Title: Alien Conspiracy

Author: Erika ([email protected])

Website

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Alien Conspiracy 2

By Erika

 

Once, long ago, Logan had not believed in aliens. Not that his world had been any less crazy, just that it had been a different form of insanity. He looked down at the ground, at the burned mangled bodies of the expectant mothers he had rescued just a day before. The blood of innocents was now on his hands.

When he had been handed this mission, Logan had been ordered by Krycek to strike and kill all human captives found in the Consortium-controlled lab. At the time, he had argued that there had to be a means of keeping the captives safe, but Krycek had stared coldly at him and had asked if he had been ready to sacrifice all of the six billion of Earth's inhabitants on a whim.

Logan had scoffed, refusing to argue the merit of sacrificing a few for the good of the many. He had been naïve, and humanity had almost paid the price.

During his raid into the alien compound, instead of killing the expectant mothers as he had been ordered to, Logan had rescued them, planning to hide the scared women in a small cabin he had built years before in the Alaskan wilderness. Usually, women impregnated by the Greys who managed to carry the alien-human hybrids to full term would have their new born die a few minutes after birth. Doctors working for the rebels would inject the hybrids with an untraceable agent, killing them instantly, though leaving the mothers unharmed.

As it had been explained to Logan, this was a precautionary note.  These hybrids usually died naturally after birth, some not even making it to this stage, except that a few months ago, a drone had been born. This drone had carried none of the fatal abnormalities associated with these kinds of offspring. The rebels had worried that if the Greys ever discovered that they had bred a successful hybrid, they would have cut short their timeline for Earth’s occupation from the current fifteen years to five. 

Unfortunately for the women kept by the Greys, the rebels had only just discovered the plant, and they had nobody working for them on the inside who could safely terminate the pregnancies. The women were coming to term, and the rebels could not afford one of the mothers turning out to be a carrier of a successful alien-human hybrid. They had no choice but to kill all the expectant mothers.

...Logan had been so certain nobody had followed them to Alaska, only to have been ambushed by Alien bounty hunters. The ensuing gunfire that had proceeded had resulted in the death of three of the five women he had rescued.

All seemed to be lost, but in the end, humanity was saved by a man who was no longer human. It was one thing to have been told Krycek carried an alien within, it was another to see him tap into the alien's power. Krycek had stood there like an avenging angel on judgement day, unafraid of the forces gathering around him the alien aircraft hovering over them or the alien bounty hunters with their weapons aimed toward him. He had seemed unconcerned about facing these impossible outcomes, and instead, he had smiled, tilted his head to one side and closed his eyes. Upon opening them, the bounty hunters had stepped back, for Alex's eyes were no longer green:  they were now completely black.

An eerie silence settled around them, and Krycek's body seemed to glow. Then an invisible force hit them, knocking them all to the ground, breaking the trees in half, even moving the spacecraft into a tilted position. That probably should have warned them of what was to come: the next wave decimated all living things in the region, burning the ground underneath them and killing the bounty hunters instantly. It was what happened next with the spacecraft that made Logan realize the Umbrams had chosen wisely in picking Krycek as their ultimate weapon. Krycek didn't destroy the ship as much as commandeered it. The ship was a living specimen, enslaved by Greys into servitude. Krycek freed it, breaking the telepathic bonds between the ship and the Greys. In a brilliant move, he befriended it so that the craft now recognized Alex, welcoming his presence, enjoying its new found freedom, a new alliance formed.

Logan walked toward Krycek. Somehow, even amidst all this chaos, Alex had had the presence of mind to put a protective barrier around the X-Man, leaving him unharmed.

"Krycek," Logan called and found himself staring at slightly unfocused green eyes. Logan had come to recognize that gaze. It was the one Alex wore when he was linked telepathically with the rebels. Logan sniffed him. During these links, Krycek's body temperature would drop, and he would stop perspiring. Instead, a small humming sound would vibrate from within him, a sound so low it was only picked up by Logan's enhanced hearing.

Almost an hour passed before Krycek paid heed to Logan. He calmly looked over at the destruction around them. When Krycek finally spoke, his voice was frigid. A cool gaze settled upon Wolverine.

“I hope, Logan, for your sake, this is the last time you disobey orders.” Nonchalant eyes again examined the damaged landscape. The alien spaceship still hovered near them.

“Krycek,” Logan tried to explain, to justify his reasons. Reasons he knew had been proven to be incorrect.

“Killing innocent victims is never easy, but at times it is necessary.” Krycek touched Logan’s arm, the only indication he made that he understood the motivation behind Logan’s actions. “Come, we have a new ally to welcome into the fold.”

They were, other than the ship, the only living survivors in the area.  The ship before them hummed.  Its outer shell glowed bright. Silver streaks reflecting from the ship marked the evening sky. Logan heard a slight popping sound, the only indication, warning, he had before he and Krycek both disappeared into the spacecraft.

Seconds later, blades unsheathed more out of shock than any sense of danger, Logan stood inside the ship, staring in awe at empty corridors made not of machine but flesh pulsating all around him.

:Thump:

:Thump:

:Thump:

Logan could hear the rapid heartbeat of the alien spacecraft. Krycek smiled at him indulgently. There was an excited air around Alex that Logan had never before witnessed in the man.

Krycek took off his right leather glove, and his hand touched, caressed, the wall before him. The ship heaved and breathed. It seemed to Logan as though the ship sobbed in relief, grateful for the contact.

Not willing to break his connection with the ship, Krycek lifted his left hand, still gloved, bringing it up to his lips. Using his teeth to hold the glove, he pulled it off, spiting it to the floor.

His left hand touched the ship, and Logan could have sworn the ship whimpered in response.

“Gámtu,” Krycek whispered with reverence. The ship buzzed, and a bright soothing light appeared. The flesh-made walls changed, opened to reveal an unobstructed view of the outside.

Krycek sighed. He was still physically connected to the ship. His body temperature had risen, as hinted by the rose-tinted blush on his cheeks. Sweat settled upon his brow. His eyes were closed, and when he finally opened them, it was to reveal an inner glow that almost blinded Logan.

Logan brought his hand up to his face to protect his eyes.

The light in Alex’s eyes slowly subsided until all that was left were dilated greenish orbs that sparkled with delight at some private jest, like holding onto an inner secret that only he was privy to.

Just as Logan assumed that he had somehow filled the quota for strange things that could occur in a given day, the ship moved with lightening speed so that the next time Logan stared out the window, it was to discover that they were no longer in Alaska but instead were just outside the Rebel base in Newfoundland.

~oo00oo~

Alex walked into the lab, hastily reading the latest reports on Consortium movement in the United States. Spaceships similar to Gámtu had been sighted by locals in the California area. Papers went flying to the floor as Krycek was attacked from behind. The attacker quickly captured his wrists and twisted them so that his hands were now behind him, enclosed in the man’s grip.

Before he could yell out a warning, a cry for help, a hand snaked up to cover his mouth, jamming his neck hard. Krycek shifted, trying to throw the man off balance, but instead he felt the man’s breath on his neck, and then the intruder sniffed him.

Fuck.

Logan.

The bastard had caught him unaware. When Alex had mentioned earlier to Logan that they should have practice-fight sessions, he had meant scheduled sessions, not a surprised ambush.

Krycek leaned against Logan’s body, his ass aligned against his attacker's crotch. Moving his hips left and then right, distracting his attacker, Alex leaned forward and then pushed hard, the back of his head hitting Logan on the face. The grip around Krycek’s wrist slackened, allowing him to shift all his weight to one leg, pulling and then sending Logan flying over him.

Logan fell on the floor. He blinked and then smiled ferally. He slowly got up onto his hands and knees before pushing himself on his feet, all the while keeping an eye on Krycek.

Logan leaped at him. Alex stepped to the right and then kicked as Logan flew past him. Logan blocked the kick in mid-air, grabbed Krycek’s ankle and pulled. Now on the floor, they rolled together until finally Logan was able to straddle Krycek who lay on the cold hard floor, arms above him, wrists secured in one of Logan’s adamantium-infused hands.

“Pinned ya.” Logan told Krycek with a smug smile.

Krycek struggled and looked for an opening. Using his legs to anchor himself, Krycek tried to flip Logan over him. Logan’s blades unsheathed, embedding themselves into the floor. His hands still held Krycek’s wrists.  Sheathing his blades back, he drew Alex to him until Krycek again found himself looking up at Logan.

“Pinned ya again,” Logan growled at Krycek, pleased. “Ya know, you look good on your back.”

Fucker.

Wanting to whip that smug expression off Logan’s face, Krycek deliberately tapped into his powers, but before he was able to throw Logan off, the metal doors opened to reveal Marita, hands on her hips, looking at them both in disgust.

“Gentlemen, we have business to attend to.”

Marita walked over to the computer console and turned on the monitor. She was being followed closely by a young man with curly brown hair who stared coldly at Krycek’s and Logan’s still-entangled bodies.

“Logan, this is Jeffrey Spender. He is in charge of our European and Asian Division.” Marita introduced both men as Logan stood up beside Alex. The men nodded to each other in greeting.

She keyed in a few words, and images appeared on the screen. Photographs of recent abductees, all boys, children ranging between the ages of three to nine. She turned to her companion, indicating for him to step forward.

Spender put the papers he had brought with him on the table. “We are still uncertain the reasons behind these recent abductions: none of the families works for the Consortium, big business or government. We have sent agents over to investigate to see what they could uncover...” Spender pointed to a map, continuing his explanation.

Some of the best active rebel cells, thought Krycek as Jeffrey's voice droned on, were in Europe, and Spender was responsible for managing those cells’ members whose ties stretched back to the Second World War

Several of the resistance had been part of various resistant movements during Nazi occupation; others had been involved in the rescue and hiding of Jews during the war. The cells were secured and run mostly by humans, all its members above suspicion, citizens of good standing in their countries.

After all, it was not like the Consortium would have any inkling that most of the people participating in their downfall were retired and collecting pensions. As long as the humans who were allied to the Greys believed these cells were run solely by the Umbrams and their alien allies, the cells would be able to flourish and grow, injecting new members from among the human populace.

Spender paused, drawing Krycek’s attention back to the meeting. Jeffrey exchanged a look with Marita just before he slipped a disk in the computer. Hovering above the table in the middle of the room, a three dimensional image appeared.

“I have just gotten back from our lab in Paris, and we believe we may have discovered an antidote to the Greys’ plan of using humans as hosts.”

Logan and Krycek looked over the plans provided to them by Spender.

“Just like mitochondrial DNA can trace all humans to one common ancestor, the hypothetical Eve from Africa, over the years, experiments performed by the Greys on humans have resulted in an unforeseen consequence: the creation of a mutated gene. This gene, passed from mother to child treats alien DNA as a virus. With this discovery, there would be no need for governments to create inoculation programs to combat the alien hybridization when one's own body would produce the antigen required. The next generation of humans would be protected and rise from the ashes of the old men who had strove to sell their future, their lives, to the aliens.” Spender paused, an intent look conveying the gravity of the situation.

“This discovery of a resistant human chromosome was first reported by doctors allied to the rebels conducting tests upon the human lab rats held by the Greys. They had sent the information on the experiments performed by the Consortium back to the rebel base. Test upon test on cloning and mutations were documented by the doctors and their assistants. Those pregnant women deemed to be carriers of that human gene were saved from further harm.”

Logan observed as Spender showed graphs of lab reports all supporting this new finding. Just like something had triggered the mutation within Logan, humans who had survived the experiments had adapted by creating a new gene. A gene they passed to their offspring. Darwinism at work.

“Unfortunately, we are still outnumbered.” Marita mentioned as she walked over to stand beside Spender. “We can save humanity from becoming slaves, but we still cannot stop the inevitable: the destruction of our race.” With great resolve, she continued. “Gentlemen, we all know these small skirmishes against Consortium agents and facilities are only buying us time. Until we are somehow able to combat the Greys on a more equal footing, we will always be short of winning this war.”

“What do you suggest, Marita?” Krycek asked, watching her, measuring her response.

“Krycek, while your alien powers and abilities might give us an edge in this war, it will not be enough. The battle will be fought on two fronts, here on Earth and out there in space, out of our sphere of influence. The Umbrams and the Greys have been fighting this war for over a thousand years, even before we came into the picture. They are too evenly matched. We have theorized,” she nodded toward Spender. “If somehow we break the Greys’ connection to the symbiotic relationship it has with the alien spacecrafts they have enslaved like Gámtu, we may be able to turn this war in our favour. We need to provide the Umbrams with a weapon they could use to fight our mutual enemy, the Greys.”

“But that would be bringing the war to the masses,” Krycek frowned. “Accelerating the colonization.”

“We are still planning, testing things out, Alex.” Marita walked around the table and reached for Krycek’s left hand. “There will come a time when we can no longer afford to fight in the shadows, when the people must be informed, prepared for war. For death. That was...is...the reason you were chosen,” she reminded him now, staring at the hand she still held, the hand that had been re-grown when Krycek had accepted to host the alien inside of him. “You are not just going to coordinate this war, Alex, you will lead us.”

“We are still researching,” Spender informed them as he turned off the monitor and took out the disk. “Can we take the aliens’ aircrafts in one scoop, break their connection to the Greys, so that they fight with us instead of against us?” His voice was young, hopeful.

Marita interrupted the discussion. “Problem is we still don’t know how Krycek did it in the first place, how you contacted Gámtu, and how we can replicate it without you being destroyed in the process.”

“And where do I come in?” Logan asked.

“You are hired help.” Marita had never made excuses for what she considered was Logan’s role in all of this. “In the past, Krycek would have handled these small jobs but we can’t afford having him be captured.”

Cold hard truth. He was a weapon. A tool. Nothing more.

With the meeting now over, Spender moved toward the door, ready to exit when Krycek stopped him. “We need to talk,” Krycek murmured, his fingers digging into Spender’s forearm.

“We have talked, Krycek. I have work to do.”  He pulled his arm out of Krycek’s grasp and walked out.

“What is going on with them?” Logan whispered to Marita, watching the scene and for the first time, sensing Spender’s anger in response to Krycek’s touch.

“Our great leader, well, sometimes he isn’t so great.” Logan raised his eyebrow and looked at her. “Although it is nothing for you to be concerned about.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he answered.

“Logan, don’t get involved. Let them be.” She warned.

Logan continued to observe as Krycek walked to the elevators, for all intend and purposes following Spender who had left just a few minutes before, in anger.

~oo00oo~

Jeffrey. Beautiful. Soft. Pliant Jeffrey.

When Krycek had rescued Spender and had recruited him for the Rebels after finding him bleeding to death in the basement of the F.B.I. building, he had assumed that he would not see him again. After all, in the past he had had very little contact with the human faction of the resistance. His work had consisted mostly of destroying labs, passing on information, killing bounty hunters and protecting wandering fibbies like Mulder. A year later, Krycek had been surprised when he had bumped into Spender who had risen up the ranks, proving himself within the organization, using the skills he had learned at the F.B.I. to their fullest.

Krycek had been in Munich waiting for his contact when fingertips had grazed across his jeans, followed by a flirtatious laugh that had been husky. Masculine. The fingers had drawn Krycek in closer, belonging to the man who he had once saved. Jeffrey had looked like he had fit in here, in the Plaza filled with tourists, family, the young and the old. A voice that had been warm and had belonged more in a bedroom than out here in the street, and Krycek had been tempted to do many things to that body being so explicitly offered, promising himself at the first opportunity to taste those soft lips.

Later, when they had met again, Krycek had not been surprised at the ease with which they had tumbled into bed. What had shocked him was his unwillingness to treat him as a quick fuck.

He had kept being drawn back to the younger man, finding excuses to travel to Europe to work with Jeffrey, to fuck him raw.

When had a simple affair, a simple fuck between men, demanded so much out of his time, become so serious, Krycek did not know. Things had come to a head six months ago when the Rebels had upped their ante against the Consortium.

At that time, Krycek could not afford distractions: he had decided to end the relationship, make a clean break of it, but, as he had observed, things had never been that simple.

Krycek had become used to being able to talk to an insider, to letting down his guard if only for a short interval.  He had not counted on missing Spender's company as he had.

Even assassins needed vacations. They were humans after all, not machines.

Krycek leaned against the wall inside the elevator.  He wasn't the kind to have time for regrets. He didn't understand those who did.

The elevator doors opened, and he walked through the corridor that housed the living quarters until he found himself standing in front of Spender’s door and looked at it pensively.

He knocked on the steel panel. “Spender.”

“Go away, Alex.” Jeffrey called from behind the closed doors.

Krycek almost turned to leave but changed his mind and keyed in the codes on the wall. The door opened immediately. Jeffrey was standing by the bed, unpacking. 

“We've done this dance too many times, Krycek. Munich was a mistake, and so was everything that came after.” Spender spoke dispassionately and then proceeded to hang his suits. Krycek was unable to look away, transfixed by the movement of the other man as he strode from one spot to the other.

And he was not the only one who was moved by this. For the first time, Krycek could feel the alien stirring within, the silent watcher who prodded him on, curious to the world Krycek inhibited.

Alex found himself walking forward, the door closing behind him.

It was simple really, to push Jeffrey against the bed, for the luggage to be swept to the floor, to silence his protest with a kiss, and when he heard Jeffrey moan and felt the body beneath arch into him, Krycek knew he had won this battle. Quickly they disrobed, tearing at each other’s clothes, swearing profanities that would make the Marines take notice when Krycek’s zipper got stuck.

Finally, both of them nude, they pulled, pushed at each other, tongues battling for dominance, supremacy, and then, as though realizing that they had time, things slowed. Krycek trailed soft kisses against Jeffrey’s shoulder, collarbone, tracing the freckles there with his tongue, feeling his lover’s hardening shaft against his abdomen and Jeffrey’s thumb along his cheekbone.

This was what he had missed, Krycek thought as he gently sucked an erogenous zone on the inside of Jeffrey’s thigh. This was what he needed, and he would not willingly give it up again.

~oo00oo~

Logan was not surprised to find himself alone eating breakfast. Last night, after Krycek and the boy had left the lab, Marita had been busy, calling on contacts, verifying facts, using her status as Special Representative to the Secretary General of the United Nations. As far as the Consortium was concerned, Marita still worked for them, little knowing that she had changed sides.

Hearing footsteps along the steel corridor, Logan was not surprised when Spender entered the eating area.  The stiffness of the other man’s gait, the lushness of his lips and the scent that still clung to his body told Logan all he needed to know. Krycek had fucked the boy.

“Spender.”

“Logan.”

Spender sat on the chair next to Logan and immediately grimaced. It must have been a really interesting night if that scratch mark just below Spender’s ear was anything to go by.

Logan went back to the document he had brought with him. They were sending him on another mission, to gather information on the recent abductions in California, collect samples of the abductees’ DNA and check if the water and soil in the region had been altered.

Logan looked toward his side when he heard the kid gasp as Spender shifted in his seat.

Yeah, Krycek had fucked Spender -- and hard. Logan picked up his papers, taking them with him as he left the room. Jaw clenching, Logan wondered why a part of him could not stand this kid.

~oo00oo~

God, damn it!

Logan hit the wall and in the process broke his collarbone. The assault when it had come had been swift. The rebels hadn’t had time to regroup during the onslaught. Fortunately for them, Marita had had the presence of mind to quickly crash the computer systems, safeguarding Rebel secrets. That had been the last time Logan had seen her, he had been too busy protecting the scientists and lab workers from falling victim to sniper fire.

Now as he herded the men out of the building, he wasn’t surprised to see Gámtu outside hovering, quickly magically transporting the technicians out of danger and into the ship. Logan went back into the building, running down the deserted corridors, gun in hand.

He stopped and sniffed the air. Marita and Spender were nearby, and they were headed right at him. They met in the next corridor, weapons ready.

“Logan,” Marita called to him. Spender had been shot. A clean wound, Logan thought.

“I think we got everyone out,” Marita explained as Logan lifted Spender and put him over his shoulder. “We set a bomb to detonate in five minutes. When it goes off, the building should implode within, and the whole structure should fall into the mine below.”

The lights flickered on and off.

“Wait,” Logan growled in warning. He sniffed the air, nothing. He concentrated, hearing one human heartbeat, his, then Marita’s, Jeffrey’s and ...Logan put Spender down as he fired to his right. In the ensuing close battle, Marita, who was protecting the injured Spender, fired and hit three human attackers who worked for the Consortium. Meanwhile, Logan quickly decapitated two bounty hunters.

Picking Spender up again, Logan ran down the hallway closely followed by Marita. Logan wondered what the hell had happened to Krycek. His question was soon answered as they made their way out and ran into an ongoing battle reminiscent of the tale, “War of the Worlds”. Alien spacecrafts were fighting Gámtu and firing on the rebel base. They were surrounded between the Greys who were trying to commandeer the ship that carried the rebel scientists and the two humans infected with Oiliens fighting with Krycek. Things really looked bleak for the three human watching this.

“Get on that ship, and get the hell out of here, now!” Logan yelled at Marita over the sounds of the battle taking place before them, handing Spender to her.

“Where are you going?” she yelled back as she supported Spender’s body.

“To help Krycek.”

~oo00oo~

Blasting heat burning his skin, blisters forming along his face, arms striking out, trying to lunge, he thrust his blade into the alien stabbing him, but the dumb bastard healed, reattaching arms, legs and torso.

As Logan rolled and turned, he impaled the alien in the chest, moved his blade back and forth, cut the heart and threw it away. He then slashed the body at various points, deep wounds, too many for the alien to heal them all. Soon the Oilien, a black liquid form, oozed out of those razor cuts.

Logan fell to his knees, exhausted, weakened. His own body was still recovering when the Oilien made an attempt to enter him. It stopped in mid-flight hit by a beam coming from behind him. Just as Logan wondered what was going on, the earth shook, and Logan fell to the ground. The bomb inside the rebel compound had gone off. Huge waves of dust settled around them, for a moment blackening the sky. Logan coughed, fighting for breath, rapidly blinking his eyes, feeling tears forming.  The base now lay in ruins. Destroyed.

Someone shouted his name: dazed, Logan looked up. It was Marita carrying a small metal box in one hand, and a specialized gun in the other. She smiled at him reassuringly. Logan ignored her, looking instead for the enemy he had been fighting just moments before. The Oilien, what was left of it, had solidified. Broken silver pieces lay everywhere.

“Come on, we have to help Krycek.” Marita helped him get to his feet. “Logan, we have to get him out of here.” She pointed toward Krycek, who was tired and was no longer able to keep the spacecrafts at bay, keeping them from following Gámtu.

“If this works,” she explained to him as she keyed some numbers into the box. “It will hopefully take down some of those ships.”

“What about Krycek?” Logan asked. 

“I want you to distract the Oilien, grab hold of Krycek, and then get the hell out of here.  I'll take care of the rest.”

“Marita,” Logan grabbed her arm.

“Forget about me, Krycek is all that matters. Now get to it, soldier.”

Logan reached out and kissed her. Harshly. Quickly. A part of him wondered if he would ever see her again. If she would survive.

Marita responded quickly to his kiss, then she pushed him away from her, gray eyes hardening, silver blond hair tied up in a pony tail swaying against the wind, body stance changing from that of a diplomat to one of a soldier. Warrior. Amazon.

“Save him,” she ordered.

Logan ran toward Krycek. He needed to get them out of here fast, before whatever was in that box destroyed them all.

Logan dived over Krycek. Logan’s hand stretched out, his blades cutting the alien form in front of him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Marita aim her gun at the Oilien, solidifying it. Logan moved quickly to catch Krycek as he tumbled to the ground, spent. Picking him up, Logan tossed him onto his shoulders and took off as fast as his legs could carry.

Minutes later, the blast of the bomb hit them hard, and Logan fell, hitting his head, and dropped Krycek.

And then Logan lost consciousness.

 

TBC in Part 3

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