Homecoming: The Return of an Heir
By: Morgan Lewis

Part 7

Remy had always viewed confrontations and an individual's ability to deal with them a shaky certainty at best. Using himself as an example, at twelve years old he was easily able to face off against and talk down just about any police officer he met, whether by charming them into submission or frustrating them into giving up. However, he still cringed at the memory of having to explain to his adoptive father why several FBI agents would be arriving to ask some questions about a certain destroyed military aircraft. He had learned at that time that it wasn't always possible to talk your way out of a given situation., which was why he preferred to avoid confrontations in general when possible.

He had also learned the painful truth that some situations could simply not be avoided, and it was best to face them with the your most charming smile, a casual confidence, and at least two knifes hidden in your sleeves for additional security. Unfortunately, for the coming confrontation he seemed incapable of summoning his trademark grin, was unable to bolster his confidence, and had been relieved of the knives before arriving on Chandilar by a stern security guard that he swore had not smiled in at least twenty years.

Remy walked over to a nearby sofa and dropped heavily onto it flinging his leg over the armrest and leaning into a reclined position. He had actually managed to get a little over four hours of sleep since his conversation with Xavier earlier despite his tension concerning the up-coming events of the day. Sleeping in the same room that he would occupy in a little more than four and a half years had definitely produced some of the more interesting dreams that he could remember. At the same time, the experience had brought other long forgotten memories to the surface. He had found that Uncle Glady hadn't been the only nickname that he had developed for Gladiator.

Gladiator had been uncharacteristically silent on the matter of his impromptu disappearance the night before, a fact that very nearly disappointed the former thief. He often remembered that, as a child, few had been capable of driving the Praetor to frustration the way that he could. Of course, the most notable exception to that rule had in fact been the other Gambit who had also existed in that timeline and gone on to become the Witness. In fact, now that he thought about it, Remy could vaguely remember that during his final fateful visit to earth, Gambit and Gladiator had very nearly come to blows over what Gladiator had perceived as a slight to his honor on Gambit's part.

Remy's thoughts suddenly came to an abrupt halt. If Gladiator had accompanied them on that voyage to earth, then why had he not been present at the scene of the X-men's betrayal? Neither Jean nor the professor had mentioned anything about the Praetor in the memories that they had managed to extrapolate from his mind. Yet, he now seemed to recall the man's presence the morning of their arrival at the mansion. The former thief tried desperately to recall what may have happened between the morning of their arrival and the day of the X-men's deaths. Unfortunately, everything else was simply too obscured by the trauma of the attack for his mind to be able to sort out.

He also didn't have any more time to dwell on his current line of thought unfortunately as the entrance to his room hissed open and admitted Talyn Farsahn.

She seemed to be dressed casually for a change, wearing a loose flowing gown with a matching crest shaped tiara that seemed to be a popular fashion among the Shi'ar. The subtle hues of her dress managed to nicely complement her features and, for a moment, Remy found himself envying Rallin if the old fool ever managed to pull his head out of his rear-end.

"Lilandra is ready to see you now." she told him with a friendly smile that for a moment seemed to spark a faint memory in the back of his mind. Then, just as quickly as it had come, the sensation of familiarity faded back into the recesses of his brain. It was a phenomenon to which he was slowly becoming more accustomed.

Remy nodded in response and rose silently from the sofa. He took a moment to don the coat that he had draped over the arm of the couch before falling in behind the councilor's steps. The short trip to Lilandra's quarters was a strange paradox as it seemed to stretch for an eternity yet was also over in nearly an instant. All too soon the former thief found himself standing in front of the door to his mother's room.

That door slid opened to reveal Lilandra busily going over a group of final reports with one of the members of her advisory, a man named Mentari if he remembered correctly. Upon noting their entry, the Shi'ar Empress quickly exchanged a few final words with her advisor before dismissing him. Talyn took the opportunity to leave as Mentari gathered up a few papers and datapads from the Magistrix's desk and made his departure, nodding curtly in acknowledgment to Gambit as he passed by.

"Your advisor didn't appear to be very happy," Remy noted wryly, switching into Shi'ar.

"Director Mentari is rarely happy or even vaguely pleased," Lilandra replied with a tired smile. "I think it is a common trait that most intelligence officers extol."

Gambit stuffed his hands in his pockets as he slowly wandered over to the windows and their ever impressive view of the city below. "It must be an intergalactic thing then. I didn't see very many smiles among the Interpol goons back on Earth either." Of course, most of his memories of Interpol concerned him tweaking their collective noses.

He could feel her slowly approaching him from behind and glancing over his shoulder at the panoramic vista. A sudden memory tugged at a corner of his mind, and the former thief spoke almost without thinking.

"We used to do this almost everyday before the betrayal. Spend just a few moments together looking over the city and talking."

He felt his mother stiffen in shock and perhaps sorrow at his simple statement and almost wished that he could have it back. Instead, he pushed onward, the words coming almost of their own accord.

"You would ask me about my day, listen to my explanations for why I had attempted to hide from Gladiator and the other palace guards again, or answer my questions about why I was treated differently from the other children that I knew."

The memories seemed to be taking a life of their own as he spoke, flashing through his mind and allowing him in seconds to relive a piece of the childhood that he had never known. He remembered shared sunsets, the first time that his mother ever spoke to him of the Great Progenitors, The Creator and the Nurturer, that his people worshiped, and endless lessons of his own responsibilities to the very people that they would watch from those windows.

A thick silence settled heavily across the room after Remy's impromptu speech. He glanced at his mother's reflection in the glass before so that his eyes could confirm what his senses had already told him. She was managing to maintain a somewhat blank expression, but he could see in her eyes that she was probably more then a little overwhelmed emotionally. Gambit felt his gut clench slightly in guilt. He should have known better than to throw so much at her at once. Even Xavier, who had spent the past six months with him growing accustomed to the idea of having a son from the future would be rendered momentarily speechless whenever Gambit suddenly revealed events of his childhood.

The mother and son stood in a slightly uncomfortable silence for a few more moments before Remy saw Lilandra take a deep breath and visually gather herself.

"Well, Rem'aillon, why don't you tell me a little bit about your day."

Her features suddenly changed to a stern expression that could have been genuine if not for the mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"And don't think that just because your father apparently finds your vagabond ways acceptable that you don't have to explain to me why you felt that it was necessary to put Gladiator and half of the palace into a panic with your disappearance last night."

Remy couldn't help but grin foolishly in response to his mother's mock reprimand. He also couldn't resist the impulse to respond with a quip of his own. Turning to face his mother, he put on the most boyishly innocent face that he could manage.

"I was simply testing the efficiency of the Capitol City transportation system. Which I might add is somewhat lacking. If it had been up to par, I would have been able to sneak all the way into the city and then back to the palace before Gladiator would have even known that I was gone."

Lilandra's attempts at a stern expression quickly dissolved into vain attempts to stifle laughter.

"For some reason, I like to think that you initially developed and perfected that expression on me." She shook her head ruefully. "I can tell now that we are not going to have any shortage of nobles willing betroth their daughters to the young prince."

Remy very nearly winced. The issue of the time paradox hadn't been the only matter on which he had refrained from informing his mother. "Actually, amman, we should probably discuss that particular topic." After all, Tamara would probably prove less than amiable to his mother if her first official meeting was rendered awkward by Lilandra's misguided attempts to arrange a marriage for him.

For a moment, Gambit thought that the hesitant expression he saw on his mother's face may have been a sign of her concern over the import of his statement. When she finally managed to respond, he found that in a way his assumption had been correct just not in the way that he had thought.

"Do you know that for the longest time I wondered if anyone would ever call me by that title." Remy could see her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I've grown use to being referred to as Magistrix, Empress, and even Lilandra among some of my closer friends." She shook her head slowly, smiling in pure joy as a few tears slowly traced their way down her cheeks. "But until six months ago I would have thought it impossible to ever be known as anyone or anything else."

Remy had to avert his eyes as his intestines suddenly began tying themselves into knots. He suddenly wondered how he could bear to tell her that her newly acquired family was built on a foundation of sand. How could he tell her that she had finally found a son only to lose him again due to a cruel twist of time and fate.

Perhaps it was that same fate that decided to intervene again and rob him the decision as a computerized voice suddenly announced that Gladiator requested an audience with the Empress. The unexpected interruption quickly dissipated the intensity of the moment, allowing both Remy and his mother to regain their respective composure.

"Please send him in." Lilandra managed after wiping the few errant tears from her face.

The entrance hissed open, admitting Gladiator along with a small detachment of guards. Remy could tell almost immediately that something was wrong. The Praetor's expression still seemed as if it had been carved from stone, yet there was a certain tenseness to his face that bespoke dire tidings.

Gladiator came to a halt in front of the Empress and offered a quick per functionary bow. "I apologize for the interruption, Your Highness."

Lilandra summoned a wry smile in response. "Your present interruption is not quite as inconvenient some of your past ones. But that is besides the point."

"Yes, Your Highness." If Remy hadn't known better, he would have sworn that the Praetor was stalling, or perhaps hesitating would have been a more appropriate word as he could never imagine anything causing the great Gladiator to stall.

"Your Majesty," He began with a distinctly uncomfortable expression, "I just received this from Magistrate Talm himself." The Praetor withdrew a small datafile from his belt and hand it to the Empress. "The order was given by unanimous vote of the Imperial Magistrate."

Remy could see the blood slowly drain from his mother's face as she read over the contents of the file. Gladiator, meanwhile, had bowed his head and, had he been anyone else, Gambit would have thought that he was fighting the urge to fidget.

"What is it?" he finally asked with growing concern.

Lilandra simply shook her head and closed her eyes. When she finally opened her eyes again to meet Remy's own questioning stare, he could see shock, anger, and fear in their depths. "It appears that the you have been placed under house arrest."

**********

Zair had been on the verge of leaving the M'krann Shard when she saw Judan finally make his belated entry into the bar. She had grown somewhat accustomed to his tardiness over the past few months, but today she had sat in their meeting place for more than half an hour waiting for the man to grace her with his presence. He had better have a good reason for making her wait so long.

She noticed that as he entered he had a rather harried look to him, as if he had been running himself weary for the last few hours and was just now finally getting a chance to catch his breath. Of course, the entire appearance could have simply been an act as the M'krann Shard was a popular stop for those who had experienced a hectic day.

The former intelligence officer casually drained the contents of her glass and signaled to one of the waiters to bring her another. She had been trying to be careful and simply order enough to avoid attracting any unwanted notice. Barkeepers had the tendency of remembering stingy patrons more than those who ordered at least a moderate amount of alcohol.

She looked up again to see Judan standing directly over her table a drink already in hand and half-consumed by the looks of it. "Would you care to share a drink together?"

In keeping with the pretense, Zair looked him over carefully as if considering his offer before nodding in approval. "You very nearly missed me today. I don't appreciate being made to wait." She stated casually once he had seated himself.

Judan simply drained the contents of his own glass and signaled for the waiter to come and replace it with a fresh one. Zair still hadn't touched the drink that had just been brought to her. "Some things came up at the last minute," he responded with a shrug. "It couldn't be helped."

Zair leaned back in her seat and examined the man with a critical eye. She could see now that his harried appearance was definitely no act. His clothes were uncharacteristically unkempt, his feathered crest was in a disarray, and his eyes possessed a slightly wild look to them. He also seemed a great deal more nervous than normal, and he was consuming larger quantities of t'al than she had ever before seen him drink. It was becoming more and more obvious to her that something was definitely happening in the Ja'harr household, something big.

Judan waited until the waiter had placed a fresh glass in front of him before attempting further conversation. "Do you have the holos with you?"

"Do you have the transmission records?" she countered in a casual voice while stirring her own drink. She noticed the man shift nervously in his chair and once again wondered what could have possibly unnerved the man so greatly. He actions were approaching the point were he would begin attracting attention to himself and that was something that neither one of them could afford.

Judan apparently realized this fact and with the help of a few liberal splashes of t'al finally managed to recompose himself and even began to revert to the usual cocky and arrogant attitude he commonly used in their meetings.

"Oh, I have the records with me. You don't have to worry about that." His face assumed a casual smug look. "But, I want those holos first, not after."

Zair felt her eyes narrowing in distaste. Judan was apparently quickly recovering from whatever it was that had unnerved him so and was returning his argumentative nature. His bothersome tendency of always making a debate out of every one of her requests had tempted her to simply turn the chief of staff over to Telra's wrath more than once. Most of the time, she would have simply overridden his protests using threats, bribes, or some other manner of motivation to make him comply.

Today though threats wouldn't really be all that useful an incentive as the very thing with which she used to threaten him was the payment for his services. Thus she decided to simply relent and withdrew a small envelope from her coat pocket and slid it across the table. "Go ahead and look through them if you would like," she said with a wry grin.

Judan's expression tightened slightly before he responded tersely, "I believe that I will take you at your word on the matter for now and examine them more closely in a more private setting, if you don't mind."

Jenna Ja'harr's face was well known throughout Chandilar and allowing those holos to see light in any kind of public area would have been equivalent with simply showing them to the Ja'harr matriarch.

"Good, now the information that I requested, if you please." She settled casually back into her booth, projecting an image of nonchalance despite the fact that she was practically ready to jump up and beat the records out of her contact.

Judan carefully removed a small datapad from his coat and extended it to her. "It contains the dates, times and lengths of all transmissions using the Neramani encryption's for the past eight months." He shrugged his shoulders and continued as she took the pad from his hand. "I'm not entirely sure what good you hope to accomplish with it but it's all yours. You had better hope that it was worth the price that you paid for it," he added with another one of his snide smiles.

Zair placed the information in the same pocket that had been vacated of Judan's holos just a few moments ago and as easily as that, the deal was complete.

Zair found herself feeling a little bit disappointed. After all, Judan had been a reliable source of information for a little more than two years now and would be difficult, if not impossible to replace. She took another look at the man who was now busily draining his third glass of t'al and felt her brow crease thoughtfully. It seemed to be a shame to allow such a contact simply go without any attempts to entice him with other incentives.

"I don't suppose that you have had much time to keep up with current events in the Imperium outside of the recent political rumblings?" she began innocently.

Judan responded with a disinterested shrug. "I try to catch most of the highlights. You never know how it could affect House Ja'harr's standings."

Zair pretended to suddenly become very interested in a singer that was performing on the stage across the bar from them. "Then I don't suppose that you heard about the recent veins of Oran that were located in the Tylleriom chain."

Judan chuckled richly in reply but she could see that she was slowly regaining the man's attention. "Yes, I heard. A couple dozen lucky investors bought the chain hoping to establish a communication's outpost and turn a small profit. Instead they end up finding Oran and will each draw a sizable fortune off of their investments." He shook his head in amusement and returned to his drink.

Being mindful to never take her eyes from the performer, the former intelligence officer carefully added, "I know, quite ironic isn't it. And I did have my heart so set on having a communication's outpost in the Tylleriom system. But, now I seriously doubt that the others will be interested in continuing the project." She shrugged nonchalantly. "I suppose that I will just have to re-invest in another chain once I free up some more resources."

The man seemed to have completely forgotten his drink now as he stared at her in undisguised amazement. "You... are you saying... but, they haven't yet released a list of all the investors." Judan slid backwards in his booth, his jaw gaping open.

"The names will be released later today." Zair casually took another sip of her drink. "Inter-planet will be named as one of the primary share-holders."

Judan and she both knew that Inter-planet had been founded by her late husband and was now owned exclusively by her.

Judan was studying her intently now, not unlike the way some exotic animal may study a piece of savory meat lying in the middle of a snare. On one hand, the snare looked quite dangerous easily capable of maiming or even killing anyone who may tempt it. Yet the meat just lying there was so tempting, so inviting.

"How much do you own?" Apparently, Judan wanted to sniff at the bait just a little bit, find out juicy it really was.

Zair sighed deeply and assumed a look of concentration as if she was trying to remember the exact figure. "I believe Inter-planet owns approximately thirty percent of the shares."

She smiled as the man very nearly choked on his drink. He had just discovered that there was an entire set of ribs where he had only expected perhaps a few strips. The snare was beginning to look less and less dangerous.

Judan set his drink back on the table and quickly grabbed a cloth to wipe his lips and muffle his coughs. After a few moments, he finally managed to compose himself.

"I...congratulate you on your good fortune." He tossed the cloth back onto the table and raised his glass in a small salute to her with a tight forced smile. "It couldn't have happened to a more deserving person."

"Unfortunately, trade laws don't exactly completely agree with you." She huffed as if in slight frustration. "Because of recent import and export integrated percentage fees I would actually stand to make a larger profit from my investment by clearing off a large portion of my stock and declaring it a donation."

She could see the calculated look in Judan's eyes. He was eyeing the juices as they slowly dribbled off the bait. The snare hardly even seamed to be on any consequence now, just a piece of insignificant metal lying underneath his free dinner.

"How much?"

Zair noticed a slight tremble in hand as he asked the question, which she found somewhat odd. She had thought that he would be practically salivating by now. A small alarm slowly began to ring in the back of her head.

"I need to bleed off fifteen percent of my stock." She made the offer a little more generous than she normally would have. But, her instincts told her that the present situation was definitely one that justified over-bidding.

Judan, however, seemed fairly unimpressed. He stared into his drink for a few more minutes, swirling the mixture around slowly before taking another sip. Zair noted that the slight tremble had begun to travel up his arm.

"Thirty percent," he finally responded.

Zair was almost certain that she hadn't heard the man correctly. "Excuse me?"

He drained the rest of his drink then set the empty glass back down and clasped his hands together to stop some of the shaking. "I said I want thirty percent of your stock. If I am caught giving you the information on recent events in House Ja'harr, I'll probably wish that Telra had just come into possession of those holos." He shook his head slowly. "I'm not going to take that kind of a risk without a proportionate incentive."

She simply stared at the chief of staff with open skepticism. "I was being indulgent at fifteen percent. What could you possibly have that would be worth thirty?"

Judan stubbornly stared at the table for a few more minutes, absently fiddling with his now empty glass. Zair, meanwhile, was carefully turning the events over in her mind. Judan, at heart, was a simple opportunist and a conservative one at that. Nothing that he had ever leaked to her in the past would have merited anything harsher than dishonorable dismissal from his post were he to have been apprehended in the act. Yet, today, he had arrived at their appointment more rattled than she had ever before seen the man. If he truly had come to their meeting today intending to sell her some substantial information, that fact could very well explain his shaken appearance.

The former intelligence officer decided to take a gamble. "Very well, you'll have your thirty percent." She watched as Judan nervously lifted his eyes to meet her own. "I'll arrange transfer of the stock to the Chandilar District Charity Fund later this day."

The Chandilar District Fund was, of course, an elaborate front for one of the more notorious tax shelters in the Imperium. And as Judan was also on the board of supervisors, he could easily manage the direction of revenues once they arrived.

The chief of staff studied the reflections in his glass for a few more seconds before beginning in a low voice. "You may or may not have heard, but earlier today, Chief Magistrate Talm ordered an emergency convening of the high Magistrates. Varris Ja'harr, being one of the newer High Magistrates, was naturally involved in this meeting." He stared woefully at his glass once again, apparently regretting the fact that he had already drained it.

Zair nodded for his to continue twice before he finally managed to shake himself out of his own reverie. "The entire proceedings of the meeting were officially sealed to the M'krann archive."

The former intelligence officer slowly slid back in her seat, amazement and dawning comprehension warring across her mind even as she struggled to keep her expression neutral. The tampering of information that had been sealed to the M'krann archive was considered treason of the greatest caliber within the Imperium. After all, that archive also contained the dark records of the Fal'korr society during its time under J'thenn.

Judan was studying her carefully now, obviously trying to gauge her reactions to his revelation. At the moment, she was seriously considering whether or not she really wanted to accept this new information. Were their actions ever discovered, both could easily be sentenced to death. Zair just hoped that her inner conflict wasn't too apparent to the man. Those hopes were dashed a second later when Judan almost casually mentioned, "If it helps you to decide, the information does concern a certain heir in whom you have demonstrated interest."

Despite her best efforts, Zair felt a sour expression creeping across her face. Judan had always been quite the salesman, extremely adept in marketing his merchandise. It didn't take much longer for the former intelligence officer to reach her decision. "You'll get the shares, just give me the information."

Judan reached into his coat and withdrew another datafile and laid it down next to her own untouched glass.

"That file contains a record of the minutes of the meeting in question. I am sure that you will find it to be very enlightening."

With that, the man rose quickly from the table and readjusted his coat signaling that their business was done. Zair watched him go quietly before turning her own gaze back to datafile he had left behind. She tentatively reached out to the small file then, at the last moment, picked up her drink instead. After draining the glass she finally turned her attention back to the small object in front of her. A small part of her was still tempted to simply toss it into the nearest incinerator and be done with the entire matter; however, her more pragmatic nature would not tolerate simply destroying an item for which she had paid so much money.

Sighing softy, she gathered up the small disk and rose from her seat. Night was coming soon and she still had a great deal of tasks that she needed to accomplish.

**********

Charles had felt the tension, coiled tightly like a viper, the moment he had joined Lilandra, Remy, and Gladiator in his son's quarters. Initially, he had completely mistaken the source of that tension thinking that Remy had revealed the nature of the paradox that would take his life in less than a decade. However, a simple look from his son had told him that this present gathering was about something else entirely.

The eventual explanation had revealed the cause of everyone's distress and had left Charles cursing himself for a fool. Some part of his mind had always known that such a conflict was inevitable. He just had not anticipated it to have come about so quickly.

Lilandra was still pacing back and forth her face frozen in a stiff mask that barely concealed the rage lingering beneath the surface. Through their rapport, he could feel her suppressed anger and knew that she was barely holding on to her thin veneer of civility. Charles was immensely grateful that Magistrate Talm was not in the room at that moment, or he feared that she might seriously be tempted to do violence upon the man.

Gladiator, who had no qualms with displaying his own emotions on the subject, stood silently behind the chair where Gambit was seated. He had been assigned the official position of supervising officer during the course of Remy's house arrest; however, the Praetor appeared more prepared to restrain anyone else from attempting to approach his charge rather than actually restraining Remy. Charles found that he was secretly pleased with the Praetor's indignant rage. Perhaps he had misjudged the man's earlier reactions.

Remy, by far, seemed to be the most calm and collected of the group. He was casually reclined in the plush chair with one leg hooked over the armrest. A deck of cards danced almost effortlessly between his two hands while he waited. However, Charles had now known the young man long enough to spot the almost imperceptible chinks in Gambit's cool exterior. The slight twitch in his right hand as he restrained the urge to reach for a cigarette, the way that he carefully avoided making eye contact with either Lilandra or Gladiator, all these things told the Professor that his son was indeed riding a ragged edge of emotion.

The Shi'ar Magistrix eventually brought her steps to a halt in front of the balcony window overlooking the entire city. For a few moments, she simply stood there sighing deeply and allowing the tension to grow. After exhaling another deep breath, she finally broke the tense silence.

"It seems that I have underestimated Jalrus's hatred. But, I confess that, of all the High Magistrates, he is the last that I would have believed capable of such a duplicitous action."

"The man has no honor," Gladiator declared unequivocally. "His shameful acts ceased to surprise me many years ago. Talm would stoop to any level in order to discredit the throne and gain power for himself, your Majesty."

The irony of the entire situation was not lost on the professor. The last time that Remy had been on Chandilar, Gladiator had watched Gambit like a hawk, convinced that the former thief was a thoroughly disreputable individual. Now, little more than two years later, the Praetor seemed unwilling to believe that the young heir was capable of questionable acts.

"Yes, Jalrus has never hidden his enmity for me or the principle that I have embraced." The bitterness in her words was more subdued, yet still could still be detected. "However, despite his unreasoning disdain of my reign, he has never before allowed his own personal feelings to drive him betray his own lofty ethics."

"Hatred can have a pervasive effect on even the moral of men," the warrior reasoned.

"No," Lilandra said shaking her head slowly. Charles could have guessed the direction of her thought even had he not possessed his psionic powers. "If he had meant to merely discredit me and ruin my standing with the people, then he would not have ordered the current proceedings sealed to the M'krann Archive."

The professor cut his eyes briefly to where his son was seated and tried to gauge the young man's reaction. Gambit knew as well as he where this present line of conversation was going. Charles could see the edge of fear that was slowly entering into the former thief's eyes, fear of a possible rejection from the woman he had discovered was his mother once she had learned more of the one she now called son.

"Jalrus only acts on his convictions. He is far too sanctimonious to do otherwise." Lilandra had turned and was now slowly walking over to where Remy and Gladiator waited. "The question then is: Are any of those convictions justified?"

"We know that his convictions are completely unjustified..."

"Gladiator," Lilandra moved quickly to cut the Praetor off, "I was not directing the question to you."

Remy slowly raised his eyes to meet his mother's own intense gaze for the first time since Charles had first arrived in the room. Red and black eyes met dark ones, neither set willing to betray any emotion to the other. Lilandra deliberately dropped datafile containing the arrest warrant in Gambit's lap.

"You have read the charges contained on this file. Are any of them true?"

The former thief never even flinched, his gaze never even faltered. In fact, his body betrayed no reaction what-so-ever to Lilandra's painfully direct question. The only response was a single, ragged syllable. "Oui."

Charles sadly closed his eyes as a heavy silence descended once again upon the room. Lilandra simply sank onto a nearby couch, cradling her head between her hands. Gladiator had managed to stoically reign in his initial surprise at Remy's confession and now simply stood in attention behind the young prince. The young man continued to stare searchingly at his mother, his eyes now beginning to betray some of his own inner desperation.

"Why?" The plaintiff note in Lilandra's simple inquiry was unmistakable.

She had not even raised her head from her hands to voice the question.

Another uncomfortable stretch of silence ensued before Remy's reply. "De why don't be important anymore." The fact that he choose to respond in his Cajun English was not lost on Charles, nor he suspected was it lost on Lilandra. "De fact is dat what's happened has happened an' no amount o' justification on my part's goin' t' change any o' dat."

Xavier found that he had to restrain the urge to add his own voice in defense of Remy's past actions, to explain that having been raised on the streets and then adopted into the Thieves Guild of New Orleans, his choices in life had been drastically limited. Yet, he held his peace, knowing that Lilandra would have to make her own decisions based on her own intuitions.

Remy slowly rose to his feet and walked over to stand in front of Lilandra. His voice was thick and unwieldy as he spoke. "I studied up on Shi'ar protocol a lil' before we got here. You can make a deal wit' Talm and simply have me banished." The young man's voice was carefully controlled, betraying none of the pain behind the statement. "Dat way, none of dis knowledge will ever have t' go public, and de whole t'ing can just blow over."

The Professor felt his entire body tensing as he awaited his love's reply. It seemed that fate was once again placing him in the position of advocate for one of his students against the Shi'ar justice system. He only prayed that this time they would not become divided on the matter as they had been over the Phoenix incident. The rift formed from that particular chain of events had taken many years to heal.

Lilandra lifted her head to meet the eyes of her son once again, only this time, there were no barriers in place to cover the raw emotions exchanged in that simple gaze. Finally, the Imperial Magistrix shook her head. "No, I will not allow you to be abandoned by your family again."

She paused, pain and conflicting emotions clearly displayed across her gentle features, "I will never abandon you, my son, but I am duty bound to see that justice is served for the Imperium."

Xavier knew that the moment of truth was approaching. He allowed all of his senses to become carefully focused on his one true love, trying to sense in which direction her tumultuous thoughts were headed. There was one last statement that needed to be made before this little drama was allowed to completely unfold.

"Lilandra," he said quietly, breaking the silence for the first time, "I can assure you that in Remy's case, justice has indeed already been served, perhaps offering him a harsher sentence than you could ever devise."

She turned her gaze to meet his own and he searched the depths of her eye, begging her to trust him. A few moments later she turned back to her son, the indecision in her features slowly fading to resolve. "I said that I will not abandon you. We will fight Jalrus on this, together."

Charles let out a breath that he had not known he had been holding. With her one simple statement, the tension slowly began to dissipate from each participant in the confrontation. He watched as Lilandra slowly rose back to her feet, her control over her features returning as the mantle of Imperial Magistrix settled across her shoulders.

A faint smile flicked across her features. "Just please tell me that you aren't harboring any other dark secrets."

Charles painfully closed his eyes as her playful comment inadvertently touched on perhaps the one subject that would be potentially more painful than the present argument. When he opened his eyes once again to meet the gaze of his son, he saw, clearly written in the young man's features, the request not to divulge that particular information at this time.

"Yeah, dere be some other t'ings dat need t' be said," he responded slowly and evenly. "But they don't have to do with this nor affect anyone but us. Now is not de time t' be worrying about dem." A faint smile creased his lips.

"One crisis at a time, amman."

Concern slid across the Magistrix's face briefly before she nodded in agreement. "One crisis at a time then." She had slid into her ruler mindset completely now, focusing on the problem at hand. "Now, the question remains. How do we deal with the ramifications of this official inquiry?"

"There is one option available to us," Charles volunteered. The idea had actually occurred to him several months ago. He was, above all else, a pragmatist and had known that it would be necessary to deal with the possible ramifications of his son's less than savory past.

The others in the room listened carefully as he detailed the plans that he had prepared. As he unfolded he concept before them, he noticed Remy's devious smile of approval at the entire scheme as well as Lilandra's equally approving expression. Even Gladiator offered a respectful and impressed nod.

End Part 7