Jan 11, 2001
Hey minna! *waves*
Gomen for the long stretch here - but here is the latest installment of Into The Heart of Darkness!
First though, lemme es'plain a coupla things. For one, there is no - repeat NO - mention of GW in this little interlude. This deals strictly with the business Remy was tending to in New Orleans waaaaaaaaaaaaay back in chapter one. However, it was important to do this for a couple of things:
A) It will better explain Remy's background
B) It will introduce you to several characters that will be popping
up as the fic progresses, and explains their roles in my GWX universe.
C) It sets up the next story in HOD - AFTER Duo wakes up.
Duo: When's THAT chapter coming out?
*Ahem* Soon. *cough* Very soon.
Again, no GW in this part - but I bet when you finish reading it, you'll have an idea of where I'm going with it, neh? *grins*
Heero: *dryly* Yeah right.
*sweatdrops* Ano...anyway - for better or for worse here it is!
New Orleans bustled with an intensity that rivaled any other city in the world. Thousands of people roamed the streets, checking the venders wares, laughing as street performers entertained them as they ran their daily errands. Voices called out, laughter rang through the streets, the very air itself was alive with exuberance.
Jean-Luc Lebeau smiled at the city laid out below him with a hint of pride that seemed almost paternal. In a way, it was only fitting he should feel that way - after all, a great deal of the city was run by him, and under his protection in joint ownership, to use the term loosely, with the Assassins Guild.
Jean-Luc turned away from the window of his penthouse suite, and snapped his fingers. Instantly, a younger member of his own Thieves Guild was there with his briefcase. Sparing him a quick nod of thanks, Jean-Luc strode briskly to his own private elevator. Punching the button for the sub-basement, he leaned back against the cool metal wall and let his thoughts wander. As they often did when unattended, his thoughts drifted to his adopted son.
Remy was his pride and joy, a source of delight since the day the grubby street urchin had picked his pocket in the marketplace all those years ago. Jean-Luc smiled in reminiscence - what a fine young man he'd turned out to be! Handsome, strong, agile - and a Master Thief. It was his finest hour as a parent when he, along with the other two Master Thieves had presented Remy with a silver-hilted dagger, and inscribed their Guild insignia high on the nape of his neck, easily concealed by his hair. His son was one of the four most dangerous humans in the world, mutant powers aside. Even his own biological child Pierre didn't have nearly the ability of his adopted brother.
The man chuckled - not only was Remy a Master Thief, he also retained the brief training he'd had under an Assassin tutor in the few days directly following the end of their blood feud with the other Guild.
Still, for all his child's skill, Jean-Luc still worried about him. Remy was also a member of the X-Men, a notorious band of mutants that fought some of the most deadliest creatures on the planet. Jean-Luc had no quarrel with mutants, especially since his own son was one, but some of the acts he'd witnessed by mutants claiming to do it all for the good of their own kind, made him sick. He recalled watching one battle the X-Men had against Magneto, when for a brief period of time, the silver-haired mutant had held New York City hostage, trying to turn it into a homeland for mutants. It was frightening knowing his son dealt with such matters all the time. It was a parents prerogative to worry about their children.
It was also a parent's prerogative to worry about the future, he mused thoughtfully. A soft *ding* went off as the elevator reached the sub- basement. The automatic door slid back with a faint hiss of air, and he nodded to the two sentries whose eyes never left the entryway. You could never be too careful of who was coming down, even when you knew the sentry you'd left back in your suite had already phoned down to inform them of their leader's movements.
Jean-Luc strode down the narrow but well-lit hallway, eyes focused on the guarded archway ahead. This was his own private entrance to the underground labyrinth that made up the lair of the Thieves Guild. The door slid open, hidden cameras already showing who it was to the inner chamber, and Jean-Luc stepped forward to see his council rising to their feet at his appearance.
Waving them back into their chairs, Jean-Luc seated himself at the head of the table, meeting each one of his council members with a brief nod of greeting. His son, one of the Senior Guild Leaders, and heir to the Guild itself, sat at his right hand; his Chief Advisor, Claude Lafier, to his left. The remainder of the seats were filled in no particular order as they were all leaders of different factions within the Guild, and awarded each other mutual respect and an inbred sense of comradery that was legendary, and chief of all reasons why the Guild remained such a strong, though hidden, political faction within New Orleans.
" Greetings Master Thief," Claude started out formally, a warm smile in his eyes. The two of them had been friends for years, even back in their childhood days. Jean-Luc returned the greeting, reaching over to clasp the man's hand in a firm shake. His son watched the two of them, tension radiating from his body. Jean-Luc said nothing, even as he sensed the rising unease in his son; he knew it was nothing directed at anyone in particular in that council room, but that he was anxious to get things underway. A quick glance at Claude told him Claude knew it as well, and he sighed.
" I know you're anxious to begin, Pierre," he said, turning his attention to his son. All eyes followed him, but Pierre didn't mind - he'd been involved with the Guild and its inner proceedings since he'd been old enough to sit quietly and listen. Like his father before him, Jean-Luc believed that the grooming of the next in line should begin as young as possible. " I'll let you start."
Pierre acknowledge this with a rueful smile.
" My apologies father - I mean no disrespect by rushing you."
His father nodded once.
Pierre sighed and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the polished marble top. His eyes raked over each and every member of the council, making contact.
" We have some serious business to attend to, regarding de Guild's future."
" I assume you're talking 'bout de New York faction," came a voice from up the table. Pierre focused his gaze on the speaker, nodding.
" Robert, you know better den anyone, what de situation is like."
Robert Marks had been Advisor to the Guild Master Julian Lumiere, who ran the New York faction of the Thieves Guild. One of the four Master Thieves, Julian had been a strong leader of the Thieves, making valuable contacts in New York that served them in good stead for many, many years.
Sadly, time catches up to everyone, even Master Thieves, and Julian had succumbed to illness the previous year. His Advisor had been the one to help his successor, handpicked by both Julian before he'd fallen ill, and Jean-Luc, enter the position of power. Robert sighed.
" Jean-Luc - as Advisor of the New York council, I strongly urge you to speak with our leader."
" You forget who he is," Jean-Luc commented wryly. Claude smothered a brief smile and raised one hand slightly, acknowledging his right to speak.
" What has he done dis time?"
" Nothing - and therein lies the problem," Robert said calmly. " Your son may be the best thief in the world, Jean-Luc, but he has outside ties that lead him away from our way of doing things."
'Remy, Remy, Remy,' Jean-Luc sighed mentally. ' Always causing problems, even when you're not there.' Fond as he was of the boy, he was still an exasperating son-of-a-bitch.
" Explain," Claude commanded.
" Since taking over Master Julian's position, he has turned most leadership duties over to me, to act as I see fit. While this emphasizes his trust in me, it is not my place to be doing such things. He is a Master Thief, Leader of the New York section of our Guild - and he needs to act like it!"
" I repeat - what has he done? What is your chief complaint?" Jean- Luc stared at the man, and was proud to see Robert stand his ground, unashamed, and unafraid. Jean-Luc already knew the complaint - this particular discussion had been a recurring theme for the past several months, but matters dictated that he begin again, to ensure everyone there understood the situation at hand.
" He is supposed to be overseeing our operations, making contacts and keeping them, for one thing." Robert drummed his fingers on the marble. " Granted, he's there when we need him, and he always has the Guild's best interests at heart, but aside from the fact he's very well-known thanks to his exposure as an X-Man, he's not fulfilling the other duties required of a leader."
" Such as?" This came from Pierre. True or not, he was still loyal to his baby brother, and it irked him to hear anyone criticize him. Even if it was family.
Robert looked at Pierre and bowed his head once, trying to transmit peacefulness through body language. He knew Remy was a touchy subject, but it had to be addressed. he knew Pierre knew that as well.
" He needs to select a successor. Someone to whom the arts can be taught and passed down. There are trade secrets that died with Master Julian, known only to Master Thieves and their Apprentices. Remy has not even thought of that, in all the years since his ascension in rank."
" He's rather young to be looking for an Apprentice, no?" asked Henri Lafife, one of the senior Guild members in charge of training young thieves in their art. " He's not even t'irty years old, isn't that right, Jean-Luc?"
" Twenty-six," Pierre confirmed instead. " He has plenty of time to t'ink about heirs and Apprentices."
" I said nothing of heirs," Robert reminded them. " And with a girlfriend like Rogue, he's unlikely to have a child of his own, anytime soon."
Jean-Luc winced - another sore point with the Guild. It was a shame - he liked Rogue, and thought she was good for his son. Loyal, strong and fearless - too bad about the other aspects of her power.
" I mean an Apprentice - Remy Lebeau has been a Master Thief for seven years, and has never once considered taking aside one of our many talented youngsters, to further educate them in our ways."
" Perhaps he has not yet discovered someone dat he feels is ready to learn such methods," ventured Henri. " Selecting an Apprentice is not something to take lightly."
" We have many young thieves that fit that profile we tend to look for," Robert returned the volley easily. " It is his duty as Guild Leader to train someone."
Pierre scowled. " I'd like to bring back de point dat Remy is still young - I fail to see de urgency in all of dis. He was here briefly less den two weeks ago to help out wit' a situation we had brewing in one of de adjacent towns - he brought our agent out wit' ease. His quick response proves his loyalty to us - no matter his ties elsewhere, he is still one of us and should be treated as such."
Robert sat back. " I meant no disrespect, Pierre. I'm simply bringing this to your attention."
" I understand," Pierre replied wearily. " I want to know why. When I spoke wit' him briefly on dis subject, he also failed to see de urgency in dis."
It was the same argument, over and over again.
Robert hedged slightly, even though his outward expression remained the same. One of the first things any Guild member was taught, was to keep a straight face under any circumstances. Still, the point he had to make made even him feel uneasy.
" I merely wish to point out that in Gambit's case, age is irrelevant," he began gently. " As a member of the X-Men, he finds himself in increasingly dangerous situations everyday. Thievery is one thing - battles against mutants whose powers can kill in single blows, or theoretically destroy the planet is something different. Despite Remy's skill, he still spends a fair amount of time in the X- Mansion infirmary for various battle wounds." Robert stopped speaking for a minute to gage his audiences response. Pierre had resignation written all over his face, while Jean-Luc's remained impassive. Henri looked to be considering his words carefully. Robert sighed and spread his hands out on the table.
" All I ask sir, is that you speak to your son about choosing an Apprentice, to ensure that our ways and our methods won't be forgotten. It is by these methods that our Guild has survived for so many generations, no?"
Pierre chewed his lip thoughtfully before turning to his father. Jean- Luc sighed, knowing the truth in Robert's statements. As much as he would like to deny it, his son ran a very real risk of death every time his communicator went off. A faint pain pulsed in the back of his head, prelude to what he knew would become a migraine in due course. Rubbing his temples, he stood slowly. Immediately, all the councilmen rose to their feet. Jean-Luc sought out Roberts eyes and nodded slowly.
" You make some excellent points Robert," he admitted. " I don't like to admit dat my son's life is in considerable more jeopardy den my own - no parent does - but I see dat you only have de Guild's best interests at heart. I will speak to my son regarding d'ese matters. Pierre?" he asked, turning to his son.
" Father?"
" Has Remy contacted us yet?"
" I received a brief message from him today, father - apparently he has some important business wit' de X-Men to finish up, even d'ough I asked him to give an answer to d'ese matters." Pierre shook his head. Having to discuss this day in, and day out - and then emailing his impulsive younger sibling all the time, trying to nail him down long enough to get his take on things was getting tiresome. " He told me he would be in touch."
" Notify me at once when you hear from him - I will speak to him myself. Understood?"
" Yes sir." Pierre nodded sharply.
" Good. Thank you gentlemen, for coming." Jean-Luc dismissed all of them, barely noticing as they left, eyes staring at the wall as he contemplated what to do. If Remy had failed to choose one of the New York Thieves as an Apprentice, then that meant he hadn't found one yet with the skill and ability. Teaching could only do so much. He sighed again.
'Remy, Remy, Remy....what am I gonna do with you?'
End Interlude
*holds hands up* Okay, okay - I know some of you nitpickers out there are probably ready to rip my head off at the language usage - I don't know french. So for manners sake, these conferences are all spoken in English, Guild members being fluent in many, many languages anyway. But the accent still sticks! And every garbled word I used is actually taken from an X-men book where Gambit is speaking, so for the New Orleans members of the ML - or any French speakers (since we've had an influx of them) - blame Marvel if I've butchered your language. Okay? *grins*
Stormy
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