Multiverse Networking

Disclaimer:

I do not own the X-Men or Dungeons & Dragons. This is a work of parody created for non-commercial purposes.



Warning:

NC, Femslash, and other naughtiness sure to offend prudes.



Chapter 4



Although she had a terrible hangover, Jean Grey had gone back to the infirmary the next day. Storm had accompanied her again, however this time (despite a severe headache) Jean could think clearly.



They were alone once more with the two comatose blondes (because Beast was busy working on his stabilizer for the inter-dimensional gateway) Emma and Sophie. Since Grey was no longer drunk she wondered why the other Cuckoos weren’t here.



In their place Jean would never let the woman who had attacked her mentor be alone with that mentor while she was helpless, and (according to what Storm had told her) the Stepford Cuckoos had shown a great deal of remorse since they had revealed to Phoenix that Emma Frost was having an affair with Scott Summers and the former White Queen had fallen into a coma again.



Jean considered trying to contact the girls to see if they knew what she was doing, but then she decided against it. She didn’t want to deal with the drama right now.



The telepathic redhead turned to her friend and said “all right…I’m going to try again.”



Hoping she didn’t sound as nervous and doubtful as she felt.



Then Jean Grey telepathically descended into Emma’s mind.



The woman known as Phoenix was already familiar with the exterior of Frost’s mind (due to all the times she had psychically battled or simply communicated with the woman before this). The physical exterior Emma presented to the world was the result of careful grooming, good genes, and plastic surgery. Her mental front was much the same.



Gleaming white, beautiful, and apparently cold, it reminded Jean of Emma’s body in her diamond form. This mental image had taken the former White Queen over a decade to construct and project, and to a ignorant and unskilled telepath it would appear to be the sum total of Emma’s consciousness.



But Grey knew that there was more to Frost than this pretty and seemingly empty psychic shell.



It resisted Jean’s efforts to get past it, and for a moment the X-Woman thought she might have to call upon the power of the Phoenix to overcome it. But Emma was doing nothing to reinforce her defenses and Jean had formidable psychic talents of her own.



Eventually Jean Grey broke through to Emma’s inner mind.



Although this was not the first time Jean had been inside Emma’s mind it was the first time she had really studied the mental landscape. She was surprised at she found.



Mounds of forgotten secrets and graveyards of buried memories dotted the countryside. There was even a statue to sexual insecurity in what appeared to be a large courtyard (which was something Jean NEVER expected to find here).



Of course there were also mountains of achievements and monuments of pride, but Jean expected to find such things in Emma Frost’s mind and their existence came as no surprise.



But Jean knew she would not find Emma in any of those places.



She caught the scent of Emma’s core consciousness and followed it to an alleyway of shattered dreams.



The Avatar of Emma Frost’s conscious mind was hiding there.



It was not what she expected.



She appeared as a blonde child of no more than eight or nine, wearing the remains of a tattered pink dress, and staring at Jean with an expression of absolute terror.



“Go away” little Emma whispered.



Jean simply gaped at her for a moment. Feeling a deep sense of shame and regret in response to Frost’s obvious fear.



“I know I hurt you Emma…and I’m sorry…but you can’t just stay here forever…you need to come out” Grey said soothingly.



“No..no..your just going to hurt me again” little Emma whimpered as she backed away from taller woman.



“Emma you can’t stay here forever” Jean Grey firmly repeated. Then she reached for the smaller female.



Little Emma Frost shrieked as Jean’s astral form reached for her and put a hand on her shoulder. She shook it off and screamed



“LEAVE ME ALONE!”



Jean groaned as a massive burst of psychic power threw her out of Emma’s mind. Feeling disoriented from being so abruptly thrust back into her own body, Jean turned back Storm and stammered “I think…I am not the right…person for this.”







Illithids (or Mind Flayers as they were more commonly called) were hated and reviled in Iberia just as they were virtually everywhere else they lived.



That is because much like vampires, Mind Flayers have to feed off people to survive. However, unlike the undead blood suckers illithids cannot feed off their victims without killing them (due to the fact that their diet consists of brains instead of mere blood).



Making the presence of an illithid a threat to most people.



But in Iberia the Mind Flayers had largely been allowed to thrive. Thanks to the role they had played in helping Chrissy Lera consolidate control of the country.



However, the Mind Flayers in Iberia were still hated and feared by those around them, and this was especially true of Minister Archon.



At 7ft. Tall Archon dwarfed most of his kind, but that was not the source of his power. Much of Archon’s influence was due to his position as head of the Ministry of Security. As the leader of Iberia’s dreaded secret police, Minister Archon had a legion of spies, assassins, and saboteurs under his control and was answerable only to the President herself.



Minister Archon was also a phenomenally powerful telepath by the (high) standards of his own people.



Minister Archon’s spy network combined with his psychic abilities not only gave him vast power but also made the tall Mind Flayer extremely hard to surprise.



Nevertheless, it could still happen, and as a rule, Archon did NOT like surprises.



Thus when he ‘heard’ the psychic death cry of the young and relatively inexperienced Mind Flayer known as Thrintun, Minister Archon reacted badly.







Wolverine was highly regarded for his fighting ability, determination, and (perhaps most of all) his ability to survive virtually anything.



But he was generally not respected for his intelligence and wisdom. Nevertheless, Logan was not a stupid man.



As a soldier in unknown and potentially hostile territory Wolverine knew what he must do.



Recon.



So after a long search he found himself in a little bookshop in a somewhat run down neighborhood of Neroka. Fortunately the book store had books in English and Japanese (some of them with helpful illustrations).



Including the work of non-fiction he was currently looking at, RACES OF THE WORLD.



Logan recognized many of the species he saw in the book as races he had seen in the city. And learned about creatures such as drow, mind flayers, Beholders, High Elves, and Orcs.



After that Wolverine looked at a government issued pamphlet to learn about the local rulers.



“Hmm…she’s a pretty little thing” Logan thought as he looked an official photo of President Chrissy Lera.



But the hardened soldier knew that didn’t mean much.



Besides Wolverine had more immediate concerns.



“Hey you gonna buy something?” the store cashier and only other resident of the book shop asked in bad Japanese.



“In a minute” Logan answered in that same language. Not looking up from his reading material.



But the little man was not satisfied with his response.



“You can’t just read…you need to buy something” the man insisted.



The cashier was not a bad man, but he had had a long day and didn’t have much patience for loiterers. So the middle aged human male walked up to the foreigner and poked him in chest.



Or tried to anyway, for just as his finger was going to touch the American’s chest the mutant brought up his arm and three gleaming claws emerged from his wrist. Stopping just inches from the man’s throat.



“I’m reading bub” Wolverine said slowly.



The terrified man back away slowly. Careful not to make any sudden moves.



“Sure…sure…no problem” the cashier replied.



But Logan had already gone back to reading.







The elf/Orc hybrid known as Jenny Calendar slept fitfully in the President’s bed.



This was not how the elfin hybrid had planned for things to turn out.



Jenny had always been a woman of modest means and morality. In her teens she had turned to petty theft to feed her lavish tastes but she soon moved on to more serious crime. Like burglary and identity theft. However, Calendar had little stomach for bloodshed or serious risk, so she never became a ‘truly’ hardened criminal.



One of Jenny’s preferred methods of acquiring money was to hang out in a high class bar and then approach the wealthiest man or (if she seemed like she would be interested) woman there and then flirt with them for a while. After that Jenny would suggest that they go to ‘their place’ and get to know each other more intimately.



If she was genuinely attracted to the ‘mark’ she would let them have their wicked way with her once they got to the man or woman’s place, and then she would drug them (usually by putting something in their food or drink). If she found them unattractive she would simply drug them as soon as possible once arriving at their place. Then Jenny would steal everything that looked valuable that she could carry away.



Calendar had spotted Marian Casta in a local nightclub and had planned to do as much to the beautiful and apparently wealthy female. But the perceptive vampire had seen right through the younger woman’s ruse, and soon Jenny had found herself way in over her head and confronted by the Iberian dictator in the Presidential Palace.



Jenny was abruptly woken up by the distinctive noise of a vacuum cleaner in operation.



The naked Orc half breed shivered in the blankets that covered her and stared blearily around.



Marian and Chrissy were gone, and the room was now occupied by a plump middle aged human woman wearing some sort of white uniform and pushing a vacuum ahead of her.



“Who’re you…where’s Marian and Chrissy?” the redhead asked groggily.



The maid glared at her.

She had always resented Chrissy and Marian’s ‘pets.’ Women who were pampered and given privileges just for being pretty and catching the President or her bodyguard’s eye.



While SHE had to clean up after them and got nothing in return but her meager salary.



Still, it wouldn’t be a good idea to insult President Lera’s newest pet. So the maid forced a smile onto her face and said with false warmth “my name is Aya child…and the President and lady Marian are in a meeting.”



Which was true enough, although someone as low in the Palace hierarchy as the maid had of course not been informed as to what they were meeting about. Still, she preferred not to admit her ignorance.



Jenny Calendar got up and searched the room for her clothes. Frantically getting dressed as quickly as possible.



“Well tell them…tell them…that I had fun but I really must be going” Jenny said as she put on her bra.



The maid smiled and replied with false sympathy “I’m afraid that’s not an option dear.”







After Jean Grey’s unsuccessful attempt to heal Emma Frost, Jean and Storm had gone their separate ways.



However, a few hours later, once Ororo Munroe had gotten a chance to talk to Beast and Professor X about the murder on campus and Wolverine’s disappearance she had gone to check on Jean again.



Ororo found her friend in the room she and her husband Scott Summers shared on campus.



The room was trashed, Scott’s belongings were broken and scattered upon the floor, along with assorted lamps, chairs, and other furnishings.



When Storm walked all the way into the room she finally saw her friend.



Jean lay sprawled upon the floor, dressed in nothing but a simple white bra and panties, with a vacant look in her eyes and bottle of wine clutched in her hand.



Apparently Jean had decided that the cure for a hangover was more alcohol.



“Oh Jean…what have you done to yourself” Storm whispered.



She couldn’t just leave her on the floor.



So the weather witch half dragged and half carried Grey to her bed.



However, just as Storm was tucking the woman known as Pheonix into the bed she and Scott had shared so many times, Jean unexpectedly grabbed Ororo’s wrist and whispered pleadingly “don’t go Ro…I don’t want to be alone” in a slurred voice.

Storm meant to say she had to go, that Jean would be all right by herself, that there were important things she had to do.



But when she looked into the pleading and uncharacteristically vulnerable face of her friend, the words died unspoken in her throat.



“Okay Jean…I’m here for you” Ororo said as she let the Caucasian telepath clutch her dark skinned form to her chest.



“Oh Jean…Emma isn’t worth this” Storm whispered (more to herself than Grey) as she rested her head on Jean’s shoulder.



However, Ororo was wrong.



Jean Grey wasn’t repeatedly getting drunk because she couldn’t face what she had done to the former White Queen or how her husband had betrayed her.



Jean was trying to bury herself in alcohol because ever since she had attacked Emma the Phoenix Force had seemed eager to unleash its power whenever she became at all excited about anything.



Its ‘voice’ (for lack of a better term) was a constant presence now.



And it was getting louder.









The meeting was taking place in a section of the Presidential Palace known as the War Room.



The War Room was filled with computer monitors showing surveillance footage from areas throughout Iberia. It had communications equipment for real time communications with virtually all Iberian forces out in the field. Moreover, that same communications equipment could be used to activate Iberian ‘defensive’ satellites and other unmanned weaponry.



If the Lera government ever went to war, the battle would probably be directed from here. Unfortunately the possibility that the room would be needed for such a purpose had never been greater.



President Lera (accompanied by her friend and bodyguard Marian Casta) was conferring in the War Room with the Minister of Defense, Rosenthrall and Special Agent Melanie Brooks.



Just like her superior the highest military official in Iberia was a drow. However, unlike President Lera, Rosenthrall had the figure of a gymnast. Slender and muscular with tiny breasts and no ass to speak of. Minister Rosenthrall was also about a head taller than Chrissy (As usual Rosenthrall was wearing skintight black body armour). However, despite the fact that she had to literally look down upon the President, there was never any question of who was in charge.



Agent Brooks was another matter entirely.



Her facial features and skin tone suggested that she was a human woman of Han Chinese origin. But Melanie Brooks’s pointed ears and four breasts hinted at her non-human ancestry. However, as usual the spy’s more ‘exotic’ features were concealed by magic and holographic technology.

Most importantly, Brooks (unlike the vast majority of Iberian intelligence operatives) reported directly to the President, rather than someone at the Ministry of Security.



Although even if Chrissy Lera hadn’t been her direct superior, Melanie might have felt obligated to bring this sort of news straight to the President.



“You can’t be serious…the Republic of East Asia wouldn’t DARE attack us” President Lera exclaimed.



“I’m sorry madam President but this is no joke…all the intelligence I’ve gathered clearly indicates that the Republican military is gearing up to invade…within a few weeks or months at most they WILL attack” the spy calmly replied.



The drow dictator was silent as she contemplated this horrible news.

The military forces of the Republic of East Asia were in most respects far smaller and weaker than the forces at the Iberian Ministry of Defense’s command. However, thanks to her spy network the President knew that the Republic had covertly purchased a few primitive nuclear weapons a year ago. Moreover, the fact that the Republic of East Asia was allies with China (which like the Republic, shared a border with Iberia) also indicated that the Lera government would not do well in any war between Iberia and the Republic of East Asia.



“We will have to accelerate the RIGHTEOUS FURY project” the dark elf finally said while looking at her Defense Minister.



“The…human will want more money” Rosenthrall said distastefully.



While the Minister of Defense normally didn’t concern herself with economics, she knew that the Iberia government was already paying the arms dealer about everything it could without going heavily into debt.



“I don’t care…we can’t afford to argue about money at this point…just do it Rosenthrall” Lera responded heatedly.



The military leader simply bowed her head respectfully as she said “very well madam President.”



Then she walked off and left the room.



The President and her bodyguard turned to the spy.



“Go back there and gather all the information on their battle plans you can…if they do invade I need to know when and where” the President told her intelligence operative in an intense tone.

“By your command” Melanie answered sincerely as she saluted.



The beautiful dark elfin dictator was glad she could count on Melanie Brooks. Without the four breasted spook and her unique talents the drow ruler might not have learned of this threat to her realm until too late.



Still, as Chrissy watched the spy leave to do her bidding, Lera couldn’t help wondering if she could have ever gained Brooks loyalty without relying on the magic and technology at her command.



Then Chrissy Lera shook the stray thought aside, deciding that she had to focus on more urgent matters right now.



Besides, Melanie Brooks was on the side of the good guys (or in her case, gals) and that was the important thing, Chrissy concluded.







Jean Grey’s sleep was tormented by nightmares.



Visions of things she dreaded doing, or feared enjoying, or simply wanted to do so much it hurt. Visions of what the Phoenix Force could do for her.



Jean eventually woke up with her head nestled in Ororo Munroe’s warm soft bosom.



Those who knew Jean Grey would be shocked at how often the redheaded telepath had fantasized about being in such a position.



People who knew Grey and Munroe were far more likely to assume that the dark skinned Storm harbored romantic or sexual feelings towards members of her own sex. In many ways the exotic looking black mutant simply seemed far more sensuous and free spirited than her redheaded friend.



But such was not the case.



While Ororo HAD experienced deeply intimate and emotional relationships with other women, some of which were as close as any she had experienced with a man, she had never actually felt sexually attracted to another woman.



Jean Grey was different.



She had felt a profound attraction towards her beautiful black friend ever since she had met her. A longing she never expressed.



And a feeling she tried to hide from everyone (even herself).



For Jean had been taught that good girls didn’t sleep with other women. And Jean had always been a good girl.



At least until the Phoenix Force found her (or perhaps she had found it, Jean Grey couldn’t remember anymore).



Now, things had changed.



When she had attacked the former White Queen, something inside her had snapped.



Inhibitions and psychic barriers which had once reigned in (to some extent) the power of the Phoenix Force inside her had been bypassed or simply destroyed. Now, the only thing holding the power of the Phoenix in check was Jean’s will.



However, unlike Jean, the Cosmic force known as the Phoenix was tireless.







LOOK AT HER.



The message from the Phoenix to Jean Grey did not really arrive in the form of words. For the Phoenix Force was an entity of passion and power, and ‘thought’ in a manner very different from humans and similar creatures.



Nevertheless, its message was colored by her own thoughts and desires, and as a result, Jean ‘heard’ the mental message as such.



So she obediently stared at her friend.

Noting the sleeping Storm’s lovely hair, luscious lips, and beautiful brown skin. Jean felt a sudden desire to kiss the gorgeous lips. Though whether the impulse originated from her or the Phoenix Force she couldn’t say.



However, it didn’t really matter, for Jean Grey knew the wind rider wouldn’t welcome the attention regardless.



YOU CAN make HER WANT YOU.



Jean instantly knew the words were true.

She sensed that with the power of the Phoenix she could change Storm more completely than mere telepathy ever could. Making loving and desiring women seem as natural to Ororo Munroe as feeling that way about men did now.



She could abandon her faithless husband Scott Summers and turn Ororo into the sort of partner she had always wanted.



“No…wait…I’m not like that” Jean thought as she realized that last train of thought had not originated in her, but come from the Force.



If she forced Ororo to love her, it wouldn’t be real love at all. Besides, if the only way she could ‘win’ Storm was to change the woman’s mind almost beyond recognition, that wouldn’t be a real victory at all.



With a titanic effort of will, Jean tried to shut out the devilish ‘voice’ of the Phoenix (which offered things she had no right to take). The Phoenix Force resisted at first, then it unexpectedly gave way, freeing her mind of its interference.



At least for now.



But its troubling promises remained with her.



Jean could not dismiss them so easily. For she wanted what they offered, and she knew the Pheonix Force could deliver.



With these thoughts in mind, Grey couldn’t resist giving Ororo a gentle kiss upon the lips.



The sleeping Storm would never know how much she hurt her friend, when she unconsciously pushed away from Jean.







The mind flayers of Neroka were having a bad day.



Their fellow illithid Thrintun had been murdered by a mere (mutant) human. His psychic death cry heard by all.



Thrintun had not been a particularly important or popular member of the mind flayer community in the capital city. Nevertheless, they did not tolerate members of the ‘lesser races’ (a category virtually all non-illithids fell into as far as they were concerned) to kill their own.



Moreover, the famously vindictive Minister Archon had made his displeasure known regarding the fact that his followers were taking so long to track down the killer.



DESPITE the fact that the vengeful Thrintun had mentally transmitted an image of his killer’s face with his dying breathe.



Yes, the mind flayers of Neroka were having a bad day.



And they wanted to share the pain.







Jenny Calendar was also having a bad day.



She had chosen to ignore the unfriendly maid and had spent the last few hours looking for a way out. However, all the ways out of the section of the Presidential Palace reserved for President Lera and her friends and family were guarded by human soldiers (most of whom were attractive women). These guards all politely but firmly informed the elfin hybrid that she couldn’t leave.



With all her escape routes cut off, the opportunistic Jenny decided to look for loose cash or other valuables she could make ‘use’ of.



This eventually led her to the only locked door within this section of the Presidential Palace.



The door looked like most doors in the palace.

It was average sized, made of metal, and gleaming white.



But to the bored and frustrated Calendar it was irresistible.



Who knew what treasure lay behind it?



The lock was well constructed, but Jenny was an experienced thief, and eventually defeated the device (and opened the door).



“What the hell” Jenny Calendar said as she peered inside.