The captain, still struggling to stand even with the help of 2 just nodded his head. "We might be far from as strong as you all, but we can still fight, we can still break a few sentinels; after all, we are just humans, so their anti-mutants technically don't do anything to us."
His words rang true; the sentinels had made the drones because they needed to. They were advanced and powerful, but also limited in number and difficult to make. Even though they could make more themselves, it was a very slow process.
After all, many components were delicate, and they had long since killed every human in charge of changing their supply. So the sentinels needed more hands, less expensive ones.
After all, even they would fall under enough firepower, and humanity had a lot of that, even without using mutants.
They all knew this to be true; it was one of the reasons Magneto had raided a few military bases for weapons for this place. Because they worked, they could take down a few sentinels or their drones.
For a while, the sentinels were truly deadly mutants killing machines. However, they couldn't bring the same firepower to bear against normal humans, something Magneto didn't like, but he still used.
He didn't like humans, never had, and even less after they unleashed their killing machines onto his people, but he wasn't stupid enough to not see their use, or the fact that the future of mutant kinds likely required humans to be around.
After all, their number was small, and few mutants had children of their own, meaning that the Sentinals hit the nail on the head with their decision to eliminate the future of mutants by eliminating all humans.
He had to agree that, for now at least, humans had their use, and these strange people and their organization did indeed seem to have the ability to be helpful with the current situation.
For while their metal suits might be nothing for him, he couldn't say the same for others. The ability to grant normal humans the ability to fly and fight the sentinels on a more equal stage is indeed something that couldn't be ignored.
"Fine," Magneto said, his tone grudgingly accepting. "You're in. Jean and Charles will brief you on what you need to know. For now, you are welcome here, but remember, I am watching you." His words carried a clear warning—any misstep would be met with swift and merciless retribution.
With that, Magneto turned and left the room, his crimson cape billowing behind him as he exited. He had more pressing matters to attend to than babysitting the newcomers, and he trusted Jean and Charles to handle the situation—though not without reservations.
For while the death of so many of his little followers had finally woke him up to the truth he had been speaking for years, Charles had always had a bleeding heart, so even while it wasn't blind to the truth anymore, he could still be too soft.
As Magneto departed, Jean stepped forward, her demeanor slightly more approachable but still cautious. "We've been fighting the Sentinels for a long time," she began, her voice calm but laced with the weight of experience. "We can start sharing data, and I don't know, either you give us a list of what you can offer, or we make one of what we need." She said, sounding a bit unsure and looked towards the bedbound Charles for help.
"We can certainly provide you with a list of what the Foundation can offer," the captain said, his voice steadying as he spoke. "But it might be more efficient if we start with your most urgent needs. Some things might take longer then others to ship out here."
Jean considered his words, her gaze briefly shifting to Charles Xavier, who remained silent but attentive, his eyes conveying a depth of thought that seemed to reach beyond the room. After a moment, she nodded. "Our primary concern right now is high level medical equipment. We have a lot of wounded that we can't fully care for."
The captain listened carefully, noting the urgency in Jean's voice. He understood that medical supplies were often overlooked in the heat of battle, but they were crucial for sustaining any prolonged conflict. The Foundation had access to advanced medical technologies, and he knew this could be a way to prove their commitment to the alliance.
"I understand," the captain replied, his tone firm. "We can arrange for an emergency shipment of medical supplies. Advanced surgical tools, medicines, and portable diagnostic equipment—whatever you need. We can also offer to take some of your wounded off your hands and place them in proper medical facilities."
Jean's expression softened slightly, a glimmer of hope breaking through her cautious exterior. "That would be immensely helpful," she admitted, the tension in her voice easing just a fraction. "We've been doing our best with what we have, but our resources are stretched thin. If you can provide those supplies and take some of our critically injured to better-equipped facilities, it could save many lives."
The captain nodded, doing his best to keep his emotions in check knowing that these two people before him would be able to read any shift in them. "We have three stealth planes outside this town, that can handle bringing about 50 people back, less if they need medical beds to lay in doing the flight."
Jean seemed to weigh the offer carefully, her eyes reflecting both relief and a deep-seated wariness that had been cultivated over years of betrayal and hardship. "Fifty," she repeated, as if testing the number on her tongue. "We'll need to prioritize who goes first. There are many here who need more care than we can provide, but we'll have to make some difficult decisions."
She turned to Charles, who himself needed help, but he didn't want it, didn't want to leave. He felt guilty, and responsible over things he wasn't to blame for. "We'll compile a list of those who need immediate evacuation," Jean continued. "It will be ready by the time your planes are prepared to depart."
The captain acknowledged her words with a firm nod. "We'll make sure the planes are ready to depart as soon as possible. I'll also contact the Foundation to expedite the delivery of the medical supplies. We'll have the first shipment here within days."
Jean's cautious optimism was evident as she said, "This is a good start, Captain. If your Foundation can deliver on its promises, it could make a real difference in our fight. But understand this—we are trusting you with our most vulnerable. I hope that trust is not misplaced."
The captain met her gaze steadily. "It won't be. You have my word."
Casting another look at Charles, and silently communicated with him. "We'll begin preparations immediately. Please have your people coordinate with ours on the logistics."
"Of course," the captain replied. "We'll be in close contact. I'll have 2 stay behind to help with the arrangements while I go back to our team and get everything set up."
Jean extended a hand, her expression one of cautious resolve. "Then let's get to work. There's no time to waste."
The captain shook her hand, sealing the beginning of their cooperation. "Agreed. Let's get it done."
As he and 2 turned to leave the chamber, heading back to their own forces, the captain couldn't help but feel the weight of what they were about to undertake. To operate right under the nose of those two mutants wouldn't be easy, but at the same time it was a good thing they knew where they were.
It meant that the Foundation would be able to operate more freely elsewhere, without having to worry too much about someone picking up on their actions. While also allowing his group to gain further intel from the group of survivors who likely know the most.
"I'll handle the logistics here, sir," 2 said quietly, breaking the silence. "You focus on getting the rest of the team in order and making sure the Foundation is ready to deliver on these promises."
The captain nodded, appreciating the competence and loyalty of his subordinate. "Make sure our presence here remains low-key. We don't want to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves or our operations."
"Understood," 2 replied. "I'll coordinate with Jean and their team discreetly. If anything seems off, I'll alert you immediately."
"Good," the captain said, his mind already racing with the tasks ahead. "And keep an eye on their communications. We need to be aware of any shifts in their plans or any signs of distrust. We can't afford to be caught off guard."
As they approached the exit leading back to the surface, the captain paused, turning to face 2. "Remember, our primary objective is to assist them in a way that also benefits the Foundation. We need to win their trust, but we can't lose sight of our own goals."
2 nodded, fully aware of the tightrope they were walking. "For humanity!" He saluted, reaffirming his loyalty to the Foundation.
A/N
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