4th July 2012
21:34 GMT
The situation in Xan'Xie is
tense. The locals move around the caverns quickly, with no inter-colour mixing at all. Armed Manhunters are visible at every thoroughfare, and even without mobile faces I can feel the malice coming from the nearby Whites. Their bodies are.. non-standard. They've shifted to increase their musculature, and several are wearing decorations that.. aren't
quite the red circle of the Hyperclan, but are certainly reminiscent of it.
John Stewart looks around.
"Are things usually this bad?"
"This city is generally considered pretty racist, but I haven't been here before. Prince J'emm implied that things had gotten worse recently, but I can't personally confirm that.
"
"This place is one wrong word away from a full blown riot."
"One wrong
thought.
"
He frowns for a second, then nods. "I guess I should thank you for calling me in."
"That's really more something I did because I can't spend the time here that I'd need to. But it-.
"
"My Sector, my problem. I know." He looks around again. "And this really all happened because of that mission-?"
"How good is your telepath blocking?
"
"Good. Not great." He points to the back of his neck with his right hand. "But I picked this up on
Ogoro. Telepath disruptor. Just in case."
"Nice to see someone taking his personal protective equipment so seriously. But if things turn nasty here, you might want-
"
I tap his cuirass with the knuckle of my right index finger.
"-something a little tougher than that.
"
He shakes his head. "Lighter armour makes me look less intimidating. Helps social interactions. If I was coming into an actual war zone I'd agree with you, but we're trying to negotiate."
"With telepaths who aren't used to human facial expression.
"
"Then they'll hear what
I think-."
"No. Because…
" I start to point at my neck, then point at his.
He looks away awkwardly. "It's not a hundred percent effective. Are we supposed to be meeting someone-?"
A
lot of Whites converge on one of the entrances. Civilian Greens stream away in all directions while the Manhunters hold their ground.
"Uh-oh. This our guy?"
I take a look at the desires of the group.
"Those are Martians who have the desires I'm looking for. Combined with the Hyperclan emblem they're
narrowly not wearing, I'm pretty sure that he's in there. But they're shapeshifters and I've never met him before, so I can't swear to it.
"
The Whites try to enter the cavern in a mass. The Manhunters move to stop them. The Whites stop advancing, but they don't retreat an inch either. I can't hear it, but I rather imagine that the Manhunters are trying to give them orders to that effect. It's a weird silent film version of deliberate provocation chicken, and even knowing how serious it is it still seems a little ridiculous. Other than the body structure alterations there isn't even any body language to read. They're just floating there next to each other.
"John, you're up.
"
"You don't wanna take the lead?"
"You're the senior Sector Lantern.
"
"Gee.
Thanks."
He
flies upwards towards the pending confrontation. Not his
first time defusing this sort of confrontation; he was trained by Katma Tui on Korugar when it was trying to decide how to govern itself in the post-Sinestro era, and that was anything
but peaceful. I-.
"Excuse me? You're… Orange Lantern, right?"
I turn around to see a White Martian who has adopted the humanish appearance well enough for me to see that they're nervous. Or at least, mimicking the outwards appearance of humanoid nervousness.
"One of several hundred, yes.
"
"Yeah, but, the one who M-. Who comes from Earth?"
"Was that cut off sentence 'who Mister J'aarkn met'?
"
"Um." The Martian awkwardly rubs his hands together. "Yeah?"
"I met him, certainly. And I'm aware of the memories he's been sharing, and while I'm sure that you're perfectly capable of assuming attractive shapes, that's not why I'm here.
"
"Ah. I hadn't-. Uh. R-? Really? Because. No no no, just forget I… Um."
"What was it you wanted?
"
"Is there going to be a fight? Because I don't want to be here, but they're closing the exits."
I look around… Darn it.
"If it comes to it, I'll shield any bystanders. But we're trying to avoid having a fight break out.
"
"I don't just mean this cavern. When Mel'dilo'rn got rid of the Neapolitan laws I wanted to move there, but the Prelate brought in travel restrictions. We've got even less freedom now than when the changes started."
"Are there a lot of people who want to get out before things blow up?
"
"Is that an option?"
"I'm here to hire some people for work off planet. I mostly need skilled telepaths or people with military experience, but if you don't mind
learning then I can make use of you.
"
"I'd..
love to get better at telepathy. We only get basic education here. I know that's not the case in other cities…"
We have a few telepaths in L.E.G.I.O.N., and… One, in the Orange Lantern Corps. On the other hand, I could just hire Mr. King to train them up. I doubt that he'd mind taking time away from Earth.
"If you had existing skills in that area, I'd recruit you at once. As you don't, I'm afraid any offer will have to wait until-
"
I
feel it as John activates his ring, and look up to see him sticking a
construct barrier between the belligerent parties.
"-after I've spoken to your Prelate. Excuse
me.
"
I fly upwards, a somewhat fixed smile on my face. I know it's useless for exactly the same reason I gave John, and I'm doing it for the same reason
he did. I never claimed to be perfectly rational.
"Lantern Stewart. Problem?
"
The Manhunters draw their guns and point them at one of the Whites, who doesn't outwardly react.
"
No.
No problems.
But we might wanna change of venue."
"Not a problem. We can all fly. Why not have our meeting right here?
"
It's a buoying feeling, isn't it? A rare chance to be able to say you left the world a better place for your descendants, and mean it.
