"You want us to flee?"
Mr. B'lanx sounds unconvinced.
Pfft, Hardly. Even the most foolish would-be soldier knows when to back off and find a new approach. How far has your current methods gotten you?
"I want you to come and receive professional military training in a place where you can buy weapons with your pay. If Prelate J'emm is successful, you'll be able to return to an egalitarian Mars where your company can be folded into the Manhunters. If he failed… You'll have professional military training and guns."
And the threat inherent to that statement is so obvious...
The Manhunters come to alert, the air around their hands trembling faintly with telekinetic force.
"You will leave-."
...Even an
idiot could pick up on it. That
really does not sound that friendly on the surface.
"No."
"No, he can stay." Mr. B'lanx tries to smile. I've seen worse. "I'm actually interested."
I'm guessing he hasn't really gotten the hang of
lips yet, eh? And I see the hook is jiggling nicely. He
really wants more 'negotiating' power, doesn't he?
"And it's not like you actually want him here." I look through the walls surrounding us, unfocusing my eyes as I try to take in the desires of the population of the city. "You're looking at a violent uprising and you know it. The other city states think you're a bunch of colourist arseholes. A few years ago they would have coached it in terms like 'highly conservative', but now there's a cultural revolution underway. And when the uprising happens, no other city will send you help. The city's garrison is all you'll have, and it isn't enough to suppress a population who hate you this much."
Ah, so this city really
is the Martian equivalent of the
Deep South. You know, the stereotypical town of asshole rednecks who probably have white hoods tucked away somewhere, and the angry minorities they just love to keep 'in their place'... The kind you really want the heroes to clean up, one way or another...
"Or. You can send the loudest mouths off the planet for a few years. At worst, that will make the uprising weaker, maybe into something you can actually fight off. At best, your radical elements decide that it's not worth coming back to somewhere they're detested and get given a planet in Reach space to settle by the Controllers." I raise my eyebrows. "Doesn't that sound better?"
"It is not my place to say. But you are talking about arming rebels."
No, if they're not on Mars, they're
hardly rebels. And honestly, not coming back sounds like a much nicer deal. Once they get something set up, they bring their families along and make their own Mars, with
blackjack and hookers Freedom and Liberty for all colours!
"No. As Prelate J'emm told me, once they leave this city, they stop being covered by your laws. And they stop being your prelate's responsibility. A potential invasion from another planet is the concern of the Planetary Council collectively. And-" I nod towards John. "-his, and mine."
"From your employee."
No, not
OL's employee.
L.E.G.I.O.N's. Honestly, were they actually
listening to OL's spiel?
Then again, I doubt they really care about the details...
"I don't like these people. A few minutes ago most of them were wearing the emblem of a terrorist organisation that tried to kill me, several friends of mine, a group of civilians and let loose an insane murderer. That doesn't recommend people to me. I just want them to be treated as people, so that when they act up I can honestly say they were given every opportunity not to be total gits the whole time."
The Whites turn to look at each other, eyes glowing. John frowns slightly.
Sounds like they're having quite the discussion. I bet the topic of OL's attitude is a big part of it...
"This how you usually handle diplomacy?"
"No point in lying to a bunch of telepaths."
Since the slightest gap in your shields will expose it, if they're prying hard enough. And unlike the Renegade, OL's shields, while strong, aren't
nearly as impenetrable.
Mr. B'lanx turns back to me.
"How many Whites will you take?"
Sounds like a lot of them are interested. Of course, there's still the matter of undergoing training, which is sure to wash some of them out...
"I'd say 'as many as want to come', but there's a limit to how many we can fit on the ships. Fortunately, that limit is larger than the number of Whites in this city, so even if I get volunteers from other cities as well… It shouldn't be a problem."
"And for how long?"
Good to see him thinking about that. How long could he and his stand to be away during the most intense parts of the civil rights movement. And how long can they manage being out there, away from home, amongst unfamiliar minds...
"Depends on what job each individual ends up doing. The standard Unaffiliated Planet Sign-Up for L.E.G.I.O.N. has a minimum term of a little over two years service, then you've got the training on top of that. The minimum term for the Darkstars is longer, because Darkstars have traditionally been fairly fanatical and there wasn't any point in a shorter term. And if anyone just gets a civilian job on Maltus, the duration is whatever their contract says it is. The real barrier to returning is the fact that we don't have ships coming this way very often, and I'll offer a personal guarantee that after a year I'll fly back any group of at least a hundred individuals who wish to return."
That's quite the promise. The real question is how many of those going are likely to take him up on it.
"I will need to talk to my people about this."
"Fine with me. Lantern Stewart, could you coordinate with Lantern Coutara on transport arrangements?"
Delegating to his temporary replacement while he's busy.
Good to see him taking advantage of being second-in-charge of the Corps...
He nods. "Sure."
"The Prelate has not agreed to any of this."
Does the Prelate have the final say on whether people can leave their city? Because that kind of attitude just screams 'tyrant' to me.
"The Prelate only has the ability to disagree with the Whites leaving, and since they wouldn't be going to another city, it's a matter for the Planetary Council. I'm asking because I'd rather have an accord, not because I legally need one."
"Those laws were written without regard to alien contact!"
Well, that's shortsighted of you. You think after knowing about Earth for as long as they have (twenty years now since J'onn J'onnz ended up on Earth?) they'd have gotten on top of that by now...
"Then your prelate should probably raise the matter at the next Council meeting and try and get them revised. But in the mean time, we all have to follow the law as it exists. Mister B'lanx? Do you have any further questions at this time?"
"Your ring. Is that one of the positions we can apply for?"
...Yeah, That's just a little worrying. It's clear B'enny here wants
power... I doubt there's much question of what he'd do with it, the angry young man that he is...
"Yes. However, the screening process is quite a lot more strict."
And I'm betting B'enny here would not pass it...
And after taking a quick look at you, I don't think I'll be offering you one of my discretionary rings. Sometimes, revolutionary leaders are true selfless believers in the cause. T'ronn is more like that. He doesn't expect to gain anything personally, just some opportunities that aren't available to Whites when they become available to everyone else. Mr. B'lanx is a believer too, but it isn't just about the injustice. His pride depends that he be the one who creates the change, and he's more than a little interested in exercising that power personally. He's perfectly capable of being an Orange Lantern, just… Not someone I'd take a chance on when I couldn't keep an eye on them.
Yeah, I suspect the first thing he wants to do is kill all the Greens that have ever oppressed him personally over the years... Which, yes, fits
Red more than
Orange, but there's always crossover between colours, after all.
"And then I could fly back myself."
"Clarissi Dox might take issue with you abandoning your duty station, and you'd be flying on your own for a very long time completely isolated from all other minds. But yes, in theory that's something which you could do."
Yeah, whoever's Ssector Lantern at the time would almost certainly be waiting for him when he arrived...
If he arrived.
"How long?"
"The war zone is on the other side of the galaxy. It would depend on how fast you are. Flying in normal space, I can do it in less than a day, but I'm the fastest Lantern I know of. I expect that most Lanterns would take a few weeks. In total isolation."
For comparison, the trip to Earth is what, a week or two at Bio-ship speeds? And M'gann spent most of that in suspension...
"I…" His eyes dim slightly. "Have no more questions."
"Then by all means, go and ask your people who is interested."
And there
will be interested parties. It's probably an attractive proposition, especially for those unwilling to take part in the more aggressive parts of the racial conflict...
The Whites rise and head for the exit, the Manhunters still on duty moving away slightly to avoid… 'Misunderstandings'.
"Right. Now, I believe that I should meet with the Prelate. Would you be so good as to escort me to the palace?"
Oh, that's going to be
noisy... I can't
wait to see it.
