[Archive] With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Story Only)

[Mr Zoat]

5th February
21:16 GMT -5

My armour is tough, but if Q-Ranger's powers work like Major Force's then he can keep hitting me indefinitely and he's… Yes, impeding my ability to repair it by ring. Constructs are out, and… Ugh. Problem. Like Captain Atom, Major Force 16 can switch back and forth between human and metallic at will. But I've just run into Justice League 12, and Captain Atom 12 is a containment suit wrapped around a nuclear explosion. That's the sort of mistake I'd only make for the people around me once.

Can I touch his desires..? No, something blocking me. I'd guess Medea, but since I can't identify a local source it doesn't really matter. Close combat, then. I continuously try to send out filaments in order to keep his attention focused on his work and lumber towards him, arms outstretched. A barrier interposes itself-

"Thanks, Star!"

-and I trigger my right gauntlet's crumbler field to smash through it, grabbing Q-Ranger with my left. My gauntlet begins heating up at once, but now that he's touching my environmental shield directly…

Desire Nullification.

He blinks, the glow of his eyes dimming.. and.. I have constructs again. Quick flick through the equipment catalogue… Quantum stabiliser, that'll do. I generate construct shields to block Dame Carol's shots, stab out with x-ionised knives to destroy Vice President Luthor's arm-mounted plasma repeaters and clamp the quantum stabiliser to Q-Ranger's neck before shoving him out of the line of fire. Dame Carol flies towards me, the glowing crystal sword which appears in her hands slashing through my barrier. I interpose my left arm, twisting it so that the sword bites into what's left of my bracer and.. mostly passes through but is at least turned away from my body. Carol drops the sword and it decays into crystal dust as she replaces it with violet crystal fists which I immediately destroy with crumbler constructs before striking her in the head with a pile driver construct.

"Ugh!"

Soldiers around the room open fire, but their guns are a mixture of low power plasma and chemical projectile guns. Not a massive concern except in utterly overwhelming numbers. I shoot out filaments, punching through their armour and shock crowning them to the ground.

"It will take a little more than losing a leg to-."

I fire mage slayers at Sir Solomon's elbow and then step away, his hand keeping its grip even as it parts company with his upper arm and the last of the soldiers drop.

Ring, access the schematics for the planeshift jammer my blue alter ego gave me and jam an area of 100 metres.

Compliance.

I then turn to Vice President Luthor, my armour glowing as I begin to undo Q-Ranger's damage.

"Please stop. Every time I fight to support Syndicate efforts I feel a little more stupid, a little more like I'm making myself culpable for their prior actions."

"That's usually how it works when you-"

Lady Sonar takes out a backup weapon so I fire a blast of electromagnetic energy at her. Her weapon and some of her cybernetics spark and shut down, allowing me to connect a filament to her head and render her unconscious.

"-help someone."

"No, I know I'm now partly responsible for their future actions. I accept that. It's the idea that the Syndicate is some monolithic-." I sigh. "This isn't going to work, is it? Even if I could have talked you around-."

I reach out and properly render each of the baseline human soldiers unconscious and point a railgun at Dame Carol as she pulls herself out of the crater she made on impact.

"Dame Carol, I'm afraid that I'm going to have to ask you to surrender."

The sapphire on her chest is still glowing, but she doesn't immediately generate a new construct.

"I will not surrender to the Syndicate."

"I'm not a member of the Syndicate. Can you surrender to me as an officer of the Orange Lantern Corps? We haven't had to actually deal with any prisoners yet, so you'd make an interesting test case."

"No."

"Literally the only reason why everyone here isn't dead is that I don't want to kill you. I don't want to kill you because it won't help the people of this country. It appears that.. I'm in a minority in caring about that, but-."

Luthor's face hardens. "That's why we're doing this-."

"Enigma literally told me to my face that he'd happily repeat Wisconsin in every state if that was what it took to destroy the Syndicate."

"Enigma has lost a great deal fighting the Syndicate. It doesn't surprise me that when faced with someone in their employ he used immoderate language."

"Alright, fine: would you?"

I hear a sliding sound, and half turn as one of the… The unconscious and paralysed soldiers pushes herself off the ground. What? She reaches up to pull off her gas mask and.. a.. swirl of gas momentarily obscures her face.

"I would be very interested-"

The gas vanishes, revealing a blank face, her armour bleached white with the American flag replaced by the Eye of Providence.

"-to know the Answer myself."

Luthor narrows his eyes slightly. "I've never met a living conspiracy theory before."

The Answer shakes her head. "Mister Vice President. I am a living conspiracy fact. An Answer you're unwilling to provide." She walks closer, her posture relaxed. "You've seen the same assessments that Orange Lantern has. The same assessments that my operatives have. You know the outcome of this conflict even as you set it in motion. And you're not Slade Wilson. Even with all of the friends you've lost you still haven't lost your objectivity, your.. devotion to your ideals. You would not let America burn as the President would. You talked him into waiting this long because this was the only approach which you believed could work in a way that you would both find acceptable."

The Answer stops just out of arm's reach as Luthor shakes his head.

"Whatever policy disagreements I may have with President Wilson, I would never air them to this country's enemies."

The Answer pointedly looks at me.

"Given that Orange Lantern is here and Batman is not, you may reasonably suppose that your attempt to overwhelm the majority of Made Men has failed. I have already been notified that Sureshot's attempt on the Director's life has similarly met with failure, though in his case fatally. Though Talon has been successful in neutralising most of Owlman's retaliatory plans, that leaves at least three sources over which you do not have control, in addition to the… Manual efforts of the Made Men."

Luthor's eyes dip, his head turning slightly away for a moment as… I assume that he's trying to come up with another solution.

"There is no more data to be gained, no more questions to be asked. Your path and that of the President are now irreconcilable. So you have a simple choice: mutually destructive escalation or a cautious disengagement. I already know the Answer… But I think it may be best if you say it."

Luthor shakes his head, a very subtle motion as he tries to deny the reality.

"I know how you work. I know what you'll do."

"I'm a well known criminal. Your administration's reputation will survive my actions. And Slade Wilson's legacy will remain intact."

"I…" Luthor closes his eyes and bows his head. "I agree."

The Answer nods. "Correct Answer. I will make the arrangements."

"The Syndicate loses." Luthor shakes his head as the Answer turns and starts to walk away. "Then why does it feel like we do?"

"You didn't get what you convinced yourself that you deserved. That's always the Answer. Anything else is window dressing. Orange Lantern, I will speak with you before you leave."

Another swirl of mist and the woman the Answer… Possessed? Collapses to the ground.

Dame Carol frowns for a moment, then relaxes. "The war is over."

Luthor shakes his head. "No. It's never over. But the campaign is." He looks at me. "Have you killed anyone?"

"To the best of my knowledge, not on this Earth."

"I would appreciate it if you could arrange for the Justice League to be released."

"I'll need one of your teleporters, but… I should be able to do that. What exactly happens next?"

"We're enacting your plan, apparently. You should be happy. You've probably saved millions of lives."

"We've saved millions of lives. And to be honest? I suspect that I'm about as happy about it as you are."

 

[Mr Zoat]

5th February
21:31 GMT -5

The world shimmers and I appear back in the room where I left the Justice…

"What the hell happened?"

My cold bursts put out the fires, but I really hope that Shadowcrest has a self-repair system. The tarpaulin I put over Ultraboy is gone, the youth unconscious on the other side of the room.

"Turns out a tarp doesn't stop heat vision." Mr West is upright, though most of the restraint gel is still stuck to him. "Did you know this stuff was heat-resistant, or were you planning on having him kill us?"

"I-." Damage.. matches… "I'm sorry. My Superboy doesn't have heat vision. Ultraboy didn't use it last time we fought." I think he's looking a little less angry. The half-mask makes it hard to tell.

Superman still looks aggrieved. Though intact, which is nice, given that I thought he'd be the first person to feel Jonathan's wrath. "Where's J'onn?"

Talon and Duela are in the recovery position off to one side, Diana is standing over Jonathan just in case he wakes up and piles of melted and ripped chains litter the floor. At least no one's dead.

"Don't know, and given that he tried to put me to sleep telepathically I'll have to work up to caring. Good news: there's an official truce in the works and your services are no longer required."

Lantern Stewart's eyes narrow-. I take his ring out of one of my utility pouches and toss it to him. He catches it and slides it back onto his finger. "I think we'd like to confirm that for ourselves."

"Sure. I need to evacuate you to hold up my end anyway. The old Syndicate facility under Mount Justice is currently occupied by the government, and it should have an internet connection. That alright?"

Hawkgirl holds out her right hand and I return her mace to her. By construct, as getting within arm's reach may not be wise. "Not without J'onn."

"What difference-?" I nod. "Fine, fine. Wait here."

I-. I pick up Jonathan with a construct stretcher and float him out of the door. There's a residue… Reads as… I'm not sure what that is, though there's enough of a kryptonite-based substance in it that I wouldn't want to expose a kryptonian to it. His vitals… He'll have bruises, but I don't think there'll be any permanent damage. Hm. Library's back, but flying in the direction of the door Zatanna summoned… Yes, it's still there, good.

On the grounds that surprising a gangster-magician who just narrowly survived an assassination attempt would be a bad idea, I knock twice with my right fist.

A man with a dimly-glowing sword opens the door, blade-point facing me. He takes me in, then lowers his weapon and steps back. "Don? It's Power Ring."

Zatanna has Mister J'onzz trapped in a flaming cage. I… Don't remember anything about Mars 12 Martians being especially afraid of fire, but I suppose that the potential for being burned to death would stop most people trying anything. She looks around, relief evident on her face. The Don himself has six floating puddles around him, each showing a different person or location. He looks my way as I come in.

"He dead?"

"No, but Luthor took the deal. After I beat up his retinue."

He nods. "Great news. If it's true."

"The Answer leaned on him. Get in touch with… Her? If you want confirmation. And apparently someone called Sureshot-."

The Don nods. "Tried killing Caulder. We wondered who it was. He was having trouble identifying the body. Eclipse." The swordman nods. "Get some reliable people and sweep the house. If this guy snuck in, Luthor mighta called in more help."

"He did. Part of the deal is that they get released."

"You told him we already got them?"

"I already did get them. Mister J'onzz-. Zatanna, can you turn that off?"

She nods, stepping away from him. "Hsiugnitxe."

The flames evaporate and Mister J'onzz half-collapses, panting for breath.

"Not clever, Manhunter. Fortunately for you, we've come to terms. You and your League are leaving now."

"What have you done?"

"What I had to in order to get an outcome I could live with. Do you need help to walk?"

He looks directly at me, his disdain evident. "And who has paid the price for your gratification?"

"Egrem."

The pools of water floating in front of the Don merge into one.

"Dnuos."

"…a stroke. We have no further word on the President's condition, but specialists are being flown in…"

"You've murdered the President. How can you possibly think that will help matters?"

The Don chuckles. "That's how the Answer works. Things just happen. I'd guess that Luthor thought the same thing Orange did, that after Preceptor's assassination attempt failed and Orange stopped you, there was only one route left."

"Don?"

He pushes the floating puddle aside. "Did the Answer say whether or not Wilson survives?"

"No. But he won't be resuming his office. And if you don't follow through on your end, this all falls apart."

"I'll keep up our end. Just as soon as the Answer tells me what it is." He smiles faintly. "I can guess what you're going to ask. You don't want us to bother you again." He shrugs. "And I'd like to agree. You've done us a good turn here. And relying on outside contractors undermines our authority. But if we really needed you, we'd call on you. And we both know that if enough innocent people were at risk, you'd swallow your distaste for us and come."

"You're right. But if that happened, I would be forced to decide that you were a problem worth my time to fully resolve. However long it took, when I finished there would be no Syndicate. On my Earth, Don Giovanni, we have a prison for magic users like you, and I will personally remove your larynx before delivering you there."

He nods, unfazed. "As long as we both know where we stand. Zatanna?"

Zatanna glances my way for a moment, then returns her attention to him. "Yes?"

"Sindella and I were always planning on having more children. It would have been nice for Zorina to have a few brothers and sisters." He shrugs. "That didn't happen. I don't really want to see Orange Lantern any more than he wants to see me, but you're family. I want you to know that you're always welcome here."

Zatanna's face is a picture of distaste. "Why would I want to come here any more than he does?"

"You think we're bad people?" She nods. "You Catholic?" Another single nod. "Then if you think we should repent our sins, you're the one person who might convince us to see things your way. If not me, Zorina's going to be running this part of the family eventually. And since we're going to be de-escalating… You might be able to talk her around."

She glares at him for a moment, then about-faces and marches from the room. I drop off Jonathan, pick up the still-unsteady Mister J'onzz and head after her. She slows to a stop just outside and activates her kinetic belt.

"I don't know where we're going."

"Follow me." I head towards the room containing the Justice League. "Manhunter, under the circumstances I think it might be best if you took Talon and Duela with you. I'm not sure what happened to Sai-."

"She teleported out when Preceptor teleported in."

I nod. "Then she's gone, good. Are you as ready to go home as I am? " She nods. "Then let's hope that Gubbins has finished his repairs."

 

[Mr Zoat]

5th February
21:53 GMT -5

"Why the long face, Orange?"

Mister Scott makes an expression of benevolent puzzlement, his arms held up in a gesture of appeal.

"The President's dead, and I made it happen."

He shrugs. "He might pull through. They haven't announced-."

I glare at him, and he has the decency to stop talking. "And I've managed to make an enemy of a Justice League variant I actually know."

He looks away from me for a moment. "The Don's probably going to want to go to the funeral."

"Oh yes, very respectful. The whole point of the Answer killing him like this was so that it can't be traced to Syndicate activity-. Actually, why didn't the Answer do that weeks ago? Why did he need me-?"

"Sometimes, violence isn't the Answer."

The.. man himself walks into the room, dressed in a more traditional anti-Question costume of white coat, hat and trousers, the Eye of Providence pin on his lapel. While I can see him in empathic vision, none of what I'm seeing really makes any sense. There's little emotion, and the tiny unreadable flecks there are don't appear to be connected to anything.

"Seems like it was here. I talked no one around. Luthor only agreed with you because I outfought everyone he had with him."

The Answer shakes his head. "Don't underestimate Luthor. If you hadn't undermined his belief in the absolute evil of the Syndicate by making peaceful overtures, he would have been quite prepared to die for his cause. He had to accept the Answer in order for these events to unfold."

"And you couldn't do this in some other way?"

"A math problem in an exam is written to have one correct Answer."

"Yes..?"

"If the problem is complex, a far smaller proportion of students will give that Answer than will give a different, incorrect Answer. Having you here allowed us to.. phrase the question in a way which would lead to the Vice President giving the correct Answer, rather than continuing with Slade Wilson's wrong Answer. You are still dissatisfied."

"Of course I am."

"If you were waiting for a certain Answer-."

"I could have removed him from office without killing him."

"Perhaps. But this will motivate the Made Men to accept the change in their working conditions more easily than they would if they believed that the President would pursue them."

"I don't-." Zatanna walks in, two books floating alongside her. One has runes stitched into the leather-bound cover, while the other is more mundane. "Ready to go?"

She looks at the Answer and Mister Scott, then nods. "More than ready."

The Answer nods, while Mister Scott smiles and waves. "You kids take care, now. Don't do anything I would!"

Zatanna traces a circle around me with the Staff, while-. Huh. "Mister Scott?"

He makes a dismissive motion with his right hand. "Ah, call me 'Al'."

"We're going home using a government-owned facility."

"Yeah?"

"You realise that that means that Luthor knows where we are. And how to contact me."

His face falls slightly-.

Zatanna taps the staff against the floor. "Teg su tuo fo ereh."

Mist coils around us, and when it falls again we're just outside Mount Justice. There's a military cordon, and the formerly concealed main entrance is wide open. Great, right, now we can go home-.

"How old are you?"

…

"Huh?"

Zatanna isn't quite looking at me. "I thought it was strange, how every other member of the team was the same age as the versions here and you weren't. And then I remembered that your ring lets you change how you look." She looks up, meeting my eyes. "You told us it was the first thing you did with it. I didn't really think anything of it, but… You're not younger, are you? You're the same age." Her eyes widen. "That's why-. Oh.. God, it all makes sense now. Who-? Who knows?"

"I told Jade. I'd be surprised if Diana and Batman aren't suspicious. That's it."

"Oh God, I was-. Why did you even..?"

"I honestly hadn't realised how young Diana and.. the rest of you thought I was. Not until she tried sending me to school. And then… I.. panicked, and said what I thought I needed to in order to stay on the team."

"I knew you acted older, but I just thought-. Thought you were being British, or.. it was because you thought you had to because everyone on the team was younger than you."

"No."

"Hehhah." She laughs nervously. "Artemis said she thought it was weird that you found her mom attractive. I didn't think-."

"There were women Paula's age I found attractive when I actually was-."

We… Don't look at each other for a moment.

"So. What now?"

I shrug. "We find Gubbins and go home. With regards to my age, I'd rather not tell people, but if you want to that's okay. Just give me a little warning."

"No, if you.. don't want to tell people, that's up to you." She doesn't say anything for a moment. "If you'd told me, I-." She cuts herself off. "I want to say I wouldn't have been so attracted to you, but.. Zorina.. married.. you. So… That's not true."

"I'm more similar to Blue than you are to her. But yes, I see where you're coming from, and you may well be right. I'm sorry."

"Hey." We look up at the man in the dull blue overalls. Gubbins, I assume. And the circle of soldiers with their weapons nearly raised. "The VeePee phoned ahead, but I don't really want a couple of Syndicate stooges in my new workshop. So get moving and get lost."

I nod. Doesn't really matter how much of that he heard if neither party ever wants to see the other again. "Certainly. If you'll show us the way?"

He floats up on some sort of gravity repulsor harness and heads towards the entrance-.

Dame Carol lands in front of us.

Gubbins grimaces. "Star, I wanna get them out of here. If you wanna have a duel or whatever-."

"No. This will take but a moment."

He drifts to the side and she approaches me.

"What can I do for you?"

"The war here is over, and my obligation to President Wilson discharged. But you freed me, rearmed me and spared me in combat, and so now I have an obligation to you."

"That's fine, don't worry."

She looks mildly offended. "My honor is not so light a matter."

"You can pay me back if I ever come back here?"

"You have been clear that you do not intend to come back. It would be inadequate repayment."

Oh… What can I-?

"You're aware that people who are villains here tend to be heroes on my own parallel? And the reverse?"

She nods. "Yes."

"How would you feel about a trip to Zamaron Sixteen?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

Earth 12
4th March 1996
09:01 GMT +1

Mr Gisler of SGN Banking smiles at me as his secretary escorts me into his office. "Mister Wynne. Good morning."

"Good morning." I head over to his desk and shake his hand before sitting down in the client side seat.

"Can I offer you some refreshment?"

"No, not for me, thank you."

"Very well." He makes a dismissive motion with his right hand and his secretary heads back out of the office, closing the door behind him. "Now, I understand that you have some… Interesting business for us?"

"Yes, 'interesting' is a good way of putting it. I'm not-. I'm sorry, I'm sure that your bank can handle this, I just… Wasn't completely sure which department I should come to."

"Well." He shrugs friendlily. "Why don't you explain to me your business, and then, if I cannot help you, I can make an appointment with someone who can."

I nod. "Thank you." Convincing lie mode time. "I… Work in physics. To be precise, in the study of teleportation."

"I have heard of teleportation of course, but I am afraid that any technical explanation-" He shakes his head. "-you could give me, I would not understand."

Which I was counting on. "As simply as I can put it, I was working on a teleporting smelter. It was designed to move specific atoms from ore, and so massively reduce the cost of refining metal. But when I was working on this, I found out that when you teleport something the size of an atom… It doesn't take very much energy at all. So little that you can set the start and end points to… Not just what's within arm's reach, but… Well, light-years away, if you want. Including through solid matter."

"That's… Remarkable."

"Yes. If you think about it… Too remarkable. Quite aside from the fact that it could easily be weaponised, I… Well, it would destroy the modern mining industry. But… I realised that there are obviously other ways to make money with that sort of technology-."

Mr Gisler holds up his hands. "I will just stop you there. If you were thinking of discussing with me any criminal activity, I would warn you that while we respect our clients' privacy there are certain limits."

"Oh, no no no. Ah… I don't.. think so. I mean, the obvious criminal use would be pointing it at a gold reserve or something, but I realised-. Well, the smelter can be set to only extract a particular atom, that's the whole point of it. And since there's no real range limit and asteroids aren't owned by anyone, I pointed it at Seven Zero Four Interamnia."

"I'm afraid that I don't know the name, but I assume that it is an asteroid?"

"Yes, quite a big one. And I set the smelter to look for platinum. And because the smelter is so energy-efficient, I just.. kept going, and now three times the annual platinum output of all Earth-based mining concerns is sitting in a warehouse in Surbiton."

Mr Gisler looks at me for a moment, clearly not sure how to react.

"That is.. a great deal of platinum. Is it quite safe?"

"No. That's one of the things I was hoping that your bank could help me with."

"Yes. Yes, we can certainly store it for you. What I meant is: is it safe in the short term?"

"It's a solid metal block weighing eight hundred tonnes." I chuckle nervously. "If anyone can steal it, I'd.. say they've probably earned it."

"I.. don't think that we can move a block of that size and weight."

"Oh, no, that's just a security measure. I can use the atom smelter to break it up into… Bars, or whatever the proper size for platinum is."

He nods. "I can arrange for armoured transports to move that. I will.. have to check the volumes of material and the space we have in our vaults. It may be that we have to make arrangements with other banks if you want it all to be stored."

I reach up and scratch my head with my right hand. "Well… No. It's just shiny metal to me. I need to turn… At least some of it into cash. Honestly, I'd be happy to sell all of it, but I'm not sure if I can do that without causing global prices to drop. And I don't want to shoot myself in the foot."

Mr Gislet leans forward slightly. "As a private citizen, you are under no obligation to tell anyone that you have this metal. My colleagues in Commodities can arrange for a quiet sale so as to not damage the market. You would get slightly under market value minus our commission, but if that is acceptable to you then I can pass the matter to them at the conclusion of our meeting." He looks a little awkward. "I am sorry to have to ask this, but… Given the irregularity of your case, would it-?"

I open my briefcase, pull out a packet of photographs and hand them over. They variously show me, a box of blinking lights, a giant perfect cuboid of silver metal and the warehouse that surrounds it all.

"Herrgott."

He spreads them out across his desk, trying to get a sense of scale.

"Would it be acceptable for me to keep these?"

"Yes, certainly. I, ah… I own the original."

"Yes, I suppose that you do." He tidies the pictures into a pile and returns them to the packet, which he then nervously taps against his desk. "We can.. handle the transportation and sale. Will this be a service which you will want to use in the future as well?"

"Ah… No. Even after taking costs into account, I.. don't think I'm going to need any more money for the rest of my life. Can I assume that you can handle my conventional banking?"

"Yes, that is a little more within my usual area of responsibilities."

"And I'm going to need.. legal advice. Commercial legal advice. I don't know what sort of taxes I have to pay on the metal… I'm not trying to avoid anything or.. evade paying what I owe. I just don't know what I owe for something like this."

"That will not be a problem. You are a British national?"

"Yes."

And I honestly am. There actually is a process for people who appear from a parallel universe to claim citizenship, though I've got no idea why they have one. The local version of Sir Percival found the whole thing rather entertaining. Nice chap. Had to get a new National Insurance number because my original one was owned by someone else here and a new name because I can't say my old one, but the process itself was remarkably simple.

"We have people familiar with British finance who will be able to advise you. I'm not certain how off-world law would be handled, but I imagine that between our legal team and the Inland Revenue we can come to an agreement."

"Thank you."

"Have you given any thought to how you will invest your money? We are happy to simply put it in a high interest account for you, but that may not represent the most profitable use of it."

And I have. The nineties internet is painfully slow, but I was just about able to confirm that the Jack Knight version of Starman was active in Opal City. So much super advanced technology around the place and yet walking down the streets I could easily pretend that I was still on my Earth.

"I was thinking of starting a business, developing.. certain forms of advanced technology for civilian use. I don't have a.. business plan yet, it's all in the very early brainstorming stages."

"Do you wish to establish the company in Britain, or in another country?"

Money where my mouth is…

"The use of certain financial loopholes, where… Companies hide their money… That sort of thing has always annoyed me. I will be founding the company in Britain, not in a letterbox in Gibraltar."

"I respect your patriotism, Mister Wynne, though I am obliged to point out that it will most certainly cost you a great deal of money."

"I understand. I'm fine with that."

"Well then." He smiles and offers me his hand again. "I will speak to various people, and contact you at your registered address by close of business on Wednesday. Once we have reached an agreement on exactly what we can do for you, you will receive a written contract no more than a week later."

"Thank you very much." I take his hand and shake it. "I look forward to doing business with you."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Earth 12
21st March 1996
18:11 GMT

The phone rings.

And keeps ringing.

While it's true that I don't really have to worry about the cost, I'm still used to e-mails. Their speed, convenience and ubiquity. As it is I had to phone around just to get this number, and getting anyone there to-.

"Opal City Observatory."

Yes!

"Good afternoon. My name is-" Slight hesitation. "-Peter Wynne. Would it be possible for me to speak with Doctor Theodore Knight?"

"Ah, probably? Hold on, I'll go find out for you."

"Thank you."

"Dad? Some English guy wants to talk to you."

…

That was either Jack Knight or David Knight. And what little I read about David suggested to me that he would make a point of actually going to where his father was before speaking. And then there's the fact that he died early in his career. I.. don't know if that's true here because I have no internet access and there's no reason for anywhere I have ready access to to have detailed records on an American superhero who hasn't been active for decades. The Justice Society didn't exist here, with various iterations of the All-Star Squadron being the nearest equivalent. Which means that quite a lot of what I remember from the comic can't have happened.

There's also no Justice League, no Superman and no Wonder Woman. I've got no idea whether or not Batman exists and while there is a local Green Lantern they don't appear to be spending much time on Earth. No sign of Aquaman or Atlantis generally. Not sure about Flash or Martian Manhunter, but the first wouldn't be that big a deal on a global scale and the latter can shapeshift. And… I don't really see what finding out more about that aspect of things really gets me. The Guardians aren't going to want another orange ring user around the place and I doubt that anyone would pick a fight with Larfleeze for my convenience and win. So… Unless I start to recognise specific events of global significance there's really no point in-.

"Knight here."

"Good afternoon. My name is Peter Wynne, and I'm very glad to have reached you."

"Happy to be of service. What exactly can I do for you?"

"I've recently come into rather a lot of money, and while I was trying to work out what I could productively do with it, I… Remembered reading Arnold Munro's biography, the bit about his time with you in the All-Star Squadron. In particular, his description of your cosmic rod and the way it turned background radiation into… All of the things you could do with it."

"The rod's not for sale."

"Oh, gosh, no, I'm… Not brave enough for something like that. I'm really more interested in adapting the… Cosmic..? Converter..? Component? For civil power generation."

"Oh yeah?"

I can hear his uncertainty.

"I'm.. no expert, but a device the size of a baton which can enable a man to fly must be generating quite a lot of power, to say nothing of the force the force field mode was able to withstand. I don't know if you've given any thought to the idea, but I'd very much like to explore the possibility."

"Just civilian power generation?"

"Ah… Well, I'm not averse to exploring other possibilities as well, but that seemed to be to be the most obvious application we could bring to market quickly. The power distribution network is already there, and most places we'd be setting up are already used to having lots of different generator types feeding into the system."

The British energy market only stopped being a series of regional monopolies six years ago. I never really thought that having different people 'supply' the energy to customers when it all went into the same grid made any sense, but it works to my advantage here.

"And that's it?"

"Doctor Knight, I'm not sure what you're getting at?"

"It's been a while since I read Iron's book. Did he happen to mention what happened to me after the war?"

"You.. spent some time in a psychiatric hospital."

"I helped design, test and build the first atomic bombs. After they dropped, they showed us the pictures. The military guys wanted to congratulate us because we'd ended the war. I looked at all the burned out buildings and imagined… All of the people who died. I'll be straight with you, Mister Wynne: I like what you're saying. I'd like my work to be used for peaceful civilian projects. My son Jack was kvetching at me about that very thing only a little while ago. But I'm worried all the same. I don't want another Nagasaki or Hiroshima on my conscience."

"Doctor Knight, the world has many weapons, big and small. I don't really see the benefit in adding another, slightly better one."

"Money's a good reason, for a lot of people."

"Doctor Knight, I've already got more money than I know what to do with. I could buy an island, stick a villa on it and live the rest of my life there without worrying about money ever again. I don't want to do that. I want to improve the world. I don't want to… See something on the news about some hospital in Africa not being able to power their heart monitors or.. premature baby incubators, because their power supplies are rubbish and they can't get fuel for generators. I don't want to keep hearing about fixable problems when it's in my power to fix them. I want to know I fixed them. This isn't going to be a not for profit thing, but-. Money… Is the tool I intend to use for.. finding solutions. Making those solutions work. For encouraging the next-. Ah, begging your pardon, 'mad scientist'-"

"Heh."

"-to work for me rather than someone who might go with weapons manufacturing. And… You can't take it with you."

"Oh. Ah, are you ill?"

"Life is a terminal disease, Doctor Knight. None of us are getting out alive."

"Hehhahah. That's, ah… That's an interesting way to look at it."

"So while I could buy a yacht that I don't know how to sail, a high performance sports car I'd probably write off the first time I tried to drive it or… I don't know, negotiable female companionship of a sort that I like to think I'm deep enough not to enjoy for too long, I'd rather do something actually worthwhile."

"Okay. So… Say I'm interested. How do you want to work this?"

"We should probably meet up, so you can make sure that I'm on the up and up. I'm happy to fly you and whoever else you want to bring over to England, or I can come to Opal?"

"It would be nice to see England again, but all my equipment is over here."

"Okay, I'll come to you then. Assuming that we get along, we'll probably need to talk to some lawyers. I mean, I genuinely don't want to make weapons, but I completely understand if you want that on paper. And… Depending on where we start first, we're probably going to need to talk to someone in government because this is going to be a very disruptive technology."

"That's not actually something I know much about."

"Me neither, but I know people who do." Vicariously. Uh, what are the requirements for visiting America? Do I need a visa, or do I just flash my passport? Do I need any injections? "I'll telephone you again once I've finalised my travel plans."

"I'll look forward to it. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

I return the handset to its cradle. The handset is connected by a wire. That takes me back.

That phone call went as well as it could have done. And my new life is on track. Metal converted into money, the least mad mad scientist I could get hold of sounds like he's interested and SGN are being very helpful.

My only real worry at this point is Lex Luthor. I know that LexCorp exists but I don't know exactly what areas it has interests in. It could be that they aren't involved in the energy market, in which case all I really have to worry about is how to politely say 'no thank you' to any partnership offers. If they are… Well, it's not like he kills every competitor. Unless I do what Superman.. might do at some point and challenge him in his own manse I doubt he'll resort to extreme measures.

I reach for the Thompson Directory and flick through for 'travel agents'.

Now let's put my Business Studies GCSE to use.

 

[Mr Zoat]

Earth 12
12th December 2001
18:43 GMT -6

As the claws press up against my neck I realise that I may have made a rather serious mistake.

"And who.. are.. you?"

Doctor Minerva's face is so close to the back of my neck that I can feel her whiskers as they brush against my skin. Instinct. She wants to be able to tear out my throat if she doesn't like the answer. I would have thought that a woman of her intelligence would realise that a gun would be a better-.

Her claws tighten slightly.

"My name is Peter Wynne." I don't think she has a magic lie detector so I don't need to explain how it's only sort of my name. At this point I've… Sort of gotten used to it. "Are you hungry?"

"I haven't eaten British before."

"Our food culture's come a long way since the eighties. But…" I gesture to the preservation crate on the bench in front of me. "I brought this as a sign of my honest intentions."

"What's inside?"

"Springbok."

I feel whiskers and fur move as she shifts her head to take a look. And I feel the air move as she sniffs. "Why?"

"Your physiology is a mixture of human and cheetah. I'm not sure exactly what you can eat… How your… Splicing has affected your digestive tract, but… I know that predatory animals get their vitamins from organ meat. I… Thought you might like it."

Or maybe you'll be incandescent with rage at me implying that you're an animal. Or you might be incandescent with rage at me implying that you're not a good enough biologist to understand your own digestive processes.

Another sniff. "Is it fresh?"

"Killed a couple of hours ago. The.. box is designed to keep food fresh without freezing it. It should be perfectly palatable."

"Open it. Slowly."

I cautiously reach forward and deactivate the stasis field, then open the lid. The smell of blood immediately fills the air. I then pull the crate a little closer and tilt it so that she can see the meat inside.

"That smells good."

"I'm glad that you-."

Ow! She just… Licked me? Cheetah tongues are barbed and do not feel nice. At least she's removed the claws.

She pulls back enough that I can't feel her any longer. "Step aside."

I sidestep to the right, looking around at the rest of her laboratory setup. Some of the equipment is stolen, and the rest is either old or damaged in some way which caused it to get thrown out. Power comes from a cable which runs to a nearby junction box and I've got no idea what she's doing for water.

The glamorous life of a supervillain.

I feel her tail rub against my leg as she softly and silently approaches the crate. I turn slightly to face her and her slit-pupilled eyes flick to my face for an instant before fixing back on the meat.

"So we're clear: if this is drugged I will kill you before it can take effect."

"It's not drugg-" Her right hand darts forwards, grabs a still-bleeding liver and brings it up to her muzzle. "-ed." She sniffs it deeply twice, then tears into it with her teeth, pulling, ripping and then jerking her head back and swallowing, blood and liver juices dripping down her mouth and onto her fur-covered chest.

She's… Her fur is thick, but she's still clearly mostly shaped like a human woman. There are very clearly fur-covered mammaries under there and I'm going to move my eyes back to her face now. She's eating at quite a pace, not really chewing at all as she gulps the meat down. As she eats I get a good view of the altered structure of her jaw and her decidedly nonhuman teeth, sharp for cutting and stabbing, the grinding function of human molars abandoned as a result of her ill-advised auto-experimentation. She swiftly finishes the liver and breathes lustily in pleasure before turning to face me.

"Are you an autograph hunter?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Autograph. Are you here for my autograph?"

I frown. "Do people do that?"

"You'd be surprised." Her tail curls from left to right behind her. "But that's not why you're here."

"No. I.. want to offer you a job."

"What kind of job?"

"Biological research." She narrows her eyes slightly. "I have a prospectus-" I gesture to my coat with my right hand. "-if you don't mind me reaching for it?"

Her eyes narrow, and she makes a small shrug as she starts cleaning her right hand with her tongue. I reach into my jacket and pull out the booklet with 'Schizo Applications' emblazoned on the cover, then put it down next to the crate.

"Essentially, my business makes its money by acquiring the rights to… Unusually advanced technology and finding civilian applications for it. I'm aware that this… Wasn't what you originally intended, and I see definite commercial potential in your work."

Her face relaxes slightly, her eyes widening. "Y..?"

"Obviously, you have.. certain.. legal difficulties which we'd.. have to work around. My company is based in Britain and I.. don't think we're going to be able to get you indefinite leave to remain. But that's okay, I've been thinking about opening a branch in the United States for a while. There's so much.. stuff to work on here. Do you.. have much experience with project management?"

"It's.. been a while. When you're a supervillain it's.. hard to.. find willing collaborators."

"I imagine. There are a few other scientists I'm going to be trying to recruit, but it's unlikely that you'll be working with anyone in your speciality.. quite on your level."

"Why?"

"Because high-end scientists with criminal records are cheaper to hire than scientists without criminal records. Oh, and I'm afraid that compulsory counselling will be part of the employment contract."

"I'm not crazy."

"No, but you've been living in isolation and in constant conflict with all of those around you for a prolonged period. Humans don't work well in those circumstances. And.. then there's the-" I gesture to her face with my right hand. "-risk-taking."

She sighs. "It was my life's work. I couldn't just abandon everything I'd been working on."

"In point of fact: you could. You could have gotten a job in a related and more commercial field while you applied for grants, or worked on 'splicing' in your spare time. Instead, you tested a.. demonstrably unsafe mutagen on yourself. Now, that might have been a risk you decided to take because you carefully weighed up the risks and decided to take a chance… But just in case-."

"Let me guess: it's a condition of your insurance."

"Oh." I shake my head. "They don't do insurance for people who employ supervillains. I just put money in escrow and cross my fingers. So far so good, but I haven't cracked the American supervillainy scene just yet and I'm told that some of your contemporaries are fairly hardcore."

"Do you want me to make introductions?"

"Not at.. this point. There's a fairly narrow… Sane-enough-to-be-employable and crazy-enough-to-be-useful… Margin for error, and I'd rather focus on a small number of individuals and.. use them to encourage future waves of employees."

"So you're not forming a supervillain team with this as cover."

"Either 'no' or 'yes, and I'm having them work within the law', depending on how you look at it." I think about the dying power ring sitting in a safe back in England. "I've never really gotten into the more flamboyant sort of criminality. Should I take it that you're interested?"

"Yes. Yes… Definitely."

I smile. "Good show. I've procured the services of a removal agency to…" I look around. "Assist you in shutting this place down. They know better than to ask questions, but if you could avoid directly telling them anything they might have to claim the fifth over in court..?" She nods. "Much appreciated."

I reach into my jacket and hand her some paperwork and a pair of keys.

"One contract of employment, a debit card linked to a prepaid account and a key to an apartment for your use until.. things are settled and I've got a location for you to move to. And a contact number in case you have any concerns or queries." I smile and nod deferentially. "I'll leave you to your meal."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Earth 12
6th February 2005

02:38 GMT, apparently

I blink owlishly at my bedside clock, and for a moment try to remember exactly when I got my first clock radio back on Earth Prime. The one before that had a horrible beeper and I was glad to see the back of it. Behind me, Barbara wriggles and starts sleep-grooming my back, purring throatily as she does it. Which is a bit weird, but people in a relationship make allowances for one another and this is far preferable to the sleep-chew she gave me the first time we slept together, which resulted in a trip to casualty.

Why am I awake?

Yesterday… Not a lot happened. I had to have a chat with Lenny about him skipping his therapy sessions and he accused me of giving him mixed messages by inviting him to a supervillain team up and then blue-balling him, but I'm… Reasonably confident that he was joking. Jan Gisler's retirement party is in a few weeks and as an important client I've been invited to that…

No, not coming up with anything. Turn around, nuzzle Barbara and then go back to sleep? Sounds like a plan. Just check-.

My eyes widen and Barbara's left licking a hole in the bed sheet as I climb out of bed at speed, swiftly entering the code for the bedroom safe and taking out the cosmic baton Ted gave me 'for personal protection'. Force field on button three. Then I head towards my home office and my document safe. Someone's touching the ring. I don't exactly know how much harm a near-dead ring can cause but I'm not interested in finding out. Baton in my right hand and pointed forward I shove the door open with my left and hit the light switch.

Batman glances at me, then returns his attention to the orange power ring in his right hand.

"Fascinating. I didn't know they came in this color."

"Put it down, Mister Wayne. Put it down now."

"How did you get it?"

"Is it whispering to you, Mister Wayne? Is it offering you everything you've ever wanted? Because that's what it does. It tells you that you can do anything with it. Please, put it down."

He places it down on the mantelpiece, and I take a moment to-.

"You need a better safe."

"Ninety nine percent of people who might try and rob my safe would just blast it open. I put the ring in my office safe in the hope that they'll assume all that's in there is paperwork."

"How did you get a power ring?"

"Why are you in my house? I don't know what arrangement you have with the Gotham police, but I'm fairly sure you don't have any right to be here."

"Your citizenship application states that you had it in your possession when you arrived."

"Mister Wayne, I'm pretty sure I couldn't beat you in a fist fight but I'm pretty sure I could shoot you through a wall with this on wide beam."

"Peter Wynne, thirty eight years of age. Appeared out of thin air from a parallel universe nine years ago. You claimed to have no idea how it happened."

"And I didn't. Still don't. Look, has one of my employees had a relapse? Is that why you're hassling me?"

"We're speaking because I recently had an encounter with two versions of you from another dimension."

"Do you mean 'parallel universe', or were they really six dimensional?"

"I thought that their voices sounded familiar, but it took me some time to remember where I'd heard them before. May twenty ninth, last year. A phone call was made to my home number. The caller offered to deploy a nuclear device at the Thanagarian construction site in Libya."

An event I haven't spoken about with my Thanagarian employees. Quite a lot didn't make it back to the Command Carrier when their commander ordered a pull out, and while they've mostly been released by the various governments that were holding them as prisoners of war they're obviously not exactly popular due to the whole 'trying to blow up the planet' thing.

"Yes, and Mister Pennyworth politely pretended that he had no idea who you were as I got steadily more frantic, and that's why virtually all of the ring charge I was keeping for emergencies is now gone. I was sitting at the bottom of the Mediterranean Sea for hours waiting for someone to contact me, so with the Justice League expanding you might want to work on your coordination a little."

"You know who I am and where I live, and you've done so for years."

"My home parallel doesn't have superheroes. I put the ring on and asked: 'who are these costumed lunatics?'. But given that you're doing good work there's nothing I wanted to do with the information. Although I'm seriously thinking about using it in order to serve you for this."

"What do you intend to do with all of the criminals in your employ?"

"So I remember hearing about a case where Mister Cobblepot was released on licence, then returned to prison after helping some of his former employees find legitimate employment contrary to the terms of his parole. And I seem to remember hearing that you protested both the release and the return to prison." I shrug. "What I'm doing is giving them an avenue to use their abilities for the good of mankind, and to benefit themselves. Without doing anything illegal."

"Except when they turn on you."

"That happened with two out of… Eighty? Both times I was rescued by other employees and I'm pretty sure that one was a LexCorp plant. Supervillains… It's an ingroup-outgroup differentiation thing. Once they categorise you as one of theirs, as being on their side, the.. sane ones are usually alright. You just can't trust them to follow abstract rules."

"Oh, is that what this is." Barbara pads in behind me. "You're my ingroup."

She folds her arms across her chest, putting her weight on her right hip as her tail whips back and forth.

I sigh. "Batman, is there any chance of you leaving?"

"I still need-."

I walk up to Barbara, wrap my arms around her shoulders and curl my hands upwards so that I can stroke her head around her ears. She relaxes slightly as I lean closer, gently kissing her muzzle.

"You're the group I love being in most of all."

I rub a little harder, and she isn't quite able to prevent her eyes closing slightly in pleasure as I continue to kiss her. We've learned that tongues are a bad idea with her teeth and papillae, but her lips are still sensitive enough to enjoy this sort of contact. I press against her-.

"He's gone."

I maintain the pressure on her head. "What, you want me to stop?"

"Nrugh, I need to get up tomorrow."

I pull my face away from hers slightly, my pyjama-clad chest still pressing against her fur-covered breasts and my fingers still kneading her head.

"What did Batman even want?"

"It sounded like he had a run-in with a parallel universe version of me. And in case you're wondering, no, this isn't a sign that I'm secretly planning on picking a fight with the Justice League."

"Goodnrughuhuhuh." She tilts her head back, pressing harder against my hands, her tail wrapping itself around my waist.

"Oh, and I'm assuming that you heard me refer to him by name?"

"I know, don't tell anyone." She shakes her head, pulling her ears out of my grip for a moment. "I have to ask. Could your power ring..? Fix me?"

"Assuming that you'll simply dismiss my claim that there's nothing to fix-."

She pulls further away, looking into the mirror suspended over the mantelpiece.

"This isn't-. Me. I know you don't care-."

I walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her. "This is the only 'you' I've ever known. But in answer to your question… Maybe. It might also have driven you insane, torn you apart because it ran out of power half way through, called the universe's other insane and horrendously powerful Orange Lantern here from Okaara, or… Any number of other things."

I crane my head down and nibble at her neck for a few moments, until I feel her tail wrap around me again.

"It wouldn't be a safe or reliable fix, Barbara. And I love you just the way you are."

She leans her head against me. "Okay. Let's go back to bed. But if Wonder Woman's in there, I'm going to want a better explanation."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Realigned

6th February
07:08 GMT -5

"Um." Holly stares at Artemis's tight-fitting work out trousers as she and Paula jog closer to our meet-up point in Robinson Park. "Damn."

Karon arches her right eyebrow.

"Huh? Oh, come on. Look at that!"

Karon turns her head away slightly and raises her right hand.

And Holly realises her mistake. "Karon. I didn't mean-."

"She's romantically involved with a young man, so I think you're out of luck."

"I'm window shopping, not-." Karon starts walking away. "Oh, no, that's not…"

Artemis jogs up beside me as Holly goes after Karon. "Ah… Are they… Not jogging with us?"

"Perhaps they'll… Join us later."

"Are they having a fight?"

I give my legs a quick stretch. My identity, Paula's former identity and Jade's identity are public knowledge, so anyone with a working brain should be able to tell that Artemis=Artemis. Then again, people around here… But, she doesn't want to strengthen the painfully obvious association so I'm wearing only one ring, it's on my left ring toe and my environmental shield is down so low that it's virtually invisible in this light. I mean yes, Gotham's better these days, but I'm not stupid.

Point being, I have to at least look like I'm warming up normally in order to maintain the pretence.

"Holly appreciated a certain person's physique out loud. Karon was less than impressed."

Artemis snorts as Paula slows to a stop alongside us. "Yeah?" Artemis looks around the park. "Who'd she check out?"

I look at her.

"That black chick over there?" She turns back and sees me looking at her. "She-. Oh. Huuuuuuh."

"I haven't spoken to Wallace about-."

Her eyes widen slightly. "I hadn't realised you'd met Wally."

"Yes, we've bumped into one another at KordTech a few times."

Not often, in reality, because neither of us are based there and we don't visit the same parts of the company. But it's a believable place for us to have met as far as a casual observer would be concerned if a) they knew who I was b) they don't know who Artemis is c) they know who Wallace is but don't know that he's Kid Flash, and, d), probably some other conditions as well.

"Oh. Right, yeah."

I smile at Paula. "Paula, good morning."

"Good morning, Paul. Ready for a run?"

"Yep. Just think I need to phone Wallace and warn him about 'that black chick' stealing his girlfriend first."

Artemis grimaces, growls quietly, then takes off down the path. Paula follows at a slightly slower pace, and I take a moment to make eye contact with Holly and wave before dashing to catch them up.

With crime falling and Pamela Isley reformed, Robinson Park has seen a resurgence of joggers. Mister Freeze murdering those people in Grant Park probably helped send the overflow here as well. Still, it's a cold part of the year and so we don't have that much competition for the pavement on work days.

So far Zatanna hasn't far decided to tell everyone my age, and as I briefly meet Paula's eyes I'm sorely tempted to just come out with it. It's… Like the reason Bob gives in The Atrocity Archives for homosexuals being -historically- banned from the British intelligence services: being gay meant that you could be blackmailed by foreign agents… Because being gay meant that you could be fired, which was only a problem because of the rule banning homosexuals. After someone pointed out this catch 22 they changed the rules so that homosexuals were fine as long as they weren't in the closet, because if they were out and proud they couldn't be blackmailed about it.

Except…

If someone actually did blackmail me… What exactly happens? It's not as if I'm obsessed with public opinion, and… Compared to Grand Theft Baking Supplies, I doubt the fact that I told people I was twelve years younger than I actually am is going to arouse all that much excitement. Threatening to tell my friends? A bit awkward, but nothing compared to how anything someone could blackmail me into doing would make me feel. Police? I'm not a US citizen and I doubt that Hippolyta would care. I'm publically nineteen, so other than the fact that I'd be able to buy alcohol around here not a lot would change legally.

"Did you do a lot of running before you starting running with us?"

I glance at Paula for a moment before returning my attention to the path ahead of us.

"No, not really. Treadmills-" Once or twice, more to be sociable or because I was taking a break from my rings than for the purpose of exercise. "-or exercise machines were more my thing. Though my trainer did once make me run the marathon."

"Which one?"

"No. The marathon. I had to run from Athens to Sparta, retracing the route of Pheidippides. There's some nice countryside in Greece, but I can't honestly say that I recommend it."

"That could be interesting."

"I didn't know that you were into endurance running."

"When I was younger, I trained myself so that I was ready to commit whatever crime was most profitable. After I recovered from my injury, I tried to get back to that same level of fitness. But I no longer have anything to aim for."

"Perhaps you should try a normal marathon first? I mean, I can arrange passage to Greece-" By flying you there. "-and I'd be happy-" In the interests of building good relations with my future mother-in-law, not because I like running. "-to run it with you."

She smiles as we reach the northernmost part of the park and turn east. "Thank you."

I look right and see Holly and Karon cut across the grass to catch up with us, their disagreement apparently resolved. I'm not seeing any real emotional damage, but… Come on, Holly! At this point you should know that while Karon doesn't expect you to police your eyes she does expect you to police your mouth a little.

"Have you heard from Jade yet?"

"No, and I doubt that I will for a few days. She'll probably want to familiarise herself with her new working environment fairly intensely at the start."

"Who will she be fighting?"

"Hopefully, no one for a while. The place she's being sent to is a solid ally, but the… Enemy are really good at infiltrating and exploiting internal divisions. When she does, it will probably be locals armed with local weapons. Less dangerous than plenty of things she's fought on Earth."

She nods as Artemis slows to allow us to jog alongside her.

"I am sure that you are right, but I still worry. We had not fully reconnected when she left. I am not.. complaining that you found her the opportunity. If she must fight, then I would prefer her to fight for a good cause than for the League of Shadows. But I miss her."

I nod. Jade knows I can get access to instant communication technologies… But she hasn't asked me to give one to anyone. But I could nudge her about writing, or.. something. "I'll see if I can come up with something."

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
07:32 GMT -5

I take the bowl of porridge off my tray like some sort of caveman and put it down on our table. Then I repeat the process with my glass of orange jui-.

Artemis gives me a condescending look. "What are you doing?"

I smile at her. "Normalcy."

"You're out of practice."

"Yes."

I stow my tray on an unused chair with the rest, then pull up my own chair and sit down. Next, I open up the little sachet of honey -no golden syrup here- and pour it into the porridge. Normally we all go home for breakfast, but Paula suggested this for our expanded group. Ugh, and the honey's.. sticking to the sachet and.. I can't get the spoon in…

"…but you're keeping his name?"

Paula nods at Karon's comment. "Yes. It's on all of my paperwork. I am used to it now. And it would not be fair to judge the rest of his family by Lawrence's behavior."

"And I'd find calling you 'Tuyet Nguyen' really weird."

Holly looks confused. "I thought you were called 'Paula'. I'm.. sorry-."

Paula shakes her head with a quiet laugh. "Lots of people from Asia take Western names for the sake of convenience. I've been 'Paula' for even longer than I've been 'Crock'."

"So you don't, like, mind?"

Paula smiles, shrugging. "No. Why should I?"

"Ah… I.. guess. It.. just… I mean, I wouldn't pick a new name if I moved to Vietnam."

Paula raises her eyebrows. "Are you sure? You don't want me to choose one for you? I think you would make a delightful Hau Li."

Holly focuses her eyes on her bagel. "Er… No."

"Hey, Paul." I look over to Artemis. "I was wondering something."

"And what was that?"

"I was talking to Wally about names. If you and Jade do get married, is she taking yours or are you taking hers?"

"Why, does Artemis West not work for you and you want moral support? Because I don't think Wallace Crock sounds any better."

Karon shakes her head. "Who's 'Wally'?"

"The guy I'm dating."

Paula looks mildly concerned. "Artemis..?"

"No, we're not-. Getting married, Mom. It just.. came up."

"Would I take her name?"

Four sets of female eyes swing my way, and Artemis nods.

"Would I take her name..? Over the name that not only can I not say, not only can I not think, but I haven't actually even been able to communicate to anyone?"

"Oh." Artemis dips her eyes. "Yeah."

"Yes, yes I would. As long as she agrees to rationalise the spelling."

"Rational-?" Artemis frowns, then nods. "Right."

Holly frowns. "So you'd be Paul Crock?"

Paula shakes her head. "Jade uses my maiden name. Nguyen."

"What's wrong with 'Win'?"

"The person who came up with romanisations for Vietnamese pictograms was some sort of moron, that's what. 'Win' is spelt En-Gee-You-Why-Ee-En."

Holly blinks. "Huh?"

"Yes, that was my response the first time I saw it written down as well. I was thinking… Double Ewe-Why-En-En?" I look at Paula and raise my eyebrows interrogatively.

She shrugs and shakes her head. "If you like? If that is how you feel then I think you should talk to Jade about it."

"Of all the things I worry about in our relationship, what name we might pick is a long way down the list." I look at Holly and Karon. "What about you two? I don't know how it works with lesbians."

Holly and Karon exchange an awkward glance, then Karon wobbles her head from side to side.

"There isn't a rule. I guess… People just do what works for them, I think… Just keep our own names..?"

Holly nods. "I think… Yeah? I wouldn't-" She turns to face Karon. "-mind if it mattered to you, but.. I'd… Find it weird? Changing my name?" Holly looks at me. "So what happens if you get your name back?"

"Then Jade and I would have to have an actual conversation about it. But since my family is still back on Earth Prime… That connection is much less important."

And I'm not really all that fond-.

I catch myself before my face hits the bowl. Karon looks concerned while Holly lets out a surprised snort of laughter. "You been running too hard?"

"And now I'm going to stop talking about this, because thinking about my name makes me faint."

I start working my way through my bowl. It's… Eh. One of the problems with my ring enhancements is that it makes cooking well extremely easy. So restaurants just… Don't have that much appeal, let alone cafés like this. Oh, these things are sent to try us.

"Paul?" Karon pushes aside her cereal bowl. "Could you.. tell me something?"

"I can tell you many things. Can you be more precise?"

A minor eye-roll. "Have you ever checked out anyone in front of Jade and told her about it?"

Holly sags slightly. "Karon, I said I was sorry."

"No, I-. I don't want to be over-sensitive about this? I know you're more open about.. physical attraction than I am, and… I don't want to be a bitch about it."

"You're not, it's-."

I nod. "Yes."

"Oh." Karon frowns while Holly looks mildly curious. "Who?"

I nod at Paula. "I mean, it's nice to know that I'll still find Jade attractive when she's fifty, but she's told me-"

Karon's eyes widen and Holly tries to find the breath to giggle. Paula shakes her head while Artemis cringes.

"-that it makes her uncomfortable if I keep doing it, so aside from the occasional joke I've stopped. Actually, Paula, now that you're a free woman-."

"You are dating my daughter."

"Not me, but have you thought about dating again?"

Paula blinks in what I'm reasonably sure is affected surprise. "What makes you think I'm not dating now?"

I smile as Artemis cringes further.

"Who's the lucky person?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
11:48 GMT -6

I hold out my left hand.

"Ring, come."

"By this ring, my honour upheld
By this ring, my wrongs repaid
By this ring, my slights revenged
By this ring, I fight and live!"

Lantern Xor's environmental shield shimmers as he unclenches his left fist and regards the unmoving ring on his ring finger.

"By George, I think you've got it."

He looks at me, then at the ring, then at me, his breathing becoming more rapid and… I think he's smiling. … Sort of. He clenches his fists again, construct gauntlets forming around them and then dissipating as he unclenches.

"That is it? You can no longer remove my ring?"

"Not easily. Oh, and congratulations. Lantern Ragnar still can't reliably perform this technique."

Lanter Xor stops 'smiling'. "Do not make this easy for me. Every wound taken in training is one not taken in the field. I need to learn."

I hold up my hands. "You are able to resist this technique. That does not mean that I cannot use other techniques, or that your exotic defences are proof against being undermined in other ways. Gaining proficiency with a rifle does not mean that you have also mastered artillery."

He nods, calming himself.

"I understand, Illustres. What is next?"

I shrug.

"There are any number of things we could practise. What do you want to learn? How do you want to apply these skills?"

"I will apply them in accordance with my oath. I have accepted your ring and I follow your orders. I have held my temper when I dealt with this world's inquisitors and public informers. As such, my honour is upheld. The harm I inflicted on civilians and their property when I first arrived, I have undone as much as I can and performed service in lieu when I could not."

And wasn't that fun to try and explain to people. Three weeks of a giant orange and grey alien carrying a seventy year old grandfather's shopping and mowing his lawn as repayment for causing him to fall over in shock and break his right hip.

"As such, my wrongs are repaid. All that is left is my slights. The wrongs committed against me."

"Are any of those against locals?"

"Soldiers fight who they are told to fight. I owe those I injured or slew no debt, but nor do I bear them malice. Their commander has been publically shamed."

Bit of a stretch, but General Hardcastle was strongly criticised by the White House and strong-armed into resigning his commission. And if Xor is happy with that then I'm not going to try and convince him not to be.

"All those who remain who have slighted me are on my homeworld." For a moment he looks a little lost. "So it is there that I must return."

"You don't sound particularly eager."

"I was raised high in the service of a man named Jaggar Ton. For years I served him loyally as his bodyguard. I was happy with a life of honourable service, but when I grew inconvenient he had me convicted of a murder I did not commit. I do not… Understand such dishonour. Thinking about that place causes my liver great pain. Yet… What else can I do? I will never be whole if there is not a full accounting."

And the thing is, he's right. He won't be. His oath is spot on: these drives are so fundamental to him that he can't turn from them.

"How do you mean 'inconvenient'? I would have thought that a bodyguard of your strength would be invaluable."

"His daughter and I became involved."

Ah. I nod.

"Seems a bit extreme. He could just have fired you."

"'A bit extreme?'." Xor stares at me. "He had his own wife killed so that there was a victim."

I blink. "What?"

"Yes. It still bewilders me. When I was in his service I knew that he could be… Cunning. Deceitful. But I had never seen him act in such an… Evil way."

"Ah-h?"

Okay… Yes… There are human societies where the murder of a spouse for certain types of behaviour has a disturbing degree of acceptance even today. But to do that to give yourself an excuse to fire your bodyguard..?

"Are you sure he did it?"

Xor's face freezes. "What?"

"I accept that you didn't do it, but… Are you certain that he had her killed?"

"Yes."

"Did you..? See any sort of violence in their relationship before that?"

"Not between them. That is why I find it so shocking."

"Was..? Mister Ton a soldier himself?"

"No."

"Had he been..? Attempting to arrange a political marriage for his daughter?"

"Not where I could hear it. And Onigar made no mention of it when we were together."

"Does Alignment society have a formal caste system?"

"No."

"I'm… Sorry, Lantern Xor, but I'm not clear why you think he killed her. There were easier ways to get rid of you, and he'd risk being found out."

"Then who did?"

"I don't know. A business rival? Some… Random mugger? You said you got the job as his bodyguard for saving his life, so clearly assassinations happen."

"Then why blame me?! At his order, I would have slaughtered anyone who dared attack his family. And I liked her."

"He might genuinely believe that you did it. He might have been being blackmailed or threatened by whoever did it. Xalitan, have you really learned so little from your exposure to Earth's justice system?"

He just glowers.

"What would you do, if he was in front of you… Right now?"

"I would want to kill him for his lies, for what he has done to me. But…" His closes his eyes for a moment, his breathing slowing. "If he were… Truly ignorant. That would not be right." He opens his eyes. "Before I kill him, I must know. I must know why he did it, what he believed."

I nod.

"Good. I'm impressed with the control you showed there. New orders, Lantern Xor. Return to your prison transport and make it ready for a journey back to Alignment space. We'll return there together and get you some answers."

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
14:01 GMT -6

"Good afternoon, children!"

Lynne just blinks while my namesake smiles and waves. Lynne's friend.. Rock? Looks perturbed, while the rest of the class suddenly seems a good deal more excited about their Social Science lesson.

"Class." Understandably, most of the class don't look at their teacher. "This is Mister Grayven. Given the particular role he played in the events we're going to be covering, I thought you might like it if he gave the introductory lecture."

I nod. "It should provide you with a fascinating lesson on using biased sources." I smile at the man. "Thank you for inviting me, Mister Carls."

He nods, then steps back and takes a seat at the edge of the room.

"The subject of today's lecture-" I clap my hands together. "-is the British General Election. As I hope you know, there was a bit of an incident last year which resulted in virtually the entire British legislature being put in prison. What was left was barely enough to function, but they had to wait until things calmed down a bit before they could hold the election necessary to replace any of them."

"But let's start with the basics."

Ring, holographic display.

By your command.

"Britain is a constitutional monarchy. This means that it has a hereditary head of state, but that the powers of the ruler are constrained by law. The present monarch is Queen Elizabeth the Second, and she's been in the job since nineteen fifty two."

The holoprojector cycles through a variety of historical images of her, each adapted into three dimensions from various pieces of old footage.

"But whatever the technicalities, the queen doesn't actually run the country. That's done by the head of the government. Hands up everyone who knows who the present head of the British government is?"

Lynne's hand goes up at once, and the rest of the class appear willing to let her answer it.

"Yes Lynne, I know you know. Anyone else?"

Rock's hand rises and a few others tentatively follow up.

I point him out. "Rock?"

"Jasmine Abbott."

"Correct, well done." I replace the images of Queen Elizabeth with one of Mrs Abbott. "Someone else, how many female Prime Ministers Britain has had?" A girl at the back of the class raises her hand. "Yes?"

"Three."

"Well done. Now, the head of the British government is not directly elected. Rather, they're the leader of the political party which commands a majority in the House of Commons. Anyone know what that means?"

A few hands, and I pick a boy at random.

"They have to have more people in the… The House of Commons, than any other party?"

"That's usually how it works out, but strictly speaking no. A 'majority' means getting more people to vote for it than vote against it. In the British House of Commons, there is usually one party which has an absolute majority; that is to say, more than half of the total number of Members of Parliament are from one party. In that case their leader will be selected by the monarch as the head of the government. In the American context, that's a bit like the President being the leader of the party with a majority in the House of Representatives."

"But if no one party has an absolute majority, things get a bit awkward. Unlike in America -where there are essentially only two parties in top tier politics-. All together, who are they?"

"Republicans and Democrats." / "Democrats and.. Republicans."

"Good show. Unlike that, Britain has a number of other parties who can reliably get people elected to the House of Commons. If one party nearly has a majority, they have to try to make a deal with one of them for their support. And that's important, because until very recently if a government couldn't pass a major piece of legislation that immediately triggered a new General Election. Try imagining having a new election in America every time the party of the President lost a vote."

"That sort of government is called a 'coalition government'. The third type of government that can arise in Britain is a 'grand coalition'. That's when the country is faced with such a major crisis -like a World War- that everyone agrees that there's no way to do anything but manage that crisis, so everyone throws in together. Those don't happen at other times because the people involved will have such radically divergent political ideologies that they can't work on the same things."

"Last year, a few friends and I managed to make one happen anyway when so many MPs were arrested that there were barely enough MPs left to do all the jobs they need to do." I pause. "Ah, I forgot to mention: in Britain, the cabinet is comprised of members of the House of Commons and the House of Lords, who are also expected to do their day jobs at the same time. That's like if the President had to nominate his cabinet from amongst the Senators and Congressional Representatives, couldn't pick anyone else and they had to carry on representing their states in the House and the Senate while doing their new jobs."

That gets a few confused expressions.

"The original plan was to have an election within two months. But it turned out that that wasn't practical." A majority of the remaining MPs wanted a chance to get their parties in order first, not realising or.. not appreciating that it would be a wasted effort. "So they're doing it this month, instead." Which means that there's a chance that there might be a majority of independents, rather than the Reform majority I wanted. Ah well. I can't see anyone but Geoffrey being able to command anything like a majority.

"In a British General Election-" The hologram changes to a map of Britain with the constituency boundaries on display. "-each constituency elects an MP through simple majority voting. What does that mean?"

A few more hands. I point to a girl at the front.

"The one with the most votes wins."

"Correct. The winner in each constituency becomes the Member of Parliament for that constituency immediately. Unlike in the United States, where the President Elect has a few months to get up to speed before taking over and only a portion of Representatives are up for election each time, everything is up for grabs. In theory, every single MP could be new to the job. What alternatives are there to simple majority votes?"

Hands go up and I pick one.

"Electoral colleges?"

"Correct. In an electoral college, votes from voters decide who gets votes from the college. This system is used for Presidential Elections in the United States. For homework, I'm going to have you work out what fraction of an electoral college vote an actual vote from a voter is worth in each US state." A few students frown as they try to parse that instruction. "What other alternatives?"

Nothing for a moment, then Rock raises his hand. I nod.

"Single transferable vote."

I nod. "A remarkably sensible system with a marked resemblance to the Tower of Hanoi puzzle. In a single transferable vote system-" The hologram shifts to show five columns of differing height. "-people vote for candidates in their order of preference. Once all of the first choice votes are tallied, the candidate with least is eliminated and their votes distributed to their second choice candidates."

The smallest column vanishes from the display, and the other four grow to differing degrees.

"And so on until one candidate has over half of the popular vote." Another column vanishes and another column grows significantly. "The French use something similar to elect their president: a two-round system where the winner and runner up of the first round compete against each other in the second, allowing people to shift their support from a candidate they actually like to one they could best tolerate."

"So, trick question: who elects the Prime Minister?"

Nothing for a few moments, then a hand is tentatively raised on the left.

"The party with the most Members of Parliament?"

"Ah, but remember: the cabinet have to be either Members of Parliament or Members of the House of Lords."

The hand-raiser realises that everyone is looking at him to work it out.

"So their constituency..? Unless they're a Lord? And their party?"

"And if there's no majority?"

"Ah… Other parties as well?"

"Yes, well done, I'll give you a gold star later. Now, who can name a British political party?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
13:09 GMT -5

"…with Xor, and it could take a week or two."

Kaldur nods. "I hope that he is able to find the answers that he seeks."

I shrug. "Neither of us are exactly expert investigators, but Alignment worlds are a bit less crazy than Earth, and I.. doubt that they're Lantern-proof. Whether we can find the truth or not, it should be a quick investigation. What comes after…"

"Do you require additional assistance?"

"Require, no, but Guy's agreed to come along to liaise with their government and the local Green Lanterns."

"In that case, I will-."

Blinding white light fills the living area!

"Be not afr-!"

My construct fist wraps around the.. angel's? Body and slams it against the floor, while Kaldur leaps to his feet with his water bearers in hand!

Zauriel tilts his head upward from his prone position. "I am sorry if I have offended you-."

I let my construct dissipate, though Kaldur keeps his water bearers raised. "This is a secure Justice League facility. Quite aside from the fact that your uninvited arrival is impolite, the mountain has automated defences which are programmed to attack any intruder."

Zauriel climbs to his feet. He looks… The wings are still there, but he looks… Less ethereal than he used to. Less a being of incarnate magic and more a being of flesh who uses magic. "I beg your pardon, and thank you for your guidance. I will make note not to repeat my action."

Ugh, the one angel who gets that.

"Why are you here?"

"I have taken… The one who was formerly Noriel and Linda Danvers both into my care. I hope that I will be able to provide her with the support and guidance which she requires."

I nod. "I'm sure that she appreciates it."

Zauriel nods. "Yes, she does. But she also wants to make-. Not.. make amends, precisely, but… Purge herself, of the evils which the Linda Danvers part of herself committed."

"How about the evils which the Noriel part of her committed?"

He bows his head slightly. "Am I to understand then that you are not at peace with the agents of the Silver City?"

"Define 'at peace'. I'm.. content with the settlement we reached, but that doesn't mean that I like your people or the system you operate under."

"Should I take it that you would be uncomfortable with working with me in the future?"

Kaldur and I glance at one another.

"I would have concerns. While you can make your own moral judgements now, I'm a little worried that you might default to prior instructions rather than thinking things through for yourself."

Zauriel smiles sadly.

"I was restored to life and sent to the Earth to test whether or not I was capable of exercising good moral judgement without external instruction. I would like to know what I can do to convince you that we angels are not so malevolent as you believe us to be."

"Years of interaction, during which I come to understand why you make the choices which you do."

"If you are prepared to spend enough time with me, I will endeavour to grant you that understanding."

"Yeah…" I sigh. "Are you limited to the Earth?"

He shakes his head. "No."

"Then…" It's the only way they're going to learn. For the good of the material universe the angels need to learn to make their own decisions. "Alright, on one condition."

"Name it."

"Two of the people I've been working with in Belle Reve, Thomas and Tuppence Beresford. I think they're as close to being rehabilitated as I can get them within a prison environment."

"A beatitude upon you for your charitable work."

"Um. Thank.. you. What I want is for you to help their mother. She's an alcoholic mess, but apparently she still makes it into church each week so I'm hopeful that she'll be more receptive to you than to Alcoholics Anonymous or her parish priest."

Zauriel nods. "I would be happy to do that. I will admit that I was a little concerned with what you would ask of me."

"If you were any other angel I might have come up with something… Else. But you heard me out and you tried to warn me when the rest of the Chorus went crazy. I don't blame you for their actions, I'm just… Cautious."

"I understand, and thank you for your forbearance." He looks around. "How should I leave?"

Kaldur steps forward. "I will show you to the door. Please follow me."

I nod to him as I raise my right hand to my forehead. "See you when I get back."

The mountain disappears and is replaced by near-Earth space. Guy's staring down at Europe and doesn't bother looking around as I approach.

"Ready?"

"If I asked you who th' first human Green Lantern was, what would you say?"

I doubt he's talking about Jordan-. From.. the.. comics… There was that guy in China… I think I remember reading that Sur lent someone a ring in the Old West… And then there's Lord Malvolio, whatever the heck he was supposed to be.

"Someone before Jordan?"

He turns his head my way. "You blowin' smoke up my ass?"

No, I… Shouldn't dick Guy around. And if someone as powerful as Malvolio was supposed to be is making waves, he'll need my support.

"Are you talking about Malvolio?"

"Hnh." He turns back to his Earth-gazing. "Yeah. Turns out the Guardians weren't bein' all that honest 'bout why they put Al on the 'Do Not Recruit' list. Some asshole got hold of a ring back in the seventeenth century. Did a whole lotta stuff us humanoids aren't supposed to be able to. When Hal told 'em about Al they were… Concerned, about maybe gettin' a repeat performance."

"Why did they tell you?"

"Guess they figure they can trust me. They wanna see if I can do the stuff he did, so's they shared their old records."

"And Jordan?"

"Nah, they just gave him a rookie t' train. Maybe they think I'm the smart one?" He smiles. "Alright, let's go see how far Xor's got fixin' his ship."

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
08:27 GMT

Guy looks down at the former Alignment prison ship. "Huh. Quick work."

Large parts of the superstructure which were torn asunder by the crash landing have been shoved back into place and sealed. Though… Most of the section containing the FTL drive was fried by exotic radiation. He's-.

I glance upwards for a moment.

He's cut and shut the relevant parts of the ship Martin attacked. Far safer with a power ring performing molecular bonding, and externally the only obvious change is how much shorter the ship is. Eliminating cargo storage and internment quarters it no longer needs would easily enable that.

"He work in a shipyard or somethin'?"

"No, but his self-awareness has improved a great deal since we first met. He knows that he needs this to fulfil his needs, so he can more easily work on it."

"Thing I don't get?"

"Yeah?"

"What's he need a spaceship for?"

"We're not exactly expecting a friendly reception, given that he received a 'transportation for life' sentence for murder. Staying on an Alignment planet seems like a bad idea, and while the two of us could fight their entire navy, that would result in a great many deaths and destabilise the region."

"So it's a flyin' hotel?"

"It's an FTL-capable stealth flying hotel." I frown and tap my ring. "Lantern Xor, have you created a stealth system?"

"Sensor-masking and active cooling."

"Oh, I think I can do a little better than that. Guy, you want to help out?"

Guy holds up his right hand. "See this ring?"

"Yes?"

"What color is it, smart guy?"

I shrug and fly down towards the bow of the ship, ring filtering the rocky ground beneath the surrounding ice for the elements I need. "Pretty sure Malvolio could fix up a ship."

"How'd you even know about him, anyhow? No way you got that off'f John's ring."

"You think the Controllers didn't do a full background check on me after I flew into their capital on the Ophidian? Particularly given that the split with the Guardians happened before humans were really a thing."

Hm. What form of stealth system to use? Holograms and a spatial distortion nullifier would be best for a ship that would have to sneak around an enemy, but our main combat power comes from our rings. A subspace displacement generator would probably be best. Not undetectable, but…

"Have you-?" / "That's not an answer."

"Hm?"

Won't be too hard to place the generators on the hull without compromising the other systems.

"What, you think I don't know what deflection sounds like? Or that you told me you get around Wondy's lie detector by not straight-up lyin'."

"Guy? Have you been paying attention?"

"Yeah, they didn't let me int' the Honor Guard for my pretty face." He folds his arms across his chest. "So how'd you know?"

"Adom mentioned that one of his old-."

"Pretty sure Whaler wasn't a Lantern."

"But how do you know? The Guardians have lost control of Lanterns before."

"Look, if you're not gunna tell me then just tell me you're not gunna tell me."

I only bothered reading up on Malvolio after I read an opinion piece which claimed that he would have made a better explanation for the 'Parallax' incident than either the explanation at the time (he was just really angry) or the eventual explanation (that he was possessed). Jordan was wearing Malvolio's ring after all, and the removal of the Guardians would have been to Malvolio's advantage. But… What he could actually do? Don't.. really remember.

"Alright. I'm not going to tell you."

Orange lights flicker out, forming the raw materials into the first ring of generators.

"Was that so hard?"

"All I got is a name, and a claim that he murdered his predecessor."

"Yeah, that's what the Guardians told me."

"Is that possible?"

"You'd have thought not." He shrugs. "But it worked for Chummuck so I guess not. But Chummuck got called to Oa, same as everyone else. Malvolio didn't."

I move further down the ship and repeat the process. "How'd he manage that?"

"Dunno. Magic? He coulda overridden the recall with willpower, but only if he didn't ever sleep."

"Did they remotely wipe the ring like they did with Yalan Gur?"

"Tried. Didn't seem to slow him down much."

"Much as I'd like to be the font of all knowledge, the only other thing I know about him is that he looked like Alan."

"He-?" Guy frowns. "Kinda. I mean, his clothes look kinda like Al's old uniform." He squints at me. "Sure there's nothing else you remember?"

"Nothing of any significance. I'll let you know if anything jogs my memory. Xor, how are the internals?"

"Near completion. We will need to pull the ship into orbit."

"Think we can manage that. I've nearly got the hiding system done. Guy, who are the local Green Lanterns? We should probably call ahead."

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
11:43 GMT

"Megatron."

"Megatron."

Best Starscream voice. "That's all I ever hear! After today no one will need to use that name again!"

Guy squints. "Huh?"

"When I was little, I had a cassette with a Transformers story on it. At one point Starscream throws a classic hissy fit and shouts 'Megatron! Megatron! That's all I ever hear…"

Guy leans back, shrugging. "I didn't really watch th' show."

"So… Do you actually know who Megatron is?"

From the pilot's seat, Xor grunts. "No."

Guy looks mildly offended. "Sure I know who Megatron is, but that's 'cause of… Cultural osmosis, or whatever. How tha Hell is Megatron your inspiration?"

"As well as that cassette, I had a tape with two episodes of the animated series on it. The first one was set after the film, with Starscream's ghost collecting city transformer eyes for Unicron-"

Guy shrugs and shakes his head. Damn casual.

"-the planet eater… Never mind. The second episode has the Decepticons build a machine which lets them share their special abilities with Megatron. He then challenges Optimus Prime to a fight and kicks his arse. And it might sound silly now, but when I was little that was a big shock. The hero of the story flat out losing because the villain was better prepared."

At the pilot's station, Xor's ring starts glowing. Why-? Ah, he's asking it to explain Transformers to him. Good luck with that.

"So you grab all the powers you can, because that way you can beat up Optimus Prime."

I lean back in my chair. "I was at an impressionable age. It made a big impact. Oh, and the other part of the story had the Constructicons digging into the Autobots' fortified mountain base while they were all out watching the fight, so the whole thing is double relevant to me."

Guy thinks about that for a moment. "Kinda… Kinda think I took the hard road as far as childhood motives goes."

"I…" Urghhh… "I can't.. joke about that."

Guy turns to look straight in front of us, at the main view screen. "Sure you can. I've got the piss-tasting beer to remind me he's gone, haven't I?"

"Fine: I got productive kleptomania out of my childhood trauma and all you got was a lousy haircut."

"See? Not so hard." He shifts in his seat. "'course, if I'd had VHS tapes I liked watchin', pa woulda smashed them up." He shrugs. "Maybe burned them while I watched."

"A…" … "A…"

Guy turns his eyes my way and the git starts smiling.

Xor looks around. "Giant robots? You are talking about giant robots?"

Guy holds up his right hand and generates a passable Generation 1 Megatron construct.

"No. Made up giant robots. If they'd been real giant robots this would be a sensible thing ta talk about."

Xor stares blankly at me. "You are motivated by your desire to beat a fictional giant robot you remember from your childhood?"

"No, it's the principle. A comedically evil character wins because he's studied his enemy and built up his own power. In the core of my nature is an abhorrence of that."

"Evil don't get to win when Orange is around."

"I-."

"Which makes me kinda curious about what happened yesterday."

"I thought my report was fairly thorough. I don't really like what happened, but it was the best I could come up with in the time I was prepared to spend there."

He dismisses his construct. "Givin' Megatron a do-over?"

"There was a story where Shockwave managed to unify Cybertron under his leadership after millions of years of war by creating and controlling a reliable fuel supply. Look, you've seen enough of the really evil civilisations which exist in the universe to know that a criminal network on Earth isn't actually that bad in the general scheme of things. Heck, I made a deal with the Spider Guild last year. They eat people."

He jerks his head in my direction. "They still eatin' people?"

"They didn't specifically promise to stop…" … "I'll visit Vega once we're finished here."

Guy frowns at me. "Yeah, you do that. And how come we've got another Star Sapphire?"

"Guy, now that you're in a long term relationship with Tora, are you happier or less happy than you were before?"

"Hal was happier when he was with our Carol. Love's… Great. That ain't the point. Our Carol was a rookie. You gave a crystal we know makes people crazy to a goddamn vet."

"A veteran who's used the violet light without going crazy for years, yes. That's like comparing me to Larfleeze." I lean towards him. "Look, the way I see it, it was only a matter of time before the Zamarons make a nuisance of themselves. But Maltusian society prizes the ability to exert influence. If she flies up to them with a template for, A, letting mortals use the violet light without going crazy and, B, making a Corps of their own, I strongly suspect that they'll go for it."

"And if they don't?"

"Then they've got-"

"We are arriving."

"-one extra Lantern."

Normal space reappears, an unimportant system outside the nominal borders of Alignment space. And in the distance I feel our contact, Lantern Canar.

Guy pulls himself out of his chair.

"Alright then. Let the shit storm commence."

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
11:51 GMT

Stars are flashing past us, but we're actually moving relatively slowly. And as is Green Lantern custom when in the territory of non-hostile governments capable of tracking Lantern movements, we're letting them. Which involves us moving far slower than we could if we made an effort. A sign that we respect their territorial claims, and an encouragement to them to cooperate with our investigation.

"This will be immensely politically difficult."

The upper half of Lantern Canar's body might be humanoid, but… The plant-meat symbiosis in his body is so thorough that he has none of the body language which usually comes with that. Honestly, I can barely credit that the E'Fal are a naturally occurring species. I'm struggling to think of a way for that sort of hybridisation to arise naturally. Half his total mass is technically another creature, including several vital organs.

"Prisoners who receive transportation sentences are never allowed to return to Alignment core worlds."

No expression, no change in intonation. Might be something to do with his species living deep underwater. They wouldn't usually be able to see details on one another's faces. And the water would affect the sound… Atlanteans use intonation, but they all started as a surface-dwelling species.

Xor growls. "Why should I care about their rules?"

"I am aware of the failings of the Alignment legal system. But if you wish to perform an investigation, you should understand the environment in which you will be operating."

"Fine. Talk."

"Once the prisoner has been sent, there are no further avenues of appeal. Nor will an exception be made for an escapee."

"I did not escape. The crew fled."

"Technically, the law required you to remain where you were until a member of the crew arrived to remove you. I am aware that doing so would have been impractical, but I caution you not to expect any Alignment official you speak with to care."

"Do they know that the ship had an accident?"

"I reported the location of the ship when Lantern Stewart notified me. It is listed as 'wrecked', but neither crew nor prisoners have so far been recovered. Based on the final location of the ship it is quite likely that any survivors would have ended up well outside of Alignment space."

Guy looks at Xor. "Don't suppose you ever went looking for them?"

"Briefly. I tried to detect the beacons of the escape pods with my ring. I could not find them. But it is possible that mine was the only pod to survive launch. Or the others may have deactivated their beacons to avoid detection."

Ah yes, that wrinkle. Alignment FTL is fast, but when it goes wrong it goes violently wrong. Their escape pods are designed to in theory be able to survive a crash-transition back to normal space, but they're only really tested in… Well, test conditions, being dumped off fully functional ships. They're sensible enough to take data from crash survivors, but… That was why Xor's story about the crew abandoning ship as fast as they could rings true. Getting off as things start to go wrong is dangerous, but staying on board would have been suicide. I wouldn't be surprised if Xor's augmentations were the only reason why the radiation didn't kill him.

"And… You know, space is big. Really big."

Guy shrugs. "You couldn't find them, you couldn't find them. Just hate the idea of them stuck in a little pod and starvin' t' death."

"Pods have animation suspension systems. Anyone who survived the escape would be able to survive for a long time." Xor looks away for a moment. "The crew were in the government's employ. Not looking for them is dishonourable. But it does not surprise me."

"If they're not looking for the crew, can I assume that they're not looking for the prisoners either?"

Space jiggles as we switch from interstellar-appropriate speed down to something that would be considered non-hostile in a settled system.

"Their details are still on file, but none of them are famous enough to have gained widespread notoriety."

"Do they have surveillance systems that would automatically recognise Lantern Xor?"

"Not in most place-."

Xor bristles. "Why would I hide myself?"

"What were you planning on doing?"

"Confronting my accuser directly!"

"Lantern Xor, do you really think that's the best way to get the information-."

"Finding out who murdered Onisia will not restore her to life. Finding out why my employer betrayed me is what I want from this, and I can get that information easily from him."

"But if you did find out who really did it… If you had proof of that when you confronted him, how do you think he would react to that?"

"I still believe that he knows that I am innocent. But-."

"But..?"

"If it is as you suggested, then… Surprise? Gratitude? If he even listens before calling for a militia unit."

"Will it be easier or harder to investigate if we are having to fight-?"

"If we do not have to fight the militia it will be easier. I do know that. I am a soldier."

"Do you have any friends or family on the surface who might be able to provide you with information?"

"No family. Friends… Perhaps. Other War Hounds."

"You are a War Hound?"

"Yes. I completed my term of service and was honourably discharged."

"You are unusually fortunate."

Guy glances from one to the other. "Wanna fill a guy in?"

Canar's tail-fronds wiggle. "The Alignment takes the brains of orphaned children and places them in augmented bodies. They have found that adult brains cannot adapt to the change that comes from moving from an unaugmented body to one such as Lantern Xor now occupies. But there are other problems. Few survive long enough to muster out, and fewer still adapt to the social change. You were wise not to ask for a normal body."

Oh… Eris.

"I… Just thought that your species matured faster than humans."

"I did. The alternative was death. Most of the Alignment's soldiers are not augmented as I am. But… The militia officer who arrested me. He apologised."

"Yeah?"

"An officer would know how we are raised, how we are taught to think. He would need that in case he was called upon to command us. He would know that one of us would not commit a murder. He may have other information."

"But he would recognise you."

"Yes."

"Canar, take us to your government contact so we can formally introduce ourselves. After that, we'll split up and Guy and I will have a chat with that officer while you and Xor go through their databases."

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
13:22 GMT

"Lanterns." Sub Sector Unifier Creduk Vin turns to face us as we enter his office and brings his fists together at his chest. A novel gesture but the basic idea repeats itself in many humanoid civilisations: my hands are in a place which would make it difficult for me to use a weapon and I'm doing it first to acknowledge that my position is inferior. "What can I do for you?"

The city of Johhonnta has a paramilitary police force. It strikes me as odd. Even in Metropolis -a city which has to occasionally cope with Superman-tier criminals- the Special Crimes Unit are far more heavily armed than a normal SWAT unit but regular police are equipped in the same way as regular police in other cities. And that still-. Well, used to strike me as odd when contrasted with the British police's lack of guns. But here it's like something out of Judge Dredd. Smart rail rifles, plasma blasters and solid all-enveloping armour, including a helmet which covers most of the wearer's face.

Vin is wearing a purple dress uniform with red trim, but even that has armoured inserts. It doesn't.. make sense to me. There are good reasons why civil law enforcement officers don't dress like that outside war zones. Are they facing constant civil insurrection? Did they just finish a major war and need to put their soldiers somewhere until they demob? No, nothing about a major war on the records Canar sent me…

I make the fist gesture back, while Guy just folds his arms across his chest. Which a local man will probably interpret in the same way.

"One moment."

Orange light strobes out from me, deactivating the devices monitoring the interior of the office and setting up holographic screens at the windows. Windows which are armoured, I notice. Since our presence here is official I'm not trying to deceive anyone looking in with a false image, so the holograms simply show closed blinds. Next, I take a rune stone out and wave it around. As expected there's no glow, but it doesn't hurt to be sure. Lastly I take out three anti-eavesdropping pendants, pass one to Guy, put one on myself and offer Vin the last.

He takes it cautiously. "What is it?"

"A tool to prevent anyone overhearing this conversation. If you wouldn't mind putting it on?"

"I've been ordered to cooperate with you, but I'm loyal to the Alignment. Bear that in mind."

He slips the thong over his head and lets it fall to lay against his chest.

"I'd like to talk to you about the Alignment's practice of using child soldiers."

He frowns, his eyes moving to Guy. "The Green Lantern Corps ruled that the practice wasn't objectionable."

"No, th' Green Lantern Corps ruled it wasn't slavery. Ain't th' same thing." Guy lets his environmental shield glow a little brighter. Not combat-brightness, but with the lights in the office dimmed by the blinds it's quite noticeable. "If it'd been slavery, the local Green Lanterns woulda put a stop to it already. I'm here 'cause doin' somethin' about it needs someone a bit higher up t' make a decision."

"You're an.. officer."

"Honor Guard Lantern Guy Gardner."

"And I'm the Illustres of the Orange Lantern Corps."

I bring my formal robes out of subspace and drape them over my light armour.

"Well-. I.. see why some people might find it objectionable, but why are you talking to me? I have no authority over the practice."

"Pickin' names out of a hat." Guy shrugs. "Wanna find out what a regular Joe thinks of it."

"It… Beats the way we used to handle unowned orphans."

"Oh yeah? What was that then?"

"Medical euthanasia."

Guy's environmental shield grows a little brighter still.

"Yes, I suppose that it does beat that."

"They learn fast, and they are given bodies far stronger than our best powered armour. Ten years of service and they are free citizens. It's not… Nice, perhaps, but it works. They do useful work no one else can and they aren't mist-."

I raise my right hand. "I'm.. going to stop you right there. Your society and mine have very different ideas of what child mistreatment looks like. But… Okay. How the heck do you turn a brain that young into a functioning soldier?"

"I'm.. not an expert on the technology-."

"I'm really more interested in what the average Alignment citizen believes about it."

"It's.. something to do with how they educate them. The programming they give them grants them knowledge and… Loyalty. It makes them honourable. Then… I assume that they do something to induce synaptic pruning… It's perfectly functional. They don't behave like normal children. That would be dangerous."

"Do that t' any regular kids?"

"I think.. it.. used to be used like that. It… Fell out of fashion."

"Okay, so: inexperienced but functionally adult. Plenty of species have fast maturation cycles. How are they treated once they complete their term of service?"

"The same as any other soldier leaving the military. Their training makes them unusually honest and trustworthy. Everyone knows that."

"I suppose if you can do anything to someone's brain, there isn't much point leaving them room to disobey."

"No, it isn't like that. Trying to turn them into bio-robots doesn't work. The machines implant a strong code of honour which includes lionising loyalty to their superiors but they can disobey."

"Loyalty?"

"That's what our government gets out of it. Soldiers who can't-. Well, maybe not can't, but would be very difficult to bribe or suborn."

"If that's true, what happened to Xalitan Xor?"

The response is immediate. The tensing of his muscles, the saccades of his eyes and the changing of his breathing pattern. He clamps down as hard as he can -a giveaway in its own right- but he was stressed.

"That… I wasn't the investigating officer. I was simply called in to apprehend him. His case-"

"Is one which particularly concerns me. You told me that they're programmed to respect authority and be honourable, and he went and murdered his employer's wife."

"That… Was extremely uncharacteristic. If.. I hadn't read the judgement myself…"

I barely need to look inside him at this point. Fear, vague and formless, of sticking his head above the parapet. No face. So an order would go out and he'd wake up dead. I wonder if he's carried out that sort of order before himself? But that doesn't prove a particular conspiracy around Xor, just that the government is a bit on the oppressive side.

"It surprised you to learn that one of the War Hounds would do that?"

"… Yes. It did. If you request the case files, I'm sure that will explain things."

"You didn't read them yourself?"

"I had no need to."

"Are you aware of any similar cases?"

"There are.. instances of violence. When their sense of honour conflicts with the law. That's not a problem while they're in the military, but when they're employed by civilians it can happen."

"And you assume that's what happened to Xor?"

"I haven't really thought about it. It… Would be logical."

I smile. "Then I suppose that we'd better get those files as well."

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
16:57 GMT

"None?"

Xor's face is fairly impassive, but there's an unhappy undercurrent that I've learned to recognise.

Guy nods slowly as he scrolls through another report. "Yeah. You guys die a lot in the… War Hounds, but plenty live long enough t' leave. Lotta them re-up or join the…" He blinks at a translation that doesn't quite work in English. "Hidden Guard?"

"I could have joined them. I chose not to."

"Right, so there ain't all that many goin' back t' regular life. Which figures, seein' as how they're child soldiers who don't know anything else-."

Xor glowers. "We do. We are-." He takes a moment to simmer down, and I feel a minor surge of pride. "We have contact with the crew of the ships we are assigned to. And the civilians who live on and around the military bases where we are stationed. We do have contact with other ways of life. We are not dumb robot drones."

"Wasn't what I meant, big guy. Human kids get general education, advice on all kinds a' careers. You've been surrounded by th' army since you were… How old were you?"

"I don't know. I thought I left the army when I was ten. But that was ten years of service, not ten years of age. I don't know how old I was when I became… Me."

"Guess they didn't think you needed t' know."

"I didn't. I remember nothing of it. I don't remember remembering anything of it. It doesn't matter. Tell me about the other War Hounds who left."

"They don't last. War Hounds who switch bodies…" He presses a button and a series of faces appear, along with the amount of time they survived. "Two years, tops. Some of this… Yeah, they could be accidents. Think they're still strong and tough as… You. Still a lot of accidents, though."

"Why would they kill citizens programmed to be loyal?"

"Dunno. Maybe they don't want people talkin' to 'em. Don't want people thinkin' a' their child soldiers as people."

I shake my head. "I doubt that's it. This isn't a government that's sensitive to public opinion."

"It isn't. And this… Why kill Onisia when they could just kill me? War Hounds are tough, but there are many weapons which can harm us."

"And why not just kill someone else? This Jaggar Ton guy looks like he's connected. And he's rich. This isn't a nobody who nobody's gunna ask questions about."

"I am a fall guy."

"We don't know that." Guy flicks through publically available information sources, looking for… Depictions of War Hounds. "Everyone in the Alignment knows you guys are super-reliable soldiers. And Ton's known you personally fer years. No way anyone who's thinkin' about this fer a few minutes is gunna believe it. So what's goin' on?"

"The Crime Syndicate cowed President Wilson into submission by killing his wife and threatening to kill his daughter."

"Someone leanin' on Ton?" Guy thinks for a moment. "Could be. Hey, Xor? Orange said you got hired after stopping Ton gettin' assassinated."

"Yes."

"They ever find out who sent 'em?"

"I don't know."

Guy nods. "Canar, you find anythin'?"

"I have been working with public and government sources. Are you authorising me to use clandestine means to acquire information?"

Guy frowns, puzzled. "Yeah? Why you wading though that bullshit?"

"The Alignment is a functioning civilisation which is neither engaging in open war with its neighbours nor engaging in slavery or mass murder. Lantern Corps laws require me to observe their laws. Unless I am given contrary orders by the Guardians or an Honour Guard Lantern."

"Sure, orders away."

"Understood." Lantern Canar's eyes glow green for a moment as he forces a bypass. "It will take a little time for me to find anything."

"I don't suppose that the attackers are still alive, are they?"

"Doubt it." I look at Guy. "Come on, that wasn't a government hit. Or if it was, it was some hired guns who didn't know who they were workin' for."

"Sir? I believe that I have discovered something relevant."

"Yeah?"

Canar holds out his right hand and generates a construct of a well-dressed local woman. Xor's eyes lock onto her immediately.

"This is Onigar Ton, the daughter of Lantern Xor's former employer. She has been cited for 'political disruption' relating to the War Hounds."

"What's that mean, exactly?"

"The charge is used as a warning to well-placed citizens that their actions are unacceptable, as a prelude to more aggressive action."

"She is in danger?"

Ring, access data stores.

Compliance.

"I'm not seeing any orders for her termination. Lantern Gardner, you told me that we were investigating Lantern Xor's conviction. Is that still the case, or do you intend for us to attempt to undo the Alignment's conscription system?"

"I'm thinkin' about it."

"I don't recommend it. In a state like this you'll struggle to find an internal reform mechanism that you can use as an outsider. That leaves force, and I don't think this is sufficiently bad to justify it." He shoots me a disgruntled look. "Though if you think otherwise I'll be happy to support you. Incidentally, I'm not seeing a kill order either, though that might just mean that kill orders are verbal only."

"If she has information which we lack, it may be advantageous to approach her rather than attempt to locate pertinent data amongst the planet's entire noosphere."

"True. Xor?"

"Has she spoken of her mother's murder?"

"Nothing specific on record."

"She will.. recognise me."

"Yes, but your ring's orange. What do you want?"

"I had thought… No. I will not hope. I will remain here. You, speak to her." He blinks as Canar removes the construct, then turns to face me. "My judges all condemned me. Either they are involved with whoever framed me, or they are idiots. Onigar may have learned something about Onisia's murder, but unless the murderer has confessed I doubt that anyone else has."

"You sure you don't want to come? I can give you a holographic disguise."

"No. My-. I am not certain how I would feel. It is best that I do not."

"Alright. Guy, shall we?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
17:09 GMT

"Hey."

Onigar Ton's head floats just above Guy's ring as we fly across one of the planet's oceans. There won't really be any way to disguise that we've spoken to her, but hopefully it should be possible to disguise that we're going to speak to her. Once we're there, we…

"A.. Green Lantern? What do you want?"

Well, we can protect her in the short term. And while we.. could evacuate her from the planet if the government decides that talking to us warrants her death I don't really want to mess up her life like that.

"I just recently heard how War Hounds get made. I wanna talk to somebody who cares about it. You got half an hour?"

"Y-e-. Yes. I do. Where do you want to meet?"

"We can be anywhere on the planet in about three seconds, so wherever's good for you. We could probably move you someplace else if that'd be safer."

"No. If a Green Lantern is involved then they have bigger problems than me. I'll meet you at my apartment-"

I raise my right forefinger to my head.

"-in eight minutes-"

The walls of her apartment are block-printed in blue and red, and there's a certain 50's science fiction feel to the design. Slightly larger than the human equivalent furnishings and objects would be, though I'm not sure if that's a style choice or an adaptation to the fact that a War Hound might visit. Xor didn't ever describe their living arrangements to me so I've got no idea whether or not Onigar was living with her parents when he was arrested. Not that I think they'd have hired a new ex-War Hound after what happened.

"-once I've had a chance to put some clothes…"

Onigar turns around, holocom unit in hand and a nightdress-.

"On."

I turn away.

"Sorry, sorry. Should have waited until you finished your sentence."

I hear Guy's snort.

"It would have been polite. You're not Green."

"No. The Orange Lantern Corps is a new organisation. Ah. Would you prefer it if I left for eight minutes?"

"I'm not prudish, I just wanted to seem professional. Lantern Gardner… Two minutes?"

"Sure thing."

I hear her set the holocom handset down, then head out of the room.

"What is your name, Orange Lantern?"

Ring.

"Illustres Paul."

"And what is an Illustres?"

"Most Green Lanterns patrol regions of space called Sectors. The Honour Guard are an elite force reserved for the toughest opponents. They are led by an Illustres. Above the Illustres is the Clarissi, who manages the Corps on a day to day basis."

"And the Orange Lantern Corps is the same?"

"We're a newer organisation. My position is equivalent, but it won't mean as much until we've actually got some Honour Guard level Lanterns for me to lead."

I hear a rustle of cloth, and turn towards the doorway she walked through.

"Would it be helpful if I swept the premises for monitoring devices?"

"No. As I said, there is no sense in murdering me. While my outspokenness has led to my censure, I'm simply not relevant enough to anger anyone capable of ordering an assassination."

She walks back in, wearing a Star Trek style suit in green and blue.

"So unless there is anything specific which you wish to say and do not wish to be overheard, there would be little point."

"Thank you for speaking to us, and again, I'm sorry for appearing like that."

"Mm. Teleportation?"

"Effectively. But I can't take passengers, which is why Lantern Gardner stayed where he is."

She nods. "What species are you?"

"Human." I generate a stellar map. "The Alignment is here-" I mark it. "-and my own dear homeworld is here."

"One world? And it produced two high-ranked Lanterns?"

"Three. And three other Lanterns. Currently in service." I frowns. "Sorry. Four other Lanterns."

"You have so many that you forgot one?"

"She's new. Sort-" There's a knock on the balcony's sliding door, Guy still smiling at my faux pas as I turn to face him. "-of."

Onigar waves at the door, which slides open to allow Guy access. Hm. This tower is tall, but those surrounding it aren't much shorter. Given how Lanterns glow I'm pretty sure that her near-neighbours will be talking about this. Which… Might create a situation in which the government's assassins -if such assassins truly exist- can't afford not to kill her in order to save face. But… She knows her government better than I do.

"Thanks. Sorry about Paul. He doesn't always think before he teleports."

"He has apologised for himself." She glances at me before returning her attention to Guy. "Would you like to take a seat?"

"Yeah, thanks." He steps forward. "Who ex-?"

His environmental shield ripples as a high velocity round strikes him on the shoulder.

"Huh?"

Guy looks towards the balcony-

Armour, construct armour, construct armour for her-

-as a volley of shots strike him in the chest.

-and a kinetic barrier-.

The ceiling gives way as-. Xor-? No, regular War Hounds, three of them, enter the apartment through it, plasma projectors… Stowed as they lunge at us bare-handed.

Guy generates a shield and launches himself off the balcony, heading for the snipers operating out of the building opposite. I send out a kinetic barrier, causing the closest War Hound to run straight into it and rebound. The second grunts in pain as I turn aside his punch with a crumbler gauntlet -no force field- and then shudders as I apply a brand. The third goes for his plasma projector, but a construct pincer grabs the fuel cell and pulls it free before it can build up a charge. He swings the butt of the gun at my head, the gun crumpling against my armour as my brand on his colleague completes. I try construct manacles, but he tears those apart easily so I opt for a brand again, my armour just about strong enough to hold him off until my sigil appears on his forehead.

I take a step back.

"Ms Ton, are you alright?"

"W-? Yes, but this makes no sense. Why-?"

"It looks like someone thinks you're worth killing after all."

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
17:14 GMT

"Yes Father, I'm fine."

Guy floats back in through the wrecked window, five locals in… High grade stealth armour, being dragged along after him on construct hooks. He deposits them on the apartment floor and generates construct bonds around them.

"Paul, you wanna..?"

I nod and start scanning, removing concealed weapons, integrated weapons and… Two suicide devices each, one of which would have caused serious physical damage to the user's brain. That's… Interesting. There are ways to extract information from a dead brain, but-. No, no, that's probably just a side effect.

"Two Lanterns were here to speak to m-. No-. Not about that. Just in general."

"Your guys say anythin' yet?"

I look over to where 'my guys' are sitting on the floor, patiently awaiting a drive to do anything. They don't wear armour, just the sort of reinforced cycle shorts that Xor does.

"I haven't asked them anything. I strongly suspect that what Ms Ton says will determine what we ask them."

He glances up. "Fixed the roof?"

"It occurs to me that it might be advantageous not to hand this over to the local authorities. These people look like 'suicide' risks to me."

"Well yeah, if they're suicide risks it'd be irresponsible t' hand 'em over."

I nod and use my ring to repair the balcony area.

"I know. I love you too, Father." Onigar puts the holocom down. Then she sighs. "Did any of them die?"

"Nah."

"That's… Unfortunate."

Guy frowns. "How come?"

"Because it's easier to disappear a body than a living person, particularly as Green Lanterns aren't supposed to kill their suspects."

Onigar nods. "It may be easiest to simply let them go."

"After.. questioning them."

"They won't say anything we could believe."

Guy shakes his head. "Paul's got ways of making people talk."

"Even if you tortured them, you have no way to confirm what they tell you."

"Not torture. I can alter a person's motives. Make them want to tell us things. And then change them back afterwards." Hm. She did strongly imply that she thought this apartment was bugged. I walk over to the oldest of Guy's apprehendees and kneel down in front of her. "You see… Sometimes, without doing anything particularly wrong in terms of your role in your society, it is possible to end up in a completely untenable position. For example, I suspect that the reason these people came after you was because a man we spoke to earlier reported the contact and a decision was made that they needed to silence you before we got here. Which means -as you originally concluded- this is now a failure on their part. Heck, I imagine that whoever was monitoring this called their superiors in just as soon as it became clear how badly it was going."

"And now? They know we're going to find out everything that they wanted to prevent you telling us. And that their soldiers just took a shot at an Honour Guard Lantern. And while the Guardians might have ruled that mutilating children wasn't something they were prepared to intervene over, a direct and knowing attack on a member of the Corps will probably result in them giving Lantern Gardner a little more leeway to investigate however he likes. And Lantern Gardner does not like the concept of child soldiers very much."

"A person… In a controlling position… Might like to contemplate the odds of someone above them in the chain of command… Deciding that sacrificing them to placate the Green Lantern Corps would be the sensible plan. And that the faster 'rogue elements' could be disavowed, the more likely such a scheme would be to work." I smile. "Just a thought."

I stand back up, Guy looking at me askance.

"What was that?"

"Oh, just smoothing our path a little. Ring, contact… Orange One Five Eight Two."

"Compliance."

Xor's head appears over my ring.

"Just intercepted an assassination attempt. Be on your guard in case some idiot decides to go for you as well."

He nods, then his head vanishes.

"You have one of my species as a Lantern?"

"Yes. How do you think I even heard about your civilisation?"

"Alright, let's not get distracted here. I've got two big problems with the Alignment right now. Number one, doin' that to orphan kids. Number two, killin' them if they don't die." He walks a few steps towards his captives and prods the closest with his right boot. "Not sayin' there ain't other stuff I don't like on top a' that, but I gotta start somewhere. So. What's goin' on?"

"Corruption breeds corruption. Laws… Originally meant to allow decent rulers to deal flexibly with complex problems now let dishonourable ones do whatever they like to preserve the system that gives them power."

"'kay?"

She shakes her head. "The War Hounds were originally a veteran unit, soldiers whose loyalty was proven over years of good service. But over time, the prestige drew well-connected officers looking only to boost their careers. Quality soldiers no longer wanted to serve there."

"Okay, but how do you get from there to cuttin' kids' brains out?"

"It was intended to augment volunteers in our military. And… At first, that was what it was used for. They found out that young recruits managed the transformation better. Then… I don't know quite when they began using orphans."

"Guess it beat having them euthanized."

She shakes her head. "That was gradual as well. A law which was supposed to allow terminally ill people with no next of kin to end their lives-. But… Yes, I suppose that it did. They were already being used in combat before knowledge of what they were became widespread. I think-. I charitably think that people assumed that they were… Older children without other prospects."

"But they ain't."

"No. Adolescents, children… They will take infants, if they can get them."

"Why are they so fixated on 'honour'?"

"It's a sick joke. The original War Hounds were renowned for their honour, for their courage and moral decency." She shakes her head. "At first, they tried to program the children to simply be loyal and obedient, but that resulted in them being used by their direct supervisors in too many assassinations. They would not question their orders, so tended to follow the most recent one. So they changed the program to create soldiers who were loyal to the original code, but without any ability to discern that those giving them orders did not hold to it."

"What happens when they work it out?"

"I know roughly what proportion of those former War Hounds who left the military were murdered. I have no idea how many are murdered while they still serve."

"Why does your government care about people finding out?"

"We are used to being beaten down. To being compelled to be loyal. But there are still limits to what people will accept. I doubt that the nature of the War Hounds being more widely known would cause outright civil unrest, but there would be… Acts of disobedience. Of uncooperation."

"Why do you care so much?"

"My mother used to work in their laboratories."

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
17:18 GMT

Guy's eyes narrow.

"Doin'… What?"

"She worked on the neural programming system. She… Wanted to develop something that could be used in schools, but… That wasn't what the government was funding her for. The data implanting system they… Well, so far as I know that they still use, that was largely her work. I think that the official record of her trial lists that as the reason why she was murdered."

Ring, one way transmit to Xalitan Xor.

Compliance.

"She was murdered by a former War Hound named Xalitan Xor, wasn't she? Personal revenge seems rather contrary to how everyone's been telling me they're programmed to think."

"Xalitan… None of them mind what was done to them. Since few of them remember ever being anything else… If you or I were forced into a strange body, had our minds reprogrammed and then were made to fight for a government that treated us with contempt, we would resent it. They were taught in such a way that they wouldn't. Some… The ones who had the early versions of the program, went mad when they kept getting contradictory instructions. But Xalitan didn't.. have that problem. My mother could have transplanted his brain herself and he wouldn't have borne a grudge about it."

"You believe that he was innocent?"

"Of course he was innocent." She frowns slightly. "I don't know why they bothered with the show trial. Father had to disavow him of course. He wouldn't let me go anywhere near the trial in case I tried to argue in Xalitan's favour."

"'Had to'?"

"Come on, Guy. The fix was in. Everyone who could change the situation had come to terms. All Jaggar Ton could have done is cut his own throat shaving." I glance at Onigar. "And probably hers as well."

"Father tried to convince me.. that Xalitan might have done it. Or perhaps he was trying to convince himself. Father did not become rich by being a scrupulously honest man, but… He did not… Not routinely betray his employees like that."

"So… It wasn't even anything to do with Xalitan being a War Hound who was succeeding outside of the military?"

"I don't know. I imagine that was convenient. By definition, War Hounds don't have family to cause a fuss when they 'disappear'." She shakes her head. "Perhaps he would have been disappeared in a few years anyway, but… I would have liked to have been able to spend more time with him."

"Did they tell you what happened-?"

"The ship he was being transported on malfunctioned and was.. probably lost with all hands. That most likely was an accident. I doubt they would have considered him to be worth the price of a ship and a trained crew."

"So what did your mom do that made your government wanna kill her?"

Onigar shakes her head. "I don't know. I don't even know for certain that they had her killed. There are a great many parts of our government that can order someone killed."

"And once she was dead, that was one less loose end." I nod. "We're not here to investigate your mother's death, but if we find anything we'll let you"-. She's looking out of the window. "-know."

Xalitan Xor is standing on the balcony, and hesitantly brings his fists together at his chest.

"Xaly?"

"The ship crashed close to our-"

Onigar slowly walks toward him, her hands nervously reaching out to him.

"-homeworld, and I thought that he had the right stuff."

Xor remains stone-faced for a moment, before lowering his hands and allowing her to place her hands on his chest.

"I did not know that they threatened you."

"Of course you didn't."

"Your father spoke only to curse me."

"He thought that he had to."

"He was… Right. If he had told me you were in danger, I would have confessed. I have raged at him, cursed him, when… He wanted to exchange my safety for yours."

"I'm not safe. No one's safe." Onigar makes a gasping-laugh noise. "You have a power ring."

"I began working for your father after I risked my life to save his. I began working for my new master when he risked his life to save mine."

"In the interests of honesty, I wasn't.. really in that much danger. Look, Guy and I can.. go and interrogate these guys somewhere else while you two reconnect..?"

"No."

Xor's environmental shield flares.

"I came here for revenge. On my judges. On Jaggar Ton. I thought this was personal. One man's pride against another's. But it isn't. The mechanisms of the society which surrounds us are… Vast. The dishonourable behaviour I hate… It is not from any one person but from every person. And it is so everywhere that no one even notices!"

"Illustres." He looks at me. "When you first told me why you were an Orange Lantern, I did not understand what you were trying to tell me. I did not know what the universe being.. wrong could mean. Now, I think that I am beginning to understand. And I do not like it."

"Alright. What do you plan on doing about it?"

He delicately steps around Onigar and walks towards the branded War Hounds, leaning down to take hold of the shoulders of the closest. "Why do you do this?"

"We do as we are ordered."

"And when you are ordered to attack non-combatants?"

"We are told that not all fights are so obvious. We fight to preserve the state."

"Why?"

"This life makes sense. I serve. I fight. It's what I'm for. Isn't it? You are as we are. Why do you feel differently? Did you not fight who you were told to fight?"

"I did." Xor removes his hands from the man's shoulders and turns to me. "Illustres, do you have need of them?"

"There are questions I'd like to ask them. What do you have in mind?"

"This." He lays his hands on the man's head and-

Connection lost.

-orange light flares from his palms as my brand evaporates.

"Serving the dishonourable with honour undermines that honour. You cannot mark out some small part of the universe and say, 'here is honour' when all the rest is consumed with vice."

Xor lifts his hands off the defeated War Hound's head and steps back, the other man watching him curiously.

"You cling to what little you can hold so that you don't see your life running through your fingers. No more. We will not tolerate being treated like this. We will teach the Alignment honour once more or die trying."

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
17:18 GMT -1

Mr Hyde narrows his eyes slightly, most likely trying to puzzle out my thinking. "Not that I mind getting some shore leave, but I'd like an explanation for the sudden change of plan."

Since he's now openly on the New Light's side, we can have these meetings in somewhat more civilised locations. At the moment we're sitting in a private drawing room in an upper class Venturian restaurant, a small selection of drinks and pastries on the table between us. Fashion being what it is, commonplace surface world drinks like 'Orangina' share shelf space with quality seaweed teas and the juice of engineered Atlantean sea fruits.

"An oversight on my part." I shrug. "While our ability to overthrow inefficient governments is -in no small part thanks to you and yours- really quite good, we're having a bit of a bottleneck with the 'installing replacements' part of the plan. Destruction is.. always easier than creation. The fields of engineering and administration just don't seem to attract the same superlative individuals as.. criminality, mercenary work or vigilantism. We're working on it, but it's going to be… Six months to a year before we have need of your services in that field again."

Mr Hyde relaxes slightly, nodding. "You sure you don't have any missions for me? I've worked on training militia troops before."

I nod. "I'd considered that, but the fact is that you're still too… 'Hot' for a government that wishes to seem legitimate to deal with. And frankly, keeping the new rulers dependent on us for defence is probably better than empowering them to do it themselves. In the short term, anyway."

"Those grey things?"

"The genomorphs don't precisely work for me. I'm simply one of their clients. But the senior g-goblins and the Light have a good working relationship. I'm not one to.. wax lyrical about the wonders of free market security, but compared to third world police services a race of networked telepaths are remarkably effective."

Having practised extensively during the rebuilding of Tamaran, the current model of g-goblin controllers are quite skilled both at directing their g-troll brethren in civil engineering and their g-elf kindred at criminal apprehension. And with a far lower mortality rate than those countries used to have.

He semi-smiles. "They're squeezing people like me out of the market."

"Mister Hyde, you have no need to worry. We will always have a use for your services. But there is a reason beyond your relationship with Kaldur that I want you legitimised. Mercenaries are not good for civilisation. We will have to transition you to a new role eventually." He nods. "Oh, and good work with that hostage rescue."

"I got your thank you note. And your cheque. Not to do myself down, but I think you overpaid me. They were untrained thugs."

"They were enemies of civilisation. But more to the point, I like having people on the payroll whom I can trust to take the initiative in sensible ways. And you seem like the sort of fellow to respond well to financial incentives."

In a slightly more aggressive anti-piracy act than I originally planned for, Mr Hyde's people pursued a group of kidnappers several miles inland and liberated some aid workers and a journalist. Competent subordinates are such a treasure.

"So: put my feet up until I see an opportunity to play hero?"

"'Playing hero' would be too obvious. Just make it clear that you're giving discounts for pro-social work. I'll cover it." He nods. "As things stand, you've basically killed off surface world interest in arresting you."

His eyes dip momentarily. "But Orin isn't moving."

"You've pissed off Atlantis something fierce, Mister Hyde. I think we're going to need to find something special that you can do for them before he'll go for it. I can't think of anything off the top of my head, but I'll keep an eye out."

"We could set something up."

I shake my head. "Far too high a chance of it being discovered. And it only takes one such incident for everything we've done to come under suspicion. Orin doesn't like you, but he certainly isn't prioritising your capture. We aren't in any rush. Though if you hear about anything-."

"Think a list of Ocean Master's agents would do it?"

Hmm.

"It might. May I ask why you didn't volunteer that sooner?"

"Thought it might come in handy. But if I'm not going to be operating in Poseidonis again, it's no use to me."

Sounds plausible. And the two of them had been coordinating for some time… Well, as my old biology teacher used to say, 'it's your own time you're wasting'.

"I can communicate any information which you wish to share to King Orin. I can also arrange to make Venturian soldiers available if he needs any additional force on hand to make the arrest attempts successful."

Mr Hyde looks away for a moment, turning his attention to the window and its excellent view of the city. "Mm. Venturia."

I raise my eyebrows. "Has there been a problem? Some friction between your people and the Venturians?"

"No, they've been perfectly… Hospitable. It's Queen Clea's behaviour that bothers me."

"Heck, Mister Hyde. I'm basically the Light's Human Resources guy. If there's some sort of personnel problem, let me know and I'll fix it. What's she been up to?"

"She's been... Undermining me. Trying to distract me during our discussions. I'm not sure why, but I'm concerned that she may decide that her interests and those of the Light do not coincide."

Be a pretty good trick if it were true… And from the sounds of it Mr Hyde hasn't quite managed to free himself of that 'grand supervillain alliance' nonsense. "Could you be a little more specific? Is she ridiculing your plans? Issuing orders to your troops?"

"She's coming on to me."

…

His face remains calm, but I can feel how uncomfortable he is telling me that. Big tough male supervillain making a sexual harassment complaint. But, if she's making him uncomfortable…

"As a result of her rejuvenation process, Queen Clea is currently going through a reverse menopause. A predictable result of this is a substantially increased libido. You're an attractive single man with the sort of character she respects, and given your own history it doesn't seem unreasonable for her to assume that blonde Atlantean women are your thing. Now, if you want me to tell her to stick an icepack on it-."

He frowns. "You think her interest is genuine?"

"I'd need to actually ask her, but it's a distinct possibility." I shrug. "Long or short term, I can't say. Or she could just be flirting."

His frown deepens, his gaze growing distant. "Huh."

"So do you want me to intervene, or should I leave you to it?"

"You didn't set this up, did you?"

I let out a bark of laughter. "Ah, no. I'm nothing like that subtle. Last time I tried setting two colleagues of mine-."

BANG!

We're both on our feet, him with missiles targeted and me with daiklave in hand as-.

I relax as Adom comes through.

"Grayven. Manta."

"Adom. Is there a problem?"

"The auguries say that Oggar has taken note of Circe's restoration, and with Mordru dead there is nothing to prevent his return. Circe believes that we can lure him into a location of our choosing, but I no longer have the Wizard's support. I am not certain that I can defeat him alone."

"And with Circe?"

"She is eager to face him, but she has yet to regain her full strength. I am.. reluctant to risk her."

"Hmhnmhaha! Adom, I doubt that she'll let you stop her. But." I walk over to him and take the sheath containing the Sword of the Fallen off my harness. "You can borrow this. That should even things up a little." Empower the Champion!

He pulls the Sword a short way out of the scabbard, then nods at me. "Thank you. You do not intend to participate directly?"

I shrug. "I will if I need to. But… By Apokoliptian standards, this is a perfect date for you and Circe and I'd be a heel to involve myself."

Adom frowns faintly. "Da.. te..? I…"

"She wasn't exactly being subtle, Adom. Hunky super powered god-king like you seems to be just her type."

"That…" He steps back towards the boom tube. "I will.. consider your words."

He steps through, and the tube shuts down.

I turn back to Mr Hyde.

"When I set something up, it looks like that."

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th February
05:05 GMT

"O-kay."

I look around the cargo hull of Xor's reclaimed ship.

"Ten thousand bleed fracture personal communicators designed to look like commercially available brands with text, sound and video recording and transmission. Effectively unlimited data storage and able to interact with government monitored channels and charge from commercially available power points."

Onigar picks one up and taps the screen, working her way through the menu.

"I… Can see the use of it. But I was expecting you to do something more aggressive."

I shake my head. "Not a good idea. Intervention-in-force would require an army of occupation numbering in the billions. I don't have an army that big lying around." Though Dox is working on it. He probably could field a billion soldiers at this point, but most of them would be from allied worlds and their governments would only authorise them for fighting the Reach. "So we're using a prod-based strategy."

"Meaning?"

"Make it harder to get away with being bad, and make the punishment for grotesque violations extreme. So rather than citizens fearing government attack squads, malevolent government officials will fear the righteous retribution of Lantern Xor's team. Or such other individuals who might choose to act on the information they receive. And their own citizens will gain the ability to share evidence of malevolent activity with a device the government can't censor."

I shrug.

"This decay isn't the result of the activity of a single individual I could arrest or assassinate. Is it?"

"No."

"And I'm trying to ease up on mass killings. I'm.. afraid that this doesn't meet my threshold for that. This is… Going to have to be a long-term thing."

She looks around at the equipment racks. "How long will Xor be staying?"

"Until it's done."

"Doesn't he have other duties?"

"Yes: teaching me how to train people. Orange Lanterns aren't police. Police… Are supposed to be objective, disinterested servants of the law. Like Green Lanterns. Orange Lanterns fight the fights which matter to them as individuals. This is the most important thing in Lantern Xor's life." I shake my head. "I'd be a fool to try and order him away. When he's done… We'll see."

"Ten thousand won't be enough. My homeworld alone has a population-."

"While this is the most important thing in Lantern Xor's life, it isn't the most important thing in mine. This ship has the facilities to manufacture more but you'll have to organise that yourself."

"Avoiding the Alignment's fleet might be difficult."

"The ship has excellent stealth, and can move. And Lantern Xor is perfectly capable of moving the fabrication unit to a different location. But if you're directly engaging the Alignment's fleet then you're doing it wrong." I nod my head to the right. "I think. You know more about your culture than I do."

"And if I want to cause a civil war against a state ruled by the people who ordered my mother's death?"

I know that she doesn't, but I suppose that these things have a way of escalating.

"Then maybe that's for the best." I shrug. "I have an unusual insight into some areas, but my understanding of sociodynamics is nothing special. In the long run it may turn out to be better to have a war."

The door opens and Guy walks in. "You about finished in here?"

"I think so. You?"

"I'd rather have your job. Retribution missions ain't exactly in th' Green Lantern Corps playbook."

"On the positive side, you don't have to kill anyone."

"You don't have t' kill anyone."

"Yes, but if I did it wouldn't be a problem for me."

"Hm. You ever wonder 'bout that?"

"Occasionally. You picked a location?"

"Short term, sure. Long term I was thinkin' 'bout that place in Vega with the snailfuckers. Since yer headin' that way anyway."

"There's… Room, but I don't really want to dump a whole lot of different aliens in the same place."

"Hey." He pokes me in the chest. "You're the Illustres. You want someplace else t' dump people then plan fer it."

I hesitate before going with my instinctive response of 'I'd be happy just shooting them'. I don't think that argument would be productive.

"Isn't there a Green Lantern Corps marooning world marked out around here?"

"Sure. Problem is, th' Alignment's got good FTL. Ain't that hard t' find it."

"Fine, I'll take them." I won't be giving them anything more advanced than simple farming tools, so there shouldn't be that much trouble with the locals. And the Gordanians can take care of themselves. Need to check up on them when I'm there. "Need me for anything else?"

"Nah. Get outta here."

I nod and turn away, staring eyes unfocused. One nice thing about neural imprinting children with little or no life experience is that they end up looking rather similar to me. So the War Hound training facility is… There.

I raise my right hand to my forehead, and the ship vanishes.

To be replaced by another ship.

Interesting. I engage my armour's stealth systems and take a moment to look at it. The Alignment has been experimenting with FTL weapons, but their current generation have colossal power requirements that they struggle to meet. That results in them putting the guns on what are effectively battleship hulls, replacing large portions of the gunnery, armour and shields with generators and thrusters and turning it into an artillery vessel. It's not a terrible design, but the FTL weapon design they're using is more of a 'neat trick' rather than anything truly game-changing. Most of the power goes into bypassing physics rather than hitting the target, so this thing basically reaps small to mid-sized vessels and can't fight things of its own displacement.

Plenty of other ships in this area as well. The location isn't a shipyard-. No, it is, but for repair purposes only. They actually build their ships in systems with inhabited worlds. There are a few large space stations where they train a lot of their ship crews, and the planetside facility where new War Hounds are made.

It is nice that their technology doesn't let them track me while I'm actively evading them.

I point myself at the planet and activate my armour's thrusters.

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th February
05:24 GMT

I look back 'up' towards the Alignment's Reserve Defence Fleet, intended to rapidly respond to external attacks in what their strategic planners hope would be overwhelming force. Eight battleships designed with a focus on FTL speed, sublight speed and agility. An unusual design; most fleets which rely on dodging and carefully picking their fights don't build ships in their weight class, or else use them very differently. The Thanagarian fleets are far more typical in that regard: short-range attack craft flying from a brick of a Command Carrier capital ship.

As I understand Alignment doctrine, they aim to operate at medium range in order to get the maximum advantage from their all-lightspeed gunnery. Precisely coordinated fire from multiple ships striking vulnerable locations on their target without disrupting their own ability to dodge the enemy's slower than light return fire. Though I don't think it was deliberate, that weapon focus makes them reasonable counters to Lanterns.

Lanterns they can see, anyway.

There are six of the capital ship sized sniper vessels, though that's about all that their navy has of them while the eight true battleships only represent a quarter of the total number their navy possesses. Thirty cruisers of a variety of configurations. None of them are attack craft carriers, because there's not much point when you're using lightspeed weapons; everything you've got can target them efficiently outside of their preferred engagement range.

Add to that the heavy shields, armour and weapon arrays of the stations and the interdiction field generators strewn throughout the system, and… Yeah, this is a pretty good setup. But it's not a schizo tech setup. Everything here fits technological paradigms which are replicated all across this galaxy.

Except the-

Two cruisers flash into being near to my emergence point. Well, I was momentarily detectable. But they don't have anything that can detect me now, so other than giving me an idea what their response times are it doesn't really achieve anything.

-super strong infantry.

The thing about this galaxy is that species with ludicrous abilities are uncommon rather than nonexistent. As such, the fact that Xor had super strength didn't seem all that odd to me. Even the fact that his augmentations were artificial… Well, plenty of people on Earth could say the same thing about theirs.

But that's rather the point. Earth is unusual. Humans get all sorts of weird abilities. Other species don't, as a rule. Other species have to work things out the slow, scientific, step by step way. On the surface it looks like Alignment biotechnology should be extremely advanced. War Hound bodies can't run purely on chemical energy, and making bodies run on more exotic things is hard. And that knowledge wouldn't just be used on War Hounds. There should be organic power generators, organic starships… Organic everything really because otherwise they would have made the War Hounds cyborgs so as to have them synergise with their other technology.

But those things don't exist. There are a few possible explanations for that. The most obvious is that it's something they've gotten from somewhere else. A Qwardian Weaponer might have designed the bodies for them, except that they've been using them for longer than Varnathon has been in power. Which means that there would have been a political motive for the sale, and the Weaponers wouldn't have intentionally given them something they could reverse engineer or alter. But the Weaponers are hardly the only people selling sophisticated weapons.

They might have found something more advanced than they could make themselves, and only worked out how to use it and not how it works. Archeotech, that bane of anti-anachronistic historians everywhere. If it's a single piece controlled by the navy then there might not have been any spin-off benefits… Maybe. But a body biologically compatible with a brain from another species is a pretty unusual thing to build and then leave lying around.

Or maybe they have got good enough data control to develop a line of novel biotechnology and keep it… No, someone would have picked up on it, surely? Regional rivals, other parts of the government… A singular genius could develop the technology, but they'd need resources and.. they'd be monitored. It might take an outstanding mind to create those war bodies but it would only take a good one to reverse engineer it when they can see how it's being done.

So it's a puzzler.

I turn back around as I drop through the atmosphere and head towards the facility. At this distance I can easily pick out the individual bundles of desire that mark out the locations of the crew. The already trained War Hounds stand out, with their simple and strong desire sets clearly distinct from the confused messes of the yet-to-be-processed unowned orphans or the complex structures of the soldiers and civilian workers. Xor gave me a description of the interior, but he hadn't been back since his first year of service and he wasn't allowed to wander far. Risk a scan or plug myself into the facility's internals once I get inside?

I think I'd rather know in advance if they can detect ring activity, actually.

Ring, scan that facility and get me a map.

Compliance.

Data received and phase just in case…

Huh. The processing centre is well armoured, guarded and has an independent force field system, but there's nothing… Exotic happening there. No weird Bleed effects preparing to boot me out of the universe, no arbitrarily powerful magics… Sure, a lot of brainwashed people with plasma weapons and super strength, but those are comparatively simple to bypass.

And… It doesn't look like anyone detected that.

Huh.

Alright, I'm not going to complain. The facility's primary force field is not up by default, so… I can.. just fly through the walls?

I mean, okay, but…

I suppose that not everyone has a chunk of the Anti-Monitor's armour stuffed away in their secret research centre.

The exterior is thick enough to take a few seconds of orbital pounding before the shields go up, but I phase through it without resistance. On the other side is… Part of the force field emitter array. Nothing… Exceptional-looking about it. Solid construction, a few redundancies for when the strain starts to overload parts but not enough to be wasteful. That sort of overload is generally the result of holding off a sustained assault below its theoretical maximum failure threshold for a extended period of time. Generally, an attacker will give up or blast through before that really becomes a concern, but some planetside facilities are built this way.

No pressing need to do anything to it. It's possible to build remote construct bombs but I haven't really practised the technique and they're not any better than their more conventional counterparts. I could build a stealth explosive, but… It increases the risk of me being detected and… In the event that I did have to fight my way out it wouldn't save me much time. Best just leave it.

Bypassing the door and any sensors that are built into it I phase through the wall. A wide corridor, with a weakly armoured exterior-facing wall and a heavily armoured interior-facing one so that in the event the shield generator explodes the blast is channelled away from the armoured exterior without penetrating the facility. A short distance away I see a work crew doing something to the lighting system while an armed patrol is patrolling without any obvious haste. Regular soldiers, not War Hounds. Aside from the paint scheme they're equipped exactly as the police are.

Okay, I want to go down and inward. The primary computer core is my first stop, then the independent core used by the mental programming system. Those are near the bottom of the facility. Next are the living quarters, on the grounds that they're low-security and it doesn't matter all that much if they're overrun by attackers or destroyed by incoming fire. And-.

I stop halfway out of the wall as I see a child of perhaps… Five? Sitting motionless on a futon in the corner of a bare room. Her head is tilted slightly towards the floor and she's… Just… Staring blankly.

…

There aren't any female War Hounds. Since their artificial bodies are designed purely for combat there wouldn't be much point in including a womb or mammaries. But they'll take whatever brains they can get.

She's just going to sit there until… They decide that it's time to scoop out her brain. I suspect that her original body will then be destroyed as medical waste. Either that, or cut up for transplant parts. And yes, she won't be using them any more and she won't be dead…

But as unpleasant as that is, there's a reason why I'm here and Guy isn't.

I fly past her and drop through the floor.

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th February
05:31 GMT

There's… Barely enough space down in the computer core room for me to phase in. My heavy armour adds a great deal to my volume, and while I could have built dedicated stealth armour I decided that a more generalist suit was better for when the people trying to kill me have anti-phasing weapons and decent sens-.

I phase out again as a technician wanders back through the space I'm standing in. Oh, this is annoying. Don't IT people usually work from their own stations rather than hanging around the server?

The technician stops next to me and crouches, carefully removing a panel on the computer core's exterior and waving a probe-tool into its interior. Fine, he's going to be there for a little while. Keeping my stealth system active I phase back in and reach out my left arm towards the core. My gauntlet doesn't quite touch it, and.. in this position I don't think I can make it. But the gap is a few centimetres, my filaments are near-invisible and I can phase out before anything can react to me being here.

My filaments reach out… And that's the core. Load everything.

Compliance.

Personnel records… Yes, Onisia Van worked here, and allegedly left because the project was complete. Her appraisals are actually rather complimentary. Nothing about her death. Xalitan Xor's record… Huh, that is his original name. I suppose there wouldn't be much point renaming him, the mental programming would ensure that who he was before wouldn't be that important to him. And yes, they do dispose of the bodies as medical waste.

Hygienic.

Over five hundred thousand War Hounds currently in service, which seems a little on the large-. Ah! Because their fleet's weapons attenuate horribly when fired through an atmosphere, meaning that they can't reliably bombard ground targets. They have to land troops to destroy ground targets. And there isn't much in this region of space that could actually stop them. Even if the defending party shot their drop pod, they'd have a better than average change of surviving the terminal velocity fall and walking it off.

Records of the other transformation candidates, psychological evaluations of their own staff… Yes, even the Nazis had trouble with their soldiers having breakdowns so I can see why it might become a problem here. As would being too hostile to the children who will shortly gain the ability to smash you into mush.

A whole lot of basic information, more data to add to my map… Yes, there isn't anything in this facility that threatens me. If I didn't mind killing everyone I wouldn't even need the Ophidian's help. Still, no reason to get careless. I withdraw my filaments and phase, heading towards the system responsible for the mental imprints.

Corridor, corridor, large room which appears to be… Physical therapy for the recent conversions. Then another-.

There's a piercing beeping sound, and the soldiers on duty suddenly look more alert, preparing their guns. The War Hounds-in-training mostly look around in confusion or fall over in surprise. An alert of some sort. That… Shouldn't have been my fault. They don't have any way to detect me directly, and if me accessing the computer tipped them off then it would have sounded immediately. A drill then? Or have Xor and Guy started and this base is going active because of that?

Not an immediate concern. If anything, the fact that they're distracted will make accessing the programming system easier. I resume my journey. Part of a kitchen, a guard station with a squad leader querying what's going on over his personal communicator…

And here we… Are.

Oh. That's where they got the technology.

Technicians are entering what appears to be test data on the system. A system that bears a remarkable resemblance to the Citadelian laboratory I saw on Hny'xx. Ex-Citadelian..? No. No, they don't sell that sort of technology, and wouldn't be able to adapt it to a new species even if they did. A psion did this. They wouldn't see anything wrong with cutting out brains, reprogramming them and sticking them in new bodies. They also wouldn't be interested in doing the work themselves once they had the system up and running. Nothing in the files I acquired about a psion, or… This could be psions, and official effort of the government of Wombworld rather than the efforts of a few specialists hiring themselves out.

But they're not still here. They wouldn't let aliens fiddle with their equipment unsupervised if they were. And there's nothing about members of another species in the database. Psions have different diets to the locals, radically different behaviours and they're physically very dissimilar. They also take brutal revenge when someone does something stupid like killing their people at the end of the contract so that hasn't happened.

I guess-. No. This happened long before I went to Vega for the first time. But… I might have enabled the psions to do more things like this in other places. But again, they're hardly the only high tech arms traders in the galaxy. Don't know.

There are a batch of disembodied brains sitting submerged in techno-organic cradles as the device does its work. In another part of the room technicians wheel away the last of the debrained… Bodies, while the automatic cleaning systems get to work cleansing the stains left by the chirurgery. But, that means that the area is now clear for me. I fly there and then phase in and wait.

The alarm has stopped and none of the soldiers in here look particularly worried. I suppose that it would.. make sense to have this section on a separate system. Brains are sensitive things, and I doubt that they would want a great many additional variables from the children.

No, no one's reacting to me. I extend filaments from my foot into the room's floor, gradually working them towards the cabling below. Now, there wasn't anyone on the staff who was at anything like Onisia's level when it comes to this sort of programming. That seems a little short-sighted to me, but if the programming allows those subjected to it to be adaptable enough but not too adaptable… I mean, it's not as if their brains are going to redesign themselves and necessitate a programming update.

Connection established.

And that's the program. That's how you compel people to be honourable. Or at least how you do it by so totally shaping their schema that they can't think in other ways. And in my ring is the patch that will alter it to something a little different.

Now that I've seen this place, is that still how I want to respond? How much harder would the societal reform process become if I simply erased this facility? Answer: quite a lot, as national security is a very popular rally flag. Something that looks like an external attack will result in people affirming their loyalty to the state and its government. And Xor doesn't actually have a problem with the generality of what happens here. If the government had kept up its end of the deal he'd probably be trying to stop me. And Onigar was pretty clear about wanting to shut this place down once the current government is suitably reformed.

Upload complete.

I remove my filaments and repair the hole in the floor.

Yeah.

I look at the brains again, whose concept of honour will now include an inclination to gradually come to disparage a leader who demonstrates a lack of the qualities they hold dear. I certainly wouldn't create this, but… I'm not going to tear it down in this situation. The psion link on the other hand, that I do need to follow up on. Nothing on the main server, nothing on the system here. I don't.. think that the Guardians have ever tried to impose a galactic ban on dealing with the psions, if only because that would involve telling people who've never heard of them who they are, where they are and what they can do, but it would certainly give Guy more ammunition when the Guardians ask about this later if I can get hard evidence.

The facility's offices aren't far from here. The commander might have a separate system for ultra-secure records, though of course it's quite possible that there aren't any records here.

Ring, message to Lantern Gardner. 'Please attempt to secure records relating to contact between Alignment government and the psions.'

Message sent.

I watch as a new batch of technicians wheel in a tank containing a War Hound body, tubes from the monitoring system connected through the gaping hole in the top of the skull directly to the brainstem.

I phase out once more and head for the offices.

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th February
05:38 GMT

No… Nothing here.

It's a tidy, well-ordered work space, but the computer equipment is all part of the network and a quick poke around the interior hasn't revealed a separate hard drive or anything like that. So… Either they physically destroyed the records, or… The commander has a personal computer attached to her forearm, Pip-Boy style. I had assumed that it was just a personal interface to access the network, but it could have classified information on it. Getting data from there will be difficult, and…

Well, what happens if they do spot my filaments? I'm not sure if my presence has been announced to the general public. It probably wouldn't have been conveyed to a place like this. In the usual run of things. They know that we're concerned about this place by now. So the commander at least will probably be in the know. If they find out that I'm here that will prompt a full inspection of the facility. Which might result in them detecting the changes I made to the program, though I edited the log as well… A technician might notice it, but only if they went through the entire program and specifically remembered the original content of the part I altered.

And it's not as if they would suddenly gain the ability to stop me or anything.

Alright, according to the schedule the commander is currently overseeing the training of the senior War Hound recruits. That's in.. that direction-.

Message received from Lantern Gardner.

I phase out and fly in the direction of the commander.

Play it?

Message content: 'Psions?'.

Outer office, corridor…

Phase in. Response: 'Equipment similar to psion equipment. Suspect psion involvement in War Hound project'.

Message sent.

The most adaptable tool in the universe and I'm using it for text messages…

Phase out.

Hm. Actually… If I limit my environmental shield to the interior of my armour -which is simple enough- then there wouldn't necessarily be anything to link the Lanterns paying them a visit to the person breaking into their facility. It's not as if Guy and I were being subtle. Foreign intelligence services in the Alignment are going to be aware of us, and I doubt they're exactly going to be sad if their neighbour's elite infantry suddenly disappear. I haven't been wearing my heavy armour anywhere anyone might see it…

Huh. I emerge-.

Oh. Looks like we intervened just in time.

Or… Possibly not. I suppose there are plenty of reasons why they might be training their heavy infantry in aquatic combat besides a desire to invade the homeworld of the local aquatic Green Lantern. I phase through the water as War Hound trainees trudge slowly along the bottom of the tank, bringing their micro torpedo launchers to bear on designated targets and firing upon them. Up and up I go…

And out of the water. The facility commander is conferring with a small cluster of officers and non-commissioned officers on an observation platform off to one side, while technicians monitor each of the tanks. Plumes of water blast upwards as the torpedoes strike home and detonate, and the closest technicians brace and cover their faces against the water. Okay, high enough. I phase in.

"…system still not good enough."

"It's designed as a medium distance weapon. If we want to test it properly, we'll need bigger tanks."

I fly towards the commander. The ceiling of this room is probably designed to be high in order to accommodate larger 'sets' for their training exercises. I know from my own experience that super strength can be a little hard on your surroundings. Good access to the workshop area so they can build stuff like these tanks and move it into here without too much difficulty. Force fields in case of stray shots.

"These things are already dangerously big. I think we need to talk to the Section Unifier about field trials."

"They're never going to agree to that."

"He said-."

"Yeah, he said, but security-."

I tune them out as I approach my target. She's making notes, which… Ring, local or server?

Notes are being transmitted to the server.

Lights are… Dimish. And she's moving her arm a bit and there are a lot of eyes around her. There's quite a good chance of my filament getting spotted. Ring… track their lines of sight.

Compliance.

They're mostly looking at the tanks, the technicians, each other and their own arm-computers. The guards around them… They're watching all parts of the room but they're not really watching the walls. The ceiling of the main part of the room is getting some attention, but if I float over here…

I send my filament down the wall, across the small gap to the observation platform and… Up the outside of the uniform of the officer standing next to her. Then across the short gap and burrow through the outer casing…

Now let's see what we've got…

Sealed orders on what to do if the facility is compromised, fine. Nothing too shocking. In the event of the facility being overrun they're supposed to destroy the computers but not execute the children. Which I'm glad to read, because that means that I don't feel more inclined to destroy the place. Psion, psion,-

The commander negligently tries to brush my filament off.

-psion… Nothing. I let the filament move as she pushes it, but-. She turns back to look at it, a small frown on her face. Okay, time to go. Dismiss the filament, back away-.

"Did you see that?"

"See what, sir?"

"That…" She's fiddling with her computer, possibly trying to see if anything was accessed. "Strand of… Light."

Alright, time to go. I phase out and fly upwards at speed, parts of the facility flashing past too quickly for me to see what's going on. I could check the stations and the ships, but it looks like the Alignment has good data protection processes. I think I'll be better off with humanoid intelligence in this case. Find whoever arranged the trade and brand them into telling me what I want to know.

I pass out through the facility's roof and turn towards the sky, phasing back in-.

And stop in front of the facility's shield, which has now reactivated.

Hm. Strong impact can disrupt my stealth systems, but that should have been within tolerances. But there's a good chance that the shield registered the impact. I could teleport, but that would cause a flicker of orange. Hm. I phase and drop back down. Staff toilet is… This way, and only monitors people as they enter and exit. I'd rather not do this inside the facility but it shouldn't be a big problem.

One empty stall with… Hose attachments. Okay. Phase in and

step out and then

back inside the ship.

Onigar looks up as she sees the flicker of orange that marks my reappearance, but with my stealth still live I'm invisible.

I deactivate it, returning my power armour to subspace.

"Program updated, and I've gotten a lot of files for you to look through. How are the others doing?"

"They.. were doing well, but now the home defence fleet is moving into position."

"Then I'd best go and help, hadn't I?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th February
05:43 GMT

I appear next to Guy, shrapnel raining off my environmental shield as the wall near to him explodes. Guy glances my way, then edges towards the new exterior exit with a construct shield and a construct minigun.

"Psions, huh?"

"Looks like."

Plasma beams from the ground below strike Guy's shield to absolutely no effect as his minigun spins up. He grimaces as he opens fire, shots.. deliberately slamming down around the soldiers below in an attempt to suppress them. Most of them seek cover, but one tries dashing toward the building we're in. Guy has construct-rounds pepper the ground around him for a second, then with a small twitch changes the angle so that the shots directly strike his body. A series of explosions wreck the soldier's armour and throw him back with… Well, he's bleeding and bruised, but those are very clearly survivable injuries.

"How are things here?"

"We got th' message out." He glances back at the somewhat damaged main datacast centre. "Building's already evacuated. I'm jus' holdin' on so's they get distracted from Xor."

Totalitarian dictatorships are not -as a rule- particularly confident. If you overthrow a government and install your own particular flavour of political absolutism, both you and everyone around you know for a fact that someone else could do the same to you. So you get secret police and purges more or less at random because the leader needs fear, needs potential plotters too terrified to act against them. And so a frankly unnecessary amount of effort is put into media control, because speaking against the autocrat cannot be tolerated. Because the potential encouragement to overthrow the autocrat is far more important to the only person whose opinion matters than mere economics or crime.

The Alignment isn't like that. For a start it's an oligarchy. If you squint a little it even looks meritocratic. Pretty much everyone who is in high office started far lower down the totem pole and worked their way up. And it's existed for long enough that the elite offices are confident in their place in things. Perhaps not all of the individual office holders feel that way, but the government itself isn't worrying all that much about small slights. It's a little like China in that regard; a journalist who defies the party line is unlikely to be executed. They probably won't even be arrested. Depending on what they did, they might not even be fired… The first time. But if they keep at it they would eventually be rendered unemployable. And the people who do toe the line get promoted. So a certain… Culture is encouraged.

And Guy just dumped about forty years' worth of government misdeeds into the planet's communication network and made it… Practically impossible for the government to retract it. As long as we hold this building, anyway. Because the Alignment likes centralised data networks it can control, so it started using it for everything. So to shut this down from elsewhere they would have to shut down their entire data transfer network. Including commercial and military data transfers.

"Onigar says they've got ships coming in."

Guy's point defence constructs shoot a small volley of smart missiles out of the sky.

"And?"

"You can't teleport. They have lightspeed weapons. It's not impossible that they could kill you."

"Yeah, well, quantum uncertainty says it's not 'impossible' that you could turn into a tulip in three seconds."

"Maths is a hell of a drug. They could also drop War Hounds on you."

"Yeah, I guess-. Hang on a second."

He generates a construct anti-aircraft gun and opens fire at.. a small aircraft squadron. I'm impressed. He's using imbued energy pulses combined with a construct and he's still pulling his punches. I could achieve the results that he's achieving, but I don't think I could do it in the way he is.

"Got a little somethin' from Lantern Stel. Could make a real mess a' their internet."

"Which is why we're not going to use it."

"Yeah. Omni-adaptive data infection from Grendan. Figured I'd use it t' wreck a crazy AI or somethin'. Stick it in this an' they can say goodbye t' everything."

"Guy, we talked-."

"Yeah, yeah. Too much gun. An' I ain't got the slightest idea how t' turn it down." He dismisses his flak construct. "You ever pick up an acid mist weapon or somethin'?"

"Not one I'd want to deploy here."

"Fine. I figure if we fly over th' city, that should keep 'em off Xor's crew long enough to get their job done."

"Probably. You want to lead, or should I do it?"

"Does it matter? We're so far outside these guys' weight class it ain't even funny."

"We're in a city. I've never learned how to minimise the damage of flying over a city while spaceships shoot at me."

"Alright." He rises off the ground and generates construct armour. "Follow me."

He flies out of the hole in the wall, energy pulses from his ring forcing the soldiers back into cover. I head after him-. Hm, something exotic from me I think. I create a cold gun construct, this version copying Truggs' use of a gel reservoir. As I pass the soldiers I fire, surrounding them with walls of ice as actual cold beams hit their guns. The ice will eventually melt and.. if they won't wait that long they could risk someone else shooting them out.

Guy's slowing, glancing back to see what's taking me so long. I dismiss my construct and rocket after him. Been a.. while since I've done this. Flown over a city without a specific destination in mind. Teleportation and transitioning are just faster… I know John always goes on about it being the journey and not the destination, but… That's because he's a synchronicity-using street magician. He literally needs to stop and smell the flowers to function. I don't, but as Guy and I fly around a high-rise office building, I think… Maybe I should try to find time to do this more ofte-.

Green lights flicker out from Guy's point defence construct as he shoots another volley of micro missiles out of the air. The air.. car thing, it's not a proper aero fighter, targets us with its lasers. It doesn't have shields, and a pair of energy pulses from me render its primary weapons inoperable. I don't care that they're lightspeed. Firing something like that in a city is a bad-.

A power cell inside the craft explodes, making its frame shake for a moment before it starts falling from the sky-.

I grab it with a construct hand and roughly land it in the middle of the road, bystanders all having had the sense to get away once the shooting started. I follow Guy around another building, using the ring's scan to watch as the crew scramble from their vehicle.

"Come on."

Another two of those vehicles -I'm going to assume that they're the local equivalent of helicopter gunships- begin an attack run from above us. Lasers hit Guy's construct armour and are effortlessly absorbed. My armour is heating up slightly, but between my environmental shield and its construction I'm not worried. We duck around another corner and accelerate, moving at speeds just short of supersonic down a major road. It's been cleared as well, cars abandoned as their owners take shelter in the surrounding buildings.

I wonder how many of them are looking at what Guy broadcasted? I'm pretty sure that Xor will spend as long on this project as it takes, but for his sake I'd-. For his sake and that of the people of the Alignment I'd rather that it didn't take too long. We can show them what their government is like, but if Xor's the only one who's ever prepared to take action to change it then this will be a failure. I-.

Another volley of micro missiles, and this time I throw up a barrier to absorb the blasts. I wonder what they've been told about us? Most interstellar civilisations will hesitate to attack Green Lanterns, so has Guy been accused of killing everyone in the transmission centre or are they just that obedient?

I send out a construct spike, cutting into the antigravity system of one of the aircars and causing it to wobble in the air. Its safety system activates after a momentary delay and forces it to make a rapid landing. The other slows down, allowing Guy and I to pull away. There… Yes, a squadron of military atmosphere craft are flying in this general direction. Again, no weapons that could harm us…

"Lantern Xor to Illustres. Our work is done."

Nothing else, but that's the signal.

"Guy, we're leaving."

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th February
05:48 GMT

Guy slows slightly.

"You know you said those ships could hurt me?"

I fly past him, turning around to keep an eye on him as I do so.

"Yes?"

He looks up and then rockets towards the growing picket, construct rockets appearing around him to boost his speed. Ah, he wants to continue to hold their attention. Or make a point of some kind. Not sure. Alright, him flying through their formation relatively slowly should do that, as well as making a point about their relative capabilities. Would Guy survive? We haven't done much training with laser constructs, but based on their power output and Guy's defensive construct performance…

And assuming that none of them are green. And that he doesn't mind reflecting the shots at least a little rather than flat-out tanking them…

He.. should be okay for a little while. Now, do I follow, or..?

The squadron of aerofighters pulls upwards and begins firing at him. He's moving so much faster than them that sublight weapons would be worthless while those are just nearly worthless. Still, we're trying to keep this part to zero fatalities and the harder they push their vehicles the higher the chance of something going wrong. Like one of the ships taking a shot and their beam attenuating too much to hurt Guy but still being strong enough to melt their own fighters.

I send a photon bomb construct directly upwards and trigger it in their flight path. That should temporarily blind them and remind them that I'm still here. Now-. Ah, they're turning away from the blast and retreating, though the flight pattern… Some sort of emergency AI override? Alignment pilots work with better sensors and pilot-assistance than their human equivalents, but not good enough to maintain formation after losing the humanoid-visible part of the spectrum? I wouldn't have thought so.

Guy is taking fire from the smaller vessels now, the larger ships… Not wanting to risk hitting the city below him at their current angle? Nothing else flying up from the planet. Probably a combination of the fact that he's leaving and the fact that the fleet have far bigger guns. Nothing coming my way.

So what now? I can just teleport to Xor. I can attack the fleet. Or I can stand there next to Guy and let them shoot me for a while. But the point of this exercise is to undermine their faith in their government, not their faith in their military. And just tanking their attacks would make me feel stupid.

Ring, message to Guy. 'Call me if you need help'.

Message sent.

I take a last look around, then raise my right hand to my forehead.

Xor's facing away from me as I appear, but one of his new allies glancing at me and tightening his grip on his gun causes him to turn my way. He salutes me with both fists clenched at his chest.

"Illustres."

"Any trouble?"

He steps aside slightly, revealing the two rows of prisoners he and his team have acquired. Some are uninjured, some unconscious and others are bruised and bleeding. But none are missing limbs, and… Looks like nearly everyone on his target list.

"The rest?"

"We would have had to kill a great many other people to reach them."

I nod. "As you will."

"There will be other times. Where is Lantern Gardner?"

"Making a point to the fleet. Do you agree with his proposed sentence?"

"Yes. I want them alive and suffering. I want them available for a proper trial once honour returns to the Alignment's courts."

"Floor's yours, then."

Xor turns to his prisoners and raises his left hand, strands of orange leaping from his ring and touching each of his prisoners on the forehead. Those who were unconscious wake up with a start, and those who were injured… Their visible injuries shrink a little.

"Attend to me."

Faces blank, scowling and fearful turn in his direction.

"I am Xalitan Xor, formerly a War Hound of the First Array. For ten years I fought for the Alignment, and when I left the army I gained lawful employment first as a construction worker and later as a bodyguard. I was arrested for a murder I did not commit and sentenced to be transported, to spend the rest of my life in penal labour."

"I have decided that I will not let your evil stand."

"You all know what you have done. You have ordered the deaths of those who were politically inconvenient, without even having the decency to allow them trial by combat. Some of you ordered mine. Some of you ordered the deaths of other War Hounds who completed their term of service. But the punishment will be the same. You will be taken to an isolated world, given simple equipment and marooned there. You may die there. You may come to terms with your vices and become more than you are."

None of them say anyth-.

He's removed their voices. Which is a traditional Alignment punishment.

"It does not matter to me. But you will not affect others with your dishonour any longer."

He holds out his left hand and forces his ring off his finger.

"Or if you prefer a swift and honourable death, you may stand. You will be unbound and fully healed, and then we will fight to the death. Whether you live or die, there will be no further examination of your crimes. Do any of you hold your honour in high enough regard to die for it?"

Some of the prisoners look at one another, but no one rises.

"You know what I am. You know how you programmed me to think. You know that my offer is genuine. Will you not affirm your actions one more time? Did not one of you hold a higher ideal in your heart? Do none of you have a belief you would die for?"

Still no movement.

"I am not surprised." Xor holds out his left hand and calls his ring back. "Take them to the cells."

One of his aides begins pulling prisoners to their feet and shoving them in the direction of the ship's hold.

Hm. Haven't heard anything from-.

"Illustres to Lantern Gardner. Still in one piece?"

"P-lease." Guy's face appears over my ring. "What kinda Honor Guard Lantern can't take a little fleet? Be with yah in a couple minutes."

"See you shortly." I look over to Xor. "I'm heading to Vega next, so if you want you can stay here."

"No. I will accompany you. I wish to see how you handle multiple groups of dishonourable people." He grimaces. "I believe that I will have to do that myself."

"Okay then. Next stop, Vega."

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd September 2010
23:02 GMT +3

"Artemis-."

Artemis wheels around to glare at me, jerking her hands up to the sides of her head in a sort of grabbing gesture. "Don't even talk to me."

I bow my head and raise my right hand in surrender. "Okay."

She lowers her hands, maintains her glare for a few moments to ensure that she's made her point, then turns away to stalk over to a dune on the far side of our temporary base of operations, Superboy and M'gann stepping back to give her room.

Wallace looks up from the sensor array he and Richard are working on. "What's her problem? Y'know, now."

"I'm.. afraid that it's personal." Kaldur frowns slightly at me. "And I'm sure that it won't be a problem going forward. I.. just gave Artemis a bit of a surprise and she's… Adjusting."

Wallace smirks. "What, did she ask you out without knowing you're the team token adult?"

"No, though I am meeting up with Patrick Dugan in a couple of days so we can compare notes."

Superboy frowns. "Who's that?"

"Stripesy." Richard doesn't look around from the scanner array. He also isn't having to look the name up. "The Star Spangled Kid's sidekick. They were both members of the All-Star Squadron during the Second World War. I think he was twice the Kid's age."

I nod. "A little over, actually. Robin, is that thing picking up anything my scans didn't?"

"You heard Batman, Oh El. Power ring scans aren't admissible as evidence."

"Right. Except that the reason why we're here is that the Justice League doesn't have legal authority to act in Bialya. We don't either, but… For reasons which I'm.. still not clear on, that isn't a problem because as a League-affiliated auxiliary body we aren't covered by the League's UN Charter in which they agreed not to do exactly what we're doing right now."

"That's about the size of-."

"But as we're a black operation squad, this can't ever come to court anyway. The League can't say that they took those scans without admitting to violating their Charter. They can't say that we did without drawing attention to a huge Charter-bypass that Batman is hoping that no one is going to spot and admitting that this team exists. Boom tube radiation requires specialist equipment to detect, so he can't claim that it was picked up by… I don't know, local physicists or something. And unless one of Bialya's neighbours decides that whatever's happening here is bad enough to declare war over, any follow up activity will have to come from us, because… Charter, black operation."

Wallace stands back from the machine, probably frowning under his mask. "So… This is… A complete waste of time."

"No… Ah… Maybe? Batman can get more of those sensors made and he can't get hold of more power rings, so maybe we're here to test it? Or this is a test for us?"

Superboy folds his arms across his chest and huffs contemptuously.

"Is there a…" Wallace waves his right arm. "Reason you're bringing this up now, rather than when we were in the cave?"

"Because Batman doesn't stop being intimidating just because you reach eighteen. Or, indeed, twenty nine. I didn't really think about it until we'd… Been here for a while."

"Oh man, this is exactly what Red Arrow said would happen!"

"Kid Flash." Kaldur regards him with mild displeasure. "Control yourself. We are in enemy territory."

"Yeah, and this…" He glances at the sensor array. "Thing, and Oh El's ring and Miss Em's telepathy and Supey's hearing will all pick up anything heading our way before either of us notice them."

"Even if this is simply a test, I do not want us to fail it. And neither should you."

"Huh." Wallace thinks for a moment. "Okay. So if this is a test, and we need to do these scans to pass, how do we ace it?"

Oh dear.

Superboy perks up slightly. "We could attack the site, beat up the guards and get them to tell us what's going on."

Oh dear.

Richard turns away from the sensor. "This isn't supposed to be an overt mission. It's not even a vert mission. And since it's covert, losing the 'co' means co-failing the mission."

Hm.

"Miss Martian? How good is your mind control?"

"Aaaahh…" She looks around the group. "Bad. Really really bad. Like I could maybe make someone move their arm when they didn't want to or something but I couldn't make them obey me permanently."

I nod. "I suspect that I can permanently alter someone's desires with this ring, but I don't really know how to do it either. Aqualad? Does the Conservatory teach mental domination magic?"

"Yes, but it is a specialist course, and only available to the most advanced students." He bows his head slightly. "My time studying combat under Aquaman has limited the time I have for arcane study."

I nod. "So we can't mind control Queen Bee into telling us what she's doing, stopping, and reforming the Bialyan government. I could try lecturing her on political theory, but I'm not sure that she'd listen."

Superboy frowns. "They're using the boom tube to bring stuff here from… Apokolips, right?"

I nod again. "Probably."

"So why don't we just blow it up?"

"Not very 'co', Superboy."

"Why? I mean, as long as they don't see us they still don't know the Justice League are the ones who stopped them. We can get Batman's readings and still stop them doing whatever they're doing."

"No." Kaldur shakes his head. "I understand your frustration, but this team is intended to act with subtlety. Unless there is a clear reason to break cover, we will limit ourselves to observation."

"Um." M'gann raises her right hand. "I could take a closer look? I can go invisible so the guards can't see me. And I can keep in contact with telepathy."

I shake my head. "Miss Martian, we know that Doctor Simon Jones is over there. Your invisibility doesn't prevent telepaths from hearing you, does it?"

"It… No."

"And Apokolips is very technologically advanced. If they're trading, then there's a good chance that the Bialyans could detect you even without him."

"They didn't detect the Bio-Ship."

"How do we know that?"

Her eyes widen slightly.

Richard nods. "Oh El's got a point. If they know we're here, and they know that the League won't stop them, and that the League wouldn't send someone unless they knew that something was going on, there's no actual reason for them to attack us."

Kon glowers. "So not only does Batman know this is a waste of time, the Bialyans do too?!"

Kaldur turns my way. "Orange Lantern. Are your scans precise enough to tell when Doctor Jones is asleep?"

"Yes."

"Once he is, Miss Martian will cautiously investigate the camp. Unless we uncover evidence that requires us to act immediately, that is all that we do. If any of you dislike the parameters of the mission, you may take it up with Batman upon our return."

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th September 2010
08:28 GMT -5

Kaldur and I stand as the United States' Ambassador to the United Nations Doctor Susan Rice walks into the conference room. Oddly, Atlantis doesn't actually have a representative here, which means that my first choice was impossible. On the other hand, Dr Rice has on several occasions spoken out against Bialya's human rights abuses and the whole… 'The nation is run by a supervillain' issue.

"Madam Ambassador, thank you for agreeing to see us."

She takes her place at the head of the table and Kaldur and I return to our seats.

"Gentlemen. You said that you have something I need to know about?"

I nod. "Yes. Ah, I'm sorry, I think there are a few things you need to know in order for.. the reason why we're here to make sense, and… How much do you know about galactic politics?"

She sits back slightly. "Not a lot. I know Krypton blew up and that Hawkman and Hawkwoman come from Thanagar. We don't even have regular communication with Mars. I don't think any country on Earth has diplomatic relations with any alien world."

"That's… I believe that Bialya does. A little while ago I.. detected… Very particular gravitational anomalies coming from a.. location in the Bialyan desert. Through observation I was able to identify the source as… Something called a 'Boom Tube'. It's… A particular type of wormhole portal. You can open one from anywhere to anywhere, and move… Anything from one end to the other. Anything that can fit; it takes more power to open larger ones."

"Okay." She nods. "That's worrying, but Bialya never signed the Ozma Accords. There's no obligation on them to declare extraterrestrial contacts."

"That's not-. If anything I'd be happy that countries on Earth were talking to more alien species. The problem is-. There are lots of different ways to travel faster than light. So… Usually, me detecting that a particular method had been used wouldn't tell me anything. For example, there are a dozen species who use gravitational spatial warping in this Sector alone. But… There's really only one species that uses Boom Tubes. And they're… Um, extremely dangerous."

"How so?"

"Their society is split into two competing groups, each occupying a different planet. But they're both… Fairly hardcore fascists. In the case of New Genesis, that only extends to believing that their leader is an unquestionable emissary from God, excluding the majority of the planet's population from their flying super cities and having a generally contemptuous attitude to other species. If Bialya were dealing with them… It might not be a problem. But the people of New Genesis don't deal with aliens very often, so it's more likely that they're dealing with the other guys, and that's very very bad."

"How bad?"

"Apokolips is a fully industrialised super-Earth controlled by an individual their culture identifies as the New God of Tyranny. It's a total autocracy, the majority of the population are slave workers conditioned to regard their conditions and misery as normal and good… It's not an efficient form of industrial production, but the point is that their leader derives power from their suffering. He's turned his entire planet, with a population of hundreds of billions of people, into a giant algemantic generator. They don't conquer and occupy places, but they do routinely invade planets and burn them back to the stone age. They've got a huge fleet, a huge army and their elite are the equivalent of mid to high tier supervillains."

Dr Rice's face gradually fell as I was speaking. "And you think Bialya is dealing with those people."

"I… Recovered an AI from New Genesis at the site which claims that they are. However, I can't authenticate its claims. If they were dealing with New Genesis it would obviously have reason to lie."

"And how can I confirm what you're saying?"

"I… Don't know what the process for formally requesting privileged information from a Justice League member in the know is, but any of the local members of the Green Lantern Corps should be able to confirm what I'm telling you. The Green Lantern Corps has fought Apokolips before and I'm sure that they have far more information than I do."

Dr Rice nods solemnly.

"And…" She looks at Kaldur. "What exactly is the Atlantean position on this?"

"I am not empowered to speak for the government of Atlantis. But as an Atlantean citizen, I have no desire for the Earth to be invaded by such a race of malevolent demigods."

"Are you two working together?"

"Orange Lantern has had little contact with the Justice League." And it's okay to say that for the purpose of a mission, even though it's obviously a lie. "As I do not have a secret identity, he came to me for advice on how to present this information. Since the Justice League is unable to operate in Bialya, I suggested that he come here."

She nods again. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Would you be willing to explain exactly what you saw to someone from the Central Intelligence Agency?"

I nod. "Yes, perfectly happy. I can even bring along the AI if that would help."

"Okay, I'll-." She blinks and look at me anew. "I don't suppose you've got a cell..?"

"Ah… Sorry, no."

"Okay. Phone my-" She passes me a card. "-secretary tomorrow, we'll give you a time and an address."

I take the card. "Thank you. Will you be talking to the League about this?"

"That's up to President Horne, but I expect so."

"If you do..? It.. might be worth asking for information on other galactic threats. So you can identify them early. There isn't all that much that Earth militaries can do against them other than.. fight their local agents and call in the League, but just knowing could save a lot of unnecessary difficulty."

"That sounds like a good idea."

Kaldur actually frowns. "Forgive me, but I am surprised that your government has not already done that. I know that King Orin has such a list."

"Yeah." Dr Rice frowns back. "Now that you point it out, it does seem a little odd. Rest assured I'll be pushing the President to do the same."

I nod, smiling. "I'm glad to hear it."

"Well. Thank you for bringing this to me. Is there anything else?"

I shake my head. "No." Kaldur and I push our chairs back and stand up. "And thank you for taking this so seriously."

"Thank you for coming to the government instead of throwing together a superhero team and charging in there." Kaldur and I don't flinch. "Dealing with rogue nations like Bialya is exactly the sort of thing the United Nations is designed for."

I nod. "Because none of the other permanent members of the Security Council have a stake in Queen Bee remaining in power."

"That's.. not.. quite how I'd put it, but it won't hurt."

The three of us file out, and Kaldur leads me in the direction of the exit. I'm.. feeling.. quite good about how that went. All of those comic book governments who basically exist to miss things that superheroes need to fix -when they're not backing the villains- rather made me think that this wouldn't go anywhere.

"That went well."

"Yes. Though I am not sure that Batman will approve."

"Intimidating as he is, keeping Batman happy is very much secondary to keeping the world uninvaded. If we can't arrest -or kill- the people doing this, we need to hand it over to politicians who can authorise extraordinary measures." I glance at him and smile. "I suppose working directly for King Orin lets you bypass that sort of thing."

He nods. "I imagine that my legal situation is more simple than that of our colleagues."

He presses the 'call lift' button and we wait.

"Will there be further difficulty between you and Artemis?"

"Ah… Probably."

"You had appeared to be cooperating well. What is the source of your dispute?"

"I-. Some of it's personal to her… A… Member of her family had a serious injury and I repaired it with this ring." Kaldur frowns. "And then I asked the person in question out to dinner. Um. Artemis is disquieted by that."

What I shouldn't-. Probably shouldn't tell him is that I'm dating Artemis' mother, and that while Paula and Lawrence had been separated for years they haven't actually divorced yet. And that seeing Paula and I kiss one another when she came back from patrolling Star City was a bit of a shock and means that she now thinks that I'm stalking her, rather than what actually happened which is that I met Paula through Jade.

"Given how protective American superheroes are concerning their personal information, I will trust that the two of you can resolve this without my intervention."

I nod. "Yes, we'll.. talk about it later today." We step into the lift. "I'm sure that we'll be able to sort something out."

"I am glad to hear it."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Jiggity-Jig

8th February
13:27 GMT

"Oh, good throw." I look at the x-ionised axe floating in the air just in front of my face. "And good reflexes."

Zaark just bares his teeth. It's a display intended to intimidate rather than a sign that he's about to attack, and given that throwing his axe at me didn't work I'm assuming that he realises that there isn't anything he could meaningfully do to me.

"Why are you here? Dumping someone else?"

"Yes. Well, technically one of my subordinates is, but I'm overseeing it so I thought that I'd see how you were doing."

He turns his head away, looking at the fields which the gordanians have planted around the homes they've built out of the remains of their ships. Most of them are filled with fruit-bearing vines, but a few have young trees and several have pens containing… Some sort of local giant slug-like animal. I say animal; given how the local semi-humanoids reproduce I suppose that I shouldn't assume that.

I'm not sure that Xor's collection of mid-to-high level Alignment politicians will take to farming in the way the gordanians have, but it isn't as if the gordanians had a lot more experience of it. Tearing Bite farmlands were -and probably still are- slave-operated, and exclusively on Karna. The ships imported their food from their clan mates, only growing small amounts onboard. And -of course- they never thought to trade with the Tamaraneans.

"Fine. You've seen."

"I see you've been promoted."

He bares his teeth again. "Are you trying to be friendly?"

"Would you rather I be hostile?" I shrug. "You and I come from very different cultures. I realise that you haven't done anything that would be considered 'wrong' in your culture. I hope that you understand that you have in mine."

"And you're stronger, I know."

"That's not-. Well, yes. If I were weaker then I wouldn't be able to punish you. But if you were a member of my culture I would actually be punishing you, as opposed to… Putting you in a position where you were unable to reoffend and hoping that your culture will change into something less incompatible with my own."

He grimaces. "Yes, I've been promoted. I can't have my old rank back, but since we have no contact with the part of the clan which is still on Karna our elders can give me a different one." He snorts. "And since we won't get back in contact while I'm still alive, I'll probably die at this rank."

"Congratulations?"

"You can leave now."

I nod. "Okay. Is there anything that you need?"

My rings interpret his expression as a frown, though gordanian faces aren't mobile enough to actually frown.

"My intent is for this colony to function, but you were the first people I've marooned. It's possible that I missed something vital to your settlement's sustainability. If you tell me what it is-" He straightens his posture slightly, looking for a moment at the structure that's either a meeting hall or a canteen. "-then I'll get it for you."

"No. Between what you gave us and what we can make ourselves, we don't need anything. But many of us have family on Karna. I know you won't risk telling them what happened to us, but we want to know what has happened to them after you destroyed the clan war fleet."

I nod. "Reasonable. I should be able to find Tearing Bite easily enough, but if you have names or.. genealogies you want me to look into I'll need a list."

"Just.. get the central clan records. I'm sure your ring can take a copy without anyone finding out about it."

"Alright. Will do."

I raise my right hand to my forehead,

step out,

and appear next to Lantern Xor. "Everything set up here?"

The other members of his species are… The fact that they can't talk appears to be giving them some difficulty. Xor did think to give them simple typing pads so that the ones who don't know any sort of sign language aren't totally stuck for ways to communicate complex ideas. A couple are fiddling with the robot plough, a few more appear to be taking an inventory and one… Who used to be a military officer, is cutting down trees. Most are standing around or having a weird text argument that looks like it's only a few misplaced punctuation marks from a fistfight.

"Yes." He regards them thoughtfully.

"Having second thoughts?"

"No." He turns his head to look at me. "I am trying to work out whether or not it would dishonour me if they were to kill each other."

I think for a moment. "I don't see how it would. You've given them what they need to survive. They did some things that would be called serious crimes in more honourable societies and they're getting off more lightly than they'd let you get off if your positions were reversed."

"But I have judged them. I have decided that this is all they should suffer, until a court can make a new decision. I have not judged that they should die. It would be dishonourable to pronounce sentence and then change it."

"I don't think it's your fault if they fail to take advantage of the opportunity you're giving them."

"But if one did, and they were killed by one who did not, what then?"

"I would say that unless you deliberately set it up to happen like that, the murderer was dishonourable, their victim dies with honour and you are blameless."

"They are not farmers. If I ordered a recruit to take point position during an attack and they died, I would be dishonoured. It would be my failure to position them somewhere equal to their skills. If I take a position where I have authority, the results of the actions I oversee are my responsibility."

"Alright. You're going to be coming back here, right?"

"Yes. I think that I will add many more dishonourable people to this colony before my work is done."

"There you go, then. You've given them a decent start, and you can check on them to make sure that things haven't gotten too bad whenever you come back. A leader is generally responsible for the things that happen under them, but they can't reasonably be held completely responsible for every little thing. People are people, with their own will. Sometimes they just don't do what you tell them to."

He considers for a moment, then nods. "But if they did such dishonourable things, I would need to reconsider.. this."

"Unless they dealt with the problem themselves."

"Yes. It would please me to see that."

"Anything else you want to do here?"

"No. My War Hounds have turned the ship back towards Alignment space. I am ready to follow your orders."

"Alright. I need to check on everywhere, but I think that Tamaran is the most urgent place."

"Tamaran." His eyes glow for a moment. "The world you rescued."

"I'm sure that King Myand'r and Adam Blake know what they're doing, but as you were saying: I set up the situation. That makes it at least partially my responsibility."

"You gave their world two Lanterns. Why are you not more concerned about the other worlds in Vega?"

"Because Tamaran was closest to being something good. If I can't even manage to work out how to fix Tamaran, then I need to rethink my whole strategy."

He nods.

"Ready?"

He nods again, and we shoot towards the sky.