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

[Mr Zoat]

1st September 2012
15:42 GMT

Diana had better have won.

It's a simple calculation, really. She's not Artemis, but we're unified by purpose. If she's won, then we can use our divine voices to imprint ourselves on the watching Citizens over the crumpled bodies of their domitor and her heir apparent. If she hasn't then I'm about to look...

I look across the arena and see Astarte bound in Diana's lasso, Diana herself looking a bit the worse for wear while Astarte…

I'm not sure what Diana's done there, but she looks… Crushed.

Wonderful!

I-.

"…become something more than the murderers of worlds!"

Oh. I'm interrupting a heroic speech while covered in the blood of the people she was trying to convince. That's not a great look-. But some of the audience are looking at me so I can't really just hide and wait.

So what do I do?

"I see in all of you the potential to be something…"

I tune Diana out of a moment as my mind races.

Okay, so, conceptually, Diana and I can work together just fine. And if I flew out to the centre of the arena right now I'd have about-.

I clean blood off myself.

I'd have about-.

And Theana.

I'd have about four seconds to explain what we need to do to make this work, and convince her to go along with it, and she's already pretty dubious of my intentions. The first thing to do is create construct ropes to bind Theana to create a visual link to her lasso and make it clear that she's a prisoner and not a corpse. Make it so that they prop her up a bit as well.

Okay, if I accept-
I don't shudder.
-a subordinate role, I can reinforce Diana's efforts instead of making my own attempt. It won't work as well as the two of us working in concert and it would deny me any influence over them in-

- future, so…

Damn it.

I fly towards Diana as her vacuously uplifting speech continues, not so slow as to make a production out of it and not so fast as to look desperate or afraid. Diana barely pauses in her flow as she spots me, though I think I detect a mild lessening of animosity towards me as she sees for herself that Theana is still-

She doesn't know who Theana is, does she?

-alive.

I land a short distance behind her, depositing Theana slightly behind Astarte. Astarte's eyes drift to her daughter for a few moment but she doesn't really seem to be taking things in. I do my best to look like Diana's attendant as she gradually reaches the end of her monologue.

"…together, make our civilisation into something great!" Inspire the Soul to Dream.

I make an effort not to sigh. The Iron Hand for the Glove.

"Okay, Diana, what now?"

"Who is this?"

The crowd appears to be talking about things amongst themselves, though there's a definite drift towards the exits. I hope they've taken that speech as the new boss setting out her policy.

"Her name's Theana. She's your cousin. Apparently the only one. Still alive." With the attention somewhat off me, this time I do sigh. "I assume that we're leaving them alive, then?"

"Yes."

"Right, so do you have eyes in the back of your head now? Because I don't know what you did to Astarte, but Theana is planning on killing you."

"I made her have a conversation with her younger self, from when she volunteered to join the Citizenry in my mother's place."

I give her a look of-.

"Do not look at me like that. I did not realise that the effect would be so severe."

"Breaking her will is kinder than killing-." I frown. "Isn't there..? Don't I remember something about Hades having access to water that can erase a person's memories?"

"The waters of the river Lethe can have that effect."

"Can you erase three thousand years? Reset her back to who she used to be?"

"That would destroy who she is."

"And what she is is so valuable? Is she giving you the impression that she likes who she has become?"

She considers her aunt for a moment.

"You don't need to wipe her out completely. Just take everything until just after she left."

"And Theana?"

"Why not hand her over to Philippus for a decade or so? I'm sure that your mother would like to get to know her, and Philippus has experience in wrangling difficult demigoddesses."

Flat look.

"And some of the island's other demigoddesses can keep an eye on her. And you could hand off ambassador duties to Orana like she's wanted you to since the end of the Second World War." I shrug. "Or take her with you. I'm sure she'd be happy either way. Now you've just got to find Four Ears, and then-"

"Lieutenant Zusen."

"-you can-. Her too, and then you can navigate the fleet to an unoccupied planet and start settling down."

She frowns. "Don't you want my help?"

"Yes, of course, but I'm not entirely convinced that your new people can be trusted to obey you and not depopulate Vega."

"And Artemis hasn't finished planting explosives everywhere yet."

I smile, shrugging. "Probably not, but she's an industrious woman."

"I believe that they can be relied upon to follow my commands. If we engage Grayven away from your worlds, the Providers will not be able to reach them even if they are released contrary to my orders. It isn't necessary for-"

My ring blinks.

"-them-."

"Excuse me." I raise my left hand. "Yes?"

"Daddy? We're under attack."

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th Vorhexen 2512
Late Morning

I look as the ship's crew open another crate of scrolls, scan it and then nod as the data enters my consciousness. Ugh. I can deal with the feeling of disconnection between my normal thoughts and the records, but I can't quite get used to how bad the data is.

The crewelves glance at their employer and only then close the chest and take it away.

"I'm not sure this is going to work."

The other male archmage inhales, but Teclis gives him a look and he holds his peace.

"What do you mean by that?"

I wave my left hand, conjuring two construct line graphs. One shows recorded births per year and the other the citizens recorded by the census. I've got data from before the time of Aenarion, mostly from places in Saphery and it's all…

"Look."

There are so many holes in it. Which is perfectly understandable. Ulthuan isn't like modern Britain, where the closest thing we get to invasions is undocumented immigrants. It's not even early modern Britain, where our rivals would at least be cautious. It's more like early medieval Britain, raided and invaded repeatedly by everyone with a fleet. Between Dark Elves, the Norse, Grom the Paunch and -with frustrating frequency- other High Elves setting fire to things, there are huge pieces missing. And that's despite the mists and mobile islands that actively defend the place.

"And this is one of the better ones."

I generate a graph for each set of records I've scanned so far, offsetting each new set slightly to create a three dimensional display.

"I mean, you can see the population drops after Malekith's rebellion and The Great War Against Chaos, but there's nothing here on how much of that was displacement and how much was death. Then there's the gaps where… I'm assuming that records were destroyed?"

Teclis nods.

"Few places in Ulthuan have known no conflict."

"You see my problem. While I can try and work out what was going on during these years… Having seen this, I just don't think that the data I need exists." I sigh. "Do you have records of their diets?"

"None I would consider reliable. I doubt that I could tell you how my own diet has changed since the Great War, much less tell you how the diet of an entire kingdom might have altered."

"And I can hardly grab Malekith's dietician and ask them."

"Do you think diet is likely to be the cause?"

"I wouldn't have thought so, given that your people maintained a population in the Old World without any problem prior to the War of the Beard, but I don't want to rule anything out."

A new chest, another scan, another incomplete graph which… Yes, it mirrors the pattern seen in the others, but that doesn't really help.

"Tell you what: how much of a pain would it be to redo all the wards on this ship?"

"We rework them after every significant engagement. Why?"

"Because I can do this faster if I'm not considerate to your wards. Would you mind?"

"No. In fact, I am more interested to see what else your ring can do."

"Right then."

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Fixing what is broken. Helping my allies. Sorting out problems myself.

I don't think I'm quite getting this. Some of the versions of myself that I met when Krona abducted us could handle the orange light far easier than I can, and I… Didn't really have time to get into a detailed discussion with them.

Progress.

"Scan."

Symbols on the clasps of the chest glow for a moment and then decay in a burst of glitter. Then on the masts and sails, and the three archmages are making warding gestures as the scanned area expands. And there's the data I want and it's…

No.

I shake my head.

"Is there anywhere where I could get better data?"

"Lothern may have more intact records, but I doubt that they will be adequate for your purposes. But I am puzzled: three women in our embassy to Altdorf became pregnant in your care."

"Right, but I couldn't study what could be preventing elf women bringing children to term on women who were already pregnant, could I?"

"Statistically, three pregnancies amongst such a small population is still unusual. What did you do to aid their chances?"

"Nothing. I was just trying to establish a baseline for a healthy elf woman. The only difference between them and other women in the embassy is… The.. fact.. I.. was scanning them."

"Ah?"

"The ring fuels itself by converting power from the winds of magic to orange light. I can recharge it quickly by going somewhere that's soaked in magic, but it recharges constantly from ambient magic energy. There would have been a slight magic drain from their bodies."

"There should have been records on the strength of the winds over most of the span of our history. That is something Saphery has always recorded assiduously."

I nod. "I've got them. Ah." I add a third line to each of the graphs. "There appears to be a correlation, though… This doesn't prove anything, and it doesn't explain what's causing it. What the mechanism is. Do elves who use High Magic have more success in reproducing?"

"No. Nor elves who don't use magic, either. And it can't be that simple. We have tried purifying or filtering the flows of magic on several occasions, to no avail."

"Well, why don't you and your retinue come over to the village and examine some of the locals? I'm afraid that we can't accommodate you in the style to which you are accustomed, but-."

"We have tents and a folding fortress. They will suffice."

"Rightoh." I hold up my left hand and generate a platform with guard rails. "Step aboard and I'll fly us over there."

One of the Swordmasters gets on first and checks the strength of the construct before giving her superiors a nod. They and four more Swordmasters get on board and I lift us off the deck.

"Why were you getting on a boat anyway? You all know Coruscation of Finreir, don't you?"

"Hah!" Teclis glances at his male colleague, clearly amused. "Do we?"

Hm? "I'm… Sorry?"

The man draws himself up slightly. "I am Finreir of Tor Hoeth. I created the spell, but I prefer not to ascend into the heavens on a pillar of white fire when I am on a boat, or near ignorant human-. Peasants."

Oh. Yes. "Ah. I'm sorry, I didn't recognise you. I meant no offence; I only recognised Loremaster Teclis because of his hat." I turn to their female companion. "And before I put my foot in it again my lady, might I ask your name?"

"I am Loremaster Kaleina of the White Tower."

"That's also a lovely name. Where does everyone want to start?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th Vorhexen 2512
Mid-day

Dayrak Rainslick -late of Lord Barblash's reavers- and the leader of the Swordmasters detail stare at each other. The Swordmaster's hands are on the hilt of his sword and his body is tensed to spring into action, while Dayrak slouches at ease with his hands hooked into his belt.

"You know, the humans tell a joke about those who carry greatswords. Particularly those who rub the pommel like that."

Dayrak has taken surprisingly well both to having his priorities rewritten by the orange light and to fatherhood. A disadvantage Aranei had as an early adopter: I didn't entirely know what I was doing when I worked on her, and like a poorly set bone that's left her with a few problems. By the time I got to Dayrak I'd got far better at integrating new desires and diminishing rather than scrubbing antisocial ones. It made me feel less monstrous when I saw that he still had the freedom to question and mock my decisions, because it made it clear that I hadn't just created puppets.

Even if the result was that Aranei wouldn't needle someone to their face like this when I'm trying to forge an alliance.

Teclis regards him curiously.

"From where do you hail?"

"Clar Karond, though it is here that I was…" He looks at me with an expression of pantomimed curiosity. "What is it that the religion of your homelands calls it? 'Born again'?"

It turned out that the violent nature of Dark Elf society caused him to keep his mordantic tendencies under control, lest he provoke someone into stabbing him. With that threat largely off the table he tends to let his tongue run free.

I nod. "Yes, that's what we call it."

Teclis looks to me. "My spies reported that you retained the services of an elf wizard, but I had no idea that the elves you claimed had settled here were Naggarothi. And I feel not a single trace of dhar about them."

"One of the ring's more subtle applications allows me to change people's desires. I encountered a group of Dark Elves raiding this village, and after I took them into custody… I didn't actually want to kill them, so I gave them the chance to volunteer to be 'de-Darked'." Huh. "Actually, that's a possible solution to your population problems. I could raid Naggaroth, repeat the process on those I capture and then transfer them-."

"No." Finreir glares at me. "I do not expect you to understand the depth of enmity between our two peoples, but the suggestion that we could become one once more is obscene."

"That's.. fine, I'll keep them? Ah, anyway, Dayrak, is Klavaella-?"

"NGWAAAAAAAAAHHH!"

Dayrak smiles as he turns around.

"A father's work is never done. But, come! See my daughter."

He strides purposively towards the houses the Dark Elves built for themselves when they decided that even if they did force the human peasants to create something for them, it wouldn't be good enough anyway. As sea-farers, they all had reasonable carpentry skills. I had to fetch slates for the roofing and put my foot down on the issue of the giant blades that they felt needed to be stuck on every corner, but the buildings generally turned out pretty well.

Loremaster Kaleina starts after him before either of her male colleagues.

"I will conduct the examination."

I-. Dayrak is a veteran reaver, but she's a Mage Lord. I'm not really happy with her assuming that she can just walk into his house and start poking his infant offspring, especially considering the fact that I'm the only person on 'our side' who would have the slightest chance of stopping her.

"I-."

Teclis raises his right hand.

"Kaleina, ask them permission. We are here as guests."

I nod. "They don't have any outstanding warrants. Unless you have evidence of a crime for which they have not already been sentenced, I'm going to have to ask you to observe local law."

I get stink eye, but she nods at Teclis before following Dayrak towards his home, one of the Swordmasters in turn following her.

Hm.

"Though that does raise a point. What about their children?"

"It isn't a matter of magic. The divergence between Ulthuan and Naggaroth is cultural and historical."

"And we're not in Naggaroth and they're developing their own culture. By the time they're of age… What are they going to have in common with the elves of Naggaroth that elves from Nagarythe don't have?"

"I would have thought that someone as well-acquainted with dwarfs as you are would understand that centuries of strife do not simply disappear."

"No, because with dwarfs they do if you pay your fines. We might think that they're obsessive about it, but they apply their irrationality in a perfectly rational way."

Teclis chuckles quietly. "I suppose they do have that going for them. Alas, High Elves are creatures of passion as much as-"

"Nay, good sir! 'tis the perfect time!"

"-intellect..?"

I frown as I fly upwards to check-. Yes, Mallobaude's taking advantage of the autumn slow down in farm work to try and train local volunteers as men-at-arms. This is a fairly standard practice in Bretonnia, and it would relieve pressure on the small number of elf professional soldiers and on me if they could handle small numbers of attackers. Or at least contribute meaningfully to their own defence. And then there's the fact that according to Bretonnian custom, a local likely lad should have been appointed Knight Errant by now.

They're not being that enthusiastic. They've basically survived by having nothing worth taking. By not being worth the trouble to drag out of hiding. Getting organised makes them start to look like they're worth coming after.

There's an odd rumbling sound below me, and a moment later Teclis rises up next to me on a pillar of rock with a stone staircase wrapped around it. The whole thing is covered in moss and shrouded in mist, which-. Well, that's magic for you.

Mallobaude grabs onto a teenage boy and corrects his stance, moving his wooden sword into a proper guard.

"The local Knight of the Realm?"

"Technically, he's a Questing Knight. Ah, look, I need to ask a favour."

"Another favour."

"No, the others serve our mutual interest. This is just for me."

He shrugs. "You can ask."

"I'd like for you to arrange for someone to teach my girlfriend High Magic."

He bows his head slightly, shaking it. "I'm sorry, but while humans might in theory be capable of learning to use qhaysh eventually, your species' relatively short lifespan makes it a practical impossibility."

"Ah, good news! She's not human."

He looks at me, and-.

"The.. Dark Elves' sorceress. You're bedding her."

"She was the first person to volunteer to have her mind altered. She was inclined to suck up to powerful figures…" I shrug. "I didn't fully consider the likely consequence of leaving that desire in place. She's still using dhar, but obviously I'd prefer it if she moved away from that. I've bought a few books from the Imperial Colleges of Magic, but…"

"She considers 'human' magic to be beneath her." He nods. "I understand her problem. What do I get out of this?"

"Ah? So mercenary?"

"Why should I ask for less than the dwarfs?"

"Fair enough." I look him over. "I could probably fix your body up, if you like."

His eyes narrow.

"What do you mean by-?"

I hold up my right arm wither it and then cause it to swell with muscle before darkening the skin and lightening it again.

"I know nothing of the precise effects of the Curse of Aenarion-."

"Deal."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st September 2012
15:32 GMT

He's a child.

What?

I look around the Doomsday's bridge. Where did that come from?

I smile. The Military Council did love their ominous names. What was wrong with Large Capital Ship 1? That was what it was called when the Science Council designed it. But the Military Council insisted on individual names. I suppose that I can understand wanting to have something to call it, but couldn't they have made it a natural progression? If they'd named it for Krypton, then the larger support ships could have been named for cities…

It… I suppose it doesn't matter now. And Commander Karsta Wor-Ul won't want to change Military Council traditions, so I guess we're stuck with it.

But Kal-El's

a child. He has not completed the Kryptonian social ritual associated with coming of age

but that's a technicality. We don't call people who go off-world and missed their ceremonies children, they just do it when they get home. Besides, what do you actually learn from putting on a headband and watching someone shoot a caveman with a plasma beam?

He is unfamiliar with Kryptonian culture.

I slump a little. I'd… When Father put me in the pod, I… I thought I'd have to bring Kal up on some planet inhabited by alien barbarians. Instead, the alien barbarians brought him up. And he's

not one of us.

I mean, he seems like a good man, but he's like… Hatu-El or something. Modern El's aren't like that. Unless they have to be, I suppose. There have always been people like that in House El and we have statues of some of them, I just…

Actually, I can see Uncle Jor being pretty happy that he turned out like that. Father would hate it.

Hatu-El was a great man. There is no shame in following his example.

Not in a situation like this. I know perfectly well that all of the Great Houses were 'great' because they did a lot of great things for Krypton, and that there are a lot of ways to be great. That's what the Council system was all about.

Except House El is supposed to be all about science, and the two adult-. Biologically adult members of House El are getting ready to fight, one in a warship and the other in space so that he can punch enemy ships.

Hatu-El would be proud. And so would Uncle Jor-El.

So there's that.

I do another scan of the system with the Doomsday's sensors, and check the feed from the aliens' buoys. The Hny'xx facility must be protected at all costs. Any loss of alien life is acceptable.

But-. Whaw, I'm a lot more speciesist than I thought I was. Maybe Karsta Wor-Ul had a point about people who don't spend time off… Off Krypton.

Krypton will rise again.

Without really thinking about it I check the sensors again and shift the Doomsday's position as an anti-first strike measure. Rise again..? That-. I know I passed all the psychological screening Karsta Wor-Ul did after I got out of the regeneration pod, but I don't think I'm.. thinking like I used to. Like before… I mean, it could just be the psychological trauma, but those pods weren't ever tested in a situation like this. But, who could test it?

No one. My concerns are unfounded. I'm fine. There is nothing wrong with seeking Krypton's resurrection.

But I don't think we can 'resurrect' Krypton with Hny'xx. It's the wrong size, composition, the sun isn't Rao and we've lost so many records… We could take a new planet and call it 'Krypton'. Gray-Ven seemed like he would be happy to make that happen.

The alien is not to be trusted.

So I don't trust him. But that doesn't mean that he won't do it because it's in his interests to help us right now. He didn't have to help Karsta Wor-Ul set the facility up. Besides, the children are being raised by Tamaraneans. I don't think that they're going to want to be isolationist when their mothers and fathers are aliens.

That is not how things should be.

I sigh.

But lots of things aren't how they should be. The Science Council shouldn't have ignored Uncle Jor. The Science Council shouldn't have scrapped the fleet.

Isolation from the alien served Krypton.

But that doesn't mean that pretending the universe doesn't exist will actually make it go away. Karsta Wor-Ul was right; we could have used those ships to evacuate more people.

Or undo the destructive reaction sequence.

Ah... No, actually, that wouldn't have worked. Realistically, they were warships. Even the Doomsday's crystal projectiles wouldn't be able to stop the reaction once it got going. Their sensors might have made confirming Uncle Jor's readings easier, but unless the Science Council supported building more exploration or terraforming ships, I don't think they'd have been able to do anything about it.

We will need ships of those types.

And I'll add that to the list. I-.

I feel it as the Doomsday's sensors detect the Apokoliptian portals… Boom tubes, open on the other side of the Vega Cluster. Since they're in space they don't make any sound, but the gravity waves are quite distinctive. They're appearing in Karna's system. Sensors confirm ships of gordanian design.

Nothing that the Doomsday can't destroy.

Unless the evil version of Gray-Ven improved them. I send alerts to

Commander Karsta Wor-Ul and Kal-El

and then to Vril-Dox, as the Karnan and Imperial ships in that system begin moving to intercept them. Lanterns are hard to scan for, but I'm sure they're there too. I don't know if it's a good plan. I told Karsta Wor-Ul that just because I can operate the Doomsday that doesn't mean that I know anything about warfare outside of the historical context.

"Clarissi Vril Dox to Doomsday. Remain in reserve until the enemy's flagship is sighted. Out."

He recognises the superiority of Kryptonian technology.

That or it could be that he doesn't want to rush all of his forces to a first attack when he doesn't know what else Gray-Ven might have. But… Shields to full, charge faster than light drive, weapons to active. I don't know how useful crystallisation torpedoes would be against ships like this, but prepare them anyway.

Another boom tube opens… Here, they're coming here! Lanterns begin making orange barriers and the Tamaranean ships charge their weapons. I manoeuvre the Doomsday into a slightly better position, but it's really a medium ranged ship so hanging back isn't a sensible option.

"Doomsday to Clarissi Vril-Dox. Boom tube here."

"Understood. Engage at your recognisance."

"Ah, okay? Doomsday to Commander Karsta Wor-Ul?"

"What is it, cadet?"

"There's a boom tube here and

I would like to coordinate with you."

"The Doomsday is death to capital ships. Let the Lanterns deal with anything less than a quarter of your size and focus on them."

Huh. This is weird. I should feel nervous but

I really don't. I'm confident, and I've got a library of records of thousands of battlefields. And they're only aliens.

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st September 2012
15:36 GMT

I feel it as the fleets engage those allied to the pretender, and I feel it -albeit distantly- as those reluctantly gathered beneath my banner begin to die.

Satisfactory.

Sinthia is monitoring the situation by conventional means alone. Her limitations are a mild disappointment to me, but even the more intelligent gordanians are not given to sophisticated research. My scouts indicated that the pretender has not yet been able to access either Auron or X'Hal, so the Tamaraneans aligned to him will not have been able to truly ascend either.

And he is hardly the only man with power rings.

My awareness of the Citizenry dims. They were to be another distraction, but they were unreliable. So long as they keep a portion of the pretender's fleet occupied elsewhere, it is acceptable. And if I am honest I expected little better from a people so filled with so unwarranted pride.

"Transfer the fleet."

"Yes, Lord Grayven. Boom tubes opening."

The tubes open in front of the rapidly moving assault ships. Unlike the ships I dispatched in the first wave, these do not open into extra-stellar space.

No. These will go right into the atmosphere.

I feel it as they fly over the cities on the target world, their passage through the skies marked by exploding windows and eardrums. Ruthlessly they target defence silos and military bases, ordnance that could have disrupted my efforts annihilated before it can be brought to bear.

I cannot help but be puzzled at the pretender's fixation with Vega of all places. For me, assimilating my gordanian clan was a matter of convenience. I made them the core of my force precisely because no one would notice them. Because no one was tracking them or cared what they did. But if I'd had a power ring at that point there are a hundred places I would rather have gone to begin my ascension.

I suppose that I can rip the answer from his disassociated soul.

"Initial attack is meeting expectations. No unexpected resistance."

I knew that, but auditory confirmation is good to hear. When she first entered my service she was barely competent to shine my boots, but now? She serves as a competent second in command.

"Their fleet?"

"Ships are being recalled from the edge of the system and reinforcements are being called in from nearby duchies."

It may be a little premature, but I can't help but smile a little.

"Their command ship?"

"We have the location."

I raise my right hand, palm vertical. Then I drop it forward. Smite Them With My Wrath.

"Opening boom tube now. Shall I charge the hyper blaster?"

"No." I rise to my feet and open a boom tube to the-

Boom!

-upper surface of the Absolute Dominion. "I will attend to this personally."

"Yes, Lord Grayven. Four seconds to complete passage.. mark."

"Good. Maintain fleet awareness."

I step through the tube and out onto the hull. I see the upper circumference of the capital ship sized boom tube aperture pass over me, the stars of one part of the universe replaced by the stars of another. A beautiful sight; a reminder of the freedom I have won and the power at my command.

The battleship before us at relatively short range is only just activating its weapons. Even from here I can see the protective cowling retract and the guns run tests on their gimbals as their master tries to decide what to do.

I widen my eyes slightly, and embrace desolation.

"Be not."

I don't see it, but I feel it as the twin orange beams leap out to unmake anything in their way. Anything that exists, ends, and those things that attract my attention end sooner.

I may not be able to see the beams, but I can feel it when they punch through the shields of the Crown Imperium's flagship before boring through its hull towards its bridge. I can feel it as the ship begins to fall apart around them. And I certainly feel it when they strike the commanding Admiral and reduce him to his component atoms, his soul to wisps of mana and his mind erased forever.

As my vision clears I see the slowly-expanding hole in the ship, and the panicked faces of the bridge crew as they scramble to don their helmets as the air leaks away. I Cause You Loss of Direction.

Now I need but one thing to occur for the opening stage of my attack to be an unqualified success.

I am authority. But the claims of another abut the space my psyche defines as mine. The pretender does not realise it, but his attempts at usurpation give him away.

"Tamaran. He's on Tamaran, his capital and fastness. Do the soldiers who formed the first wave have a precise location?"

A brief pause as Sinthia reviews reports.

"Contact with New Gods was reported. His bodyguards."

"Any record of them?"

"One. Knockout."

I barely remember her from my days on Apokolips, but she struck me as a simple-minded fighter. A Fury, true, but I never believed that Granny Goodness was creating anything beyond dumb muscle. A problem with the more controlling New Gods: they refuse to take the risk of creating someone who could supplant them. Like koross tamers who pluck out the beasts' teeth before displaying them, they cripple themselves as much as their trainees.

Father…

How the pretender managed to-. No. That doesn't matter now, and it will cease to have any meaning upon my final victory.

"Dispatch combat robots. Keep them on him and keep him distracted. The Absolute Dominion will be able to track his location if he retreats. I want him focused on his immediate surroundings until it is time for me to end him."

"Yes, Lord."

The Absolute Dominion rotates and the capital planet of the Crown Imperium burns in the wake of my fleet. Ah, now this is a world from which I can build an empire! An educated population, an existing power hierarchy and an unwed queen. Weak and unstable neighbours whose territory will be the training ground for my armies and fleets!

As if anyone with any sense would care about Vega.

The Absolute Dominion's secondary batteries open fire on Kranaltine's defence stations. They aren't quite powerful enough to destroy them in a single hit, but three hits is an acceptable rate.

I could go down to their royal palace now. They don't have anything powerful enough to stop me. However, the effect of my divine panoply will be greater if I have the pretender clearly defeated when they first see me. And my forward teams should be able to secure my other objective without my drawing more attention to it.

"My lord? The robots are reporting that the pretender isn't there. The New Gods appear to be guarding a small child."

What? Indecision is Death.

"Dispatch Estrogina's team. Bring the child here that I may interrogate them. If he is hiding from me I will have the pretender broken and bleeding at my feet before I grant him the mercy of oblivion."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st September 2012
15:45 GMT

Tu-

Ping.

-be.

BOOM!

"Diana, I'm leaving this with you. Call Earth if you need help."

I step through the tube onto the bridge, Karras glancing around for a moment before returning his attention to the screen. At this point there's not much to do except wait for Dox to tell us where he wants us except that was my daughter.

"Summary."

"Fleets are attacking Karna, Tamaran, Euphorix and our reserve units. Dox is directing us to Tamaran."

I nod. Orange Lanterns will fight much better for their own homes. "And their Grayven?"

"No specifically Apokoliptian ships identified so far."

"Casualties?"

"In space, light on both sides. They're heavier on the ground. They're using boom tubes to perform raids on our shipyards and manufacturing centres."

I'm not too worried about ground attacks. We have Lanterns. Fights between gordanian warriors and Lanterns only go one way.

"No attacks on Hny'xx?"

"No. Not yet."

The children thought it was a game, but putting super hard beams across every part of its internal space made boom tubing into the facility virtually impossible while not restricting the manoeuvrability of the g-elves significantly.

But no other Grayven. Why not? His ability to boost his servants with his god powers would be stronger if he were present, and he wouldn't even have to engage himself. If he's not here for the boost, he'd be better off attacking to maximise the advantage of his dreadnaught and omega effect. The only reason he'd be hanging around would be…

Waiting for me? Waiting for Astarte? I mean, she wasn't exactly rushing…

"Lynne, report."

"They keep opening tubes near me. I dealt with the gordanians but they've been sending robots. Knockout and Persuader are getting annoyed."

They would.

"You've tried relocating?"

"Four times. They're locked onto us."

But… How? There are other New Gods around; that was half the reason I asked Mr. Queen to come here. Three being in one place doesn't mean anything. Spies? Maybe, but there definitely wasn't anyone there when we discussed her fallback locations. Between my rings, our god senses and her telepathy there isn't anywhere to hide. So-.

She feels like me. And, presumably, him. Could he track her based on that?

Could I track him like that?

I could go to her, but she's got boom tube access and… Frankly, Knockout and Persuader are two of my most expendable assets. Every robot-.

"Apokoliptian robots?"

"I think so."

Apokoliptian robots are made to terrorise primitive people, but they're not actually that good against intelligent or well armed opponents.

"Lord Grayven!"

I look up at the screen as a new wave of enemy ships appear, jumping in behind our fleets near Karna and Tamaran. We've gone from local advantage to mild disadvantage, but Dox is already moving ships and Lanterns to counter them. I'd still put us ahead, and there's still no sign of Grayven 2. Assuming that all he has spare is his flagship and its escorts, once we get back we'll have a comfortable advantage.

No. He's me. There's something-.

I call up clan insignias on the ships in the first wave. Tearing Bite, Bloodied Claw, Gizzard Something-Or-Others… Yes, I suspected. Local clans, displaced by Tamaranean ascendancy. He's probably upgraded their ships a little and then released them to pin us down. They have to fight to have any sort of future, and since they're not loyal to him he doesn't lose anything when they die. The second wave have a more uniform clan emblem-.
"Daddy, they've sent golden women. I can't feel their minds, and-. Ah!"

Mother Box, boom tube.

Ping.

Hush tube, then.

Ping.

How did anyone block-? Persuader, Serve My Will.

An axe blade slices through the air in front of me before suddenly being yanked away. I dive through the portal, appearing back on Tamaran and seeing a solidly built woman with golden skin hurl Persuader violently to the ground!

"Stop." "Halt In My Name."

Gold woman turns away from the recumbent Persuader, smiling cruelly at me. Persuader's armour is battered and the left side of her chest is partially caved in.

"Are you our boss or their boss?"

Assimilate her. All Those Who Stand Before Me Die This Day.

Orange beams fly from my ring, slamming into the gold woman's chest. Her smile widens as they achieve precisely nothing.

"Their boss. Ours wants you alive 'if it's not too hard'." She cracks her knuckles. "How hard do you think you are?"

"Hard enough." Empower Loyal Vassal.

I storm forward, not bothering to draw my blade. No idea who this is, but my daiklave hasn't exactly proven reliable against high end targets. Goldie appears to appreciate the sentiment, coming towards me and throwing a right hook. I lean around it and grab her arm, straining to shove it aside to try and get at her neck!

"Idiot! No one overpowers Estrogina!"

She grapples right back, and she's strong enough that I'm not sure that I can win like this, which would be a problem if Persuader hadn't just gotten up with her axe at the ready.

"K-kh?"

Persuader's axe exits the left side of 'Estrogina's' body, having cleaved her in two. The shock causes her grip to weaken, so I thrust my arms forward and grip her shoulders.

"Sever the head."

The axe comes around again, a small amount of blood squirting into my face as her neck parts company with her shoulders. I drop her torso and catch her head, holding my left hand up to her neck hole.

"Assimilate."

Assimilation in progress.

"Where's my daughter, Persuader?"

"They took her, master. The other two."

"Come closer."

She walks up to me immediately, no apparent concern for the fact that most Apokoliptians would kill her for a failure like that. Or that her own injuries might kill her in a moment.

Assimilation complete.

I lay my left hand on Persuader's head and reach out for the other part of my soul. There it is.

"Cut open a portal. Now."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st September 2012
15:48 GMT

Space breaks at Persuader's axe-swing and I fly though without bothering to issue new orders. She's in no shape to fight right now, but there aren't any opponents left where she is. She can soak in a purple healing ray until she looks less like an animated-

Two more golden women, one with Lynne under her arm, are taking fire from heavily armed and armoured gordanians in what appears to be Grayven 16's clan colour. They're not taking cover and their coordination is excellent-. Lynne's controlling them.

-corpse, and then she can join me.

As I watch the gold woman with both arms free charges a squad who appear content to maintain fire without trying to evade their attacker as she raises her fists and smashes down, cracking skulls and shattering ribs! The guns don't seem to be doing anything, but it's costing Grayven 16 resources so I can't complain.

**Daddy, what's the plan?**

The golden woman carrying Lynne glances back at me with a frown.

**Let's try…** I straighten slightly, a sombre expression affixing itself to my face. "Thank you for fetching her. I will take her now."

She ignores the incoming fire and frowns at me. "Are-? Is that Estrogina's head?"

Oh, right. "When I give simple instructions, I expect them followed at once." Respect My Authority.

"Just do what he says, girls."

She doesn't look completely convinced, while her colleague picks up a troop transport shuttle and sends it rolling end over end towards the largest concentration of gordanian soldiers, pancaking them into the deck.

"Where's the rest of-?"

BOOM!

A new tube opens, and… Grayven 16 walks through, hands held loosely at his sides and that is some gaudy armour. Some of the surviving gordanains shift their fire to him, but it doesn't do anything other than make him frown very slightly.

The boom tube closes, and he folds his arms behind his back.

"Pretender." "Disgusting lesser being with delusions of mediocrity. Know that you have written your own fate."

I smile, raising my right hand in greeting. "Hi bruh, what's up!" "Yeah, that was the aim. Why aren't you doing that instead of stealing mine?"

He looks me over, eyes alighting briefly on his henchwoman's assimilated severed head. I on the other hand take a moment to look around. Some sort of launch bay? Looks mostly empty, aside from the soldiers and a few armoured shuttles. I assume that their escort fighters are already outside. Either that or they deploy by boom tube.

I dismiss Estrogina's head, causing it to decay to orange mist and flow into my ring. Ah, Zamaronian synthetic organics. That would explain the ring-proof skin. Grayven hired them as elite fighters by guaranteeing them fights in their weight class. She doesn't know anything about his wider ambitions.

Ring, where are we?

Scans inconclusive.

That's a bother. This does look like an Apokoliptian ship, and those can certainly mess around with power ring scans. Especially with a powerful New God in command.

Grayven 16 has moved from studying me to studying Lynne.

"This child. She is yours?" "There is nothing that you can have that I cannot take away."

"Yes indeed." "I don't have this problem with her other uncles."

"Why?"

"Why?" A stray plasma beam hits my right pauldron. "Ah, Lynne, poppet, could you..?"

I gesture to the gordanians gradually being mashed, and they pause in their firing to put their guns under their chins before firing once more. The rampaging gold woman jogs dejectedly to a halt as her targets slump to the deck.

"Thank you."

"Why do you have..? Her? Why does she exist?" "Why does she feel like us?"

"Esak tried using her as a living Anti-Life broadcaster. I couldn't be having with that. So I got rid of it, and used my soul to restore her." "You might want to try investing in individuals some time."

"Your… Soul." His eyes narrow. "Fraud, my soul is not yours to give away."

"Look, if you're annoyed about both of us existing, take it up with Desaad or something. I don't know why we both exist. The first I knew that you were a thing was when that Citadelian got hold of you." I make a gesture of appeal. "But I don't understand the hostility. You want to fight the Reach? I'll help you fight the Reach. You having trouble with Father-?" Implicit Unity of Purpose.

"I do not believe for a moment that Darkseid is your father."

"You don't see the resemblance?" "You don't feel the resemblance?"

"Appearances mean little. I half-believe that when I cut you down, your face will change to back to that of whatever chimeristic being you truly are." "I feel a trespass."

The gold woman holding Lynne raises her over her head. "So do you want me to keep holding the girl-?"

Other Grayven takes his eyes off me for a fraction of a second to glare her into acquiescence. "Hold."

"You need to train them better, bruh. But, seriously, I get that you don't like me 'diluting your brand'. What I don't understand is why you're prioritising me? You had a good thing going with the Reach. You could have tried to kill me once you'd built up a bit. Or co-ordinated with me until it was just us. I'm sure that our mother would-."

"My mother is dead."

His eyes start to glow with-. Purple light? I wasn't expecting purple.

I shake my head.

"Lady Mortalla is alive and-."

"Mortalla is one of Darkseid's concubines. She is not my mother." His eyes narrow. "So, you are not a duplicate. A true duplicate would know that as I do. Unless you actually are Mortalla's son by Darkseid, in which case I can only see your existence as an attempt to replace me."

Ah. Well, that's what I get for jumping to conclusions. And Mortalla wasn't likely to correct me over something like that, not as she was when she first arrived. She clearly knew Grayven when he was young, so perhaps..? She just thought I was referring to her maternal role rather than literally being my mother?

It seems to me that this man has exactly the same reason as me for wanting Darkseid dead. One last attempt at cooperating…

"Okay, but that doesn't answer my question. Why-?" "We're a lot alike. It would be more efficient-."

"I don't answer to you. I don't justify myself to you, or anyone else. I will rule supreme and alone, and when you are dead your power will become mine without the need for negotiation." "I conquer and take. 'Efficiency' is besides the point when I can replenish my reserves from what becomes mine."

"Well… Darn." I shrug. "Not much I can say to that. If you're committed to being an idiot-."

"I am not the idiot who split his power." The purple glow intensifies. "Do you know the difference between us?"

"I'm not a dick?"

"No. Her."

Purple beams flash out NO!

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st September 2012
15:51 GMT

Garrick.

A construct shield flies out even as I realise that the Omega Effect will go right through it. X-ionised shards shoot at Grayven's face even as I realise that they won't penetrate the beam and that if they do he'll regenerate the damage in moments. I begin running towards… Her? Him? I don't know, I'm just running, the fraction of a second that the Garrick formula can still affect me for feeling exactly like that before my surroundings snap back into normal speed.

Lynne's head jerks around to see the oncoming beams while the golden woman holding her lightly tosses her towards them as she hurriedly backs off.

The purple beams-
HOLD.
-appear to freeze a few centimetres from her face as she glares at it, and I feel her metaphysique combined with her mental abilities try to interface with the idea, with the godly energy of the Omega Force which resides-

BOOM!

-in Grayven and in Darkseid. My shield interposes itself a moment later while Grayven blocks my projectiles with a raised left forearm, his head jerking slightly as he realises that they've actually cut into his skin. I-.

A Tamaranean woman walks up to Lynne and stamps on her, breaking her concentration and causing the purple beam to strike my construct shield and-

It explodes, my shield failing and the deck beneath being left cratered. That's.. weaker than I expected. I lash out at the Tamaranean with a construct battering ram and she-.

Blocks it with a construct of her own.

Construct claws glow around her hands, which are reaching out to rip through either me or Lynne. Lynne herself triggers her aero-discs and tries to fly out of the way, but one of the gold women jumps up and grabs her by the ankles before she can clear the area.

Qwardians are weapon traders, Lantern Grayven.

Two purple death ray drones drop stealth and fire at her. It takes her a second to realise what's happening as her body shrivels, then her environmental shield flares and while I'm not sure if she's blocking it or not it certainly isn't killing her. And-.

Two orange beams leap across the launch bay, each one piercing a drone and disintegrating them. Ugh, I've only got three more in the room, and with Persuader convalescing I don't have a way to get more. Against another Yellow Lantern -particularly one I don't know- I'm in difficulty. I haven't trained intensively in Lantern-to-Lantern combat because I didn't think it would come up that often.

Lynne winces as someone marks themselves as my first target by swinging her face-first into the deck plates.

"Ungh."

I fly at her captor, left fist balled and held forward while my right goes for the Sword of the Fallen at my waist. It's too small to be much use against superstrength brawlers who know it's coming and aren't powered by magic -these Zamoranspawn would just take the cut and keep fighting- but it should at least be able to hurt them.

Lynne glares back in utter contempt. **Unhand me.** **You are unworthy to even touch me, peon.**

"That doesn't work-" The golden woman's hand opens. "-on huh?"

My left fist hits her right in her gormless face and sends her hurtling across the deck and into her comrade. The two of them only stop when they hit-

I go flying as a construct Grayven returns the favour, forcing me to rotate in the air and stab it with the Sword. I try concealing the weapon, but if I'm forced to keep using it like that they're bound to notice eventually.

-the far wall. The Tamaranean woman is taking a position slightly in front of Grayven, floating off the ground with claws at the ready.

And with Lynne around I probably am feeling more fear than she is.

Feeling fear for others requires attachment. People of this sort feel little for few.

But Grayven isn't acting yet. He must know that I'm-.

His eyes glow orange and I just about manage to get a filament into position to drop a potted plant in the way. No explosion this time, just the plant evaporating. That's more like I was expecting. From what I can see of his face Grayven seems mildly surprised, but I thought it was obvious. The Omega Effect ends a life. If it blasts through any defence, then the thing to do is have a life on hand that you don't mind sacrificing.

"Sinthia, take Muliebria and Ovula and activate the Orrery. Lay waste to Vega. I will destroy the pretender." Hear and Obey.

BOOM!

A new boom tube opens, the two golden women throwing themselves across the deck to get into it. Wait, Muliebri-? Really? Sinthia holds back a moment, construct claws at the ready.

No, that's too much. I've been using this ring for long enough that I'm peeved by the idea that she can use it better than me.

I've confronted Darkseid, accepting the fear that comes from being around someone who could extinguish me with a look. Not overcoming, no, he still terrifies me because I'm not stupid, but I was still able to function. I am at one with my fear, neither controlling it or controlled by it.

Gravitons ripple as I gesture, and the boom tube collapses.

Grayven's eyes narrow. "A curious approach; forcing my most capable subordinate to remain behind. But if you wish to be destroyed-"

His eyes glow red.

"-then-"

Sinthia staggers, her glow dimming as Lynne assails her mind. I fly at Grayven, construct cannon forming on my left arm. Since he's a New God I'm not mucking around; singularity projector from the start.

"-I will-"

The beams zigzag through the air as my-.

My singularity beam vanishes as his Omega Effect passes through it before-

Fire again and plant!

-the Omega Beams strike, the left one disintegrating my plant while the second redirects away from my botanical shield and through my construct gun just as the beam hits him. I see his armour and flesh deform even from the brief contact while the beam carries on-.

BOOM.

Grayven grabs Sinthia and falls through the boom tube as Lynne collapses.

"Lynne?"

Lynne's collapsed.

"Lynne?"

The boom tube closes.

"Lynne?"

"Yes-" She picks herself up. "-Daddy?"

"I nearly had a heart attack!"

She frowns at me. "Why?"

"What do you mean, 'why'?"

"You didn't that time."

"You didn't react naturally to being slammed to the deck, so obviously you'd done something." I frown. "I got worried the first time because I couldn't see where you were wearing the Right Eye of Zoltec."

"If people could see where it was they might take it off."

"Alright, but you're still growing. Getting it implanted has risks."

"I know. It's not implanted."

"Oh." … "Let's go and capture the bridge and work out where we are."

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th Vorhexen 2512
Late Afternoon

Loremaster Kaleina watches in horror as Vanda, chief of the beastwoman herd, pulls a plough through a newly drained area of former marshland. A few other members of the herd are working to remove stones or the larger roots, while in the distance still more are hard at work cutting down more trees to clear the space.

"You consort with these creatures of chaos?"

Beastwomen are… Well, there are a variety of builds, much like their menfolk. Their ungor-equivalents could pass as female satyrs… I think. From a distance, at least. I've only caught brief glimpses of satyrs and I rather imagine that attempts on my part to intrude further into Athel Loren would not be welcomed. But most of them are gor-equivalents; they're built like weight lifters and perfectly capable of engaging in heavy farm labour. Which is good, because there isn't much pastoral farming in this part of the world. In Bretonnia, herds are owned by lords who allow their most capable peasants to watch over them, which means that in villages like this there aren't any horses or oxen to pull ploughs or carts.

"I am loath to kill civilians. Amongst the beastmen, their females never raid and rarely pick up weapons. When I slaughter a beastherd, I bring any females I find here."

"Slaves? That is a great risk."

"No. I mean, they're not paid for their labour, but neither is anyone else. This village isn't big enough or well-travelled enough for coinage to be a useful form of exchange. They're members of the community, and share the harvest."

"Do you..? Do you mate with them?"

I smile, looking away. Some of the more slender ones aren't actually bad looking, but the gods of chaos being the capricious bastards that they are… The animal traits aren't regular. Some have goat eyes in otherwise human faces while others go the other way with human eyes and hair fronted by what is clearly a goat or cow face. And the handful that aren't… Even if they aren't violent, I'd still be sticking my penis in a creature of chaos. That would not be a good idea.

"No. Pleasant company though they are, any children sired on them would be beastfolk. Probably beastmen. I'm not sure if beastmen can be raised to be civilised, but there's a good deal of circumstantial evidence which suggests that they can't."

"Why do you keep them?" She still doesn't take her eyes off Vanda as she completes a row and turns the plough. "You could acquire the finest farm animals the human lands have to offer."

"I could. But you see… I really hate the Gods of Chaos. Knowing how they touch this world fills me with disgust. I want to undo all of their workings, large and small. Beastmen are creatures of chaos. Creatures created from the raw stuff of chaos who've achieved a degree of stability without giving up that inherent link to the stuff."

"I know more of the wiles of chaos than you, human."

"The Chaos Gods prize mortal servants above their daemons because mortals must choose to damn themselves. Every one tempted into damnation is a victory for them, even if the newly damned achieves nothing with their life. How would it be if we could turn the tables?"

"To purify daemons? Imp-"

"No."

"-ossible. What, then?"

I wave my left hand, a cross section of assimilated daemons appearing.

"Daemons have nothing about them that isn't chaos. Beastfolk do."

Strange lights glimmer in her eyes as she studies my pawns.

"I've tried using the orange light to purge them, but empty vessels is all I end up with."

"Does your orange light have no.. intelligences with it?"

"One, a tremendously powerful elemental. I'd rather not draw her attention." I return my attention to Vanda. "They live in peaceful simplicity, they work hard and keep themselves clean and healthy. Every few months a wandering priest of Taal gives them religious instruction. They've done as much as they can do by practical means to redeem themselves from their bestial state."

"It is insufficient. The taint of dhar is still upon and within them."

I nod.

"I know. My great hope is that a breed of beastmen can be created who use ghur in place of dhar, and so steal their entire kind from the dark gods."

"A ludicrous notion."

"Yeah, well, elves used to think that teaching humans magic was a waste of time, and now look at us."

"Then why do you not invite an 'Amber Wizard' to study them?"

"It.. turns out that 'Amber Wizard' and 'study' don't really go together."

The Colleges of Magic are mostly set up to create battle wizards for the armies of the Empire. And they do a good job of doing that. But that's… Most of what they do. Oh, Gold wizards often have a line in alchemy and Celestial wizards will do predictions on any number of topics, but… Pure research is unusual, particularly for Jade and Amber wizards who aren't all that fond of 'buildings' or 'people'.

The last Amber wizard I spoke to barked at me until I went away. I'd like to think she was joking, but… She wasn't.

"Look, are you on board with the whole worldwide network idea?"

"It is.. a.. logical extension of the work we elves of Ulthuan have already completed."

"Are you in favour of it because you want to see the rest of the world become a little more like Ulthuan, or are you doing it for the same reason I am: to deny this world to the chaos gods?"

"Ultimately, to deny the world to the Chaos Gods. Though I am most interested in denying them Ulthuan."

I shrug. "And I'm mostly interested in denying them this village. I don't expect you to favour other people above your own, just to have the good sense to recognise when our interests align and not refuse to cooperate when cooperation would be most effective. Because -let's face it- if you could completely protect Ulthuan by giving them the rest of the world, your people would have done it by now."

"As would yours."

I tilt my head to the right for a moment.

"Some would. I wouldn't. Because I don't give the chaos gods things. Even a moral victory. A boon won through their favour is a boon they can take away in an instant. And when this world is secure against them I will travel to the next and secure that as well. And then the next, and the next, until they cannot touch the materium at all."

"So you are a madman."

"Oh? Did the High Loremaster hold a knife to your throat to get you to come here?"

"Of course not."

"Then who's madder? The madman, or the madwoman who follows him?"

Her eyes narrow.

"Human, you try my patience."

"You're not here to do me a favour. You're here because you want something, and I assume it's to test the plausibility of the worldwide network."

"No, I'm here because I want to have children, and High Loremaster Teclis needed someone who could test the viability of your technique."

…

"Oh. Ah, okay. When do you want to start?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th Vorhexen 2512
Evening

"That…" Teclis shakes his head. "Is not it."

Kaleina is doing something magical, but because the manipulation of the winds of magic isn't visible until they're formed into a spell unless you're a magician yourself I'm not seeing anything.

I sigh. "Look, we knew it wasn't stabilisation or reduction. You told me that."

"And I would doubt that your ring could manage something in that regard that High Magic could not, but if your ring is a device wrought by the Old Ones then it isn't impossible. I do not expect to solve the problem of millennia in a single day. Kaleina, were you able to learn anything of note from the Dark Elves?"

"That I was mistaken when I thought that I could have no new way to hate them."

On the opposite side of the room, Aranei shifts awkwardly.

"All of those I examined were physically healthy. I could detect no sign of the Lantern's orange light, but also could detect neither any significant dhar residues nor the taint of Slaanesh."

"I altered their minds and souls. The structures I build are made of the same stuff as what is there anyway. Changing how parts of their brains are wired doesn't change the chemical composition of their brain matter."

Kaleina rolls her eyes. "You really don't understand anything about magic, do you?"

"It's true that I can't use magic." I smile at her, and generate six inverted 'A' constructs in the air around her. "But I get by."

I spot Kaleina's pupils dilate as she recognises the rune and see her fingers move as she attempts an unbinding, but as they're not actually runes nothing happens. After she has enough time to realise that, I pull them back into the ring.

"Kaleina, Lantern, that does not help us."

Teclis sounds a little irritated, and… Yes. That looked like I was effectively waving live grenades at her. I shouldn't have done that.

I nod, then bow my head slightly towards her. "Loremaster Kaleina, I apologise. That was a needless escalation on my part. Though I should point out that those weren't actually Runes of Immolation, since I can't channel the winds of magic at all."

Teclis raises his eyebrows very slightly, then turns to Kaleina and raises them a little more.

"Your apology is acceptable."

Teclis closes his eyes for a moment, then looks at me. I shrug.

"It's not total magic and it's not throughput. Could it be..? Highs and lows?"

"In what sense?"

"How much the strength of the winds changes over the early part of the pregnancy? I still don't know enough about what elf genes do to understand how genetic expression works in your species, but I know that human wombs will spontaneously abort foetuses which somehow register as non-viable. And that the mechanism can sometimes go wrong. I don't… Have good data on what happens with human mutant foetuses, but none have been born around here since I arrived."

"There are no mutant elves, so there is nothing to which we could compare whatever information you gained."

"No mutant elves?"

"I am not counting the Curse of Aenarion, as that is more akin to a spell bound to Aenarion's line."

"No, I mean… Elves have fought beastmen before, and they habitually rape any women they come into contact with and don't immediately kill. I assume there have been a few elf women who've given birth to beastmen."

Teclis bows his head slightly. "You are most likely right, but the lives of such unfortunates are not well recorded."

"No records at all?"

Kaleina shifts uncomfortably in her chair. "Ulthuan is clear of such creatures, as unlike the humans we do not bear such monstrosities by chance and they have no skill at sailing. The savages of Athel Loren may have better records, having as they do more contact with them. Or you could ask your witch."

She doesn't look at Aranei as she says it, but Aranei draws herself up.

"We do not have beastherds in Naggaroth either, nor do we birth them. What a revolting idea."

How to put this..?

"Aranei, Naggaroth has a sizeable Slaanesh-worshipping religion."

"The Cult of Pleasure is a minor group that only exists at all as a favour from Witch King Malekith to his mother. And they do things that are actually pleasurable. They don't mate with beastmen."

And then she looks uncertain.

"I… No. Where would they even get them? And summoning and binding daemons would be easier… No."

"But they don't have any mutations either, despite performing daemon magic?"

"I can't imagine them failing to smother mutant children in their cribs and then burn the remains if such creatures were born, but I have heard no accounts of such things."

"But…" I turn to Teclis and Kaleina. "There's definitely a link to dhar build-ups and mutations in humans?"

He nods. "Yes, that is easily provable."

"So why not in elves? It's not because of qhaysh use, because the Dark Elves certainly aren't using that. It can't be because of exposure to the winds of magic, because while Naggaroth doesn't have a Great Vortex they are close enough to the north pole that they have significantly elevated levels when compared to the rest of the world."

Kaleina straightens slightly. "You think that our wombs destroy mutated foetuses early in pregnancy. So early that we are not aware that we have fallen pregnant."

"It might be more than that. They might be blocking fertilisation in some way, so that conception can't happen."

Teclis nods slowly. "Elven bodies are generally better at handling magic than humans. Humans who use dhar in quantities common amongst Dark Elf sorceresses would be visibly altered even if they were able to avoid outright mutation."

"Could it be..? Flux? Not… Whether the flow of the winds is high or low in absolute terms, but in how much it shifts? And… I suppose for father and mother?"

Teclis's gaze grows distant.

"I can't call to mind any investigation into that. Any… Elf woman who was shielded from the winds of magic would be experiencing a far lower level of exposure than she had for the rest.. of her life. Elevated… Would be no better. If her womb were responding to that and preventing conception as an anti-mutation measure…" He shakes his head. "It fits the observable phenomena, but I can't say that it's true."

Kaleina frowns, but in curiosity rather than frustration. "How would your ring impact that?"

"If elf bodies have a record of historical exposure to the winds of magic, there's a good chance that the ring would reset them just.. because I didn't know that it was supposed to be there. If I'm resetting it to zero and then absorbing enough magic to keep it there, then their body wouldn't think anything was wrong."

"Will the elf women in Altdorf miscarry now that you are away?"

"I don't know. I'm checking back twice a week-. I'll increase that just in case. Is this something we can investigate?"

Teclis nods. "I believe that we can. If only to eliminate the possibility. If this works, all elf-kind will be in your debt."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. We could have a long way to go before we can prove it. Though I suppose that this gives you another reason to work on the global network; if we can stabilise-."

"Stabilise the flow of magic worldwide then we won't need special measures." He smiles faintly. "It seems likely that we will be spending a good deal of time together."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st September 2012
15:56 GMT

"But why did he leave?" **Come Over to the Winning Team.**

The nearby gordanians of what turns out to be called the Endless Conquest clan switch from 'caution-intruder' to 'caution-boss' mode, making gestures of respect and deference to me before returning to carting materials to repair the smashed up transport bay down the corridor.

"He believes that you are dead and that I am therefore weakened. But I got a solid hit on him before he left and our god powers mostly relate to strategic manipulation. Which means that even if my metaphysique was weakened due to losing you-"

I take a quick look around and confirm that no one is looking. Then I pick Lynne up and hug her to my chest.

"-I could still kill him by conventional means and then rest and recover. I love you."

"I love you too Daddy, but you should put me down."

"Bah, who's the god-king here?" I've got a rough idea of the ship's likely layout, but Grayven's lingering presence is preventing me from commanding it and I can hardly ask the crew.

"You're more like a god-president, like they have in Europe where the president is just supposed to make sure that no one's being too stupid while the prime minister runs the government."

"Apt." I put her down, smiling fondly. "Does this mean that you want to get involved in the family business when you graduate?"

"I don't think I could do anything else."

"Oh? Do I have to punch my father in the soul again?"

"My god powers let me make sense of groups of people without trying to read all their minds. What other jobs let me use that?"

"Anything in management. Retail. Local government. State government. Federal government."

"I thought American government was all about preventing anyone having too much power."

"Yes, but the US Constitution was written before telepathy and magic were well understood. I'm fairly sure that you could bypass checks and balances even without my help. Ah, or help them adapt to that oversight as an unelected advisor."

"Hm."

Ping.

Yes, but he'll almost certainly have remodelled a bit. Those ships were designed to be run by Lowlies and multiple New Gods, not one New God and a multitude of aliens. He would have had to make the design more rational.

Ping.

It's what I'd have done. Those old ships were a bit of a mess if you forgot that they were built on the assumption that the people on board were supernaturally good at certain things and so didn't need certain systems. I try reaching out-.
Not Authorised in My Domain.
"Shouldn't we have run into someone important by now?"

"Someone with decision making power will be on the bridge. But gordanian military leaders will be on other ships, and civilian leaders will be wherever he's keeping their civilian population. Probably habitation ships, mining vessels…"

"What about senior officers?"

"Who's the fourth highest ranking Orange Lantern?"

"Ah…"

"It goes me, Dox, Komand'r, and then..?"

"I don't think you told me about anyone else."

"Because the three of us are the only ones with command authority. Primitive militaries need complex hierarchies of authority to get anything done. I'm a New God and Dox is an organic computer. Grayven might have non-commissioned officers and clan officers and officials…"

"But they're not important to him, because he instinctively knows who the best person for the job is and so does everyone else because they're under his power. Which works fine until he dies and there's no one to take-." She frowns. "So he should have killed you and taken control of me, because then I'd be a loyal second in command who could carry on his work. Why didn't he?"

"He didn't know about you, you're a bit of a handful, and he doesn't really care about what he's building. It's part of him, not a thing in itself. If your head gets cut off, it doesn't really matter what shape your feet are in."

"But aren't both of you the same?"

"He didn't have my second life. He went straight from Apokolips to this, while I got the advantage of a normal life. For a few decades."

"What if you didn't?"

"I'd probably have ended up the same."

"No, I mean… What if you didn't escape? What if he did something and made you just appear on the other Earth?"

I carefully avoid thinking anything about that.

"Or maybe he's the pretender. Humans can't be the only species who can be Awakened. If he made himself look like you and then got Awakened, he could pretend he was you." She looks up at me. "Would that work?"

"It m-. Oh look, a door!" I take Mother Box off my harness and tap her against the control panel. "Let's see if we can find a map or something."

The door splits, sliding left and right into the walls. And it's another launch bay, because of course those would all be in the same part of the ship. Given that we're against the hull here I could blast my way out… Maybe. But I don't want to give Grayven a reason to prioritise me, or attract undue attention.

"Navigation computers." I send beams of orange light into the waiting craft, ignoring the confusion of the gordanians preparing the landing craft. "They'll have to have our location loaded on them. I don't suppose that these fellows know where we are, do they?"

Lynne's eyes shimmer for a moment, and the gordanians go back to their work. **Above Your Concerns.**

"No. The other Grayven had good operational security."

Ah! Snagged one. And…

Ping.

An outside line! How nice. Call Duke Oswin and get me our current location.

Call in progress. Location not found. Local navigation data located. Extrapolating.

Oddly.. industrial. There isn't anywhere in Vega like-.

"Kranaltine. He's attacking Kranaltine. But without his direct aid we'll butcher his fleet, that doesn't make sense."

Someone on Oswin's end sends an acknowledgement.

"Grayven! Good to hear from you."

"Oswin! I'm chasing down Other Grayven. How are you managing?"

"Going well until a minute ago, when stars and planets started flying at each other. Any idea what's going on there?"

"Orrery. Oswin, is there anything on Kranaltine called 'The Orrery'?"

"Yes, there are display pieces in various museums. Is this really the time for sight-seeing?"

"Grayven's here with a dreadnought, and from the lack of shaking I don't think you have a home defence fleet any more. I'll get him, but he's here for something called 'The Orrery'. Where were your people's first settlements?"

"The-. The northern continent, around the coast."

"We'll try there. Grayven out."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st September 2012
16:00 GMT
Open, We Command You. / **Open, We Command You.**
This generation of Apokoliptian warship uses individual deployment chutes for its small craft, so making the thing go was just a matter of boarding and then forcing the ship's… Metaphysique, to think for a few moments that I'm actually Grayven.

And as the dropship we're in shoots out of the mothership I smile at our success, all the while waiting for the moment when we get far enough away that I can start using my own New God technology because I think I'm going to need it to get to wherever Grayven ended up in time to…

I get a good look at local space, and it doesn't look good.

Destroyers and cruisers are flying in Kranaltine's skies, and I mean its skies and not low orbit. There are occupation fleets drifting around each of the major settlements and a few more ready to act as reserves. A smaller number of large ships remain outside of the gravity well, and from the flashes of light I don't think that the engagement is going well for whatever ships the local defenders have left.

Flashes pass overhead as Grayven's flagship lends the attackers its aid. Blasters. With that number, it would be…

Oh. A fully reconditioned Apokoliptian dreadnaught. The hyper blaster on the front would destroy anything in the defensive fleet. This is…

I mean, on the plus side, the fleet engagement here is already lost, we're not getting hit because we're showing a friendly signal and profile and we're not wasting further resources against a ship that we couldn't beat. And since Grayven doesn't have any other New Gods with him, if I win this there's a good chance I'll be able to keep the ship. Which would be nice, but probably won't actually let me beat anyone I actually need to beat…
And then it's like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.
"Grayven to Karras."

"Karras here, my lord. What news?"

"He's hit Kranaltine. Link up with the nearest Imperial fleet and prepare to jump in. Do not do so until I take possession of their dreadnaught or it will wipe you out."

"Understood. Karras out."

"Grayven to Artemis."

"Hey. I think Diana's on her third speech."

"You know where Kranaltine is?"

"Yea-? That's where he went? Why?"

"Ancient artefact called The Orrery. He's using it to control planetoids within the Vega Systems. Someone hid it here and Grayven already knows it's-."

"I'll come look." "On the hunt."

"Thanks, but don't fight Grayven. If I don't overcome him myself we might not be able to turn it off."

"Right."

Okay. Ring, access historical-.

My vision goes gold as a tremendous energy blast rips through-

Armour!

-the dropship, cutting through one side of the hull and out of the other! Who just-? Through the open hull of the dropship I see a figure; blue costume with a yellow star on the chest, carrying a wooden shepherd's crook. Prince Gavyn. Starman.

He briefly makes eye contact with me through his goggles-. Yes, of course. He's too small and agile for them to track accurately with anti-air fire, but at this point the rest of their military would be neutralised-.

"Starman! Hold-."

Another bolt of golden energy slams into my shield as Lynne grabs a space helmet. We're just about inside the atmosphere, but I wouldn't want to try breathing normally up here.

"You're shooting the wrong Grayven!"

"Am I?" He flies closer as the wreckage of our dropship hurtles towards the planet. "You said he was coming for you!"

"He's here for something called The Orrery, and a few minutes ago was the first time I heard of it. Vega's-"

I take an updated map from the Orange Lantern Corps' network, showing the changing position-. Shit. Four suns have already been slammed into one another, and Liot'r is moving towards a nearby blue giant. Orange Lanterns on-site appear to be dealing with the side effects, but it's going to take a lot of work to make Vega shipshape again.

I conjure a construct to demonstrate.

"-being torn apart. I've got a fleet coming in and I'm pretty sure that I can take Grayven myself, but if we don't find where he is now it's going to be a pretty quiet victory feast. Does Kranaltine have any ancient ruins or archaeological sites?" "Help me help you."

"It…" He's not happy, but he drifts closer with a thoughtful expression on his face. "There are a few such sites. Mine isn't the first species to settle this world. But… They've been gone over a thousand times by archaeologists. There's nothing else there now but rubble."

That fits the profile, but…

"No one location stands out?"

"I'm not an archaeologist."

Yeah, that's fair. The dropship starts burning around us, so Lynne triggers her aero-discs while I use my ring's flight function, letting it tumble towards the planet's surface without us.

Okay.

I narrow my eyes and try to feel where his influence is spreading. Ships, no… What is he claiming? Where are his weapons?

Agh, no good. He's claiming this entire world; a shallow but all-encompassing claim which makes it all a part of him-.

"Gavyn, where's the queen?"

He doesn't answer.

"Gavyn, he and I are gods of conquest. He's defeated your military. If the queen orders the world to cooperate until a relief force arrives, if he completes his conquest of this world, his powers get stronger."

"In a sealed bunker under the capital. Even Grayven's forces will take time to get through five different types of force fields and about two miles of granite."

"Can you talk to them and make sure she's still there?"

He nods and raises his staff. A moment later an illusory image of… A fortified room filled with corpses, appears.

"Not boom tube proof. Sorry. Does she have a tracking implant?"

Gavyn twitches as he dismisses the image. "No."

Okay, this is… I can use my powers to feel Lynne's location and Artemis's rough location, but that's because we're spiritually connected. Grayven and I aren't, we're just similar. Would that work?

One way to find out.

Feel The Flow Of Authority.

Come on you literal bastard.

Many Kings Spoil The Realm.

I know you're the sort who will want me to know that I've failed before you kill me, and if I can't find you then you'll never have that satisfaction.

Throw Down The Gauntlet.

BOOM!

Pick Up the Gauntlet.

Hu-?

"Daddy!"

The boom tube snaps shut behin-.

Duh!

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st September 2012
16:04 GMT

I get a half-second look at a room filled with a glowing something before all I can see is Grayven's-

Bff! A Duty, Not a Joy.

-fist which sends me flying across the room and into a wall!

Lip damp, nose probably broken. Armour!

"No."

Eyes flash purple and the construct's gone and I try to raise my arms defensively and-

Grgh! Dah!

My vision swims as the Grayven-shaped blur lunges at me! I trigger my aero-discs and flail across the floor just ahead of his stamping boots! Armour!

"No."

AAGH!

I'm breathing unsteadily, staggering back as Grayven jabs-. And by pure chance I manage to block, his fist deflecting off my right bracer. I attempt a counter, but he easily evades and if my vision wasn't so blurry I think I'd see him smiling.

Alright, singularity-.

"No."

Purple beams lash out and my construct's gone and my armour's baked.

Sinest-?

"Learn." He grabs my left arm and tugs me towards him. "Self." Two punches.. to my face… "Reliance." The Strong are Strong Alone.

Snap.

YAAAAGH!

Left arm broken braced it.

"No."

Radion blaster.

The -graaagh- Omega Effect beam hits and the remains of the armour protecting my left arm vaporise, melting skin and muscle beneath, but I shoot with my right hand!

"AhH!"

Grayven swats, smashing the blaster to pieces even as he tries to shield his eyes. If… Ah… If I'm lucky I blinded him. I… Focus, focus. Draw Sword of the Fallen, move… Move towards him, stab-.

He catches my wrist with both hands, his eyes bleeding but still working.

"Weak." "Pathetic."

He twists my arm and then hits-. Shit! I lose my grip on the Sword and he -oof!- kicks me away before catching it.

I stagger back, trying to work out how he's going to come at me next. Restore My Majesty.

"This? What is this?" He turns the Sword from side to side as he look at it. "A hold-out weapon? I expected better." My Sole Dominion.

He tosses it aside before coming at me again. Not rushed-. Not rushing, so maybe his eyes are more hurt than it looks. Brace arm and armour.

The construct appears, but it's translucent. I don't know why, I'm genuinely fearful.

"N-."

Grayven's face glows purple, and he covers his eyes with both hands.

"Agh!"

"Nnnnuuurh!"

I charge and slam into him while he's distracted, his hands weakly striking at my head and shoulders as I keep my head tucked in, keeping going until he hits a wall. I form a fist with my right hand and punch him in the abdomen where his armour looks weakest before pulling back-

The skin is gone from around his eyes, the bones of his cheeks visible through the rents in his flesh. His eyes look deflated, but he can still glare at me.

-and punching him across the jaw.

His head turns with the blow, but I don't think he's taken any real damage. Okay, ah, x-ionised knife… Or… Where did the Sword end up..?

Focus, Lantern-

Grayven's head reorientates on me, hands reaching for my head! In The Land Of The Blind, I Will Be King!

-Grayven.

I stumble back… Aero-discs! I trigger my-.

Grayven jumps, hands clasped together to uhgh! To hit me back into the ground. I Will Break You!

Knife knife knife knife! I get it into my hand as he comes closer, trying to increase the power to my-.
Weight of Worlds.
A hit to my chest as he jerks his head back to avoid my stab. My construct sort of survived, but the fact that I actually felt it-. I slash at his hands but I only manage to nick him before he grabs my wrist, grinning as he pushes my knife towards my face in a test of strength. Knife in the other hand and stab.

"Ragh!"

It punched through his wrist armour, flesh and bone but now it's stuck-.

"Agh!"

I step back as he manages to slice my knife through the right side of my jaw.

Behind him I see Sinthia frantically blocking arrows that seem to come from nowhere while a great model of Vega's stars and worlds rotates between us.

Grayven pulls the knife out of his wrist and checks the motion-. He can still move it. I'm not-. I'm not going to beat him in a straight fight. Where did the Sword-?

Hrukk.

Knife… Punched through my neck.

I clamp my right hand around my throat as my reinforcements gutter once more.

I'm losing.

I could die.

I think if I'd taken less hits to the head I'd be more scared.

Need to change…

Can't think.

Grayven grins, his blinded eyes shining faintly-.

I don't have any better ideas. Hope this works.

I lunge forward, arms outstretched. He cuts my arms but I accept the wounds, grasping for his eye sockets!

The Power Is Mine! The Power Is Mine!

"No!" The Power Is Mine!

Purple light-.

1st September 2012
16:06 GMT

I stumble for a step, then hesitantly raise my right hand to my face. The pretender is.. gone, and my injuries are healed. I am not sure what happened to.. him, but that is an issue for later.

I turn back to the Orrery, where his huntress is standing in shock while Sinthia uses her ring to seal her wounds. I think I recognise-.

Yes.

"Artemis. Your master is dead. Kneel, and be spared."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st September 2012
16:07 GMT

Worlds… Chained.

That's what I want. What I need. Why using the Orrery felt so natural, and why I could find it where these primitives could not. Some ancient god built this mechanism to more easily control its creation, and now it is mine. Arms connecting orbs which both represent worlds and in some sense are those worlds. Bound together by a single will.

I'm not Darkseid. I don't want other people to be part of me. I want them subservient. I don't want to look upon my creation and feel fear at the sight of my reflection. I want to look upon my creation and see the ordered universe set in motion at my will. I want to feel satisfaction and the elegance and efficiency.

Apokolips was a pit. The more I saw of it, the more I hated it. Which was undoubtably why Father made a point of showing so much of it to me.

"How did-?"

The pretender's agent looks stunned, and without him interfering… I can dimly feel her, their relationship… Not an agent. I think he… Is this..? Love? I have no direct experience with it, but their bond is clearly not the domitor-subservient relationship that I'm used to.

I walk slowly towards her feeling out the hole in her metaphysique left by the pretender's absence. She feels strong, and their relationship stable. She can't be a Fury; Granny would never allow one not emotionally stunted to be deployed with a New God of any significance. Where is she from?

"He was inferior. He no longer exists."

I must discover for certain what happened, but it is not of primary importance. And I will do that alone-

Ping.

-and not-.

I look down at my waist, where a Mother Box is attached to my belt. His Mother Box, but from the feel of its spirit it will work for me just as well.

Puzzling.

I do.. not remember any instances of one New God killing another of the same nature and having anything like this happen. The orange avaricious light of his power ring interacted in some way with the Omega Force residing within my soul.

"No! That can't-. I can still feel him!"

"You feel me. Our metaphysiques are near identical. I am not sure what your bond was, but-" Sinthia readies herself for action, but I still her with a gesture. "-I will soon occupy his place in your life."

Her initial horror fades a little as the shock wears off.

"What's this-" Her eyes flick for a moment to the Orrery. "-thing for?"

"Controlling the Vega systems. You are aware that it is not a natural formation."

"Too many systems too close together, and too many habitable planets. And then there's the moat."

"Just so. Some ancient species arranged things so, and this is a relic of their work."

Though now that the pretender is dead, the destruction of his nascent empire in Vega is no longer necessary. Indeed, it may be counterproductive, especially if the Controllers take advantage of the situation in order to take full possession of the Orange Central Power Battery. By My Will, Be Still.

The Orrery responds, the movement of the arms and the spinning of the spheres slowing. I will rearrange the interior later when I have their compliance.

I feel the comparative lack of resistance due to the pretender's absence. A moment more and I.. connect to what he built. The patterns of devotion and loyalty. Strange, but still compatible.

"How old are we talking here?"

"My Father did not yet rule Apokolips. Sinthia, fetch the queen. She has an accord to confirm."

"Yes, my lord."

Sinthia leaves, the space around the Orrery itself distorting as the device makes an allowance for an object that has no equivalent in the Vega Systems themselves.

"Sending your bodyguard away." She raises her bow slightly to remind me of its presence. "Risky move."

"Not really. Your love for the pretender is now mine. Your soul and mine are meshing even now. Soon, you will not be able to separate us in your mind. Even now, you hesitate."

"You're not him." She frowns. "Or… Where did his body go, anyway?"

The disadvantage of strong servants is that they're not weak. A Fury would bow at once, but she maintains a sense of herself. Since she has, I suspect that an honest answer would serve me best. It is what she would have received from the pretender.

"I do not know."

"You kinda look like him."

"He was pretending to be me. Naturally, he would look like me."

"No, it's more than that. Your armour's more like his than it was a moment ago, and the bits of your face where you got hurt… I think they're his."

She believes that we have merged? I know of no records of that occurring, but only Father and myself have used the Omega Force. I truly do not know what could occur when two New Gods with the same God Name are involved. Given how closely he copied me, it is entirely plausible that he could have integrated it as I have.

"And you've got his Mother Box and his rings. Shame about the personality."

No, more than that, I appear to have acquired his ridiculous sword as well. And his rings. Could-?

Lantern Grayven, I would appreciate an-.
Clothing Is To Be Worn, Not Heard.
"What exactly is the difference between him and you?"

"I won. My fleet is stronger, my planning better, my metaphysique more potent."

"Yeah, but in terms of what you want to do. If you want me to work for you, I'm gunna need to know that stuff."

"You do not. You need to know how to obey."

"Sure, you're all about being in charge, but I'm gunna have to decide things on my own sometimes, right?"

Not unreasonable. I have chosen to leave many gordanian social structures intact simply due to efficiency concerns, and it is helpful that I can predict their actions based on those habits.

"From what I have learned, I am more authoritarian. I do not tolerate alternate sources of authority in my domain. No lesser kings, no nobles with hereditary titles and no democracy. Authority flows from-"
Hunter's Eyes.
"-me."

Something about that made me less able to feel her, and her expression is changing.

"Thanks. 'cause now I look real close, I can see the differences."

"Good. That will be helpful-."
Arrow Of Collegiality.
There's an arrow in my chest, and… Total autocracy is impractical in an empire of any size, what was I-?

"And that tells me where to shoot."
Arrow Of Fellowship.
Another in my arm. She's bypassing my armour. Ring, obey me!

I think not.

I stare-. No, this is Artemis, I'm not going to-.
Arrow Of Diplomacy.
An arrow appears in my left leg as I run towards her.

"Grayven was kind of an ass, but he was better-"
Arrow Of Uplift.
"-than-"
Arrow Of Self-Depreciation.
"-you."
Arrow Of Humor.
NO-!

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st September 2012
16:11 GMT

I…

"Uuuugh."

What… Happened..?

"Are you you, or do I gotta shoot you again?"

'Do I got'-?

My face creases up. "Please don't use grammar like that around my children. I want them to-."

I feel pressure on my broken-. No, not broken? Arm, as Artemis pulls me up. I Am Sworn To Carry Your Burdens, Apparently.

"I'm sure it woulda been real clever, but you need to pretend to be the other guy when Sinthia gets back with the queen."

I regain my feet and focus my eyes… Yes, eyes working, body… Not in any sort of pain and I should be. I feel a momentary impulse to check my wounds and face, but suppress it. The other Grayven wouldn't-.

"Can you make a fake body, really fast?"

"Why are there arrows sticking out of my-?"
Clean The Carcass.
I frown as the arrows sticking painlessly in my body in various places vanish. "You know I hear that, right?"

"Focus, Grayven."

"You know that's not actually my name? I just faked it to steal stuff from the Forever People, and then this all happened."

"What?!" She blinks in astonishment, but recovers. "No. No, not-. Not urgent, but you're going to be explaining that later."

"Sure thing, Artemis." I smile at her. I'm really lucky to have her. "I'm happy to share anything with you."

Her face falls. "I think I might of shot you too hard."

"Have shot-."

"Body!"

Ah… Right. Ring, I need a reasonable facsimile.

By your command.

Light strobes out of my ring, building up a fake body on a section of the floor. It's not biological and it won't pass any sort of investigation and… It's taking longer to do this than it used to.

Wait, I-.

"What?"

"I remember arriving here. Ah, and activating the Orrery. And-. Artemis, what happened?"

"I'm-. Not.. sure. Either you merged together and I made sure that you won, or you got erased by the Omega Effect and I shot the other Grayven until he turned into you."

"Oh." That's… Bad.

"Do you still remember you? I mean, Earth Grayven?"

"I live in a mountain near Rifle, Colorado, and have adopted nine…"

I suddenly get a flash of Grayven's actual interactions with Mortalla. Of her talking to him after one of the walks he took with Father-. Darkseid-. I think she was actually trying to mother him, though… Yes, I feel his feelings. He didn't even notice.

"Nine children. And-. I think it's going to be easier for me to take control of Grayven's military… I don't think you're going to like this."

"If I surrender to you. 'You'."

"And probably if Lynne does as well. The Queen is going to be trickier, and then I've got to decide what we're actually going to do with the fleet."

"You're not just gunna kill them all?"

"We didn't kill all the Sheeda."

"We needed the Sheeda."

"I don't feel like slaughtering an entire people. Even if they kind of deserve it."

"Again."

"I don't feel like slaughtering an entire people, even if they kind of-"

She chuckles quietly.

"-deserve it. Mother Box, boom tube to Lynne."

Ping.

"I take your point, but these aren't the-"

BOOM!

"-citadelians or the psions. They're chancers in a violent universe. If wouldn't be right to exterminate them without at least giving them a chance to get onboard."

She regards me curiously for a moment. Then something occurs to her. "And the Justice League's here."

"And the Justice League's here. So, are you alright swearing allegiance?"

She shrugs. "I basically have anyway."

"Thank you. I-."

Sinthia and the two surviving Zamarons escort a blood-splattered Queen Clryssa out of an adjacent corridor and bring her before me. I pause for a moment, then focus on.. Grayven's memories of how he dealt with these people.

I turn slightly away, letting them bring the queen closer before I acknowledge-.

Lynne steps through the boom tube.

**Poppet, play along.**

**Daddy?**

**Probably. [Images of my fight and what Artemis said.] I'll need you to clue the queen in without the others picking up on it.**

**Yes, Daddy.**

Lynne walks towards me, stopping exactly the same distance away as Artemis is standing. I don't hear any telepathic traffic between them, but they both kneel at the same time. Now, if there was another New God here this would be a problem. This sort of pledge involved deliberately binding one soul as subject to the other. But since there's no one here who can pick up on it, I settle for stepping forward and touching each on the head.

"Rise, my servants."

"Lord Grayven." / "Lord Grayven." **I've told her.**

Then I turn to the queen. I don't see anything in her manner that suggests that she's in any way reassured, but she's a reasonable politician and can probably control her own features to a degree.

"Queen Clryssa. I have won. I can send the worlds of the Vega Systems crashing into one another at will and your throneworld lays under my guns. You will offer me your surrender, and then we will draft the peace treaty. Hopefully, no occupation will be necessary."

"And if I refuse?"

"If all of the suns of Vega were to go nova, you would have roughly a century to evacuate your entire empire before the radiation wave hit and this region was scoured of life. And then there are the casualties that the Crown Imperium would suffer as my fleet eliminated its military capacity. Surrender really is for the best."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st September 2012
16:23 GMT

"Good." I nod to Artemis as Queen Clryssa signs the paper that we'll be tearing up as soon as I've had time to re-crew the Absolute Dominion. "Convey this to the pretender's followers. If they will abide by it, the truce will begin as soon as knowledge of it can be communicated to my captains."

"Yes, Lord Grayven."
It feels so wrong to hear her say it like that. I know it's just a scheme but it shouldn't be happening!
The hush tube makes no noise as it opens, and Sinthia looks mildly curious as Artemis appears to vanish into thin air. Right. Grayven wouldn't-.

A flash of memory, the techniques he used for gathering information. Advanced scouts in ships designed to fit in with mercenary crowds more or less just asking around. Asking governments about work in what appears to have effectively been an upgraded phishing scam, telling them where there might be bribable defenders or weak points. Looking around in a mildly suspicious but in-character sort of way. Beyond that, he relied on the astonishingly good sensors on the Absolute Dominion and boom tubed commandoes.

Not a master of covert operations. In fact, I'd rate-.

For one horrible moment I can't distinguish between the two sets of memories. Like there aren't two distinct sets, and I'm forced to think about every single one before I know whether it started as mine or not. I don't let it show on my face, not with his allies present. But I'm going to need to talk to someone about that.

From what Grayven learned, the Orrery was created by angelic-looking creatures as a tool for controlling the Vega Systems. Supposedly, they hid it here when Larfleeze started fighting them, which… Might explain why he thought it was a good idea to bring the Orange Central Power Battery here when on the run from the Guardians. They might consider a thief to be beneath their notice, but an intrusion from creatures like the Guardians would be more likely to provoke a response.

Its very existence is an existential threat to everything in Vega. I'd like to move it, but I don't know if I can risk it. Leaving it here -particularly when the queen is likely to be quite angry with me- isn't something I really want to do.

But here's the problem. Grayven kept Sinthia around him most of the time. He wouldn't leave her to guard something like this. Ovula and Muliebria would be treated like that, but they lack the discipline to make good guards and neither of them were the brains of the outfit. They might play with it, or be distracted if Gavyn broke in and did something regrettable to it.

Hang on, didn't Komand'r say something about Thanagarian mercenaries..? Yes, from both sets of memories. The Blades of Alstair. Floraphiles then, but it's not like I wanted good relations with Thanagar. Ring, send them a message.

By your command.

"Ace." Again, I don't visibly wince. "Remain here until relieved. Study the artefact but take no chances. I would not have my prize destroyed."

"Yes, Lord Grayven." **You can do this, Daddy.**

**I hope you're right.**

Because I'm going to be surrounded by people with no reason to wish me well. If Grayven had had the time to turn Sinthia into a New God, or if his relations with Father were good enough-. With Darkseid were good enough to ask for an assistant, this would… Not be going well.

And that's without worrying about what he's going to make of this.

Mother Box.

Ping.

"With me, all of you."

I walk through the hush tube, appearing on the bridge of the Absolute Dominion. No one took my s-. His station… My station during my absence, but the ranking officer makes a gesture of acquiescence as he sees me. Sinthia follows as I resume my station, the ship easily accepting my return as it feeds information to my metaphysique. I don't say anything out loud, I merely will it so and the transmission systems ready themselves to relay the queen's message.

Sinthia comes through the hush tube next, followed by the queen and the zamarons. I smile as I point to the spot the queen will be using to make the broadcast, while Sinthia resumes the executive officer station and the other two take something approximating guard stations. I wait until the queen is standing exactly where I told her to before entering the area and activating the privacy screen.

Sinestro.

There are limits to what I can do where New God technology is concerned. But I believe that the screen is functioning as directed.

Thank you.

You're welcome. It is… Good to have you back.

I position myself so that the bulk of my body blocks the view of the queen's mouth from the rest of the bridge.

"Okay, it should be safe-."

"I am not happy about this."

"No one's happy about this. If you've got a better idea for resolving this with fewer casualties, then I'm all ears. I'm the one giving up worlds that would have been colonised by the tamaraneans."

"You're obliging me to let my enemies go, to let them destroy our ships and military instillations without recompense!"

Her body posture doesn't change, and her facial expression only changes as much as it needs to in order to add proper vehemence to her words.

"Without Grayven they can't use this ship at anything like full effectiveness, but I'm running on fumes myself and their fleet is more than powerful enough to destroy every city on Kranaltine. This isn't a surrender; this is manipulating an enemy into giving up an advantageous position." I give her a moment to think. "We can try fighting it out if you really want, but your people will suffer a lot more."

"He came here for you."

"Actually, no. I mean, he wanted me dead, but his plan was to marry you and use the Crown Imperium as the starting point for his galactic empire. It being far easier to usurp an existing power hierarchy than to create a new one."

Queen Clryssa is not an attractive woman, physically, mentally or spiritually. Given that her sole claim to power is being the oldest child of the previous monarch I imagine that Grayven's god powers would have reduced her to an ornamental heir factory before too long. I actually feel-. Sympathy. Not for her -if you can't make something of your life with all of the advantage she had, there's really no hope for you- but for him. I'd hate being married to someone like that, and I think at this point I'm half him.

"Also, he had a reserve fleet of cannibals ready to depopulate the region in case his plan didn't work out. I went and dealt with them first, but we're going to be settling them too."

"What will you tell them?"

"That you surrendered and that we're going to be building our population and industrial base before we do anything else. And that since everyone's swearing allegiance to me there's no point in further fighting. That'll maintain the peace until I've sounded a few people out about the truth." I pause. I'd like to shrug, but that's an un-Grayven-like gesture. "Or I use my telepathic servants and innate magics to change how they feel about it and then tell them. Once the shooting stops a plethora of options become available." I pause again. "Or we can try fighting. Mother Box, casualty projections?"

"Ping."

"Quite. Well?"

She hesitates, then nods. "I am ready."

"Go ahead." Hear Us.

"Nobles and soldiers of the Crown Imperium. We have peace."

 

[Mr Zoat]

A Waltz in Orange and Green

10th September 2012
08:54 GMT

"Warning! Will Detected!" / "Warning! Will Detected!" / "Green Alert!" / Incoming Green Lantern.

Lanterns Xor, Dul and Onik look to me for direction, but all I can do is shrug.

"I'm not expecting anyone. Ring, contact Lantern Toren."

"Compliance."

Xor turns away and swings a giant hand construct, catching the outlaw transport ship around the middle of its hull and arresting its progress. Interestingly, it's Onik and not Dul who takes the lead in boarding operations. Dul is fully invested in realpolitik; the fact that the Guilders eat people only really bothers her because the people they eat might end up being thanagarians. Onik on the other hand is managing to internalise my 'ideal universe' ideology, and you don't have to be the Universe's Greatest Humanoidist to realise that the Guild isn't part of that.

My ring flickers, then Toren's face appears.

"Expecting company?"

"No. Are you?"

"Ah, I don't get alerts for Orange Lanterns but I'm not expecting anyone else, no. Why?"

"The ships' identification marks them as coming from Sector One Six Three Four."

Oh dear.

"Is it Lantern Priest?"

"No."

Oooooooooh sh-ugar.

"Has Lord Malvolio said what he wants?"

"As far as I could tell, he's here for tourism."

"That sounds astonishingly unlikely."

"I agree. How powerful is he?"

"If I'm not bonded to the Ophidian, he's more powerful than me. Given the period of history he's from I'd like to think that his understanding of science and technology is worse than mine, but he's had centuries to bring himself up to date and he struck me as being rather serious. And he has an entire Space Sector's worth of willing tutors who've hailed him as their god-king."

"I see."

"What have the Guardians told you about him?"

"That he's a murderous tyrant who killed a Green Lantern and stole his ring. Are you going to tell me that is untrue?"

"I'd be surprised if the Guardians told a direct lie I could easily disprove. It's incomplete, seeing as how his Sector was a war zone before I freed him. I haven't checked, how's it doing now?"

"I don't know. The Sector doesn't have a Green Lantern any longer."

"I would respectfully point out that that isn't true. It doesn't have a member of the Green Lantern Corps, but that doesn't mean the same thing."

Though… That probably means that Lantern Priest is dead. Either that or they promoted him to train up an Honour Guard taskforce. They might offer Malvolio the Larfleeze deal but I rather doubt that he'd take it. On the other hand… Beyond some measure of recompense for them imprisoning him, what does he actually want? Does he have something against me for Mr. Allen's breach of hospitality?

I suppose I should check…

"Is Lantern Priest dead?"

"I don't know. He isn't answering his ring, but ring communications can be blocked. Or he might have resigned."

Well, shazbot.

"Want me to go and talk to him?"

"Identity theft complete."

"I was going to suggest that you leave the Sector."

"We'll do that if that's what you want, but as far as I can tell he has more reason to hate you than me. I've got a slightly higher chance of finding out why he's here without violence."

"Identity theft complete."

"That statement is at odds with everything I know about you. Still, at least it will give me more time to prepare."

"I'll let you know how it goes. Illustres out."

"Identity theft complete."

I shut down the ring communication and look at my squadron. Xor is making the hull good for transport, while Onik is assimilating the crew. Dul on the other hand is giving me her full attention.

"More powerful than you?"

"Come and talk to me again in four hundred years."

"Humans don't live four hundred years."

"It's unusual, but it does happen. Vandal Savage is about forty eight thousand years old and Nommo Balewa is around eleven thousand."

She regards me with the scepticism of someone who fully expects to be wrong but who can't let that go unchallenged. "Forty eight thousand years."

"He doesn't have a lot to show for it, honestly. Other than the fact that most of my species is descended from him. But anyway, Lord Malvolio appears to have transcended his physiology by just being that good a Lantern. My friend Alan's done something similar with the blue light."

I turn back to our other colleagues.

"Can the two of you cope without us?"

"Yes, Illustres." / "Yes Illustres."

"Lantern Dul, you're on wingman duty. Both eyes open, speak only in response to direct questions. If things turn violent, run. Clear?"

"Run where?"

"Good question. Ah. Let's say 'Maltus'. Clearer?"

"Yes, Illustres."

"Right then. Warp in two, one, now."

Space bends and… I can see the brilliant green glow that marks Lord Malvolio's location. At least I hope that's Lord Malvolio, because otherwise there are two ludicrously powerful Green Lanterns around the place.

"Why do you think he's here?"

"This is the galaxy's centre for green light worship. I suspect he's here to pick up people interested in his heterodox version of the faith."

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th September 2012
08:59 GMT

The fleet he's brought -and I can feel the green from the other side of the system- is large, but it's 'escort important head of state' large, rather than 'you're now being invaded' large. There are a wide variety of ship configurations so I'm going to assume that they haven't settled on a doctrine-.

No, that's not what this is. Each species under his aegis has sent a small flotilla. He's showing that he rules a multi-species polity. Communicating that there's no reason why you couldn't be one of them. Most empires have a core species and then treat others better or worse depending on their philosophy. Krypton generally treated the worlds they dominated alright, though any active resistance was put down comprehensively as a reminder that it wasn't a negotiation. Controllers are excellent people to be ruled by, as the populations they've rehoused will attest. At the far opposite end of the spectrum, we have the Reach and their quicksand approach to empire building: looking relatively harmless until you're stuck and then pulling you under and drowning you.

He wants to be clear to everyone seeing this galaxy's centre of Lanternism that that isn't how he does things.

"Ring, contact… Squire Wallace."

"Communication request sent."

Because when Lord Malvolio ends a conversation with 'This is not the end', it's probably best to find out exactly what he meant by that first.

A construct holoprojector appears in front of me, and a moment later an image of Lord Malvolio's personal assistant shimmers into being.

"Lantern-." He starts in surprise. "Orange Lantern. This is… Unexpected. What brings you here?"

"Access to records concerning past Lanterns second only to those of Oa. I assume that your master is here for much the same reason?"

"I would not presume to answer such a question on his behalf."

"Fair enough. The locals are a little concerned about your fleet being here. Would you care to relay your master's intentions?"

"He has requested that any Lantern who makes contact be conveyed into his presence at the earliest opportunity."

"I wasn't certain if -given our past altercation- such a request would include me."

"He directly stated that it included Lantern Jordan. You weren't mentioned, but I have no reason to believe that he holds you in greater disfavour."

"Okay. I'm available now. Is there a queue?"

"No, you are invited immediately. Please come to the command cruiser at once."

"Certainly. I will be with you shortly."

I end the communication, glancing at Lantern Dul as I do so. I could bring her with me, even if she ended up having to wait outside during my meeting. On the other hand, if it came to a fight, she'd just be in the way. And it would be useful to have someone out here keeping an eye on things.

"Lantern Dul, monitor things from here. Let me know if the fleet makes any overtly aggressive action."

Her eyes are locked on the ship upon which I can feel Lord Malvolio's presence.

"That's a human?"

"Broadly."

Hm. I'm not going to try stepping out anywhere near Lord Malvolio again and space warping seems… Dubiously wise. Instead, I make an inertia-suppression drive construct and use that to fly across the system, careful to avoid looking at my own sensor readings as I go.

These things are slow and require huge amounts of power when compared to other faster than light systems, to say nothing of the… Physics anomalies which can sometimes result from incautious use. But I've survived contact with an actual deliberate time machine, so I'm not too worried. And almost no one bothers trying to interdict them for much the same reasons that no one really uses them and because no one really uses them, which means that Lord Malvolio almost certainly won't. No one in Sector 1634 had the technology, so…

And I'm here, lights illuminating… I think that's a landing bay, though it doesn't appear to have a significant quantity of fighters or bombers inside. Visitor landing? Or perhaps Lord Malvolio's private landing area. I dismiss my construct and fly to it at a more sedate pace. Hm, multi-layer atmosphere shield. Usually ship builders consider that to be unnecessary, as it's easier to throw up an impermeable shield or actual armour if something goes wrong with the first one. Not sure what that says about Lord Malvolio or his ship builder. There's enough space in here for a shuttle or two, but it's empty at the moment. I wonder-?

A door in the side of the room opens, and Wallace walks in with an escort of two soldiers. Dreadnaughts wearing primitive looking power armour. Their species was one of the most active during the wars following Lord Malvolio's disappearance, and not as a unified faction. I'm glad for the neighbours that they've accepted his return, and nervous for their slightly more distant neighbours that they've accepted his return.

"Orange Lantern. Thank you for arriving so promptly."

"No trouble, Wallace. Is his lordship at home?"

"He is on the ship and eager to speak with you."

I fly closer and land just ahead of him, his bodyguards appearing not at all troubled.

"Lead the way, then."

He walks back between his bodyguards and through the door by which he entered, and I walk along beside him. The guards fall in behind us, their greater size making them take one step for every three of ours.

"Has Lord Malvolio given any indication of how he feels about our last encounter?"

"In what sense, sir?"

"The Flash's gross violation of Lord Malvolio's hospitality. I rather assumed that he would hold us all responsible."

"It is true, he was quite enraged. Since then, however, I have had the liberty to visit the Earth, and learn a little more of what the Sheeda did that so enraged your party."

"You've visited Earth?"

"Covertly. Lord Malvolio was mindful that his personal arrival would have been somewhat provocative, and I did not wish to draw undue attention unto myself." He frowns mildly. "Still, the behaviour of The Flash seemed to be somewhat at odds with his typical character."

"A normal war might last years, but individual soldiers won't spend more than a tiny proportion of that actually fighting. The Justice League fought multiple times each day for months on end, for the entire war. The Flash moves at supernatural speed, but for him the rest of the world slows down. For him, each fight wasn't minutes or hours, it was days or years. Or longer. He spent centuries of subjective time looking at all of the evils the Sheeda inflicted on humanity at close range."

"I see. Yes, his behaviour is a good deal more explicable when viewed in that light. What has become of him?"

"At the time, not a lot. With things how they were, we just couldn't spare him. Now, he's on a leave of absence and getting therapy. We can't risk someone with his abilities losing control of himself like that again."

"And the Sheeda? What of them?"

"Very few Sheeda were captured alive. In theory, those held by various Earth nations should have been handed over to the special tribunals that were set up by the agreement of Earth's governments to try and punish them for their actions during the war. Most were found guilty of capital crimes, though a few didn't meet the required threshold. Those are in prison."

"And so die the Sheeda."

"Not necessarily. I would be surprised if some of the more powerful countries didn't offer a few sanctuary in exchange for their knowledge of magic or biotechnology. And… The Sheeda are humans from the far future. In theory, our descendants will become like them. It's just a matter of time."

"A most disquieting thought."

"Possibly due to our studying the biological material they brought back with them."

"Why would anyone desire to become such as they?"

"One gene sequence to grant greater longevity, one for faster wound healing, another for visual acuity or intelligence. Immunity to cancer…" I shrug. "Improving yourself seems like a good idea, and then eventually you look back and wonder how you got where you are."

"A subject on which we could both opine."

I just nod.

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th September 2012
09:05 GMT

"Orange Lantern Paul. Or should I say, Lord Illustres?"

The room in which Lord Malvolio is receiving me is a smaller version of his audience chamber/throne room back on his space station. The throne is absent, the smaller space not requiring the same gallantry to dominate. It's replaced with a heavy curved stool which both supports him and subtly emphasises his huge size.

"Either is accurate. I am an Orange Lantern and my rank is Illustres. In some cultures that warrants the appellation 'lord', but the Orange Lantern Corps has no such title structure. Either are preferable to 'wyrmling'."

"Lord Illustres, then. Why have you come here?"

"I wish to improve my abilities as a trainer. The records on Karax are excellent, and I hope to learn from them."

"There are other men such as you, who wield orange light as I wield green?"

"There are a large number of other Orange Lanterns, yes. I have a particular relationship with the orange light which none have entirely been able to replicate, much as I have not seen any Green Lanterns who have… Developed their abilities quite as you have."

"None at all? The thought vexes me and leaves me discomported."

"Humans appear to have a natural affinity for certain types of exotic energy. It may be due to our world being naturally rich in magic; my studies on the subject are incomplete."

"Other than Harold Jordan, who amongst our people serves the Guardians of Oa?"

"May I ask why you wish to know?"

He frowns mildly, staring directly at me.

"If I meant them ill, I would have acted upon my intent long before this day. I wish to learn of them that I may learn of myself."

"I apologise. The true names of certain empowered heroes is not usually public knowledge; you are asking me for privileged information that I am not necessarily at liberty to share."

The stare decreases in intensity, but the frown does not fade.

"Their names are secret? Is that a measure to ward off witchcraft?"

"Ah, might do, actually. It's more that… There was a certain… I'm sorry, I don't know much about the politics of the era in which you grew up."

"I am disposed to assume that matters of disestablishment and limits of parliamentary authority have been resolved; intractable as they did seem, it has been the passing of four centuries as the Earth measures time."

I frown. "I'm sorry; when exactly did you leave?"

"Shortly after the news of the decapitation of King Charles reached mine home in Salford."

"Oh, the English Civil War! Yes! Ah, England still has an established church but attendance is not mandatory and individuals are free to practice whatever faith they like or none at all. And after the parliamentary government collapsed, and after Cromwell reigned as a tyrant and eventually died, Charles the Second was invited back into the country to take the throne. He did alright, but he was succeeded by his brother who was so unpopular that parliament invited his daughter and her husband to take over which more or less established parliamentary supremacy, though the eventual shift in power from the House of Lords to the House of Commons wasn't completed for another two hundred years."

"Doth that bear any relation to the true name of Earth's other Lanterns?"

"Ah. No, I suppose not. I just thought that you might find it interesting. Essentially, the masked vigilante tradition arose in America, where those involved would wear masks to protect themselves against prosecution for their unlawful activity by the authorities they shamed with their superlative achievements. It also served to protect their friends and families from retaliation by the criminals they fought. And while some of Earth's Lanterns have their names in the public domain, not all do."

"Tis a strange thing, but I will not require you to betray their confidence."

"Thank you. Alan Scott picked up a green power ring in the nineteen thirties, and… Various things happened and he has a blue one now. Guy Gardner and Anya Savenlovich have green rings and public identities, while Green Lantern Two Eight One Four A's identity is not public knowledge."

"Then there are four human Green Lanterns at present."

"Yes. Oh, and Carol Ferris has a violet ring. That's it at the moment. Aside from you, obviously."

"I do not know the habits of the Guardians of Oa well, but that number strikes me an uncommonly high. Wallace, bring refreshment."

"At once, my lord."

He turns and leaves the audience chamber, presumably to head in the direction of the kitchens.

"Would you like a seat? As sovereign lord of all I survey I seldom play host to those who are my peers, but it seems that you are more in the manner of a near-equal."

"Thank you."

I float a little way into the air, then generate a construct stool in the same style as the one he's sitting on, but a little smaller and plainer.

"What brings you to Karax, Lord Malvolio? The local Green Lantern is concerned, given that you were on poor terms with the Guardians."

"I mean the man no malice. It would not be proper to blame every knight for the conduct of their king. My purpose here is peaceful pilgrimage, that I may learn the lore of the light I wield with my will."

"That… Might be difficult. The abbot of the order with one of the better libraries recently betrayed them, and a replacement hasn't been appointed yet. I suspect that the local Green Lantern is under orders not to aid you, and he's considered to be the authority around here. A lot of what they record is publically accessible, but a lot isn't."

"I would not wage war while peaceful paths are available. But what of you, Lord Illustres?"

"I'm happy to share with you. I'm curious about how a human becomes.. something like you. Blue Lantern Alan Scott is a good friend of mine, and he's.. not entirely a corporeal human any longer."

"His nature is now akin to mine own?"

"That would be my guess. The Atlanteans have a good understanding of the mechanics of the human soul, but their knowledge of alien technology is much worse. Magicians have always been able to bind themselves to power beyond themselves, but that wouldn't explain why some Lanterns undergo such a change and others don't."

"The mortal soul is a thing to be weighed and measured?"

"I have personally been to both Heaven and Hell. I don't recommend either, though Hell's the more honest."

"You have sojourned as Dante led by Virgil to the realms of the blessed and blighted dead?"

"Earth is a strange place filled with strange people. Would you like the full tale?"

He manages a small smile, though his missized lips make it look a little off.

"Verily."

"Then I should probably start with the reason for my first visit…"

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th September 2012
09:05 GMT

"…to people. Assess the mood of the place. This would be a frustrating time for them to turn on us."

"Yes, lord." Sinthia nods, then turns away to get in touch with whatever contacts she has amongst the Citizenry's citizens.

Gone? Good. I find myself relaxing a little. With the various factions of Vega awkwardly co-existing with as little contact with possible it's been possible for me to perform flying visits by hush tube to reassure my allies that I'm me and that this is just a scheme to avoid further bloodshed. Myand'r got Blake to check me over, but he seemed willing to go along with it. The Tamaranean navy did… Okay. Frankly, it's not yet big enough to have a large impact separate from the Orange Lantern Corps, but Dox wasn't complaining and that's practically a ringing endorsement.

I can feel how much less happy with me Tamaran is. They are more willing to bleed for victory than not bleed for a negotiated settlement. I understand and to a degree sympathise, but it's a foolish impulse. I hope that we'll be able to drum that mindset out of the fleet at least.

The Citizenry doesn't really have guards, but some soldiers make a point of getting out of my way as I walk towards the doors to what used to be Astarte's quarters. The door opens as I reach my destination, and I spend a moment watching over Donna and Diana's shoulders as the giant silver snake on the wall monitor eats its way through yet another population.

I bite down my initial thought, and toss a noise-canceller down as the door closes.

"Progress?"

Diana remains entranced by the spectacle, but Donna turns to me. She's clearly not taking this well. I'm-.

I'm…

I don't really know what I am. But becoming half Apokoliptian in fact hasn't made me more sensitive to slaughter.

"Why did they..? Do any of this?"

"How would I know?"

She's clearly not happy about that. "I thought you had the other Grayven's memories."

"Yes, but he only made contact with Astarte a decade or so ago. And they only started fighting alongside one another a little over a year ago. Grayven-. He's old, but the galaxy is a big place. And the memories I got don't really have a common point of reference so I can't even tell you how old." I nod at the monitor. "Look, I get it's horrific, but there's nothing much to be gained at this juncture by watching all of the worlds they murdered get murdered. Are any of them suitable for habitation in the short term?"

"They are all heavily picketed." Diana shakes her head, her eyes remaining transfixed on the screen. "And I doubt that the Green Lantern Corps would be willing to leave the Citizenry their spacecraft."

"I can use the Orrery to create new small rocky worlds in Vega, but they wouldn't really be liveable for a while. Even if we use cold guns to speed up the solidification process, you've still got the atmosphere... Or rather, they wouldn't. Or soil."

I shrug.

"Hinon… Controller Hinon had another option."

"If it is better than the nothing I have, I will hear it."

"The Controllers are fighting the Reach. They're a pretty evil empire on the other side of the galaxy. The Controllers can always use more ships and soldiers, and they're willing to build a planet for the Citizenry if they agree to provide both. The Reach are who Grayven was fighting before he heard about me, so the Citizenry are already familiar with them."

"That would mean encouraging their warlike ways."

"Yes. This is what ruling somewhere that isn't an isolated island in the Aegean is like. This is what it means to leave your enemies alive. You will be constantly choosing between things you don't really want to do. Learn to enjoy it, or else you'll be miserable for a very long time."

Diana turns off the screen and then turns around to face me.

"I never expected to rule Themyscira. And now that I must rule a people I find I am unprepared for it."

I shrug.

"Technically, I can help with that. But you'd need to pledge yourself to me for me to be able to share my insight, and I don't think that's desirable. Of course, you… Could ask Queen Hippolyta to handle it. It's not like Themyscira really needs her."

"When things are more settled I will be discussing the situation with her at length. Including your suggestion that we simply wipe my aunt's memory."

"Do you have any plans for your cousin?"

"We are currently weaning her off all of the chemicals they were using to allow her to fight at our level. I do not even know if she will survive."

"Knockout managed to knock some sense into Persuader. You could just hand Theana over to me. She won't enjoy it much and I doubt that she'll reform, but I'll make sure that she's better directed and controlled."

"I believe that she.. can be made whole."

"Oh, I do too. I'm just not sure that spending all the time that would be required to do that on a single individual while the future of the Citizenry is in your hands is efficient." My eyes dip as I shake my head. "I didn't mean for that to sound like I'm enjoying your discomfort. It's just-."

She nods. "These are the decisions that a person must make when they are a ruler."

"Or not make them, and bear the responsibility for the outcome with none of the control. Alright, time for me to get checked out by Scott again. Donna, do you want a lift back to Earth?"

"No, I'm-. I'm going to stay. College will still be there in a year, and I-. You're right. I'm going to take some of that responsibility."

"Welcome to godhood. The hours are constant and the work is hard, but after a while you feel like a round peg finally being slotted into a round hole. Mother Box, hush tube."

"Ping."

I step out into the all too familiar New God diagnosis room in Scott's basement. Barda's gone back into mid-level hostile from the barely catty level we had managed to achieve, while Scott…

"Grayven. Sit down." "I'll never believe that people shouldn't have freedom, but maybe in your case you should exercise it a little less."

I sit down.

"So how badly have I messed up this time?" "I can no more defy my nature than you can."

"It's not how badly you messed up, it's how badly you're messed up."

"Ping."

He glances down at his Mother Box and nods.

"It's definitely the Omega Force. Have you actually tried using it?"

"No, I'm not that stupid." "I don't like unmaking things."

Barda regards Scott with a stony face. "How is that possible? Darkseid absorbed the Omega Force to become Darkseid."

"I don't know. How does it feel?"

I shrug. "It doesn't feel like anything much. Though whether that's because I have so many memories of it being there that it doesn't feel strange, or because it's not as active as Life Equals Pain I don't know."

He shakes his head. "That doesn't sound right."

No. It doesn't. "Or it's because it conflicts less with my nature. Eliminating my enemies is perfectly in tune with Conquest where being miserable all the time isn't. Any idea how we can store it outside of me?"

"Why not just get the ponies to shoot it again?"

"Just keeping my options open. This isn't crippling me and I might need it."

"I…" He shrugs. "I don't know how to do that, and I think if Himon did then he'd have said something by now."

"So we can't do it?"

"So we'll have to ask Metron."

…

Oh bother.

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th September 2012
11:23 GMT

"…briefly studied Hobbes, but I certainly don't share his take on human nature."

I take a sip of the water Wallace fetched for me when I said that I didn't drink alcohol on duty. Naturally, Leviathan was the one book on political philosophy that Lord Malvolio brought with him from Earth. It perfectly reflects the politics of the era he's from and… It explains certain things about his Sector.

"No? Mine own experiences bear out the brutal barbarity of his beliefs. I reign as autocrat, and when banished, existence in mine empire became nasty, brutish and short."

"That's a product of the lack of direction. You had no heir, had made no succession arrangements and left them being ruled by a structure that couldn't operate without you. They had no way to resolve their differences without changing the system that you set in place, and their ideology wouldn't allow them to do that. So it became more and more dysfunctional until it broke down completely."

"And your suggested remedy is that I should beget an heir?"

"The succession doesn't need to be to a biological descendant. Roman Emperors designated their successors. Greek City-States would elect them. The important thing is that there's a process generally seen as legitimate that can put someone into office. If your followers had a mechanism for selecting a regent… You know them better than me. Would that have worked?"

"How could I trust a regent to remain virtuous?"

"Indoctrination. European history contains any number of wealthy men who chose to give up their worldly goods and join monasteries rather than live lives of self indulgence. Your followers were willing to kill and die for what they believed to be your will, even without you there to enforce it. Do you really believe that none of them could be relied upon to remain honest?"

"Is that how manners are managed in the Orange Lantern Corps?"

"No. That wouldn't work for us. An Orange Lantern is motivated by their desires. Instilling formal discipline at the age at which we recruit them wouldn't really work. Rather, we recruit not merely people with strong desires, but who genuinely desire to perform pro-social actions with them. Ideally, we'll get to a point where I don't need to keep an eye on everyone, I'll be able to trust them to do what I want by doing what they want."

"But for now?"

"We select people whose sense of self-worth is tied to their martial achievements or people who want to destroy our enemies. Our leader is a man whose strongest desire is to display his genius as an administrator and strategist."

"You do not lead?"

"I wouldn't do as good a job. My ego isn't tied up in having people follow my orders. I want to teach and guide, so that's what I do. If Dox dropped dead tomorrow it would be my job to find a replacement, but I just don't have the right desire set or skills to take it on in the longer term myself."

"And if your own self suffered a mortal injury?"

"Ah… The last couple of times that happened, it didn't stick. But if it did, then Dox would have to find someone similar to me to replace me. There would be a loss of skill in the role -I'm very good at what I do- but I'm not essential to the Orange Lantern Corps. And neither's he, and… If all of the senior Orange Lanterns died, Controller Hinon could take over. If every Orange Lantern died tomorrow, the Controllers would remake the Corps based on what we have built. It wouldn't be ideal, but it would work. We're not unified by a hierarchy of power and punishment, but by shared ideals."

"Is that at odds with how the Green Lanterns who serve the Guardians conduct their affairs?"

"Yes. The Guardians rule the Green Lantern Corps. For the most part they set only broad objectives, but their authority is unquestioned and their numbers are slowly decreasing. They are either unwilling or unable to either make more Guardians or pass command authority to others."

"And thus guarantee that in time they will suffer their own crisis of succession."

"Something like that. I imagine that if they vanished their Clarissi would take over with the support of their Honour Guard, but there would still be fairly major problems because they don't train Lanterns to do the things that they do."

"To what things do you refer?"

"Diplomacy. Green Lanterns don't get training in interstellar relations, and wouldn't have the authority of the Guardians even if they did. The pacts that grant Green Lanterns lawful authority across the galaxy would not be maintained or expanded. Green Lanterns also can't forge their own rings or personal lanterns."

"Not one of them?"

"It's a very rare ability, requiring total focus over a prolonged period of time. And then you don't necessarily get a particularly good one; forging is a difficult skill to learn. In the Orange Lantern Corps we have one man who can reliably do it, and he earnestly wants to destroy the entire universe. I can create orange personal lanterns, but so far only ones of very low quality."

A frown.

"What manner of man wishes to destroy creation?"

"A Qwardian Weaponer. Their culture was founded by… I don't think it's technically a god, but a being who wanted to destroy all creation, convert it into energy and absorb it. The Weaponers consider creating weapons and destroying things to be a sacred duty. I arranged for him to be employed because he'll do less harm working for us where we can see him rather than leaving him to his own devices."

"You could slay him."

"Then who would make our rings if the Controllers decide not to work with us? As I said, it's an uncommon skill. And now that I've accepted him, I don't think it would be right to kill him without evidence that he's fallen back on bad habits."

He nods.

"An inconsistent sovereign's word counts for little. Tell me, are there rings of avarice outside of your control?"

"Probably. Due to one of the actions I look against the first Orange Lantern, rings were scattered across the galaxy. There's almost no way for me to know whether or not we managed to recover them all, and there have been a couple of occasions in which I've been called in to deal with their recipients."

"And how did you treat with them?"

"Some were bandits, and I dealt with them as I would with any other bandit. Some were driven mad by their ring, and I dealt with them as I would any other madman. And some had mastered their ring. Those I offered a position in our Corps."

"Did those in the latter group all accept?"

"So far, but it's not a large sample."

"What would you do if they declined?"

"Depends. Are they doing anything I strongly disapprove of?"

"Let us say that you do disapprove, but not strongly."

"I'd have a discussion with them and sound them out, give them advice on how to remain sane while using an orange ring, but I wouldn't take the ring by force in that situation."

"You would not impress them?"

"I don't own the orange light. It's a part of every purposive being in the universe. I have no claim to it in its entirety."

"Do you believe that the Guardians of Oa feel as you do?"

"No, but they do think very long term. They were content to ignore Alan Scott for decades. May I ask why you're asking?"

"I have affirmed my intent to resolve my troubles in one; both to anoint an heir and secure my Sector. I shall do so by seeking men capable of wielding will, and by my own skill strike rings to make their authority."

"Good luck with that, but I think that the Guardians did something to make that impossible?"

"Is a thing already achieved impossible?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th September 2012
11:31 GMT

Ooooooooooh.

"I had wondered why it was so big."

The very big lantern that used to be in Lord Malvolio's space station is now sitting in a cargo bay in his flagship, glowing vibrant green.

"The Guardians of Oa keep their secrets well; e'en after their servants have fought across the galaxy for millennia, little knowledge of their true methods has reached the ears of the hoi polloi. Know you why they used lanterns as their sigil?"

"A lantern on a stick used to be the tool and sign of office of their law enforcement. Much as law enforcement agencies on Earth have a seal despite us not sealing official documents with wax any longer, so they decided to keep the general shape with the charging devices that their agents use."

"A curious act; I had not thought them capable of such sentimentality."

"How easy would it be for Christianity to change its primary emblem from the cross to anything else?" I shrug as I try to work out how large a problem this is likely to be. "And Christianity has barely been around for two thousand years. The Green Corps has used Lanterns for millions."

"They do it then not for their own benefit but for the benefit of those they claim to protect."

"It might be sentimentality. Or it could be that the current design works and so they don't see any purpose in changing it."

"By what I know of their staid natures, the latter is more likely."

"I don't know. Appa Ali Apsa seemed like he had a little more life in him."

"You know their names?"

"I've met them all briefly. Their names aren't secret, they just don't value them, or value individuality. And they've all known each other for so long that they don't need to use them in conversation with each other. Controller Hinon thinks it's a stupid affectation, so it might be just the younger ones who are weird about names."

I take a closer look at the giant lantern, giving it a scan for good measure.

"What is it for? I assumed that you got a personal lantern from… Ah…"

"Mine natural father."

"I… Hadn't realised that he was your father."

"I came home to find mine mother being assailed by what I perceived to be a demon. T'was only after I ran him through that I learned truth."

"Ah, 'assailed'?"

"In congress."

Ah.

I mean, it's never been a problem for me, but I imagine that maintaining the focus required for an environmental shield while engaged in sexual relations isn't that easy for a Green Lantern.

"I know that killing a Green Lantern doesn't disqualify a person from getting the ring after them, but I'm a little surprised that you were able to keep it."

"I thought it a talisman of his vile magics, that I risked all the fiends of Hell descending upon Manchester should my will fail e'en for a moment."

"They didn't… Try communicating?"

"I thought them the fiend's diabolic masters, and told them such. The ring fought me, but I fought for all the souls of the men of Christendom."

"And then?"

"It fell silent, and resisted me not. Later, Priest visited mine abode and explained affairs at a greater length."

"The AI." I nod. "They fried the AI, like they did for Yalan Gur."

"You refer to the ring's vocal spirit?"

"I don't think it's a spirit, though I…"

I mean, the AI can't be built into the physical structure of the ring, it has to be a stable light structure… Doesn't it? That… Would make it sort of a spirit. I wonder if binding spells would work to shut down a ring's AI? Have to test that at some point.

"Yes. Which means that you wouldn't have had access to its database."

"Indeed I did not. Priest's teaching showed me how to harness the light of will well enough, but the Guardians barred me from their order."

"So what's this for?"

"If I cannot join their Corps, I will simply make mine own. My imprisonment gave me much time to contemplate mine own power, and to build this."

I'm forced to compare this scaled-up personal lantern to my own work.

Well.

He had four hundred years.

"And how are you doing for rings?"

"A trying task. E'en now, something of their nature defeats me."

"I've got to be honest here: I've been offloading a lot of the calculations regarding my more complex constructs onto my ring's AI."

"Can mine be repaired, do you know?"

"It's probably-." Was Alan's repaired by his new personal lantern, or was it a completely fresh installation? "I would guess so, but I wouldn't know how to do it. Unless you felt like changing to orange?"

"You have your colour, while I have mine."

"Though actually, this could be a useful training exercise. Would you mind if I brought my students in to have a look? We could brainstorm techniques together."

"You feel no hesitancy in conspiring against the Guardians?"

"Well… The Guardians have done a good job for millions of years. But they're hardly faultless, and… Ultimately, they're not the boss of me. I'd like to improve my own abilities and those of my students, and… Your situation could be one that my friend Alan is going to end up in eventually. Unlike the Guardians I don't have a particular problem with you ruling a Sector… I'm not signing up to make you King of the Galaxy or anything, but I see no reason not to cooperate at the moment."

"Well said. I do not object to the presence of your students. Indeed, I am curious to meet more Lanterns than those I have encountered to date."

"Rightoh, I'll call them. Illustres to Lantern Xor. Are you finished?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th September 2012
11:44 GMT

"Lord Malvolio, permit me to introduce Lantern Xor, Lantern Dul and Lantern Onik."

Despite Malvolio's size, Xor is still quite a bit larger than him. Neither of them seem particularly concerned about their physical size; Malvolio is perfectly confident that his will and ring-power would be sufficient in any fight and Xor is perfectly used to being around smaller people. Dul on the other hand is clearly more interested in the giant personal lantern while Onik can't decide what he's more interested in.

"I greet you. I am Lord Malvolio of the Green Flame, sovereign lord of the region of space you know as Sector Sixteen Thirty Four and the ruler of its people."

Dul's eyes narrow slightly. "I didn't think that Green Lanterns were allowed to rule entire Sectors."

"I am not beholden to the Guardians of Oa. Nay, indeed, their agents are dispatched to act against me and dispute my will and rightful rule."

Ah…

"You're not a part of the Green Lantern Corps."

"Indeed I am not."

"When you say 'act against me', do you mean that Green Lanterns are attacking your empire right now?"

"No, worry not. Priest confronted me ere I sojourned from mine place of imprisonment, but I dispatched him swiftly."

"'Dispatched' as in dead, or..?"

"He lives, disarmed and isolated. The love I bore him as mine tutor is such that e'en now, slaying him would not sit well with me. As for the rest, they have scouted mine domains and been instructed to leave by mine fleets. Matters have not yet escalated."

"But you think that they will?"

"I would strive for a position of power whether they do or not."

"Fair enough. Any other questions for our host?"

"Are you recruiting?"

Lantern Dul barely waited for me to finish talking before asking the question. I frown, my eyes darting to Malvolio's hands. No second ring, but there's no reason why it wouldn't be somewhere else on his person. I can't imagine that he'd have sent it back to Oa, though I suppose that it's not beyond the realm of possibility that he let it go under the assumption that it would select someone in the Sector who was already loyal to him.

"I will anoint those amongst my men whom I judge capable and worthy."

"So don't bother posting advertisements in the Thanagarian Empire because they're never going to get it."

"No, but Thanagar would be happy to trade for the services of Lanterns."

"And I may treat with ambassadors and I may in the fullness of time make such strategic alliances as are convenient to me. But such is not our purpose here."

"It's no secret that I can make personal lanterns. Lord Malvolio-" I gesture to his… I'm not sure what it qualifies as. Secondary Green Central Power Battery? Coterie Lantern? "-has rather surpassed my efforts to date, and neither of us have successfully made a ring. Since these are both learnable skills, that's what we'll be studying today."

"The creation of this Great Lantern took many weeks of dedicated effort. I am curious to observe your efforts."

I doff my armour and sit cross-legged on the floor, my eyes nearly closed but my empathic vision turned up all the way. Malvolio's presence is near-blinding, but I've gotten a better feel for the others during our time here and can easily… See where their desires integrate with mine.

I also note that Lantern Xor has sat down and is studying me as carefully as he can. Yes, he's probably closest to being able to understand this.

"Almost every being has within them some contact with each of the lights. The network of strands which build up their nature, their desires. To make a lantern you must first learn to perceive them not as a series of strands but as the interface, the point at which the raw stuff of desire diffuses one way and the specificality of desire diffuses the other."

I don't look at anyone else. I'm simply going to use my own, and my conscious connection to the Honden as what I manifest. I hold out my hands, the faint wire frame outline of a lantern appearing and the point already 'tied' to the orange light glowing just a little brighter. The point just above the core is at once a solid position in the lantern's structure and my desire to avoid nullity. A part of the handle my desire for camaraderie. And on and on until the structure is essentially solid, shimmering as not completely 'real', but still there in a way a normal construct is not.

I managed that last time, though far more haphazardly than I'm doing now. But the bit I completely messed up is the bit that comes next: using the structure I've built to link the structure to the light itself, to the Honden itself.

From the incredibly specific to the non-specific. From me to all. And back again. The complexity of the individual and the vastness of the Honden.

It's shining, shimmering, being at once in the material universe and outside it as the points marked by my manifested desires alter the laws of reality just enough to make that possible. I take a few moments to look at it as it becomes self-sustaining and then fade back into the room.

Ring, time?

10th September 2012
15:29 GMT

Hm. Reasonable.

Xor's eyes are glowing while Onik is staring with an expression which… That's religious ecstasy, isn't it? Dul is ignoring it in favour of watching Lord Malvolio. I can't tell what he's thinking, but I do get a small respectful nod as I emerge more fully from my trance.

The personal lantern… Looks good. Better than my first effort, at least. I take my current personal lantern out of subspace and set them side by side on the deck.

Ring, how did I do?

No faults detected.

Ah. Well, Hinon's the expert and I'll have to have her give it a once-over, but I think I can be reasonably pleased with that.

Xor blinks, shaking his head.

"Illustres, I could not understand what you did."

"Lantern Dul?"

"My ring could see what you were doing with the construct power, but I couldn't get anything else."

"I see. Lantern Onik?"

"You made a personal lantern."

"Y-es, that-."

"You made a personal lantern you made a personal lantern you made a…"

"Lord Malvolio?"

"For how long have you wielded a ring?"

"A little over two years."

"I required decades of instruction afore I could do so much."

"Bonding with the Ophidian gave me perspective that most mortals lack. So for the rest of you, here's what I did."

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th September 2012
17:18 GMT

"Raagh!"

Lantern Dul snarls as her latest effort collapses in a flash of thwarted desire.

"Lantern Dul, I-."

Her body language goes through 'you have my full attention' and all the way to 'I'm about to swoop on you'.

"-set you this task as a training exercise. I don't actually expect you to be able to create a functioning lantern during our time together. And certainly not today. The purpose is to give you a better idea of how you're doing in your other exercises, one you can actually see."

Lord Malvolio looks mildly disquieted. I assume he doesn't understand why I'm allowing her to act up like this, rather than anything about what I've done or said contents-wise.

She nods, her anger leaving her swiftly. I wouldn't say that she's 'mastered' her anger or anything like that, but she has gotten better at defeating it with rationality.

"I'll keep working on it. I don't think that I'll be able to make my own lantern in the foreseeable future."

"Lantern Dul, I'm a freak who got lucky with the Ophidian. Don't measure yourself against me." I nod my head in the direction of Xor and Onik. Onik has a wire frame lantern he's been staring at for over an hour, while Xor's eyes are closed as he meditates. "They're the ones you can meaningfully measure yourself against."

"Yes, Illustres."

She fluffs her wings before floating into the air in a meditative pose.

"Your technique is at odds with what I used to create mine own lantern."

I nod. "It would be. There is probably more than one way to make one, and in any case we're using different colours. And there's probably some unifying factor that explains and predicts the techniques that can be made to work…"

I shrug.

"I'm not the person to ask about that, though."

"As I have issued my challenge to the Guardians' control of the power of will, I see little chance that they will illuminate me."

"There might be an unaligned Maltusian -or even a Controller- who would be willing to share their knowledge. But that sort of person would want a major concession."

"A concession I am not minded to give."

"There are Qwardians with the required knowledge. They take cash, but I think that someone might have already bought them."

"Who would consort with such a people?"

"Thaal Sinestro. Have you heard of him?"

"I have not."

"A former Green Lantern, who preferred order to beneficence. He was judged to have broken Corps regulation by how he repressed his own people, so the Guardians sentenced him to exile. Then there's a period where we don't really know what happened, then he was back with a yellow power ring. That one runs off his mastery of fear: his knowledge of his own fears and his ability to inspire fear in his opponents. And he appears to be recruiting."

"It seems that there is much that I do not know. What is his end?"

I shrug. "Pass. At a guess, establishing oppressive order through fear because he can't stand people doing things that he didn't authorise, but I haven't had a conversation with him. Ah, and since he's been assassinating Green Lanterns, if you plan on drawing any of them away from the Guardians, I wouldn't recommend having anything to do with him."

"And if I am not?"

"I don't know his motives well enough to advise you. I had a look at your law books while I was in your prison system and I didn't find anything I found especially objectionable. You centralised power to a degree I consider impractical, but you're already working to fix that. Individual citizens had a degree of personal liberty I consider reasonable. Last time Sinestro ruled a planet, his people didn't get that."

I shrug.

"Perhaps he's changed since then. Perhaps not. I don't know."

"You have not sought him out yourself?"

"I've already got one big war to contend with. I could alienate friends and allies by just talking to him. Dox did, but I've made a point of not asking him what they talked about."

"For what reason?"

"Plausible deniability. It sounds a lot more convincing if I can say 'I haven't had any conversations with Sinestro' than 'I've spoken to Sinestro but we didn't talk about that specific thing'."

"I am puzzled. You seemed to be of what you yourself described as utilitarian character. From what little you have said of Sinestro, it seems to me that your foes would most likely be his as well. Wherefore then have you not made common cause?"

"Because of what comes next. Sure, Sinestro could grab a bunch of fearmongers and wage war with the Reach, and that may help us. But someday the war will be over. And then we'll have to deal with him, the region of space he commands and his army of veteran Lanterns. Based on what he did with his own world when he controlled it, his views on the best form of life and mine are irreconcilable."

"May a man not amend his mind?"

"He could, but the Green Lantern Corps probably expect him to serve a sentence for his crimes against them before they'll be happy for him to play a role in galactic politics. I'd be creating a problem in my relations with them as well as creating a problem for later. And… Speaking of relations with the Green Lantern Corps… What exactly do you want?"

He holds up his right hand, green flames flickering and then billowing, dripping onto the deck before dissipating.

"Three centuries they imprisoned me. Three centuries I railed against their arrogance in believing that they knew best. Then I gained my freedom, and saw the havoc my absence had wrought. Their fault in keeping me from my subjects. But though it galls me to admit-"

He clenches his hand into a fist, suffocating the flames.

"-it, mine as well. It is a poor teacher who cripples his students' minds that he may never be surpassed. So I have resolved thusly: I have just grievances against the Guardians, but they are no mortal insult. I will not regard Green Lanterns I encounter as my enemies, saving that they act against me. Neither shall I seek any retribution against their masters. But I will stretch forth my hand, and they may take that as they will."

"That's surprisingly reasonable. Would you object to a senior Green Lantern approaching you directly, to discuss things in detail?"

"None. Though it may be best if they are skilled in the arts of diplomacy. Thus far I have met three Corpsmen and fought all three."

"I'll bear that in mind. So what progress have you made on forging rings?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th September 2012
10:32 GMT -7

Niko Parish flexes her wings self-consciously.

"Grayven… I wouldn't… Even know where to start. I'm… An atheist."

I smile. "I'll try not to take that personally."

"I know.. you exist, that's not-." She awkwardly rubs her left forearm with her right hand. The newly restored flesh is paler than the rest of her body, angel flesh apparently immune to the Nevada sun. "Not what I meant. I don't think I can call up the power of God just because you got me new wings."

"That's a surprisingly reverential attitude for someone who doesn't believe. Niko, literally no one -very much including me- should have the power that I now have, and if you can't fix this I have to talk to Metron and I really don't want to have to do that."

Another wing-fluff. "Is God actually..?"

"Anything like the version that exists in modern Christian mythology? No, no, not really. Did you see that interview I did about the Source Wall?"

"I've watched it. It just… I can't connect that with…"

She lifts her right hand off her arm and points at her left wing.

"Ah. Well, I don't have anything like the level of knowledge that would be required to give you an answer. The best I can do is to say that whatever intelligence is 'guiding' the universe doesn't directly intervene. And doesn't appear to indirectly intervene in a way that couldn't easily be something else."

"So what does that make you?"

"Sufficient power can change the universe just by being. For all I know my distant ancestors had some weird metabolic quirk which causes them to parasitise on the Wall itself. Or we were created by the last species that worked out how to do that; our historical records aren't great."

And she's gone back to rubbing her arm.

"How are you managing?"

"Being able to climb ladders is nice."

She turns away, walking over to the external window. Rebuilding work is still going on throughout Aberrance's industrial areas, and the view from this portacabin with aspirations above its station is nothing like what it was from her old office in the now-demolished Uncorporation building. Other than the building sites, the most obvious change is the significantly increased military presence. Soldiers in light power armour guard military engineers as they perform a full decontamination of the underground tunnels and then convert them into utility tunnels and subways. A project Magnificus has been working on; his father had some sort of radiation absorbing technology he was sitting on, and this is affording us the opportunity to demonstrate its utility. The power armour is Sam's, as he finally beat enough heads together to take control of the seventeen separate power armour development projects the various tendrils of the US government had in progress and told the people involved that he'd prosecute them all for fraud if they didn't come up with something for deployment.

It's not terrible. It outperforms that bipedal pile of scrap the Russians think is power armour by a lot and is only about a hundred times as expensive. And when you've actually got a Colonel whose name is 'Perseus Hazard', you may as well use him for something thematically appropriate. The input from my people is limited to the warding, which… Not exactly true to my 'hand up not handout' principles, but it's going to be a long time before they can have magicians assigned on a squad basis.

"Security has to keep tossing crazies off the lot. More than normal."

"So when can we expect you to give birth to Jesus?"

"That's not as funny as you think." She freezes up for a second. "Ah."

She looks-.

"No."

"OhthankGod."

"I mean, it's not impossible that any child you had would have a natural insight into theurgy, but they wouldn't be a prophesised saviour of any sort, and they're no more likely to be a reincarnation of someone than anyone else."

"I'd get my tubes tied, but I think the wings would just heal them."

I grin. "You-".

No, no, this isn't the time for a Themyscira reference.

"I didn't mean how are the un-men doing. They survived one crazy wizard, they'll survive another one. How is Niko Parish doing?"

"I'm fine. Physically I'm better than ever. And somehow-" She holds her forearms up slightly so that she can compare them. "-the fact that my blood is silver hasn't changed anything. It-. I was worried it might take out my un-man tissue, but that's all still there."

"I thought that Cranius rewired part of your nervous system to enable you to control your wings."

"He did, and the new nerves he put in are still there. They just go somewhere else now. Did you find out why I picked-" She clenches and then unclenches her left hand. "-this arm to get rid of?"

"Yellow ring picked up a traumatic memory, but I didn't take a closer look."

"I fixated on the arm as being what was wrong, pushing every feeling I had about everything else-. Putting that on the arm. When Cranius said I'd have to get rid of something I told him right away, 'cut if off'. I told myself I was getting rid of everything wrong with my old life along with it. But-. Well, it's not like nothing changed, but I was still the same woman. But with new friends and a pair of wings that didn't work properly."

"But the problem wasn't the arm."

"No, but I got really good at repressing."

I nod slowly. "As I said, anything you want to talk to me about will be treated in complete confidence."

"That's the thing, though." She puts her arms down, making a dismissive gesture with her newly acquired left hand. "I've had years of living a good life. Once I got over the shock of you knowing, I realised… I hadn't thought about it for a… Long time. It didn't control me."

"Good, I'm pleased for you." I nod. "Is there anyone you would like me to arrange a meeting with?"

"Yes. The FBI agent responsible for the investigation into Mitchell Byrne's murder."

"I can set that up. So…" I point at her pale left hand. "No problem with that at all?"

"Cranius wants me to wear jackets with the left sleeve in a different colour, and I'm having trouble picking out nail polish that goes with my skin tone. And The Face is calling it my 'ghost hand'."

"I can guess the context. Do you want to talk to anyone about using magic?"

"I probably should. You don't have any other angel body parts laying around, do you?"

I briefly recall that John Constantine's shed contained a barrel marked 'angel semen'.

"Alas, no, though if that changes I'll be certain to let Cranius know." Ah… "Look, I appreciate that you don't know how to use your arcane abilities yet, but I really don't want to have to talk to Metron, so-."

"Isn't that..? God's messenger?"

"No, that's the Metatron. Metron is a New God. Not sure whether he was from Apokolips or New Genesis originally, though given how he behaves I'd guess Apokolips. He's an explorer and scientist with no morals at all and a bad habit of stealing credit for other people's work. On the face of it he shouldn't have any problem taking a portion of the Omega Force off my hands just because he's never had an opportunity to study it before. He'd take the colour green off someone's hands if he got to dissect it afterwards. But he's such an arsehole about everything."

Niko nods, walks up to me, then lays her left hand on my forehead.

…

"No, sorry." She withdraws her hands and smiles apologetically. "Nothing happening. How about I pack you some aspirin?"

"Pack me the whole willow. I'm going to need it."

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th September 2012
18:22 GMT

Lord Malvolio holds his third ring-blank in his left hand as it slowly evaporates.

"And so it ever is. See you anything awry in my process?"

I shake my head slowly.

"No, but I only saw a small part of what you did. You… Your green glow is so bright that it's difficult for me to see what you're doing in any detail."

I barely remember what the process for forging a ring was in the comics, just… Ganthet scowling and treating the whole thing like forging a ring with metal. I assume that it was a limitation of the medium, but… Kalmin uses equipment to handle it as well. Maybe it's something that can't be handled by a person just with their connection to the relevant colour.

I could ask Hinon, or one of the other Controllers who've been forging rings for the Corps. Except that the techniques they use might not work for me, and that would implicate them in the whole 'helping Lord Malvolio' thing.

Would someone from 17th century Manchester actually have been called 'Malvolio'? It's a possibility, Shakespeare's plays would have been in circulation if that's where his mother got it from. Given how he was puzzled by me not wanting to give the other Lanterns' names, it certainly seems plausible.

If his parents wanted a joker, well… I imagine that they'd be surprised by how he turned out.

"I suppose… Maybe they shouldn't be created as separate units, but paired with particular lanterns. Do you have a normal sized personal lantern?"

"Nay. Priest was of the opinion that personal lanterns are a crutch best avoided."

I blink.

"What?"

"He instructed me that they were an unnecessary crutch, much as a man who has lived a life free from sin has no need of indulgences."

"So… You… Don't need to recharge your ring?"

"I do not. I see that you are surprised."

"Surprised that it's possible, and surprised that you got the hang of it back in the seventeenth century."

"What does the age matter to the nature of a man's soul?"

"Fair point. I just meant that you wouldn't have had all that much time to get the hang of it before running out of power."

"Priest reinvigorated my ring when its fires began to ebb. His tutelage is why my domains are an entire Sector and not merely limited to the Earth, and the memory of the time where we worked together is why I refuse to slay him for his later treachery."

"How long did it take you to learn?"

"I do not know. We were far from the star of Earth, and the training was too exhausting for me to keep track of the passage of days." He regards me with curiosity. "You mean to say that you have always recharged from your lantern?"

"Yes. Except for the time I was bonded to the Ophidian, but I assumed… The part of us that was her was handling that."

"Priest warned me that it might take longer than a normal man's mortal span to learn the required techniques. Even now he questions my mastery."

"Did he ever make a central power battery?"

Lord Malvolio actually smiles.

"Methinks that he would condescend even unto the Guardians for their reliance on such fripperies. No, he did not."

"Modern Earth has a saying: perfect is the greatest enemy of good enough. One powerful Lantern, however impressive, just won't achieve as much as a dozen who need personal lanterns. I don't think that the Guardians would intentionally cripple their Lanterns, so there must be something else going on."

"A man may oil and sharpen his sword without caring a whit for its wellbeing."

"Yes, but it's still sharp and free from rust at the end of that. 'You can recharge without a personal lantern' is just… Too big a deal."

"I think there is more to the affair on their part, but in truth I do not know them well enough to be sure in my condemnation."

They did have Guy researching high complexity techniques… But I'm focusing on ring crafting at the moment, and I'd rather get a cooperation agreement in place before asking Guy to talk to the man who punched Jordan through a planet. Guy loves the Green Lantern Corps, and I can't see that conversation going well.

"Okay, so you've never tried forging a ring using a personal lantern?"

"Having none, I have not."

"I'll give it a go then." I float my newly created personal lantern up to me. "Please don't mess me about when I transubstantiate."

"Continue at your leisure."

Okay then. I don't step out, but rather hold up the lantern in my left hand and press my right hand against the spout part.

Rings are a focus of the desires of their users, but… I don't think anyone wants a ring purely to have the ring. I mean, in some places it's a status symbol, but what they want is the status. Others want all sorts of outcomes…

Are there any ring-shaped desires in here? Preferably marked with the orange sigil? I can search for desires relating to control and creation and shape them, but I've got no more reason to believe that will work than…

Anything else I could try, so I may as well try it as well, I suppose.

The Honden is now richly decorated in ring-adjacent desires, and I regularly check them to make sure that no one in my Corps is heading for crazy town.

Ring-adjacent…

Do rings have spirits? Are ring AIs spirits? I wasn't joking about thinking that I might end up coming here full time once I die properly, so I suppose…

Is there anything here that doesn't fit?

Yes, my Agent.

Other than you, you beautiful snake you.

Yes, my Agent. Here.

Oh. That's…

Interesting.

I withdraw my right hand, a ring around my right ring finger.

"You have managed the feat? How?"

"I don't think I have." I take a closer look at the ring. Simple design, no additional AI… "This is Larfleeze's ring. It was destroyed when I… Died. Completely disintegrated by qwa-matter. It-."

Malvolio's head jerks up, and his face twists into a snarl.

"Your pardon, Lord Illustres, but it seems that I must return home. Some fool has tried to release mine most contentious prisoner."

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th September 2012
18:27 GMT

"Lanterns dismissed, Lord Malvolio, thank you, you've been a most courteous host and I'll be happy to entertain you if you're ever near Earth or-"

I grab and subspace my personal lanterns.

"-Maltus, excuse me."

I step out, the desire to be ruled by Lord Malvolio

being somewhat distinctive and limited to one region.

"Illustres to WHATEVER IDIOT JUST DECIDED TO PICK A FIGHT WITH LORD MALVOLIO I HOPE YOUR LIFE INSURANCE IS UP TO DATE."

Right, I got a reasonable map update last time I was in the area, though I've got no idea where Priest was hiding out or what changes have happened since. Ships… They're not posing near their internal borders any longer, but patrolling the entire region as a unified navy.

He's really brought the region together.

The void that there used to be around the system he was imprisoned in is gone, but I'm detecting something not too different around… Oh, that's a bit mean. A desolate system whose most interesting feature is what appeared when I scanned it to be the remains of a broken-up super-Earth. Now there's a huge green barrier around the whole thing that looks like it's on fire.

Ring, find me whoever it is that's taking the piss.

"Urine-extractors found."

And of course it's a squad of Green Lanterns.

"I know you people received my first message. Lord Malvolio knows that you're here and he's heading back."

Two I don't recognise. One is a standard pattern humanoid male who has somehow combined a Mohican with a pony tail. There's a treeman along with Apros and…

Of course they sent him.

"Guy Gardner pick up your gosh darn ring."

In the distance I see Guy look around, though the light I'm emitting won't reach him for days and my tattoos will prevent his ring picking me up.

Then his face appears over my ring.

"Hey Paul. What's up?"

"I was having a pleasant conversation with Lord Malvolio, learning all about his future plans and how he can make Central Power Batteries, and then he got a message that someone was trying to burgle him."

"This ain't a burglary. It's a prison break."

"Guy, Lord Malvolio heard about this when I did. He's heading back now."

"And?"

"And he punched Jordan through one side of a planet and out of the other. He can make Central Power Batteries."

"Can he make crumblers?"

"His ring doesn't have AI support, so probably not. On the other hand he definitely can lock you in an inescapable prison the size of a star system."

"You got out."

"Priest -the man you're trying to gaol-break- built that prison. Lord Malvolio built the one now imprisoning him."

"So?"

"And that's assuming that he doesn't flat out kill you."

"He couldn't kill Lantern Priest."

"He decided not to kill Lantern Priest because he owed him and felt grateful that Priest didn't leave him in Salford to work out the ring for himself. Guy, has the Green Lantern Corps attempted diplomacy?"

"We can try that ahftah we've got our guy back."

"No, no you can't, because that's the Green Lantern Corps announcing that they don't care about borders or cooperation agreements and are fine with declaring war on an entire Sector."

"Just Malvolio."

"Do you know what his popularity rating around here is?"

"I dunno. Like, five percent or som-."

"More like ninety five. Maybe higher."

"Sinestro had 'bowt a hundred percent. Right up 'til Hal kicked his keister."

"Sinestro had maybe thirty percent and controlled all media. I'm an empath. You think I can't see how many people want Malvolio ruling them?"

Guy sighs.

"Wha'd'yah want me t'do, Paul?"

"Approach Lord Malvolio directly and negotiate for Priest's release."

"You saying we should trade fer him?"

"Lord Malvolio ruled this Sector when Priest trapped him. I'm fairly sure that's a crime. The Guardians didn't send a team to break Jordan out of prison when he got locked up for drunk driving, did they?"

"That ain't tha same thing."

"Okay, what's the difference?"

"Hal didn't murder a Green Lantern first."

"Lord Malvolio says that he thought the man was a demon. And given when he did it, that's a pretty credible explanation. And it was four hundred years ago. And it's not like the Green Lantern Corps hasn't recruited people who've killed -and eaten- other Lanterns before."

"I didn't hire Chummuck, but Chummuck's got with the program. He didn't conquer a Sector an' he didn't murder anyone. And I don't negotiate with terrorists."

"The Green Lantern Corps on the other hand negotiated with the Psions, the Reach, Larfleeze, the Manhunters and me when I was joined with the Ophidian. Could you not at least try talking to him before starting a war?"

"Paul, it-." Guy pauses, and looks at me quizzically. "You sayin' you ain't on our side?"

"If Lord Malvolio declares war on the Green Lantern Corps, the Orange Lantern Corps would be neutral. If you're out of action but not killed I'd evacuate you without your ring, but that's-"

"Oh, thanks."

"-all I can do. Compared to what the Reach or the Spider Guild do every day, Malvolio ruling One Six Three Four is a non-iss-."

"Warning! Will detected!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th September 2012
18:31 GMT

"-ue."

Green fire billows in the void, swelling into the shape… Of a fortified gate, heavy wood with iron reinforcement.

"Alright, heads up guys. Chief asshole incoming."

The other Green Lanterns turn away from the barrier, forming shield constructs.

"Guy, he punched Jordan through a planet."

Guy and Apros form multi-layered construct armour around themselves while the other two spread out into flanking positions.

"You feel like helpin' out, that's great."

"I feel like slapping you upside the head, you… Dummy."

Which if you're from 'Baldamore', serves both as a term of endearment and an insult. Which from Guy's smile, he knows that I know.

"Ayo, you do care."

"I'll try to make sure that you don't die if you agree to do the same."

"Hand on heart: I'll make sure I don't die too."

Which is actually what I want him to say.

"Illustres out."

Another surge of green flame and the door is thrown open. Something… I can't quite make sense of the flash of… Something beyond the door, but I see it clearly when Lord Malvolio storms out, the green fire surrounding the door appearing to stick to him.

"What scurrilous yaldson dares to intrude upon mine domain?"

Technically inaccurate, though I doubt that Guy would complain, true or false.

"To arms!"

And I immediately detect the closest fleets turn in our direction, while those a little further away change direction-. They're getting in position to intercept if the local Green Lanterns flee.

I fly towards Malvolio-. Is he going to have ring communications? I remember that Alan did, but that it had all sorts of technical problems. Try it; it's not like I can shout from here.

"Illustres to Lord Malvolio. Please respond."

I talked about it with Alan once, what it was like to try flying long distance in space without an AI. Apparently he and Doctor Knight went to the moon once, but when the two of them discussed the astrophysics of the system they both decided against trying to fly to Mars. No AI meant he'd have to rely on a construct telescope to see the object he was flying towards. No AI meant no speedometer. He could accelerate far harder than any rocket ship but FTL was a struggle requiring him to bend space manually with a full understanding of exactly what he was doing to spacetime. Essentially, he decided that it wasn't worth it.

Malvolio clearly has no such problem. Though I don't know where the door came from.

"Illustres to-."

He looks directly at me, and I raise my right hand in an awkward wave, slowing my travel as I do so.

"The manner of your leave-taking left a little to be desired."

"Sorry, but I felt that getting here ahead of you gave me the best chance of preventing bloodshed."

"And how fare you?"

"I haven't necessarily been entirely successful. But if you could give me a little more time-"

The door doesn't fade so much as get sucked into his flaming aura.

"-I'm reasonably hopeful that I can talk them down."

"Have they made aught progress in their maleficent designs?"

"Not as far as I could see."

"Then we shall see if my steel fares better than your honey."

The glow intensifies and he's gone, flying towards Guy at extremely fast sublight speed.

No. No. No…

"Illustres to Gardner. Look, you can probably get out before he reaches you if you make an effort."

"He know how to block Crumbler shots?"

"Ah, I haven't told him, but I can't guarantee-."

"This is th' job, Paul. Stand back and watch us kick his ass. Or you can always say-"

I watch him generate a minigun construct just big enough for crumbler ammunition.

"-you told me so."

Guy strikes a pose and opens fire, my ring tracking the trajectory of his shots. Malvolio sends forth a gout of green flame, causing the sophisticated anti-construct rounds to be destroyed without activating.

"Ah, sh-."

The ring communication cuts out as the fight takes all of his attention.

Apros is hanging back a little, his preferred avenue of attack being telepathy. Neither Malvolio nor his constructs seem perturbed, but Apros is able to space swim around Malvolio's burning beams.

Oh, for goodness' sake.

I don't want to attack either party. I want this to stop, preferably before anyone-

Having trained with me, Guy's much better at dodging Lord Malvolio's punches than Jordan was. He's having trouble, though. He should really have disengaged by now; that's standard protocol for Lanterns fighting super strong opponents.

-dies. What should I do?

Malvolio manages a glancing blow and Guy goes spinning through the void, construct armour exploding outward from where Malvolio's fist hit it. Ablative armour is great against crumblers, but not anything like as good for more simple attacks. Guy recreates his armour as I try and work out what he's doing. Is he intentionally tanking? That-.

Guy's a little slow recovering and this time takes a punch to the chest. He hurtles towards the barrier imprisoning Priest while Lord Malvolio goes in for a follow up attack.

Apros intercepts him, his construct tentacles being incinerated almost as quickly as they're being made.

I need to stop-.

I fly towards the barrier as the two Lanterns I don't recognise pelt Lord Malvolio with green bolts of energy, which as far as I can tell doesn't even distract him as he stops burning the tentacles and starts pulling them towards himself.

Okay, barrier, barrier.

I unfocus, searching inside for-. Ah, it's not decontaminated. We can feel the desires of those who were on the other side, and something of the patterns of their lives. We transubstantiate, flying along the corridors until we are where they were. And then we appear-.

"Oh dear. This really wasn't necessary."

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th September 2012
18:34 GMT

A wall of rock projects upwards four thousand kilometres from the shattered planet's cold outer core and gosh I love seeing sites like this. Krypton's fragments glittered but there's something… Some sense of absoluteness of a rock face that couldn't exist on any surface just being here. The mind can scarcely comprehend it; I'm having to shake my head as my brain tries to tell me that it is a floor and not a wall. And there's no atmosphere and no horizon so I can see until the end of it.

I need to bring Jade somewhere like this. I don't know if she'll appreciate it in the way that I do-.

"You were the one who released Malvolio, were you not?"

I tear my eyes from the vertiginous vista and drop them to Lantern Priest himself. He's hairless, red-skinned and wears a simple white robe which leaves his arms bare. His arms are long enough that his hands rest on the ground when he's standing upright, and the only protective clothing he's wearing are the two large bracers which cover both his forearms and the backs of his hands. A gold coloured plate covers his head from the middle of his forehead over the top of his head and back to the base of his skull. A pale yellow force field protects him from the environment and his eyes are sheer black ovals set diagonally into his face.

"Yes, that's me. Pleased to meet you in person."

"You are more interesting in person. Why are you here?"

"Some Green Lanterns decided to break you out. Lord Malvolio is fighting them now. I tried to encourage them to negotiate, but neither were particularly interested."

"I had thought that Malvolio was beyond such pettiness by now."

"Exactly what sort of pettiness are you referring to?"

"Using violence as his first recourse."

"I'm.. not sure that that's what he did. He went to Karax to learn more about the Green Lanterns, and I had a lengthy talk with him about Lanterning in general before Green Lantern Guy Gardner tripped the alert."

"Another human?"

"Oh. Right. Yes, we're off the 'Do Not Recruit' list. A Green Lantern called Abin Sur needed a replacement desperately while he was on Earth, and since Lantern Jordan turned out alright the Guardians okayed the rest of us."

"He did not demonstrate Malvolio's superlative abilities?"

"No. Guy's better, but none of them are Lord Malvolio. My friend Alan's a little closer, but he uses a blue ring these days."

"Ah, Earth."

"We get that a lot. Look… Do you mind being here?"

"Compared to what?"

"Any other location that we could negotiate."

"Now that I am freed from the need to confine Malvolio, I have the opportunity to continue my own studies of the green light of will. My only concern is what Malvolio is doing without my oversight. When he controlled this region he made himself the focus of-."

"Of their entire society and they couldn't function without him. He knows, and he wants to fix that this time."

Priest reaches up to stroke his chin with his right hand.

"That surprises me. I had thought him too inflexible to consider modifying his approach. Perhaps in a few centuries he might truly understand the green light."

"Right, but what about you?"

"It… Might be interesting to see what Malvolio does with his freedom."

"Last time we spoke, you told me that his will was crowding out the will of everyone else."

"That is not limited to Malvolio. The confident can inspire others to follow their example through their certainty. Life is full of things that inspire uncertainty, and it is a natural response to find this state uncomfortable."

I nod.

"'Make me an autocrat and I'll solve your problems without any of that confusing 'free will' business.' I'm familiar with the idea."

"His command of the green light takes him beyond the abilities of mundane tyrants."

"The conclusion then being that strong Lanterns should avoid other people so they don't contaminate their thought processes?" I shake my head. "That's not a viable solution, even if the effect is as strong as you're implying. Look, what sort of assurance that he's improving do you want?"

"'Do I want' in order to achieve what end?"

"To tell the visiting Greenies that you don't want to be rescued so that I can talk them into standing down so that neither they nor Lord Malvolio die."

"Have the Guardians renewed their sentence of death?"

I frown. "I'm… Not exactly the first person they'd tell-." Wait. He wouldn't-. "I don't work for the Guardians."

"Then where did you get that ring?"

Because he's been stuck in this Sector for hundreds of years and so hasn't heard anything about the Orange Lantern Corps. He probably hasn't heard of Sinestro and the fact that Qwardians can make power rings.

"I'd be happy to fully brief you later, but a friend and an ally of mine are trying to kill each other now."

"I was willing to leave the Corps rather than kill Malvolio when I last received that order. The fact that he has moderated his position has not led me to change my mind for the worse."

"I-. You have conditions for your rescuers?"

"I am content to remain here. If they want me to leave, there are things they must do."

"Ah, okay?"

"Malvolio acts as he does due to his concern for the people of this region, not because he covets power for its own sake. I will not go anywhere without a peace treaty between his Sector and the Green Lantern Corps."

"And from Lord Malvolio?"

Priest hesitates, then looks upward at the burning green universe above us.

"A better view might be nice."

"Okay. I'll see what I can do. Excuse me."

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th September 2012
18:37 GMT

Following Guy's desires back is simple, though I'm careful to

leave enough of a gap that I'm not immediately caught up in the melee. Ships… Yes, they're not too far away now. Close enough that they could get closer and join in the fight if Malvolio wanted them to. I'd guess that he doesn't think they're powerful enough to do much against a Green Lantern of Guy's power.

Guy fires a construct-American football at Malvolio's momentarily exposed head as Apros explodes spatial charges all around him. Malvolio catches the ball without looking and uses the connection to Guy's ring to pull him closer. Guy tries to strengthen the link and toss him aside, but with a small grimace realises that he can't. A shotgun construct appears next to him and shoots the green link connecting him to the ball, the crumbler round severing the link and allowing him to evade Malvolio's volley. Apros makes more mine constructs and does something to cause them to shrink before sending them in Malvolio's direction of travel.

Where are the other t-? Oh. Mohawk-ponytail is collecting bits of treeman, who glows as he tries to reassemble himself. Okay, no one dead yet, I've got a chance.

"Illustres to closest blond Green Lantern."

"Lan-." His face appears above my ring, clearly somewhat distracted by the ally he's shielding while he reassembles his torso. "You. Did you get Priest?"

"I spoke to Priest, and he's not impressed about this. He wants to stay here and for you to leave."

"Why?"

"Because he thinks he can turn Malvolio into a better Sector Lantern, and because he doesn't think that his imprisonment is worth killing over."

I transition over to them, block an instinctual energy bolt and play a purple ray over the treeman's injury. It responds reasonably well, dead and dying wood coming back to life and growing back into the whole.

"Mind telling me your names?"

"Green Lantern Avir. Sorry."

I glance at him. "What for?"

"Lantern Vinkent." Treeman Vinkent checks his torso for damage, but finds nothing. "Thank you, but I must return-."

I stick a construct harness around him.

"No. I healed you. If you get back into the fight then I've picked a side. You're sidelined."

Avir raises his ring.

"That-."

"I wouldn't have been able to fight on."

"You could have your ring sub someone in, but around here that would probably result in it either going to someone who would support Malvolio, or to someone in your home Sector who wouldn't know what was going on."

Avir considers for a moment, glancing back to where the two Honour Guard Lanterns are sheltering under a shared shield as Malvolio bombards them with construct cannons.

"Fine."

He flies back towards the fight, fishing something out of his equipment harness as he does so.

"Right. Lantern Vinkent, please tell me exactly why you're here."

"To rescue former Lantern Priest and gain intelligence on Malvolio."

"And was that Guy's idea, or was he ordered to do it by the Guardians?"

"The Guardians-. He said they were okay with it."

So they didn't specifically order it, but given Guy I can't tell whether 'okay' means that they didn't protest or that they strongly advised it. Guy's not going to answer me while he's-

I'm mildly touched as I see that he's taken a leaf out of my book and switched to railguns with iron slugs.

-busy shooting his target. Who can tell me more? Whichever Guardian gave him his original orders and is presumably monitoring him a little more closely than they do most Green Lanterns, but I don't know which of them that is. No way to learn more, then. Who can tell Guy to knock it off? Illustres Chaselon, whoever the other Illustres is, Clarissi Salaak and any of the Guardians.

Who might actually take my call?

"Ring, contact Illustres Chaselon."

"Compliance."

I hadn't bothered with sorting out an official Corps to Corps point of contact because I know that any of the Earth Green Lanterns would answer me and two of them are Honour Guard Lanterns. But between him and Salaak-.

Chaselon's eyes appear above my ring. He doesn't say anything.

"Guy Gardner, Apros and Avir are presently fighting Lord Malvolio, ruler of Sector One Six Three Four. Are they supposed to be?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Because I'd like them to stop and discuss their differences and not actually fight unless they were irreconcilable."

"What is your stake in who wins?"

"Ah, Guy's a friend of mine, and Malvolio has peacefully unified a Sector that had been at war with itself. Malvolio also has some non-standard ideas about what power rings can do that I'd like to study more myself."

He rotates away to look at something off-camera for a moment.

"Honour Guard Lantern Gardner's order to research esoteric Green Lantern abilities comes from the Guardians. I can't countermand it."

"Guardians or a Guardian?"

"I don't have access to that information. If the Guardians have disagreements, they resolve them in private."

"But if he hasn't specifically been ordered to fight or kill Malvolio?"

"Then he could be ordered to stop. But if a Guardian declines to make such an order, the rest will probably follow their lead and leave Lantern Gardner to it."

"I don't suppose you know which Guardian originally ordered Malvolio's death, do you?"

"No."

Ugh. Okay, it sounds like Chaselon is prepared to put me through to a Guardian. But that Guardian might want Malvolio dead or locked up. Or they might consider it to not be part of their range of responsibilities. That's why I'm not asking to be referred right to Apa Ali Apsa, who would probably find this Sector to be an interesting case study. Ganthet's usually Earth's go-to Guardian, but I know for a fact that he was also the one who backed Jordan's decision to remove Sinestro from office. Sayd, maybe? I don't have good records on the rest of the Guardians-.

"Ring, second channel. Message to Hinon. Need to stop Green Lantern fighting someone with weird green light powers before someone dies. Which Guardian do I ask? Send."

"Message sent. Response received. 'Guardian Broome Bon Baris'."

…

I suppose that you can't vivisect someone if they're dead…

"Chaselon, could you put me through to Guardian Broome Bon Baris? I'll try and get her to call Guy off."

"Try. Yes."