With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Thread Fourteen)

[Mr Zoat]

8th November 2012
12:17 GMT -5

Alan frowns as we pass what appears to be the same door for the twelfth time.

"Are you sure we're going somewhere?"

Dr. Balewa smiles faintly as he nods. I glace to my left, watching the two brownies who are bringing up the rear as we ascend the Penrose stairs. We entered via a door in-. Well, about a third of the way back on the rotation, and we're been going around and around since. After the third I made a mark on the staircase just in case, and, yes, we've gone past it each time.

"Yes. Orange Lantern marked the floor, but not the doors. They change each time we rotate."

I knew that areas like this existed in the Tower of Fate, with a featureless void all around and staircases with variable gravitational pull all throughout it. I've just managed to avoid spending time here until now. In the distance I can see other staircases in the void, but they don't appear to connect to ours and I'm not sure what would happen if I tried flying to them.

Sanderson looks over the edge at the drop. "Ah, how exactly is any of this 'orderly'?"

"It is closer to being orderly in the absolute sense, rather than in the limited human sense."

"Ah…"

"The human mind is evolved to understand things thet it usually encounters in the world. But the world is not an orderly or rational place." He looks around at-. Yes, very droll. "Here is an order beyond anything thet you hev known. As orderly as can exist in and still interact with the material universe."

"If we cut the Plane of Order off from Earth completely, what happens?"

"Massive arcane instability. Indeed, it may be thet the magic systems of the Earth become incapable of stability without an element of Order." He stops and turns around so that he can look directly into my face. "Please, do not do it."

I acquiesce with a nod.

"Here." Urisk takes hold of a door handle and pulls it open. "Demon spoor. The one who came with you."

"Who else?"

"Order. Chaos-." He jerks his hand away, wincing. "The Empty One."

I frown. "Doctor Mist, wasn't Blackbriar Thorn the primary vector for the Anti-Life fragment? Isn't that why the brownies are free?"

"We know thet there are more fragments. There being another is.. concerning, but hardly beyond our expectations."

Alan nods. "It's in Quinn, right? It would.. have to be."

"I hev been assuming so, but… No. Without some idea of what happened, there is no reason to assume so. It may be thet we hev already freed him."

He makes a motion with his hand and Urisk steps away from the door. Alan and I reengage our defences, then nod. He pushes it open and then walks briskly inside.

I follow-.

Huh.

A… Machine? A mechanism… In parts, at least. I can see rotating cogs and platforms with runic inscriptions whose shapes I don't recognise. Glowing crystals are.. common, forming patterns or.. just laid along the edges of parts of the device. There's a.. large screw in a central location. Nothing seems to be directly attached to it, though two platforms it sticking through their central hole.

Magic technology far in advance of anything I've seen before. But… Some parts…

"Is that New God technology?"

"You would be best placed to-." Dr. Balewa winces as golden lightning dances around his fingers.

Alan look concerned. "Are you okay?"

"It was not an attack. This much power, focused… It is like touching an electrified fence. It has been some time since I hev encountered…"

He takes a few steps forward, gazing up at the device.

"Something like this."

"Is it safe for me to fly?"

"Do not touch the Ophidian, but, yes."

Ring, start mapping.

Compliance. Warning, mapping high concentration magic devices not reliable.

Do your best.

Compliance.

"Doctor, are these all order-aligned?"

"Yes." He's still looking around, hopefully starting to put things together. "Everything integrated into the structure is resonant with Order."

Alan comes up alongside me. "Something on your mind?"

"I always assumed that John would have an easier time with Chaos than with Order. If he was dumping Order in favour of Chaos, this all fits. But I've seen Quinn with the Helmet dozens of times."

"He didn't have the same trouble."

"And where is he? The Demon got grabbed… Thorn could have teleported him, but why? He's Justified. Unless someone told him otherwise, he'd just infect him and send him at the rest of us."

"Oi! Up here!"

I look up-. Can't see anyone, but there's a big wheel with thin spokes whose rim is blocking my line of sight. I fly up and around-.

Should I feel bad that I feel relieved?

"Demon."

The Demon Constantine has returned to his decayed demonic form, and has lost his shirt. There's a burn scar across the left side of his chest, large but not particularly deep. Chains which look a little like my magic suppression chains bind him to a plinth, which is in turn attached to a series of gears. The whole assemblage looks like it's free to move around the room if appropriately directed by… Someone.

"What are you doing here?"

"What?"

"What. Are. You. Doing. Here? I thought you and Quinn were mates."

"What are you talking about, we-."

My eyes glow orange as I try getting a better look at his psyche. This… This isn't the man we came in with. Not unless he's had massive psychic chirurgery.

"When was the last time you saw me?"

He considers me for a moment. Then some level of realisation dawns. "Azerbaijan. The General's place."

"Not today?"

"No." He smiles unpleasantly. "No, mate. I think you've been had."

I frown.

"That-. Can't, I-." I look around. If that was Quinn with us… Somehow, then this would be the time to attack, but… No, no one here. "What is this place?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th November 2012
12:21 GMT -5

"Buggered if I know. One moment I'm staring at the wall in Belle Reve, the next I'm being strung up here by John."

I wince. "Given the number of people who could reasonably lay claim to the name 'John' that we're dealing with, could you please specify-?"

"Constantine."

"Did you confirm it was him?"

"What d'you mean 'confirm it was him'? You think I can't recognise-?"

"John Quinn looks like a John Constantine who didn't smoke and takes regular exercise. And there was someone claiming to be you who looked a little less rotten but could change his shape. So did you confirm it was John Constantine, or could it have been either of them?"

The Demon looks away a little. "What the hell has he been doing?"

"If I knew that, I-."

"The other me. Where did he come from?"

"He escaped from Belle Reve."

Alan lifts Dr. Balewa up to us. Dr. Balewa blinks for a moment, then frowns.

"He used a blood marker as a resurrection point after inducing the wards in Belle Reve to kill him."

The Demon hesitates for a moment, watching us. Then he gives up, snarling.

"I made that marker! The only way someone else could use it is if they were so close to being me-. Or John made another me."

"Could he do that?"

"Why not? Morals weren't gunna stop him, were they? Maybe get a shield-soul who actually likes the pain, and-."

"No. If there were another soul present, I would hev felt it."

"John Constantine isn't exactly a stranger to pain."

"That's not enough. It's Hell. You can't just tough it-"

"Hey, fellahs! Could one of you take a look at this?!"

"-out."

"Excuse me." I float around the wheel and then fly down towards the sound of Sanderson's voice. He's below where we came in, and-. Upside down, standing on the-.

Wha-?

My orientation just changed. Even wearing my ring, down is now where 'up' was.

"Sandman?"

He raises his right hand, pointing towards-. A glass container, filled with what looks like a miniature dream storm. Glass pipes run off it, eldritch sigils carved lightly into the exterior. Here there are-.

"Doctor Mist! I think I've found Chaos crystals!"

Not a lot of them. There are still more of the golden Order crystals, keeping the whole of the machinery nice and orderly. The sparkly red Chaos crystals should be a discordant element, but… This isn't like any thaumaturgical work I've seen before, but based on the general structure they're… Incorporated. Somehow.

"This is dream sand, isn't it?" He's looking at another, smaller, glass container. "He got this when you freed me. He's been studying it. Working with it."

"Right, but-." I float back, trying to make sense of the gerbil run of glassware. "What does this do?"

"I think-?" Sanderson runs his gloved right hand along one of the sand tubes. "I think it-. Can you fly me down? I mean, up?"

I create a platform for him and he gets on. Okay, the shaft goes that way, the glass tubes appear to gather up there… Ring scan shows some sort of compartment that way, maybe. May as well try it.

"Yeah… That way."

Sanderson is looking up and trying to make sense of things. I'm not sure whether or not Morpheus's gift comes with enhanced senses, but-. Okay, is that some kind of filter? And…

And a large glass-walled booth? Dream storm stuff and dream sand is being… Funnelled into it, obscuring the contents.

"There's…" Sanderson steps of my platform and onto the support struts holding up the booth. "Someone… In there."

"Hello? Do you require assistance?"

"No."

The stuff inside the booth coalesces into… What is-?

Okay, it's an older John, white hair with a receding hairline and generally looking worn down.

"But I fear that you might."

John's original Liverpudlian accent has been worn down by decades of living in London. This man splits the difference between Liverpudlian and Received Pronunciation, and despite his haggard physical appearance his eyes are razor-focused.

"Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

"In our youth, John called me The Golden Boy. As I called him The Sickly Boy."

"I've.. heard of you. I thought that the two of you merged together."

"We did. And given that you know that, perhaps you have some idea what this contrivance is for."

"Pulling you… Out? I half-thought that John Quinn was you."

"A weak attempt at misdirection. In my history-that-never-was, I carried the weight of the world on my shoulders. It was not a light burden."

"So who is John Quinn? And who is the Second Demon Constantine-? You know about the first one?"

He nods sombrely. "We were already merged when we had that stroke of brilliance. I take it that he's down below us as a counterweight?"

"Yes."

"John Constantine, the Hanged Man. You gave him more power than he could bear. Parts of him could cope with the power of Chaos, and parts could cope with the power of Order. But his whole self couldn't cope with both together."

"He used you and the Demon to offload it?"

"No. That wouldn't have worked, but it would have been far less dangerous. Instead, he used us to split himself in two."

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th November 2012
12:25 GMT -5

…

"That makes a horrible amount of sense. So, what was the plan?"

"Each part of himself would grow into their power, and then at some point in the future the two would be brought back together. When they were more accustomed to their power."

"Why doesn't the Demon version remember that? Why did he end up in Belle Reve? And where-? Are they?"

"There wasn't much I could see from here, and the Order aura makes it hard to me to perceive what was happening with my magic. If you're asking for my best guess, it would be that John Constantine doesn't much like John Constantine at the best of times."

"Okay, Quinn beats The Other Demon down and sticks him in Belle Reve in place of the original. Then he carries on with his project of learning to use Order magic fully. At… Some point he gets exposed to the Anti-Life, and without specific protections he gets infected. So if he ever intended to reassemble himself, he certainly isn't going to do that now."

"Oh? Why not?"

"Adding new thoughts would risk throwing off the Anti-Life's control. At least for long enough for him to either use his own magic to expunge it properly or teleport to us."

Except… This whole structure is live.

Xander.

"This thing is stopping them becoming a single person. It didn't force them apart; it's keeping them apart. And killing him… Ah… He's still plugged in, so they'd probably just merge again."

The Golden Man nods. "John Quinn would have to expose him to the Anti-Life first."

Sanderson takes a closer look at the booth. "Do you want us to break you out?"

The Golden Man shakes his head. "I never existed. This edifice is dedicated to maintaining my paradoxical existence."

"Could you exist in the Dream?"

"Possibly, but I like to think that I had a positive effect on John after joining with him. When we merged he was on a very miserable path." He shakes his head. "The world is more than my existence. Do not concern yourself with me unless every other problem is dealt with first."

But we don't know where Quinn or Demon 2 are. If that 'void in the world' person is the ultimate source of the Anti-Life infection-.

I fly down, then up towards The Demon.

"Mist, Demon, can we use this machine to bring Quinn and the other Demon here? Because it can't take that long for Quinn to take him to his Anti-Life source and we don't know where that is."

"Not easily. John Quinn is a mortal man, and his connection to Order is not strong enough to reliably bring him here with this beacon."

The Demon doesn't say anything.

"The Golden Boy is locked up at the other end of the machine. According to him, John Constantine used this to turn himself into two people using Demon One and him as counterweights, or… Something." Dr. Balewa nods thoughtfully. "The machine is holding them apart. Which I'm hoping means that they're still tied to it in some sort of magic sense you can use."

"Let… Let me… Think."

"Demon, I know that you hate John Constantine as much as John Constantine does at his worst, but if he gets Anti-Lifed then he won't exactly be himself any longer. And if he's not himself then he's not suffering because there's no him."

"I worked that out. Thing is, I've also worked out how to make this thing do what you want."

"If you want to do some sort of trade, there's a pretty hard limit on what I'm prepared to offer. The other Demon was getting a pot plant."

"Not the problem. There's probably some dead clever way to make this work, but you're on the clock. You don't have time. Or there's the quick way."

"Talk faster."

"That's the thing, isn't it? I don't know if I want to." He smiles at me with a mouth full of broken teeth. "'course, we both know you could fix that."

"John Quinn has already been exposed to the Anti-Life. As such, the situation isn't severe enough to-."

"I didn't see him using the full power of a Chaos Lord. Which we both know John was. So why might that be?"

"I'd been assuming that The Other Demon got the Chaos magic. If John made him forget about it-."

"Give over, mate. Being a Chaos Lord is pretty fucking obvious. Even if he forgot everything he knew about Chaos magic-."

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Go on then. Show me how clever you are."

"Chances are, John Quinn is all of John Constantine's wisdom, and skill with higher concepts." He looks around for a moment. "Demons aren't really creatures of Order or Chaos, so there's no real reason to split them down the middle. Not when the whole point is to learn to use them together. If he channels most of the power into this place, Quinn could learn to use mid-level Order and Chaos magic."

"Okay, but-?"

"What's my double for?" He shrugs, the chains not allowing him a great deal of movement. "Don't know for sure, but I'd guess that John wanted a bit of him to stay weak. To keep his unwise personality somewhere safe so it wouldn't get overwhelmed."

That… Might explain why he wanted to soak up John's psychic residue… If his whole function is to maintain John's personality…

"And Quinn stuck him in prison because that's the wisest thing he could do." Sounds… Plausible. I glance at Dr. Balewa, who gives me a tentative nod. "So?"

"So it's not just that this place is holding them apart, it's literally where most of the magic is going. So you've got a few choices. You could blow the whole thing up. Do that, they merge back together with the full power of Order and Chaos." Another attempt at a shrug. "Might get rid of the Anti-Life. Might not. Or you can just wait here. He-. They, are gunna want their full power back some time, and they'll have to come here for that. You're a bright lad, you could probably find someone else to channel all that power into."

"Or we could do some sort of ritual with you and The Golden Man."

"The other two were created using us. There's an ongoing thaumic link through this machine." His eyes seem to glow slightly. "Get it right, you might not even have to fight him."

"I.. don't know-" I glance at Dr. Balewa again, but he's deep in thought. "-what sort of ritual that would be."

"Me an' Goldy would merge together. Dead easy to make it ritually equivalent, an' doing it here can easily bring them right back." He looks away for a moment. "John asked about that once, y'know. Merging the two of us back together. I said 'no', but that's probably when I hated him least."

"Are you willing?"

"Am I willing to die for John Constantine? Hm." He relaxes into his chains. "Do I want him to suffer so much that I'm willing to cease existing to give him back my misery?"

He grins fiercely.

"Fuck it. Let's do it."

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th November 2012
12:37 GMT -5

I carefully disconnect the booth from the glass tubes, using constructs to maintain the connections with the intakes along with a little desire to force the Dream-stuff into compliance.

Sanderson doesn't look happy.

"Are you sure about this, Mister..? Ah. Constantine?"

"Given that I know what Lords of Chaos and Lords of Order are, and what the Anti-Life is, I consider it my solemn duty. And if we are truly successful, I hate to imagine what the resulting being would be without my input."

"Yeah, that's…"

"Are you a Christian, Mister Sandman?"

"Yes. I.. go to Saint Patrick's every Sunday."

"Do you understand the nature of Heaven?"

"Ah, yes but… No. I mean, vaguely."

The Golden Man smiles. "Well, that rather undermines the metaphor I wished to use. You understand at least that it isn't like your mortal life?"

"Yes."

"I never truly lived. In this world I am a product of the strange magic which surrounds John Constantine. I remember having a long and fruitful life and now, rather than being asked to die, I am merely asked to adopt a new form. To be myself, and something a little different. To fulfil a purpose that I never really had. Do not mourn. Rather, rejoice that I had this opportunity."

"What.. do you mean, you're a product of Mister Constantine's magic?"

The Golden Man looks at me. "How well do you know the story?"

"Ah, short version? Their mother was pregnant with twins. In our timeline, John lived and he died. In his, John died and he lived."

"Made all the more confusing by the fact that my name is 'John' as well. Though I note that you didn't mention that my death was due to a botched amateur abortion carried out by my father, which also caused my mother's death."

"What?"

"That's.. because I didn't know that."

Damn. Did John know-? No, the two of them were merged, he certainly knows. And that might go some way to explaining his extremely strained relationship with his father.

I set the booth down on this side of the central walkway, Alan carrying The Demon down to the other side where Dr. Balewa is working on interfacing with the machine without destroying himself.

What's the line from Hogfather? If it's kill or cure and the subject is immortal, I think we're on to a winner.

"Oi, Golden Boy!"

"Yes, Sickly Boy?"

The Demon ambles over to the part of the platform closest to us, crouching down and peering at the booth.

"I don't hate you personally. John never gave me any of his memories of you." He shrugs. "I just hate you on principle."

"But you're prepared to do this anyway?"

"I hate him more."

"That seems like a poor reason. Are you certain-?"

"Might be poor, but it's mine." He stands, and looks over to Dr. Balewa. "You planning on taking all day?"

"I believe thet I am ready. Everyone?"

I take a moment to draw upon what I remember of John Constantine's desires from the Honden of Avarice.

"Yes. Ready to purge the Anti-Life. Or as ready as I'll get."

Alan nods. "Same here. You sure you can keep him from powering himself up with this machinery?"

"No. Sandman?"

"I'll start throwing Dream dust as soon as he shows up. Or they show up, I guess."

"Then we are ready. Demon."

"Right."

He lowers himself over the edge of the platform, getting his legs around the underside before levering himself around and upright on our side.

"Crossing over the threshold has appreciably increas-ah. " There's a faint crackly of red energy around him, but it doesn't appear to directly harm him. "Increased the strain."

The Golden Man is standing pressed up against the glass as The Demon stares at him.

"Second thoughts? Or do you want to do this tantrically? If so, I'm afraid that I'll need a little blue pill, and half an hour to warm up."

"Hah!" The Demon walks right up to the outside of the booth, inclining his head so that if the glass wasn't in the way their foreheads would nearly be touching. "Nah. How about Blood Brothers style?"

He pulls back his right fist and punches through the glass, bringing his hand up and clasping The Golden Man's right in an arm wrestling gesture.

Faint flickers of red and gold energy crackle around the crystals running throughout the machinery.

"Hope being… Unmade hurts… Less than being created."

"Why? Are you planning..? On complaining..? To someone?"

Alan and I float away, trying to keep the whole area in our sights. I take a half second to glance at Dr. Balewa and I see that his forearms are wreathed in gold and red lightning, and that his eyes are glowing the same. That doesn't look too good, but he didn't reach his current age by taking on challenges that would kill him permanently.

Dream stuff is seeping out of the hole in the glass, but The Golden Man is going to be a memory in a little while anyway, so it's not a big-.

Gold lightning explodes from the central shaft, enveloping the entire chamber! Under my reinforced environmental shield and steadily heating spell eater I brace myself as I see lines of crystals explode and add to the conflagration.

I can't see our Constantines any more.

"Be ready!"

Railguns.

The room's moving-. No, the circular platform around the central shaft. Other parts of the machinery in the upper portion of the room have come to life as well, even as the crystals binding the spells together come apart. I-.

The booth explodes, Dream stuff wooshing around the lower portion of the room before I abandon my pipe-constructs.

And-.

"Oofaugh-duh."

A Constantine stripped to his underwear and with a Seal of Solomon on his forehead appears in the upper gantries, hits a platform and slide off the edge, plummeting-

-into Alan's catching mitt construct. Okay, that's ours back, where did-?

"Oh, it's you." Quinn rises out of the Dream mists, Helmet on head and… Some sort of sceptre in hand and his body covered in something that looks suspiciously like blue and gold New God armour . "How dis-"

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th November 2012
12:41 GMT -5

Mage slayers hum from my railguns, impacting-. A barrier of golden light with a red-burning border. The shield shimmers when hit-. No, tiny shields, each one collapsing and being reformed almost immediately.

"-appoin-"

Alan is shining blue light over the second-. The only Demon Constantine, the man's dozens of visible small injuries knitting back together. His eyes are open, but I'm not sure how much he's taking in.

"-ting."

I pull and push, restoring the link between Demon John and Original John's desires in the Honden with one thought and trying to drag Quinn's desires out of his soul.

A golden ripple passes over his body. I can sort of feel his desires, see their shape, they're still there, but some sort of spell is preventing me from touching them.

"John Quinn!"

The red light is extinguished like a blown-out candle, causing the shield to begin to diffuse into the air, smaller components spreading out. I focus fire immediately, but-.

A golden glow and the barrier-components lengthen, hexagon-ended octahedral barriers forming an overlapping protective barrier, each one with a tiny crimson flame inside it.

"Anti-Life! Explain!"

Sanderson takes charge of Demon John while Alan manoeuvres up and around, trying to flank Quinn.

"The universe and all its people disgust me."

Oh sugar, is he not infected? I mean, given that Belle Reve never reported The Demon Constantine missing I'd guess that he was switched over very quickly. It wasn't just 'these parts of John's character could be a problem, best be sure', it was something else?

"Why?! You are more-!"

Purple clouds bubble up from the Dream-discharge below us, enveloping Dr. Mist!

"Doc!"

Sanderson throws sand at the swelling pseudo storm, causing it to collapse back down and reveal an.. injured Dr. Balewa, clothes burned and skin slightly melted. Or not melted, but exposed to enough raw conceptual anarchy that it wore away at him in a similar fashion.

"Sandman, can you-"

Painfully aware that my reserves of mage slayer rounds are not unlimited, I switch them out for solid rounds and crumblers. Those-. Do nothing that I can see, which makes sense as an Order wizard of his level should be able to block physical force by altering the application of the relevant physical laws. Alright then, how about masers?

"-do something about-"

The first beam does actually get through, impacting on his blue and gold body armour and achieving nothing of note. The second beam hits a shield as the red flame inside flickers and gets effortlessly absorbed. I try firing a solid shot at another shield at the same time as a maser beam just in case this spell works on one type of attack at a time, but no such luck. That should be consuming more of his reserves, but I'm starting to feel that him solving the Order-Chaos dialectic might have made his spell casting super-efficient. In which case-

"-that?"

Never a fan of my technical precision, Alan adopts a brute force approach, hitting Quinn with a construct battering ram which merely causes a new shield to become visible, and then with a swarm of boxing gloves which hit every single shield he can see again and again and again in the hope that if he punches them enough then they have to go down eventually.

Quinn turns his head slightly in that direction and every single one evaporates in a waves of gold-red flame.

"I'll try!"

Sanderson shifts to sand form, appearing to absorb spare Dream sand as he travels 'down' from our position. Quinn points his free hand in that direction, but while the Order crystals so far enveloped by the miniature Dream storm strain and force it back a little all Sanderson needs to do to counter that is spread himself out a little. That should give him an override on what dreams occur there.

Dreams.

"Sandman, dream us up something-."

Quinn stares at me, and then a golden box forms next to me. I slam a construct drill into it, but it stays solid.

"He was right. Caging you-"

And the box is the universe, and like the Monkey King couldn't escape the lap of Buddha I find it surrounding me with no way out!

"-is simple."

I try to fly away, but unlike Faust Quinn knows what he's doing!

This is how genies feel, isn't it?

Right then. Mage slayer the boundary layer, and-.

Wait.

I look at myself and realise that I just left my body behind.

I'm snake-shaped again. I'm so close to being an arcane life form that a ghost trap can suck me out of my body regardless of my tattoos and ward. That's… A worry for another day.

The mage slayer I fired is still travelling through apparently infinite space. Access to the Honden… No. Radio? No.

Alright then. FEED ME! You think combining Order and Chaos is impressive?! I'll combine them IN MY BELLY!

The golden universe around me shudders, gold light precipitating out of empty space and flowing into me, though since I'm not an idiot I make sure to process it into orange light as it passes my snake lips. Just another Fate to DIGEST!

Flickers of red light all around me, the structure shimmering as I feed. I think I'm pulling enough power out of the structure that it's weakening. That's teach you not to lock up a genie with a tin opener!

The box collapses in front of me, and I get half a second of seeing my armour from the outside before I'm opening my eyes back in my own body. Alan's stuck me on a bio-bed construct to keep me out of the way, but I fly off at once and exhale at Quinn, a ray of manifested avarice flying from the front of my armour and slamming into his shield spell! They actually buckle, cracking and fracturing into tiny motes of energy!

A swirling red disk intercepts my shot before it can hit home, orange energy intermixing with-.

FEED ME!

Intermixing with the red and then absorbing it, expanding outward to envelop Quinn! He brings his sceptre to bear in a parrying motion, the head flaring gold as he strikes! The orange bomb holds for a moment, then shrivels and vanishes.

Then he points the sceptre at me.

"Oi!"

Demon John pulls himself up over the lip of a platform circling the upper part of the room.

"What was that about?"

"I seek the beautiful purity of Anti-Life, but I'm immune. I wanted to infect you so that when we merged we would still be a part of it."

And then I see Dr. Mist just behind him, the central shaft of the chamber coming apart under the effect of his magic as one of Demon John's eyes glows red while the other glows gold.

"Well that's just fucked up, mate."

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th November 2012
12:43 GMT -5

Quinn doesn't say anything; he just raises his sceptre and makes the Order-aligned crystals shine in an attempt-.

Purple clouds leap from the lower portion of the room, ripping apart Quinn's shields and forcing him to tighten the protective spells around his body. There's a tremendous-

KLANGKLUNK!

-noise above us as Dr. Balewa finishes ripping through main support and the whole assemblage slips sideways, slamming the platforms rotating around in into side platforms and armatures! The armatures respond by snapping, portions of the machine-.

I grab and catch the wheel The Demon Constantine was bound to with a construct claw and throw it aside.

Dr. Balewa shimmers and vanishes as the magic discharges in earnest, and I-. I dash to the side of the chamber, raising construct shields and trying to track pieces of falling machinery and exploding crystals.

Alan takes cover next to me a moment later.

"Did we win?"

"I hope so, because I can't think of another way to-."

A giant golden arrow manifests and flies at my shield! My eyes widen as I deploy a flak construct and Alan adds a shield of his own before it hits. The flak shot does nothing and the Order arrow is spinning as it starts fracturing our combined shields!

Fine. FEED-.

Warning! Low Power.

Um. Okay, yes, that does rather thrash the batteries. Ah.

I use filaments to wire my construct into my tattoos and pull, the arrow weakening as I pull the Order into my soul. I'm a little uncomfortable at the idea, but I don't think that being a little more orderly will do me much harm. The fracturing slows-.

Alan drops his shield, manifests a 100 ton weight construct just above it and drops it. The arrow is crushed, raw undifferentiated magic exploding outwards in a form my shield can easily cope with.

Another lump of machinery lands hard next to our corner of the room with a CRASH and a wince from us.

And then, quiet.

Not silence. Some of the crystals are still in the middle of discharging. I see one cluster break together and reform a lump of metal into a series of perfect cuboids, causing the loose wreckage above to fall a little further.

Cautiously, Alan and I float up and towards the centre of the room. One of the major platforms has wedged the central shaft against the side of the chamber, preventing the entrance area from getting buried. Still, that doesn't look stable.

"Everyone dead!?"

Alan gives me a mild glare, looking decidedly put out. "Paul."

"Between the immortal wizard and the man made of Dream sand, it's really more a matter of working out what happened to them and bringing them back. If anyone has died, it'll be the Johns."

I sigh.

Yes, Demon John II was an arse who actively tried to betray us, but he didn't commit the crimes that Demon John I did so I shouldn't lump the two of them together. And given that they weren't the same person, we put him in prison and ended his relationship with Ms Ryan and dragged him on a mission which stood a good chance of killing him without just cause.

That's on us.

"What do you think Quinn meant?"

"I'm not sure."

I look through the wreckage for any sign of life. Nothing right now, though I can see dream mist through the gaps in the wreckage. Okay, calculate the load-bearing qualities-.

Are the walls getting closer?

Confirmed.

"Alan, the room is shrinking. Most likely due to the fact that the crystals are broken and so the room isn't channelling power anymore."

He nods. "Yeah, I noticed. My ring can calculate how I can shift this stuff around-." His eyes flicker blue. "Thought as much."

A crane construct hauls a snapped-off part of a platform out of the way, while a construct blowtorch welds a girder to the snapped shaft to create a solid 'ceiling'.

"You remember what 'we' sounded like when I merged with the Ophidian for the first time? How we thought and acted?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"I guess it was the same thing. With parts of his mind dropped off in another body, things that… Wouldn't have made sense to him normally suddenly made perfect sense."

"John Constantine's the sort of man who might decide that the universe shouldn't exist? I mean, I… I talked with John Quinn several times. He seemed like a good guy. And that… Our demon John didn't."

"He had the run of the Earth since breaking out of Belle Reve, and the worst thing he did was pretend to be someone else while trying to woo his old girlfriend. If I was more self-absorbed, I can't imagine that I'd have killed a fraction as many people as I have." he looks-. "They were all bad. But the point is that if you don't feel strongly about things, there's no motivation to do anything really bad. Cut away a chunk of someone's mind and they decide some strange things. Decide to do things that they wouldn't do in a normal state of mind."

"Ah…"

Dr. Balewa shimmers into being, his skin knitted back together but his clothing still burned. He takes a moment to catch his breath, then looks at us.

"Are you well?"

Alan nods, digging deeper towards the last known location of John Quinn.

"Think so. What happened to the Johns?"

"Arcane diffusion. He should be-."

"A little help down here?"

I send out claw and excavator constructs, pulling apart rubble and detritus until there's a clear path to the lower portion of the room.

Sanderson clambers out, carrying a bruised and battered…

Well, he's in the blue and gold getup that Quinn was wearing, Helmet strapped to Sanderson's equipment harness. But the face isn't Quinn; it's too careworn and the hairline has receded. I mean, I can see parts of Quinn, but parts of The Golden Man and the Demons as well.

In short, it looks like John.

But to check, I look at Dr. Balewa. He holds out his hands for a moment, then nods.

"I believe thet it is him. But I think that we should evacuate before making a definite evaluation."

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th November 2012
10:11 GMT +3

"Fuuuuuuuuhhhhh…"

From my chair next to John's bed, I beam.

"Good morning, John."

His eyes open a little more, but he doesn't appear to be able to focus properly. He opens his mouth.

"E-uh?"

"Yes, I know that you said that you didn't want to see me for a while, but you did something rather unwise and I had to-."

"Where-?" He winces, closing his eyes tight shut for a moment and then opening them up again. "Where am I?"

"Themyscira. Reformation Island, to be precise. It used to be where the Amazons tried to reform female American criminals, so the women who worked here are a little more used to outsiders than most."

He looks at his bedding, then around at the room.

"Fag."

"Conservative."

He looks mildly surprised for a moment, then slightly amused. "Cigarette."

"Amazons don't smoke. It's a filthy habit, though I must say that I'm impressed that you kept it up after being right there when a man died of explosive lung cancer right next to you."

He flops back in his bed. "Hell. I died, an' that's where I went."

"Given that you're comprised of two people who both identify as 'The Demon Constantine', I imagine that you'd fit right in."

"Never said I didn't deserve it. I-?" He winces. "What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

"Saw you off in the hospital. Went to Nabu's tower to try and… Dump some of it." He narrows his eyes at me. "How come I'm feeling so normal?"

"The crystals. Doctor Balewa set up an interference matrix around the island using them to absorb your power."

"Crystals-? Right, the… Brownies. Yeah. I remember getting hold of them. I remember setting them up with a farm. And I-." He winces. "Something about a machine?"

"Yes. Impressive piece of work, actually. We're sending images of it to Professor Sephtian to see what he makes of it. Do you remember what it was for?"

"To balance me out." He frowns, eyes unfocusing again. "It didn't work."

"No, technically it worked. You appear to have decided to split yourself in two, using your demonic doppelgänger and The Golden Boy as counterweights. We had to fight a version of you who called himself John Quinn."

"Fuck." He sighs. "Sorry, I was-. Trying t'..."

"Get your head on straight. I get it."

"It was like… Two.. great… Things, bellowing in my soul, doing it the whole time."

"I'm sorry. I should have found someone else for the other half, to handle Order."

He shakes his head. "I coulda done that. Told you to knock it off, wouldn't change anything if we left it a week. Had t'be at the centre of things."

I nod sympathetically. "You feeling alright now?"

"Feel like I'm coming off a week-long bender and the headache hasn't caught up with me just yet." He pushes himself up slightly. "Who got hurt?"

"Some of the Tower's prisoners got Anti-Lifed, along with the brownies. We killed some of the brownies when we attacked. We haven't seen any evidence of your John Quinn aspect killing anyone, and Demon Constantine Two was too busy dating Kathryn Ryan to-."

"What?" His eyes open wide, his body tensing. "What did-?"

"She's fine, just angry."

He sags a little in relief.

"We'll be checking up on everything, but we're not expecting to find a warehouse full of bodies or anything. Doctor Balewa is going to occupy the Tower while you're… You're here."

"Right. Here. Where the tribe of man-hating lesbians put their criminals."

"No no no. It's where the tribe of man-hating lesbians used to put their criminals."

"If I lift this sheet off, are my balls still gonna be there?"

"Amazons don't go in for mutilation. They tend to treat criminality like a mental disorder."

He smiles wryly, looking away. "Yeah. Guess I'm here for a while. Least it beats Ravenscar."

"Healthy exercise in a sub-tropical environment, no alcohol or cigarettes, no demons and a spell set up to prevent you getting driven mad by the Order-Chaos discord."

He turns his face back to me. "But I'm in prison."

"You're on a health retreat." I shrug. "I mean… We can't-. We literally can't force you to stay here. But you split yourself in half because you couldn't cope, and that wasn't a clever thing to do."

He looks away again. "Yeah."

"And you've got four different sets of memories to sort through."

"Four?"

"Yes, the… Demon Constantine decided that the best way to keep you miserable was to make sure that you exist. So now you've got all of him back, which is probably why you felt so strongly about Ms. Ryan. So." I get off the chair next to his bed. "Take it easy and try and get yourself straightened out. I'll visit again tomorrow. Oh, and I'll let Mister Chandler know that you're alright."

He nods distractedly.

"So, um…"

I hold out my right hand. He hesitates.

"A lot of my friends don't last all that long."

"Then you need to get friends who are tougher and not keep risking the squishy people. We walked through a Dream Storm to get to you, you know."

"Oh yeah?" He leans forward and takes my hand. "Tell me about that-." He appears to get dizzy for a moment, then recovers. "Tomorrow."

I nod. "I'll see you tomorrow, John. Get well soon."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Feasibility Study

15th November 2012
13:27 GMT -5

"So…"

I look around the Tower's library. This is where we met up before our sojourn into Hell to get Satanus. Which I suppose means that we can rule out anyone associated with him as 'the hole in the universe'.

"Do we have any idea what he was trying to do?"

Sephtian nods, barely able to turn his attention away from the notes that he and his team have spread out over the writing desks.

"Yes, I believe so. We will know for certain if we find a second machine like the one you destroyed."

"A-. Second?"

"John Constantine was attempting to balance himself. You saw that there were far more Order-attuned crystals than Chaos-attuned ones. You also saw that he had caged raw Dream-stuff."

"And Demon John said that he'd been using the balcony which opens onto the Dream storm outside."

I glance out of the window. From the outside, it looks much the same as it did last time.

"What was he doing?"

"He did not get that sand from Morpheus. As far as-" He turns back towards the tables, looking for something-. "-we-. Ah!"

He strides over to one of the tables, and I take a moment to be impressed by how far the water armour designs have come in such a relatively short time. He's moving easily despite being in the open air and unless the light catches him at exactly the right angle I wouldn't know it was there. Pushing two pages aside he grabs one from beneath them and brings it back to me, ignoring the disgruntled crablantean who was studying it.

"Here, you see."

I try making sense of the diagram, but… It's well beyond me. Quinn doesn't appear to have been all that impressed by Atlantean notation. Some of what he used reminds me of John Dee's writing, but this is far more sophisticated.

"I don't suppose that you've translated his notation-?"

One of the researchers raises her head. "Come back in two or three years!"

Sephtian jerks his head around and glares at the impetuous researcher. "Orange Lantern could decipher it in two or three years. We are the mostly highly skilled professionals on Earth."

The researcher appears to be torn between her desire to give her honest opinion and her desire to avoid insulting her boss.

"One to two years."

"That's better." He turns back to me, looking for somewhere to spread out the-.

I take hold of the paper and attach it to a construct flipchart.

"Thank you. This part appears to be a depiction of the part that processed the raw chaos of the storm into sand." He shudders slightly. "I had no idea that was where the sand came from."

"I wouldn't get too enthralled. I don't think Morpheus would be too happy if we started mucking about with it."

"That.. is.. a good point. But will he complain about us studying a device that already exists?"

"I don't know. I've never spoken to him. Do you have someone on your team who specialises in understanding powerful elemental beings?"

In the background, someone snorts.

For a moment, Sephtian doesn't reply. The eyes of more than a few of the other researchers have turned our way.

"No."

"Oh. Well, the only person I know of who's spoken to him recently is Sandman, but I don't think they had an in-depth conversation. I can only suggest that you avoid doing anything that John Quinn didn't and stop the moment he complains about it."

"Yes, of course. Even going as far as John Quinn managed to will take us… 'One to two' years and teach us a great deal."

"Do you know what he managed to do yet?"

"That is easier to understand." He sighs. "Though Sandman absorbing so much sand and the destruction to the machine makes it harder to understand the specifics. He extracted sand from the storm outside and used what remained to create a smaller 'tame' storm for his own use. Combining both elements allowed him to manifest the man you knew as 'The Golden Boy' as an intelligent being derived from John Constantine's own memories and sense of inadequacy. But between the records we have found and the remaining Chaos crystals, we think…"

He pauses, and I imagine him rechecking his figures in his head.

"We think that he may have been attempting to impose structure on the Dream itself."

"Sure, that's… Possible. We saw the city-."

"All of the Dream."

"I don't see Morpheus tolerating that."

"I don't either. But I do not know what else it could be."

"Dream spaceship?"

He blinks in confusion for a moment, then his eyes widen.

"I mean, I'm just hoping, I've got no idea-."

He grabs the paper off the construct board and runs over to the team working on the desks.

…

"Okay."

It would be nice if it was something like a Dream spaceship. Unlike most afterlives, the Dream is universal. It's just that travelling through it reliably is such a pain that it's not worth it, and then there's the fact that actual gates that physical objects can use are virtually unheard of.

But it's not going to be that. It's going to be him trying to Anti-Life the Dream or something else equally ridiculous. Normally the range of Anti-Life exposure is limited and if it's not constant then people can recover. Plug it into their dreams…

There aren't many ways into the Dream. Erebos is as well defended as it's going to get, and the Tower of Fate is… Well, there's a reason why we came in through the balcony. Lock down the Tower and no one is getting in.

But this place went from a curiosity to a weak point for the entire universe.

I'd suggest destroying it, but I've got no idea if that's even possible.

We need to get John back here just to make sure that nothing goes wrong, but he's in no fit state to look after himself, much less the Tower of Fate.

Who else..?

The construct Helmet of Demon Fate precipitates out of my ring, hovering in the air.

"How may I serve?"

"It turns out that I need a doorstop. Well volunteered."

 

[Mr Zoat]

18th November 2012
11:54 GMT +3

"…mechanical engineering, you know?"

Kon hurls the tree trunk and Wolf bounds off after it.

"Does Happy Harbour High School teach that?"

"We don't work on stuff that big in shop class, but there's an after school club for it."

He looks at me expectantly as the trunk crashes back down to earth in the distance.

"Could be useful in your other job, too."

"As a superhero?" He frowns, puzzled. "I guess. It hasn't really come up so far-."

"No, I meant as Crown Prince of Themyscira. You could teach women who don't quite feel brave enough to leave the island, get them used to complex machinery."

He looks away slightly awkwardly. "Shouldn't Mitchell be Crown Prince? He's older."

"Oh? Hankering for a normal life?"

"I don't… I don't know. I don't really think that Themyscira needs a prince."

"It went three thousand years without a princess, but Diana's still found a way to make herself useful."

In the distance, Wolf finally catches up with the trunk and gnaws at it, trying to find an angle that will let her pick it up and drag it back.

"Besides, they're going to have a new generation of Themysciran boys before too long. Having you and Mitchell around as role models will set a good example."

His eyes drop for a moment, then come back up. "You hear about the court case?"

"Surprised it took this long."

Because in Old Themyscira, it was perfectly normal for women who felt like getting pregnant to meet up with a man during festival time, and not unusual for her to never speak to him again. Everyone on Themyscira was most emphatically told that that's not how it works in Man's World but unsurprisingly a woman called Medina didn't listen. Or didn't care. Which means that Diana's dealing with Themyscira's first paternity lawsuit in three thousand years because the man in question wants contact with his child.

And yes, Themyscira did have paternity suits back in the Old City. They weren't much like modern suits; women didn't get paid by the father to raise their own children in the old days. It was more about notifying that there was a child so the family could avoid accidental incest and arguments over whether a boy would be brought up by the father or the mother's brother.

And, naturally, there's no procedure for handling civil lawsuits between Americans and Amazons. Medina's been living on a farm in the north of Themyscira for the last five hundred years or so and doesn't appear to have any plans to show up in America again. Or pay much attention to the thoughts of the forum, which appears to think that she's at the very least conducting herself poorly in relation to a friendly country.

"You know, you could take to the forum yourself."

"So could you."

I shrug. "I'm not involved. I'm the technology guy."

"It's your portal. I thought you wanted Themyscira to have-"

"Yes."

"-more direct contact with America."

"Yes, but I can't be-."

Wolf walks up to us, twisting her neck and releasing to 'throw' the trunk at me.

"Good wolf."

She sits, tail wagging and eyes expectant. I generate a construct hand and pretend to throw the tree.

"Rrreeehhhuuuugh."

She just stares at me.

"Clever gi-."

My construct hand throws the tree, and she's about half a second delayed as she expects I'm going to try faking it again. Then she dashes off after it.

"I can't be doing everything about it. Inter-government stuff needs to be handled by the royal family."

"And because you're not around."

I wince, because… It's true. I've dropped down from a couple of visits a week to one a fortnight. And those are visits to specific individuals I need to talk to for something I'm doing.

"And because I'm not around. But it's a big universe and I'm not around a lot of places."

Kon watches Wolf for a moment.

"Do you think I should talk to the guy?"

"Not really. I mean, it will be interesting to hear him explain exactly what he thought was going to happen when he had a hook-up with an Amazon he'd never met before, but in America he'd still be on the hook."

"Wally said he thought it was a publicity thing."

I shrug. "Could be. Might be worth looking into. Or.. you could just ask M'gann to read his mind."

"Or you could just look at him."

I…

John's back and in recovery, which requires me to appear on Themyscira every other day or so. Which is why I even know about Medina's reproductive reprobacy; I heard one of John's counsellors talking about it.

"I could, but I'm not sure that it would have legal significance. I mean, American men can't say 'she said she was on the pill' to get out of child support payments. Why would 'he didn't say anything about wanting contact with the child' get her out of having to make contact arrangements?"

"Because she's on Themyscira." He shrugs. "Probably be a lot easier to get the forum to agree a rule about child rearing if you could honestly say that he wanted to be a father."

"But that implies that I would be around for every incident, when what I want is for them to agree how normal law will work."

"Grandma left it until I proved to everyone that I was a hero before she got the forum to change the succession rules. Now they've changed it, if I have a son, he wouldn't have to prove himself in the same way because the law has already changed."

"So… You want me to come up with a legal mechanism for handling civil law disputes between Themysciran citizens and American citizens?"

He gives me a quiet huff.

"And how long is that going to take you?"

"I could write the laws in five minutes. The difficult bit is finding what everyone wants. The forum might think that Medina's being a prat, but you know that it's not a good place for actually creating policy."

"Okay. How about we work on it together? You handle the law and I'll handle the people."

…

"Will you be wearing your robes?"

…

"Do I have to?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th October 2009
21:22 GMT -5

Komand'r twists her head around on my chest so that she can look me in the eyes, a mildly perturbed expression on her face.

"Do you think we've..?"

She hesitates, her frown deepening.

I raise my eyebrows, arms wrapping a little tighter around her torso as we lie on the sofa. "We've..?"

"Gotten… Boring."

"I can't say I've ever tried to live my life on the basis of how interesting it would be to read about."

I raise my gaze to look around our living room. Photographs of our wedding, our friends and our son decorate the surfaces, my skull collection having been relocated to my athenaeum. A few of Alikand'r's toys have been left on the floor were they fell, but other than that it's a fairly normal upper class living room. Nothing to suggest that it's home to a couple of galaxy-renowned bounty hunters. Is.. that what she means?

"If you don't like the decorations-?"

"No, not the-." She sighs, the back of her head falling back onto my chest. "It's-. When was the last time we killed someone?"

"Two days ago."

She frowns. "Was it?"

"Toyman?" Her frown deepens. "He had those giant windup soldiers-."

"Oh him." She considers the matter, and her frown deepens further. "Why didn't I remember that? It was only a couple of days ago."

"If tamaranean brains work like human brains, it's probably because it didn't stand out."

Her brow relaxes a little. "What do you mean?"

"We've killed a lot of people, right?"

"Yeah?"

"So the first time you kill someone, that's a big deal. But after that, you're just repeating yourself. It's not a new experience so your brain doesn't encode it in the same way."

"You mean…" She relaxes very slightly into my chest. "It feels like we've been doing less fighting lately, but actually..?"

I smile, shifting my calves across her thighs-.

"No, seriously, not-. 'Fighting' each other." She tilts her head back again so that she's looking at me upside down. "It's bothering me."

I nod, then generate a construct time/kills line graph in the air in front of us. There're troughs and peaks, but the average is relatively consistent month on month.

"Slightly fewer assassinations and slightly more mass killings, but the total hasn't actually changed much."

"So they're.. just not memorable enough."

"That's one way of putting it. But it's more about how new an experience is than absolute quality. Even if the fight is amazing, there isn't all that much difference between an amazing fight and a mundane one. After a while they all sort of blur together-."

"And I keep wondering where all the time went. Because it passes without me really making any new memories." She move her arms so that they're laying on mine. "Huh."

"Basically. But that's… Pretty normal. When you're young everything is new, and then as you get older you learn what sort of things you like doing and start doing that more."

"But then you're just doing the same kind of thing and not anything that's going to stick in your brain." Her face creases. "So that's it? We either make ourselves miserable or stop being able to remember things?"

"Do you remember last time you read to Alikand'r?"

"Yeah, that was about.. three hours ago. I read him The Very Hungry Caterpillar." She wrinkles her nose. "Human children's books are weird."

"And before that?"

"The farm book. The one with the pop-up animals. I remember-."

She jerks up into a sitting position, pushing my legs aside as she twists around to face me.

"I thought my brain was going to stop.. sabotaging me after I gave birth." Her eyes narrow and glow faintly. "Have you gotten me pregnant again? I said, one!"

I sit up, wrap my arms around Koriand'r's back and then fall back, pulling her face into the crook of my neck.

"No, the mood swing you had when you were pregnant is… Something I'm never going to forget, and it wasn't like this. This is actually normal. For humans, as well as tamaraneans."

"So we're just… Normal?"

"Normal for us. Or… Stable. I mean, is there anything in our life that you don't like?"

She opens her mouth to reply, then closes it again, thinking deeply.

"All your enemies in Vega are dead. Tamaran is rebuilding. Your other enemies are dead or cowed into compliance. You have me and Alikand'r. Did we miss anyone you hate?"

"I don't think so. Unless I got so used to hating that I forgot someone."

"Okay then. What is it that you don't have that you still want?"

"It's not about being in a good place objectively. Right? I-." She lifts her head up to do a quick check of the room. "I love you and Alikand'r. And I want to make sure that he has the childhood I didn't get."

"I want him to have the childhood you didn't get too."

She inhales deeply, then exhales sharply.

"Okay. I want to do more fighting, but fighting I'll actually remember. Different fighting. Does Earth have fighting tournaments?"

"So many fighting tournaments. But most of them don't let aliens or people with superpowers take part."

"Underground fighting tournaments?"

"They'd be more likely to run away than fight us. We've got a bit of a reputation."

"Then-. Where are we supposed to get memorable fights?"

19th October 2009
09:02 GMT -5

"So, um."

On the opposite sofa, Blue Beetle looks like he's really regretting offering to do these interviews. Next to me, Komand'r smiles and gives my hand a light squeeze. This should deal with her problem nicely.

"What do you think you'd bring to the Justice League?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

20th November 2012
19:21 GMT -6

I watch the Senate votes as they're tallied, closing my eyes and taking a deep and happy breath as the Bill is finally voted into law. Now it just needs Jon to sign off on it -which he will- and that'll be one piece of madness that no one will ever have to deal with again.
Structural Reform Sublimation
Human-form Luna looks at the screen, then at me, then at the screen. Then she frowns and goes back to looking at me.

"We do not understand."

"I have no reason to doubt your claim and accept it as provisionally true."

I feel her rolling her eyes. "They tally ballots, and that creates new law."

"That is one of the many steps that turns a proposed law into an actual law, yes."

Luna shifts on the settee so she's facing me rather than the screen.

"You have implied frequently that Our sister's centralisation of power is a weakness in the Equestrian state. We suspect that you will enjoy explaining this… Scrum, to Us."

I grin.

"Ah, dear heart, you bring out the pedagogue in me."

"We are not a hart. We are a pony mare, as well you know."

"Well done for spotting the pun opportunity, but I'm wearing a translator. Have you been studying?"

"Linguistics and cultural symbolism are areas with which we are well familiar. In Our youth, the Equestrian language was far less unified than it is today."

"Oh?" I raise my eyebrows in curiosity. "My ring's translation causes me to hear you as speaking an older form of my language at times, but that's all."

"We have the printing press to thank for that. The form of Equestrian spoken in the central regions of the country encompassing the Old Capital, Canterlot and modern Ponyville became the standard form." She looks mildly perturbed. "We dread to imagine Our fate if Mountain Equestrian had become the standard form."

"Still, that's surprisingly little change for a thousand years."

"We have learned in Our time here that ponies are naturally more staid than humans. Mayhap that is why We have been able to make Ourself understood to those who are not historians or linguists. Not that We are complaining. Now: the scrum."

"The 'scrum' on display in the Senate; the smaller of the two legislative bodies of the American government."

She frowns. "They have two legislative bodies."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"That's a bit complicated. Originally, the United States of America was conceived as being an alliance of constituent States. They would have certain principles in common and recognised that some things would have to be done centrally, but the governments of the various States were supposed to be the main unit rather than the Federal Government in the centre. Originally, Senators were appointed by the governments of the States rather than being directly elected by the people of that State as Congressional Representatives are. That was changed as part of the Federal Government's efforts to centralise power by bypassing State governments. Which means that there are two bodies that do the same thing, rather than the two doing slightly different things."

"We… See."

"As is often the case in situations like this, certain parts of the system don't make sense but they're not bad enough to force those involved to agree how to fix them. Now, a couple of weeks ago there was a Presidential Election which returned the sitting president -Jonathan Horne- to office."

"Your ally."

"Yes. But America limits Presidents to two terms of office, and while that law could be changed, he'd… Have to be a lot more popular than he is-"

Even now.

"-to get that to happen. That sort of things looks very self-serving, for obvious reasons."

"Eight years, at most."

"Yes indeed."

She snorts. "We now understand how Our sister's reign seems so strange to the people of this land."

"Having a compulsory departure date means that new ideas have to rise to the surface. It also means that it's easier to get rid of people who make a mess of things without needing some sort of civil war. And since they know that they're going to go, there's a limit for the level of corruption they can get involved in because the next person will probably have a vested interest in ferreting it out and bringing it to wider attention."

"A system built on discord."

"A system which assumes discord. Of course, the system has the problem that as a President approaches the end of their time in office everyone else knows they're on the way out as well, which effectively strips them of a lot of their power. Anyway, Horne's in and has the reins of power for four more years."

And about halfway through that people who want to be President next are going to come to ask for my support… Have to see how it goes. The Democrats won't let anyone like Jon near the nomination papers ever again and the Republicans… I've got no idea who they might nominate now that Knight's missed his shot.

"So what is this ballot in aid of?"

"The passing of the Detention Failure Emergency Act. Essentially, if a prisoner either convicted of a crime which potentially carries the death penalty or a patient held in a mental institution by court order who has been ruled not guilty by reason of insanity on a criminal charge which potentially carried the death penalty escapes custody, they are to be killed. No effort will be made to recapture them, only hunt them down and kill them. It also indemnifies officers who kill such people against prosecution in states which don't have a death penalty."

Wink wink. Nudge nudge.

"Why is such a law required? Are such feats of escapology so common and such crimes so common that this remedy is needed?"

"No, it only applies to a small proportion of the criminal population, but they're so disproportionately murderous that it is actually a problem. Same reason we don't just 'build better prisons'. Some of the people we lock up are just too good at escaping. Imagine… Trying to imprison a pony whose special talent was escaping, and also likes eating pony brains. They're clearly mad and need hospitalisation, but no decent ruler would let them go back to eating their preferred diet as an alternative to killing them."

"That is… Somewhat morbid."

"Okay, imagine that King Sombra managed to pull himself back together and attacked Equestria, conjuring up his umbral buddies to possess random ponies. Do you order the guards to try arresting him, or do you send the bearerherd to Element-blast him back into oblivion?"

"The second."

"And I don't remember anyone saying that Nightmare Moon deserved a chance to live independently. The plan was 'wait one thousand years, then rainbow cannon to the face'."

"We are not Our sister, driven weak-stomached by a millennium of peace. We are aware that Our sister took no efforts to capture 'her' alive." I nod. Fair enough. "You would have her live?"

"No." Uh. "Maybe. The Obsidian Deeps have no light. She could have been happy there, perhaps. But I wouldn't have risked freezing Wilson to death to do it. And now, American law enforcement won't have to either."

"It seems strange to Us that such a thing needs to be codified, though We suppose it flows from having a weaker sovereign. Tell Us more of this land's politics, Our swain, that We may amuse Ourself with their foolishness."

I smile.

"You're going to love the court system."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
08:12 GMT +3

I regard the frustrated Amynta sympathetically. "I'm sorry that he's been so much of a pain."

"I cannot say that you did not warn us. And I know that his need is great. But I cannot command a man who is not guilty of any criminal wrongdoing-"

"I wouldn't-."

"-into the fields."

"-go that far. And he probably doesn't know anything about farming anyway."

Amynta frowns, blinking, then appears to mentally kick herself.

"Of course he.. doesn't. It was foolish to assume-."

"Three thousand year old assumptions?"

"Yes. I apologise."

"You don't need to apologise, just.. bear in mind that across the world most men aren't involved in farming. Though while we're on the subject, what are your thoughts on the whole Medina situation?"

Amynta hisses in irritation and shakes her head. "She is a fool. Having children sired by foreign men caused problems even in the Old City."

I look her over. "So is it Kon, Mitchell, me or Daniel who should-?"

"No." She hesitates, perhaps worrying about her own abruptness. "I mean, we are not all rushing to have children. Most marriages are just having-. Planning to have, one become pregnant. There is nothing about being women which means that we all instinctively know how to raise children. And the island is not large."

"Do you want a new island?"

"I would not insult the gods by-."

"No, I mean, it's well within my power to create a new island here. Or to increase the size of Themyscira itself, you know, to handle the extra people. I'd clear it with the Five before I did anything that would increase their workload."

"Can you believe that I forgot you could perform such feats?"

"After the farming thing? Certainly."

Um.

"If you're.. forgetting things a lot, there have been a lot of medical advances in the outside world. And I could attach a quantum wafer in your brain and then you'd never have to worry about forgetting things again."

"No, it's just that it is so new. I am certain I will adapt."

I nod. "Alright. So how would you resolve the dispute?"

"Move her to the Embassy until the child is of age. Fifteen years is no time at all to us, and the father would be able to visit."

"And the rest of her family?"

"They can visit easily enough. Or move there as well; it isn't a small place."

"And what about future incidents?"

"Are homes in New Yark expensive?"

"New York, and, yes. There are cheap places to live and I could just put a Gate there, but that's not going to be near anyone who's sired a child already-." I frown. "Are there other children sired in that way, and this is the first time there's been a complaint?"

She can't quite meet my eyes.

"I am not myself aware of any other-."

"Amynta."

"The idea has been mooted before. I haven't heard of anyone else actually doing it. Most of those who have visited Man's World for sex have focused their interests on women."

Oh dear.

"Has Themyscira sorted out the visa rules?"

"Visa?"

"Rules for who can come here. I know that men need an invitation or they get forcibly expelled, but have you thought about what happens if a significant number of women want to come here?"

"Do you think that's likely?

"For now it's just hook-up visits, but Amazon women are going to start getting attached to New Yorkers eventually. What happens if they want to bring American women for a visit?"

"Why would that be a problem?"

"There are about three million women in New York City alone. How many could come here? How many-?"

"Oh. Yes. I see. But why are you asking me?"

"Because I can't argue for something in the forum when I don't really care and it doesn't affect me. Now that they've decided that there's going to be a relationship, the women of Themyscira need to decide what mechanism they want to use to regulate it." I exhale. "Kon's trying to sound out the city, but so far no one really has an opinion beyond 'Medina's kind of dumb'."

Ahead of us on the beach I see John prop himself up slightly on his sun lounger.

"Think about it. Talk to the other guards. Come to me or Kon with any questions." I glance at John. "And you could talk to John-."

"No."

"Good decision. John!"

I march towards him, while Amynta wisely decides to hang back.

"How's life treating you?"

He stares into the middle distance for a moment.

"Bored out of my fucking skull, mate."

"How do you feel about farm work?"

"I-. You know something? I'd pick up a hoe right now."

"But that aside?"

"I don't know what Quinn did, but the withdrawal isn't hitting me. It's just the mental aspect. Normally I'd just find another terminal case and dump my need on them, but… Doesn't really seem right, here."

"Good, because it's not. And now that you're nicely becalmed, would you like to meet the island's other guest? I suspect that she'll be able to hold your attention."

"Well, with an invitation like that..." He climbs ungraciously off the lounger and stands next to me. "Let's go meet the neighbour."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
08:18 GMT +3

We hear the thuds and thumps of axe work before we see the island's therapy farm. Since it was out of use for decades the Amazons were perfectly happy to let nature reclaim it, and now it looks like it's going to be put back into action they're having the old staff and the other inmate clear it.

"Who are they?"

"Who's my nemesis?"

John gives me a sidelong look. "Fate."

"No, he was my enemy." We continue walking through the woodland, John managing the terrain surprisingly well for a man who avoids all forms of physical exercise. "Classically, a nemesis should arise directly from the hero's own actions and failings, which means that mine is probably some Reach politician whose name I'll never know. In the modern context, a nemesis is someone who the hero fights, whose nature is related to theirs in some way, either similar or as a sort of reflection of it."

He looks at-.

"Yes, I know that I just sounded like I'm massively up myself and self-absorbed to the point that I'm dismissing wider human civilisation in order to make a drama out of my own life, but I'm talking about how people usually describe the relationship."

"So, what, my nemesis is… Who?"

"I would have guessed Chantinelle or Golden Boy, but they're not really your enemies. The First, probably."

John looks ahead of us through the trees.

"Whatever happened to him, hey?"

"The other demon lords decided to sit on him to prevent him getting his power back. Unfortunately, I don't know a good way to keep him down permanently other than sticking him on the Source Wall. And that's a bit awkward."

"And yours is that Truggs bloke."

"Right. Because..?"

"You both really like hearin' yourself talk?"

"Uplift. The improvement of human civilisation."

"Did you lock me in a cabin in the woods so at the end of it I'd find hearing this interesting?"

"He was sending people to parallel universes to steal things. Technology, mostly, but he also abducted a demon-possessed Supergirl."

John stops, and-.

Warning! Spell eater temperature increasing.

"You banished it."

"Of course we banished it, she's kryptonian. We're not insane. Turns out that a kryptonian demon possessed her reality's Superman and he passed the corruption along. She was catatonic for a while, but now she's up and about and having constant waking nightmares about what she did under the influence."

"Always wondered what would happen if Superman went off the rails."

"I can show you the recordings if you like. Though I should warn you, I fought him alongside a taskforce of superpeople from a Nazi-ruled parallel universe."

"Not what Churchill would have done."

"It's usually easy to keep demons out of the material universe. That was a world where it wasn't."

We breach the tree line, the land on the far side covered in tree trunks. A kryptonian like Kara is easily strong enough to pull them out of the ground, but because we're serious about the 'not being stupid' thing she's working at physical strength only.

John steps on a stick and her head snaps around and I see the pulse of fear grow as she sees us and her memories start playing again. How she realised that something was wrong with Kal-El, how she tried to escape but he was faster than he'd ever been. And later, how she didn't change completely right away and people didn't always realise that they needed to run from her as well.

Our Superman wanted to visit, but… We're all pretty sure that wouldn't be a good idea.

"Did you get that?"

"Don't need to be a magician to see someone's face. You want me to talk to her?"

"We already tried Ambrose. He said that he wasn't fucked up enough to relate to her."

One of the Amazon guards spots that Kara 666 isn't with us anymore and cautiously steps closer.

"Kara. Kara. You are safe. There are no demons here. You haven't hurt anyone."

Kara blinks and appears to come out of it, though her heart rate is still accelerated and she's still panting for breath.

"Good morning, Kara Zor-El."

"H… Hhh… Hello."

She doesn't look relieved to see me. Or anyone else. I did ask if Kon could visit and she didn't come out of her room for the rest of the day. I told her what happened with her Kal-El, but… It didn't really help either. I left her the recording but she hasn't watched it.

John and I walk closer. Slowly, and making sure to keep our hands visible. I don't think that would set her off, but I didn't think a storm cloud would either and she spent an hour screaming in panic.

"This is my friend John Constantine." For a moment I'm worried that some part of the demonic outbreak resulted in her meeting their version of him, but from the default-worried look on her face that doesn't appear to be the case. "He's staying on this island too. Are you alright talking to him?"

"W… What-what-what is he here for?"

John shrugs. "Same as you, from the sounds of things. Didn't go quite as bad, but it could have done if it had gone on much longer."

A small and very shaky head nod.

"Thank you. I'll leave you to it, then."

I raise my right hand-.

"L… L-Lantern."

"Yes?"

"Can-can-c… When can I g… Go home?"

"We don't have a portal set up, though we do have the coordinates. Assuming that no one on your home parallel's side has set up a shield, we can go back with a few hour's notice. We were planning on leaving it until you were a little more recov-"

She's shaking her head vigorously.

"-ered. No?"

"Nnn… Need to go back. F… F… Fix thing-. Things."

"They don't really have the facilities to help you there, but if you're sure, I'll assemble a portal and check the connection."

She nods, though the unspoken problem there is what happens if they don't want her back.

"Very well. I'll return after I've paid them a visit."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
07:24 GMT +2

"…go home. Is that something you can arrange?"

Dr. Sivana nods distractedly, his hands working on the internal mechanisms of a many-eyed robot which appears to be simultaneously watching fifty screens worth of… Romantic comedies. After a moment he pulls them free and turns it on. Its head spins slowly for several rotations, then starts getting faster and faster until smoke starts pouring from its neck pivot.

Dr. Sivana grunts, then presses the 'off' switch. The robot's eye stalks sag immediately, and the mad spinning slows to a stop.

"I already visited that laboratory. I didn't want my alter ego's equipment being used to implicate me. Could you please remove the head?"

"Sure." I create a dock crane construct and haul the head up off the neck piece. "Where do you want it?"

He points to a nearby bench, and I carefully deposit it down next to the machine tools.

"What are you..? Trying to do with this?"

"I was-." He picks up a remote control and one by one turns off the screens. "I was attempting to create a synthetic mind that could help me in understanding 'romance'."

"Doctor, you have four children."

"And Venus did not-" He walks over to the bench and connects a cable to a port on the robot's head. "-really approve of the methods by which we conceived them. Particularly Georgia and Junior. To me, it seemed perfectly logical to improve them beyond what natural selection would create. But…"

He sighs.

"I have trouble understanding people. And if our second try at marriage is going to work, then I need to get better at it."

"By having a robot watch romantic comedies."

"Yes. A robot designed to perform a complex but extremely logical analysis of human social conventions will be able to understand them on a level no human can match and explain them to me in a purely logical way that I can understand. And then I'll be able to become the husband that Venus deserves."

"Doctor." I hesitate… Then gird my loins and cautiously pat him on the left shoulder with my right hand. "Venus fell in love with you the first time when your social skills were even worse than they are now. I don't think that an analysis of trends in romantic fiction is what you need."

"I-." He twitches slightly. "Perhaps not."

"I think-."

"But I'll know for certain once I've made one."

"Okay, I didn't want to do this, but do you know who Steven Dayton is?"

Dr. Sivana stops working. "An entirely inappropriate comparison. The 'mento helmet' was imprecise in its augmentative-."

"My point is that he spent all his time doing things with his helmet to try and prove that he was worthy, rather than actually spending time with the woman he loved. At the very least I'm sure that Venus would find this amusing to watch."

"That-." He blinks several times in quick succession. "I suppose that she might find it entertaining. I'm sure that she would have some input for me on the cultural aspect."

"Yes." … "So, the portal?"

"I'll go and check on it. I assume that you want to go to America?"

"Please. Can you have the portals that precise?"

"Yes, it's no trouble." He lays down his tools and heads for the workshop door. "I'll do final checks and set it in the 'ready' position for when your group is gathered."

"Thank you."

I raise my right hand to my forehead,

step out, and

reappear in the open air above Dr. Sivana's semi-concealed workshop. It's location is… Known to those in the know, but isn't broadcast publically due to the panic that is likely to occur. And the damage to house prices. Despite all the people that the Sheeda killed, house prices remain buoyant across Europe and North America. People trying to move to places that could defend themselves effectively, I suppose.

"Orange Lantern to-."

I was going to say 'Blue Lantern', but it's just past midnight on the American east coast right now and Alan needs his sleep.

"Orange Lantern to Watchtower."

"Green Arrow here."

"I-."

"Gimme a moment. I'm still bracing myself."

"It's nothing like that."

"I don't think you think about things 'like that' the same way other people do." I hear him take a deep breath, and I know that he's only half-joking. "Okay. Hit me."

"I'm taking the Supergirl who was possessed by a demon back to her parallel at her request."

"I thought Diana said she was in therapy."

"She is, but it's.. sort of voluntary. She should have someone watching her, but she's not a danger to herself or others. Given how badly hammered her Earth was… They could really use her."

"So…"

"So I was going to ask if anyone from the League wants to pay them a visit. At this point there are all sorts of lessons they'll have learned about containing a demonic outbreak. I'd ask my-."

Inwardly, I sigh. 'My team mates'? Really? Unless I'm talking about N.E.M.O., that hasn't been true for a while. Which is… Not 'fine' exactly, but I'm not a trainee any longer and I didn't want to join the League. We've grown apart. Though I'm sure I could handle that better.

"My friends, but it's the middle of the school week."

"Not sure how much use you'd have for a guy with a pointy stick launcher."

"Little to none, but a former CEO with knowledge of logistics could be useful. If you're available."

"I'll put the word out. And I'll talk to Dinah about coming along."

"It's not exactly a couples get-away, sir."

"Sure, but I can't just disappear without telling her."

Yes, maybe I should message Jade about this before we leave.

"Okay. Call me back in ten minutes?"

"How exactly are you getting there? You're not going via Nazi-Earth, are you?"

"No, Doctor Sivana's got a portal ready to go."

"Oh, how about that. Doctor Sivana." There's a brief pause. "Dinah says she needs me to put up some shelves today. Too bad, huh?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
08:02 GMT +2

"John, are you..? Sure about this?"

John reaches into his coat and pulls out a slowly charging crystal.

"Yeah. Synchronicity wave. Felt it the moment I saw Supergirl."

Oliver raises an eyebrow, a gesture that's not easy to see with a domino mask on. "I would have thought a pilgrim would avoid someplace full of demons. Or is this more of a challenge?"

John looks slightly puzzled, and I-. Oh.

"The Witch-Hunter Abednego called himself a synchronicity pilgrim, but that's a term I've only heard used by his people. And it doesn't have to be a spiritual journey in the classical religious sense."

"Oh?" Oliver looks at John curiously. "So how does it work?"

"Well, it's a bit…" He takes a breath as he slips the crystal back into his pocket. "A bit of self-hypnosis, a bit of reaching out to the magic around you and letting it guide you. You need some idea where you're trying to get, but at the same time you can't force how it takes you there."

"Can anyone learn it?"

"Anyone can learn magic. But there's usually good reasons not to."

Dinah and Alan stroll back in from having a word with Dr. Sivana, neither of them exactly looking happy about things.

"Problem?"

Alan shakes his head. "No, he's clean. It's just…"

Dinah exhales sharply. "It feels like he's getting off lightly."

"He wasn't being punished anyway. And this way the world benefits from his work. Though probably not from his analysis of romantic comedies."

Alan shakes his head again, but this time there's a small smile. "It's a shame more mad scientists aren't like him. Oh, how's that..? Therapy workshop Ted Kord was running coming along?"

"It's hard to find evidence of crimes not committed, but it's turning a profit and there haven't been any 'incidents' yet."

Dinah regards me curiously. "I'm a little surprised that you're not more..."

Alan raises his eyebrows. "Aggressive?"

Oliver holds out his right hand, palm up. "Vengeful?"

"Psychotically murderous?"

"You did boast that you'd killed more people than anyone else in human history."

"But Mister Crock hasn't tried to get in contact with his family, has he? Point is, I don't see any point in killing people who are straightening themselves out. My kill count comes from people in lawless regions of space who are perfectly fine being evil."

I step towards the machine. A quick scan shows that it's live, and similar enough to other similar devices that I've scanned that I'm confident that it does what it's supposed to.

Oliver looks around. "We're not bringing Kara with us?"

"I.. thought it best to make sure.. that they…"

He nods. "That they want her back."

"Basically." I press the helpfully labelled 'on' button and stand back as the space in the arch of machinery turns matte black. "Who wants to go first?"

John pulls another crystal out of his pocket and throws it into the blackness. It disappears as soon as it passes the aperture.

"Feels like it worked. And it feels-" He steps forward. "-like the place to g-."

He vanishes into the void.

Oliver watches the black rectangle for a moment. "Ah, how do we know it worked?"

I close my eyes, feeling for-.

I open my eyes, nodding. "He still exists. I can feel his route from here. Follow me."

I step into the blackness, and while there's a moment of disorientation, when I reappear a moment later I note with satisfaction that that was the smoothest transition that I've had from one of these things. John's just a little way ahead, picking up his crystal and holding it up to his face to study. We've.. come out in a woodland, it's… Huh, Yellowstone Park. Sky looks clear, and I'd say it's.. late morning, probably.

Didn't Demon Superman hit Yellowstone?

"John, are we-?"

"Huh." Oliver steps out of thin air behind me, looking around. "I was expecting something a little more… Beat up."

"I think we might have a problem."

"What, Sivana got the-" Dinah walks through behind him as he takes a more careful look around. "-wrong Earth?"

"Um. It.. doesn't look like a trap…"

"Go home and try again?"

"No." John shakes his head. "This is where we're supposed to be."

Oliver smiles. "The wizard's being all ominous and cryptic. Must be Tuesday."

"Also, it's not going to switch for a return journey for an hour. It's the one drawback of this machine."

Dinah tries her arm computer. "Can't find the local GPS."

Ring, scan the… Ah, scan just Yellowstone. Just in case someone can detect my scans.

Compliance.

I generate a map construct in the middle of our group. "Looks pretty normal. A few craters are in different places; looks like Morrow didn't build a base-."

"Alert! Incoming-!

The sun goes out, and my map shudders as it adjusts to fit-. Two giant-

Oliver puts an arrow on string. "Oh hell no."

-humanoids-.

I look up at the giant Amazo androids glowering down at us.

"Stand down, metahumans!"

And between them, a normal-sized woman in a grey uniform.

"You will be taken into custody, at which point it will be determined whether charges will be brought against you in addition to the charges for operating an unlicensed teleportation system."

Ah. Yes, that's…

"Let.. me just go and talk to her."

Oliver has an arrow on string, but he's keeping it pointed down.

"Orange, those are giant Amazos."

"Yes, and they're not attacking. Having overwhelming force that can be deployed against serious threats is a very sensible thing to do. But since we're not here to fight anyone, we should be able to talk things out."

I float up into the air, making sure to keep my constructs to myself.

"Hello! I'm-."

She snarls. "A Green Lantern. You're coming with-" She lunges towards me. "-me!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
08:06 GMT +2

"I'-"

Scenery skips and the trees around me shudder as whoever-this-is craters the ground with her fist armour.

"-m-"

My field of view skips again and now I'm directly behind the head of one of the Amazos as the Woman in Grey careens into the sky.

Construct armour.

"-not sure-"

And she's back and my armour is a spider's web of cracks as her fists move faster than I can keep track even in an accelerated frame of mind! Deploy kinetic shield generators inside the construct armour and exit through the back drop the armour and-.

And she flies at the kinetic barrier fists first and it holds, flaring into solidity. Though it's doing that unpleasant flashing thing that the ones I used in Argentina did when they got ridiculously overstretched. This version should be more resilient but my brief test with Kal-El led me to conclude that Amanda Waller's speech about how Superman couldn't break out of Belle Reve was double bullshit.

"Hello, I'm from parallel universe sixteen. I'm very sorry if-"

She eases off on the punching, watching me like a hawk.

"-I broke local law coming here, but-."

"Ignorance of the law is no excuse."

"Actually, I think this situation is more like being shipwrecked than anything else, and you can't get arrested for improper entry if your ship-"

This time she pulls back her right fist and drives from the shoulder!

"-sank."

I transition back as she drifts forward.

"I've still got you for resisting arrest and assault."

"Not unless standards are very different here to what they are at home." I consider shrugging, but she wouldn't be able to see inside my armour and I'm not taking it off. "You haven't formally identified yourself or provided evidence that you have arrest authority."

She frowns, clearly offended. "What?"

"We used laminated cards with a name, serial number and a crest indicating which organisation we work for? If you use something else-."

"Interceptor, Justice Society International."

…

"I'm sorry, did you say 'Justice Society International'?"

"So now you know who we are?"

"In my timeline, the Justice Society of America shut down in the fifties. I've still got no idea who you are, and you haven't presented me with an-"

The scenery skips again.

"-y identification, it's automatic, stop trying to hit me and try talking like a civilised person.".

"Lanterns aren't allowed on Earth."

"I'll leave as soon as my-." Oh. "Oh."

"Oh?"

"We were trying to get to Earth Six Six Six, which this clearly isn't. But since we don't know why we ended up here, it's… Probably not safe to.. use it until.. we work out why."

"Story falling apart already?"

"You detected our arrival. Presumably, you can narrow down the sort of teleportation device we used. I appreciate-" I gesture to the Amazos with my right hand. "-the rapid response squad, but since we're clearly not violent, it should be safe for you to call in a forensic team."

"Alien law enforcement organisations are not allowed on Earth."

"Are alien diplomatic officials?"

"You're not an alien."

"No, but you recognise the ring."

"We don't have diplomatic contact with Oa. They don't seem to get the whole 'this isn't your planet' thing."

"Serious question, I don't mean this as an insult: are you colour blind?"

"Power rings are Oan technology."

"Power rings are Maltusian technology, of which the grandly-titled 'Guardians of the Universe' are one faction. To the best of my knowledge-"

I try feeling the honden, and it's there, but no one else is drawing on it. No other active Lanterns at all.

"-the Orange Lantern Corps doesn't exist in this parallel, so I'm not trying to police anything. However, I still hold the rank of Illustres, and I still report directly to Controller Hinon Hee Hananan and no maltusian really likes dealing with aliens."

"Do you have any documentation to prove that?"

"Ah… I have a Themysciran diplomatic passport, but the Controllers sort of assume that the ring is.. enough."

She considers this for a moment. I can clearly see her desire for direct action, firmly bound by her drive for order. "You'll stay here while we bring in a team?"

I fan my arms out to the sides. "Happy to."

She's still staring at me, and I'm not sure if she's just naturally confrontational and can't cope with other means of interacting or if I'm actually doing something-

"What about the Green Arrow cosplayer, the Black Canary cosplayer and the creepy guy in the coat?

-suspicious.

"Green Arrow Sixteen, Black Canary Sixteen… Two, and John Constantine Sixteen. Ah… They're not diplomatic officials, but I can make them my staff?"

"You expect-."

"Making friends already, Paul?"

Alan floats up besides me and Interceptor actually backs off, her face falling slack.

"Commander?"

Alan look puzzled. "Ah, not that I know of? I'm from a parallel universe."

"Blue Lantern, she works for Justice Society International. Guess who didn't disband in the fifties here?"

"I.. see." He takes a moment to absorb that. "Then howsabout we go and say 'hi' to me?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th October 2013
Pass

"…whether or not you want to move back here full-time."

Slipstream looks down at the ruins of the city of Kaon and makes a decision very quickly. This isn't the city where she rose up against her masters rulers. This isn't the city where she trained for the war that would liberate her comrades.

"This is a giant pile of scrap."

Her partner glances up at her for a moment, only moving his eyes before he goes back to staring out across the… Giant pile of scrap.

"It's a magnificent pile of scrap. The sheer size of it…"

There's a.. sound, then she sees in the distance-

"Slipstream?"

-a swarm of swarm of swarm of ow!

She glares down in irritation, pulling her right leg away as her backstabbing partner lowers his scaled down power spear. "Hey!"

"You were glitching out. What did you see?"

She tests the servos in her right foot where he poked her. Not that they were short on materials for repairs but that stung!

"I'll rub some oil on it later. Did you spot Autobots?"

With the war… Technically over after Megatron threw in the towel-. Well, that was what the Autobot's broadcasts said, and they saw Knockout and teams of vehicons making repairs with Autobots in the ruins of Iacon when they over flew the area. Finding out whether it was true or not would require direct communication of a sort…

The thing about playing both sides against the middle so that you had the space to do your own thing was… It didn't exactly endear you to either of them. More to the point, the victor in a civil war might decide that they had the authority to actually make laws or something, and as accommodating as India had been, she didn't think that they would be prepared to fight it if the Autobots under Optimus Prime and his American allies starting kicking up dust about her and her partner staying on Earth after everyone else left.

And she'd just got the full-body oil bath working just the way she liked it.

"No. Scraplets."

"Ah." He raises his binoculars to his eyes, staring out across the former city with new focus. "Are they heading this way?"

She steels her sockets and engages her magnification systems to take a closer look.

"No. It looks like they're inert. There's not all that much left for them to eat here."

"How worried do we need to be?"

"You don't need to be worried at all. They don't eat humans."

"There is no 'we' without you, partner."

"I don't need to be worried unless they wake up. Usually-." She crouches, arm-mounted blasters deploying and tracking the slow-flying watch-scraplet. "Usually they'll take it in turns to stay awake, and the one that's awake can wake the rest of when there's food."

"How do you kill them?"

"Lure them into an enclosed space and the hit them with something they can't dodge. Glass gas and cryogenic spray were a good choice." Her wings tilt down for a moment. "Of course, back in the old days they'd just hand some poor clanker a photon bomb, paint them in energon and drop them into a swarm."

He pats her foot again, this time with his hand. For a moment she's confused. She hasn't forgotten that he's there and it doesn't look like he wants to direct her attention to something. Instead, he's… Trying to reassure her? About what happened to bots who blew up before his species discovered fire?

"They didn't drop me."

He takes his hand away, and she thinks that perhaps she did something wrong. That was the selfish thing to say, wasn't it?

"Does that affect our scavenging mission?"

"I don't think so. That's the old manufacturing sector. There won't be anything worth taking there that we can actually move."

"No transmetal samples?"

"Transmetal samples are rare. We might not find any, but we certainly won't find them in the labour pits."

He nods. "Museums and private laboratories it is. Same for polydermal grafting?"

"No. We'll need to get into Shockwave's laboratory for that. If any records still exist, that's where they'll be." She takes one last look at the slumbering scraplets, then retracts her blasters into her forearms. "That's also the dangerous part."

"I know." He exhales sharply, and she feels his irritation through their bond.

And she shares it. Getting the Apex Armour would have been nice, but instead it got picked up by Starscream and then captured by the Autobots. Plus the fact that the Apex Armour would let him tank shots for her. Getting into a facility with defences built by the greatest mind in the Decepticon army with just her own light frame isn't something she's exactly looking forward to.

Something twitches in her spark at the idea of Paul being able to exist on her scale, and deal with the world as she does. The alternative… Building her a techno-organic avatar, is… Weird. Not.. bad, having taken an organic as her 'partner' she's fully aware that she's given up the ability to insult 'alternate lifestyle choices' without being a titan-sized hypocrite. Doubly so given that the only reason they haven't gone further is that he doesn't have the parts.

Had they..? Rushed things?

Maybe. But if you're not prepared to go fast then you shouldn't be a seeker.

She transforms, popping open her canopy as she does so. And she actually feels her servos relax slightly as she feels his weight on her boarding ladder, on the rim of her cockpit and then finally into her chair. A chair she hadn't needed before she met him and just used her cockpit for improved optical sensors, but which she wouldn't be without.

Canopy closed, she activates her anti-gravity system and ion thrusters. Main engines would make far too much noise somewhere with scraplets -pit-spawned little miscasts that they are- and…

And fly.

She finds it strange how strange it feels to be flying inside again. The few Earth buildings big enough for her to walk inside certainly didn't have space for flying. And flying around the broken-apart remains of Junkion wasn't the same thing. Kaon wasn't repaired by whatever the Autobots did to fix the planet, but it's a lot more whole than she remembers it in the days before the exodus.

Which means she has to worry about which of Kaon's automated defences got repaired as well.

"Were you cast around here?"

"No."

An odd question. It's not as if she had any great ties to the long-destroyed factory platform where the Quintessons had her built. Then she feels his concern and realises that he felt the way her thoughts were drifting and decided to distract her. And as she slaloms around Kaon's corridors she can't think of a reason not to go along with it.

"No, but I spent a lot of time in Kaon. You want a tour?"

"I do."

"Okay then. Let's see what I can remember."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
08:21 GMT -5

We all stare at the JSI building as Alan and I fly our team over New York.

John smirks on the orange platform next to me. "Very subtle. I like it."

It's not subtle at all. A giant skyscraper with… The upper quarter of the building actually floating over the rest in what strikes me as an incredibly bad design choice. If anything interfered with the anti-gravity system it would just fall and kill everyone-.

"Nth metal, of course."

Interceptor glares at me from her position slightly above us.

"You aren't authorised to scan anything."

"I didn't; it's just obvious. No one would be stupid enough to build something like that with a normal anti-gravity system, so you used a material that would always be 'on'. It's still a bad design but at least it's not an immanent threat to life."

"That's a…" Alan frowns. "That's a lot of Nth metal to make a building float. Carter always told me that he didn't have much of the stuff."

"Critical resource availability is a classified topic."

Alan raises his left eyebrow at her. "Can't be that critical if you're using it to make a building."

"Critical-."

"Okay." He raises his right hand, smiling. "Okay. Forget I asked."

Oliver is sitting on the edge of Alan's construct, left leg dangling over the edge. He carefully studies the city, and-. And the several other buildings which have 'JSI' inscribed on their frontier.

He does not look happy.

Then he looks up towards Interceptor. "So, you think I'm a cosplayer, huh?"

"No."

He gives her a moment to expand on that, and is disappointed.

"What, the JSI doesn't do public relations training?"

"Either you're telling the truth, in which case you're not a member of the public, or you're lying, in which case you're a criminal. In either case you're wasting my time."

Oliver nods, and I already know that he's going to-.

"So what's he like?"

"I've never met him. As I understand it, he's a well-regarded hero in Star City."

"He's a member of the JSI?"

"All superheroes worth mentioning are members of the JSI."

"Huh."

Interceptor glances down when he doesn't have a follow up, but it's Dinah who speaks up.

"Am I a member?"

"Are you Dinah Drake?"

"That was my mother."

Oliver looks away for a moment with a smirk. I… Seem to remember from the comics that he actually mistook her for her mother when he was first starting out. And that he'd had a crush on her mother. For obvious reasons I've never asked…

"Who was your father?"

"Larry Lance."

"Oh."

Dinah narrows her eyes slightly, more in curiosity than hostility. "What do you mean, 'oh'?"

"In our universe she was only married to him for a few years. She had an affair with Starman and they both left their spouses. It was a big scandal at the time. They were both discharged from the Society. I think they had a daughter, but her name wasn't 'Dinah'."

Dinah takes a moment to process that, while I-.

A statue. Dominator, a couple of khundians, facing people I assume are local superheroes. A list of-. That's a long list of names.

"Why is there a statue of a Dominator down there?"

"You know of them?"

"I destroyed one of their prisons. They're a distant fourth on my priority list."

"'Distant'-?" Interceptor scowls. "The Dominators attacked Earth and made off with tens of thousands of humans as slaves! That memorial commemorates everyone who died fighting them and everyone they stole! Who are you prioritising above them?!"

"The Reach, Apokolips, then the Spider Guild. Our Dominators are pretty unpleasant, but they aren't expansionist. The Reach are, and they subvert, enslave and then exterminate their neighbours. Apokolips is working on a plan to mind control the entire universe. And the Spider Guilders eat people."

"The Dominion vivisect people."

"But not many, and not particularly fast. I did say they were fourth."

Alan looks at-. Yeah, okay. We make eye contact and I give him the nod to take over.

"Interceptor, how were they able to do that?"

"They had a space fleet and a huge number of soldiers. We couldn't hit their ships, and we couldn't fire nukes at our own cities. That's why the JSI has put so much effort into building up our forces: to make sure that no one invades the Earth again."

"How long ago was that?"

"About fifteen years."

Hm. Reminds me a little of what Abra said that the Reach ended up doing: grabbing as many people with superpowers as possible and setting up a colony. But while the Reach do sometimes sustain useful slave populations for a time, the Dominators generally don't bother. They have tributary worlds but they generally don't do much with them, having long since learned everything that studying them could teach them.

Of course… I do know where the Dominion is. There aren't that many worlds that the humans they abducted might have been taken to.

"I assume that the force they used was almost entirely Khundian? None of their own military?"

"Yes, that's.. right. Why?"

"I'll need access to your historical-"

A green streak flies towards us from the JSI building, the pale green flickering flame aura making it pretty clear who it is.

Commander Scott comes to a halt just ahead of us, floating in the air and staring at us in that way Batman does when he's waiting for you to make a problem for him. He's wearing what looks like a silver spacesuit, minus the helmet. Interceptor comes to attention in the air at once, while the rest of us just stare back.

Alan floats closer and I mentally compare the two. The Commander has less hair, and he looks a lot more fierce. More hostile. Might be situational, of course.

"Hey."

The Commander looks at him for a moment longer, then nods to Interceptor.

"He's me. All of you, come with me for debriefing."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
08:29 GMT -5

Silver-grey appears to be the JSI's uniform colour of choice. Particular designs vary, personal icons are allowed and the uniforms may be more or less armoured. Not sure whether that's-.

I stop for a moment, exhaling quietly.

**Brainwave, I can hear you perfectly well.**

There's no verbal response, but I notice that what I'm seeing starts to trigger fewer memory connections.

**And I noticed that as well. I'm not going to be annoyed-.**

Interceptor glares at me. "Do you need the bathroom?"

"No, I'm just having a word with Brainwave Two. You would not believe how long the Justice League went without telepathic security scans."

"'Justice League'?"

"Our Justice Society shut down in the fifties." At the front of the column, Commander Scott glances back with a small nod. "The Justice League is the organisation that does the equivalent job now."

I feel a subtle probe-.

**I'm being polite by asking. Is there something you're looking for in particular, or do you want me to eject you forcibly?**

Commander Scott glances back again as we approach his office. "Give Brainwave a break, Lantern. He's doing his job."

His eyes go slightly blank for a moment, and my mind returns to baseline performance levels.

"I'm linked to a powerful elemental. Last time she felt a hostile mind connected to mine, she ate it. I'm not threatening him, I'm warning him."

Oliver shrugs. "If it makes him feel any better, I didn't feel a thing."

Commander Scott stops outside of a secure door, two cybernetically augmented soldiers standing guard. I see their eyes flicker, presumably as they perform identification checks. Then they stand aside and the door opens.

Wait a.. moment.

I stop in front of one of the cyborgs, allowing my empathic vision to open up a little.

I smile at him. "Ah, I see what they did wrong."

"Sir?"

"The feeling of disassociation. They've rigged you up as if you had a lateralised brain, but you don't. As a result, half your body is lagging slightly. Your processor's trying to adapt, but you're subconsciously aware of the slight extra load. Want me to fix it?"

"A-?"

He's clearly surprised, his eyes darting first to the other soldier and then to his Commander. But his communications implants are also lighting up, so I assume that he's also using the proper channels.

"Corporal, you're relieved. Report for decontamination. Lantern, after we're done, write up what you think you found-"

A folder precipitates out of thin air and I pass it to the corporal.

"-and hand it over to our medical team. Corporal, hand it over before decon."

"Yes, Commander."

He takes a firm grip of the folder and marches off down the corridor.

The Commander fixes me with a stone stare. "Stop scanning my soldiers."

"That wasn't-. Not all of my abilities need a ring. I'd need a magic blindfold to stop looking at people."

"Just get in the office. Interceptor, you're with us."

He heads in, the rest of the party having already filed through. Alan's looking at a picture on his desk with a frown, while the rest have found seats-.

Oh no. That's a picture of Commander Scott with Molly Mayne, Jade and Obsidian. Alan's… Looking at Molly's face.

Commander Scott walks around to his side of the desk, clearly spotting what's holding his alter-ego's attention. A moment later Alan realises that the Commander is looking at him and switches his attention to his doppelgänger.

"You remarried?"

"You didn't?"

"No, I-. I always hoped Rose would snap out of it."

Commander Scott nods, as if that makes sense to him. "My Rose was dead. And I still left it for a good long time before marrying Molly."

"Hm."

Interceptor remains standing at parade rest behind the chair line. I ignore the spare chair and generate a construct to sit on instead.

Commander Scott takes a moment to make eye contact with each of us. "So you were trying to get somewhere else. Where?"

"Earth Six Six Six." Commander Scott narrows his eyes interrogatively at Alan. "I know, I know. They got taken over by demons a while ago, and…" Alan glances at me. "Paul and.. some allies of his went over and got rid of them. One of their people ended up in our Earth, so we're going to make sure things are okay there before sending her back."

"Is Earth Six Six Six any threat to you, or to us?"

"It was. One of their demon cults was invading at least one other parallel that I know of. But we shut that down, and the survivors are busy sticking their planet back together. Or, were, when I left."

Commander Scott nods. "Do you think something went wrong with your portal?"

"N-"

Oliver puts his right fist over his mouth. [cough]"Yes."[/cough]

"-o, it doesn't seem likely, if only because the individual who built it wouldn't have any reason to send us here. But there are ways to interfere with inter-parallel travel, and I suspect that's what we ran into."

"You mind sharing that technology?"

"The shield?" He nods. "No problem at all, though I should warn you that it can be bypassed."

I raise my left hand, and a binder containing the technical specifications appears on his desk.

He nods. "As far as I know, there's no equivalent technology, or.. research that could lead to the development of that technology, on our Earth. We'll do a check just in case, but I doubt that the problem is with us."

I generate a construct hand and poke John with it.

"Whu-? Oh. No, I know we're supposed to be here but I don't know why. I can go for a wander if our hosts don't mind..?"

Commander Scott frowns at Alan, who shrugs. "Wizard."

"Oh." He turns to John. "You can't go anywhere unescorted, but we can find someone who can do the job. If you don't have any better ideas, the rest of you can work with our science team on your problem. We don't like people dropping in unannounced any more than you like being here."

Nods from the Leaguers. But I don't think I'd really add anything. I might have records of super science, but that doesn't mean that it's my field. On the other hand, if I'm trying to earn points with the locals to defray suspicion…

"Actually, if you don't need me, I was wondering if you wanted me to have a poke at the Dominators for you?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th October 2013
Probably A Few Hours Later

"At least we don't have to worry about traps scratching your decals."

Slipstream looks around at the blasted hole that was once Shockwave's roof. Whatever the Autobots did to repair Cybertron has had next to no effect on the heavily damaged workshop that was once home to the greatest mind in the Decepticon cause. She'd assumed that when he turned up on Earth it was because he'd finished whatever he was doing on Cybertron and had decided that it was time to put his work to use. The fact that the Decepticons started using Predacons a little while later gave credence to the idea.

That he gave up on Cybertron because someone wrecked his workshop just never occurred.

"We might find something in storage."

"Don't worry too much." Her partner pats her control panel, though he doesn't touch the controls because it's no time for that. "We've found plenty of useful technical data. Finding a workable method for bio-transference was always a pie in the sky thing anyway."

She thought that was the whole point of coming here; either getting the materials he needed to cyberise more of his body or getting her the materials for a techno-organic avatar. Since they're probably not going to get that, isn't this a waste of time?

"You're not disappointed?"

"I got to see a magnificently desolate alien world in the company of a local guide whom I adore. We downloaded data which we can not merely sell for our own enrichment, but hold over potential enemies so that they daren't attack us for fear it will end up in the hands of their enemies. To say nothing of the repairs it will let us make to the cybertronian technology left on Earth. Sure, we didn't get some of the things that would have been nice to have, but it's not that big a deal."

"You sounded so hopeful when we talked about it. I don't want you to be disappointed and not tell me."

"If I worried about what I didn't have the whole time, I'd never spend any time appreciating what I have. What we have. I hope we'll never run out of things to strive for, but life's pretty good. Isn't it?"

Huh.

"It is. It really is." She increases resolution on her sensors, improving her view of Shockwave's laboratory. "Still worth going in?"

"If you can't detect any weapons. It won't break my heart if we don't get it, but I'd still like it."

"Alright."

She reduces power to her anti-gravity and shifts her thrusters, performing a shallow dive which takes them through the hole in the roof. She tenses as they enter the room, but no turrets deploy from the walls and no voices shout in alarm. Feeling a little mischievous, she pops her canopy and transforms, tossing her partner into the air and catching him in her right hand as she lands on her feet. She smiles at the way his normally calm and confident expression is suddenly discombobulated, not sure which way's up and what's going on, because that's how he makes her feel a lot of the time and this is the best she can to do pay him back.

He rests his arms on her forefinger. He regains his calm almost immediately, but she can feel the tremor as his chest pump pounds to increase the flow of fuel to his servos.

"I've changed my mind. We'll find a way to transfer me into a titan, just so I can do that to you."

"Sure." She puts him down on what used to be a computer console. "A titan. I'm sure we can find-."

Ptchung!

The burst of purple energy hits Slipstream directly in the chest, sending her hurtling backwards, her cockpit and the surrounding armour melted to slag!

Ptchung!

The second shot hits her right shoulder as she stumbles, bursting the joint apart and sending the arm pinwheeling across the chamber, guns halfway deployed as liquid fuel leaks from the wound!

Chm. Chm.

At first, all he can see is a glowing red eye.

Chm. Chm.

Then the huge bulk of Shockwave marches into view, gun arm pointed at Slipstream who is struggling to remain animate.

"Slipstream. And.. pet."

He raises his gun arm, pointing it at Slipstream's head as she tried to lever herself up on her remaining arm. She freezes, optics locked on glow of the gun's interior.

"I do not know how you found me, but I find the fact that I have the opportunity to remove you as a distraction… Satisfying."

Her eyes dart to her-.

"Senator Shockwave." The tiny human spreads out his arms in a gesture of appeal that Shockwave almost certainly doesn't recognise. Senator? Was that what he was before the Great War? "What possible good is there in killing us?"

"Ordinarily I would interrogate you for information. But I do not have the resources to spare."

His gun chimes as he charges-.

"I believe that this course of action is illogical."

His gun doesn't move, but his head swivels to glare at the human.

"Slipstream has betrayed the Decepticon cause. Killing her will permanently remove her as a threat. Killing you will permanently remove you as an information leak."

"What is the Decepticon cause?"

"The destruction of the Autobots."

"And that's it?"

"Explain."

"I remember, Senator, that you have a rather different answer prior to your…" he points to his face. "Empurata and mnemosurgery."

"A different age."

"But you remember it. The aim of a Decepticon is not just to be a Decepticon; that's a circular definition. It is to achieve freedom for all the Cybertronians the old High Council oppressed. To cast them down and ensure that their kind can never regain power. Isn't it?"

"It was. But that definition is no longer relevant."

"Oh, I think it is. What are the High Council doing right now?"

"They are dead."

"And do the Autobots use cold construction? Do they have slaves? Castes?"

"They do not. This discussion is irrelevant."

"No, it isn't. Because you've recognised the contradiction. Killing us might help the organisation that calls itself 'The Decepticons' in the sense that it gives the group a tactical advantage, but it doesn't do anything to advance the cause that is supposed to define the organisation. Can you be a Decepticon without doing Decepticon things? Without fulfilling the function that defines them?"

"That-." Shockwave's optical unit spins, and his gun lowers as he devotes more time to considering the subject.

"I'm curious. Even after you had the opportunity to reverse what they did to you, you never took it. Why?"

"The capacity for logical thought was more useful to the cause than empathy."

"You concluded that logically, weighing up the alternatives?"

"Yes."

"And you did that after your enemies fiddled around with your mind? How do you know that it was a logical decision, when the thing you were using to decide whether or not it was logical was the thing they altered? How do you know you haven't been following High Council programming ever since?"

Shockwave staggers, his gun arm hanging loose. Paul checks Slipstream. She.. doesn't look good, and she's definitely feeling pain, but she doesn't look like she's in danger of bleeding out.

"I-. If.. the objective of the Decepticon organisation has been achieved-. We… Won. The War would be… Over. Anyone who stands against the caste system… Is a Decepticon. But… That includes all current generation Autobots. Why-? Why didn't I see it before?"

"Because the High Council programmed you not to. To think in tactical, act utilitarian terms and ignore long term strategic issues. They didn't want a reasonable, compassionate Senator working against them from inside government and rallying the population to force them to reform. But a cold, hard killer would work fine as a threat to scare the population who were worried about what Megatron was doing in Kaon."

"That… Is… Logical. Then-. There is no reason to.. kill. And even if you are mistaken about what the High Council did to me, there is no overriding reason to maintain this mindset. In fact, my prior way of thinking is more likely to be useful as Optimus Prime forges a new government."

He lowers his gun, deliberately this time.

"No individuals with the required skills to reverse mnemosurgery survive into the modern era."

"There may be a way around that. If you give Slipstream the medical attention that she needs."

"What is that?"

"Prayer."

16th October 2013
Once Slipstream Is Up And Taking Light Refreshment

The guns are pointing over his head as he strides out of the ground bridge and into the Autobot command centre.

"Hello, Optimus. I need to borrow the Matrix really quickly. Don't worry, I'll bring it back."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
10:14 GMT -5

I grin as I spot the latest addition to the room.

"Princess Koriand'r! Good to see you!"

Glowing green eyes and a slightly puzzled explanation confront me, her head wreathed in the gloriously frizzy eighties hair that I saw on the version of her on Earth with the Gold Lantern Corps.

"I am sorry, I do not think that we have met."

"Parallel universe." I hold up my left fist, knuckles and ring facing her. "When I founded the Orange Lantern Corps, our Koriand'r was one of the first wave of recruits."

I generate construct images of her and Komand'r. Koriand'r looks at her own image with curiosity, while-.

"You recruited Blackfire?"

While the local Starman regards me with incredulity.

"I encountered her before she went-" I dismiss the constructs. "-full evil. Our Vega's a much better place with certain people no longer in it."

Koriand'r smiles. "The Citadel is defeated?"

"I killed the First myself, and destroying the Citadel Complex and fleet was a team effort. The Spider Guild sept sued for peace after their leaders were killed, Karna now belongs to the Karnans and the Psion's Wombworld was scoured from orbit."

"Heh." The masked Atom Smasher nods approvingly. "Thorough."

"It's not very often you encounter a species with literally no redeeming moral characteristics. Vega was unlucky enough to have two. Past tense. I-."

Interceptor drops down next to me, having been talking to the platoon of cyborg soldiers on the other side of the room. Most of them are humanoid, but a few have more unusual shapes. Those ones appear to have… Clouded or suppressed emotional responses. Are they condemned criminals? Or do the people with weaker emotions just cope with it best?

"That's everyone. We're ready."

I nod, then turn back to Koriand'r. "No time right now, but if you're interested in a power ring, come and see me after the mission."

"Very… Well?"

I float over to the stage where Alan and Commander Scott are ready to begin. Just.. one addition.

Ring, call Green Two Eight One Four. Both of them.

Error. Only one connection available.

Ah, the old 'one-Lantern-and-however-many-deputies' system. I remember a comic where Jordan got knocked out slipping on a bar of soap and… Stewart? Got subbed in with no notice and little training. Terrible system.

He'll do.

Jordan's face appears. I suppose that not having to deal with Earth's nonsense means that he's a little likelier to live to an old age.

"Green Lantern Two Eight One Four. Commander Scott."

Commander Scott turns to the glowing face of the man he chased off Earth.

"Green Lantern, on this one occasion, I am inviting you to Earth. My location."

"Why? You hate me."

"No, I just have no respect for the people you work for. You can quit at any time and come home without us charging you with anything. But this is an off-Earth operation-"

A few ears in the audience metaphorically prick up.

"-so you are actually relevant in your current role."

"Where?"

"Metropolis. My current location."

"Okay, but-. 'Off-world'? You're going to-!"

"Come or don't." His eyes dart to me, and I cut the connection. He nods, then walks over to the podium. "As I know you all just heard, we've just had an opportunity handed to us. Our parallel universe friends here both have power rings with all their functions unlocked. That means they can both fly faster than light with passengers."

He gives that a moment to sink in, then makes it clear in case anyone is a little slow.

"That means that we can finally hit the Dominion."

There's an excited exhalation, eyes opening wide with feverish desire. I've seen the same thing in the faces of thousands of people where the Reach are concerned. People from Earth 16 barely know that the Dominion exists, and that's from my reports. Here, they appear to be global hate figures.

"While the Justice Society International is primarily charged with protecting Earth…" He smiles. "I'd be lying if I said we didn't hope an opportunity like this would come along at some point."

"It's been fifteen years. There isn't much chance that the people they took are still alive. But the dominators who took them almost certainly are, and we could get lucky. Orange Lantern-" I raise my right hand and then lower it. "-and Blue Lantern-" Alan waves. "-will take our taskforce to a world on the border of Dominion space, then perform reconnaissance operations in an attempt to locate exactly where our people were taken and by whom. Once we have that information, we will be attacking in force with the aim of killing everyone involved in the attack on Earth."

Several nods.

"Orange Lantern has provided briefing documents on Dominion society." JSI staffers begin walking around the room, handing out binders to the attendees who aren't able to download them into their brains. "And it turns out that despite the impression they gave us, most of their population aren't involved in raiding other worlds for test subjects. Turns out that it's the exclusive purview of their rulers, the ones we all remember from their broadcasts with the big red circles on their foreheads. Those are all considered acceptable targets, as is anyone with a gun or any kind of super power. The rest are generally slightly less dangerous than humans are, and we are not going to punish them for the deeds of their overlords."

The nods to that comment are more sombre, but he chose well when he assembled this gathering. None of them are interested in taking it out on the entire population. I suppose that's what separates superheroes from...

Alright, even I thought 'me' there. But dominators aren't spiders or reacheans. Spiders consider it normal and pleasurable to drug their sophont victims awake as they eat them. Reacheans love lording it over alien slaves. Most dominators don't even have contact with aliens.

"Any humans we locate will be evacuated and put through a thorough decontamination session before being returned to Earth. In the event that we manage to kill all of our targets and complete the rescue, I will authorise infrastructure destruction missions as I deem appropriate. It probably won't be practical for us to take away their ability to wage interstellar war, but I'll feel much happier with them keeping what's left of their fleet home to ward off their neighbours."

The platoon commander of the cyborgs raises his hand and gets a nod.

"Could we capture their ships, sir?"

"While our new Lantern allies can read any spoken or written language, the rest of us don't have that ability. Learning how to fly Dominion ships isn't something we can do on the fly, and they have a completely different technology base to us. Time allowing, we might be able to capture examples of their equipment, but it's a low priority task."

The cyborg nods.

"Once that mission is completed, and everyone is fully recovered, we will plan our assault on the khundians."

I raise my right hand. "Commander?"

He glances back and nods.

"Khundian marriage law says that anyone who defeats a khundian man inherits his wife or wives. I'm happy to help with the mission, but I'm going to need someone who's single to punch me out afterwards."

The wave of laughter is punctuated by the figure in green appearing at the back of the room.

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
10:22 GMT -5

"You're going to what?"

It's interesting to see someone other than Guy whose ring shimmers like that. Guy's ring actually stopped doing it after he merged with Ion; these days it sort of iridesces but not in the same way.

Commander Scott's posture doesn't change as the much younger Sector Lantern squares up to him. No defensive arm crossing, no clenching of hands into fists and no twitching to betray nerves. I don't know how good this Jordan is; our Jordan wasn't at anything like my current level when we first met, and that's with him dealing with Earth-brand madness for most of his career. He's perfectly capable now, if not quite as good as Guy or me, but this Jordan hasn't had that.

"We're going to retaliate against the Dominion. And I've made it perfectly clear that if your Lantern Corps couldn't stop them coming here then you've got no grounds for stopping us."

"That's not how it works. Two wrongs-."

"Enslaving people is wrong. Killing mass-murdering slavers is right."

Jordan takes a breath to calm down, taking a look at Alan and I as he does so.

"And what, you dusted off the old Injustice League power rings? I didn't think you still had those. Is he supposed to be Catwoman or Chronos?"

"I'm the Illustres of the Orange Lantern Corps, parallel universe sixteen. My ring was made by Maltus-resident Controller Hinon Hee Hannanan." I raise my left hand slightly. "This one, anyway. This-" I raise my ring hand to show off Larfleeze's ring. "-one was made by a group effort back when the maltusians were experimenting with power ring technology. I think it was mostly Krona."

Commander Scott flashes me a mild frown.

"'Illustres'?"

"When Green Lanterns are first recruited, they go to Oa for training. Once they graduate, they return to their Sectors as Sector Lanterns. If they serve well they may eventually be considered for promotion to the Honour Guard, an elite group of Lanterns based on Oa who serve as a high powered strike force. The leader or leaders of the Honour Guard have the title 'Illustres', and are probably the most powerful combat Lanterns in the Corps. Above them is the Clarissi, who runs the Corps day to day." I raise my eyebrows at Jordan. "I assume that the Green Lantern Corps in this parallel uses the same system?"

He nods, frowning. "You think you're that good?"

"I've destroyed war fleets, taken on multiple Reach scarabs in combat and I once span the moon around on its axis. So yes, I do think I'm that good."

A quiet exhalation through his nose, then he turns to Alan. "And, what, you're the Illustres of the 'Blue Lantern Corps'?"

"No, I'm the only guy with a blue ring, far as I know." Jordan narrows his eyes as he hears Alan talk. "Paul had to talk a Qwardian Weaponer into making it."

"You're-. Him, from a parallel universe? Oh great. And you got that ring from a Weaponer?"

"Same one as made Sinestro's ring, in point of fact. Apparently, turning something as uplifting as hope into a weapon is something he feels proud of."

"Figures." He returns his attention to Commander Scott. "So why am I here?"

"For one, there's a chance that the Dominion might spot what we're doing and send a fleet to Earth. If that happens, our forces will be ready, but it would help to have someone around who can hit targets in orbit."

"Just to protect Earth?"

"If that's all you're prepared to do, yes. I'd prefer it if you and whatever Lantern is supposed to be dealing with the Dominion joined in with the attack. Orange Lantern and Blue Lantern are transporting our strike teams, and having you along would increase our carry capacity. In return-"

"This better be good."

"-I can offer you a cooperation agreement. You'll be able to come to Earth in costume in pursuit of alien criminals. We'll expect you to work with us, because you are working for an alien government, but we will extend you the same cooperation an Earth police force would an officer from another country in hot pursuit of a criminal."

"That's less cooperation than I get from every other planet in this Sector."

"It's all you'll get from us."

"You'd still take them into custody and expect me to apply to extradite them."

"Yes."

"Could I just visit Earth?"

"As long as you understand that you don't have any official standing or status outside of our agreement, and keep us informed of your movements, yes." A very small and unfriendly smile appears on Commander Scott's mouth. "Missing Carol that much, Jordan?"

Jordan looks away for a moment, but-. Ring, access-. No, don't, they haven't given me permission and I shouldn't take advantage. Neither Commander Scott or Interceptor have facial coverings, and most of the superheroes in the meeting had bare faces as well. Do secret identities just not exist here?

"Fine. There's no Lantern assigned to the Dominion, but I can fly there and back. I should make sure that you people don't go crazy when you get there."

"I've already given orders to focus on military targets. Don't you need to check this with your masters on Oa?"

"No, this is something I can decide for myself. The Guardians don't micromanage Lanterns. Most Green Lanterns hand over their prisoners to the local authorities once they've defeated them."

"Which completely undermines their authority."

Yeah, it does. I'm sure that I've-.

Jordan stares at me. "Something you want to say, 'Illustres'?"

"It's just that I've had this discussion back home. Seeing the Justice Society International implement one of my suggested solutions is.. fascinating for me. I really-" I turn to Commander Scott. "-want to have a look at your SOP bible once we're done."

He smiles faintly. "That's gotta be the first time anyone's ever said that."

"Wait." Jordan narrows his eyes. "You wanna start something like this in your reality?"

"I want to use the example the JSI has set to advise the League on how to expand. At the moment they're not.. very organised. Extremely capable as individuals, but there's no real philosophy on what the organisation is supposed to be in its… Final form. It impedes their effectiveness."

Alan snorts. "If that's how you feel, you could always try joining up."

"I suspect that I'd get outvoted and just make myself part of the problem. But if the League sees someone actually do what I've been talking about, that might change things. Anyway, Jordan, do you want to come with us when we do our reconnaissance flight, or do you want to wait here?"

"I think I'd better come with you."

"Alright." I raise my right hand to my forehead. "Try to keep up."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
10:55 GMT -5

And… Yes. Yes, they're not repositioning.

Finally.

Half an hour. Because the Dominion are perfectly capable of tracking Lanterns and Lantern FTL. But they can't track instant transition, and they can't track a Lantern who isn't actually using their ring. So if wave around a construct, drop it and transition and then rely on my armour's life support system, they don't know where I am. For the most part they appeared to assume that I was still in my original location and running silent there.

So they sent ships and didn't find me.

Repeat that fifty or so times-.

Fifty three.

Thank you, ring. Fifty three times, and they appear to be assuming that the Guardians are testing their response times or something because the ships are keeping to their patrol patterns. On the basis of the messages they've been broadcasting, I'd say that they find this mildly irritating but not worth making a fuss about. They've probably got a high caste research group trying to work out how to detect me.

Will detected. Hope detected.

Right on the borders of Dominion space. I

step out and

reappear next to Alan and Jordan where they float in interstellar space.

"What kept you?"

Jordan's eyes narrow, but more in curiosity than anger. "How did you do that?"

"Mysticism. Each colour has an embodiment, a huge elemental life form associated with the emotion that Lanterns use to activate their rings. Each embodiment has a… Place, where all of their associated emotion exists. I can travel to that place, and from there to anywhere that emotion has ever existed. It's a learnable ability."

"You're saying Green Lanterns can do that?"

"I'm saying that there's no logical reason why a Green Lantern couldn't learn to do it. I have never observed a Green Lantern actually doing it."

"I couldn't scan you coming in."

"Magic tattoos. Try now."

He raises his ring a little, a radar dish construct appearing along side him.

"I'm barely getting you on some things and not getting you at all on others."

"Since you're getting the freedom of the planet for this, you should look into augmenting your abilities. Anyway." Two orange packets leap from my ring and flies to each of theirs. "That's the location of the Dominion Home Defence Fleets and those Deep Space Fleets I've spotted so far. The little ships are expendable drones, the medium sized ones are tanks and the big ones are where-."

Alan frowns in puzzlement. "Tanks?"

"Good shields and armour, designed to survive being hit a lot. As far as I can tell, their guns aren't anything special."

"Tanks have a big gun. Do they have..? A fixed big gun, or-."

"Not a-. Not a literal tank. It's a roleplay term used to refer to-." He's grinning. "Okay, very funny."

Jordan looks blank. "Huh?"

Alan waves his right hand. "Just a… Just a little joke between me and the boy."

He's not getting it.

"Alan's in his nineties. He likes to play up the old man-."

"You're kidding." He looks at Alan, then back at me. "You're not kidding."

"You know Commander Scott-."

"Well, yeah, but I just assumed the timelines didn't line up or something. How?"

Alan floats closer and lays his right hand on Jordan's left shoulder, and I already know-

"I ate my greens, son."

-what he's going to say.

"His ring was damaged, and he ended up absorbing enough green light into himself that he's partially transubstantiated."

"Green."

"Jordan, I'm happy to blow our trumpets all day, but we've got a Dominion to humble."

"That sort of thing got you a blue ticket in my day."

"Do you want to do one more to get it out of your-"

"No, I'm fine."

"-system? Okay, good. So the Dominion don't appear to have anything I couldn't destroy on my own-." I see the look on Jordan's face, and nod seriously. "Those big ships probably have some very creative weapon systems on them, so they're the main target. They will also almost certainly have Lantern interdiction systems on them, so, Alan, you're a distraction-."

"Thank you."

"And that's three. Jordan, you're on evacuation duty and general monitoring."

"And you're going to take those ships on by yourself."

"No, I'm going to take one of those ships on at a time by myself once Alan's drawn off their escorts."

"So you've found which world has the abducted humans on it." He hesitates. "Right?"

"No. This is about making them think that they're being attacked by a Super Lantern so they cluster up their fleets and let us get a good look at their territory without them being able to interfere with our work."

"Do Super Lanterns exist?"

"In our parallel, Larfleeze and Lord Malvolio would both qualify, so if it comes up suggest they look in Vega or Sector One Six Three Four. They're the only Lanterns I know of with more raw power than me. So."

I generate a construct representation of the Dominion, marking major industrial worlds and all fleets with at least one of their largest class of ships.

"That one, that one, that one and then that one. No hanging about. They're probably going to send a threatening message to Oa at that point. If they try to get in touch, just tell them that you're monitoring the situation but haven't engaged the Dominion yourself. If the Guardians want more, put them through to me."

"I.. can do that."

"This fleet appears to be a patrol fleet for the industrial zone here. There might be human prisoners there, but it's probably the easiest fleet to attack. We'll go there first. I'll metaphorically moon a few other fleets to give them a false sense of security while you get into position."

I smile.

"Let's kill some very bad people."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
11:07 GMT -5

Huh. They've responded to me getting closer by spreading their drone ships out widely, though their shield ships are still holding position around their capital ships. One of the fleets tried sneaking stealthed drones close enough to my position to get a meaningful look at me with optical sensors, so I backed off a little quicker there. Maybe they'll decide that the Green Lantern doing it isn't authorised by the Guardians, maybe the Guardians will get a report about an orange Lantern and have a bit of a panic about Larfleeze.

Okay, not panic. Guardian-panic.

Which will hopefully encourage everyone to a cautious-

My ring blinks and

I disengage, moving

to Alan's location.

-state of mind.

Alan's actually armoured up, and-.

"Alan, is that body armour you're wearing?"

"I don't think a superhero should wear it, but with the Sheeda, and… The fact that I might be called into action against things like that in the future… That's not the same thing."

"I'm not criticising the decision. It's nice to know that I got through." … "Lantern Jordan, regarding your personal protective equipment-."

"If you're offering, I'll take it."

"I can't imagine our Jordan saying that, but I'm not going to refuse." Orange rays flare out, getting his measurements. "Now, since you're not used to power armour and I'm not a wizard, this is just-" I begin creating armour around his body. "-for small arms and debris. Don't assume that you can take hits from ship weapons with it."

"Got it."

"Same with the force fields. Don't block shots with your body just because you're a little bit more protected. Your main defence is-"

"My ring, got it."

"-evasion first, ring-generated defences second."

I consider giving him one of those authorised side arms that Guy uses, but since the plan doesn't involve him actually getting into combat, I'll skip it.

"Alright, ready to go." I detach my filaments from him as he checks to see if it impairs his movement. Obviously it impairs it more than the skin tight body stocking he usually wears, but he seems to find it acceptable. "Go when ready. I'll move once the capital ship's escort is distracted."

Alan and Jordan take off, becoming invisible to the unaided eye moments later. The Dominion don't bother interdicting interstellar space in their territory, for much the same reason that spiders don't put 'Caution' signs out outside their webs.

The Dominion fleet responds… Yes, by not doing a lot. Some drones are heading out on an interception course, but they're continuing to ignore them. Closer, closer… They're past the orbit of the system's outermost planet now, and… The fleet is slowing.

Now who's on board?

I see a desire to experiment on a Lantern, to discover what makes the brain behind the ring a good match. Surprisingly little irritation about Lanterns being here, and… Working on a gravity-based weapon?

Inspiring.

Alan and Jordan fly… Not all that far away from an automated mining platform, and Alan punches it with a giant boxing glove construct, sending it flying into one of its neighbours. The impacts reduce them both to mangled wrecks and then they both fall into a decaying orbit around one of the system's gas giants.

That gets a response. The shield ships start turning, increasing their power output to combat levels and strengthening their shields.

Okay. Keep going, keep going…

Alan generates a slingshot construct and sends an asteroid hurtling towards the inner rocky world which the Dominion has colonised. That gets them worried, and the capital ship appears to bend in space as it uses gravity manipulation to turn itself around and begin moving towards Alan. It's dragging the shield ships along with it…

Hm.

I

step out, reappearing

just behind the 'bubble' of altered gravity. Ah, technique seven, thank you Dox, not easy to perform but easy to ramp up when you want to drag a fleet around.

But that does mean that if I do this-

The capital ship's superstructure concertinas as its own gravity manipulation is turned against it, the bubble turning into a flat plane. The shield ships appear to be less affected, their more heavily reinforced hull and smaller size combined with the fact that they're off the plane of the new distortion meaning that they're far more able to absorb the damage.

-and then this…

The capital ship snaps along the centre line, the upper portion and lower portion drifting slightly away from each other. Lights start going out as main power loses its connections to just about everywhere. Dominator elites generally go into lockdown at times like this, as there's not really anything that they can add to an emergency situation like this and their survival is of paramount importance.

Singularity projector.

That got a response. The few available drones begin flying in my direction, and the rear shield ships deploy their weaponry.

Too late.

The singularity beam slices the ship-halves into quarters, catching a shield ship as it passes and pulverising it. I

move

to a dorsal position and carefully target the high caste enclave before firing once more.

That should be sufficient.

I step out and

return to the outskirts of the system, ring feeding me data on what the other Dominion fleets are doing.

"Alan, Jordan, task complete."

They turn around, the Dominion ships which were heading towards them having turned around to back up their overlords.

The other fleets on the other hand have not yet responded. I'd be surprised if no message went out, but this is probably a high caste decision now and they're not going to jump to a conclusion.

Not until I destroy a few more ships, anyway.

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
11:22 GMT -5

Multiple omnidirectional forms of instantaneous communication squawk out across the Dominion, some aiming for my little team, some for other Dominators and others heading for Oa. From the glow of Jordan's ring, I suspect that he's listening in on some of them.

"Problem?"

"Not yet." His ring dims. "Just thinking… The Dominion have been raiding worlds for longer than the Green Lantern Corps has existed. You're making them look like chumps."

"It's like beating Bat-. Ah, a superhero from Earth Sixteen. A very intelligent man who's very good at developing counters to his enemy's strategies. You hit them and you don't stop hitting them until they're dead. If you leave them alive, you can assume that they'll have a counter to everything that you did the first time around within a depressingly short amount of time."

"What did you say he was called?"

"Batman."

"Ah… Okay."

"Bats used to scare him when he was a boy, so when he wanted to become something criminals would fear, he chose them as his emblem."

"No, no, I mean, objectively, it's no worse than what a lot of people pick. I guess bats are kinda scary." He thinks for a moment. "So you're saying that the Green Lantern Corps should have finished the Dominion off?"

"That… Depends. Green Lanterns have a lot of area to cover and there generally aren't that many of you. I could understand your Corps deciding that it didn't have the manpower, or that other things were more urgent. And… You're primarily a policing organisation."

"But?"

"I read a book a while ago. Set on Earth, there was some sort of environmental disaster which caused an outbreak of huge tsunamis all over the world. A group of… I think it was French naval vessels were assigned to evacuate a group of islands which were going to be destroyed. Problem was, those islands were controlled by criminal gangs whose main sources of income were narcotic production and paedophile sex tourism. The rest of the population were their hostages. The French didn't have the resources to carry out a rescue mission. So, the commanding Admiral tells his subordinates that he's taking full responsibility, and orders the marines to shoot through the hostages. In the first ten minutes a lot of innocent people die, then the gangs realise that killing people isn't working and is ensuring that the French don't take them alive. So they drop their weapons and surrender, allowing the island to be safely evacuated. The total deaths were far fewer than there would have been if he'd ordered a series of rescue missions or just abandoned the place."

"So… What, we should just abandon Sectors so we've got the manpower to destroy things like the Dominion?"

"I'd need to know more about your Corps' deployments before I gave a firm answer. I'd probably argue for encouraging Sectors to build up their security fleets and establishing mutual defence pacts rather than just disappearing with no warning, but… Yes."

Heh.

"Another example for you. The last wolf in England was killed in Thirteen Ninety. Not because of the destruction of habitat, no. The people hunted them down and killed them with malice aforethought, because they realised that big pack predators were a threat to people and their farm animals. About thirty years later a giant pack of man eating wolves laid siege to Paris for three years, before invading the city and doing battle with the city guard, killing at least forty of them. A hundred years ago, during World War One, German and Russian soldiers had a truce so they could fight off the giant packs of man eating wolves that were attacking them."

"You know where doesn't have problems with packs of man eating wolves?"

He nods. "England."

"For now. We're reintroducing them. But the general rule is, deal with small problems early or they can grow. Deal with big problems hard or they'll ruin everything else. When we arrived on this parallel's Earth, Interceptor and two Amazos were right there in less than a minute. On our Earth something like that might not even get noticed. And that's after we had to deal with a time travelling invasion fleet."

"I guess-."

Behind us, Alan breathes a sigh of relief, the construct over his ring showing a orbital plot.

"Problem?"

"Oh, no." He dismisses the construct. "I was just checking what happened to that rock I threw at the planet in our first fight. They managed to redirect it. I was a little worried I might have to go back."

"And what I just said is something Alan would never say, and that's one of the reasons why I like him so much."

"Ah, thanks." Alan looks towards our next target. "Are they clustering up, or..?"

"Yes. Combined fleets in position to reinforce worlds we attack, with weak picket fleets around their worlds because they don't think we're going to perform ground strikes. A rational and pragmatic response which would cost them if any of their neighbours had the resolve to punish them for it."

I make eye contact with Jordan.

"Jordan."

"I'll talk to the local Lanterns when we're done here."

I nod. "Alan, you can make a zeta tube construct, right?"

"Yeah."

"That's probably an easier way to get everyone into position than picking them up and carrying them. I think…"

I create a construct of the local systems… Yes, a rocky planetoid in an uncolonised system in Dominion space.

"Here?"

Alan considers the image for a moment, then nods. "Looks like it'll do. And we can attack wherever the Dominators have been keeping people in the same way."

"Guess I'd better actually find them then."

But that's simple enough. Finding a Dominator who is interested in humans is impractical. Finding the desire sets normal to humans on the other hand is well within my abilities. Dominators -even Dominator civilians- just don't think in the same way as humans. If by some miracle the Dominion hasn't killed the majority of test subjects by now then I'll-.

There.

"Found them. Feels like a few hundred." I point to a planet on the construct map. "Well worth rescuing. There might be more somewhere else, but I'm hopeful that we can interrogate the staff or their database for more information."

"A few.. hundred?" Jordan's face falls. "But they took-."

"They didn't reach fourth place on my poop list by being nice people. I'll head back and set up the zeta transmitter on Earth. Signal me when you're ready."

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th October 2013
After Receiving The Bad News

"W-?" The human's confidence evaporates at Ratchet's sombre words. "Is there any way to get him out of the Well of All Sparks?"

"If there was, we would have already carried it out. Optimus transferred all of the sparks contained in the Allspark into the Matrix of Leadership in order to protect them from Unicron. Then he-." Ratchet blinks, his optics momentarily unfocusing. "The only way to return the sparks of every Cybertronian who had ever lived was to enter the Well physically."

Arcee glares at him, though not with quite as much passion as she usually summoned up.

"Why do you even care?"

"Quite aside from the fact that Optimus Prime was a good guy and his death leaves a huge leadership vacuum… I just managed to talk Shockwave into standing down."

Wheeljack -who'd rather been ignoring the new arrival once he realised it was someone he wasn't supposed to blow up- suddenly perks up.

"You found Shocker? Let me just go get my-."

"Into standing down, after I convinced him that the only reason he's been fighting this long is because of the mnemosurgery inflicted on him by the Autobot High Council."

Arcee makes a dismissive gesture with her right hand. "You are so full of sludge. No Autobot would-."

Ultra Magnus and Ratchet look slightly awkward.

"Would-." Arcee picks up on their discomfiture. "Ratchet?"

Ratchet inclines his head and takes a deep breath. "Though that sort of treatment wasn't something that Optimus would ever have sanctioned, his predecessor Sentinel Zeta Prime had… A very different attitude."

The human raises his eyebrows. "He organised the caste system which resulted in the enslavement of the majority of your species. He cut off peoples' hands and faces and rearranged their brains for peacefully disagreeing with him. He -more than anyone- was responsible for the war, and, yeah, I see the vehicons you've got around the place-"

One of the vehicons manning a console at the back of the room tries to look like it's not there.

"-but if you want to convince the majority of Decepticons to accept an armistice then you need to stop pretending that there was no fault on the Autobot side at the start of the war."

"If Shockwave wishes to speak with Optimus Prime, that isn't possible. If he wishes to participate in rebuilding Cybertron then we would… Accept him."

"… Okay, good, I assumed that you'd be willing to do that, but he'd also like to reverse the mnemosurgery so he can go back to being the good person he was before the war."

Arcee looks surprised. "Shockwave wants mnemosurgery?"

"He wants his original personality restored to how it was before Sentinel Prime made him what he is today. I thought that-. Since no one still functional knows mnemosurgery, the only thing I could think of that could restore him was… Well, Primus. And since Primus doesn't consciously interact with the physical universe all that much, I was hoping that Optimus Prime could sort something out."

Ratchet nods thoughtfully, his right hand rubbing his chin. "Before the war, Shockwave was an advocate of peaceful reform. And it would be a powerful sign to the surviving Decepticons that we were being truthful about our desire for peace if he was seen working with us."

Ultra Magnus nods. "But we can't do it. Prime's dead, and he took the Matrix of Leadership with him."

"Is there..?" The human looks up at the ceiling, perhaps looking for guidance in the stars. "Is there some way to make a new one? Or otherwise resurrect a dead Cybertronian?"

Ratchet shakes his head. "The first recorded bearer of the Matrix of Leadership is Prima Prime, the first being created by Primus. It may well be that it was created by Primus." He thinks for a moment. "We could.. disarm Shockwave and escort him to the Well of All Sparks. Primus might decide to restore him to his former self."

"None of the original thirteen had any sort of supernatural healing abilities? Or.. any of their artefacts? I know you didn't finish going through your list of relics hidden on Earth."

Ultra Magnus pulls out his hammer, considers it and then looks at Ratchet. "Can we use energon to restore power to the Forge of Solus Prime?"

"The Forge of Solus Prime doesn't run on energon. One of the few things we know about it is that it uses a miniature neutron star as its power source. And we have no idea how to replace it." Ratchet starts pacing. "It might be possible to power it using energon instead, but I also have no idea where to even begin with something like that. The fact of the matter is that many of the relics of the Thirteen are so advanced that they might as well be magic."

The human lowers his gaze to Ratchet, not looking particularly hopeful. "Do any transformers know magic?"

"No. Magic isn't real. There are just technologies too advanced for us to understand."

"Okay. Are there transformers who can reliably use technology you don't understand?"

Ratchet shakes his head again, continuing to pace. "If there are, they could be anywhere in the universe. I can think of only two places where there might be any records we could use, and both of them are out of our reach."

"And those are?"

"The first is Quintessa." The other Autobots wince. "The Quintessons had access to the Matrix of Leadership for hundreds of vorns. I find it unlikely that they wouldn't have studied it, if only to work out how to more effectively maintain their control."

The human shakes his head. "I don't think you're ready for Great War Two."

"I agree. The second is Vector Sigma. It is a database of incalculable value. Unfortunately, during our last attempt to access it, scraplets got in and ate part of the access console."

"Okay, but the database itself should still be there, right? If it's just a matter of repairing the damage I've got Shockwave to work with."

"There is also the matter of accessing it. Only a Prime or someone given access by a Prime can get in. And then whoever was accessing it would have to study the records while avoiding the attention of the surviving scraplets."

"Oh, no, that's easy." Ratchet looks unconvinced. "Just get some human scale glass gas sprayers and send human soldiers in to clear the place out." Ratchet's face falls slightly slack in astonishment. "Scraplets just ignore humans and glass gas only affects metal, so they wouldn't be in any danger."

"That… Is… True…"

"Honestly, using humans to clear this entire planet of scraplets isn't a terrible idea."

"Hey." Bulkhead focuses on the human. "Are you touting for work?"

"I could put together a group of dependable men with military experience willing to work away from home, if the money's right. Or you could just talk to Agent Fowler."

Ratchet nods. "That may well work. Even if it provides no useful information on restoring either Optimus Prime or Shockwave, having access to Vector Sigma's archives would allow us to regain untold amounts of lost information. But we still can't access it.. without…"

He exchanges a look with Arcee, while the human just frowns.

"Without what?"

Arcee shakes her head. "Without 'who'."

17th October 2013
17:13 GMT -7

Jackson Darby nervously regards the Decepticon-affiliated mercenary named Paul.

"I don't think I'm supposed to talk to you."

He turns and glances over his shoulder, to where a holomatter avatar on a bike waves an awkward greeting.

"That would depend on whether you ever want to see Arcee again."

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th October 2013
17:06 GMT -7

The roads of Jasper, Nevada, are familiar, almost comfortable, under her tires. She'd gotten used to it. Gotten used to Earth. When she visited Cybertron with Jack she could just tell herself that it didn't feel like home because it was such a mess, but if that was the case why did this dirt ball with its sun and one moon and Unicron lurking under the surface feel-?

"Arcee-."

"Just sit there and don't talk."

The-. Slipstream's partner, on her saddle.

"Arcee-."

"Sadie."

"We need to talk about one thing before we speak to Mister Darby."

"What is it?"

He takes a deep breath, which she knows is something humans do to draw attention to whatever they're about to say. She can't imagine-.

"In the human society that Mister Darby and I both grew up in, there's no precise age at which a person becomes an adult. Depending on what the subject is, it would generally be considered to be between sixteen and twenty one years old."

"Jack's seventeen."

"Yes. Which means that while I turned Miss Nakadai down flat when she asked about my implants-."

Her wheels lock. The-. The meatcepticon on her back locks his legs around her frame and his arms clasp Sadie's holomatter body as they slide along the road, wobbling from side to side.

"You're not giving Jack implants!"

"S-stabilise first-"

Her wheels unlock, and she manoeuvres to regain stability while slowing down because if he wants an argument she's doing in it robot mode!

"-please! And it's-. You can't tell me to do it or not."

"Oh can't I?"

"But you do need to decide what you're going to say when he asks you if he should get them or not."

"Okay, great. Are you done?"

"A-. Sadie, have you ever.. thought about what this whole thing has done to Jack's life?"

"He was never supposed to find out we were here. We protected the kids the-."

"I'm not criticising what you did. But given how much contact he's had with transformers and cybertronian technology… My guess is that Agent Fowler's superiors are going to want to recruit him. And that he's going to jump at the opportunity, because despite the danger he enjoyed the time he spent with you. And.. that's the only way he might get to see you again. And while Fowler has asked about using the implants to interact with MECH's technology, I… Think we both know which piece of cybertronian technology Jack wants to interface with."

Arcee pulls off the road, coming to a halt and deploying her kickstand.

Because… Yeah.

Cliffjumper was her partner, but they weren't… Pledging eternal friendship when you could die in the next fire fight seemed like it was tempting fate. And anything else-.

But now the war's over. None of Team-. Team Prime, were interested in that sort of ritual. At least, she hadn't noticed any of them showing that sort of interest. Unless Knockout's comment on her power-to-weight ratio was suppose to mean-.

"Why would he ask-?" No, that's stupid. The one human who's openly conjuxing just as hard as he can with a cybertronian, it's obvious why he's talking about it. What he's talking about.

"He'd ask because while he might be an adult for some legal purposes, he's not really sure about how you see your relationship and he's scared of alienating you. It'll probably come out as something like 'so, ah, those implants seem kinda useful. What do you think?'"

"He already said that."

"And what did you say?"

"I don't want to talk about it with you."

"Sadie, I'm trying to help. You can't absorb a lifetime of human culture in one year from three children and two adults. And.. I doubt that you'll want to talk to Slipstream about it."

"It's your fault I'm having to think about this."

His legs unclench from around her frame.

"I didn't have these implants when Slipstream and I started becoming close. They might have sped up the process, but-. Ah… I don't know Jack as well as you do, but I wouldn't assume that he wouldn't have been interested anyway. Of course I.. may have completely misread the situation. I just want to make sure that you have thought about it and that you've decided how you want to handle it."

"How would-?"

Why is she even asking this-?

"There are a few possibilities. You know that Earth is the rock accreted around the body of Unicron. It would make sense for a team to remain on Earth long term to monitor and study him. Since you don't need to be on Cybertron and you know people on Earth, you could volunteer yourself."

"Unicron's dead. His spark was destroyed."

A lie, but she doesn't want it to get around that the Autobots have Unicron's spark trapped in the Allspark's housing.

"That's… Do you know where Unicron came from?"

"No."

"Have you studied him in any detail?"

"No."

"So why are you assuming you got him? Or that you got all of him? And even if you did, it would still make sense to get inside and nuke his joints, or keep tabs on those creatures you found inside him." He sits back on her saddle slightly. "War's over, Arcee. Now you have to work out what you want to do with your life."

She doesn't like it, but he has a point. She was staying on Cybertron in case Knockout tried something, or Starscream or Shockwave or Airachnid came back. So she could fight them, because she doesn't know anything about building or science or leadership or… Not being at war. But if that's not going to happen… What did she even do before the War? Did Cybertron really have any use for Light Exploration Models now? And if it didn't…

"Slipstream mentioned that you used to be pink? Are..? Do you know what happened to Chromia?"

"I haven't heard that she died." She winces slightly at the memory. "When the Decepticons attacked Iacon we weren't exactly overburdened with spare parts. It doesn't take much glass gas to take an Autobot's plating off."

He nods.

"So I… Suppose that everyone's waiting to see who else survived. Getting Shockwave reverted will really help sell the whole 'the War's over' message. It won't be all that long until you know-. Know, one way or the other."

"Yeah."

"Have you decide what you're going to say-?"

She revs her engine, and he takes that as his cue to grip Sadie again.

"I'll think of something."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
11:40 GMT -5

Mister King winces quietly as Miss Linden tries to interface with the 'research' facility's central computer, the mid-level dominators who are on duty in the security office standing and staring into nothing.

"Take as long as you like, Suzi. I can do this all day."

"It's an alien plant, Henry. I control the Green. This is not Green."

"But you can-?"

"There's… More than one. I don't understand their… Their language."

"Black Orchid, now is not the time for bravado. If you can't do it, we move on-."

The mass of plant-computer undulates, small flowers and leaves growing on its exterior surface as Miss Linden breathes a sign of relief. And then wobbles unsteadily on her feet.

"Suzi?"

"I just had to convert my entire magic waveform from Green to… Whatever the hell this is. But it's done, it's working for us."

"Yeah, but-."

"I'll-" She winces, her skin turning from pale green to the grey-blue of the dominator's computer system, thick veins and oddly angular rhytidome appearing as her body adapts to its new alien spirituality. "-cope, just… Give me a minute."

"Not a problem."

Orange construct ropes extrude from my body and connect directly to the red spots on the middle of each dominator's forehead. While I could easily justify killing these people, I'm not exactly sure whether these are soldiers or regular tech support. The small red circles make it clear that they're not decision-makers, and with a member of the Green Lantern Corps watching it's probably best to limit collateral damage.

So long as they haven't directly involved themselves.

Their eyes flash orange as I realign their desires and… Ah, yes, though they do feel loyalty, it's more to the structures of their society than to any particular high caste dominator. Increase their desire to conform to an abstract moral code and make sure that they identify that with us…

"God… Damn." Mister King takes a step back, regarding me with a decidedly impressed air. "Has the Commander been holding out on us?"

"I doubt it. You can release them."

He nods, and the dominators come alert. They don't immediately look all around them as a human would, but instead remain in place, taking in how the part of the world they can perceive is different to what they thought it would be. The one closest to the computer takes in Miss Linden, but after a quick visual review opts to walk past her to take a closer look at the computer itself.

"That should not happen. It is functioning outside of accepted parameters."

"Necessary, I'm afraid."

The other dominators slowly turn to face us, the one with the slightly larger red blot opening his mouth in a sign of agreement.

"I understand. Have you bypassed the Exalted's overrides?"

Mr. King is looking a little better now that he's not having to dominate them. "Have we?"

Miss Linden is still looking decidedly peaky, but manages to nod. "I have an arrangement with every part of its programming. Every connection to every system. Every-."

She doubles over, vomiting hard enough to spray gastric juices across a nearby console! I scan, but I can't find anything in the air or in her body.

Mr. King walks closer-.

"Ohnono. I just-. It just showed me what they've been doing with-."

The lead dominator nod-smiles. "Yes, it is grotesque. I will be glad to take part in stopping it. What do you require?"

"What does this place have in the way of automated defences?"

"Automated bulkheads. That is all. All across the Dominion, we prefer dominators in control of devices where possible. Fixed defence guns are manned, patrols are frequent and carried out by living soldiers and the fleet above us is crewed by dominators."

"Where are the teleportation scramblers?"

"One is in here."

One of the other dominators raises his left hand. "I will deactivate that for you."

"There are two others: one is in the high caste research centre, and the other is in the planetary command centre. If you destroy the first then you will be able to teleport anywhere within the facility. Destroying the global one will remove all impediments."

Zeta radiation wasn't being blocked when we came in, but if they have a way to block it then there's no obvious reason why it would be somewhere else.

"Do they check that your scrambler is active?"

"Yes, but they do so via the computer network. Random checks by sample teleportation are only three times a year."

"Telepath detection systems?"

"That is passive, and integrated into the structure of the facility. You would have to tear the place apart first."

Mr. King grimaces for a moment. "That's going to hurt our coordination."

One of the other dominators reaches into a wall-mounted storage bin and pulls out a handful of headsets.

"If the mutations to the central processor have not deformed it too much, these headsets should allow you to communicate within the facility. If you control the processor, you should be able to instruct it to keep your words secure."

"Thank you."

Those go in subspace, and that's a fascinating example of Dominion technology that I'm going to be passing to Dox when I get home.

"Are all the humans the Dominion has here, or are there some somewhere else?"

The lead dominator clamps his mouth shut. A negative or nullification.

"I do not know. The high caste wouldn't feel it necessary to inform us about that. We are only told about the humans here."

"Why are these ones still alive?"

"Their powers are interesting enough to warrant continuous non-terminal studies. Some… Are still killed each year." His eyes flicker with genuine distress. "You will… Stop this?"

Mr. King nods. "That's why we're here."

"Good. Do so swiftly. Their state distresses me. I will help in any way I can."

I create a zeta tube construct, and Mr. King and I step towards it. Just before we pass through, he stops.

"When this is over, you're planning to go back to your universe, aren't you?"

"Yes, of course."

He nods, glancing back at the dominators. According to my ring, their body language indicates sadness and guilt and they're doing a dominator group hug. "Don't take this the wrong way, but that's probably for the best."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
11:46 GMT -5

"Mission… Complete, I guess."

Mr. King still looks a little unsure about things as we report back to Commander Scott.

"You guess?"

Mr. King shakes it off and draws himself up. "Sorry, sir. Security neutralised. Orchid is remaining behind to keep an eye on things. The security dominators have been… Ah, shown the error of their ways."

"They're dead."

"No, Orange Lantern rearranged their priorities. They're on our side now. Ah. Permanently."

"No, I can change them back when we leave."

Commander Scott frowns faintly. "Why?"

"Do you want to bring them back to Earth? You didn't say we were killing random functionaries, they aren't a threat and we don't want to keep them."

"I-." He glances across the room at Jordan. "Alright." He nods, and turns to the rest of the strike force, who are poring over the maps of the facility. "Form up, ladies and gentlemen! Hit them hard and hit them fast!"

I

move

to the prison's primary landing zone, railguns forming and firing as the dominator guards raise their weapons. The zeta tube construct forms off to my side as their bodies fall and-

Nyaagh! Nyaagh! Nyaagh! Nyaagh!

-the alarm starts to sound. An orange energy pulse from me disintegrates a fixed gun position, and a sonic blast from the newly emerged Victor Stone's gun arm vibrates apart the other gun that's in position to cover us.

A dull yellow force field deploys over the front of the entrance, which is fine as far as we're concerned. This team-.

Skyrocket shoots clear of the zeta tube and dives into the shield envelope!

Um.

It undulates and surges, clearly designed to respond lethally to anyone touching it. Her argo harness shimmers as the energy wave hits, shunting the energy to its buffers and then releasing it-.

The shield surges back, slamming into the exterior of the building and gouging chunks out of the armour as it overloads!

Mr. Stone looks my way for a moment, then shrugs as he advances on the entrance. "Guess we're being an active distraction, then."

Ms. Forrestal falls back as Mr. Rothstein jogs forwards and then accelerates, ramming into the front of the building with a colossal slam! Koriand'r flies into the air and begins launching starbolts at the more alert defence craft, supported a moment later by Mr. Stone and Mr. Tomas. I

move position

to the guard station outside one area of holding pens, orange beams-. Being blocked by their personal force field because they followed protocol when they heard the alarms crumblers and they're dead. Zeta tube and trigger the dominator communicator.

"Orange Lantern to Orchid. We're at the pens."

"Confirmed."

Cybernetically augmented soldiers begin storming out, deploying defensive force field protectors, barricades and heavy guns around the observation area. Through the transparent dome of the panopticon we can see the prisoners, wounded, sedated or just generally out of it. Around the side of the dome other dominator soldiers have a clear view of us though the dome blocks their shots. Though initially confused they begin forming up for an assault.

Then the first of the inhuman cyborgs deploys.

An odd construction that looks a bit like a small space station, its outer bands rotate as it orientates on the closest dominator assault team. Then-.

There there's a.. sort of explosion of blood, and I see that it's already completed a circuit of the chamber, a dull orange force field extending from its angular appendages.

Huh. Well, I can't deny the effectiveness of the thing.

It flashes back around, then hovers in front of the cyborgs' officer.

"I hunger for blood."

"You don't have to worry about that, Deni. Plenty more where that came from."

"More."

It floats upwards, peripheral spines whirring.

Ah, okay.

The platoon commander makes eye contact with me and nods as squads run up to secure the other entrances. "We've got this."

I nod

and enter the holding area

shock crowning a pair of dominator medical technicians who were crouching behind a dividing wall. They clearly were taking part, but from the small red circles on their foreheads I can safely deduce that they weren't the directing minds. If Commander Scott wants to kill them I'm not going to fight it, but I don't feel that it's necessary myself. I open a zeta tube and Dr. Tolon steps out, scimitar and book glowing with blue light. I take a moment to scan and try to catalogue the inmates. Yes, all… Metahumans.

Triumph and the local Power Girl come through next, along with Space Ranger. They'll protect Dr. Tolon from the dominators and if necessary from the prisoners as she heals them, because the dominators took villains as well and we can hardly rely on them to be rational about things.

I frown for a moment as Power Girl sets off my rune stone. I guess this is a parallel where the Atlantean origin is true?

"You set?"

She nods. "We've got this. Go."

I

move

to the fortified entrance to the high caste's section of the base, construct buzz saws slicing through the dominators standing guard on the outside of the fortified doors.

Nyaagh! Nyaagh! Nyaagh! Nyaagh!

I shoot out the alarms as I open the zeta tube, Commander Scott and Interceptor striding out.

"Ready?"

"I've been ready for fifteen years. Interceptor, get that door-."

The light vanishes and everything goes dark.

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
11:50 GMT -5

A moment passes, and my armour's computer tries to augment my vision which is something my rings should be doing.

Ring?

…

Oh dear.

"External. Commander, is your ring dead too?"

Infrared shows me a little bit more than visible light. Interceptor is surprisingly warm, and it looks like she's drawn a sidearm of some sort.

"The Commander's down."

Sonic is… Giving me a vague impression of my surroundings. Mapped onto what I could see before the darkness came it should be enough for me to navigate. But it's still getting interfered with.

"What is this?"

"Pass. Your powers down?"

"Yes. You?"

I try looking into her desire network and nothing happens. The honden-. No, can't feel it. My… No, my awareness of my own desires is still there, so it isn't interfering with my thought processes. I raise my power armour's arms… Yes, they're still working, as is the computer. Legs… Yes. Crumbler effect on the gauntlets?

I take a chunk out of the barricade-.

"What was that?"

"Checking the weapons in my arms."

"What have you got?"

"Matter disrupters in the gauntlets. I can punch things and they die."

"Range?"

"I've got a pistol on the inside of the armour."

"Medical?"

"My purple healing ray is in subspace."

"Shit. The Commander's pulse is weak, his breath is shallow and he's non-responsive. Any ideas?"

"Ah, if he's like my Alan Scott, his body is partially green light. If that's gone then he's probably back to being a normal ninety year old. Either we attack the high caste's bunker and hope this effect is coming from there, or we pull back and try and get out of the effect radius."

Let's… See. Manual armour controls…

"Internal. Open a channel to Blue Lantern."

He's got a multiphasic communicator, but is it working and is he paying attention to-

"Paul? What just happened?"

-it.

"Everything went dark. What does it look like from up there?"

"Like everything went dark. There's like a… A dome over the whole place. Do you need backup?"

"It's blocking superpowers. Local-you's down, don't know about the rest. My armour's still working so hopefully the cyborgs are alright. External. Interceptor, you're in charge?"

"The Heywood Corps are fine, though they can't see any better than we can. According to the map you showed us, there are four guard posts between here and them, and another five between there and the exit. Exfiltrating without powers is impractical."

"Internal. Map."

Uh. Yeah. If they can still aim any of those anti-air guns, my armour isn't tough enough to survive that level of attention.

"The Titans are affected too. They're disengaging, but Cyborg doesn't want to risk grabbing a dominator shuttle in case they get shot down the moment they leave the area being affected."

"External. Right. Are there any metahumans on the list who can do something like this? Eclipso? Shade?"

Because while my ring has adaptive search functions, my armour's database can only use search terms.

"Internal. Search 'shadow', 'darkness' and 'power nullifier'."

"No, none of them were recorded as having a power like this." I think she nods. "We attack. Breach the doors. I've got the Commander."

"External. Will do."

I trigger my armour's flight system and turn on the spot, then fly cautiously towards the doors. After a moment I bump into the force field, but a quick application of crumbler gauntlets fries the emitters with only a little damage to the outer layer of my armour.

"The dominators dropped their guns. Can you use them?"

"Wouldn't they be booby trapped?"

"It's unlikely. Booby trapping your guns gets your own soldiers killed when the enemy works out how to remote activate it."

I reach the doors and thrust my arms forwards, the material resisting only briefly as it gets crumbled.

"This one's not working."

"But they might use a genetic lock. Try coating your hands in their blood."

She moves Commander Scott to the side of the entrance way next to the doorway, then comes back and feels along the ground to try and find-. There she goes, one of the soldiers I cut in half.

"Is this-? Would gastric juices work?"

"I'm working off-" I move my arms to the side, trying to make enough room to move further in. My armour's not designed to be easy to walk around in. "-my knowledge of civilisations with a similar level of advancement, not specific-."

There's a flare of heat as she successfully fires it at the wall.

"Will this go through their armour?"

"If I remember correctly, two shots to the head will reliably disable them. Twice that to the chest if their force field is down, twice that again if it's at maximum."

"Damn it. That sounds weak."

"It's about priorities. Dominators fight for test subjects. And they can't leave their shields on full all the time without draining the batteries."

Ugh, I can't bend enough to get the bottom of the door, and my ringless flight control isn't precise enough. But I've got a big enough hole to step forward.

"No idea what caused this? Because even if the dominators have been researching metahumans, our rings-."

"Todd. It's Todd."