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

[Mr Zoat]

Back Door

6th July 2012
22:12 GMT +2

Mr. B'lanx looks out across the Bir Tawil desert.

"It does look a little like the surface of Mars. Though it feels a lot hotter."

"Is it a problem for you?"

His outline shifts as he assumes a humanoid shape and… Darkens his skin.

"No. Becoming a Black Martian makes-" I wince inwardly. "-this a good deal more comfortable."

"I thought the reason you didn't just go Green or Red was that other Martians could always tell."

"Ways of thinking… Parts of our core psychological identity, are transferred in the womb. But if we're changed enough by our experiences that we think in ways unlike the Whites back home… Why not become something else?"

"White pride?"

"You proved that there's no real difference between the colours. If that's true, why should I take pride in result of a coin toss?"

…

I need to get this guy off Earth, don't I?

"What did you think about Colu?"

"So much refined metal. I'd never seen so much in any one place before. And the animals were so… Tame. Constricted. On Mars the minds of the animals inside the rock are a constant presence wherever you go. In the one city I've ever lived in, anyway."

Yes, a bit of a shame about Colu's entire biosphere. Nothing was ever allowed to go entirely extinct, but the planet has absolutely no 'unregulated' wildlife. No forests or jungles outside of parks where everything is monitored and controlled. The Computer Tyrants were in the process of shutting a lot of them down, but the biological Coluans appear to like them.

"Do you miss them?"

"When you're working long shifts and banned from most public places of entertainment, you learn to make your own fun. Taming animals, training them… It was a fairly common pastime."

He gazes off towards the horizon for a few moments.

"Why are there no humans here?"

"The two neighbouring countries can't agree on who owns it. This is the part they both say that the other owns. Then Orange Lantern Manga Khan decided to build this trade post. We locked it down after he left and L.E.G.I.O.N. have been using it as an outpost. In the event of things working out differently on Mars I was planning on offering it to you."

"That doesn't explain why this area is so empty."

"Too hot, too dry, not enough natural resources. And no one wanted to pick a fight with me to break in during the gap between Khan leaving and L.E.G.I.O.N. arriving."

"Ah."

"So… As I said, you and your people are free to wander in the countries immediately abutting this territory, though you'll be expected to comply with local law. The L.E.G.I.O.N. fleet will be pulling out in a few weeks and your people will be able to travel with them then."

The Earth is… Recovering, from the Sheeda. We've regained satellite coverage and have a full accounting of the dead. More or less. I… Remember an age-of-sail style science fiction story where after a major civil war ravaged human space the most powerful worlds left were places that had been minor colonies when the war happened. That was because everywhere larger was smashed flat by mass drivers and then chain nuked just to make sure. The only places that weren't were the places no one could be bothered to attack.

Something not entirely unlike that is happening here, only it's the middle that was eliminated. Up and coming powers like Brazil-. Accalacan now, obviously, and India, were smashed. Large chunks of the population vanished, large pieces of infrastructure destroyed and government officials killed. India's.. actually undergoing an effective breakdown in central government, with minority Muslim and Sikh groups… Not pressing for independence so much as assuming it.

The top tier nations that could defend their populations somewhat effectively were least affected physically but were so dependent financially on global systems that aren't working now that they're having to engage in major… 'Restructuring'. Confidence in money is at an eighty year low, barter has re-emerged in a lot of places and unemployment has spiked.

The only real beneficiaries -other than the native tribes of South America, because even places outside of Accalacan are having to change their policies on that issue- are European farmers, who have found demand increasing both due to the difficulty in continuing imports and a new wave of government self-sufficiency initiatives. And even there, a lot of places have switched from tractors to horses due to the higher fuel costs, because the Sheeda were happy to target both oil wells and oil tankers.

Thank goodness for Atlantis. Otherwise I'd find myself using the phrase 'oceanic apocalypse' to describe what happened to our fish stocks.

"How do most humans feel about Martians?"

"About the same as how you feel about the Ungarans."

"The who?" … "Oh. But J'onn J'onzz has been on Earth for years?"

"Yes, but humans aren't usually telepathic. Only a very small percentage of our population has met him, and he usually adopts a human shape so they wouldn't necessarily know that they had."

"You don't have recording devices?"

"Yes, but picture and sound recordings are less immediate than telepathic records of sensory inputs. It's not as… Real. We have a lot of strange people flying around; one saying that he comes from Mars doesn't mean anything special."

"What about J'onn J'aarkn? Or M'gann M'orzz?"

"Mister J'aarkn was known to be an actor, and most people assume the rest is a special effect. M'gann hasn't been here all that long. And they both came here individually with great difficulty. A few thousand people all at once are a rather different prospect."

"Are they afraid of us?"

"No, it's not that. Imagine… You lived in an all White neighbourhood?"

"Yes."

"Now imagine if Prince J'emm walked down your street. He doesn't believe in Neapolitanism, but he looks a lot like the people who do and he could get you in a lot of trouble if he wanted to."

"Ah. I see."

"If you go for a walk, you'll be the first Martian virtually anyone you meet will have met. So make an effort to make a good impression."

"I will. And I think I will go for a flight now." He rises off the platform. "I'm not used to such freedom, and I doubt that I will have it as part of L.E.G.I.O.N."

"Probably not." I wave as he pulls away. "Have fun!"

"Is this how your days are usually spent?"

I look around as Lantern Gozzi approaches from the base's interior.

"Roughly. It's a very varied job. Are you staying on, or…" I hold out my right hand in a catching gesture. "Are you heading back to Amalak?"

"Do you have any plans to fight Vril Dox?"

"I don't. I would be astonished if Vril Dox the Second didn't. Why?"

"Part of why I stayed in Vega was to avoid him and his minions. If he were killed, I would have considerably more latitude in my movements."

"True. So do you want to head out with the fleet and find out what our Dox is planning before making a final decision?"

"Yes." She holds up her ring and stares at it for a moment. "I do."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Earth 534834

15th October 1992
08:59 GMT +8

"Yeah."

I flex my newly-reconstructed left shoulder as I take a moment to look around the blasted remains of the Mandarin's fortress.

"That… Yeah."

I don't really pay attention as I remove my ersatz personal lantern from subspace and tap the ring against it for the charge all of the charge mine minemine-!

I drop the lantern, the steel knocking a chip out of the stone as it clatters to the floor.

Too much. Much too much.

I drop to the floor, my environmental shield fritzing as fear overwhelms desire.

This isn't working.

I've been umming and ahing about whether getting training was a good idea. I know… That in the comics, Hal Jordan got training from Sinestro and Kilowog ended up as the go-to training instructor… But when I used the ring, it all seemed so instinctive that I thought… Okay, don't rush into anything stupid, but I wasn't sure that I needed actual training. Creating constructs wasn't a problem, flying wasn't a problem, and once I tracked down a lump of rock the ring told me it could use to recharge I thought it would be best to work on my own.

Then it was just a matter of picking a target.

Not something political. Not Genosha, which is keeping up appearances on the international stage at the moment. Magneto is apparently keeping his head down as well, which didn't leave that many international fugitives. Then I read an article on a painfully slow loading nineties internet page about Tony Stark's kidnapping, and the various internationally wanted criminals clustering around the man who captured him.

Perfect. How hard could it be to find a green-skinned man with a goatee?

Not hard, not hard at all. But the basic idea of sniping him in the head… It turns out that fighting veteran supervillains is a good deal harder than I'd assumed. And my own lack of.. control…

I walk over to where the Mandarin disappeared in mid air, along with several of his henchmen. A small amount of blood…

Huh. I didn't think I got through his defences, but…

I crouch down and-. I generate a construct hand and use it to pick up a neatly-severed green finger, ring still attached.

I should probably scan that and see if I can find out how to operate it, but I think I'm a little too overwrought at the moment to want to do something that difficult. I'll just stick it in a pouch for now.

Right. Training. I've got no idea what S.H.I.E.L.D. is like in this continuity and… I don't feel like going through an actual boot camp and then… Taking orders, killing people I don't have anything against or any of the other things that comes with being in the military. And that only leaves one obvious choice.

14th October 1992
19:12 GMT -5

"Heeello?"

I frown as I hold the construct phone to my right ear. I don't recognise the voice, but there were a lot of X-Men in the comics and I only know a tiny fraction.

"Is this the Xavier Institute?"

"I sure hope it is, because if it isn't, then I've broken into some rich guy's house."

"If the door was open then it's probably just 'trespass'. Um. I'd like to talk to someone about taking classes?"

"Oh? Ah, okay, sure. Let me just go find the Professor."

"Thank y-" There's a quiet thud as he puts the phone down on something. "-ou."

Right. Nineties. Phone handsets with wires. Hover wheelchairs… But phones with wires. I mean, we could probably have built… Some sort of ionic wind wheelchair in my home parallel's nineties, if you didn't mind powering it with overhead rails like a bumper car. Or a mini-hovercraft if you didn't mind the noise. But I've got no idea how Professor Xavier managed it.

"Good evening. I'm Professor Charles Xavier. Morph tells me that you're interested in receiving instruction."

"Yes. Ah, I… Thought that my control was pretty good, but…"

"You shouldn't worry. Many mutants whose powers have recently activated have difficulty in exercising precise control, particularly under stressful circumstances. May I ask how old you are?"

"Twenty nine."

"I see. And how long have you had your powers?"

"About a month. I've got the basic.. use.. down, but as you said, under stressful conditions I get a bit erratic. And since I fully intend to get into stressful situations, I think it's probably a good idea if I get training from someone who knows what they're doing rather than risk things getting out of hand."

"That's very wise. But a month ago? Most mutant powers activate in adolescence. Are you certain that you didn't manifest your abilities earlier, perhaps at a weaker level?"

Right. Ah, yes. I should probably.. be clear now. I'm not sure how he would respond to the idea of teaching someone who isn't a mutant. I remember that in the comics he was happy to take in Machine Man but I.. think I remember something about him rejecting Power Pack due to not being mutants.

"I don't actually have an x-gene."

"I'm.. sorry, I'm not sure that I follow."

"While there are a lot of people who get unusual abilities from an x-gene, there are plenty of people who have unusual abilities who get them from somewhere else. The obvious historical example being Steven Rogers, whose enhanced strength and endurance came from an injection."

"Well… Yes, I understand that unusual abilities can come from a variety of sources. But I'm afraid that my specialty is genetics and, specifically, the x-gene."

"I understand that. But really, what's the difference? How would you help a mutant with control issues?"

"I would.. study how their ability functioned…" I hear a quiet but amused exhalation. "Yes, I understand your point. I would have to at least start in the same place with anyone who manifested unusual abilities, and identifying for certain whether a person with special abilities had the x-gene or not would take months. But I do want you to understand that some issues experienced by mutants aren't comparable to people whose abilities come from other sources."

"Of course, you're the expert. When can I start?"

"Since you're an adult, there's no need to restrict you to the normal school calendar. And if you're having control issues it's probably best to start you sooner rather than later." I find myself nodding. "Are you still in England?"

"No, no. And I can afford to remain on-site full time. I'm available whenever you have an opening."

"How soon can you get here?"

"About eight seconds?"

"Ah. I should have asked-. No, perhaps it's better that you show me your abilities without having your preconceptions cloud my observations."

"That.. sounds sensible."

"We have a room available now. If you arrive this evening we can begin work tomorrow."

"Thank you, Professor. I'll see you-"

Move.

I appear in front of the mansion in a flash of orange, right arm raised to wave to Professor Xavier through his office window.

"-now."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Earth 534834

14th October 1992
20:27 GMT -5

Professor Xavier regards my cube construct curiously.

"Hmm."

He reaches out with his right hand and presses against it. The surface remains solid and the cube doesn't move. He exerts a little more force, testing its stability.

"How resilient are they?"

"As resilient as I want them to be. Which is the problem."

He withdraws his hand. "How so?"

"How strongly could you want an abstract three dimensional object of no particular value to exist?"

"I see. So you have to focus on that desire. And if you don't..?"

"It becomes very weak. Or fades away entirely. Fading away is also what happens if I feel anything other than avarice."

I nod at the increasingly translucent cube.

"See? Try again."

He gives it a shove, and after a moment's resistance the side he's pushing on gives way and his forearm pushes through to the middle of the cube, which then continues to decay around him. A moment later the orange light of the construct has faded away completely.

"Hm. And what else can you do with it?"

"I can fly. Just a.. matter of putting a barrier around my body and moving it. Armour-" I hold up my right hand as a construct gauntlet forms around it. "-is simple, because I don't want to get hurt. And when I want to hurt someone, a simple orange ray is easy enough to create. But control is still an issue."

He nods. "Yes, that's a problem with which I'm intimately familiar. If you want to do something it happens, without waiting for an actual decision about whether or not it's the right course of action."

"The inverse is true as well. For example-" I raise my left hand and fire a beam at him. He jerks in surprise, then relaxes as the barely visible beam patters lightly across his jacket. "-if I don't want to hurt someone, not a lot happens."

"Compared to some forms of energy projection, that's a useful safety measure."

"But it doesn't just apply to offensive constructs. If I'd like to.. rescue someone who I don't want to rescue, nothing happens."

"Are you speaking from experience?"

"Blacklash survived the fall, but when I tried to grab him I honestly believed that he wouldn't. An intellectual 'I'd rather he didn't die' isn't enough."

"How strong are your constructs when you are committed to something?"

"Nothing I've tested them against -including the Mandarin's ring blasts- has penetrated my defensive constructs. He was able to bypass them, but not directly breach them. Same with M.O.D.O.K.'s plasma guns and missiles."

He raises his eyebrows slightly.

"You've been keeping interesting company."

"I thought that testing my attacks in an isolated location on people listed as 'Wanted: Dead' was more sensible than trying them in a built up area with a civilian population. Since I.. had the option."

"It would have been more sensible to come here at the start."

I nod. "Yes. But given how intuitive the ring's functions are, I wasn't sure it was necessary. But it-. But it is. Clearly."

"Well, we have training facilities which you can use to improve your combat abilities. I'm sure that some of my other students will be happy to volunteer as sparring partners. Jean Grey is probably the best person to offer you help with the psychological aspects."

I nod.

"Thank you. Ah, obvious… I'd.. have thought it would go without saying, since I.. came here, but obviously I.. support mutant civil rights-"

He nods with a wry smile.

"-and I'm happy to assist your team in the field whenever you think that's appropriate. If you think it doesn't dilute the message to have someone who isn't a mutant along."

"My aim has always been to enable mutants and humans to live together in peace-."

"And, ah, you don't think phrasing it like that is a problem in itself? I mean, it sounds like you're defining mutants as something non-human, when… Actually, you're more similar to baseline modern humans than Neanderthals. Just… One signature gene that the rest of us don't have. That's less than.. blonde hair."

He frowns thoughtfully. "That's an interesting observation, though I think that given the range of physical-."

"Professor? Weren't sure-" Someone pushes his office door open. "-if you were gunna-" A woman-. That's Rogue, wearing a blue summer dress with matching opera gloves, walks in carrying a tray with a covered bowl and some cutlery on it. "-come on back down, so Jean…"

She stops as she registers me, and I stand because… That seems like the thing to do. It's funny; I've long thought that superhero code names were a bit.. silly, in a lot of cases. Supervillain ones even worse, when their identities were known. But since I got here I've kept running into people where I've got no idea what their actual name is. Case in point: I've got no idea what Rogue's actual name is, and she wasn't exactly a minor character.

"Good evening. And… Sorry, Professor. I.. didn't realise I was interrupting."

"That's quite alright. Thank you, Rogue, please put it on my desk. Orange Lantern will be joining us at the Institute."

"Well howdy. See you've already got the hang of the dress code." She smiles warmly at me. "Dinner's usually dress down."

Change.

A flash of orange and my armour is replaced by jeans and a jumper.

"I will bear that in mind." I extend my right hand. "Pleased to meet you."

She sets the tray down on the Professor's desk and then approaches me, carefully taking my hand and shaking it. This version must have acquired Ms Marvel's strength, then. That will be interesting to test my construct shields against.

"So what's your story, sugah?"

"My.. control needs work. Under stress I don't necessarily get the results I want."

"And what's your thang?"

"I can do anything I want, as long as it's orange and doesn't take more than about fifteen minutes." I hold out my right hand, manifesting a sword and then switching it to a gun and then… Something that isn't a weapon… A bouquet of flowers. And dismiss. "You?"

Her good humour rather vanishes. "When ah… Touch people, I kinda drain them. Their life, their strength."

"Ah." I nod sympathetically. "Well. Good news, then."

My right hand darts out and taps her on the left cheek.

Her eyes widen and she pulls back in the air!

"You crazy goose-brained-!"

I shrug, holding my right hand up so that I'm looking at her over the back of it.

"I don't touch things. See the orange glow?"

She hovers in the air, her panting breaths slowing as she takes a very careful look at my barely-visible environmental shield.

"It relays tactile sensation from me to you and you to me, but we didn't actually touch." I shrug. "You didn't drain me and.. probably won't from casual contact."

She lands, then nervously takes a step closer.

"Are you fer real?"

"I'm as real as everything else."

Her eyes flick from me to the Professor. Then she slowly pulls off her right glove and extends her hand to me. I gently take it in both of mine and hold it for a few moments.

"See? No problem."

"Ah, yeah. Ah'm seein', alright."

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th July 2012
12:14 GMT -5

Kon looks at the quietly hyperventilating M'gann with concern.

"Are..? You okay?"

"Yes! Why wouldn't I be? I'm just about to be the first White Martian to ever join the Manhunters."

Wallace frowns. "I thought you were.. kind of a Manhunter anyway."

M'gann just about gets her breathing under control now that she has something to distract her. "No, I was-. I am an auxiliary trainee. That's not the same thing."

Kon nods. "So if we went back to Mars, those guys wouldn't hassle you when you land the ship?"

"They-." M'gann looks at me for a moment, then returns her attention to him. "Probably not. What Paul.. did… Is going to change everything about the way Martian society works." … "Again."

"If it was fixed, I wouldn't have needed to break it."

Kon glance my way. "You know, Mom says more Amazons are starting to worship Eris because of you?"

"I didn't know that she says that, but it doesn't surprise me that it's happening. Anything I can do to help with the preparation for your investiture?"

M'gann shakes her head. "No, no, it's not complicated. I just stand there, talk to Commander K'arr and Prince J'emm for a few moments and then I'm a Manhunter."

Kaldur nods. "So the significance is in the symbolism."

"Mostly. I don't-. Talk to Red Martians a lot."

"Hey." Kon walks up to her and lays his hands on her shoulders. "Last year you fought a Martian who was made of fire. You can handle talking to one who's red."

"If it would help, you could turn yourself Red and we could throw things at you."

Her eyes widen in shock. "I can't turn myself Red! That would-!"

"From what Hkronmar said, it sounded like Karmang wouldn't have had a problem with it."

"Well-. He's-. Not-. Modern."

Kaldur nods. "The closest equivalent in Atlantean society to Karmang the Good is Ahri'ahn, the great sorcerer who designed the spells which allows Atlanteans to live in the ocean. He is generally referred to as the founder of our magic traditions."

M'gann frowns. "Do Purists say he's the reason why Atlanteans with fish body parts should be discriminated against?"

"No. Ahri'ahn's legacy is one of rationalism. Purism in the modern context is more a product of the concentration of 'pure' Atlanteans around centres of power than any ancient teaching."

"Venturia doesn't have a Purist movement. Their eelfolk have never suffered any level of discrimination."

"But citizens of other cities could only visit Venturia with an escort."

M'gann looks from Kaldur to me.

"Please don't start."

"Sorry." / "I apologise."

Wallace looks puzzled. "I thought J'emm was the guy who was trying to end racism in his city anyway. Why is meeting him scary?"

"Well… He wasn't so much ending discrimination as he was ending legal acceptance of some demonstrations of it. Like I said, I couldn't be a Manhunter until now. And… Well, how would you feel if the head of the FDA wanted to talk to you about your healing potions?"

"Ah… Relieved that someone was finally listening to us about them?" M'gann flatly stares at him. "Okay, yeah, I'd be kinda nervous, but not this nervous."

"The head of the FDA isn't also a church elder who never meets people from your neighbourhood."

"My church doesn't have elders, but.. okay." Wallace shrugs. "I don't think I have an equivalent. But it's only gunna be a couple of minutes and even if it goes badly, you're still on the team. Not that it will."

"Thanks, Wally." She checks the kitchen clock. "I'm sure that Prelate J'emm is a perfectly nice person, and that I'm worrying for nothing. But I'm worrying anyway."

Wallace frowns. "What exactly does Manhunter do for the Martian government?"

"Well, he mostly keeps an eye on Earth."

"Sensible."

"He sends reports back to Mars on Earth government, space exploration, anything that could affect Mars really. And he tries to get people on Mars interested in coming here. And that… Hasn't really worked."

Kon smirks. "J'aarkn seemed to like it."

"That wasn't really what he was going for."

"Are the thousands of Martians here now a success?"

"They all come from a city that didn't allow them access to Uncle J'onn's reports, so, no."

"They'd seen Mister J'aarkn's reports."

She rolls her eyes. "Martians and humans are quite a lot like each other in some ways. Did you..? Talk to him?"

"No, I haven't seen him since he left Earth. Though given how many Martians have viewed his memories I suspect that he's doing fine."

"W-wait." Wallace looks a little concerned. "That.. Martian adult film guy? That's how Martians-? I mean, that's their point of reference for Earth?"

I chuckle. "Yes, the planet of shapeshifting telepaths think that we're the kinky ones."

"Yeah, but… That's all they know about Earth culture. And Manhunter's more of a military attaché than a cultural one."

"I'll ask Mister B'lanx to put something together."

M'gann checks the clock again.

"Okay. I'm going to go." She stretches up to kiss Kon, then steps away and heads towards the hangar. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck!"

We watch her go, then Wallace turns to me.

"Hey Oh El, are you sticking around-?" My ring blinks. "I guess not."

"We are in a rather large war. Answer."

Dox's head appears.

"They're counter attacking. Return at once."

"Alright, I'll-." He vanishes. "I'll be with you shortly."

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th July 2012
17:19 GMT

"You rang, sir?"

Even really big space ships don't actually look all that impressive. In space, scales are wonky. The near-infinite blackness is so incredibly vast that any finite space within it cowers into insignificance. Dox's command ship isn't huge as spacecraft go. It's certainly far smaller than the Absolute Dominion; a battleship rather than a dreadnought. But unless you've got some pressing reason to have a power generation system that big, dreadnoughts generally aren't good value for money. Grayven does, Dox doesn't.

On the other hand, it's not exactly small. Far bigger than any Earth-built ocean vessel, and quite a bit more comfortable to live in. Among more primitive species it's generally considered a good thing to keep the mass down for easier acceleration, but once a species has artificial gravity they've generally got the ability to futz around with mass in such a way that it's a non-issue.

I suppose if we had a pressing reason to go really big we could just get Lantern Ranx to detach his recent additions and use him.

"Yes. Come aboard at once. I'll brief you myself."

"Do you have the shields working yet, or can I teleport?"

"Teleportation is acceptable."

It's a bit of a two-edged sword in our situation. Me popping up when he doesn't expect it undermines him, but me demonstrating the ability to do something that our enemies can't stop buoys up our side's confidence. The subtle implication that all of our Lanterns can learn to do what I can. And that's technically true. But… I don't know, maybe I need to select an acolyte for dedicated one to one tuition, because as far as I can tell none of our Lanterns has made any real progress in my direction.

I step out

and reappear inside Dox's ready room. Dox himself doesn't look up, continuing to scroll through reports so quickly that the writing is a blur to me even with my ring's translation feature. Brand might have been able to persuade him not to overload himself, but Dox can still safely take in information far more rapidly than just about anyone else. A moment later my view of the text stabilises, but is reduced to a baby-talk summary as my ring tries to compress the information while still keeping the outline.

I mentally tell it not to bother as I wait for Dox to acknowledge me.

"Colu."

"Liberated. Computer Tyrants erased, and control of the planet temporarily in the hands of the Green Lantern Corps pending transition back to Coluan control."

"The same people who allowed my father to take power in the first place."

"There's a rather short list of people who could stop your father, and the former Coluan government didn't contain any of them."

"If they can't do the job then they should just clone me again and put the clone in charge."

"Alas, people in positions of authority are seldom comfortable with confronting their limitations. Would you like to address them yourself?"

"No. They wouldn't respond well to my involvement. If we need their help in researching something you can just transport samples to them."

"Do you..? Have a problem with my recruitment of Lantern Gozzi?"

"No, why would I-?" His eyes flick up and the data flow stops. "You weren't planning on trying to.. set us.. up in a social-?"

"No. I wasn't. Though now you mention it, the research I've seen suggests that it's easier to learn certain types of social interaction from members of one's own species. If you're interested in achieving some sort of rapprochement with Colu, she's not a terrible place to start."

"Fortunately I'm not. The Martians?"

"At Manga Khan's base until the fleet returns. I can bring them here faster if we can spare the wizards to ward the ships..?"

"No. It would be useful, but it's more important to keep them working on the fleet here."

"What exactly have the Reach been up to?"

"Everything we expected." Without looking he presses a button and calls up some holographic images. "We've screened all of the major industrial worlds in our alliance for their brute force mind control efforts: chemical, telepathic and mechanical. Countering their more subtle social engineering efforts is more difficult. We've had anti-war demonstrations in a number of places, the slogans calling for everything from isolationism to peaceful engagement with the Reach. And other things besides."

"There will always be some idiots. Are we sure they're not largely home-grown? A war this big is something a government really needs to prepare people for."

"We have to deal with the allies we have as we have them."

"Are you working up to asking me to alter their desires?"

"Not at.. this stage. Local dissent can be dealt with by local authorities. I want you to check that they aren't being encouraged directly by the Reach."

I nod. "If they are?"

"We are at war with the Reach, and any Reach-associated individual in the territory controlled by a L.E.G.I.O.N. affiliate or other ally can be legally detained with no other justification. Or killed out of hand."

"Do you want them removed quietly or loudly?"

"Use your judgement. Whatever makes the largest impact." I nod. "We've also started seeing the expected increase in attacks by deniable assets, coupled with offers of Reach 'aid'."

I frown. "Everyone should have upgraded their defensive capacities past the point where that was an issue."

"Our partners have. The people on the outer edge of the periphery zone have not."

That's the problem with space. It's so gosh darn porous. We can put in place interdiction systems covering every system allied to us, but that still leaves over 99% of the zone that the Reach can fly things through without any difficulty. Even in their own territory the Reach can't stop much more than we can, that's how Darkstar teams insert themselves. In theory we could track outgoing ships and follow them to their destination, but we don't have unlimited ships and the Reach are very good at being sneaky.

Still, it's a lot of space for the Reach, too. And the governments of civilisations advanced enough to actually help the Reach aren't stupid; if a lot of the people exposed to the Reach suddenly change their behaviours most of them will notice that something is off.

"You've assigned other Lanterns to this?"

"Yes, but most Lanterns don't have your particular skills related to psychological analysis. We aren't responsible for everything our allies do. If their neighbours are picking fights on their own initiative due to local disputes, that's far less of a concern for us. If that happens, negotiate a treaty and make it clear that you will involve yourself if it is breached."

I nod. Coming in too strongly to protect member worlds will give them the idea that they can do what they like, which certainly isn't the case. It will also alienate other worlds and encourage them to look favourably on any Reach petitions they receive. On the other hand, we do need to be able to demonstrate that we'll have our allies' backs while the majority of their forces are fighting the Reach. And while their economies are dedicated to war-fighting.

Dox flicks an orange pulse to my ring.

"There's a list of known problem areas. Go where you need to and do what you need to. Dismissed."

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th July 2012
22:33 GMT +3

"…that I saw you talking to at lunch?"

Lex and I walk through the corridors of LexCorp's Kenya headquarters, heading towards a boardroom. With the threat of the Sheeda thoroughly eliminated we're converting the Earth Defence Force facilities here into an actual planetary strongpoint, rather than the 'kick me' sign it was before. That involves huge energy shield emplacements and rebuilding everything to far higher standards of resilience.

Lex visibly braces himself for the oncoming 'Grayven tiresomeness'.

"Her name is Veronica Cale. Her company is responsible for the EDF's health monitors and immunisation programs."

Armoured buildings… Obviously aren't going to survive against a dedicated bombardment platform, but that's not what they're for. They're for taking hits from attack craft, or hopeful shots from non-dedicated ships, or for soaking the backlash from our own overloading shield emitters. And of course they create a wonderful feeling of safety in the people taking shelter within them, so that if they do come under dedicated attack they don't spend their last few minutes cowering in fear.

"Lex, you were smiling."

We did talk about a full planetary defence shield like the one Euphorix has, but not only does something like that prevent you seeing out -so you can't know whether the attacker is still there or not- but it requires base stations all over the planet. We could… Just about do it by hiding them in LexCorp regional headquarters, but the risk of exposure was too great.

"She's a charming and.. extremely driven woman. She reminds me a great deal of myself."

I smile. "Admiration."

"Yes, I suppose you could put it like that."

"No, No, I mean… The Devil's Dictionary? 'Admiration. Noun. Our polite recognition of another's resemblance to ourselves.'" I glance his way as the door to the lounge opens itself. "Let me guess: grew up in a poor neighbourhood-."

"Yes, there is a.. degree of resemblance. But she appears to have avoided making some of my more… Short term decisions."

"Good to know. Sounds like she'll be an-." Lex walks through the doorway, and since this place was built with my frame in mind -mine and the larger suits of power armour, anyway- I can follow.. him… Through.

I look at the other Lex Luthor sitting on the seat facing the doorway. Then I scan both the newcomer and mine.

And then I grin.

"Lex! It's not my birthday!"

The other Lex -who had been doing his version of Lex's 'calm, confident and in control' look- shudders very slightly, which lets me scan through whatever he was using to block me. Hm.

"Not that I'm complaining-."

My Lex decides to ignore me, walking forward confidently as our Mercy -quick check, yes, she's ours- makes sure that her hands are free.

"Who are you, and why are you here?"

"The 'who' should be obvious-."

Hm. "Heart's on the left not the right. DNA's a close match, so I'm guessing you're an equivalent and not a literal doppelgänger."

I traverse the room, keeping my eyes on the intruder and making sure that my Lex is out of my line of fire and calling in a cross-section of drones.

My Lex nods. "I'm told that most of my alter egos aren't… The most rational people."

The other Lex nods. "Sadly, that's been my experience. Imagine my… Concern, when I found out that you were building a space fleet, and were working in alliance with an Apokoliptian."

I nod. "Yes, that does sound pretty dodgy." I widen my eyes, my grin broadening. "Wait. Are you from some sort of transplanar 'Council of Lex'? And am I going to have to shoot that woman in the stealth suit who thinks I can't see her?"

The Other Lex's face tenses very slightly as a drone shines its Ray of Revelation -thank you Sunset- at his surprised backup.

"No, you're.. not."

Ah, there it is. An environmental shield. Yellow… No, gold in colour. Same base technology, but… Not standard? Sinestro?

The closest things I know of are the Anti-Green Lantern rings briefly used by the Weaponers of Qward. That line of research was discontinued in my own universe. Things may have been different wherever he's from.

My Lex glances at his alternate's backup, shrugs, then walks forward to sit down opposite him.

"What do you want?"

"To find out what you're planning."

My Lex waves his right hand. "I think I've been fairly open with what I'm planning."

The woman in the stealth suit… I can scan her now, but I don't recognise her. She makes her way around to behind the chair her Lex is sitting in. For my own amusement I move to mirror her position behind-. I try to mirror her position, but Mercy is already occupying it. Looks like looming in the background is it, then.

"I doubt that you'd trust anything I was open about any more than I'm inclined to trust what you're open about. I know about the fleet you're building up on the far side of the moon."

Ping.

Ah.

"And I've just spotted your ship. Isn't it nice that we can all see each other."

I continue grinning, but I'm nervous. A ship snuck into my system and I didn't find it until after it got into a bombardment position. Alright, if he had access to Qwardian technology that's not outright embarrassing, but we need to do better. I think we'll have to bring up the system-wide sensor network thing with the Security Council, even if we have to share the results. Or just do it anyway and take the hit to our relations if they ever find out.

My Lex holds up his right hand. "Perhaps a less… Adversarial tone could be more helpful. I have publically announced that I'm undertaking the construction of a self-defense fleet. While I have taken steps to ensure that various governments believe that the total number I have under construction is far less than the actual number, their purpose hasn't changed."

"Let's just say that when most versions of us lay their hands on a fleet of warships, they tend to take regrettable actions with them."

"And.. a year ago you may have been correct about me as well. But I've made enough progress, and… Frankly, gained enough personal renown, that the failures of the world's governments don't grate in quite the way it might once have done."

I nod. "And, you know, once you own all the media companies, they throw in the governments for free."

My Lex shakes his head. "If that were true then I'd have bought out my rivals years ago. It would be more accurate to say that they're a loyalty bonus that grows each decade. But if we may leave such cynicism aside..?"

I shrug, and he returns his focus to his alter ego.

"Since you already know that the fleet exists, why not take a formal tour? You can talk to my employees, contractors and other affiliates and find out why they're working with me. A good many of them have no particular love for me personally, but they're doing it because they believe that it's necessary for the good of the species. Or to further their own ends."

Other Lex nods slowly.

"That would help to reassure me."

"But I doubt that you came all the way from a parallel universe just to check up on me. What is it that you want?"

"You've had contact with parallel universes. I'm… Having difficulty in returning to my point of origin."

My Lex nods. "I'll be happy to provide you with whatever assistance I can. Would you like to take a tour now?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th July 2012
22:32 GMT

"What people do is what they do. What people say they'll do isn't what they do."

Lantern Gozzi looks around at the space-age city we're flying through, noting the stares we're attracting.

"That's a tautology."

"I'm building up to an important lesson in your education as an Orange Lantern. Please hold your questions until the end." She glances my way but doesn't otherwise comment. "The goals people follow are their goals. The goals they say they have aren't their goals."

I pause, and she nods.

"A fairly disturbing example of that last one was the actions of Nazi Germany towards the end of Earth's Second World War. Rather than put all of their effort into fighting their enemies, they instead stepped up the extermination campaigns they were conducting against minority groups in their own territory. They diverted more effort towards something that was a net drain on their economy, rather than put it into fighting."

"There are other examples: people who say they want peace, compromise and coexistence but when pushed will admit to only wanting those things on their terms. So what they actually want is victory, supremacy and dominion but they don't say that because they've been taught that the other things are good and that those they actually want aren't. You can make people pull some quite amusing faces if you bring them to awareness of their own cognitive dissonance on some issues."

"As an Orange Lantern, this is something you must be aware of in yourself. An Orange Lantern's ability to use their ring is dependent on understanding and working towards the realisation of your desires. And since as a Coluan I imagine that you're going to want to use more sophisticated constructs than the rest of us, that's doubly true for you. You'd be surprised how many Orange Lanterns get stuck on the first step and are remarkably weak until they actually get into combat and start being driven by a need to preserve their own lives."

"I will try to avoid that."

"Ego's another problem. One of my core functions in the Corps is to advise Lanterns on how to overcome their psychological limitations. And yet, only a few people have actually come to me for advice. Most of the time I've had to actually go to people myself, which… Rather undermines the whole process."

"But getting back to my original point: if the stand we're taking against the Reach is a righteous and noble struggle because they exterminate conquered people, we ourselves cannot exterminate people we conquer. If the stand we're taking against the Reach is a righteous and noble struggle because we don't mind control people, we ourselves cannot mind control people. Ah, outside of combat, anyway. And if the stand we're taking against the Reach is a righteous and noble struggle because we value individual freedom, liberty, and the right of people to be involved in their own governance… We can't just go around quashing protests because they're inconvenient."

…

"May I now-?"

"Yes."

"You appear to be entirely rejecting the idea that anything other than complete honesty is useful."

"More or less."

"That runs contrary to my experiences. In many situations, Amalak told people that he wanted one thing when he actually wanted another in order to gain an advantage in negotiations."

"Was his most powerful weapon an orange power ring, whose output was dependent on the extent to which it enabled him to realise his desires?"

"We prefer positron beams for anti-ship work."

"Are you telling me that if I offered to trade Amalak rings for ships on a one-for-one basis-?"

"He would refuse, as he could not control other power ring wielders in the way he can control people who use the ships he owns."

"And where would I be, if I'd done the same thing?"

"You.. would not be the Illustres of an Orange Lantern Corps."

"Just so."

We near the target address and I descend to street level, Lantern Gozzi a few metres behind.

"There are an almost infinite number of approaches a person can take to almost anything. But if you've taken up an orange power ring, you have to proceed in a particular way or you cripple yourself."

"You're certain?"

"I am until a Lantern with abilities superior to mine comes along."

She lands beside me.

"And we are here because you wish to give these people the opportunity to explain themselves."

We're attracting a degree of wary interest from the local pedestrians. The local humanoids have red-brown skin and cream coloured horns projecting forward from the sides of their skulls. Though this planet is a little more cosmopolitan than the makeup of this particular street suggests, this area isn't one off-worlders generally live in.

"No. They don't need to justify themselves to me. I want the opportunity to discuss the subject with them. To see if I can allay their concerns. Not because I care about them at all-"

One of the nearby pedestrians frowns at me.

"-but because I care about the ideals that I hold. Because I want to be the sort of person who tries talking. Make sense?"

"And what if I told you that I only care about efficiency?"

"Then I'd ask why you were still in an organic body. Why you worked for Amalak rather than taking a position with a Crown Imperium noble family who could pay you better. Why you were speaking to me rather than using ring-based communication bursts, and so on and so on. And when you'd answered those questions to my satisfaction, I'd ask how the heck you were judging anything other than short term efficiency with any accuracy in such a complex situation."

"You may assume that I'm Coluan."

"You still need data you don't have. If anything, the fact that… You've read up on our first battle?" She nods. "Do you think you're more intelligent than Vril Dox the Second?"

"No. So you plant your standard and let others rally to you or not as they see fit."

"Pretty much. Though I'm happy to let other people fulfil any desires they may have which are not diametrically opposed to my own, because that's how I see the galactic community working best."

I turn in the direction of the building displaying the name 'Dynamist Functionalist Union Party'.

"So let's find out what they want, and how we can all get what we want."

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th July 2012
22:37 GMT

"Hello?"

Okay, so far I don't like how places away from Earth handle reception. The lobby of a major political party should have at least three people available to handle drop-ins during the working day, whereas here they have precisely none. Sure, I can still see where everyone is as this is a thaumically dead world and no one has any shielding, and Lantern Gozzi could find them with a ring scan, but where would they be if a local journalist turned up?

I've a good mind to have a word with their manager.

"Hello!?"

Lantern Gozzi's eyes flash orange.

"I think they may have misunderstood your intent."

That is quite a lot of yellow.

"If I go after them, do you think they'll be amenable to reason, or just panic more?"

She gives me a slightly puzzled look.

"Rings can load huge amounts of data to your brain if you want them to. I can do it, but as a Coluan you're much better able to cope with it than me. And as you have better social skills than Clarissi Dox…"

Her eyes are already flickering, so I wait for a decision.

"Raids on political groups are unusual, though not unheard of." She blinks, her eyes clearing. "I surmise that they're mostly concerned because we're aliens."

"That's simple enough to fix, then."

A wave of orange washes over my body, changing my outward appearance to match the locals. Horns are… Weird.

"They're almost certainly watching the internal feeds. They'll know that you're pretending."

"Instincts are not rational things. If they see a familiar face, then hopefully it won't matter what they know."

I walk over to the front desk and… There it is, activate the internal communications.

"Hello there! I understand that certain parties in residence here are concerned about your world's involvement in the war with the Reach, and I've come here to discuss those concerns with you to see if I can allay them. If you're not interested in having that conversation with me, then I'm perfectly happy to leave. You just need to tell me that's what you-"

"Ah."

"-want." I move away from the microphone. "What?"

"Political violence is unusual. However, the custom appears to be that meetings like this should take place at a neutral location. Going directly to someone's home or place of work appears to be a local taboo."

"'Don't drop litter' taboo, or 'don't shit in the street' taboo?"

"That's rather difficult to calibrate."

I turn the microphone back on.

"It's just been pointed out to me that coming here directly may have been in violation of local custom. I apologise. I was not aware of that. On my world, walking into the offices of a political opponent would be perfectly fine. If you'd rather have a discussion somewhere else, just let me know where and I'll go there at once. That… Will of course have to involve you actually communicating with me."

I look through the walls at the crowds heading for the evacuation points. There appears to be a good deal less yellow, though most of them are still leaving. Darn it. Note to self: always phone ahead.

And… Yeah, yeah, they appear to have designated the ritual sacrifice. With the danger of critical mission failure now abated I stop looking quite so closely. I don't think 'I can see into your soul' is something I want people who are already scared of me to know. Not right off the bat, anyway.

"Um, hello?"

"Hello. I'm still in the lobby. Have you picked an address?"

"I'll-. Ah. I'll come to you."

"I'll be waiting."

I turn off the microphone.

"Highest ranker on site, or most expendable office junior, do you think?"

"The local custom is to use junior managers for forlorn hopes. They get promoted if they survive."

"This is a forlorn hope? I just.. walked into a building. I didn't even break through any sort of security."

"I didn't claim that local custom made any sense."

"Good, because it doesn't-."

A local man wearing a shirt and sleeveless jumper nervously walks out of a corridor, raising two hands in what my rings tell me is a local deferential greeting.

"If you don't want people to walk in, just put a sign on the door."

"I'll.. pass that on."

"Thank you."

I walk towards him. Ring, local formal greeting is..? Stand just in front and touch your own horns..? Why-? Because you're demonstrating that you're not about to try and gore them, okay, that actually makes sense. So I do that and wait-. He just taps his points, which I suppose is probably the more 'street' way of doing it. Fine. I let go of mine, and he appears to have relaxed a little.

"So do you want to do this here..?"

"Since… You're here, we may as well. I didn't think that the br-. Ahh… The aliens had recruited any of us yet."

"We're recruiting from all over. Are you interested in a power ring yourself?"

"N… No. No, I'm not."

"Alright. So… What actually is dynamistic functionalism?"

He looks at me sceptically. "That's what you want to know?"

"If I don't know what you think you believe, how can I possibly attempt to find common ground?"

"Oh. You're not from home-. Ah, this planet, are you?"

"No, I'm not."

"Right." He grins, and slaps his cheeks. "Of course. you wouldn't-. Spacer, or an alien planet?"

"Another planet."

"Right, I didn't mean like-. Ah, I've just.. never had anyone directly ask me what dynamistic functionalism is, you know?"

"No I very literally don't."

"No! You don't! But if there's one thing we can do here it's explain what dynamistic functionalism is." He actually looks a little excited. A little too excited. "I suppose it starts about four hundred and eighty-. No. No no no, if you want to really understand it, you have to go back-. How good are you at history?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

Earth 534834

20th November 1992
11:13 GMT -5

I look at Jubilee mournfully. As mournfully as I can while covered in the blasted, chocolaty remains of the morning's work.

"I… I guess I used too much baking powder."

I blink, then raise my right hand to my eyes to wipe some of the… Ex-cake, off my face while my assistant gasps in shock… Then snorts in amusement.

"Oh, whaw. Are you okay?"

Because 'baking powder' obviously explains why the plate shattered and the icing went everywhere like I added gelignite rather than gelatine. Fortunately, the work surface took the worst of it and my environmental shield is still up, but exploding shards of pottery are no laughing matter.

"I'm caked in cake, Jubilee."

"What in tarnation-?"

Rogue flies into the kitchen at speed, double takes and lands unsteadily, staring wide-eyed at me.

I spread my arms apologetically. "I'm afraid that lunch may be somewhat delayed."

She smiles as she approaches, pulling off her right glove and using her exposed hand to scoop cake off my right cheek. She then… Inserts the middle three fingers into her mouth, making a loud… Sucking noi-.

"Ew! Gross!"

Jubilee pulls a face, then turns and double-times out of the kitchen as Rogue pulls out her fingers, her tongue following them-.

"Summat goin' on in here?"

Logan steps around the retreating Jubilee, sniffs, and looks both of us over as Rogue and I awkwardly step apart. Then he turns around, waving his right hand dismissively.

"Try not ta wreck the place. And maybe put a sock on the door next time."

He closes the door with a thump, thoroughly killing the mood.

Rogue and I… Avoid one another's eyes for a moment as I use the ring to clean up the blast zone. Rogue's… Been very… Tactile with me ever since I started training here, for… Obvious reasons. And she's a very attractive woman, and… That's a novel experience for me. But we don't actually know each other all that well, and… A certain existing member of the team has been making it clear that he's not at all happy with the way things have been developing. This is the furthest he's taken things, but if he's getting this petulant then I… Need to have a word with the man.

And I need to do it now, not after Rogue's finished licking her fingers clean.

As pleasant as that is to watch.

"As, ah… Appealing as that sounds, I need to go and have a word with Mister Le.. Beau."

Rogue sighs. "And why, ah'm sure ah can't imagine." She raises her eyebrows. "Am ah gunna need a hose for you boys?"

Ignoring the idea of a masculine wet t-shirt contest that suddenly appears in my mind, I shake my head.

"My word of honour that I will keep things-" A wave of orange removes the cake from me before turning into a construct rubbish bag and depositing it in the bin. "-civilised."

"Guess a fellah's gotta do what a fellah's gotta do."

I nod.

And neither of us mov-. Oh come on! I turn away, heading out through the kitchen's other door, out through one of the Manor's many side exits, around to the front-.

Mr LeBeau and I walk into each other.

The ring keeps me in place while he instinctively springs back, right hand going for his collapsible staff. It takes him a second to process who I am, and when he does his expression doesn't get any friendlier.

I smile. "Mister LeBeau. Just the man I wanted to speak to."

"Can't imagine I got much I wanna say to you."

"I'm sorry, but it's somewhat hard to parse the meaning of an exploding cake." He smirks. "And I'm sure that if I let it go you'd continue pranking me in a similarly juvenile fashion, so I thought that I'd give you the opportunity to air your grievance to my face like a civilised adult. Though I suppose you don't really need to since it's obvious what it is."

"Since you wanna do this civilized-like, it ain't too polite to chase after another man's girl."

"Leaving aside the uncomfortable implication that you could own another human being, and ignoring the fact that I've seen you hit on four other women since I've been here -one in the middle of a fire fight- I rather think that's her decision. And it's a very easy one, because I've got an advantage that you don't. I can touch her, and you can't."

His face hardens.

"Which just emphasises to me that you're not serious about her, and this reaction is the result of pure.. thwarted.. pride."

"Wouldn't mind seeing how you touch her without dat ring."

"Mister LeBeau, you live in a world of hover wheelchairs, man-portable plasma weapons and giant robots. And yet, not once have you attempted to acquire a device that would let you touch her. You simply threw 'charm' at her in the hope that she'd eventually… What, succumb and drain you to death?"

He frowns.

"How m'ah supposed to make something like dat, exactly?"

"From one of any number of high-tech research companies? Skin-tight force fields have any number of applications. You wouldn't even need to tell them what you planned on using it for. But since that hasn't occurred to you to do that… Fine. How about you and me go and visit Anthony Stark and see what he can come up with?"

He blinks, his surliness momentarily shocked into abeyance.

"You plannin' on helping me? Why?"

"Because it's one thing to win a race because you were the better man on the day, and quite another to win it because the other man didn't bother turning up on the day. If I don't help you, I get to spend the rest of my life wondering if Rogue's with me because I'm the best bet out of the handful of people she could be with. And I'd probably be fine with that, actually, but I'm trying to be the bigger man here."

He hesitates.

"Do you want to turn into Logan? Because this is how you turn into Logan."

The surliness returns, but not quite to the same intensity. Good, he at least recognises that there's a problem.

"Professor think Rogue can learn to control her power."

"Yes. Hopefully. Maybe. Eventually. Frankly, I think Professor Xavier is being too optimistic, but even he doesn't have any idea how long that could take. And you know she's motivated to learn. How long were you expecting her to put her life on hold for?"

He nods grudgingly.

"You know Stark?"

"Never met the man. But I've got what I think is a piece of alien technology I think he'll trade for his help. Make a decision, Mister LeBeau."

He nods, returning his collapsed staff to its sheath.

"You wanna give Rogue to me, be foolish not to accept."

"That's really not what I'm doing." I rise into the air. "The headquarters of Stark Enterprises is in New York. Can you make your own way, or do you need a lift?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

Earth 534834

20th November 1992
11:27 GMT -5

"…telling you, if you ain't got an appointment then I ain't letting you in."

Mr. LeBeau reaches into his coat.

"How's about-?"

I elbow him. "We commend you on doing your job so diligently. However, we believe that Iron Man has been looking for the owner of this-"

I take the ring out of subspace and slide it through the slot in the guard station.

"-for some time, and he may appreciate being told of its location."

"I can't just phone up Tony Stark and ask him to come down here!"

"No, but you can phone the head of security and say 'weird ring at the front gate'. And if he tells you to tell us to get lost…" I shrug. "We'll clear off and make an actual appointment."

The security guard looks into my eyes for a few moments, then sighs and reaches for the booth's phone.

"Alright, but if Iron Man throws you off the lot with a unibeam, don't blame me."

"Thank you, wouldn't dream of it."

I take a step back as he starts dialling, keeping a watchful eye on us both all the while.

Mr. LeBeau frowns at me.

"Why didn't you phone ahead?"

"I don't have his number. And I didn't exactly plan for you to blow up my cake this morning."

"…guy at the front gate. Says he wants Mister Stark or Iron Man. Got some weird rings-." He frowns, taking a closer look at me. "Ah, yeah? He's-." … "Right away, sir."

He drops the phone, turns, and dashes out of the booth, sprinting for the main building.

…

Oh. Oh, they think-. Shield!

Mr. LeBeau is already on his marks, staff extended as he watches for where the attack will come from. We both spot the plume of flame from the roof of the Stark Enterprises building at the same time. I respond by reorientating my shield and switching to my armoured costume while Mr. LeBeau steps into the cover of the guard booth.

"What you do to rile them up?"

"I think they just had a bit of a miscommunication-"

The plume of flame vanishes as the armour switches to a dive, heading directly towards us. It's-. Not Iron Man. Dark blue, grey and white. War Machine.

"-about who we are. You see, the original owner of that ring-" I send construct filaments through the opening in the guard screen and recover it. "-kidnapped Anthony Stark, gave him permanent spinal injuries and used him for slave labour before he escaped."

"So when they ask, I didn't come here with you."

A wave of hot air washes over us as War Machine brakes, switching to an upright position as he points his arm-mounted weapons at me.

"Drop your weapons."

I gamely raise my hands. "Strictly speaking, I'm not carrying any weapons."

"Sure doesn't looks like that to me."

"A shield is generally considered armour. May I draw your attention to the fact that I'm not green?"

"If you're not working for the Mandarin, where did you get that ring?"

I take the finger out of subspace and throw it at him. He actually catches it rather than dodging or shooting, bringing his right hand up to his faceplate to get a closer look.

"The heck is-?"

…

"Is this what I think it is?"

"If you think it's the Mandarin's finger, yes. That's how I got the ring."

"And the Mandarin?"

"Got away, down a finger and a-" I hold the ring up. "-ring. Otherwise I'd have said something before now. Do you think you can..? Lower your guns now?"

He hesitates for a moment, then lowers his arms and descends to the ground.

"You want something?"

"A friend of mine needs a piece of equipment that I'm hoping that Stark Enterprises can develop. I wanted to offer Mister Stark this ring in exchange."

"And what does your friend hiding behind the booth want?"

I roll my eyes. "A kick up the arse, probably. Miste-. Gambit?"

Staff folded away but hands concealed, Mr. LeBeau steps back into view.

"Gambit?"

I roll my eyes. "Yes, War Machine?"

"Question.. withdrawn."

"Hey, don't feel bad." Mr. LeBeau nods his head in my direction. "This guy picked 'Orange Lantern'."

"On Maltus, the lantern is the symbol of law enforcement, while the colour refers to-. Never mind. Has Mister Stark agreed to meet us?"

"Yeah, he'll meet you. His office is on the top floor. You want a lift?"

"I can fly. Gambit?"

He shrugs, which is sufficiently unhelpful that I just stick orange greaves around his legs and carry him with us. He schools his expression almost immediately and flashes me a decidedly put-out look as we land on the roof. Mr. Stark appears to have seen us coming and is waiting for us, leaning on his walking stick. A briefcase… Probably containing a low-weight version of his power armour is propped up against the roof exit wall.

"So! You took the Mandarin's finger! Nice work. Want a job? I could always use two bodyguards."

"Not at present, but thank you for the offer. I'm trying to improve my skills before returning full-time to the field."

"Seems to me your skills are pretty good."

"'Pretty good' would have been getting the rest of him. Listen,-."

"I was listening. I get the Mandarin's ring, you get whatever it is your friend wants. So what does he want?"

"A friend of.. mine and Gambit's has a preternatural ability which causes her to drain the vitality out of any animal she touches. She can't turn it off. I was hoping that you'd be able to design some sort of skin tight force field that would deliver tactile feedback, because… As things stand, she can't touch people."

"Force fields aren't really my strong point, but I could look into it. And I know some people. Show me the ring?"

I float it over to him, and he snatches it out of my construct before examining it closely.

"Yeah, I recognize this. And you don't, clearly."

"I'm sorry?"

He looks at me like I'm a somewhat slow child.

"This is the impact beam ring. Your friend could probably make the sort of force field you want just by putting it on." He shrugs as my right palm meets my forehead. "I mean, I'll still take the commission if you want me to..?"

Mr. LeBeau raises his eyebrows.

"How long you had dat ring?"

"A.. while, but I didn't want to risk testing it in case it was dangerous to the user, or… Had some sort of security."

Mr. Stark shakes his head. "Not as far as I know. If the Mandarin knew how to make them, he'd have them on his toes as well. I think he found them somewhere else and took them. Which means…"

"No security, or he wouldn't have been able to."

I sigh.

"Right! Sorry to have wasted everyone's time. I'll be heading home now to give Rogue the good news."

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th July 2012
00:01 GMT

"…which is pretty much the state of things today."

…

I think… It would have been interesting, if he wasn't assuming that I knew a lot more about this world's history and culture than I do. That ignorance -even with my rings frantically dumping bits of social and historical information into my brain and giving me a headache- meant that I simply lacked the cultural context to understand most of the last two hours.

I suppose that a misleadingly named political party shouldn't surprise me. Before the last two hours happened, if I'd had to explain what I thought 'dynamistic functionalism' was, I'd probably have guessed something along the lines of Krypton's musical councils system. The Science Council oversees the scientists, but the extent of that oversight is controlled by a popular ballot, thus granting dynamism to a system arranged around function.

It turns out that the local version of dynamistic functionalism is neither functional nor particularly dynamic. At the intellectual end, they appear to be in favour of something a little like pre-World War Two American Technocratism, with a unified management group that comes from… Somewhere? I'm not sure where, because they appear to be fairly against people having input on areas of society outside of their personal experience. But from what I could pick out, their support base is generally amongst people who want a group installed that can fix the issue of the day quickly and that's it, while the majority of their civilisation is happy with a decentralised but slow system.

I think.

I can't tell whether Lantern Gozzi's eyes are glassy because she's been stupefied or because she's fact checking.

"Gosh, that was detailed. I'm very impressed that you were able to do a speech like that off the cuff."

"Thanks. It's nice-. I mean, Dad said I probably shouldn't just, you know, talk continuously like that, because…" He shrugs awkwardly. "Some people find it off-putting…"

"And in a social context he's probably right, but this is a business context and I do actually need to know-" -about four percent of- "-that. But that.. doesn't really tell me why you're against war with the Reach. Surely, if in the opinion of your military officers, whose function it relates to, the Reach are a threat to your civilisation, it shouldn't be a problem. I mean, do you have military experience?"

"No, but, that's not the point. As outsiders, we can't break alien civilisation up into parts in the way we can our own. We haven't lived their lives. Any analysis we could make would be hopelessly flawed. And none of our military leaders have tried."

"The Reach do have a bit of a habit of mind controlling people who try that sort of thing."

"Except again, we're forced to view those claims outside their cultural and species context. If the Maltusians are so concerned about mind control, why do they issue their elite forces like you with weapons whose secondary function is mind control? I don't know. I'm not Maltusian. Maybe it'd make more sense to me if I was a billion years old. But I'm not and never will be."

"So… Okay. Um. What… Do you want in relation to the Reach?"

"Nothing. If they actually attacked us that… That would be different. But we're attacking a society we can't understand in their own territory."

"Their own territory, which is significantly larger than it was… Say… A hundred years ago."

"They clearly have a very successful social paradigm."

…

Not untrue. But the important thing is that he genuinely believes this, and scans don't show any of the markers for Reach control mechanisms. And given his people's history, there appears to be a base of popular support for the local anti-war movement. Which means that this isn't my problem, it's the local government's problem. Probably best fixed by… Having them broadcast refugee interviews? I doubt that we'll convert the hardcore of political devotees, but if they go back to their historical…

I consider the building, and their recent levels of political support.

"Is this building new?"

"The building, no. We only moved in recently, though. We needed the extra space for all the extra coordination work we're doing. This is pretty much the anti-war headquarters for the whole planet! Which is… Why you coming here made-. Um. Put everyone on edge."

Ah, yes. That's a familiar tune. People joining up with one group in opposition to its obvious rival, whether or not they agree with or are even aware of its wider platform. But again, so far so humanoid normal.

"I don't really know how political funding works around here. Do your new members pay… Subscription fees?"

"Oh, members of deliberative bodies get money for staff in relation to their government work, but the movement is entirely donation-funded. All those records are publically available if you want to check them."

Ring, acquire their account data and identify discrepancies-.

How depressingly familiar.

"There do appear to be some… Donations, large ones, from non-local donors..?"

"Yeah, probably."

"I hope you can understand that it doesn't really… It's not really transparent if you don't know who-."

"Oh, it's probably the Reach."

I.. blink at that.

"You know that for a.. fact?"

"No, of course not. Taking direct donations from someone we're at war with is very illegal. But it's not like anyone can work out exactly the 'origin' of money that's passed through a lot of different hands. I mean, at what point do you stop, right? And our supporters -ones we can track- do make up most of our increased income. But lump sum donations when we became the leading anti-war party after our planetary government committed to L.E.G.I.O.N. membership? It wasn't hard to guess. And…"

For the first time since he started talking, he looks nervously in the direction of the main hiding place of most of his colleagues.

"'Guess'… I don't know or have any direct contact with any Reach person, so I could be wrong…"

I shake my head. "I'd probably assume that it's the Reach too. Both in your position and in my position. But can I.. assume that you're just interested in legal and peaceful political activism?"

"Of course."

"Then that's completely fine. And can I also assume that there won't be a problem with a representative of L.E.G.I.O.N. visiting… Well, arranging a meeting and discussing your complaints further at some point in the future?"

He takes a moment to look for a verbal trap.

"No..?"

"Excellent. It's been a pleasure to have met you. Please pass on my apologies to your colleagues for so disturbing them. We'll see ourselves out."

I turn around and lead-. Follow Lantern Gozzi out of the door. She leads the way to the far side of the street before stopping.

"I hope that your empathic abilities enabled you to get something out of that."

"His beliefs are genuine and natural. Looking around…" I unfocus my eyes as I try to apply empathic vision to the entire planetary population. Not precise, but… "I think their recent increase in support is as well. We'll need to trace that funding-."

"Already done."

"Then we'll pay the sources a visit, then follow up with the planetary government."

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th July 2012
00:27 GMT

This time, I called ahead.

"Yes, we handled that transaction."

The local woman opposite me shrugs. For a short sit-down meeting a local café suffices, apparently. This one has the advantage of being in the same building as her office. And a number of similar offices. Most of the tables around us are occupied by people engaged in similar activity, though the sound suppressors mean that I'd have to exert myself to eavesdrop on what they're saying.

"Our planet's rules on donations to politically active entities are intended to make it possible to trace anyone who makes a questionable donation. Of course, what it… Actually did was encourage the use of firms like mine to act as the 'end-donor' so that our name goes on the records and the… 'Indirect' donor avoids scrutiny."

"I'm a little surprised that you're being so open about it."

She taps the side of her right horn. A disinterested shrug.

"It's common knowledge. There are… Eighteen? Proposed modifications to the process progressing through our political system at the moment. Our legislative process is neither fast nor agile."

"So how did this planet become a L.E.G.I.O.N. affiliate so quickly?"

"That didn't require legislative change. The Proconsuls handle foreign relations with executive power, and by the time any of the legislation trying to cork their horns makes its way through the committee stage, the war will probably be over."

"It's probably going to be a long war."

"The meetings of department committees are open to the public. If you want to stop by one, you'll see what I mean."

"Can I request that you tell me who the original donor was?"

"Yes, but as my law firm is not a 'politically active entity' I don't have to tell you."

"Can I persuade you to tell me?"

"Hmmm. I'm not saying no, but I don't see how our planet's economy could survive you giving us the amount of money it would take. You've got the fines for breaking client confidentiality, and then there's the lost business relating to the fact that we broke client confidentiality, and then there's the impact on my career…"

"Are you working towards something or is that a long-winded 'no'?"

"It's a long-winded 'no'. But…" She slides a card across the table towards me. "Here are my direct contact details if you want to ask me anything else."

I pick it up and subspace it as she gets up.

"Thank you, but I'm afraid that the Orange Lantern Corps isn't currently interested in doing any counter-lobbying-."

"Anything." She reaches towards me with her right hand and lightly rubs my right horn with her forefinger. "Anything else."

She smiles, then struts away. Hm. I.. suppose this body must be fairly attractive by local standards.

Or maybe she's just-.

My original ring blinks.

"Yes?"

"Data acquired."

"And retroactively justified. Is it another clearing house law firm?"

"An investment corporation specialising in property transactions, on behalf of a trust."

"Okay, so-."

"Do you wish to give each party along the chain the option of being honest, or may we simply skip to the end?"

"We'll have to come back and test everyone…"

The waitresses at this café are… Staring at me. Huh.

That doesn't happen on Earth. That I've… Noticed. I mean, I… Don't go to cafés all that much..

"Everyone, but I suppose we need to prioritise. Where are we heading?"

"Second moon of the fourth planet."

I look… Down. "Got it. See you there."

A moment of disconnection

and then I appear. This moon is interesting. Unusually high metal content, and they've essentially decided to take it apart. It's now visibly non-spherical due to the huge quantities of material they've removed, and the extensive metallic hydrogen extraction systems processing material from the gas giant it orbits has made this the prime ship-building location in the system. An appreciable chunk of the ships in the docking cradles are L.E.G.I.O.N. export models, which…

I've had a big impact. Not just in blowing things up. Building things and enabling other people to build things as well.

Huh. Surprising how good that feels.

Lantern Gozzi appears next to me.

"Do you wish to speak with the garrison?"

"No. Not much point. I exist to back them up, and at worst we're going to be dealing with a few suborned locals and maybe a scarab. Got the address?"

"Can you not see them?"

"The programming they use for long term infiltrators isn't as obvious as that."

I take a look around anyway, just in case. A lot of people around here. The locals went tall rather than broad when they left their homeworld. There aren't many in other systems but they're spread out across all of the small rocky bodies in their home system. Probably why foreign relations is an executive function; until recently they haven't really needed to have any. Not seeing anything that strikes me as particularly Reachy. Self interest? Again, nothing monoptically destructive. Moderately self-destructive, but mining is a physically demanding career and it's not like regular intoxication is statistically unusual.

"I'm happy that I can be of use."

I turn to face her, smiling. "Really? Are you?"

"I.. think you may be reading too much into that statement. I intended it as social lubricant, not as a declaration of my life goal."

"You can just be honest around me. I'm not easily offended."

"Alright then. I think that you're being unproductively soft in the way you're conducting this investigation and that increased ruthlessness and haste would serve L.E.G.I.O.N. better."

I nod. "You could be right. Please lead the way, and we'll see what we see."

She accelerates in the direction of one of the supply centres, and I dutifully follow on behind her.

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th July 2012
00:33 GMT

"How would you feel about becoming my acolyte?"

Lantern Gozzi frowns at me as we watch the business premise of our target.

"In what sense? I will remind you that I haven't decided that I want to remain an Orange Lantern yet."

"I don't think you'd have come all this way if there was any doubt. Peace time administration not your thing?"

Her eyes narrow slightly. "You know."

"Maybe."

She looks away.

"I liked having the direct working relationship with Amalak that we had until now. It's been… Varied. Negotiations with governments and pirates, administration and combat. With Vega at peace and his organisation switching to policing… The work is becoming more simple while also requiring that the two of us spend less time working together."

"Are you romantically interested in him?"

"No. It simply… Suits my sense of place. And he's holding onto the hope that there's a surviving female of his own species that he could mate with. And you presume to offer what I had with Amalak."

"Something like that. I'd suggest talking to him about it directly-."

"He encouraged me. The various surviving Vega powers are quite eager to have a way to monitor you. Princess Koriand'r had seemed like the best choice, given your interactions to date."

"Princess Koriand'r is invested in Tamaran. The place needs her there."

"And Amalak doesn't need me?"

"You tell me."

She pauses for a moment.

"And what does being your acolyte involve?"

"I have abilities no other Orange Lantern possesses. You would study my techniques and ways of thinking with the aim of developing them yourself. I want to see if that's even possible without bonding with the Ophidian."

"You would provide me with all pertinent information?"

"I provide anyone who asks with all pertinent information. I'd be coaching you."

"And then?"

"You'll be an Orange Lantern with the ability to travel anywhere in the universe at any time. You can hang around me, move to Earth -which has a highly varied work environment- or travel from Lantern to Lantern helping them with their work as the mood takes you. Or just pursue your own projects."

"And fighting the Reach?"

"It's worth a ring to learn that others can develop the ability to do what I do. I'd like it if you stuck around, but you shouldn't consider yourself obliged to. And… Speaking from personal experience, how you feel about the idea now may not be how you feel about it afterwards."

"If we are successful."

"Yes. If. But it sounds like you were looking for an alternative to working for Amalak anyway."

"Perhaps we should continue with this mission. It will give me a better idea of what it would be like."

I nod. "Fair enough. Do you want to take the lead? I suspect that you've interrogated more people than I have."

She frowns. "How much experience do you have?"

"I got my ring about two years ago."

"Y-? A-?" She blinks, her eyes unfocused. "I had assumed that it took longer than that."

"It's been an interesting two years. Vega was comparatively uneventful compared to my homeworld."

"I will take the lead." She flies across the rocky wasteland towards the smelting plant, light construct armour enveloping her. "There should not be significant defences. Light infantry weapons at worst."

"Seems like a reasonable conclusion, and scans support it. Unfortunately-"

An energy beam bursts through the planet and hits her in the chest!

"-the Reach can interfere-"

Another shot as Lantern Gozzi hurtles out of control through the air, her armour glitching as she tries to bring herself back under control. I lasso her and generate a plasma shield generator construct.

"-with ring scans. Fortunately, neural impacters aren't even-"

A scarab warrior flies out of the hole, oversized qwardian weapon on its hands. Horns, so a local boy/girl. Might still be possible to assimilate it, since it's not a Reachian. It fires again, the beam of energy striking my plasma field and achieving little. The weapon then -oh that's interesting- shifts shape into what looks like a rapid-fire-.

I deactivate the plasma screen and move as the qwa-bolts chew through the rock, converting everything within the blast radius to vapour and radiation! Shield and accelerate!

The drifts of exploding dust slow to a crawl.

And-. Qwa-matter weapons in the hands of aliens? That's Qwardian heresy! Ring, tell Lantern Kalmin!

Compliance.

And alert local government.

Compliance.

Empathic vision shows a definite spike in concern in the smelter plant, though that might just be a result of the explosions rather than an admission of guilt.

Speaking of explosions, I should probably do something about that.

I form two railgun constructs and load crumbler rounds, the second being destroyed by a qwa-bolt even as the first fires-. And the scarab warrior staggers slightly, its body-morphed point defence systems shooting my round so that all that hits it is the kinetic force.

Not a bad response. Top marks.

The scarab reacts to my attack, extending the armour from its arms to cover the gun as best it can. It's a little awkward; scarabs aren't designed to carry external weapons like this. But it will reduce the impact of kinetic attacks. And… Perhaps directly targeting a device storing qwa-matter isn't the best idea anyway.

I reform the destroyed railgun, orange light flowing into shape as the scarab warrior tries to bring its gun back on target fast enough to stop me. This model appears to be faster than others I've encountered. Not by enough though, as the second railgun joins the first in rapid-fire mode. The scarab is forced to morph stabilisers to prevent the repeated impacts knocking it around, and the shots are edging closer as the point defences can't quite keep up-.

A chunk of its left shoulder evaporates and the point defence laser mounted on it loses speed. And then my shots start hitting him, armour being erased from the chest and gun cowling. The scarab tries to repair it by shifting armour from the back, but Lantern Gozzi has already flanked it and fired directly at the parasite.

The scarab-matter disintegrates in a wave of orange, leaving us with a heavily injured local man.

Excellent.

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th July 2012
00:48 GMT

When I rip the door open, the Reach man remains sitting on the hidey-hole's only chair, arms folded on his lap.

"Good morning."

"That's interesting. We weren't sure if you could detect things through our sensor baffles."

No weapons, no suicide implants. Good show.

"It's rather hard to baffle everything. Power rings are the most adaptable tool in the universe."

"For now."

"I'm curious: why attack if you thought that we couldn't detect you?"

"You're a high value target."

And I have a clear fear-association in his mind. Not an overwhelming one, but he's painfully aware that I'm going to be able to do a great deal of damage to the Reach and that they don't have an efficient counter for me. Of course, internally he's couching that in terms of 'bearable damage' and 'no efficient counter yet', but with an expansionist empire that's how it works. They overcome, or they die.

Huh. The feeling I'm getting… Reminds me of one of Harry Turtledove's books. The best tank commander in the United States got sidelined by his own military until the Confederacy tried to assassinate him. When that happened, they were forced to recognise that he probably knew what he was talking about and promote him. Being recognised like this is kind of nice.

And unlike a random fifty year old American, I can survive their special attention.

"Thank you. But I'm still not convinced that it was worth taking that shot."

The Reach man looks dissatisfied.

"The scarab warrior acted in haste. If you hadn't destroyed it, I would ensure that its programming was updated."

Hm. Looks true. There are associations with disadvantageous decisions taken by others affecting him.

"And the qwardian technology?"

"The Reach is a mercantile empire. It's remarkable what can be found for sale in some places."

"Yeah. That was qwa-matter. I've been to Qward. I know how they treat that stuff."

"Be that as it may; I'm a social adaptation specialist, not a merchant or theologian."

"I'm just implying that with the mind control functions of an orange power ring, combined with the telepaths we have at our disposal, you might prefer to simply tell me rather than be exposed to those."

"On the contrary; the most I can do now is tie up your resources for just a little longer. And I hardly know anything truly critical."

"As you wish."

I generate a construct body cast around him and make him stand.

"You are now a prisoner of N.E.M.O. and in accordance with our agreement with the local government will be moved to an interrogation centre for debriefing prior to being sent to a long term place of imprisonment. Is there anyone you would like us to notify of your capture?"

"My immediate superior. They'll need to arrange a replacement."

"Certainly. If you could give us their name and probable location?"

"Ah, I see you have a sense of humour! I didn't know that the Orange Lantern Corps had recruited anyone local."

…

Because I still look like a local. Which means that he thinks that my ability level is perfectly normal for Orange Lanterns, because there's nothing outwardly linking me to the Illustres of the Orange Lantern Corps. Okay, I… Can't think of a use for that, but I'll mention it to Dox.

I wonder if Jade likes horns?

I inject the agent with Reach-appropriate tranquilisers, strap him to a gurney construct and walk out of the concealed room back into the main plant area.

The staff are lined up in an empty storage warehouse, management lighting up the area around them with the glowing orange sigils shining from their foreheads. Lantern Gozzi is having a chat with one while the rest stand in a neat row awaiting their turn. The rest of the staff are a little perturbed by this, but most people get a little nervous around the police and given the obvious physical evidence I doubt that there will be much negative publicity. Yes, they're noticing my captive now and… Alright, it makes sense that they're more afraid of us harming them, but no one who isn't here right now is going to look at this and say that the problem was with us.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. As you can see, your facility here has been the centre of the Reach's efforts to infiltrate and influence your society. I'm a bit annoyed about that, but we'll be leaving determining your level of responsibility to the local justice system. However, if any of you have anything you wish to unburden yourself of, please feel free to speak up now."

Heads tilt back slightly, a show of deference. But no one has anything to say. Fair enough. I wouldn't expect the foundry workers to know anything about their employer's link to the Reach and they certainly wouldn't have any control over it. In a place like this…

This moon doesn't have much of an atmosphere. Once you're in a factory it's like the-. Like the oil rigs used to be back on Earth. You work long hours for part of the year for excellent pay, then you have months off to enjoy it. There probably wouldn't be a way for them to notify anyone even if they wanted to. If-.

"…so right, Lantern Gozzi. I've got no idea what I was thinking."

I turn to face her and her puppets.

"Progress?"

"Stupidity and short-sightedness." Her eyes move to the ex-scarab, who I gave a quick shot from the purple healing ray before chaining up. "He's the owner. It is alleged that he was having trouble servicing his debts and sought to refinance."

"The Reach are merchants. I assume that you've narrowed down how they managed to infiltrate the local financial markets?"

She shakes her head. "They don't keep records. It's quite legitimate for local people to exchange currency for foreign goods or services without registering it, even in bulk."

"That's inconvenient. Perhaps we can recruit a local to do financial due diligence? It's not as if the Reach limit themselves to purely military aggression."

"I suggest working through the executive branch instead. Trade with foreign entities is covered by their remit."

"Or split the difference. They can probably find a sufficiently obsessive financial analyst." I nod. "Are you alright to finish up here while I handle that?"

She nods.

"This use of the ring is quite intuitive. What were the Maltusians who developed it planning to use it for?"

"You'd have to ask Krona. And that may be a little difficult."

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th July 2012
20:26 GMT -6

I push open the door only to be greeted by a pint glass shattering against the wall next to me. If I was a baseline human the glass shards might have been dangerous. As it is I just sigh and walk fully into the bar where the two young men I'm here to see are just finishing the fight.

The younger-looking of the two backs away from his last opponent, side-stepping a swung snooker cue -people actually fight with those?- before closing the distance and tripping his opponent into the snooker table, then taking advantage of their confusion to put them in a sleeper hold.

The older-looking one doesn't bother with anything so fancy, being happy to take a right hook to the face in exchange-

"That the best you got?"

-for a clear shot of his own. The first opponent staggers back, but the second tried to grab him from behind-

"Pussy."

-and gets his nose broken-

"Awgh!"

-for his trouble.

Older brother then turns and expertly punches him in the diaphragm, causing him to collapse into a wheezing, bleeding heap.

It's hard to kill someone by breaking their nose with the back of your head, but given what I think has happened here I probably shouldn't let them keep taking risks.

"Alright, fight over!"

"Yeah?" Bigger brother looks at me fiercely. "Says who?"

I fold my arms across my chest. "Says the federal agent arresting you."

"A-?" He shoots a glance at his brother, who rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "They started it."

I look around the liquor-slick broken glass encrusted and generally-seen-better-days taproom.

"Are you trying to say that you didn't cause any of this?"

"I didn't cause it! I mean, yeah, I bro-"

"Hank, stop talking."

"-ke-." He glances at his brother as the youth approaches me. "What? Why?"

"Because Dad told us we shouldn't volunteer information to the police, especially not without a lawyer present. I'm pretty sure you were there for that lecture." He walks closer to me, sensibly stopping out of apparent arm's reach. "Could I see your ID, officer?"

"Quite sensible." I reach into my pouch while the Atlantean illusion charm I'm wearing makes it look like I'm reaching into my coat. I take out the fancy badge the Department of Metahuman Affairs gave me -which I generally don't bother with, because it's not as if there are people in the United States who don't know who I am- and offer it to him.

He looks it over for a moment, then looks back up at me. If he's surprised then he's concealing it well.

"You don't look a lot like your picture, Agent."

"Agent?" Hank walks over a fallen foeman as he comes to stand alongside his brother. "Lemme see that."

He snatches it out of his brother's hands, prompting another eye roll and an affectionate sigh.

"Who-?" His eyes widen. "You stole-? Aw, man, you are in so much trouble when he gets hold of you."

I smile, then push my amulet slightly outside of the area it affects.

"I got this from the Atlantean city of Venturia. I use it to disguise my appearance. But it doesn't do anything to my voice. May I?"

I reach out with my right hand and pluck my ID wallet from his unresisting hand.

"Donny. Ah. You're up?"

Donald Hall nods. "That card said that you're a federal agent for the DMA. I don't think that anything that happened here falls under your purview."

"Master Hall, I've killed four Lords of Chaos, and I use a Lord of Order as a paperweight. Does-"

Henry grins. "N-ice."

"-that give you some idea why I might want to talk to you, and why just about anything you do falls under my purview?"

"Oh. So you know about that."

"That you're lousy with order magic of a sort that requires a Lord of Order to use it? Yes." Thank you, Sunset. "So when I come here for a chat with your sponsor, and walk into you smashing up a bar, I have concerns."

Henry elbows his brother in the back.

"Bust-ed."

"As I said, Master Hall, I've neutralised four times the number of Lords of Chaos, and I know the magic that empowers you as well."

"Dude, not in public!"

He looks around at the empty bar, the fire escape door rattling as the last of their opponents helps one of his friends out of the building.

"And this is why you're supposed to 'take it outside'. It stops the bar getting smashed up and prevents you getting barred. And it makes the charge sheet shorter."

"Hey, what about those guys!?"

"My people will pick them up once they've received medical attention. Now: your sponsors. Who are they?"

They look at each other, hesitating.

"Thing is…" Donald shrugs. "We don't exactly know."

I huff. "I thought you were the smart one."

"Hey!"

"Hank's got a perfectly good brain-"

"Thanks."

"-when he uses it as something other than a blunt instrument. There was a voice offering us a chance to get the people who tried to murder our Dad, and Hank said 'yes'."

"So did you!"

"I said 'yes' because you did."

"For future reference, when a voice offers you power during a difficult time in your life and doesn't specify a price, call an exorcist."

Henry's face pales, while Donald looks more curious.

"That can happen?"

"It's unusual, but yes, there are demons who can reach out like that. You don't know how to contact them?" Two heads shake. "Alright then, you lads have a choice. I can formally arrest you for assault and criminal damage and hand you over to the local police, then arrest you for undeclared contact with an otherworldly entity, or you can volunteer to pay for the damage here and volunteer to accompany me to some magician colleagues of mine so we can work out what whoever did this to you actually did."

Hank blinks. "You mean half the damage, right? Because those guys-."

"No. You have super powers. This means that you must show better judgement than random drunken yokels because when you mess up the damage is much worse."

Donald looks away for a moment. "Can I just phone our Dad real quick?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th July 2012
19:35 GMT -7

Henry grins confidently as Sunset wraps a runic armlet around his upper right arm.

"Hey. Where you been all my life?"

Sunset turns to repeat the process on Donald, causing Henry to miss her rolling her eyes but enabling his brother to see it very easily.

"Wilson."

"Ah. Is 'Wilson' your boyfriend?"

"It's what Grayven decided to call my planet. Too tight?"

Donald shakes his head. "No, that's fine. How is this going to work?"

"You said that your clothes vanish when you transform. These-" She taps the main rune array. "-are essentially… 'Magic homing beacons'. Or magic mass spectrometers. Whether they go with your clothes or stay where they are, they'll be exposed to enough of the magic involved that I should be able to build a summoning array to put us in direct contact with your sponsor."

Both brothers nod. I've checked their school reports, and Donald was telling the truth. Just as he's a perfectly capable fighter, his brother is a perfectly capable thinker. A preference for direct measures doesn't mean that he can't reason or understand long words.

"So you're an alien chick."

Even if he happens to prefer short ones.

"No, I'm an alien pony."

Henry looks surprised for a moment, then grins and nods.

"Hey babe, I'm down for-.

"I literally transformed into a human when I came through a magic mirror. I'm naturally an equine quadruped."

I raise my eyebrows. Given the effort she went through… "Hexruped."

"Hm?" She blinks. "Oh. Yes." She checks her work and then stands well back out of the containment circle. "I wonder why the wings don't carry over into this shape?"

"Humans don't naturally come with wings any more than they come with horns. Maybe if…" I frown. "Could you shift the end point to Thanagar? That might work."

"Only if Thanagar was mystically active." She makes momentary eye contact with Henry and Donald. "Are you both ready?"

"Sure." / "Yeah."

Sunset lowers rune-encrusted goggles over her eyes. "Then go ahead."

"Hawk!" / "Dove!"

I frown. "Do you actually need to shout-?

An aura like a child's drawing of fire envelops Henry, while a simple blue-white band passes over Donald. Their costumes begin to appear, then in both cases the arcane effect stops, reverses, then shifts to the armlet.

"Huh?" Henry holds his arm out and stares at it. "That never happened before."

I stare at the light. "Looks like someone's not stupid. Sunset?"

Sunset gestures, and the lights float out of the circle to hover just in front of her.

"Huh. It should be easy enough to connect something to this."

"Good." I step forward and grab one with each hand. "Speak, outsiders."

"That wasn't what I-!"

"Ping."

The lights flow along the tron lines of my armour and my awareness… Stretches outside of my physical form, outside of my corporeal surroundings. It's a little like what happens when I use my abilities as a New God, only more… Profane. I can still feel my body, still see through my eyes… It's like hearing your name in a noisy room, or smelling a sudden scent of shit in a garden.

I haven't gone anywhere. But I'm experiencing… A white sky dotted with black stars. A barren floating island of translucent pink crystal.

And them. A giant green dragon is actually a good deal more mundane than I was expecting for… Either a Lord of Order or a Lord of Chaos. And… Its weirdly out of place necklace. I… Suppose it's no stranger than a helmet or a cat.

And then I look again and I see a face shown in relief, edges picked out by flames burning from an unidentifiable source, and a feminine figure made of fragments of blue glass. That's more like it.

"I am Grayven. Who am I talking to?" "I am Conquest."

The dragon lands on the floating crystal island, bending down so that its muzzle is just above me.

"I am T'Charr, Lord of Chaos."

"I assume that you know what I've done to every other Lord of Chaos I've encountered."

"They won't be missed."

"Not by me, and that's really all I care about. What are you doing?"

The dragon rears up slightly, perhaps trying to give the necklace a better view. The Lord of Order, presumably. It shimmers with the same blue/white light that Donald was glowing with.

"We are demonstrating the effectiveness of a partnership between Order and Chaos. The two brothers have different temperaments, and yet they work best together. They cover one another's weaknesses and complement one another's strengths."

"And you're just giving them power. You have no plans to come to Earth yourselves."

T'Charr nods. "And our having this compact with them will prevent other Lords entering your realm, just as if we were present in person."

I nod. "And that's all you're doing? No plan to possess them and walk around in their bodies? No plan to found some sort of cult to boost your exposure?"

The necklace… Someone shakes a head it doesn't have. "No. That would defeat the object of the exercise."

"And if they piggyback on your power to become Lords themselves?"

The dragon smiles. "Then there will be four who have learned the value of cooperation and collaboration, rather than just two."

"Alright, fine. But if you're lying, I will kill you both."

I open my hands, and my awareness of whatever I just experienced fades as the magic flames in my hands shoot across the room and envelop its owners. A moment later their… Truly horrible costumes appear on their bodies.

Sunset looks at me curiously. "Grayven?"

"Just had a word with their-." I turn to the Hall brothers. "Your sponsors. I believe that we can work together. Though my warning about making pacts with eldritch creatures still stands."

Donald nods. "That's-."

"Work together?!" Henry grins, his face mask not covering his chin at all. "You mean..?"

"How would you lads like a job this summer?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th July 2012
02:12 GMT

Kalmin lifts his facemask out of the way and steps back, his face a rictus of hate.

"I didn't want to believe it. Even of a man like Varnathon. Selling qwa weapons to aliens."

"Yes." Hinon breathes in and then out again. "I'm concerned for slightly more practical reasons. Ship-scale qwa-matter weapons would be extremely difficult for our current fleet to deal with."

"Weaponer Kalmin? Do you think that Varnathon would share the technology?"

"At the moment I would believe anything of that man. But I don't believe that the other Weaponers would tolerate it. Or if they did, that the Thunderers would. Though…"

I frown. "What?"

"I haven't been in contact with other Weaponers for a long time. I cut myself off when the weak-willed fools left me alive rather than kill me after casting me down. It's… Varnathon… Might have turned enough of them… Weakened them."

"Or killed them."

"No. If he couldn't even kill me, I doubt that he'd assassinate Weaponers in good standing. They'd stand their ground and fight back."

"Or perhaps that's why he'd kill them. You weren't a threat to him. They are."

"Then he is an alien wearing q'ardajin skin." He moves his mask to cover his face. "I will deal with the matter myself."

"I can't in good conscience-"

Hinon squints at me.

"-let you return to Qward on your own."

"You want me to go back with more aliens?"

"Qwardians have always been able to hire mercenaries. Many peoples aided the Anti-Monitor, even if q'ardajin history describes your people as being paramount among them. I've never asked you to make qwa-energy weapons for us-."

"If you had, you'd be dead."

"I've never asked you to make qwa-matter weapons for us, and the Reach is my enemy. And I suspect that Controller Hinon would be far happier if I made the q'ardajin my enemy as well."

"To put it mildly."

"Varnathon is not q'ardajin. He is merely Qwardian. As are any who follow him." He presses a couple of tools into the recovered weapon and detaches what I hope is the qwa-matter reservoir. "But I will tolerate you accompanying me."

"Thank you, Kalmin. I'll finish my current mission and then return here."

"Mn."

He picks up an analytical tool and takes a closer look at his former colleagues' work. I turn away and walk towards the exit. Kalmin has done his level best to make it impossible for me to reach the Honden from here, and while I suspect that I could power through his defences if I put enough effort in I don't really want to damage his equipment like that.

"This is interesting."

Hinon drifts along beside me, looking thoughtful.

"In what way do you find it interesting?"

"A potential q'ardajin civil war. Under the First Weaponlords there was always enough group cohesion that such a conflict never happened. Successful leaders bore enough respect that they could give orders and simply assume that they would be obeyed. And they were. The attempts of this 'Varnathon' to change their civilisation might be just what we need to cause it to break apart completely."

"Is that desirable?"

"With willing servants of the Anti-Monitor? Yes, definitely. With any luck they'll be reduced below replacement levels and in a handful of generations we will be able to write their species off entirely."

"When was the last time Kalmin dest-?"

"Oh no you don't. I can follow your reasoning perfectly well, and I'll tell you now…"

She increases her height slightly and glares at me.

"I'll consider the q'ardajin salvageable when Kalmin renounces the Anti-Monitor."

"If that is your condition, then I accept. Anything else?"

"You'll do it too, won't you."

She rolls her eyes as I smile, reducing her height and turning away.

"I'd like to meet your new acolyte. In the event that you succeed it might be helpful to have a 'before' and 'after'."

"Certainly, Controller."

A heartbeat

and then I'm standing next to Lantern Gozzi, who is watching the L.E.G.I.O.N. military police unit lead away the people we captured and load them into a prisoner transport.

"Ready for the next stop?"

"As ready as I can be without knowing what it is."

I flick a mote of orange into her ring.

"Dox is happy for us to tackle these in any order. Since you expressed a preference for variety, I thought that we'd deal with the Leentniar privateers next. Unless you have another preference?"

"It has been too long since my last combat mission. For a while after I transferred to Amalak's headquarters staff I periodically accompanied field teams, but I stopped after I realised that my presence was an unnecessary distraction."

"And it had nothing to do with the increased percentage of pirate recruits?"

"On the contrary." We rise off the moon, heading towards the system's edge. "Those groups assumed that I was 'Amalak's woman', and were unfailingly polite."

"I don't have a lot of experience with alien cultures. Is that sort of thing common?"

"Not wanting to offend members of your employer's family? Yes, most successful species have instinctive familial and tribal bonding. Thus, most individuals work out that insulting the in-groups of those in power over you is a sub-optimal strategy. Why do you ask?"

"My girlfriend joined the Darkstars on my recommendation. She's perfectly qualified, but I.. thought at the time that Director Jeddigar was a bit quick to accept the idea. Nepotism is officially frowned upon on Earth, and Jade certainly wouldn't want to get a position she didn't earn."

"I don't have enough data on the individuals involved to make a conclusion. In general, I would suspect that if you haven't involved yourself actively in her placements and she's been there a while, that it is unlikely that her association with you has amounted to anything more than a tie breaker."

I nod.

"Most recent ambush site first?"

She nods, and space bends as we leave the system.

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th July 2012
02:27 GMT

In the vast expanse of space, even large ships are very small.

Small ships aren't all that much smaller, proportionally speaking. But wrecked civilian ships are… Depressing. Someone put a lot of work into building this at some point, and now it's just torn apart. I can see the cloud of ice crystals where the plumbing has been holed and exposed to the void, the ship's inner workings just as visible as the cargo hold and main drive. Bodies, too. Anyone close enough to the points of impact was fried or blasted apart, then exposed to vacuum. Anyone wanting to identify them would have to perform a genetic test. Further in, the bodies are more intact. They appear to have had enough time to seal their suits before the boarders shot them.

Oh. And it's just now occurring to me that I didn't check Krypton for bodies. And I'm not spiritually motivated this time; Amalak's situation has made me extremely aware of the necessity for preserving the genetic diversity of species that are nearing extinction.

"An interesting offensive use of spatial distortions. Not only does it bypass standard shield technologies but it also muddies their trail."

I settle for turning up my empathic vision and looking around-. There. It's not hard to find pirates. Privateers. Enemies.

"But you can track them anyway?"

"Certainly. The calculations aren't so complicated that I can't perform them. What I'm more curious about is how they stopped this ship in interstellar space."

I didn't pick up anything in the wreckage, but a ring can't show me things that aren't there.

"No clues?"

"I would guess that they were able to get ahead of their target and create a disruption which forced them to return to normal space. Ordinarily I would assume that they had advanced notification of their target's planned route, but the sheer volume of space would make a simple betrayal insufficient for their purposes." She shrugs. "It will be easier to interrogate them than to attempt to deduce it based on the available evidence."

I sigh, and she frowns curiously at me.

"You must have seen things like this before, surely."

"Have you ever seen an exploded planet?"

"No. Am I likely to?"

"Depends if you got to Rao or not."

"Rao? Krypton? I knew that it was destroyed, but I assumed that whatever did it was limited to the surface."

"No, the whole place went up. The core exploded, and huge amounts of the planet's mass got converted into radioactive crystal. It just.. occurred to me: I assumed that their records would have been completely destroyed, but it's not impossible that some record of Amalak's species survived. It's not likely, but I'll… Try and find time to check."

"I'm trying to calculate what could cause something like that. It would be very strange. And there's little point; the radiation would have destroyed any data storage unit on the planet that the explosion didn't."

"Unless they had a backup off the planet." I shrug. "It's not very likely, but there are only so many possibilities. How do you want to handle this?"

"Our best information is that the privateers aren't advanced enough to stop even one Lantern. I would surmise that the Reach intend to spread the war as widely as possible, since they have demonstrably failed to stop Lanterns by force."

"Logical enough. Though I think it's more that they've manoeuvred themselves into a corner."

"How so?"

"The Reach don't have allies. They have thralls, slaves and puppets. Who exactly could they get help from?"

"Qward."

"They can buy stuff from Qward. I could probably buy stuff from Emana, that doesn't make us allies."

"Our records on Qward make it clear that this behaviour is out of character for them. You encountered an elite qwardian warrior during the initial negotiations which led to the founding of L.E.G.I.O.N.. It may be that Varnathon has a genuine alliance in mind, and is prepared to take such a risk. He was after all prepared to leave Kalmin alive, which must have involved a certain amount of risk."

"Or he's planning to conquer the Reach from within." I shake my head. "If a Thunderer throws a qwa-bolt at my head you can say that you warned me."

"That doesn't sound productive. If they do, you'll already know. And I think I will take the lead. I'm concerned that my time away from the front line has dulled my reactions. A few years ago I wouldn't have been hit by that neural impacter. But… You saw him, didn't you?"

"I saw hostile intent. The gun was a surprise to me as well."

"And you didn't warn me?"

I shrug. "Your construct armour looked solid enough to me. Are you aware that you can set your ring to move you out of the way of an attack as soon as an attack is detected, without needing a conscious decision from you?"

"Yes, but I'm Coluan."

"You're a Coluan who got shot."

"I can think faster than any-. I can't think faster than a Maltusian AI, can I?"

"I would be surprised. And impressed."

"Follow me."

The stars ripple as she bends space, then she's gone. I give her a moment or two to arrive, then

appear

next to her.

There isn't a base so much as a larger ship with four smaller ones attached limpet style to its hull. Not that unusual a configuration; the larger ship is probably the only one with a faster than light drive, while the others are designed more for agility and sublight speed.

"Attention raiders. This is Lantern Gozzi of the Orange Lantern Corps. Surrender now. This is your only warning."

Construct armour and shield for me, but Lantern Gozzi appears to simply be masking her energy emissions instead. We're far enough away that that's a reasonable response; space is vast, and their guns don't look like the sort to be able to affect a wide enough area to hit us that way.

Ah, yeah, yeah, they're looking, and the generators on the parasite craft are increasing their output. Looks like they're going to try and fight…

I narrow my eyes and try to spot the familiar outline of Reach neural programming. No, but they're all reasonably committed. If the captain says fight, then a fight's going to happen. I might be able to repeat what I did last time and talk the rest of the crew into shooting their commander, but I'm content to let Lantern Gozzi handle this.

She handles it by surging forward, a construct breaching charge blasting a hole in the mother ship's hull to allow her access. I drift in that direction, using her ring to monitor her progress as she engages the crew directly, their weapons failing to penetrate her personal shield as her construct sidearm finds their vital organs. She's already made it to their bridge as I get on board, the few crew who were trying to attack her from behind throwing down their arms as they see me.

"Illustres. Bridge secure. But their database suggests that we may have another problem."

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th July 2012
02:32 GMT

I blink, breath hissing through my teeth.

"Ugh, they're doing a Batarian."

Lantern Gozzi frowns. "Batar-? Ah. No, the Batarian Hegemony were pursuing their own interests. The Leentniar would be more like the Harvesters from Independence Day, mixed with the Travellers from Stargate: Atlantis."

I smile outwardly. "Popular culture has conditioned me to believe that aliens shouldn't understand human pop-culture references. I suppose that power rings bypass that completely."

I don't smile inwardly. What do you do when your neighbour is expansionist, xenocidal and highly skilled at cultural manipulation? You pack up and move, because you can't stop them taking your worlds anyway. You make yourself useful, so that they won't feel the need to wipe you out on principle. You isolate yourselves, so that there's no avenue for their manipulation. And you make sure that you're prepared to move again, because the people behind you haven't stopped being expansionist, xenocidal and highly skilled at cultural manipulation.

You stop having contact with other people, and so stop seeing them as people. You can't build long term fixed structures yourself, and so you take them from the things you've unpeopled.

You don't want the Reach warping your culture, and so you do it for them.

"I don't suppose there's any chance that they kept deliberately misleading information on their computer, is there?"

"Given the level of security and the other layers of more readily accessible false information, it seems unlikely."

Because that means that it's migration time. The raids continue, but now their main fleet is going in to active mode. We don't have particularly good intelligence on them, because the Reach appears to have decided that letting them act as unofficial agent provocateurs is a perfectly viable method. But if they're going active now…

"Anything in there about why?"

"No. That doesn't appear to be how their culture works."

And no survivors amongst the Leentniar. The people who surrendered are local pirate groups they co-opted, in order to increase their plausible deniability. The Leentniar appear to have gone in for some sort of electromagnetic suicide implant, just to make sure that nothing in their brains was readable post-mortem.

Such a waste.

"Nothing about the location of the other raiders, but I suppose they're not our primary concern now."

We won't even need to retask a L.E.G.I.O.N. patrol fleet. I firmly intend to force the Leentniar to negotiate. They can turn their fleet around, they can hide…

Or they can stop existing.

"There are no records here of the fleet's current location. It is most likely-."

"They speak of them as if they are already dead, because that makes it less painful." She looks at me curiously. "Terry Pratchett. Not all cultural artefacts travel between parallel universes. They cut off external contacts with the majority of their people, but these people had external contacts. If they rejoined the community then they'd be a vector for cultural infection. Do they get actual commands from headquarters, or just bulletins?"

"Commands, but they're non-specific. General priorities."

"They unpeople themselves for the greater good. Selfless of them."

"Yes." She presses a button and shifts the display to a map of local space. "Based on the standing orders and assuming that the other raider ships are more or less comparable, I would estimate that there are seventy eight groups operating across this part of the Periphery."

A tiny fragment in three dimensions, until you remember what the scale is.

"Any idea where the main fleet is?"

A button press, and a number of worlds are highlighted.

"Based on their past behaviour and predicted route, these are their most likely targets. These are L.E.G.I.O.N. affiliates, while the rest are not."

"Your suggestion?"

"Leentniar ships are predicted to be weak against Lanterns, but would be utterly devastating if given a clear run at an inhabited world. We can't intercept them as we don't know their location. There are L.E.G.I.O.N. ships in the area, and they have communications gear that will put them in touch with us the moment an attack happens. You and I can take one of the other worlds each and notify all other N.E.M.O. assets once the attack starts."

"What sort of data did this ship have on local defences?"

"A reasonable summary."

"Anything to suggest that they have real time in-system monitoring?"

She takes a moment to review. "Not with any certainty."

"So do we think that these raiders provide intelligence information?"

"The computer storage centres on the raider convoy were annihilated."

"Personal data storage devices?"

"I didn't see any that were intact. But given the general piracy…" She calls up a manifest. "They did take personal computers, but there's no evidence that they were studying them in detail. They would be relatively easy to fence."

"Easy to send home for the analysts, too."

"Where are you going with this?"

"You and I can hide easier than fleets of ships. If we had a flotilla move away from the world they were defending to go after 'pirates', it might lure the Leentniar military in."

"If they knew it had left. I think that depends too much on things we don't know. Unless you do know them."

"I'm afraid not. And I didn't get a good enough look at their-" I glance down at the bodies of the bridge crew. "-mental networks to teleport to their fleet's location reliably."

Hm.

"Seventy eight groups, mostly single large ships and their parasites?"

"That would be my estimation. However, it's just a logical inference based upon the available data, not a true strategic analysis. If some ships have substantially better drives then it could be less. If some are engaging in legitimate work as well then it could be more."

Our rings shimmer for a moment as a L.E.G.I.O.N. patrol vessel arrives to take our prisoners on board. The ships will be studied and salvaged, but a thorough interrogation of the pirates is more likely to yield useful data in the short term.

"I assume there's no data on how they communicated with their superiors?" Lantern Gozzi shakes her head. "Then we'll go for your plan, pending the results of the interrogation. Do you have any preference on the planet?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th July 2012
06:35 GMT

I open my eyes, blinking at the light-. I'm in space, right. Ring?

Inbound communication. No movement of Leentniar ships detected.

Answer.

"Illustres. I have… An observation, regarding our situation."

I undo the clamps I used to anchor myself to a piece of rock floating through the system I'm keeping an eye on. I don't have any trouble sleeping in space, but I've yet to develop the skill of sleeping without some sort of surface. Plus, it helps mask my heat and light radiation.

"And what's that?"

"We have both assumed that the Leentniar would continue with their previously observed behaviour. But in this region the Reach have only expanded."

"As opposed to..?"

"Temporarily retreated. The Reach have known setbacks before. The Leentniar simply had the misfortune to be in a region where that hasn't happened."

"Alright."

"L.E.G.I.O.N. ships in this region recently enforced a member world's territorial claims against a Reach 'trade mission'. The Reach-affiliated ships were destroyed or fled."

"And that's the first time they could have seen that?"

"I… Can't say that for certain, but based on their known movement patterns it seems likely."

"So… What, you think they're heading home because they know that the Reach are beatable? That doesn't seem-."

"No, of course not. But it might prompt them to speak to the Reach directly."

"Directly?"

"We don't know how they view the Reach. But they are the only outside influence they allow to affect them."

"I see what you mean. The Reach define how their civilisation works. And we know that the Reach don't have any problem with using auxiliaries. But why would they bother?"

"Additional weaponry or other supplies. Perhaps some form of exotic transportation or an interdiction field bypass."

"To quote Tuvok; 'a logical, though highly speculative, analysis'. And I'm not hearing an application."

"We know where the closest Reach-inhabited worlds are, and we know where the closest 'pacified' worlds are. There could well be records there that would give us more information."

"There would also be fleets, defence networks and scarab warriors."

"There are ways to bypass those."

"Yes, and I'm pretty sure I could manage them. You haven't had that ring for nearly long enough. Do you know how many Orange Lanterns have died in this war so far?"

"Yes. Zero."

"And I intend to keep it that way for a little while longer. The Reach aren't a group of minor pirates who don't bother with data security."

"Neither are the Spider Guild. Or the Psions."

"Only the Psions really compare, and they never had the population, mental flexibility or industrial capacity that the Reach do. Or anything like their experience with Lanterns."

"'Use orange lasers' hardly requires Coluan intellect."

"It does if you actually want to hit anything. Orange lasers barely even work for point defences; they go through constructs."

I pause for a moment to think. I know where the nearest Reach world is without needing to stare into space; unlike Psions, Reachians are actually fairly nice to each other. Unlike the Leentniar they have a functioning civil society. They've pretty much perfected the dual moral standard. Their serfs… I can feel them too, though they have a good deal less orange in them. When we start liberating those worlds I want to make sure that their behaviour is fully documented, so I can use it to browbeat anyone who questions my use of the orange light on a philosophical level.

But with regard to the actual issue under discussion: is it a good idea for me to appear on a Reach world? The Reach know that we can do things like that, but they must also know that there's some sort of limitation to the ability due to the way we don't use it all the time. If I do it carrying no other equipment and… Don't immediately jam all communications and kill all life on the planet, I'll be giving them a good idea that it's a me-only thing. Might be worth suggesting to Dox that I jump a fleet or two around without being outside the ships, so that it looks like it's not dependent on me.

"I'm going to say 'no', not without stronger evidence that we'd actually get something useful out of it."

"I understand. I'll keep working on creating a way to detect their spatial distortion drives at extreme range."

"Any thoughts on whether they'll swarm a place en masse or probe it first?"

"There are no records of them sending in the industrial portions of their fleet until after the target is thoroughly defeated. I believe that they will send a fleet that is strong enough to do the job but which won't be a critical loss if it is destroyed. Are we planning on destroying it?"

"We're having a plan to do that. But my preference is to negotiate either their surrender or an alliance."

"How will our local affiliates feel about that?"

"About as happy as Commodore Amalak was about me negotiating terms with the Spider Guild, I imagine. They might make a noise, but by definition, the people they've acted against are either dead or under Reach dominion now. The worst they've done to anyone in L.E.G.I.O.N. is light commerce raiding, and they can pay reparations for that."

"The Queen had to be comprehensively defeated before she would agree to that."

"The Guildmasters had to be killed before the Queen was in a position to agree to that. And it's not as if I can't defeat the Leentniar. That's just a sub-optimal outcome."

"Will you be encouraging them to agree with you?"

"No. Quite aside from the fact that a culture secure enough to fend off Reach social conditioning efforts would have protocols in place to prevent me doing that, I want to make it an honest choice."

"As you did with the Citadelians."

"Quite. There's a book I read a few years ago. I think it was called 'Hyperion'..? Something like that. One of the characters had an interesting interpretation of a famous passage from one of my planet's religious books. The classical interpretation is that by not forcing Abraham to sacrifice Isaac, God showed mercy to a faithful man. The reinterpretation was that Abraham wanted to know if this new god was worth worshipping. If he maintained his demand for human sacrifice then he clearly wasn't. Abraham was genuinely willing to kill his son to gain that knowledge; God demonstrated that he was worth worshipping by not insisting that he go through with it."

"Both I and the orange light respect people who follow their desires. That doesn't mean giving them free rein under any circumstances. Some desires are mutually exclusive. If a person wants to stay true to their faith rather than amend it and live, I respect that. And I kill them, or they kill me. I only ask people to think things through before committing. I-."

My ring blinks again, images of the Leentniar ships momentarily replacing Lantern Gozzi's head. Not in a system either of us are in, but we can get there before they reach the only inhabited planetoid.

"Will continue this later."

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th July 2012
06:35 GMT

"Shoo."

Alas, the Leentniar fleet does not shoo.

We've always known that the Reach weren't stupid. But what I perhaps didn't twig on is the fact that the volume of space they occupy means that even if they would ideally have liked to, it simply isn't possible for them to follow a single narrow set of directives everywhere. They simply have to exercise power in a decentralised way. So while their multifaceted assimilation campaigns across virtually their entire frontier were at least similar in general appearance, the sheer number of alien species they have contact with meant that it was inevitable that they'd try something a little different at some point.

Not all parts of the Reach keep their patsies weak. Lantern Gozzi may have been on to something about them having regular contact.

Leentniar capital ships are ugly blocks of metal and ceramics armed with spatial distortion pulsers which bypass most conventional defences. Including most-

The attack force fires a volley. A couple of shots ripple through space-time towards me, while the majority flow down the local gravity wells towards the local inhabited planet.

-construct defences. We don't have that many Lanterns trained for situations like this.

I wave my hands and space snaps back into shape, a blast of x-rays and gamma rays exploding from the wrinkle I just ironed.

"Fascinating." The construct Lantern Gozzi uses looks a little like a large kiln, appearing around a pulse and shrinking, her far superior understanding of the physics involved allowing her to do a much cleaner job of shutting it down than I managed. "Inefficient, but fascinating."

"Illustres to Leentniar fleet. You have not identified the reason for your attack or stated demands. You are intruding in territory in which you are not welcome. I will ask you once more to leave. If you do not comply-"

They fire another volley. Some distance away I detect a tiny flare of gamma radiation as Lantern Gozzi shuts down another.

"-then I will use direct force-"

Again, I forcibly stabilise space to block the shots heading towards me. I'm actually… Well, in a few minutes I'll take enough radiation exposure that I'd die if it wasn't for my rings, and the Leentniar ships are showing small signs of wear on their frontal armour as they continue to head in to the system.

"'Inefficient'?"

"I generally operate under the assumption that if someone uses anything more complex than a mass driver for planetary bombardment, they are showing off their 'equipment'."

"You get that a lot in Vega?"

"Dealing with Citadelians was a frustration. Amalak is far more civilised."

"Not having any trouble?"

"Should I be?"

"You're using your ring to neutralise an attack you hadn't encountered before today."

"It's surprisingly rewarding. Coluans simply aren't adapted for combat in the way species like yours are, but I find that the intellectual challenge combined with the utility of my ring appeals to me."

"Less slogging through the mud with a busted plasma gun?"

"Airless low-gravity corridors filled with smoke, and I generally only had a coil pistol."

"I'm glad that you found a new employer. That sounds like a tremendous waste of your abilities."

"That was for Amalak."

"If you're considering a full-time career change, I'm sure that Dox would appreciate having someone around who can think at his level."

"I can't think at his level. No one other than his father can."

"I don't know about that. There's a family of mad scientists back on Earth-."

"It is not possible to properly practise science while insane."

"I'll give you one of Georgia Sivana's communication devices and you can argue the point with her."

"You mean to say that there is a member of your species who can match intellects with a clone of Vril Dox."

"Yes, in some fields at least."

"I'm… Scepti-. Oh."

"Yeah, we get that a lot. And they've stopped shooting."

"Do you intend-? Possumizer?"

"Don't try-. Huh."

"Very few people will continue shooting when their weapons are clearly having no effect."

"Yes, but-. No. I was going to say 'don't try to understand', but honestly? If you can? Please explain it to me. We'd really like to know."

"Do you intend to negotiate with them?"

"I'm going to give it one more go. Illustres to Leentniar fleet, please respond."

"You're giving them more opportunities to back down than I expected. Why not kill them and move on to the rest?"

"Because we're being recorded. And of course copies of our recordings of this conversation will make the rounds, as a comfort to our allies and a warning to anyone who might be planning on doing something stupid like becoming our enemy. Do you hear me?"

I stop transmitting.

"I can't afford to be called back to fight everyone who thinks they can stick the boot in while we're fighting the Reach. And as an organisation, N.E.M.O. can't afford to look like they can't stop that sort of attack. Word will get around."

"Leentniar Controller responding. We will quit this system."

"And?"

"Refrain from further attacks against this system."

"Inadequate. All systems in your path are L.E.G.I.O.N. affiliates. We will protect all of them."

"That will be relayed to my Masters."

"How about I do it instead. Lead the way."

The ships had been turning away, but a moment later they visibly change their direction, then-.

The ships explode!

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th July 2012
06:41 GMT

"Should have seen that happening, really."

Lantern Gozzi nods as she examines a floating chunk of debris.

"Because they were contaminated by talking to you, and you implied that you could follow them if they returned home. Of course."

"The only thing that surprises me now is how fast they were able to rig their ships to explode. That sort of system would be a liability in combat."

"Perhaps they assume that their assault forces won't be returning."

"I'd be surprised. This is a lot of mass of ship to write off that casually."

"Just the crew, then? Ah."

I pause my own scanning. As far as I can tell, they projected a distortion effect into their own superstructure, causing their fuel reserves to undergo nuclear fusion. The area around what I think are the fuel reserves is… Gone. Reduced to slag. Other parts of the ship are somewhat intact but they either borrowed Reach Lantern-defying technology or developed it independently. It's still quicker for Lantern Gozzi and I to go through this piece by piece than call in a L.E.G.I.O.N. salvage team.

"Anything useful?"

"A part of their communication system. It appears to have been furthest from the centre of the explosion. If I can get some idea of their range, we can narrow down how close their main fleet is."

A reasonable idea. Even with systems that can communicate instantly, there are usually some limitations. L.E.G.I.O.N. doesn't have that problem and the Reach get around it with a somewhat energy intensive system for long distance communication. Most species don't have that advantage.

I'm reminded of a scene from 'Down Periscope'. Kelsey Grammer's character fakes being unable to perform a piece of navigation in order to trick a member of his submarine's crew into thinking that their special skills are crucial and so gain the confidence they'd previously lacked. Near the end of the film the member of the crew works it out, but since they'd completed the task successfully it didn't matter.

A flotilla was destroyed here, far from a living world. The souls of the dead might make it to the world we were protecting eventually, but right now they're swarming about us in the confusion of the recently dead.

And I can see them.

It's never really come up before. On a living world souls generally go to their final rest a little quicker than this. When I destroy ships I usually just move on, or leave the spiritual aspect to Lord Hades.

But I can't shield entire systems. Even if whoever was in charge of these ships did actually send a message back about the level of resistance they encountered, we've got no guarantee that it will amount to more than a mild pause. Perhaps just an information bulletin. I can't afford to not offer-.

"I believe that I have them."

"From a broken communication device?"

"No, from a number of factors, of which this debris is only one. I assume that you're following your cultural imperative and 'letting me work it out for myself'?"

"Not exactly. I was just wondering how long I should leave it before doing something that I'm reasonably confident will get us the location. Would you-?"

"Their souls. You can.. see them?"

"If I unfocus a little. Jade's reluctant, but I do strongly recommend picking a religion and leaving your executor some sort of instruction on where you want your remains interred."

"I've always known that Colu was mystically inert, but I assumed that arcane phenomena were limited to places like Earth."

"No. It turns out that 'inert' just means 'not very ert'. Everywhere in the material universe is linked to the Dreaming, and hence to magic. The souls of the crew are mere-"

I hold out my left hand, feeling the imprint in the Honden and pulling it to me.

"-wisps, but they still have weight to them."

They really are very simple things. I wonder… Is Lord Hades giving the souls of the aliens he judges complexity they never had before? Or is the lack of a connection what causes this? Are his new subjects integrating so well because he's effectively making them human?

"You may as well bring them."

"I'm not sure that I can. Certainly not safely. Using them to find 'home' would necessitate me not caring about them. So let's try your way; we can always come back if you're wrong."

"Very well. I've also notified the local L.E.G.I.O.N. assets that they can find these wrecks here to study in detail."

W-?

I nod. "Because they might have to fight them if we're not quick enough."

"Yes." She pings me some coordinates. "I think that it would be best if you accompanied me. They will probably have countermeasures ready and be in a high state of alert."

I float closer to her and grab her with a construct tether. "Probably best if you let me fly us there. My construct strength carries over into FTL speed. Armour up."

She nods, generating a construct version of Amalak's organisation's boarding armour.

"Two, one."

Space bends and-. Keeps bending? Why-? A trap, or-? Gravity, some sort-.

Flatten.

Space snaps back, and the rings show me the colossal wave of x-rays shooting away from the not-actually-all-that-small black holes I just jumped into, the generators being converted into vapour immediately. The ships are further away, the larger ones moving to interpose themselves between the smaller vessels and the oncoming radiation wave. They've got FTL sensors, then, at least in the larger ships.

Transmit.

Compliance.

"Alright try. Three out of five. I won't hold it against you."

Scans of the system show a large fleet, but it appears to be comprised entirely of warships. No tenders, no workshops, no docking cradles.

"But it didn't work. I want to negotiate with your government, and I don't believe that your civilisation can survive having the ships here destroyed as well as the raiders who killed themselves to try and prevent me finding you."

With the radiation wave having passed us by, I untether Lantern Gozzi and reach out across the void, flattening space around the ships as they try to alter it to increase their agility.

"I understand that you do not habitually have direct dealings with aliens. However, in this instance the price of not doing so will be the discontinuation of your people as a technologically sophisticated species. Which means that you will no longer be able to flee the Reach. If you choose not to speak with me, you will immediately receive the worst option. Continuing as you are is thoroughly off the table."

"Speak to me or I start shooting."

…

"We will hear you."

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th July 2012
06:46 GMT

The fleet is… Spreading out. As per my directions all their primary weapons are powered down, as are their main drives. While I can't get perfect scans of their interior, it's far easier to detect how much power is running through which parts of their hull. And once you know roughly which parts of their ships' infrastructure are where, that tells you where they're applying combat power. And unlike L.E.G.I.O.N. ships which have the luxury of maintaining full combat power indefinitely, the Leentniar ships don't.

"Observations?"

"To use the human phrase, we have them over a barrel. They can't get away and they can't afford to lose these ships. They might decide that dying here is better than dying while fighting the Reach, but otherwise you can probably make them do whatever you wish."

"Don't put too much faith in people behaving rationally."

"I don't. But leaving their original homes in order to survive suggests a far higher degree of rationality than most species display."

"We don't know who stayed behind."

"Then the rational ones escaped, and with a little fortune passed on their traits to their descendents."

They don't open a shuttle bay for us. I suppose that might be because they don't have permeable force fields, because they don't use small craft or because they're trying to keep our presence a secret from the majority of the crew. Instead, we're heading for what is basically a maintenance hatch. Quick scan… A basic sensor system but no obvious weapons. I press my right hand against the surface of the door and someone inside triggers the system to open it.

I float inside first, Lantern Gozzi just behind me. An actual airlock. Do they not have the capacity for anything more sophisticated, or do they just choose not to overcomplicate a perfectly functional system? I'm getting slightly better scans of the interior of the ship from here, so I suspect that whatever's defying my scans is built into that impressive external armour.

The outer door closes behind us and air metaphorically hisses into the vacuum. I land on the surface that's in the direction of local gravity and wait for pressure to equalise.

"I assume that you're taking the lead during negotiations."

"You assume correctly. This sort of discussion is something my rank requires me to handle, and my empathic abilities make me well suited to."

"Understood."

"Feel free to use silent ring communication if there's something you think I'm missing."

She nods as pressure equalises and the interior door retracts directly away from us, sliding along a corridor on rails. Hm. I.. think they were trying to avoid having a weak patch in their exterior armour, which means that they've compensated for the relatively primitive construction with sheer mass. I wait until the column has fully retracted into an interior wall before walking down the short corridor into the ship proper.

A single Leentniar is waiting for us. Humanoid, female and decidedly thin. Scans show… The surrounding part of the ship has been evacuated. That doesn't necessarily mean that they're planning anything; given their isolationist tendencies it's possible that everyone who has contact with us is going to kill themselves.

I give her a moment to say something, but she's focusing on a personal scanner that she's waving at us. Well, social norms aren't the same everywhere.

"Hello, I'm the Illustres of the Orange Lantern Corps and a member of the N.E.M.O. Council. Might I ask who you are?"

"I will act as a go-between between you and the Masters of the Leentniar."

Her voice… Sounds like she's ill-. Of course. If someone has to die, it's better if it's someone who was going to die anyway. Quick check… She wants to serve, to avoid being a burden. Do I scan her directly? They might detect it, but I don't think that really matters at this point. Do it. Ah, looks like widespread leukaemia-variant. Easily fixable by power ring. If we get a result which leaves the Leentniar as a going concern I'll fix it and offer her an ambassadorship.

"Because they can't speak to me directly. I understand. Are we talking here or somewhere else?"

"I can communicate with the Masters perfectly well from here."

I look around at the plain utility corridor. I suppose there's no real need for a fancy meeting room-. Ah. It's a local custom. They consider things like that wasteful.

"Very well. To summarise my demands: the worlds of this region are allied to my organisation."

"We have encountered Green Lanterns before."

"We're focused on a far smaller area."

And… Well, we don't have the same quantity of veteran ring users that they do, but our total numbers aren't all that much smaller at the moment. A combination of lower moral requirements and far more Maltusians able to work on ring production. We'll probably outnumber the Green Lantern Corps within a year. For better or worse.

"And we're at war with the Reach. Whether that was your intent or not, the Reach are using the Leentniar as proxies to get their foot in the door of civilisations neighbouring them with the eventual aim of assimilating them."

"The methods of the Reach are known to us."

"We're putting a stop to it. Which means that your people have a decision to make. We can't have you threatening our allies or driving neutral parties into the hands of the Reach. So, either you settle down and ally with us, or you accept us marooning you somewhere out of the way. Refusal will result in us assuming that you're siding with the Reach and treating you as our enemy. Do you understand?"

"Yes. I will relay what you have told me."

She takes a few steps away and activates a force field generator built into the collar of her space suit. It surrounds her head in a translucent purple bubble, a privacy screen which lets us know that she's still there but prevents us from hearing what she's saying or reading her lips. I take a moment to check, and I can scan through it perfectly well. But

looking outside the physical, seeing the patterns of her desire mesh with those… There they are.

Ring, send to Lantern Gozzi. 'I have the location of the Leentniar civilian government'.

Message sent.

Directly confronting them might make my point a little better, and I doubt that the people the Leentniar have raided over the years would object. But there are far more L.E.G.I.O.N. affiliates that haven't encountered them than that have, and we already risk looking high-handed due to the forceful way we've assembled our coalition at relatively short notice.

'It's for your own good' is a justification that really looks better in history books than in a diplomatic conference.

I advise taking no action. Don't even mention it.

I don't nod. If I use that location, I can write off persuading them to ally with us. It might help convince them to surrender and it will make destroying them easier, but we're not there yet.

The force field around the nameless emissary's head shuts down.

"The Masters have questions."

"Ask away."

"What do the Leentniar stand to gain materially by aiding you?"

"Assuming that we win, you can have your original homeworld and territory back, if you want it. In the short term, if you ally with us, we'll assist you in bringing whatever ships you want to commit up to our standards, and arrange a place away from the front line to settle as many of your people as you want to settle. You'll also gain the good will of your neighbours, which can be useful at times."

"What do the Leentniar stand to lose materially by aiding you?"

"Your lives. Your relative anonymity. The Reach might be happy to leave you alone while you weaken their targets, but if you side with us then that will change. Our main fleets have technological parity with the Reach, but in a slugging match we expect to lose ships and crews. You also stand to lose your fear."

"Fear?"

"The fear that causes your people to send a dying woman to meet a diplomat. Once the Reach are gone, you can become what you want, not what you need." I shrug. She probably doesn't have the cultural context to understand that answer. "Anything else?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th July 2012
06:52 GMT

"…because we're not stupid and that's obviously a world it would be easy to flee from."

I shift the construct map back to the area closer to Reach territory.

"Please ask your Masters to stop insulting me. If you take the cooperation deal, and you try and leave, see 'bad option'. Do you understand that I will be the guarantor of this treaty? Do you understand that while I will aggressively prosecute a war if you initiate one, I will respond to bad faith with extermination?"

"I will remind them."

As the force field reappears I reflect on the fact that I'm not seeing any yellow at all. No concern for her personal safety I'd understand; she's dying and she's devoted to her people. To such a person, dying in service would be far more satisfying than dying in bed. Desirable, even. As for the Masters themselves I see bubbling yellow, though only on the level of a critical negotiation.

Do they think I won't..?

The force field vanishes.

"My Masters believe that-" She points. "-this system will be suitable for our needs."

I take a look. No easily habitable planet, but I suppose that since they're used to living in ships that won't be an issue. Some mining is taking place there now, though it isn't anything vital to anyone's strategic objectives. Neighbours… Will probably be happy to accept payment for any piracy they've suffered. Nothing I need to preserve in the system so it won't matter if they strip mine the place. The only obvious drawback is that there isn't a L.E.G.I.O.N. fleet within convenient distance for cross-training. We'll have to either reposition one or wait until we can build enough ships for another. This region isn't exactly a combat-hotspot, and it's not like the Leentniar can't defend themselves.

"Acceptable. Since you have a clear cultural preference for isolation we won't try to compel you to mix with your new allies, but we will need to assign an ambassador-" Because it sounds better than 'governor' or 'parole officer'. "-to smooth over any problems. We'll begin providing you with technical information once you're settled in."

And we've filled the system full of spy drones.

"We have additional requirements."

"You're not in a particularly strong position here, but you can ask."

"To retool our industry we require more raw materials than can be accessed in that system. We require mineral rights to-" She points. "-this system and this system."

Hm. Again, those aren't heavily mined, but three gas giants have limited automatic metallic hydrogen harvesting operations. I can probably talk the rights-holders to the rest into giving them up, but those would be a sticking point. Of course, depending on what they need it might turn out to be more efficient to just buy whatever they need and ship it in.

"Why? There's nothing in those systems that isn't in the system you're already getting."

"This eventuality was not unforeseen. The Masters of the Leentniar have contingency plans which we are now activating. The best outcome for the Leentniar comes from beginning manufacturing at once. Deposits of titanium and various rare earth metals are more accessible in the asteroids here-" She points. "-and the moon here and here, than they are in our own system. We will build mine works as fast as we can, but bringing in material from outside of the system for the first four thousand work cycles will prevent delays in ship-building."

"And after that you won't need it?"

"We can always build more ships, but a larger fleet would be impractical to create during a war due to crew requirements."

"You mean that you don't have enough people to crew a larger fleet."

"We can increase our population size with the aim of building a larger fleet, but the time lag involved means that we could not do it quickly and the necessary expansion of food, crèche and education facilities would require resources that would otherwise go into ship building."

Not unreasonable. On a habitable planet it's quite easy to increase the amount of agricultural output. On spaceships it's really not. Especially if you want anything with actual flavour. I can't calculate exactly what their output is likely to be without seeing their civilian ships. Honestly, once they're in full production it might be worth having them just build ships for other people. A society like this is going to have far more experience of ship building than almost anyone.

Ring, message to Lantern Gozzi. How quickly would you be able to assess how the Leentniar could best support our offensive?

Message sent.

"Compile an exact list and I'll start negotiations with the current rights-holders. It might be easier to have them supply you with the material you want directly."

"There are ways that could be made acceptable."

"Good. Next issue. Piracy. When you become a L.E.G.I.O.N. affiliate you will cease all raiding of other L.E.G.I.O.N. members permanently and all non-L.E.G.I.O.N. worlds for the duration of the war with the Reach. You will pay proportionate reparations to extant civilisations whose property you have expropriated and whose citizens you have killed."

"We acknowledge that all military activity must be conducted through L.E.G.I.O.N., but we have few fungible assets."

"Payment can be deferred, and be made in the form of ships once you're at capacity."

"Acceptable."

"What will you do with the Leentniar currently assigned to pirate duties and their crew?"

"The crew will be killed. The outwards-facing Leentniar will be kept in semi-isolation for interface duties like this."

That would depend on how well organised their demographic and industrial data is. Perhaps half an hour. I assume that you want me to go?

Yes.

"My Masters wish me to discuss data transfer regarding L.E.G.I.O.N. ship types."

"I will transfer data on smaller ship types once you're situated. Additional data will be provided once your construction work is shown to be up to specifications. The underlying technologies don't vary much."

"You will not prohibit us building other classes of ship?"

"The L.E.G.I.O.N. ships are designed to be optimised for fighting the Reach. If you want to customise it or you think you can improve upon it, good for you. And you can build other ships if the local situation requires it, but we'll expect those ships to be your focus."

A noticeable decrease in fear from both their negotiator and the Masters. They must really like their existing ship classes. I'm sure that they'll be able to switch without too much trouble; several of the smaller classes of ship were designed for lower technology bases than Maltus has. It's mostly the larger ones which are more sophisticated because we plan to use them offensively and anything that can't actually fight Reach warships and survive scarab warriors will be dead weight. We'll have to see what the Leentniar are capable of before we start placing orders.

"We need to maintain cultural security."

"We've seen what the Reach can do. We will need some contact in your new home system, and your offensive fleets will be integrated into the L.E.G.I.O.N. command structure. However, there's no need for mass immigration unless you want it. I would recommend that you abandon your current 'exile or suicide' tradition, but I suppose you can keep it if you really want."

She nods. "That should be sufficient for a provisional agreement. I will relay it now."

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th July 2012
06:58 GMT

I nod.

"Then we have an agreement in principle. Now, implementation. I assume that your masters will want your military forces to check the system before moving your civilian population there?"

"Yes."

I could send Lantern Gozzi, but I… Think that having the two of us stick together is a better idea. I don't think that the Leentniar are planning anything foolish, but it's best not to give them a target just in case.

"In the interests of avoiding potential misunderstandings, Lantern Gozzi and I will accompany you. We will communicate our accord to the neighbouring systems-" Not 'neighbouring' in the sense of being next to, but in the sense of being in the same general area. "-and ensure that no one troubles you."

"Acceptable. I will convey that to the Fleetmaster."

"Before.. that. I can't help but notice that you're unwell. Since it's now in our interest that your people survive, I'm happy to include medical technology in addition to the ship designs without extra concessions on your part."

That seems to make her uneasy.

"I would not want to extend my own life at a cost to the Leentniar. If there are other technologies-."

"This is non-transferable. It really isn't in our interests to generally give you technology when you're not using it for us, but medical technology allows you to maintain your population more efficiently."

"Then we accept."

"Would you like to be treated first? You don't look well."

"That would be a wasteful allocation of resources."

"What, you expect someone else to volunteer for 'dealing with aliens' duty? Aren't you already, by your standards, contaminated?"

"I was expecting to die. There are others with more vital-."

"But I'm not offering it to them. We Orange Lanterns are, I'm afraid, pernicious individualists. I'm genuinely curious about what you'll choose. Do you want to die because you're contaminated and can't live with the self-doubt and disgust, or will you live because you don't want to deprive the Leentniar of whoever would need to be exiled in your place?"

My eyes are glowing as I lean towards her.

Looking at her like this is fascinating. She doesn't know how she's expected to answer. She's trying to work out the right answer, images of her teachers, family members and inspirational figures flashing through her active desire network while I watch. She wants to be right more than she wants to live, and she's more worried about getting it 'wrong' than about dying. Which could be a problem if I intended to give her a ring. Although in a purely industrial setting she would probably be useful.

"Or have you realised that what would help your people most is getting hold of an orange power ring and learning how to use it?"

"I don't… I haven't-. What do you want in exchange for giving one of us a power ring?"

Ooh, so close. She appears genuinely afraid of taking something for herself. Let's see if I can break through that reluctance.

"Do you want to live?"

"I… Don't. I don't have any strong attachment to my own existence. I live to serve the Leentniar. I die to serve the Leentniar."

Drat.

"Okay. But how does that apply here?"

"I believe that I should ask to be healed."

I reach toward and tap my fingertips against her forehead, a wave of orange passing through her body. I still have a bit of a problem with idealised forms when I do this… Though I imagine that most people don't consider it to be a 'problem'. Maybe I should have looked into her species' standards of beauty, but some things translate reliably between humanoid species and… She's going to be an ambassador anyway, so there's no real problem.

"That alright?"

She takes a moment to evaluate, rolling her shoulders and taking deep breaths.

"Did you remove my medication?"

"It wasn't healthy for healthy people to have that in their system. I'm a little surprised-" But only a little. It's a bit of a shame that there isn't a colour for communalism. "-that you were still upright."

"This meeting did not require me to walk." She moves her legs slightly, her additional muscle and fat mass making a posture with legs further apart more comfortable. "Are you prepared for us to move now?"

"Are you prepared to keep living now?"

"There doesn't appear to be any immediate benefit to my death, so, yes."

"Excellent. We'll speak again shortly. Lantern Gozzi, with me."

I turn away from their diplomat… 'Outward-facer', and walk back towards the exterior exit. Lantern Gozzi follows me, and a moment later I hear the sound of the armour plug sliding back into position along its rails.

Ring to ring.

Compliance.

I thought that went well. Chance of a backstab?

Low, I should think. I think I should say that just before we boarded I calculated the power you used to disrupt their singularities and gravity drives. I have been underestimating you.

With power rings it's not a simple energy output calculation.

The plug clunks into position and the air is drawn out of the room.

And always remember that my power output is something that any other Lantern can equal, you included. Actually, most do, though only in short bursts.

Were you considering their diplomat for a ring?

Yes, but I don't think she'd be a good fit. I'll take a look at the others when we get to their civilian fleet and try and find someone who thinks in the right ways there.

The outer door opens and we fly out. I take a moment to release my grip on the fabric of space-time as Lantern Gozzi and I fly in the direction of their new home.

"Orange Lanterns to Ambassador. Please pass on the destination to the Fleetmaster in order for it to be relayed to the rest of the fleet. We will wait for you there."

"I will comply."

"Lantern Gozzi, in your own time."

She glows and then vanishes, and I take another moment to look at the ships. Some visible wear, but from an external position they seem to be in good repair. I assume that they only use them during major offensives, but I'll have to ask the Masters when we visit the civilian fleet.

Then I turn away and warp out.

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th July 2012
07:24 GMT

"...change of heart and will be signing the protocols to join L.E.G.I.O.N. shortly."

The image of the Exarch of Khrosh nods as it floats over my ring.

"Is this the standard L.E.G.I.O.N. protocol for dealing with such people?"

"It's a fairly unique situation, but where I'm from it's fairly common to give generous terms to people who surrender promptly. The absolute last thing we want is anyone voluntarily signing up with the Reach. Please ask your shipping companies to generate loss estimates and we'll add it to their reparations bill."

That gets a more confident nod.

"That will present no trouble at all. Are they presently in debt-bondage, then?"

That's… Um.

Putting entire species in bondage is something I'm a little uncomfortable about. I mean, the Clickers were perfectly happy to put themselves in bondage to the Maltusians and feudal relationships don't have to be abusive. Even with the element of choice removed. But I'm not… Enslaving a species here, I'm…

Forcing them to fight a war, yes. And compelling them to hand over a large portion of their industrial output. But they'd be fighting wars anyway and this way they're working towards a point where they can stop. And it's not permanent. Once the war's over they can quit L.E.G.I.O.N. without penalty-. I should make that explicit.

But binding future generations financially… That's pretty much what a national debt is, isn't it? And future generations of tax payers would be covering that.

"No, they merely have an obligation to pay off their debts. I don't believe that a bailiff force will be necessary."

The space version of the French force that occupied the Ruhr in the nineteen twenties. Actually quite common in instances of interstellar warfare in places where faster than light travel is available but not commonplace. Actually occupying a species' homeworld isn't really practical, as any occupiers are inevitably going to be outnumbered millions to one and the presence of an obviously alien species acts as an incitement to rebellion. So the victor in the war generally extracts material wealth at a cost to the local economy.

"You don't think that watching them is necessary?"

"No, obviously we're going to watch them. And make sure that they're holding up their end of the bargain."

"That sounds like they're in debt-bondage and you're installing a bailiff force, but calling them something different."

"There's a subtle difference, and I think it pays to reinforce the idea that we're not forming this alliance to conquer everyone else and enslave them."

"I suppose that is a sound strategy. Though I admit, I'm curious as to what it means for our eventual conquest of the Reach. We will be gaining some form of remuneration from them, won't we?"

"I'm.. not really the person to talk to about that. Clarissi Dox and the Maltusians are responsible for long term strategy. I know that the plan for the Reach's serfs is to remove their programming and restore refugee populations, but I haven't been involved in the discussions on what to do with worlds that the Reach has settled. I imagine that the benefit you receive is more likely to be in the form of released technology rather than raw materials. I honestly think that the Reach are too dangerous to let them retain enough infrastructure to pay any creditors, but if you really want an answer I can only suggest that you submit an enquiry to Clarissi Dox. Or.. discuss the matter with other L.E.G.I.O.N. affiliates. If enough leaders present a formal plan, you're more likely to make it policy."

Another nod. "That's reasonable. I just wanted some reassurance that we weren't going to be left out in favour of the Maltusians."

"Maltusians aren't interested in building an empire. If they were, they'd already have one."

"I've heard that argument, but… Does it not seem strange to you?"

"Does what not seem strange?"

"The foreign policy of Khrosh has been one of peaceful engagement and trade for as long as we've had contact with other species. We haven't always succeeded, no, but all in all I think that we've been good neighbours and I think that our neighbours would agree. But very few of our people live on other worlds, and there are few members of other species on our world. How many intelligent species does your world have?"

"Including AIs?" He nods. "Three main ones, and representatives of maybe fifty in total, mostly native. And there's another inhabited planet in our system with its own native species."

"Then I suppose that it's only natural that you wouldn't think about it. The 'Clickers' are a tributary species. That's not strange. But what is strange is how the Maltusians integrate other species into their social structures. Even their key organisations: the Lantern Corps, the Darkstars and L.E.G.I.O.N.. They don't even have their own species command those organisations. That struck me as strange the moment I heard about it, and… Some people are concerned that they might use this war with the Reach to integrate their allies into a unified structure."

"Even if they did, you yourself spotted that they don't try to control their organisations directly. If a lot of L.E.G.I.O.N. members decide to remain in a mutual defence pact after the Reach is defeated, if to make that easier they standardise their training and equipment… What of it?"

"A mutual defence pact? Little or nothing, as long as that's as far as it goes."

"The Green Lantern Corps has been going for millions of years and hasn't occupied anyone else's territory. Even amongst their most devoted followers there's little call for the Guardians to take over the galaxy, even for its own good."

Last time a group of Lanternists suggested it, the reply was that they barely had time to run the Green Lantern Corps and certainly didn't have time to administer the galaxy. Of course, that… Particular drawback doesn't really apply to the far more numerous Maltusians, and… Might not apply to the slightly more numerous Controllers. But I don't need to emphasise that point right now.

"I'll take that under advisement. And I do see the wisdom of L.E.G.I.O.N. affiliates being a little more vocal in our feedback."

"Thank you for your time, Exarch."

"Farewell, Illustres."

The image shuts down. Right, that's the last of the local leaders to be notified. I look around the system and note the Leentniar ships doing their due diligence around each of the planetoids.

"Illustres to Lantern Gozzi. Anything anomalous to report?"

"No, nothing. The Leentniar are completing their survey as fast as their sensors allow them to. I have a protocol question."

"Ask away."

"Are you referred to as 'Illustres' without a name qualified because you are the only Lantern with that rank, or is using names a taboo in your culture?"

"You should know enough about human culture-."

"You don't come from the Earth of this universe."

"It's not a taboo, I'm literally incapable of saying it. Or thinking about it too hard. My name should be in the file; you can use it if you want."

"Your first name is in the file; I know that in your culture-."

A Leentniar squadron turns away from the asteroid they were scanning and warps out of the system.

"Illustres to Leentniar ambassador. What-?"

"Our central fleet is under attack by the Reach. Please, save us."

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th July 2012
07:28 GMT

"Authorised."

Heavy armour on, construct armour on

step out

near where I saw the desires of the Masters.

"Illustres to all. Mobile L.E.G.I.O.N. assets within range to my location."

I scan, feeding the results into L.E.G.I.O.N.'s tactical network as I do so. The Leentniar appear to have parked their factory ships throughout an unremarkable system's asteroid belt, their hulls a mix of the thick slabs of armour that their warships have and open sections where the crew are loading raw materials from the asteroids they're harvesting. Other, smaller vessels are -or rather were- making runs between them or grabbing smaller rocks that aren't worth moving a large ship to acquire. Now, they're heading away from the Reach as fast as they can, but their smaller size, weaker shields and thinner armour mean that-.

A Reach squadron pounces on one and destroys it in a moment.

Easy to see why no one noticed them here. Most systems don't have rocky worlds orbiting their suns, but this one doesn't even have rocky moons. Without easily exploitable sources of minerals, anyone who surveyed it would note that it wasn't worth bothering with and then leave. Combined with the fact that it's not near anyone's home world and is in the Reach Periphery, it's easy to see why they've been getting away with hiding here.

The Reach forces-. I think that's a periphery fleet. Nothing that hurts their reserves, but also nothing that a Lantern can't deal with. The Leentniar are already moving their defensive military assets into position to block for the factory ships, which are trying to head for the largest of the system's three gas giants. Slowly.

One was definitely going too slowly. The Reach ships are surrounding it and shooting into the slowly closing external hatches-. They weren't blocking the system. That would have made it obvious that someone was claiming it, so there was nothing to stop the Reach dropping right on top of them. The only surprising thing is that they only jumped on one ship. So… A rushed job?

I try to warp, but the Reach are blocking that to keep the Leentniar from reinforcing their factories. Stepping

out and aiming for the desires of the Reach

takes me into range of the main body of the Reach fleet, but it also takes me close enough to the factory ship to see that it's a write off at this point. I can actually see fires burning through the hull in several places, and that doesn't happen unless a ship's insides are a mess.

"Ah, Illustres."

I lunge at the closest Reach ship, a warrior-merchant-troop carrier they mass produce because it can be useful but generally isn't fearsome-looking enough to provoke panic. Armour plates appear from subspace as its point defences orientate on me and open fire.

Not orange lasers.

I form a construct lance as my floating armour plates begin to abrade and charge, the tip of my construct dispersing the ship's shield envelope and shattering the hull. Physics is no friend of space ships, not where relative velocity and kinetic energy are concerned.

"Leave and I don't burn your world."

"I'm sure that you'll try."

Reach ships are trying to cluster up, to form overlapping fields of fire with their point defences. I don't have unlimited ablative shields stored, and at the speed I'm moving it won't be practical for me to transmute more. I speed towards the next target, another multirole cruiser.

"These pathetic savages. We've tracked them for generations."

This one's velocity is closer to my own. The shield envelope holds for a fraction of a second, and only the armour plates facing me shatter. Point defences are abrading my construct armour, but not at anything I'd consider a dangerous rate. I switch my lance for a chainsword and activate it, the construct teeth chomping through the ship's interior and out through the topside. The dying ship exhales a puff of atmosphere as its own momentum finishes the job of tearing it apart, the lights inside fading as the wreck starts to tumble.

"You didn't try to indoctrinate them?"

"Why keep aliens? I can get a pet when I visit the homeworld."

Another cruiser, this one a dedicated warship, turns its main guns away from the crippled factory ship and tries to target me. Unlike the Citadelians the Reach don't use dedicated anti-attack craft ships so it won't have an easy time hitting me, but there's no sense in making it easier than it needs to be. I take a look at their bridge and

step out

before emerging from the Honden and decapitating the vessel's captain with an x-ionised sword. I send the sword at the navigation officer and take a purple death ray out of subspace, firing it at the bridge's marines. They're both just a little too slow in bringing their guns to bear. Their armour keeps them upright, but underneath it their torsos are decayed so badly that it's the only thing holding them together.

I send the sword at the gunnery officer, slicing her in half through the torso just as the other ships realise where I am and start shooting their primary weapons at the ship I'm on. I was going to use a bomb, but if they're doing the job for me there's no point. I link to the computer as I call the sword back, hit the 'we've been boarded' alert and

step out

just as the first shots start slamming into the shields. Since they're relatively small guns it will take a few shots to breach, giving me a moment to get into position.

"Lantern Gozzi to Illustres. I'm in-system."

"Assist the Leentniar in evacuating and make attacks of opportunity at your discretion. Co-ordinate with incoming Leentniar and L.E.G.I.O.N. assets as they arrive."

"At once, Illustres."

Another Reach wolf pack descends on a slow Leentniar tug boat only to miss as the ship suddenly speeds up. Nearby Leentniar warships use the opportunity to open fire, space rippling as they try to get a gravity pulse through whatever the Reach are using to dampen things down.

The ship I boarded explodes, active sensor scans from the other Reach ships desperately trying to locate me. Curious. Logically, they should either disengage or focus on the Leentniar. The Reach must know that ships like this kill Lanterns only by chance or exhaustion. Even if they don't know exactly how capable I am.

"Do you like our defences? We began implementing it to counter the technique you used against the first Reach ship you destroyed. Once I became familiar with the Leentniar, the application became obvious."

I suppose if they're making decisions based on incomplete information it makes sense, but I seldom use eddy pulses. Still, to work out what I did, how to counter it, and then build ships using an unusual technology, that's an impressive turn around time.

I raise my left hand, build up a charge of orange light until the glow is blinding, then fire it at the closest cruiser. The shield fractures as threads of orange light spread out from the point of impact, weakening and cracking it as they go. A heartbeat and it begins to fall away, my shot striking the hull and… Erasing the ship from front to back.

Looks like they cut back on their anti-Lantern technologies to make way for whatever they're using to normalise gravity.

"Well done."

"I bought it as a job lot. And any combat data is useful."

But what's more useful for me? Killing all these ships will reassure our allies, letting some escape might encourage the Reach to flee early in future. On balance, I'd rather kill our enemies while I can.

I sight the largest remaining Reach ship and accelerate towards it, a giant rock crusher construct forming in front of me even as small death ray turrets begin sniping crew in what I think are vital positions. The fleet shoots my construct but it holds firm as it rams into their shield, rotating heads chomping through-.

The shields fail and-.

Qwa matter-

 

[Mr Zoat]

9th July 2012
07:31 GMT

Oh.

-detected.

I try-

The ship's gone.

-to-

My construct's gone.

-step-

It hits me.

Armourarmourreinforcemyarmour!

I can see the flows of orange light from my rings pour into the mould of my construct even as the ravening qwa energy consumes it from the outside! I'm reading-. Every form of energy at once, and a few things that my rings' sensors are glitching trying to understand! A moment later I dully register more of the Reach's ships vanishing as the blinding wave annihilates them, but I think the initial wave has passed me-.

Then the qwa matter hits and my armour construct is gone and my armour is gone and I frantically pull my desires into my environmental shield as I feel the eldritch energy try to eat the very idea that a thing like me ever existed. That I could exist. My desire for autonomy against a force that wants to destroy everyone's desire for anything. My-.

My right arm's gone. I didn't even-.

Bodily integrity and self-image, not just mine but from the entire-.

And now I have no legs or nose.

Um.

The entire Leentniar species, the way things should be and must be-.

It's not enough. It's eating away at me. I'm surprised that my ring is still intact.

Well, if… Larfleeze's desires are still imprinted on his ring-.

What's a ring?

What's… What

am I seeing? I… Want to hide. For my people to hide. To keep away from the things that chase us, they chased our ancestors from wherever our home.. planet was. They're a threat, obviously, but it's the aliens around us that I'm concerned about. We have to harvest them before the Pursuers do, but there's a dreadful risk every time and I want to keep away from them and stay hidden. I want everyone to stay hidden.

Um. Nothing about that seems particularly unreasonable to me.

Who am I..? Hiding from? I mean, a name or something would be-.

GETAWAYGETAWAYGETAWAYGETAWAY!

I'm moving, I'm moving fast but I don't know if I'm going in the right direction or the wrong direction. Something about that doesn't seem-.

HIDE!

I look around this weird… Orange… Place. There isn't really anywhere to hide, just a corridor and it's walls. But I must hide. I try gripping the wall-.

Turning big rocks into small rocks and ore. This is how the fleet survives. It's not interesting, but with patience it can still be satisfying.

Okay, so I'm mining while hiding and fleeing? That doesn't sound right. They don't sound like they're coming from the same place, and I'm not sure how to do them at the same time. I don't think there's anything to actually mine here. I can't see anything to flee from and hiding appears to be impossible as well.

Be a productive citizen, even when it's hard to work out what that means.

I certainly don't have anything against being a productive citizen. I'm getting the impression that I'm not meant to mindlessly obey these impulses. That… Idea resonates in a way that the others didn't. So… Fine? Maybe if I walk a little way down the corridor.

Aliens shouldn't be able to tell us what to do. We should kill them until they stop.

'Alien' is really a matter of perspective. I mean, something's resonating about the desire to kill people and not liking being controlled, but I don't think that something as terminal as 'kill them all' should be applied to a group just because it's a group.

No, it totally should. Individualism is the problem. Society can't work if individuals focus on themselves.

That… Didn't sound…

I look at myself, and see threads from the walls and floor and ceiling binding themselves to each other in a shape… I assume that shape is me? Weird orange voices, is that a normal shape?

It's a shape that it's right to identify with.

Thank you, I think? I don't know, though. I don't think I'm meant to be made of orange light like this. It feels off. And… I think I'm meant to know. That definitely feels like something I should be able to do.

Are any of these threads from… Me? Is that a thing it makes sense to ask?

I try… Pulling at… Me? But none of the threads feel much different in nature from the others. Each of them shows me flashes of things I could want, but nothing really.. settles.

This feels… No, this is very wrong. I'm not meant to be like this.

What am I?

No. No.

I want to be me.

Ugh-? A strand… Connected to my left hand tugs… Okay, um. I follow it, pulling it up from the floor as I go. That causes it to flow into me, some of the other strands falling away as I move through… Whatever this place is. And I feel… A little more like I think I should feel. Though I don't have any.. evidence of that. I've just got feelings to go on, but I suppose that's better than nothing.

Is there anything else that feels familiar? What else do I want?

Some of the not-me desires relate to other people. Do I have..? People? A group I'm part of? The desires make that seem normal, so I suppose

I want to be with my peers.

"I-Illustres?"

I want to know my own mind.

"Illustres?"

I want to know what that voice is.

"This makes no sense."

Which implies that the voice wants it to make sense. Where's the thread for that? No, no… There

"You're dead, but-."

I open my eyes to the blackness of space, a woman I think I recognise and an orange glow. She blinks in shock, the threads from her ring maintaining the orange glow around me.

"Illustres?"

"Perhaps. Who are you?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

Earth 534834

20th November 1992
11:36 GMT -5

Rogue looks my face over as I land, then spares a perfunctory glance at Mr. LeBeau.

"Ah don't see no black eyes." She takes a step closer and prods me experimentally in the chest a few times. "Bruises not show up yet?"

"Hey, cher." Mr. LeBeau smile lecherously at her. "Us boys just be civil-like."

I nod. "And.. I.. need to apologise."

I take the impact beam ring out of subspace and hold it out. She actually starts, eyes widening as-.

"No! No, no." She glances aside, taking a relieved breath. "I mean, I'm not against the idea at some point in the future-."

"Man, you got so little game you give game to e'ryone else." Mr. LeBeau plucks the ring off my hand and holds it closer to Rogue's face, just in front of her eyes. "Lantern got dis here from Mandarin. Thinks it could help you with your problem."

"Mandarin?" She frowns, puzzled. "You cut off a fellah's finger, then asked him for help?"

"No, that's what I'm apologising for. I've had the ring for months; I just didn't know what it did and didn't want to risk experimenting in case it was booby trapped. But it turns out that according to a man who studied it extensively, it creates force fields and it's pretty much plug and play."

She doesn't really react-.

"Sorry, that doesn't exist yet. You just put it on your finger and it works." I shrug. "It probably takes a while to master, but it's the best-."

"Y'all mean it-. I can wear it and-. Touch things?"

"You-. You'll probably have to work at that level of control. But, yes."

"And it ain't trapped? You're-you're real sure-?"

I raise my right hand and jab my index finger through the ring. Unlike with the power ring that has been my ever-present companion since I arrived on this Earth, there's no glow or synthetic voice in my head telling me what's happening. But there's definitely something-.

I hold up my right hand, palm facing her, and picture a plane of force…

Something that looks like transparent gel extrudes from a space just in front of the ring and awkwardly expands to fill the space I'm picturing. I press my left hand against it, but it feels solidly fixed in space. Rogue taps the far side… No transmission of force, but I think this demonstrates the principle well enough.

"Dat ain't for you." Mr. LeBeau pulls the ring off my finger, causing the force barrier to fade and vanish in less than a second as he offers it to Rogue. "You wan' dis, cher?"

"You darn tootin'-" She snatches it out of his hand with her right thumb and forefinger and slides it onto her left index finger. "-ah do."

She looks at it for a moment, flexing her hand.

"So how's this thing work?"

"Just picture in your head an image of the force you want to exert, and it should appear."

"Sounds… Easy, but…"

A bubble forms around her body. It's about five centimetres thick and visible only as it bends light.

"This…" She sighs. "This ain't what ah had in mind."

She goes to put her left hand on my chest, and her own shield bubble stops her.

"Can you feel-?" She shakes her head. "Okay, well, try…" I extend my environmental shield to her. "Try matching the outline of that."

"Ah.. ah dunno-."

Her shield halves its diameter.

"Huh?"

"The ring I use has an AI and is designed to be as easy to use as possible. That ring's a little harder."

"You get it, cher." Mr. LeBeau smiles encouragingly. "Jus' gotta keep workin' at it."

She focuses, the bubble shrinking further and further until I can't see it under the glow of my environmental shield. So I deactivate it and take a step back…

It's still barely visible.

"Looks good, cher. So how's about you try touch something?"

She hesitantly pokes him in the left cheek, then shakes her head.

"Ah still ain't feelin' it."

"Remember, even if it can't literally transmit force, you should be able to instruct it to mirror the pressures on the external surface-."

She pulls her hand back, her eyes widening.

"I felt that."

Mr. LeBeau moves his face towards her hand. "Was it good for you?"

She somewhat clumsily pats the side of his face with her palm.

"I-I can feel it."

I smile. "Excellent. Now, there's a couple of th-"

She grabs me by the jacket and pulls me into a clinch, kissing me hard on the lips.

"-mph?"

It.. doesn't feel quite.. natural, there's a lack of friction, but both pressure and temperature are conveyed-.

"Hey, how come he get a kiss? You got one for me?"

Rogue releases me, her eyes wide and her breaths panting.

Um.

Um.

"Thank you? Um, in the interests of full disclosure, the former-."

"Heh." Rogue looks down, then back up at me. "You don't got a lotta experience talkin' to girls, do you sugar?"

I shake my head. "No, next to none. In the context of romantic intimacy."

Mr. LeBeau snorts. "I believe dat."

"The-the last user of that ring ended up with green skin. We don't know why. And he's probably going to try and get it back at some point."

"Green skin, huh? You like green girls?"

"Um. It's a non-issue. We also don't know what powers the ring, how it recharges or how it will respond to constant use. It's probably worth having Doctor McCoy have a look at it and see if he can make sense of it to make sure that it will keep working, and… Well, there are probably other people in your position, so it would be helpful if we could make more. But it's yours, so, enjoy it."

"So how come you never lend her your ring?"

"Remmy-."

"The last person who wore that ring turned green. The last person who wore this ring-" I point to it. "-spent a billion years in an isolated cave, too powerful to die and too paranoid to move."

"Ah. Dat go' happen to you?"

"I certainly hope not. Mister LeBeau, now that my 'unfair' advantage has been neutralised, would you say that we are -to use the vernacular- 'cool'?"

He nods. "Guess there's only so many times you can shoot yourself in the foot. Jus' don't-."

I completely ignore everything else he says and focus on Rogue.

"Rogue, you are a paragon of courage, resilience and beauty, in whose presence I consider myself fortunate to dwell. I would like it very much if you would accompany me to dinner tomorrow evening."

"Think I got a hole in my schedule, sugar. But ah wanna test this ring out some more right now."

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th July 2012
15:23 GMT

I frown as my armour's computer informs me of the exact time and date. Yes, I… Think that sort of thing was very important to

I want to remember. I loathe the idea of my recall decaying, of the mental networks that make me me becoming unreliable.

me-.

I wince as another strand of orange light extrudes from the Orange Central Power Battery and flows into me.

"Are you you yet?"

I don't change my posture, but shake my head as Hinon floats into my field of view.

"I don't know. No. No, I'm not. I've got… I've somehow recovered most of my memories… I think. At least enough of them to make sense of things… But I don't know what I've lost, and the… The self-awareness I had…"

I shake my head.

"I suppose it can't be self-awareness if those bits literally aren't part of my self any longer."

"Hm."

"As much as I appreciate you checking up on me, I've got a lot of mission reports to go through, so..?"

"I've got a present for you."

She removes her left hand from her sleeve, an orange power ring held between her thumb and forefinger.

"I had thought that next time you felt the need for a new ring, you would be the one making it yourself. Since you clearly can't do that, I made a rush order."

"I'm… Sorry."

"Whatever for?"

"For… Getting the rings destroyed. Larfleeze's ring, and the one you nearly killed yourself making-."

"Larfleeze's ring was a near-useless antique that I'm still not completely sure that Krona didn't have some sort of backdoor to. As for my ring… Frankly, that wasn't my best work."

"It wasn't?"

"As you correctly observed, I put myself into a coma creating it, splitting my focus in all too many ways. And then it went into the Bleed, and frankly it's a minor miracle that it wasn't completely destroyed."

I frown. "Miracle? Do you mean literally or metaphorically?"

"I know that you consider me old, but Triarch worship was well before my time." She shakes her head. "I doubt that any deity you know -most of whom are younger than me- would intervene to deliver a power ring to someone like you. And that's before even considering the awkwardness of delivering it to a reality like yours."

I carefully extend my left hand and take it from her.

"So this is… Better?"

"Better than the ones you were using. About as good as the ones we've forged for the rest of the Corps."

I frown, then nod. "Because all of the Controllers who've forged them have had access to the Orange Central Power Battery, so there's no reason for them to be any worse."

"They're slightly worse. There are… Things you can do, when you know the prospective Lantern as well as I know you."

"Hinon, I'm not sure that I know me at the moment."

"No, I do. You'll work to get back to full mission fitness, because you hate the idea of losing bits of yourself. Which means that you'll be the person I made this ring for eventually."

"I…" I nod. "Intend to, but I've got no idea how long that will take."

"Then you'll have a mildly-suboptimal ring until then. It should still be better than the one you were using." She frowns, turning to look at the Central Power Battery. "Have you tried talking to the Ophidian?"

"No. I didn't think that was a good idea. And I don't… Exactly remember what she's like."

"No?"

"I've got the records, and I remember some of what we did together, but I don't have the… Intuitive understanding of her mindset that I used to have. I remember that it.. used to feel like she was… Next to me, but invisible, the whole time." I shake my head. "And I really don't feel that way right now. Has..? Have any of the other Lanterns tried talking to her?"

"Talking at her, certainly. But she appears to be a one-Lantern snake."

I smile. "That's kind of nice."

I exhale, sliding the new-. No, no, my new power ring onto my left ring finger. My environmental shield engages at once-.

"Oh! Damn it!"

"Is something wrong?"

"I can't use the Honden at the moment. It would-. Probably take me years to fly back to Earth like this."

"Why would you want to return to Earth?"

"I don't right now. But I will probably want to within the next few years."

I stand, pointing my left hand at the Central Power Battery and wanting my-. Myself back. What had been occasional threads becomes a mist, and I-. It's quite a relief to-. Huh, ice cream. Not.. just ice cream, but the days out with the extended family association that had slipped my mind.

"So what actually happened?"

"You flew up to a Reach ship which contained a surprising amount of qwa-matter. The Weaponer's beside himself. It's the most entertainment I've had in ten thousand years."

"So..?"

"Normally I'd say something like 'so don't do that again you silly man', but the Reach can block most types of ring scan and we didn't have any reason to believe that they had anything like enough qwa-matter for something like that. The unfortunate truth is that it's not possible to predict everything a sufficiently clever enemy might try." She huffs. "Having examined the site, it looks like you were completely disintegrated."

"I woke up in a body."

"After you told Lantern Gozzi that you could see spirits, she decided to create a physical duplicate and hope for the best." Hinon frowns. "Normally, I'd warn you about a woman showing that much interest in your body, but since she's coluan you're probably alright."

"And… Between my affinity for the orange light and her ring… That was enough?"

Hinon looks at me like I've said something stupid.

"No, of course not. You drew a tiny portion of the Honden into the material universe, a part associated with the Leentniar. When your physical body was destroyed, it… Dumbing it down a great deal, it snapped back, taking a lot of you with it."

I nod.

"Do you have a plan for getting the rest back?"

"Yes. I'm going to need a wizard and a lift back to the Leentniar's system."