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

[Mr Zoat]

12th August 2012
18:38 GMT

"Hey, Mister Grayven!" / "Hey, Mister Grayven!" / "Hey, Mister Grayven!" / "Hey, Mister Grayven!" / "Hey, Mister Grayven!"

I smile and raise my right hand in a half-wave/half Roman salute as the universe's youngest kryptonians look up from their painting.

"Hello, children!"

Lu-Zod flies unsteadily over to me and grabs hold of my right hand.

"Come see! Come see!"

"I'm sorry, but I need to talk to Karsta Wor-Ul right now."

"Aaawh."

I delicately recover my right hand while patting her on the head with my left.

"I'll come right back when I'm done, okay?"

"Lu-?!"

One of the tamaranean childminders assigned to the facility spots her charge and swoops down to recover her.

"Lu-Zod, you are not to fly off like that!"

The child's face falls. "I'm sorry. I just got so excited!"

I shoo the child back into the care of her guardian, then step back out of the orphanarium and into the corridor.

This place has really brightened up since we slaughtered all the Citadelians who used to live here. I'd assumed that Karsta was the utilitarian sort, but they've actually remodelled the entire interior into something a good deal more child-friendly. Out went about half the cloning tanks, in come arboreta and multi-tier classrooms. Karsta isn't going for mass production here. She-.

"Grayven."

I turn and smile at her, though it's more a 'polite' smile than the genuine ones that the children got.

"Karsta. How are you feeling?"

"Like I'm actually working for a living." And she does actually look tired. Though I suppose that could be due to the fact that by design this facility doesn't invigorate kryptonians anything like as much as the Earth's sun does. "It's rewarding, but I'm feeling my age."

"Hey, you can sunbathe under a purple healing ray with your fingers crossed if you want." She doesn't look impressed. "No luck finding other kryptonians, then?"

"If it were easy, Amalak would have found them first."

And I doubt that Kara In-Ze is going to want to give up her career as a superheroine secret agent to become a childminder. Huh. I never did try finding the local version of Kara What-Ever, did I? I just sort of assumed that she'd either turn up or they already checked and there wasn't one. I mean, sticking her in the phantom zone would have been far safer than a space pod if it was a last minute job.

Hah! Or maybe we've got one with Power Girl proportions and they couldn't get the lid to shut!

…

Yeah, probably shouldn't make jokes about a woman whose entire species got wiped out. Damn ponies. Making me a better person.

"There wasn't anything on the Doomsday about other kryptonians getting away, was there?"

"Yes, Grayven, I just didn't want to check up on it until you asked." She frowns. "Why are you here, anyway? Your monthly check-in isn't for another week."

"We've got a problem. You remember the other version of me I-."

"He's finally coming here."

I wince slightly. "To be honest, he was probably coming here from the moment he saw me. Packing up an entire civilisation and shipping it to the other side of the galaxy isn't something that can be done quickly, but I've received intelligence and he's probably going to be here sooner rather than later."

She shrugs. "The last thing I want is to put Krypton's future in another alien's hands. I can command the Doomsday myself, but none of the kids are going to be ready."

About what I thought.

"I don't suppose you can set the Doomsday to work for someone else, can you? With the right wavelength enhancing you, you could easily destroy their smaller ships even without a ship."

"Anyone can command the Doomsday if I give them access. But there's a difference between controlling a ship and controlling it well. I don't have a second in command who's trained and experienced in using it."

And goodness knows I couldn't fly it worth a damn.

"I-. Okay, so he's not kryptonian, but I know a guy who might be able to get the hang of it."

"Has he commanded a kryptonian warship before?"

"No. But he is very quick at learning things. His name's Harold Near, he's been working with Lex."

"Those human warships aren't terrible, but they don't work anything like the Doomsday."

"Yeah, try.. this guy out before you write him off."

She looks sceptical, but then shrugs. "Fine, it can't hurt. I guess Earth has enough weirdoes that it shouldn't really surprise me if one was a natural at space combat."

"Okay. Ah, there's something I need to check on really quickly, but other than Mister Near is there anything you need here?"

"No, we're fine." … "More children's books and T.V. shows? I wanted to ration them but the tamaraneans wouldn't go for it."

I nod. "Can do. Back shortly."

Mother Box.

Ping.

I step through the silent hole into interstellar space. Right. Rao is that way and Sol is that way…

Ring, scan for kryptonite. Fill My Vacancy!

Scanning. Kryptonite radiation found.

My vision flickers as my ring relays the information to my visor. Okay, that's one lump that shouldn't be there. Tube me.

Ping.

And through again… Giant asteroid made of kryptonite. Okay, if she's even in there I don't want to panic her. Or just have her wander naked through a city wrecking the place like she did in the comic.

"Grayven to Karsta."

"That was quick."

"You've got a medical facility there, right?"

"It's one big medical facility. Why?"

"I've got a giant lump of kryptonite that might have a kryptonian inside it. Can you handle it?"

"The walls are thick enough to block it, and the genomorphs can wear protective overalls. So, yes."

"Good. Sending it to you now."

BOOM!

"Then I'll go and grab Mister Near."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th August 2012
18:57 GMT

"No, I can think of no conceivable way that the broken remains of a power ring could provide the Reach with any advantage at all." Hinon doesn't look impressed. "Though on the face of it the claim isn't utterly preposterous."

"I don't suppose that you know anything about D'xe yourself, do you?"

"I did actually visit it once, back when its surface was still molten. It didn't impress me at the time, and it hasn't changed in that regard since."

"Do you know of anything that could make a Green Lantern go crazy?"

"Not an especial one. The Guardians chose green because of how stable it is. I suppose that a Green Lantern who was unable to reconcile contradictions in their own beliefs might be brought down by their own doublethink. Or fixate on an order long after the Guardians would have withdrawn it, and suffer from guilt. But there is no 'special' risk from using the green light."

"So the problem lay in the Lantern."

"Most likely. Though I feel that it's reasonable to criticise the Guardians for failing to see to the upkeep of their servants."

I nod. Unfortunate as it is, it looks like they really didn't learn anything from Sinestro. Put people in extreme situations and some of them don't respond in the way you hope they will. I mean… Alright, maybe they just don't have the personnel to do that, but they could easily assign Guy or another Honour Guard Lantern with appropriate training to deal with it.

"So either-."

"She's lying. Obviously. But I suppose that helping her won't hurt."

"Is it a concern that the Guardians are telling their Lanterns to lie to us?"

"I would hardly expect them to be happy about the situation. There are already more maltusians bonded to the orange light than there are Guardians. Unless they change, their Corps will either become extinct or become ours."

"'Ours'?"

The Hinon construct nods.

"It would be no great trial to find Controllers who would be willing to bond themselves to the green light. But they wouldn't be Guardians; their priorities and modus operandi would be different. That is what the Guardians can't accept."

"So, what, they'll just turn up on Oa one day?"

"I imagine that they'll make an offer to the senior surviving Green Lanterns first. If you can make personal lanterns, then it's entirely possible that there will be enough Green Lanterns with a similar ability that they feel that maltusian involvement is unnecessary. And in any case, it's unlikely to be occurring soon; Guardians aren't easy to kill. Find out what Lantern K'ryssma is playing at, and then let her continue playing."

"Will do. Illustres out."

I deactivate my ring's communication system and sit back. Funny how the law works. There was a book I read… Decades ago now, where a young man won a aeronautics-themed game show and won a ticket to anywhere on Earth. But he wanted to go into space. Fortunately, the relevant UN body had determined that the rights associated with Earth citizenship extended upwards from the planet just far enough to encompass the space station he wanted to travel to. Thus, it was still 'on Earth', and they were obliged to pay for his passage.

Yuna law requires that anyone approaching the planet jumps through a lot of hoops. And it's not that much easier to leave. However, the definition of 'leaving' isn't what a person might at first assume that it is. So long as I don't board a ship I could teleport into low orbit without 'leaving', thanks to laws set up to enable skydiving. And

I can teleport

back because I haven't 'left'. Wonderful things, laws. The ship carrying the Reach's favourite couriers is just now landing under the hands of a local pilot, though this part of the small commercial shipping terminal is relatively empty.

I raise my right hand in greeting.

"Fancy seeing you here."

The Reach Negotiator turns to see me, and just for a moment cringes at the sight of me before smoothly recovering. I doubt that anyone who wasn't empathic would have noticed; his bodyguard certainly doesn't appear to have done so. No Scarab Warrior that I can see, though any of these might have the implant somewhere on their bodies.

"It is hardly strange. The Free Lancers have a long history as mercantile agents for the Reach. Do you intend to try to avail yourself of their services? I highly recommend them."

There are any number of things I could say here, implying whatever level of knowledge I might have about their scheme, but…

"I'm more interested in what they picked up for you."

"Ah-I'm afraid that all sales are final."

"If you'd taken five minutes to review the 'Free Lancers' record when you hired them, you'd know that's not the case. And even on Yuna, items can be impounded and confiscated if someone can prove that it was stolen from them."

"I assure you that our business here is entirely legitimate."

"Glad to hear it. Reach Negotiators are no fun to kill at all."

"I have personally always found the death of Lanterns to be instructive."

I nod.

"'By the manner of their deaths we shall know them'. Which doesn't really work with Scarab Warriors, because it's so hard to be sure which ones are volunteers and which ones are mind controlled."

"The vast majority are loyal citizens."

"Right, but were they loyal because they were born as a member of your species with all the rights and responsibilities therein, or are they loyal because you fiddled around with their brains and their independence dribbled out of their ear?"

"The first one. It-."

"Actually, I've been meaning to ask about that. Do you do that mind control thing to your own people as well, or is that an aliens-only thing? Do you.. just consider it normal and if the aliens can't cope that's on them, or do you actually think of it as a weapon?"

"Would you be happier if we conquered with overt force as you are wont to do?"

"Probably, yes. That sort of Empire would have to use local collaborators and auxiliaries, and eventually make at least some of the people they conquered into citizens. The Reach doesn't have to worry about that, so you don't bother."

"Before the war with the Green Lantern Corps, Reach policy was to carry out extermination campaigns. Subjugated species were put to work, ghettoised, and eventually eliminated."

"Huh."

"So clearly, your assumption was wrong."

"True, but… That means that you've had two goes, and been completely evil each time. You've basically gone from 'tragically misguided' to 'innately evil' in my mind, and the last time a species did that..."

I shrug, and the Negotiator takes a step away from me as the ship's main hatch opens. I smile faintly, then

step out,

reappearing in front of the vessel's disembarking crew.

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th August 2012
19:01 GMT

"Hello there!"

A grinning male humanoid in blue and red greets me with apparent warmth. Empathic vision shows me something rather different, a man driven to acquire the most potent weapons that he can and with absolutely no scruples on what he does to get them.

If we could trust him to stick to a contract, he'd be an excellent Orange Lantern.

"Hello indeed. I am the Illustres of the Orange Lantern Corps."

"Harrow is the name I go by. My friend's name is Chance." He points a thumb at the grizzled man wearing a tricorn hat. "And the lady there…" The woman in purple. "That's Risqué."

"Doesn't look that risqué." I smile. "But maybe I've spent too much time on Tamaran."

"I don't think I'm particularly harrowing, and I've never seen Chance leave a hand of cards to chance for as long as I've known him." He shrugs. "Names are what you make of them, Illustres."

"Mine's fairly literal. People call me 'Illustres', and-" I intensify my environmental shield. "-I make light."

"Would that be a power ring?"

"Long way from here to D'xe?"

"A long way from a lot of places."

I hold out my left hand.

"I meant, have you been incommunicado? The existence of orange power rings isn't a secret."

I don't think I'm radiating orange light in any metaphysical sense, but his eyes glow and he's not even touching a ring. That sort of thing makes me think 'strong but crazy'.

"Though I imagine the fact that we're at war with the Reach is a more immediate concern."

"Not at all! We're not called 'Free' Lancers because we're under contract! We love bidding wars!"

"Then you do not-" The Negotiator steps forward, his bodyguard fanning out slightly. "-intend to honour your commission to the Reach?"

"It seems that what we've picked up might be a little more valuable than we thought. We'd be fools to let an opportunity like this to slip through our hands."

"And the closest N.E.M.O. planet is closer than the closest Reach planet, and the closest N.E.M.O. fleet is a lot closer than the closest Reach fleet. And I'm here, of course."

Harrow doesn't seem unduly bothered. "It's up to the client to arrange delivery after the hand-off. And since you're not just attacking our ship, it seems to me that you're obeying local law."

"Yes, though I want to be clear that I'm nothing like as obsessive about the principle as the Green Lanterns are."

"Meaning..?"

"Meaning that depending on what you even have, I have to decide how much it will affect the progress of the war. And then I have to decide how badly we need it and whether we need to avoid offending certain parties more or less than we need it. We don't have a multi-million year legacy of lawfulness to live up to."

"Ooh." He holds up his hands. "Consider me warned."

Risqué regards me sceptically. "The Reach are offering us a Scarab implant."

"You know those things mind control you, right?"

"None of us are planning on wearing it. We have sophisticated analysis engines and a contact book full of technical specialists. We're going to reverse engineer the technology."

"Good luck with that. What would I have to offer you to outbid that?"

"Do you have a Scarab?"

"Unfortunately, no. They've started building self-destruct systems into them that make them rather tricky to capture."

Though I do dimly remember… A Booster Gold comic where he got hold of a Scarab after the Rock of Eternity blew up. This continuity doesn't have a Booster Gold… Yet, anyway. And I couldn't find anyone called Jamie Reyes wearing any sort of beetle-themed armour. I could ask William to ask Jebediah whether or not he's got a Scarab, but Jebediah had no real reason to work with me after I killed Nabu.

Wait, was it Jebediah or Nabu..?

"How about a power ring?"

"If you want a long-term contract, I'd be happy to give each of you one. There are very few mortals who can forge rings, and you gaining the ability would make you very valuable to us."

"I hate to repeat myself here, but what part of 'Free Lancer' suggests that we want to be under contract?"

"It's the way your eyes are glowing. Your dominant trait is avarice. I can give you a ring, I can give you access to technology far more advanced than anything the Reach has. You can fiddle around with it to your heart's content and all we'd ask in return is that you share what you learn."

"We're not really looking for that sort of commitment."

"I see why you came to Yuna."

"Hah! Yes, they are a bit like that, aren't they? But that doesn't change the fact that I've already got a generous deal lined up. If you can't outbid the Reach, then… Well…"

He shrugs with exaggerated insolence.

I nod. He has a point, but at this point I don't even know what he has. Asking after that Scarab that might be on Earth would be the next logical step, and… Would Kalmin be willing to trade his antithesis ring?

"Simply knowing that you have something that the Reach want isn't quite enough to make me want to sell the farm. What is it-."

Chance snorts. "You don't even know?"

"I heard a report that you acquired a power ring, but I have no idea whether I should believe it or not."

Harrow reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box.

"There's a standing bounty from all sorts of people for an intact power ring." I smile slightly. Naughty K'ryssma. "But what we got is a little different. We didn't get the full story, but it looks like the Guardians were trying out a new design… But didn't have the bugs all worked out yet."

The small box partially liquefies, revealing the green…

Huh.

Green power rings usually have the green sigil on a circular face. This one is.. slightly darker in colour, with the outline of a square in place of the normal sigil. I can feel the focused will associated with it so it's definitely genuine, but…

Why would the Guardians make something like that, much less actually issue it?

"Have you tested it?"

"How could I do that without tipping off the Guardians? I don't want to get dragged to Oa and stuck in a sciencell."

"In that case, I'm going to need to consult with other parties. Can you hold onto it for a few days?"

"Certainly. I think the bidding might just get interesting."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th August 2012
19:33 GMT

The construct-image of K'ryssma nods.

"It is an experimental prototype. One of three. The other two are safely on Oa."

"Interesting." Hinon's construct looks genuinely interested. "I hadn't realised that the Guardians were still capable of that sort of creativity. Ganthet's work?"

K'ryssma hesitates, then appears to decide that there's no point lying to someone who can already make power rings.

"No. Guardian Meadlux was the designer. The project was suspended after his death, but his prototypes were preserved."

"And what was he trying to achieve? The core power ring design the Green Lantern Corps uses has been essentially unchanged since the Corps' inception."

"If you want to know that, you will have to speak with the Guardians."

"I may just do that. I take it that you don't have a captured Scarab somewhere to give them?"

"Why would I reward their theft?"

"Probably for the same reason that you haven't already attacked them. It costs you something -or could cost you something- and you want to avoid that." I turn to the holographic image of Kalmin. "Are you willing to trade your antithesis ring for this?"

"No. It's the last one I have, and it's a potent reminder of my fall from grace." He regards K'ryssma impassively. "Let the Green Lantern Corps cover its own debts."

"We don't have a Scarab, I assume?"

"Not an intact one, no. Clarissi Dox has a plan to remedy that situation, but at the moment it isn't worth the effort it would likely require. I'll have Dox increase fleet alertness on their likely egress routes in case the Reach do get their hands on it, but unless Meadlux became a great deal cleverer than I remember him being, it shouldn't be a problem for us even if the Reach are about to evacuate it."

I look at Lantern K'ryssma.

"Is there a reason why you're not attempting to reclaim it legally?"

"Information is traded here as readily as products and services. We do not want knowledge of the existence of this ring to spread further than it already has."

That sounds dubious. I mean, how much do most people actually know about power ring technology? The symbol is widely known, but if a Green Lantern turned up with a working ring that happened not to have it, would that actually bother anyone? I wouldn't have thought so, but then again I can't claim to have actually conducted any sort of survey.

"I am more interested in what these freebooters want in exchange for the Scarab."

"They seemed more interested in studying it than in trading it. I can only assume that they've got a research centre somewhere, because they all scanned as standard pattern humanoids and that ship isn't anything like advanced enough to get anything out of a Scarab."

"If the Reach get that ring then I have failed in my mission."

"Right, but while we'd like to help, you're not exactly giving us a lot of reasons to prioritise this. Frankly, an unowned Scarab is more useful to us than whatever good will we'd get for recovering a ring you can't admit to having lost in the first place. I mean…" I turn to Hinon. "Am I wrong there?"

"No, not that I can see."

"And-. Anyway, why can't you just recall it? Guy and Jordan can remote control their rings and they can't be that much better than you."

"The container they are storing it in disrupts remote control. And I would prefer to avoid breaking local law."

"And you're trying to get me to do it?"

I mean, between phasing, invisibility, and my arcane abilities I probably could. Heck, I could probably just make them want to hand it over. But K'ryssma is obviously hiding something-.

"Sorry, just had an attack of common sense. Goodbye, Lantern K'ryssma." I dismiss her construct image and cut communications. "Ring, call Lantern Jordan."

"Compliance."

My ring blinks for a few moments, then Jordan's face appears.

"What is it, Paul?"

"I'm on a planet called Yuna, and someone has recovered an odd-looking power ring from D'xe and is trying to-"

"What?"

"-sell it to the Reach. Know anything about it?"

"Damn it! Did you get the ring?"

"No. That's not really my job, and Honour Guard Green Lantern K'ryssma is being suspiciously cagey about the whole thing. Anything you can tell me that might make me want to help out?"

He shakes his head.

"I don't know much about them. Three Green Lanterns in good standing used them, and they all went crazy. I thought I got them all back to the Guardians, but I guess I missed one. What does it look like?"

"Plain ring with a diamond with a hole in it in place of the sigil."

He nods.

"Yeah, that's it. They told me at the time they weren't meant for deployment, so they don't have any security on them. No recall, no shutdown… The Reach can just hand them to a Scarab Warrior and they'll have the best of both worlds." He shakes his head. "I'll talk to the Guardians, find out exactly how many rings are still missing."

"Thank you, I appreciate it."

"Thank me by keeping that ring away from the Reach."

His face vanishes, and I turn to Hinon.

"The Reach can't use it to make new rings, right?"

"Without knowing exactly what Meadlux did, it's impossible for me to say. Reach citizens have the mental flexibility that their thralls lack. With a power ring, one of them might have the focus to create more. But you're the mortal with the best command of any colour I've seen, and you haven't been able to make a decent personal lantern yet. I doubt that we'll have to worry about them churning the wretched things out."

"How long until a fleet can get into position?"

"This would seem to require something a little more potent than a patrol fleet. I will speak with Dox at once."

I nod.

"And I'll try and keep the Negotiator busy. Let's find out how serious the locals are about mediation."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th August 2012
21:51 GMT

"Thank you both for agreeing to this."

The HCO woman is genuinely upbeat about this. I… I assumed that Yuna government officials are better informed than their citizenry. They… They must be better motivated. Surely? But as I sit in another conference room opposite the Negotiator and a couple of his aides, she appears to be completely genuine.

How can anyone possibly-?

I mean. Really?

"I only wish that something like this could have happened sooner."

The Negotiator looks at me like I just farted in the lift.

"It has been centuries since the Reach has waged an aggressive war, and we would have much preferred to-."

"It's the way you say it-" I grin. "-with a straight face. "

HCO raises her right hand with a nervous smile on her face.

"Please let the Amb-"

"Negotiator."

"-assador finish his opening remarks."

I shrug, then mime zipping my lips. The Negotiator waits a moment just to be sure.

"We would have much preferred to discuss any concerns our neighbours had with our expansion without resorting to force. The Illustres has personally intervened…"

I.. just tune him out. The locals I sort of understand. They clearly don't know why we hate the Reach. If it were a normal trade or territorial dispute, this sort of thing would genuinely be helpful. But who exactly is the Negotiator addressing here? There's no way he can expect to convince me, we've made sure that everyone in N.E.M.O. space is fully aware of what the Reach do, and he hardly needs to convince his fellow Reachians.

So… Is the posturing just automatic? Have I been wrong in assuming that they don't use neural reprofiling on themselves? Is he incapable of not saying this nonsense, no matter how pointless it is?

"…our hosts who have put us in this position."

The Negotiator smiles at HCO, who smiles politely back.

"Thank you-. Negotiator?"

"Negotiator is my official title within the civil service of the Reach, but I'm acting as an ambassador. Really, either is appropriate."

"Well, thank you. Illustres? Do you have something you want to say?"

I shake my head.

"I really don't know what to say. That speech gives me the impression that you genuinely don't know why we formed N.E.M.O., which is… Possible. Your superiors might have kept you in the dark intentionally. I'd.. be surprised, but it's not impossible. But if you do know, you must know that I know, so I have no idea who you think was going to care about any of what you just said."

He doesn't appear moved.

"But okay." I shrug. "Since your war with the Green Lantern Corps, the Reach has sworn off violent conquest. Or, rather, open acquisitive warfare. However, there's a difference between that and actually being peaceful."

I take a hologram projector out of subspace and put it on the table in front of me. A series of images flicker, then expand to fill my side of the room. Dozens of faces, all from different species.

"Maybe you don't recognise all of these. They're intelligent species whose territory was annexed by the Reach and who now either don't exist at all or hang on only in Controller-run refugee camps. Now, one might just have been evil and two… Well, accidents happen when you fiddle around with a biosphere. But this…"

I make a point of looking around at the images.

"This is an existential threat to every one of your surviving neighbours. And so, N.E.M.O., because no one wants to be added to this list. Because while you don't break the agreement you have with the Guardians, you're quite happy to alter the biology of your neighbours with chemistry, biotechnology and cybernetics until they're near-mindless thralls. And you don't even care enough about their service to keep them around for more than a couple of generations afterward. That's not just evil, that's lazy."

"N.E.M.O. initiated the first fleet-to-fleet engagement of the war. Actually, the first Reach fleet to be destroyed was actually destroyed by Grayven but I'm not trying to pass on blame there; we'd totally have done it if we'd jumped in-system a little closer. But the Reach had been covertly attacking worlds in what is now N.E.M.O. for as long as they'd been in contact with them. And… You know that, and you know that I know that. So if this meeting is actually going to get anywhere… Please, stop pretending. It's not even annoying, really. It's just stupid. This isn't a court. There's no neutral jury. There's no unconvinced party to impress. It's a mediation for two peoples who hate each other to maybe find an agreement they could accept."

"If you're going to engage in baseless slander-."

"Pointless."

I'm careful to let my eyes flare on that one. It doesn't really mean anything with me, but with a normal Orange Lantern it would indicate that they're about to go postal.

"Very well. I assume that you have demands. What are they?"

"The Reach will contract its territory: every world that has at least one surviving inhabitant will be released to them. The Reach will share all biological data on those species to allow them to repopulate. The Reach will contract its fleet to one tenth of its current size. The Reach will foreswear the use of and abandon all research into mental and social control technologies. You can have billboard adverts, that's it. The Reach will either hand over or execute individuals who were primarily responsible for known and unknown genocides, and provide data that allows for the identification of unknown individuals who were primarily responsible for known and unknown genocides."

"Execute or-? What would you do with them?"

"Assimilate them. Turn them into constructs. I'm allowing that as an option in case you'd prefer to be able to claim that it wasn't you who killed them."

"Ah." He nods. "How generous."

"In return, N.E.M.O. will offer a non-aggression pact and a free trade agreement, including free passage through N.E.M.O territory for any minimally armed civilian merchantman."

HCO perks up slightly. "You're inviting them to trade with you?"

"We don't have any objection to Reach business, just Reach evil. I imagine that continuing to allow them access to goods and services will make the transition easier on their end. We will also allow Reach citizens to apply to join the L.E.G.I.O.N., the Darkstars and the Orange Lantern Corps, under the same terms as N.E.M.O. citizens."

"You intend to annex us."

"But at least we're not going to murder your entire population." I lean back slightly. "So what do you want?"

"An immediate ceasefire, the abolition of your openly hostile military alliance and compensation for the losses we have already incurred due to your unwarranted and unprovoked aggression."

"No, no and no. Anything else?"

"In-."

"Anything sensible?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th August 2012
22:24 GMT

"…slightly difficult position, but most negotiations start like this."

I raise my eyebrows at the genuine-sounding commiseration coming from Miss Arfat, the High Council Office's representative. I.. don't particularly like working around a person who's genuinely helpful like this, but I like the idea of the Reach getting something we don't want them to have even less.

"I'm willing to give up particular pieces of territory… Even increase the limit on their military power. But the core principle of N.E.M.O. is that Reach expansion must stop. Several member worlds were in the process of being ground out of existence before the war started."

"Is it within the power of the maltusians to relocate them?"

"They can build new planets, yes. But they won't have the infrastructure or history, and that will… Probably result in their inhabitants wanting to take their original world back at some point. I don't think that will result in a lasting peace." I shake my head. "That's why I included that bit about them joining; to preserve peace by eliminating future points of conflict. 'They stole our home' isn't a narrative that lends itself to that."

"Have the maltusians relocated populations before?"

"Yes, and I could -grudgingly- tolerate letting the Reach keep worlds that they've already captured. Less grudgingly, I could accept them keeping worlds they've already settled. But giving them planets that we've liberated… I'd best see a lot of movement from them before I even consider that. I don't want to do it, and I don't think I could sell it to N.E.M.O. member worlds."

"But even if ratification proved difficult, would it not be better to have a ceasefire in place for the interim?"

"No, not really. We have the advantage and momentum at present, and we can show results to our members in return for the effort they're putting into the war. A ceasefire would see the Reach entrenching and shifting their economy over to full war production. I can't see us stopping while a peace treaty was debated unless it was significantly in our favour."

She nods slowly.

"I will keep that in mind. You.. mentioned earlier that some N.E.M.O. members just enjoyed war?"

"I think I said that there are always some. But if you're worried about them going after the Reach in violation of a peace treaty, don't be. It's a big universe and there's always a war going on somewhere. If they want new planets to settle it would be less hassle to take apart a gas giant only system and put together a new one than it would be to renew hostilities."

"Given that both the maltusians and the Reach have that technology, I struggle to understand how such hostilities could exist at all."

"Two answers to that. The obvious one is: we're fighting back because they keep attacking us. The other is: 'Some-"

My ring blinks.

"-men aren't looking for anything logical, like money. They can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn.'"

I smile and raise my ring to my left ear.

"Illustres?"

"Drusa. Have the negotiations ended?"

"No, we're just taking a little break. Why?"

"A Reach flotilla has appeared at the edge of the system and is asking for emergency transit."

"Hold on." I hold my hand out in front of me and project a construct image of Lantern Drusa's head. "Say that again."

"A Reach flotilla has appeared at the edge of the system and is asking for emergency transit."

"The Reach frequently trade here." Miss Arfat shakes her head in a pacifying manner. "There isn't anything untoward about ships arriving now. They will be directed to the opposite side of the planet to your ships, conduct their business and then leave."

"Did you know this flotilla was arriving in advance?"

"I-. I personally didn't. But-"

I stare through the wall at the Negotiator, empathic vision turned up. No, I'm not seeing anything that indicates an increase in confidence or joy. I frown slightly and turn in the direction… There it is, the Reach trade mission. Nothing much there either.

"-I'm sure that someone did."

"How many ships are we talking about?"

"One cruiser and four escorts. No cargo ships."

"No cargo ships?"

"Cruisers don't have a large internal volume. They might be carrying something small, but it seems unlikely."

"Well, a… Security measure, then. The Am-. Negotiator was concerned about your presence."

"The ships are moving."

"They got pilots already?"

"I didn't detect any going on board."

I give Miss Arfat my full attention.

"Would you mind terribly checking this? You might be right about the reason for their visit, but I've died twice due to being insufficiently cautious."

I have the ring put a map of the system in my head. Given the.. angles…

I create a construct shield covering the ceiling and the spinwards side of the room. Miss Arfat looks at it in concern, then grabs her communicator.

"Arfat, High Council's Office. Confirm my identity."

There's a short pause.

"Good. Do we have a border situation in relation to the incoming Reach ships? This is highest priori-"

Turquoise light appears on the far side of my shield, the building disintegrating around it! A beam weapon? A faster than light beam weapon?

"-tTTTTTTTYYYY!"

An instant later the beam cuts out, showing the line it blasted through the government office block we're meeting in and the.. three next to it.

"We're under attack! Where did that shot come from?!"

"Illustres, they fired-!"

"Yes, thank you. Hold on a moment. Miss Arfat?"

"Con-confirmed. The Reach vessel just tried to kill-. Killed-. Ah. Under the circumstances, N.E.M.O. assets are authorised to act against them."

I-.

"Just that group! We don't know that they're working with the Reach mission already on Yuna! This could be an internal dispute!"

"Alright then. Lantern Drusa, engage at your recognisance. Prioritise protecting our ships and then the planet. I'll be up shortly."

"Acknowledged."

Her construct disappears.

"Now let's go and ask the Negotiator what's going on."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th August 2012
22:28 GMT

"…doing, you off-mode writ-wrangler!?"

I lean closer to one of the Reach functionaries who was backing away from the irate Negotiator but didn't keep an eye on the door.

"Having trouble?"

She freezes up, not daring to respond. The Negotiator looks around, eyes wide, and then returns his attention to his communicator.

"And you didn't even manage to kill him!" … "Oh, and how is it better if he's a fake!? That just means they can all survive it!"

"Negotiator?"

"…that even-? No, my orders are clear. Die, and let your stupidity die with you." He deactivates his communicator, breathes in, straightens his robes, and then turns to me with a relaxed smile on his face. "It is my sad duty to inform you that the commanding officer of the gunboat that just entered your system is doing so in an ex-communial manner."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that they have gone beyond their authority and do not represent the Reach. You may-." He cranes his neck slightly to look at Miss Arfat. "Your government is fully empowered to dispose of them as you see fit."

"What's this actually about? I thought you'd at least wait-."

"Can you at least credit us with being cunning enough not to shoot through four buildings on an unaligned world?"

…

"I suppose that I can."

"Yes, yes." Miss Arfat looks at me. "Given the known capacities of-."

The roof evaporates, the second shot being blocked from hitting us by my construct barrier. As the light dies the damage-. There were six floors above us and it's gone right through, a crater about eight metres across having been blasted down until it hit my shield.

"CAPACITIES of Reach warships, the Yuna government authorises the forces of N.E.M.O. to undertake hostile action under an Extraordinary Contract."

"Thank you."

I add a crosshairs to my visual field, centred on the cruiser that's taking the shots.

"Back soon."

I fly upwards and then warp, my passage jerking and then stabilising as the still active interdiction systems shut down. Space snaps back as I reach high orbit, the ships around me making best speed away from where they are.

"Illustres to Lantern K'ryssma, in your own time."

Can't really risk flying at faster than light speed right up to a Reach ship, but a low warp will take me to them at-

My construct shield lights up with turquoise fury, which dies a few moments later.

-a reasonable pace. Okay, they put an FTL gun on a cruiser. It's not that big and it's not that powerful, which is why they don't usually do this sort of thing. Why are they still shooting at me? Possibility one:-

I fire a series of lightspeed energy pulses at them. If they've got FTL sensors -and they should- then I might get a lucky hit. But for the most part I want to keep their attention on me and off the unshielded planet and lightly protected ships.

-they're trying to take my shield down with sustained fire. Not a terrible idea in the ordinary run of things, but their ship is undergunned and I'm me. Possibility two, the ship's on autopilot to shoot me. Or the people on board have stupid orders they're not willing to ignore.

"Drusa?"

"We're not all as fast as you, Illustres. I was needed to shield our ships against their escorts."

"Fair enough. Are they dead?"

"Three are. I've lost track of the fourth."

"Notify the Yuna Defence Force and keep your eyes open. I've got the cruiser."

"As you wish."

Standard Reach communication protocols.

Compliance.

"You in the cruiser. Surrender and live on as organic beings. Resist and I will assimilate you. You have five seconds now."

Okay, scans of the cruiser… I did get a couple of hits. Looks like I breached their hull. That… Shouldn't have happened. Standard shields would-. They didn't have standard shields. FTL weapons take a lot of power, but… That doesn't sound right. I mean, if this is their first cruiser with an FTL weapon they might not have finalised the design. I might be such a juicy target that they thought that the chance to off me was worth a few ships. Lucky me.

Unlucky them.

Empathic vision-. Oh. There are minds on board, but they've had their thought processes messed around with in a fairly brute force sort of way. I doubt that they're Reachians, but it should only take me-

I block another shot.

-a few moments to find out for certain.

A volley of crumbler rounds punches through their weak… Environmental barrier, not even a weak military force field. Chunks of their fore gun vanish, and ring scans show it lose power. Right, interdiction field generators are usually there in that hull type… I'm close enough that I can fire orange beams and reliably pierce the hull and puncture them.

I increase the degree to which I'm warping space, and then the ship is there just in front of me. In a pretty sorry state, but the hull is largely in one piece. I draw back my shield so that it just protects me… Looks like they gave up on point defences as well, but that's no reason to take stupid risks. Locate the crew, send out the filaments-.

Two go out as they kill themselves, but I connect to the other seven just in time. Undermanned for a ship-

"Identity theft in progress."

-of this class. I'm convinced that the Negotiator on Yuna genuinely didn't know, but someone put work into this.

"Identity theft complete."

I pull my thralls into my ring… Ugh. Simplified thought processes. I can't even see who gave them their orders. I'll check the computer-.

"K'ryssma to Illustres. I need help!"

I turn in space, looking for the emerald glow-.

There are two of them. And they're fighting near the location of the Free Lancers' ship. Marvellous.

I warp, the intervening space vanishing into nothing as I pull my barrier around me as construct armour. If we've eliminated ships as a threat, that leaves either a Lantern -and if one of the Free Lancers has put the ring on I'm not helping- or a Scarab. Or-.

A green blast destabilises my warp and knocks me back into normal space, the ring-wielding Scarab Warrior pointing her new ring at me.

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th August 2012
22:31 GMT

"Have-?"

My construct shield intercepts her construct beam, the shot decaying into green sparks as my barrier holds strong. Curious. That doesn't happen when I block shots from Earth's Green Lanterns.

"Have we met?"

Her armour glows green as her left arm morphs into a blade with a green edge.

"I ask-"

She disappears. Jam transitions, toss interdictors out of subspace and into local space, empathic vision-

"-because-"

-and there, x-ionised sword and parry as she phases back in, construct railgun loaded with phasic rounds and fire.

"-if you're just-"

Her sword is turned aside but she tracks my gun construct and shapeshifts reinforced armour. My phasic rounds aren't great against Scarab armour and fail to penetrate, prompting me to change my gun into a multi-barrel affair.

"-here to-"

Her sword morphs into a battering ram with a glowing green diamond head as she rushes me.

"-pick up-"

I re-aim my gun as I dart aside, sword coming down on the side of her arm just ahead of the crumbler round.

"-the ring-"

Sword hits first and the reinforced armour takes it. Crumbler round hits a fraction of a second later, causing the armour to ripple as the reinforcement fails.

"-then you-"

I swing my sword at her face while my gun trains itself on her chest.

"-could-"

She twists, limboing under my swing and phasing out.

"-just-"

Which means that when the phasic round hits, she reappears a few metres away with a noticeable hole in her flank.

"-have asked-"

Two construct pneumatic rams appear on either side of me and surge towards me.

"-nicely?"

I twist, crumbler hat and boots appearing and causing her constructs to break themselves around me.

"We-"

That causes me to lose my gun construct and it looks like the backlash from having a construct disrupted doesn't do anything to a Scarab Warrior. Mildly disappointing but not all that surprising.

"-wouldn't-"

Be nice to get that ring, and extra nice if we could finally get a Scarab to study.

"-try to-"

Orange light flares in all direction, radiating not just from me but from every sentient being for hundreds of miles

which in practice means her and maybe one of the closer ships

as their desires are redoubled and then redoubled again as they're forced to experience every desire they've ever had. It doesn't matter to us at all but for someone using a green ring we know full well that experiencing emotions like this is quite disabling. We-.

Alert!

I warp down as space distorts in a straight line between her shifted right hand and my former position. Not a singularity weapon, but something not too far from it. That's the nice thing about shapeshifting body weapons: you don't need perfect emotional balance to use them.

Ring, message Lantern K'ryssma and ask her where she is.

Compliance.

A barrage of pulse plasma shots slam into my construct armour, but that's not-.

"-stop you-"

I use a magnetron construct to deflect the grains of anti-matter she just fired at me, then fire a solid slug from my new railgun construct to detonate them once they're a little further away.

"-because-"

Two construct guns open fire with a mix of phasic rounds and crumblers.

"-it's not-"

She warps-.

Quash.

She shudders as the gravitational shear and x-rays tear at her armour and the body beneath it and that's why we don't do short FTL hops in combat! My shots hit home, the phasic rounds keeping her honest while the crumblers actually make progress abrading her armour.

"A power ring doesn't magically fix inadequacy. Stand down."

Her armour grows in response, additional thrusters appearing on her arms and legs as she spirals in an evasive pattern. It's not enough to dodge all of my shots, but she dodges enough that her armour manages to regenerate a little more.

But I watch carefully and crumbler and assimilate!

Four thick orange strands attach themselves to her armour, orange light flaring. I don't think that the self destruct will take the novelty ring with it, but if it does I doubt that the Green Lanterns will care. They mostly just want to keep-

She flares with green light.

Connection lost.

-it-.

Ah-right.

She generates a chain construct and I stop cocking about. A giant orange beam smashes into her, eradicating her construct, twisting and breaking her thrusters and knocking her back at considerable speed.

A volley of phasic rounds just in case, then a series of shots of focused wounding intent which pierce her armour in three places, blood spurting out before freeze-boiling in the vacuum.

And then she forms a gun and fires a volley at the planet below us.

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th August 2012
22:32 GMT

Point defence constructs appear behind me, tiny pellets of matter firing at high speed to intercept what is almost certainly-. The anti-matter plasma detonates the moment the matter intersects with it. I didn't get the quantities quite right, but that should disperse it enough that it merely makes a large blast when it hits the atmosphere-proper. She tries taking a shot directly at me, but constructs don't contain matter and it's simple enough to contain it in a construct vessel.

Then my construct shears cut her gun off at the elbow.

She's still glowing, so I guess the gun was-.

The explosion washes over me, whatever anti-matter was still in the gun losing containment! The radiation isn't much of a problem, and there's no shockwave in space, but my construct armour has a few cracks in it by the time the energy wave passes over me. Nothing like the detonation of a power ring, so I'm assuming that she's wearing it somewhere-.

I'm assuming that she was wearing it somewhere else.

It looks like between the hole made by her arm-stump, the holes I punched and the fact that she was much closer than me to the detonation… She's somewhat cooked. Still alive -if barely- but not in any condition to actually fight. The gun arm… Yeah, a containment breach. Can't have been much anti-matter, because the arm is still recognisably arm-shaped.

This is an opportunity.

The host is in a coma, while the Scarab itself is at least somewhat active. It should be possible for me to remove it chirurgically as it looks like it's been forced into shutdown while still being functional enough that we could gain useful intelligence from it. I can't risk assimilating it, but...

Hm.

I could try altering its desires indirectly with orange light manipulation. I haven't tried that yet, and they might not be designed to self-destruct when I do that. I don't think that the Reach have any experience with that technique.

The armour is slowly growing back over the holes. I think that's an automatic thing, but just in case…

No. Just get the ring. There are other Scarabs.

The green light is at its most intense in the middle of her chest, behind the strongest part of her armour. Makes sense, but a precise application of crumbler probes there and there, and a small x-ionised blade…

Another spray of vaporised blood and the ring comes free, along with a chunk of armour and… Genetic scan? Modified duthellian tissue. Probably not a volunteer, then. Probably as brain dead as the ship crew. The ring looks about as it did in its former display case, though now it's got a little more of a glow to it.

I raise my right hand.

Come to me.

The ring gleams and begins drifting my way-

"Illustres?"

-while the Scarab Warrior's armour bulges with shifting armour plates and semi-organic cables. I think the Scarab is trying to bypass the damaged tissue, but they're not really intended to work like that. I let the ring settle onto my right ring finger, the environmental shield fighting against my orange one for a moment before being put in its place.

"Illustres here. Are you in one piece, K'ryssma?"

"I will heal. Do you have the ring?"

"Yes."

I look at the new ring on my finger. Guy let me fiddle with his ring a grand total of once. I could… Sort of make constructs, but they were… Not great. Abstract mental focus isn't a skill I've really developed. Still, I can manage a basic-.

Warning! Unnatural Mental Influence detected!

A rotating cube construct that… Agh, every cube in my-. Off off off!

The cube vanishes in a puff of green.

I look down at the ring.

Before I left, the Green Lantern comics were… Increasingly showing the Guardians as… Dodgy. The Alpha Lanterns were the worst thing I remember them intentionally doing… I don't know. I haven't gotten the impression that the local Guardians are like that. But… Larfleeze exists here. So they've been lying about that. Hinon confirmed that the Massacre of Sector 666 happened.

And this ring just tried to hotwire my brain into making better constructs. Better green constructs.

"Yes, I've got it."

How trusting do I feel right now? I mean, K'ryssma hasn't been particular honest with me about what's going on, and… Frankly, the Guardians abdicated any responsibility regarding the Reach when they signed their treaty. And I… Really don't want to have to deal with Guardians in evil mode. This ring looks like something that could end up taking them in some very unpleasant directions. But they've already got the technology anyway, and making an issue out of this might worsen relations between our organisations. I should probably-.

"And I'm sending it to Maltus. Invite the Guardians to address any complaints to the Controllers, and remind them that a little honesty goes a long way."

"That is not yours to take."

I look at it. I could make it orange, but that might damage it.

"The Controllers gave the ship back, didn't they? I put the work in, so I'm claiming the reward. If you want my help in future, start by being honest. End."

I look around local space. Doesn't look like the Reach shot at anything not on the planet's surface.

"Illustres to Lantern Drusa. Cruiser and Scarab Warrior neutralised. Please secure the remains of the Reach ships in the hold of one of our cargo ships. Dump other cargo if you have to; those are going to L.E.G.I.O.N. intelligence."

"And the Scarab?"

I generate a construct chirurgical unit, blades at the ready. I've seen our data on removing Scarabs, and… It's never been done entirely successfully. If I keep her alive I could have our wizards take a stab at it, but I think that's taking an unnecessary risk. Find the Scarab, find the Scarab… Ah, they actually put it in the skull rather than on the upper spine this time, how creative. Crumble the built-up armour around the head, insert construct nutrient feeds into the brain…

Good.

Take a snapshot of the brain. They might… Would they have had to leave this one a bit more compos mentis than the others? Not sure. Examining Scarab Warriors post mortem is always a little difficult. The Darkstars didn't bother trying to keep them in one piece before I arrived, and it hasn't become more of a priority now that they theoretically can.

Three, two, stab and shield!

And I have a brain. The Scarab should register the host's death a second later, but if I use an animation suspension-.

The Scarab atomises.

Though I'm pleased to note that a lot of the armour stays in one piece this time. Too badly damaged to fully self-destruct? Worth knowing.

Next step, then. These remains and this brain go onto a cargo ship in the most secure storage unit I can build, then I'm heading back to the planet to do some arm twisting.

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th August 2012
22:39 GMT

"…that the Reach has disavowed any-."

"Good." I fly in through the hole shot in the office building where our peace talks have been taking place. "Because you weren't getting your money's worth."

The Negotiator appears to take my reappearance in his stride, though whether that's because he was confident I would win anyway or because he would have been in more political difficulty if the people he disavowed had I'm not sure. Miss Arfat on the other hand flutters her eyelids in what for the gyuanite is an expression of profound relief.

"They are dead?"

"The ships we detected and the scarab warrior accompanying them are all destroyed. I took some of the crew as constructs but there's little going on in their minds. There'll be no point in interrogating them."

She nods. "Salvage rights are of course awarded to your people, and a monetary sum will be deposited in your account to reflect the harm you have avenged."

"Thank you, but-" I give the Negotiator a hard look. "-until I know who actually ordered this, I can hardly count the job as completed."

"Rest assured that the Reach will deal with this off-mode element internally. Compensation will be paid to the families of the victims of this counter-canon mission." His eyes move to my right hand. "I see that you recovered the ring."

"No. I salvaged it. You're certainly not getting it."

"We never 'had' it. As I stated, the individuals behind the operation were doing so contrary to standing rules of process. Do you wish to continue these negotiations, or do you consider your mission here to be complete?"

It.. sort of is. I mean, I imagine that between my reassurances, my actions just now and their own anti-interventionist tendencies that the locals will be grateful enough to maintain our current relationship. And having a Reach ship kill a large number of non-combatants isn't going to endear the Reach to the people of Yuna. I only started talking as a distraction, so…

I shrug nonchalantly.

"Since we're both here. You know the Reach. Your culture already changed massively when you negotiated your treaty with the Green Lantern Corps, and I imagine that there were a lot of Reach military officers who didn't like that. Is that something your people would do again? Could they do it again? Is there… Any chance that N.E.M.O. could get anything like an acceptable deal in our current situation?"

"At this time I think it unlikely that the Hivemasters will be willing to accept the terms you proposed."

"Thank you! A straight answer!" I shrug. "But then there probably isn't any point." I nod to Miss Arfat. "Thank you for trying. In the unlikely event that we attempt a negotiated solution again, I'll be sure to come back here. I'll be available to your government for the next seven days in order for us to formalise our ongoing trading relationship, but under the circumstances… I think that a.. recess is in order."

She nods.

"I will make the necessary arrangements."

I nod, raise my index and middle fingers to my forehead and then do a regular transition to the spaceport landing platform which the Free Lancers are using.

The place is somewhat shot up, indentations and scorch marks in the super hard surface marking where the Scarab Warrior unleashed her arsenal. Or… I suppose it could have been Lantern K'ryssma; I don't have any information on what sort of constructs she prefers.

"Blimey."

Harrow purses his lips as he strolls out of his ship's force field envelope and takes a look around.

"Glad I kept my nose out of that one." He looks at me. "Is she still alive, by any chance?"

"Yes."

"Oh, good show! Since you've clearly gotten the ring I'm not too worried about you, but the Green Lantern Corps get a bit narked when one of them dies."

"This…" I raise my right hand. "Was what the Reach wanted?"

"The local Negotiator is my usual contact. They've been on the lookout for things that can fight Lanterns for a while now." He wrinkles his nose. "They don't usually use a Scarab to handle things."

"So you didn't get paid?"

"What?" He looks bemused. "Of course I didn't get paid. The Reach are usually really good about paying independent contractors, but when someone goes rogue it's tough luck. Not like I expect you to give it to me."

"Good, because I'm not going to."

"No. Interesting you didn't give it to that Green Lantern, though."

"There are some issues to work out on inter-Corps cooperation. And on that subject, if you should come across anything the Reach would be interested in, we're happy to counter-bid."

"I will certainly bear that in mind, Illustres. I thank you in advance for your future custom."

I nod. "I'd say that I'm sympathetic for your loss…"

"But that would be a lie." He shrugs. "The price of doing business. We price it in."

"I'm sure that attitude has helped you immensely in your chosen career. Farewell."

I raise my fingers to my forehead once more and transition again, this time reappearing next to Lantern Drusa inside our trade mission building.

"Illustres."

"Everything packed up?"

"Yes." She nods. "And they had offloaded enough cargo that we didn't need to dump anything." Her eyes alight on the ring. "Is that it?"

I hold it up. "Yes. Though I wouldn't recommend trying to use it. It does something to boost the strength of constructs. It wasn't a problem for me, but I doubt that would be the case for most people."

"What do you intend to do with it? Keep it?"

"No. Ring, contact Controller Hinon."

"Compliance."

Her face appears almost immediately.

"Yes?"

"I've got the ring. I assume that you want to take a look at it?"

"That would be pleasant. Meadlux wasn't involved in early power ring adaptation efforts. It could be instructive to see what he considered to be an 'improvement'." She regards me for a moment. "I hope you didn't have to tread on too many toes to get hold of it?"

"Not too many. See you in a week."

 

[Mr Zoat]

13th August 2012
12:51 GMT

"Ships?" Alonzo looks at me with an expression of concern. "I thought that you were building your own?"

I nod. "We are. But I've recently found that we're in a situation that means we need more ships a little faster than I thought we did."

"Is someone.. invading Vega? And you think they've got enough force that they can beat you?" I nod. "Who, the Spiders?"

"Another version of myself, leading a fleet of gordanians."

"Another-?" He shakes his head. "A.. clone-?"

"I don't know. My father might have cloned me, but I'm reluctant to ask him due to him paying us more attention being far worse than anything else that could happen."

Alonzo purses his lips.

"You..? Ah. Don't suppose-?"

"What, that I'm the clone?" I shrug. "Could be. It's not something I intend to be sensitive about if it's true. Whatever he and I share, we're both our own men now. If either of us even is a clone. For all I know DeSaad cut us in half at some point and then regrew the missing halves."

He blinks.

"Can your people do that?"

"With the right equipment. I mean, with the right equipment so could you-."

"But my other half isn't coming to Vega with a fleet. And boom tubes, I assume."

"Oh, he's definitely got boom tubes. Don't know if he's got hush tubes or not, but that just means that you'd have twenty seconds notice rather than none." I fan out my right hand. "Now, there is an argument that you shouldn't help me. The other Grayven has no personal vendetta against you, and if you surrender promptly might even leave you in charge of Euphorix. If you chose to take that route I'll try obfuscating where the Euphorians working for me came from, but ultimately I don't know how like me he is. He might want to do something more extreme to emphasise his domination, and even if he doesn't he might want to appoint his own governor."

"But you'll leave us to it."

"I don't have time to do anything else. I'm already making unfavourable agreements to get what I need to stop him-. Incidentally, that's involved giving power rings to Pren and Kalista."

"What?"

"That was what Oswin wanted in exchange for his help. I don't think they can brute force your shield with them-" A safe assumption given that they can barely fly at the moment. "-but if they were so inclined it would make finding a way to bypass it much easier. And of course you've lost plausible deniability on the Euphorians already working for me. The Queen knows that you know that the Citadel is gone."

"That's… Unfortunate…" He leans back. "Ah, I suppose it was inevitable. She's an intelligent woman."

"Apparently, the Omega Men had been passing intelligence to the Crown Imperium for years."

"So now the Crown Imperium wants a compliant puppet ruler."

"A local ally who isn't frantically trying to rebuild their world. I doubt that Kalista would accept being a puppet, but I also doubt that the relationship would be one of equals."

"And you want our ships."

"I know that Euphorix had a fleet. I know that you didn't use it when Tamaran was conquered, which means that you either sent it to the breakers' yard when you cashiered your naval personnel, or you mothballed it. Since I'm already employing a large proportion of your old navy, manning the ships isn't a problem. So the question is, do you still have them, and what do you want for them?"

"I should probably start with a power ring."

"Okay, orange power rings make people insane. I don't care what happens to Pren or Kalista and the Tamaraneans can mostly handle it. You want one? Fine, but make sure that your will is up to date because if you flip out I will appoint your successor myself, and I will publicise that it happened."

He frowns.

"Insane how?"

"They condition you to act on your desires. All of them, all the time. And they amp the intensity of those desires up-."

He's already nodding. "Tamaranean, yes, yes. But you manage it."

"I'm a god. My nature is written into the structure of the universe."

"I'm not some substitious cargo cultist; I know perfectly well that's not how gods work."

"We call ourselves 'New Gods' because when we come into our full power we take an attribute of the Source into ourselves. We don't emerge from the Dream or the thaumosphere of a particular world. We work everywhere." Ah. "You do know that the Source exists, right?"

"I'm aware of a set of phenomena that some people refer to as being the work of a supreme divine being, certainly."

I wave my right hand and shake my head. "I couldn't tell you if it's actually self-aware or not, but it's powerful and it shares a portion of that power with us. If one of your magicians tried altering me with magic, the spell would probably fail. That's testable, but if you want to study me in detail I'd rather-."

"Yes, this isn't the time for a theological debate. So I'd be taking my sanity into my own hands. But if I don't, Kalista will be a war heroine twice over and I won't."

"Or she'll be dead or insane. Look, if you're worried about losing your job I'm perfectly happy to give you a new one. If you want to keep control of Euphorix, now's the time to begin transitioning to a different government structure."

He frowns. "Like what?"

"Ah, there are a number of countries on my adopted homeworld where the monarch is in theory head of state but all actual political power rests in another office. You not being regent any more wouldn't be a problem if you… Were Prime Minister in a set up where that office wasn't dependent on the monarch's approval."

"No, the nobility would never accept it."

"Simple then: establish a deliberative body and give each noble family a single seat. If they gain power themselves, they're less likely to complain about you gaining some as well."

"If I have to get their approval for everything, that's never going to work."

"And they'll realise that, and won't complain about some powers being invested in the executive. You'll have less power than you do now, but you'll have Kalista-proofed it. Let's be honest: she never exactly had her finger on the pulse, did she?"

He considers that for a moment.

"You want ships?"

"I want ships."

He taps on his computer, bringing up the relevant files.

"We broke up some of them, and turned a few others into museums. But the rest are sitting in a military depot in our driest desert, just in case we needed them again. We're maintaining them, but they will need a once-over before you fly them away-. I assume that you'll be removing them by boom tube?"

I nod. "I've got a macro tube generator in my home base."

"But people will notice them going. There are already questions about the disappearance of so many veterans."

"What do people think has happened?"

"The most pervasive rumour is that I'm getting ready to follow Queen Kalista to war-." He sniffs. "Which is probably what I'm going to have to do if I want to secure my position. What are you offering?"

"I was assuming a free trade and mutual defence treaty, but I can throw in a share of salvage and colonisation rights."

He nods.

"We can negotiate a fair price when we know more about what I can actually provide. Let me talk to some people. You'll get your ships."

He sighs.

"And we're finally going to war."

 

[Mr Zoat]

20th August 2012
08:12 GMT

"Oh, is that all."

I can't help but sag slightly as Hinon studies the novel ring floating above her right hand.

"Not that interesting?"

"Aside from possibly implying that Guardian Meadlux was intending to have children, no. Do you want one like it in orange? I know you were used to having two rings."

"Children?"

"Yes? We were once what you would call 'standard pattern humanoids'. We customarily reproduced in the standard fashion. I myself remain perfectly capable of having children."

"You told me that you don't have children 'to give the rest of us a chance'."

"A slightly flippant but essentially accurate answer. But maltusian children are extremely energy-intensive to raise. With a human infant a human parent must worry about protecting it from the environment as it will die if it becomes too hot or too cold. Maltusian infants have the power of we adults but not our hard-won control. Or our experience."

I nod.

"I can see why that sort of power in the hands of a baby could be a problem. Particularly on a world where not everyone is as tough as you."

"Socially, the difference in experience was probably a more significant factor. Creating a crèche world would hardly be a great trial for us. We spoke of the vast difference in life experience between you and I?"

"Yes."

"If you sired a child, then within thirty years they would be nearly as old as you are now. And I imagine that you would expect them to be mentally more or less on your level by then. Humans tend to begin losing their faculties in their… Seventies?"

"It.. varies, but yes, at that age, without this ring, I would expect to be physically and mentally less capable."

"We never do. But our children are only as experienced as yours would be. Thirty or forty years is an easily bridgeable gulf. A million? A maltusian child born now would have more in common with you."

"Are.. you.. coming on to me?"

"No, but if I ever completely take leave of my senses, I may call upon your services as a childminder."

I grin.

"You know, I'm actually up for that. So… This ring: it's just the maltusian equivalent of stabilisers on a child's bike?"

"That's the base he was working from. The design which allows younger races like yours to use the glow grew from that, but it seems that he went back to the original and tried a different approach." She shakes her head and slips the ring into her robes. "There were perfectly good reasons why we didn't take this approach the first time around, but perhaps he thought that he could do a better job of it."

"You worked on the first power rings?"

"No, as I said, the first rings were made as tools for the education of our children. I worked on the adaptation of that technology, which became a good deal more important once the Manhunters proved themselves so unreliable."

"Who was it that programmed them again?"

She looks at me, mildly affronted.

"Don't look at me. The only part I played in that was to approve a trial run. If I'd been running the project, there would have been a Guardian on-site to monitor them."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that you were personally at fault."

She looks away again.

"Don't mention it."

"I've always been a bit puzzled about how that happened. I mean, I don't always agree with the Guardians' decisions, but setting loose an army of robots without any monitoring, with programming that could lead them to conclude that killing every living thing in a Space Sector was a reasonable thing to do… That suggests incompetence, and that's not something I associate the Guardians with."

"I never got a straight answer either. The Guardians involved seemed to be… We don't really do bewildered, but the next best thing, about the whole issue."

"Other Guardians."

"Given that that was the day I left, I think I can reasonably exclude myself."

"Alright. So: the ring. Why did it make those Green Lanterns act up?"

"As you know, the Guardians elected to use the green light due to the fact that out of all of the colours it has the least effect on the mind of the user. 'Least' isn't the same as 'none'."

"Right, but in a normal Lantern it's barely noticeable."

"Thank you. It's nice that my efforts are appreciated. This ring rather does away with all of the safeties."

"Because why would children need those?"

"Maltusian children don't need the same sort of safeties that younger species do. A normal power ring uses its colour at several steps removed. The light itself, the Central Power Battery, the Personal Lantern and then finally the ring. Dealing with any of the lights directly exposes a mind to everything about that emotion, not merely that emotion as it exists in the user's mind."

"And that's what that ring does?"

"No, but it's closer to that than is a good idea for mortal Lanterns."

"How about for me?"

"Oh, you could certainly use it. I'm just not convinced that you would still be you afterwards. You recall what you were like while merged with the Ophidian?"

I frown.

"Yes, but I still knew the difference between our desires and the desires of the people around me."

"Do you want to forget that?"

"No, that sounds like a bad idea. I assume the stabiliser ring didn't have that functionality?"

"No, they predate our use of the glow. The similarity is more or less incidental."

"Would they work for someone else? Say, if Lantern Gardner wanted to bond with Ion without being overwhelmed?"

"Not… Exactly, though it could help him if Ion merely volunteered to augment him. Why?"

"Oh, just asking in case." I smile at her. "Thank you, Controller Hinon. I need to go and report to Dox."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Onslaught

20th August 2012
15:22 GMT

Xor is impassive as I look down at what was once the Alignment's largest military prison.

"Were they all on trumped up charges like you?"

"Many. Not all. We do not adapt well. We have a place for them. Those who were simply-" He sneers. "-evil, I killed."

"Good show. How are things back on the homeworld?"

"Anarchic. They eat one another in their panic." He hesitates. "Not literally."

"You get to a point like this, and I honestly have trouble working out how they got this far."

"Momentum, and the sacrifice of souls worthier than theirs."

I nod.

"Have you planned for the aftermath?"

"No. Onigar and her friends are planning for the aftermath. I know my strengths."

I nod. Fair enough. He's only in his teens.

"So what do you see yourself doing once the fighting is over?"

"I see myself becoming High Tribune, because that is what she has told me that I should do. I think I will like it."

I nod, and then frown as I stare into space.

"So are they actually coming, or-?"

The Alignment's fleet flashes-. Ah, no, I'm too used to L.E.G.I.O.N.'s way of doing things, the sort of precision a fleet dreamed up by a coluan and a Weaponer can muster. A handful of destroyers flash into normal space. Then there's a pause. Then a battleship. Then a couple of cruisers. Then it… Basically stops.

"On your word, Lantern Xor."

"We wait until their flagship appears."

The ships move, repositioning themselves into something approaching a combat formation. Xor's people had mostly been operating as a paramilitary organisation. Heh, with an interesting twist. Xor's fixation with justice has led to them singling out particularly malfeasant state agents and publicising their misdeeds. And usually killing them in public. Which has led to the Alignment government running into a problem that they can't deal with: control of all data networks means nothing when you're fighting against someone with a power ring. Most people aren't violently rebelling, but…

The ruling regime has finally hit an approval rating of zero.

It reminds me a little of Kahndaq, actually. By the end, there wasn't any question that Adom would be ruling the country. Even the soldiers of the army he defeated… Those who he didn't tear apart, didn't really try and resist him taking political authority. When that happens, people will rally around whoever the opposition is. And that's something else the Alignment doesn't know how to deal with. Whereas before they would send Warhounds after groups that got too organised, now they've lost almost all of those Warhounds to those groups. The regular fleet and army are still apparently following orders, but opposition groups win those fights on the ground and they're not quite ready to bombard their own industrial planets from orbit.

Or rather, they can't risk the fleet refusing to obey the order. Because as… Someone in the Honor Harrington series said, fleets are commanded by people. People who don't want to be shot dead by their own marines, or hanged by the incoming government while the population cheers.

Another cluster of destroyers appear, along with a… Battle cruiser? Ah, they're selecting ships for political loyalty. And to be fair, there's probably enough firepower coming to kill Xor. His people have been avoiding going directly against the Alignment fleet for the practical reason that they don't have the ships. But with Xor openly seizing control of Industrial Penal Colony A-17 the Alignment had to do something.

"This is the colony they were sending you to, right?"

"Onigar said it was poetic. It feels right to me as-"

Three battleships appear at the rear of the fleet. All gunboats, because with the Alignment's all-lightspeed weapon setup and high speed there's little point using carriers. The battleship on the left…

"-well. We attack."

We're both already moving as he gives the order, light speed rapid-traverse turrets mounted on all of the ships of the Alignment fleet sending flicking beams through space to try and catch us. It takes them seconds to reach us and at the speeds we can move that almost guarantees a miss. Against a Green Lantern it might work because Green Lantern doctrine emphasises holding your ground and that makes them easier to hit. It's not a terrible idea against a small fleet and when the Lantern in question is acting in a policing capacity, as it demonstrates the Lantern's strength and desire to avoid destruction. But since we're resolved to kill most of these people it doesn't really work for us.

The battleships are targeting IPC A-17 with their main guns, but we've already evacuated the settlements. Including the guards, as Lantern Xor found the idea of punishing people unjustly to be completely revolting. They'll fire, and in a couple of hours what little biosphere the planet has will be largely destroyed.

But the fight here will be over in minutes and intercepting the shots won't be any great challenge.

First a quick check that the people on the flagship have this coming. Mm, mostly, which is about as good as we're going to get. This isn't the Citadel Complex. These people are free-willed, and while many of them could be reformed it's equally true that many of them could have chosen to live different lives.

Xor is already heading for the fleet, orange pulses flying towards the ships agile enough to do anything meaningful. I go for speed instead, jinking my way around the larger ships' arc of fire as I head for the flag ship. Railguns appear, targeting the shields on the largest ships. The Alignment tend to use bubble shields, so they're a little stronger than area defence shields but when they go down…

Respect to their gunnery computers, they manage to intercept quite a lot of my shots. Since I'm closing the distance the to-target time is dropping to the point where they are actually hitting me, but that's what the construct armour with the reflective coating is for. They can't switch their whole fleet to focused orange beams without doing a lot more work than they have shipyards for, so while I'm not getting complacent…

Crumbler rounds get through and shield envelopes start collapsing, though I avoid hitting the flagship just yet. Those shields need to stay up for this to work. Xor takes advantage by firing beams of orange light at the newly exposed ships, but I settle for sniping their sensors. That should make their fire less accurate… Slightly, anyway.

"Final approach."

The flag ship is evading with commendable speed given its mass, but it's not exactly Lantern-fast. I target main engines

step out

and appear up the bridge, beams of orange light piercing the heads of each of the officers on duty. A construct fortress door appears in front of each of the points of egress, and then a Dominator portal generator appears out of subspace.

Fascinating devices. And the Khundian I bought that computer core from was right about them being rather proactive about the defence of their intellectual property. But the generators aren't that easy to detect remotely, especially at infantry scale. Dominators don't use them in this way; they're just as squishy as the rest of us and prefer long ranged combat. But since our infantry is tough enough to survive passage through a portal which liberally douses them with exotic radiation, why not use it?

Warhounds storm out onto the bridge of the only capital ship in the fleet that still has functioning shields. The first four stand guard at the cardinal points, then the next wave of older and more experienced Warhounds come through and take the bridge stations, tossing the still-warm corpses aside.

The one at the command station is one of Lantern Xor's first recruits, and he smiles as the computer acknowledges his stolen command codes.

"Target the battleships and open fire."

 

[Mr Zoat]

20th August 2012
15:26 GMT

Due to their focus on speed and manoeuvrability, Alignment warships tend to skimp on armour. They're not fragile per se, as their generators are more than powerful enough to maintain a strong shield bubble as well as power their drives and weapons. However, their doctrine calls for a strategic withdrawal before their shields get anywhere near the point of collapse. Our neighbours are attempting to do that even now, but battleship-fast isn't fast in any absolute sense.

Which means that when our main guns turn starboard, target amidships and fire, the side of the closest battleship melts.

External kibble evaporates, metal and ceramic plates vaporise and capacitors explode as the ship sags and shifts sideways. Hurriedly refocused sensor arrays on our ship show systems on the opposite side of the wound from the main generators start losing power, and the bubble shield won't re-engage without the emitters that are now either molten or without power. Local generators are designed to power thrusters and point defences, so a lot of that ship is now mission killed.

Fire is coming back at us, but our shield is easily strong enough to cope with it. The main guns from the other battleships are the only things out there that can hurt us quickly, and Lantern Xor is targeting them individually. The main threat to us is already on this ship, in the form of the crew who are probably a bit curious about why we're shooting at an ally.

A Warhound marine detail comes through the portal next, their leader nodding to me as they split up and prepare to assault the rest of the ship. There…

I scan. Yes, that makes sense.

I send a crew summary to their personal computers. No Warhounds, just normal soldiers occupying the Warhound berths. The standard weapon for soldiers expecting to fight Warhounds is a one point eight metre long high pressure plasma beam projector that's completely impractical for shipboard operations but is just about the only thing that isn't another Warhound they've got that can hurt them. With main internal communications under our control and the element of surprise, this isn't going to be a difficult fight.

"You have the bridge."

The new captain nods as the capacitors for the ship's main guns finish recharging and the guns fire again. The wound in our neighbour has now cleaved to the centre line, its primary weapons dead. I

step out

and appear on the bridge of the battleship on the port side. They were targeted by the port side weapons, but the aim there was to take the main guns off line rather than break the hull in half.

"Lock-!"

Another barrage of orange kills the bridge crew, a moment of resistance from the internal shields being the only impediment. Alignment internal shields are designed to help marines fight off attackers, but they're not designed to fight off the sort of overwhelming power I can bring to bear. And the layout doesn't appear to be intended to help with teleport attacks.

Another portal out of subspace, and another Warhound detachment emerges.

"Sorry, they locked it all down." Filaments connect me to the bridge computer systems as I work to bypass the electronic aspect of the lockout. "The crew will be-"

The central bridge doors slam open and a group of marines stomp into the room, raising their guns and getting orange pulses through their faceplates for their trouble.

"-alert and active."

The leader nods.

"Understood." She hefts her gun, the other Warhounds forming up on her. "We'll clear the ship manually. There is no point trying to self-destruct if they're alert."

"Best wishes."

I

step out, returning to

normal space inside the bridge of the battle cruiser. Another volley of shots and another dead crew. The lockdown warning might have been transmitted on fleetwide communications, and trying to take ships that don't have shields is a bit of a risk. I raise my left arm, a great coruscating pillar of orange leaping upwards and punching through the ceiling, through the deck above that and the deck above that until it finally exits the hull. Then I slowly move my arm anticlockwise, cutting through the ship.

Ring, internal communications.

Compliance.

"Illustres to Alignment crew. I am destroying this ship. Get to the escape pods and you will be detained for trial. Remain, and die. End."

Compliance.

This ship lost its force field bubble, and as far as I can tell it doesn't have a separate environmental containment shield. Air is being sucked out of the widening hole in the hull as I keep cutting. Not particularly quickly -the pressure difference is only one atmosphere- but there's nothing quite like the stuff you breathe audibly vanishing when you're not wearing a space suit to motivate a person to move.

The ship twists and screams as I reach the nine o'clock position. And of course being able to see the stars out of the giant hole in the wall does something similar. At least the crew have clamps on their boots.

Six o'clock and the lights flicker as the connection to the primary generators is severed across most of the ship. I keep going though, until ring scans show that the ship is going to keep tearing itself apart with its own momentum. Then I

step out and

reappear next to Lantern Xor.

"Everything going well?"

"The large ships-" He charges a shot as we fly towards where the cruisers are frantically backing away and trying to charge their faster than light drives. "-are defeated."

The closest cruiser is struck in the front of its shield bubble which fractures and fails, the shot carrying on and obliterating the front portion of the ship.

"Now all that remains is to complete the destruction."

"No, wait. I need the practice."

He frowns as I

step out, re-emerging

at the point at which they entered the system.

I can see their lights, shifting between fear and discipline as they try to make this a withdrawal rather than a flight. A little deeper and I can see their motives, mostly a mixture of peer pressure and self interest. Few psychopaths or other innately evil people. Much like I thought.

I raise my hands, pointing at the ships heading in my direction. My palms glow with orange light as I compass their ending. I reach out, orange hands forming around the two uppermost cruisers and squeezing, their shields buckling and failing moments before their hulls do the same. I move my hands down-.

The next one on the left is frantically signalling its surrender. I nod and move past it, crushing the next two ships. I move the hands again-.

Signals of surrender from all remaining ships.

"Lantern Xor, I believe that the day is won. What would you have me do?"

"Illustres, please intercept the shots made at the colony. We will need somewhere to put these prisoners."

I nod, smiling faintly.

"On my way now."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd August 2012
16:44 GMT

I finish reading the missive, then raise my eyebrows as I look up at Onigar.

"Genuine?"

"The bodies of quite a few members of the government are hanging from the walls of the State Security headquarters." She nods. "My father is still on the planet, and his contacts have confirmed as much of this as they can."

"Surprisingly quick." I nod. "Which means this is more a palace coup than a sudden outbreak of revolutionary zeal. Someone in the old guard thinks they can survive while keeping the old system going if they dump enough of their old colleagues over the side."

"That was my conclusion. Fortunately, I have a tireless advocate of justice to call upon." There's a very brief flash of uncertainty. "I assume that I do have him to call on?"

"I wish you and Lantern Xor every happiness together?"

"That's-. Thank you, but that isn't what I meant. The Orange Lantern Corps is fighting a war. With the majority of the fighting here over, I assume that you will want Xalitan to travel to Maltus."

"How does he feel about it?"

"He feels intensely obliged to you. He would go, if you asked. And… I've read the files on his ring about the Reach. They are.. worse than the Alignment has ever been."

"That's objectively true. But it's long been my belief that the orange light is extremely subjective. If this is where he wants to be, it would be churlish of me to try and insist that he leave."

"He doesn't see it that way. He sees you as his superior officer."

"Well then… Consider that the war with the Reach won't last forever. Eventually, over the bodies of many comrades, we will pull the whole edifice down." I shrug. "Then what?"

"You will have to rebuild."

"Rebuild what? The Reach? With an army of Lanterns whose greatest desire is to destroy them?"

"The.. people they enslaved?"

"If there are any left, but I doubt that most Lanterns will have the visceral attachment to them. The Reach don't maintain slave populations. We won't have to go far into Reach space before we stop finding other species. I imagine that we'll have fixed all that we can well before the Reach finally collapses."

I shake my head.

"I imagine that most Orange Lanterns will want to quit. To go and return to their recaptured worlds and try to have a life. Some might keep their rings, but they're not going to want to live under military discipline. So how will that work? That's one of the things I want Lantern Xor to work out in advance."

"Xalitan would happily live under military discipline his entire life."

"He doesn't need to tell any of the others that."

"What's.. wrong with the Green Lanterns' Sector system?"

"Nothing, if you're a Green Lantern. Maybe nothing if you're Orange. We don't know yet. I'd like to have Lantern Xor doing this sort of work so that we've got a worked example to draw on. When we get to that stage I'm probably going to send a few Lanterns this way for retraining, but otherwise, unless the Reach get to the point where they're actually pushing onto Maltus itself I'd rather that Lantern Xor stay here."

She nods. "Thank you."

"Serving your interests serves my interests, which is how this should work. Though going back to your revised government structure…"

"Yes?"

"There's a country called 'Russia' on my world that went through a couple of traumatic government changes during the last century. And whether it had a monarch, a communist dictatorship or a representative democracy, the fundamental character of the place remained much the same. People are going to try going back to the old way of doing things."

She nods. "And Xalitan will stop them, until eventually they learn not to."

I nod. "Good show. The L.E.G.I.O.N. fleet is lurking nearby just in case you need them, but it's probably best if this remains an internal matter."

"I agree, but thank you for your foresight." She walks over to the view screen showing the work being done to bring the captured ships back into working order. Xor's doing the lion's share of the heavy lifting; the revolution hasn't captured any space docks yet and so their engineers are mostly limited to internal repairs. "Do you think… Returning in warships sends the right message?"

"'We took these guys with little effort, how lucky do you feel?' Yes, I think that's an excellent message. I mean, don't try and govern from one…"

"But people need to know that we are strong enough to maintain order until things are settled."

"Just so." I nod. "Have Lantern Xor send me a message if you need me for anything."

I raise my right hand to my forehead,

step out

22nd August 2012
11:47 GMT -5

and reappear-.

There's a crackle, a small explosion, and a billow of decidedly toxic smoke.

"Thaddeus?"

"Heh." Thaddeus Sivana Junior kicks a smouldering box under his work bench. "However did that get there?"

"Are you really that bored?"

"No, I'm not… Bored. Merely… Undirected." He kicks whatever that was, and there's a loud crackle! "Agh!"

He hops backwards a pace, clutching his right leg, as Georgia pokes her head around the door.

"Paul! Are you looking for Father?"

"Not specifically."

"Good." She walks into the room. "Because he and Mother are… On a date."

"So they're..? Getting on?"

Staying on one leg, Thaddeus Junior takes a spray can of some sort out of a wall-mounted box and sprays his injured leg. He then cautiously puts his foot back on the ground before returning the can to the box.

"Yes."

"And how do you… Both.. feel about that?"

"I… Guess it's good."

Georgia ducks her head, glancing aside. Thaddeus turns to her with a frown.

"What?"

"If neither of you are busy?" They both look at me. "How would you like to visit Maltus?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

23rd August 2012
20:02 GMT -7

I look into the audience as I trot out onto the stage. Full to overflowing, which is a little surprising given the topic under discussion. And the fact that… Well, ponies know that I'm involved with the innovations in their military, the recent resurgence of Earth Pony magic and… With their princess, but without modern media it's a little hard to work out exactly how much of an awareness there is of me in pony society. Or… Anything, really. News travels slow, and unlike Britain at an equivalent level of technology their print media is… Basic.

But at least there's a microphone. I step up to it and make eye contact with a cross section of the audience.

"Heresy. When I first chose that as the title of this lecture, I wasn't sure how familiar everyone would be with the pony word for the concept. In fact, in your language it doesn't have the same connotations as it does in mine at all. Where I'm from, it is most commonly applied to heterodox religious beliefs, rather than to divergent beliefs in general. And of course, ponies are… Herd animals. It didn't seem entirely impossible to me that there flat out wasn't a single word for it."

I make eye contact with Sunset who's here under an illusion as her pre-ascension self, alongside Twilight Sparkle. Luna's doing something similar, though she's picked a less recognisable face.

"But there is, and here we are. And before I reveal my particular heresy to you, let's establish a few points of commonality."

"Every pony is born with a special talent. The newborn foal will likely not be aware of it, or.. really, even be aware of anything very much. But it's there, and by the time they reach adolescence they will most likely both know what it is and have a-"

I half-turn and toss my head back towards my own haunch stamp.

"-colourful mark related to it on their bottom. In older pony societies that marked the point at which a pony would be considered a young adult rather than a child; when they might enter an apprenticeship or trade school rather than continue participating in general education. That's not the case now, as it's generally accepted that ponies need a wider range of education just to function in an increasing complex society, but getting a cutie mark is still considered a major life event. At the last census a full ninety two percent of ponies in employment reported that they worked professionally in areas relating to their special talents, with most of the rest being in temporary work or in associated fields."

"I don't think I've said anything particularly contentious so far. Have I?"

A few head-shakes.

"But let's look at it again. All ponies have special talents."

I pause for effect.

"All ponies. Not just ponies who have gained their cutie marks. All ponies. That newborn foal has a special talent just as much as each of you does. You're more aware of yours, you've achieved more in your field… But the talent is still there. Indeed, most reports on the subject state that in many cases the ponies closest to a pre-mark pony have a pretty good idea what sort of mark they'll develop well before they finally manifest it. It's true in some cases a mark appears the first time a young pony is exposed to a particular idea and something clicks in their head at once… But more frequently the manifestation involves a moment of profound realisation of something that's been there all along. Getting over.. something that's stopped them fully engaging with their talent."

"All ponies have special talents. Not all ponies have cutie marks. A special talent is a prerequisite for having a cutie mark. A cutie mark is not a prerequisite for having a special talent."

And now the pony-in-the-headlights stares.

But not from Sunset, who rolls her eyes.

"So. Where does the cutie mark come from? I'm an outsider to Equestrian society, but I assumed that when I had the opportunity to review the literature there would be some sort of answer. Perhaps not a precise explanation of why exact images form at the moment of revelation, but at least a broad understanding of the underlying mechanism. But there isn't. Talents themselves are reasonably well understood; the increase in the rate at which ponies gain skills in mark-related areas compared to 'off-mark' areas has been studied numerous times. More cutting-edge studies have even tried using modern brainwave reading equipment to see if the pony brain registers activities relating to the pony's special talent differently to other activities, though so far the bulky nature of the headsets has stymied those efforts."

"Cutie marks don't grant special talents. So what does? The moment of revelation? No. Quite aside from the fact that people suddenly realise or remember things all of the time without developing body art to go along with it, not all ponies recognise their special talent in that way, and… They still get marks. So that leaves us with… What? Realisation relating to a special talent?" I shake my head. "I doubt it. Who hasn't at some point picked up something written by a pony with a talent similar to our own, that we might learn something of ourselves? And read something and found ourselves saying something along the lines of 'Of course! It's so obvious!'."

Other than me, of course.

"That doesn't grant additional body art, either."

"So what does? What other phenomena cause pictures to appear of pony bodies? Well, tattoos, obviously, though those tend not to show up well under pony fur, and… Aren't exactly popular. The only other example that I'm aware of is the Cutie Pox. Thought to be an extinct disease, it was recently discovered to be the result of consuming a particular plant with powerful alchemical properties. The afflicted pony manifested sixteen cutie marks simultaneously, along with the associated special talents. And according to their family, none of the cutie marks related to things they had any skill in before the condition took hold, and none of them remained after the condition was cured."

"Let that sink in for a moment. A pony had cutie marks related to a talent they weren't born with. Cutie marks which took those talents with them when they vanished."

Mouths are hanging open, and a pony in the third row has his forehooves wrapped around his head, shaking in existential dread.

"So. What purpose do cutie marks serve? It isn't to give ponies talents. Could it be social signalling, showing other ponies where your skills lie? Possibly, except for the fact that a good many cutie marks are fairly abstract. At a glance, would you associate a flower with teaching, or a sparkling jewel with dress-making? Probably not. Do they signal age? No. Cutie marks manifest between the ages of four and fourteen, too wide a difference for that to make sense."

"So if they don't have any function in the process of having a talent, that one talent everypony is born with, and they don't have a signalling function, what are they for? And what would happen if they weren't there?"

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah."

Head-grabber loses his nerve completely and dashes from the lecture theatre.

"A pony has their moment of realisation, and nothing appears on their haunches. By definition, they're aware of their talent, but there's nothing signalling that to others… Other than their skill at whatever it is that their talent lies in. Since other ponies are tuned to notice things like that, it would be detected reasonably quickly… But since marks can be so abstract and often only have meaning to the pony whose mark it is, recognising exactly what the skill lies in isn't all that easy anyway. So… No useful purpose."

"So this is my heresy: cutie marks are useless. Worthless. Worse than worthless, because if the unnatural marks created by Cutie Pox are in fact representative, then that means that losing a mark results in the loss of a talent. If true, that means that getting a mark adds a point of vulnerability which did not exist before."

"But then… Why do they exist? Certainly, there are no adult ponies without cutie marks. Medical literature seems to indicate that not only is this true now, but has been true throughout pony history. How could such a mechanism arise if it does not serve a useful purpose?"

"Well. Perhaps it is useful. Just not for the pony. If it turns out that the internal magics of a pony who has realised their talent operate differently to the internal magics of ponies without marks…"

"Maybe that makes them all the more tasty."

There's a moment of silence as my audience considers this, coming to terms with the implication.

And then the room erupts in total pandemonium.

 

[Mr Zoat]

23rd August 2012
20:08 GMT -7

A completely calm purple pegasus mare with a raven cutie mark glares at me as the majority of attendees stampede for the exit. Those who aren't rolling around the floor hoofing at their haunches in a frantic attempt to remove their haunch parasite.

"We hope that you are pleased with yourself."

"Ah, it's fine." I raise my right forehoof and make a dismissive gesture. "I knew this could happen and so I put a load of drones near the exit. They'll dart everyone with ketamine and then drag them off to a spare room. No one will get more than mildly trampled."

An orange-pelted stallion with a magnifying glass cutie mark jerks his head up.

"DART ME NOW! DART ME NOW! I DON'T WANT-!"

Three darts appear in his flesh.

"Ahhhrrrrr…"

He collapses, twitching slightly, tongue hanging out of his mouth.

"Okay, I didn't think it would be… Quite this bad."

I glance over to where Sunset is.. holding a feed bag over Twilight's-. That's not a feed bag.

Um.

"None of these weak-hearts are supposed to be soldiers, right?"

The mare glows for a moment, then Luna regains her normal form. "We shall find out on the morn, when they fail their blood tests and are pilloried for it."

"Heh. Sunset, is Twilight still functioning?"

…

"Sun-?"

"I'm not talking to you right now."

"I liked it."

Huh? Oh. One of the audience members near the back didn't flee. That's refreshing. Purple with blue stripe mane and tail, lilac pelt and… Equals symbol cutie mark.

"I mean, you're obviously right about cutie marks being evil."

"I didn't say evil. Evil requires moral awareness and intent. I have no evidence that it isn't a purely automatic process. A tapeworm doesn't infect someone because it wants to cause them gastrointestinal discomfort, that's just a side effect of it living."

She smiles, hopping out of her seat and walking-. Stepping over the ennuing ponies in the walkway and walking towards the stage.

"So what do you suggest that we do about them?"

"Research. Ponydom needs to properly understand the process by which it occurs before we can make firm decisions. Sunset's-"

"Still not talking to you."

"-innovations, combined with the superior artifice from our side of the mirror should make it easier, though naturally getting informed consent from appropriate foals and their primary caregivers could be tricky." I shake my mane. "Ah, I'm sorry. If the audience has…"

The last mobile pony desperately crawls over the lintel and is picked up by a drone.

"Absented itself, I suppose that we can do a more intimate talk. I'm Grayven, obviously. Who are you?"

"I'm Starlight Glimmer and I've never met anyone else who felt this way about cutie marks before. Wait." She frowns. "What was that about a mirror?"

"A mirror to a parallel universe where the sophont species don't have a cutie mark equivalent. They also use far less magic and have instead developed a far greater understanding of science and technology. It's useful, because it lets you experience a completely different set of social assumptions."

She stops walking and blinks as she takes on board the new information.

"Oh. You mean like how griffons and diamond dogs don't have anything like a cutie mark."

"Yes. Only a lot more successful than them. It's understandable that a pony would look at Griffonstone or one of the diamond dogs' caves and not feel that there's a lot to learn from them. A people who have supersonic flying machines and non-magical teleportation are a little more notable."

She nods, then continues to the front-.

"Oh. Princess Luna."

"Greetings, Our subject. It pleases Us that thou art able to stomach Our beau's dilberry-flavoured waffle-whaffle better than most of Our subjects."

"I think he made his point perfectly well. And I think that he's right that learning about how cutie marks appear is the first step in learning how to stop them!"

Luna looks at Miss Glimmer for a moment, then swings her head back in my direction.

"Corruptor of youth. We should make you drink hemlock."

"Excuse me." Miss Glimmer.. actually walks into Luna's personal space. I haven't seen a pony do that to one of the senior princesses before. "I'm perfectly capable of reaching that conclusion for myself. I'm just surprised to meet someone else who has. Don't dismiss me."

Luna winds her neck in, blinking in surprise. But she recovers a moment later.

"We are curious, Our subject. What hast inspired thou to this belief?"

"Cutie marks make ponies fundamentally unequal. The moment you get one, the whole course of your life is laid out and whatever plans you had suddenly don't matter. They divide pony society into groups who literally can't understand each other when they talk about their jobs, and… For most of them, it wouldn't even occur to them that it was a problem."

"We do not think it is that simple. Our cutie mark is the moon, yet We are a princess regnant."

Miss Glimmer grimaces. "Oh, don't get me started on that."

Luna raises her eyebrows. "Wouldst thou care to explain?"

"You went crazy, vanished for a thousand years after trying to kill everything on the planet, then Princess Celestia decides to make you co-ruler because that's how it was a thousand years ago despite your complete lack of relevant skills and manifest psychological instability."

Twilight stops lowering her breathing bag and puts it back up over her muzzle again.

"Alicorns are the most unequal of all ponies. You get the abilities of all three races when everyone else doesn't and everyone bows and scrapes to you whether you're actually doing a good job or not. I want a society where everypony is equal: no cutie marks, no alicorns and no princesses."

"Okay." I jump-. Yes! Stuck the landing! Down off the stage and lay a restraining left forehoof on Luna's shoulder. "Let's just unpack that a little. Firstly, you seem to be equivalencing special talents and cutie marks. Now, I thought that we'd agreed that the two weren't the same?"

"Ponies stop trying other things once they get their marks. But-. Yes, okay, I suppose that I'm complaining about a symptom. No special talents, then."

I nod. "Okay. Plenty of species manage to maintain complex societies without them, though you do understand that it will take years -possibly decades- more to train ponies to perform complex jobs if they no longer have any intuition into the field? The society on the other side of the mirror trains doctors for about three times as long, and they start later."

"It's worth it to give everypony the same opportunity."

"And you realise that the pony you just ranted at has a job not related to her cutie mark, just like her elder sister?"

"Celestia changed the entire way Equestria's government worked on a whim to give her sister a job ahead of ponies with knowledge or experience. That's blatant nepotism."

"Okay." Ooooh, and from the look I just got from Luna I know I'm going to be paying for that later. "But as I understand it, your preferred solution is what we might call 'levelling down'. Removing all talents from everypony to level the playing field. Or not having alicorns at all."

"Yes. It's the only way to create an equal society."

"No it's not. Cutie Pox demonstrates that the cutie mark system can give a pony new marks, several at a time. Why not focus on manipulating that?"

She blinks. "How?"

"Give every talent to everypony. Or if that's not possible, network them all and let everypony share in everypony else's special talent. And if there being different tribes is a problem, just make everypony an alicorn and remove that difference. Level everyone up to the best position, rather than just take things away. Wouldn't that be better?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

23rd August 2012
20:32 GMT -7

I.. cautiously approach Luna as she stands looking out over the Canterlot falls.

"L-."

"You were not precisely fulsome in your defence of Our status."

"The first day we met, you told me that you weren't able to be an effective ruler. You told me that you wanted to fix that. It hardly surprises me that other ponies were put out by you suddenly skipping ahead of them in the order of precedence."

I risk taking a step closer, rustling my wings.

"For you, it was a stressful and despondency-inducing situation. For other ponies it was a slap in the face. They don't see what it was doing to you, they see what it was doing to them and theirs."

"And what was Starlight Glimmer's position?"

"She's the founder and mayor of a small town. Though honestly, it sounds like she isn't a fan of alicorn tyranny regardless of who sits on the throne. Refreshing, actually. I'd been beginning to think that all ponies were Celestia-cultists."

"Tyranny? Do We truly seem tyrannical to you?"

"You didn't inherit the throne or get elected to your position. You're not a queen or a president. There's no Witen, no parliament and no senate. You and Celestia define your own offices. Legally, you are personally empowered to do whatever you want unless Celestia gainsays you. The average pony has no say in how the nation is governed, however far removed. The average Crystal Pony had no say in having Princess Cadance and Shining Armor imposed on them. You're better than Discord and they're better than Sombra, but that's a pretty low bar."

She takes a deep breath, her eyes still focusing ahead.

"Neigh, Grayven, prithee tell Us how you really think."

"I thought we were at the spinach teeth stage. If you just want me to act the toady-."

"We do not." She turns her neck to regard me with her left eye. "'Spinach teeth'?"

"The first part of a romantic relationship is about mutual reassurance. You want to know that the other person desires you and likes you. But after a certain point, honesty is more important than flattery because you trust them to stop you doing something you'd rather avoid doing. 'You look gorgeous, darling' gets replaced with 'you've got spinach stuck between your teeth, might want to fix that before you go out in public'."

"And precisely how have We utilised our office in a manner befitting a tyrant?"

"When Celestia freed Discord, did she consult the courts? If petrification was no longer required, is he going to be tried and punished for his crimes in accordance with the Equestrian Code of Law? Or was it an arbitrary decision?"

"Discord is rehabilitated far beyond Our expectations. We do not see this as a problem."

Gun.

By your command.

A glowing copy of G1 Megatron's cannon appears in the air next to me, and I point it at the city.

"Would it be alright if I pulled the trigger? The beam's fairly thin and the city's not that wide. I might not hit anyone."

"We would rather that you did not."

"'If it's stupid and it works, it's still stupid and you're lucky.'" I dismiss the construct. "I'm perfectly aware that Sunset doesn't treat me with anything like the deference I could demand as her employer. This is intentional. I want people willing to gainsay me because I'm perfectly aware that I'm not perfect. Celestia's used a form of government where no one does that for at least a thousand years."

"How would you feel in Starlight Glimmer's position?"

"Me? I'd either be rabble-rousing or leaving the country. But I'm only a pony by magic. She's the only local I've heard espouse such sentiments, including Sunset."

"Doth that mean that they respect Our abilities, or that they are so slavishly devoted that they do not think to question?" She sighs. "No, do not answer. We already know the truth of it. It is simply uncomfortable to be confronted so directly."

"But when she sees what you have become a few years from now, having her admit it will make it all the more worthwhile."

She tilts her head to the side. "You think we should take her onto Our staff, then?"

"Dunno. Honestly, I think she might just be kind of crazy. You should have heard what she said about Celestia's school after you left."

"Doth she also hate kittens and rainbows?"

"I didn't ask. Though rainbows are pretty unequal."

"How are rainbows-?" She inhales sharply. "No, We will not stick our forehoof in that rabbit hole. Why is she so ill-disposed to the School?"

"Surface level analysis stuff, really. There's a School for Gifted Unicorns but no equivalent for earth ponies or pegasus ponies."

"And your retort?"

"Well, the name of the school is misleading, but the fact is that magic-talent unicorns have specific educational needs that aren't going to be met by a general education system. Because while most unicorns only ever use thaumokinesis and a couple of spells their special talent whispers to them in their sleep-"

"That is most certainly not how it works."

"-the-." I wing-shrug. "How would you describe it, then?"

"You make the process sound sinister, when in fact it is simply their special talent applying itself to their understanding of their magic."

"You know… I'm.. honestly not entirely convinced that special talents aren't sinister."

"Grayven, do you not recall how astonished We were when first you told Us how long humans spend in full time education?"

"Yeah, and I'll admit that it's convenient, but at least they know where the knowledge is coming from."

"We have never seen evidence proving beyond doubt that special talents grant knowledge. If that is truly what transpired, magic talents would be able to cast any spell that could be cast without the need for study, and your argument concerning Our Sister's school is that they cannot."

"Right, but Sunset said that she could intuit parts of magic theory without being taught them. Being able to learn a lot of spells is a side effect of the magic talent, not its primary focus." I shake my head. "We could argue this forever. The subject has never been studied with sufficient rigour to draw firm conclusions, and… After today, I can see why."

"We will expect you to make good on their injuries. We saw one of Our ponies try to tear off his own hind legs."

"Alright, but only after they've calmed down. There's no point in healing them if they're just going to injure themselves again. I've already called in some g-gnomes to check their mental states." I sigh. "But most of them are just the sort of people we need to actually carry this research out. And if they're going to do fainting goat impressions whenever they look at their own work, we're going to get nowhere." This time I sigh with a little more frustration. "These ponies lived through the Changeling Invasion. How are they this… Fragile?"

"Wouldst not the people of Apokolips react poorly to learning that their god-powers doth not flow from Darkseid?"

"Yes, but they wouldn't try to claw them out of themselves. And they'd probably just inform on the one telling them that, or kill them themselves."

"Ponies are not naturally predators."

"And? Predators attack the weakest because they can't afford to risk challenging the strongest head on. Prey species are far more savage, because their instincts tell them that if they aren't then they'll die anyway. I don't believe that was biology for a moment. Most ponies need to toughen the heck up-."

Oh.

"I think I need to…" Ugh. "Talk to.. Discord."

"No." Luna turns around to fully face me, walking over to me. "You have traumatised Our ponies enough this eve. Now, We wish to speak more with Starlight Glimmer. Lead Us to her."

"Your wish is my command."

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th August 2012
08:43 GMT -5

Georgia and Thaddeus Junior strap themselves into what looks like a sort of scaffolding.. power armour. Wires trail from various devices stuck at key points and connect to a computer display set up around head height for each of them. Force fields flicker and sensors wiggle as they do their final checks.

"You know, if we'd just flown, we could have been there by now."

Thaddeus leans around his monitor, frowning at me.

"Of course we could. But what would we have learned from doing that?"

Georgia nods. "It's not as if we aren't perfectly capable of building starships or long-range teleportation machines."

"But… If you can do all that, why do you want to come?"

"Oh, we haven't ever been able to study qwa-matter. We don't know how it works."

Thaddeus shoots her an annoyed glance. "Yet."

"I thought that went without saying."

"I can't promise that Vril Dox won't be busy."

Georgia… Makes a curious spluttering… Quacking noise, prompting Thaddeus to frown.

"Do you really just want to talk to the coluan? If you want a pet there's a whole planet of them going free."

"Vril Dox is the first man within a socially acceptable age divergence who can match my intellect and interests without being biologically related to me." She looks at me. "I mean that in the nicest way possible. You're not a moron, you're just… Simpler minded."

"Oh, I know Dox is far more intelligent than me. That's why I picked him for the job. But, really?"

"There's a certain type of young male super scientist who prefers to build their own partner. Or mind control some cheerleader they fixated on."

She clenches her right fist and raises it to her left shoulder, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath in as she does so. Then she breathes out, pushing her fist away from her and opening her eyes.

"It makes it very difficult to meet someone."

"Bah. My sharp intellect thrusteth sure. My intelligence is as the intelligence of ten because my science is pure."

"Yes, and with an attitude like that you're going to stay pure for a while. Father was lucky to find someone like Mother."

"And I appreciate being born, but I still cannot help but think that an exo-womb would be more efficient."

"Pregnancy hormones help mother-child bonding." I shrug. "Even most species that have high quality exo-wombs tend not to use them all that much except when there's a high risk of medical problems."

"Emotional problems. I've built emotional inhibitors. They work fine."

"Um." I glance at Georgia. "When you said 'build their own or mind control a cheerleader'..?"

She frowns, then looks at her brother- "Oh!" -and shudders slightly. "No. I'm not sure if it's a matter of standards exactly-"

"It was too."

"-but Junior never did anything like that. Though that might have been because we were pre-pubescent when we left normal school."

"But you were several years ahead."

"Yes, but that aspect of it didn't really register. My own hormones hadn't really kicked in yet."

"What about the possum chap?"

"Well yes, I was aware of the social aspect. But all of my other knowledge was theoretical."

"I still say exo-wombs are more efficient."

"You-? You're both aware that Doctor Sivana selected your genes-."

"With the aim of making us as brilliant as possible." Thaddeus turns his attention back to his checks. "Of course we are. We checked his work."

"Yes, but part of that for him was the socialisation aspect. You were supposed to have a less easy time getting along with people compared to your older siblings and so not have an alternative to science."

"And?"

"That's social science, isn't it?"

"S-oooof…"

Thaddeus freezes. Georgia grins.

"T."

"Hah! Proven wrong by Father."

"Where is the control group? Hm? He can't possibly know if it actually had an impact without comparing us to other children just as intelligent but with differing levels of social skill and inclination."

Ooh.

"Wouldn't he have known that?"

Both their heads jerk in my direction, frowning.

Thaddeus shakes his head. "Father wouldn't have created other children. He's always taking parenting very seriously."

"No, not… I'm not saying that I think you have other siblings because, yes, that would be out of character. But he was already in contact with Doctor Love. If he was trying to study the social side, he could just have tampered with a few genes in someone else's children."

Georgia frowns. "That does sound a little like him. But why hasn't he-?" She nods. "If we spoke to them then it would interfere with the experiment."

"If it's still running. He didn't keep track of the Beresfords, did he? If he's already reached a conclusion, he's not going to do anything to actually help the other subjects, is he?"

"No. Hm." Georgia nods. "I don't think he would. We can ask him when we get back. Junior, have you completed your checks?"

"Yes."

"Good." Georgia flips a series of switches, then nods in satisfaction. "Ready here."

"Alright." I float over and put a hand on each power frame… Thing. "Please bear in mind that we're passing through a realm of pure avarice. Anything you can't cope with is your problem."

"Oh please." / "Oh please."

"Three, two, one."

We step out

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th August 2012
13:48 GMT

and reappear in the asylum. I let go of the smoking frames and turn to look at them both.

"You alright?"

"Huh." / "Huh."

Neither Sivana Spawn are.. focusing on their environment, but neither are showing the sort of orange mess that I'd expect from someone who had uncontrolled exposure to the Honden.

"Georgia? Thaddeus? What did you see?"

"The system is supposed to keep us in an isolated spiritual loop, preventing external contamination." Georgia blinks spasmodically behind her glasses. "But it didn't prevent you from changing the medium."

"So you saw yourself as a network of your own desires? That could be very useful for training purposes. Can you make more?"

"Ah, yeah, but, no." Thaddeus shakes his head as he starts to come out of whatever it was that he experienced. "They would need to come from somewhere with a high level of thaumic activity. Otherwise they would just…" He strokes his chin. "Actually, I'm not sure what would happen to them. I think that they would just be erased, but it's possible that they would become a permanent part of someone else's desire network."

"Or something else entirely. We just don't have enough experimental data to know."

"And you're not going experiment on compelled subjects to get it, are you?"

"Not on Earth!"

"Georgia."

"Or any of your territory. Mother taught us not to destroy each other's laboratory equipment, and we've decided to extend that immunity to you."

"That's very considerate of you." Thaddeus takes a glass rod out of his lab coat and pokes part of his frame, which falls off and shatters on the ground. "Was that expected?"

"It's within the predicted range." They unstrap themselves and drop out of their frames. "But we would not be here if we did not think that we would learn something."

They both draw devices that look like a cross between a phaser and a hairdryer, waving the nozzles around while looking carefully at the readout.

"The stock room!" / "Secure storage?"

Thaddeus frowns at Georgia's uncertainty.

"What? It's obvious this is where they keep the test subjects."

"Does that sound like something a superhero would do?"

"A utilitarian superhero. It makes sense. If they're crazy anyway, test them to try and stop it happening to the others!"

"Hm."

"Hm."

They both turn and look at me.

"Well?" / "Well?"

"It's our asylum. For some reason, when I tried to think where to bring you, this is the first place I thought of."

"See?" Thaddeus waves his probe at his sister. "Test subjects."

"He didn't mean 'because it brought us closer to his test subjects'. He was implying that he believes that we should be inmates."

Thaddeus frowns.

"If we were, would we still have access to the other inmates?"

"No. The cells are individual. The inmates are dangerous to themselves and each other, and the two of you are far more dangerous than they are."

They both preen.

"Given that they're disarmed and bound. Ah, it probably won't matter, but you're both carrying some sort of defensive equipment, right?"

Thaddeus frowns, his face a picture of frustrated incomprehension. Georgia settles for rolling her eyes.

"Yes, we're 'carrying'. We even have concealed carry permits."

"You're armed legally?"

"No, of course not. Unless we were in Texas; did you know that they removed all weapon ownership restrictions during the Sheeda invasion? You can buy a Davy Crockett there now. Own one, anyway. I don't think anyone's actually selling."

"I did hear about that."

Private weapon ownership has become a lot more common since their invasion. Europe's resisting, naturally. Politicians there point out that conventional firearms didn't do much to Sheeda Lowborn due to them being invisible most of the time, and never did anything to their Highborn. As such, arming the civilian population wouldn't have improved their ability to fight and might have either caused the Sheeda to kill them rather than trying to capture them, or have made things harder for the police and military. And… Yes, they do have a point. I'm not hypocritical enough to say that private citizens shouldn't be armed, but the fact that there isn't any sort of training requirement in the US still makes me uncomfortable.

In the less… 'Staid' parts of the world, the governments had no chance against the overwhelming need of their citizens to protect themselves. Russia tried training people as army auxiliaries but there were just too many. They ended up with a network of state-sponsored gun clubs. China put the political commissars in each region in charge of organising People's Militia training, and it's actually quite a popular development with older communist party members. In other places people have been arming themselves as best they can, often in defiance of local law.

I could mass produce enough high-end infantry weapons to allow people to fight off most aliens in Sector 2814. But the problem is that weapons like that would also let them fight other humans. I don't know if I'm worrying needlessly; America and Russia hated each other for decades without nuking each other. Would a few million cold guns make Earth a more dangerous place to live when we've had the ability to scour it of life since the sixties and not used it? Or… Would the problem come from the fact that the people carrying them wouldn't be citizens of the two most powerful countries on Earth but rather decidedly less powerful places? A few countries with a lot to lose, versus two hundred countries without much to lose?

I thought that I squared that circle by getting hold of a L.E.G.I.O.N. fleet. Recruit a few hundred humans, let them gain seniority, and let them handle it. But basically everyone who applied was a government agent.

"But since you're interested, you can review our existing research and -if you want- speak to the patients."

"Are we allowed-" Georgia wiggles her sensor at me. "-to take our own readings?"

"With the permission of their physician."

Seventeen Lanterns in here at the moment. Only two who went full-Larfleeze, but we're dubious about the others ever returning to active duty. Just getting them to the point where they don't need to be contained any more would be a good start.

"And then can we see the weapons?" Thaddeus looks hopeful. "You know that's what we're best at, right?"

"Certainly. We've even got an alien mad scientist here for you to test yourselves against."

"Heh." Thaddeus shakes his head. "As if it would be a test."

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th August 2012
14:03 GMT

"Huh."

Thaddeus uses a set of plasma construct tweezers to delicately pry apart an object on one of Kalmin's 'completed project' display racks. I thought about asking Kalmin if he minded us taking a look, but last time I asked he said that if I could both understand what I was looking at and survive his intruder countermeasures, then I'd earned the right.

"Oh. I'm disappointed. I thought you said this guy was building your whole…" He moves a few more parts, then waves his sensor at the artefact. "Fleet."

"No, we're not stupid enough to let a Weaponer just build whatever he likes. He was part of the design team, but we checked everything thoroughly before building anything. And if there's something broken or incomplete in here, then I'd assume that he's storing it here until the mood strikes him to work on it some more." I frown. "Are you at all familiar with Qwardian technology?"

"I wouldn't say familiar. Father always said that copying other people's work was lazy, so we never really prioritised that sort of theft."

"Alright, but why didn't you pick something up while he was in the far future?"

"Because he's right. That would be lazy."

"But you're looking at it now."

"Yes?"

"Isn't that just as lazy?"

"Of course not. Georgia and I had to create a novel form of faster than light travel to come and look at this. Breaking into the sorts of places that the Air Force stores recovered alien technology is far more simple."

…

"Thaddeus, given that you don't want to break in there and that you're nominally obeying the law now that you've been pardoned, would-?"

"Actually, only Father got pardoned. I'm still wanted in seventeen countries."

"Oh. Alright then. In the interest of getting a pardon, would you be willing-?"

"Who says I'm interested in getting a pardon?" He prods again. "Oh, heh, I see."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult your villainous pride. I just assumed that since you were still working with your father you were planning on following the same trajectory. Are there crimes you feel that you want to perform?"

"No, I'm just keeping my options open. I don't like being told what to do."

"I'm not sure that I follow."

"Laws. I've never followed them and I don't think I could learn to do so now."

"You… Are aware that most people don't consider whether or not they're breaking the law on a moment by moment basis, aren't you?"

He stops, then turns to look at me.

"How does it work, then?"

"Well, most people -not you, obviously, but most people- have certain intuitions about the way people should behave in society. Not intentionally causing harm to others, not taking things that don't belong to them, trying to deal with disagreements calmly and rationally… Things like that. And they assume that the law provides an expensive brute force way to resolve disagreements that can't be resolved by the parties involved. Mostly, that's good enough, though in the case of peculiar laws it doesn't always work." I frown. "Didn't you go to a public school?"

"Yes, Mother insisted, and Father said that even a really good private school wouldn't be able to challenge us."

"But surely you-."

"Intruders!"

I turn around as The Test Subject Formerly Known As Daciya walks in, cybernetic arm glowing with golden light. I take a half-step back, but she's focusing her attention on Thaddeus.

Behind her, Nauca awkwardly raises his right hand in greeting. I nod back.

"Get your filthy hands off my-"

"It doesn't even-"

"-work, you defective-"

"-work right, see-" He uses his construct to pick the device up and turn it around. "-you got this-"

"-imbecile!"

"-turned-." Thaddeus blinks three times rapidly behind his glasses. "Excuse me?"

"Die!"

"Ah?"

Her mechanical hand twitches and a bolt of golden energy leaps at Thaddeus! I generate a construct shield-.

The bolt stops in mid-air about two thirds of the way to its target. Then a… The rectangle of space containing it changes to… Two dimensions, and rotates through 180 degrees before snapping back into three-.

The bolt strikes its mistress in the chest, sending her flying backwards with shredded robes and cracked armour. She strikes the side wall with a flare from her kinetic shield and attaches herself to it like a monkey, eyes flickering as she takes the time to scan Thaddeus Sivana Junior properly.

Who's looking at me in a decidedly disgruntled manner.

"I told you I had defensive equipment."

"I'm sorry, but I haven't seen you in the field before. I wasn't sure what you thought counted."

"Warn me if I run into someone more dangerous than Captain Marvel."

I look over to where Daciya's arm is reconfiguring itself.

"Captain Marvel doesn't try and kill you."

"Captain Marvel fights us in our laboratories. Solomon might have been wise, but he didn't have a PhD. That's how Father ended up in the future, remember."

"Who are you?"

Thaddeus pulls himself up slightly, plasma scalpel dissipating as he fiddles with his personal computer.

"I am Doctor Thaddeus Sivana, the most intelligent man on this planet."

Not true, assuming that the male Controllers are still male enough to count as male. But Dox is in orbit, and… Thaddeus probably has a greater range than Kalmin.

"And your machine doesn't work. Why did you even put it here?"

"So that in a few years I could look back at it and laugh."

Thaddeus smiles.

"Yes, I used to do that too, when I was six. Years. Old."

This time she fires two bolts. Thaddeus gets enough time to shake his head, space fracturing around them-. They explode, the energy consuming-.

Space fractures around Thaddeus, twisting around and depositing him across the room and out of the blast radius, a faintly crimson shield dealing with the remaining radiation.

He smiles.

"Interesting. Here's my retort."

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th August 2012
14:08 GMT

"So… How are you finding it on Maltus?"

Nauca hesitates a moment then-.

A roar echoes through the air and the ground shakes!

He hesitates a moment longer, making sure that there's not going to be a follow up. Then he uncringes. Slightly.

"So far, I like it. I'm a lot safer here than I was on Qward, I've got access to better materials to work with and… I don't know, I kind of like having an objective to work towards beyond 'do this and we don't kill you'."

"You don't get that from Kalmin?"

Nauca shakes his head as a little way away Orange Lanterns move in to cover the evacuation and warn people away from the combat zone.

"He's trying to work out how to teach Weaponers so that they'll turn out like he did, rather than the way most Weaponers did. We're trial runs. He won't kill us accidentally because even if we don't turn out how he wants us to, he still needs to understand what went wrong."

"You.. are aware that you don't need to stay with him, right? Maltus actually has a civilian economy, along with the organisations that make up N.E.M.O., and you're perfectly welcome to train for any position."

He nods.

"Thank you, but… I really like destroying things. I just want to know that I've achieved something by destroying those things, you know?"

"We need people like you in the Orange Lantern Corps."

"I know, but I think I should finish school first. And… I don't really like the idea of using a weapon an alien made."

I shrug. "It's your life."

He looks back towards the combat zone as golden lightning leaps skyward.

"Who was that human? I think I recognise the dimensional overlay defence he used, but I've never heard of a human with something that advanced."

"That's Thaddeus Sivana, and… A small proportion of humans are vastly more intelligent even than normal 'very clever' humans. He's one of them. He also… Tends to regard everyone and everything around him as a potential experimental subject."

"He's a Weaponer?"

"No, because human social structures don't have that title. He isn't part of our ruling elite, he doesn't make weapons for our soldiers, and I don't think he's old enough to qualify. And he's never used qwa matter."

"He's… That young?"

"Where we're from he can't legally drink alcohol or drive a motor vehicle."

"Who enforces that?"

I nod. "Yes."

"I see. Are there others like him?"

"His sister's on Maltus now, if you want to speak to her. She wanted to talk to the asylum wardens, but she's probably-."

My ring shimmers.

"Probably available. Excuse me." I raise my ring. "Illustres here."

Dox's face appears.

"It's time. Come to my office for briefing."

"With you momentarily. Ah, Georgia's on Maltus. Is-"

"I know."

"-it alright if she turns up?"

"If it wasn't, I would have told you the moment you appeared."

"I meant, comes with me to your office."

Dox frowns slightly. "Of course. I would value her input."

I narrow my eyes slightly. "Who are you, and what have you done with Vril Dox the Second?"

"That turn of phrase isn't as funny as humans seem to think it is. We have a complicated security protocol for dealing with shapeshifters and illusionists, and having reviewed the data on the damage they can cause I assure you it is no laughing matter."

"Right. Sorry."

"And neither is the fact that I like Georgia. Both Ratchet and Brande regard this as 'progress' on my part. Do you disagree?"

"No, just.. a surprise. A pleasant surprise. Good for you, both of you. I'll go and find her now."

"E-." Dox hesitates. "Thank you. End."

He disconnects, and I lower my ring.

"Is there any chance that Daciya will negotiate a ceasefire?"

"What's a ceasefire?"

"A temporary cessation of hostilities while both sides rearm."

"He was going through her equipment. I don't think she thinks she has anywhere else to go to in order to rearm."

"Then I suppose that I'll have to stop them. Excuse me."

I wrap myself in armour, construct armour and the stuff of desires and drives and fly at speed back to the vault. Fortunately, the building is designed to withstand quite a lot of force being directed at it, so it's unlikely that a Controller will feel the need to involve themselves. A stray plasma bomb detonates on my defences, but otherwise I'm able to convey myself through the somewhat-ravaged corridors into…

Daciya has recovered several of her abandoned projects and is hastily assembling them into something that's greater than the sum of their parts, a crackling golden bubble shield holding off some sort of flash-fabricated probe that Thaddeus is poking at it. There's some radiation, but it doesn't look that dangerous.

"Alright, knock it off. One-"

Golden energy arcs towards me and fails to penetrate my construct.

"-warning."

"She started it."

"I'm not your mother, Thaddeus. And this isn't a duelling arena."

"I don't duel with-. Actually-."

"Daciya, this is a draw."

"But I'm-." I glare at Thaddeus, who appears to recognise that he might have gone a bit far. "She still started it."

"And he's challenging you to a duel. You can fight him again later, somewhere where it won't inconvenience anyone else. Stand down, now."

Glaring, she twists a linkage into place, before nodding.

"Two days, in the southern duelling grounds."

Thaddeus nods. "Agreed. Try a little harder next time."

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th August 2012
14:18 GMT

"Do you think I should have brought something?"

I shake my head as we walk along Ranx's corridors in the direction of Dox's office.

"He's an Orange Lantern. If he wanted a material object, he could make it himself."

"Yes, but if I'd saved a project we would have something to do."

"He's running a major war. I'm sure that he'll appreciate any insight you…" I frown. "No, honestly, I'm not sure of that, but according to the two people closest to him you're the first person Dox has expressed a desire to see for personal reasons."

"Make up?"

"Unless it would help bolster your confidence, I'd say no. Georgia, why are you this worried?"

She wrings her hands.

"I don't have a great deal of experience with this sort of thing."

"You've been talking to Dox for months. With full two-way holographics. He knows what you look-. Georgia, you haven't been using someone else's face, have you?"

"Of course not. He'd see right through that."

I wave as we walk past a couple of L.E.G.I.O.N. officers, and get respectful nods back.

"So, just be-. Maybe tone down the overtly psychotic evil a little, but otherwise just be yourself."

I field Lantern Ratchet in a construct baseball glove.

"Sorry Lantern Ratchet, not today. We've got company."

He rises out of the glove, orientating himself on Georgia who already has her scanner out. "Hello. I'm Lantern Ratchet, Clarissi Vril Dox's aide."

"Yes, he's mentioned you once or twice. How do your species naturally locomote?"

"We swim. Out of the water we tend to use a combination of gripping and pulling, and looking pathetic and hoping someone takes pity on us."

She frowns. "Does that work?"

"Oh yes. Our tentacles are quite strong, and we are fairly light."

"No, the pity thing. It seems extremely chancy to me."

"That was a joke."

"Oh, a.. joke." Georgia fidgets. "Yes, I… Should have spotted that."

"We use robot suits. Before we had those, we could use picks or simple mechanisms. Can I touch you?"

She frowns. "Why?"

Ratchet deflates slightly. "Clarissi Dox didn't mention me at all, did he?"

"No, he mentioned you. He just didn't actually tell me anything about you."

"Just…" He sags in the air slightly. "Never mind. You can go in. Both of you."

Ratchet turns around and floats back to his work station. Georgia watches him go.

"Why did he want to touch me?"

"He's a social deviant from a zero tactility culture. He really likes touching people."

"And you indulge him."

"Yes. It's harmless and it makes him happy."

"Is that..?" She frowns. "You have a girlfriend, don't you?"

"Letting people touch you isn't cheating. It's fulfilling a basic psychological need we get from our monkey ancestors."

"I don't think our primate ancestors would have found being grasped by tentacles fulfilling to their grooming requirements." She gives her head a small shake, then marches straight-armed towards Dox's door.

The door opens, and…

And.. someone -I'm going to assume that it wasn't Dox- has decorated. His minimalistic hologram system is still here, but now it's been joined by… Potted plants. A soft seating area. A wooden desk. Carpet. I'd.. guess.. Brande was responsible, but I don't think that this is something that anyone could sneak by Dox without him noticing. So he's approved it, and the first I'm seeing of it is when Georgia appears.

Well paint me pink and call me Star Sapphire.

"Doctor Sivana."

Dox isn't wearing his normal uniform jacket. Instead, he's wearing a lab coat, though his posture is exactly the same.

"Clarissi Dox."

Georgia is awkwardly looking him over and… It looks like she's trying to work out whether or not she should adopt a similar pose.

"You have a mission for me, sir?"

Dox's eyes move from Georgia to me for a heartbeat, before returning to Georgia.

"Yes. Would.. you.. both.. like to take a seat?"

He gestures to the seating area, and… That's a tea service.

I think I need to get out of here before they start holding hands or something.

Georgia stiffly takes a seat, and I take the position next to her. Dox sits down rigidly opposite us, using his ring to call up a holographic image.

"As I told you prior to your mission to Yuna, the Reach are building up for a counterattack."

A map of the region appears, seventeen locations being highlighted. They're well inside Reach territory, but taking into account travel times… Yes, those would cause significant local problems.

"You want me to destroy one? Or two?"

"No."

A thought and the image zooms in on one of the fleets. Not.. Reach ships. Those are juluuni, a species the Reach overran centuries ago. Dox spots the look of recognition on my face.

"Leftovers?"

"The Reach wouldn't put their own people on inferior ships. We've been working on the assumption that these species were extinct. If they're still alive and the Reach are just… Storing them somewhere, it undermines our credibility. Doubly so if we are the ones who finally wipe them out."

"So I need to board them, find out what's going on and then rescue as many as I can."

"If by 'rescue' you mean 'collect biological samples', yes. The Reach has had them for long enough to overwrite their minds with whatever they want. There's little point in trying to liberate them."

"I don't want to pre-judge that."

"You could just wipe them out." I turn to Georgia with raised eyebrows. "That far into Reach space there are unlikely to be any observers. If you destroy them outright, you could dismiss anything the Reach says as mere propaganda."

"I could. But I won't. If you'll excuse me, I'll start requisitioning resources."

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th August 2012
15:37 GMT

Darkstar Lotta frowns as she scrolls through her pad.

"Cloning tanks."

"Yes, for medical emergencies. It has to be the general purpose ones because there aren't any standard models designed for human physiology."

She nods, apparently unconvinced. "I thought Orange Lanterns of your level could regenerate their injuries?"

"We can. But only if we have an intact brain. I'm going to be storing a complete body here so that my soul can jump into it if I'm completely disintegrated."

She nods, tapping the 'approved' button a little harder than the situation truly required.

"Un-der-stood."

Hm. I should probably.. requisition a spare ring for it. Or…

I call out one of the thralls who took part in the attack on Yuna. Standard pattern humanoids with oddly angular skulls; it's a little like someone painted a face over the corner of a right angle. The face is two flat surfaces with holes for nostrils and eyes. No desires of her own, but just enough undirected orange to maintain a connection.

Let's see…

We pull and tie fragments of desire from the Honden to the remnants, binding and programming the structure to heed our desires, twisting until the construct becomes a thing in the material universe. A pull

and the lich-ring is complete. I-.

"Did you just turn a person into a ring?"

"No, I turned a construct into a ring. I turned a person into a construct a week ago." I pluck the ring out of the air and try making a construct with it. Eh, it's not great, but I could work with it in an emergency. "Though if it makes you feel any better, she was already essentially mindless thanks to the Reach."

Lotta nods. "It does."

"How have you been?"

"Since when?"

"Since last time we saw each other? I don't.. think I've seen you since I first arrived."

"Ah… Better than I was expecting." She exhales amusedly. "Sorry, I've been partnered with Phil for so long that I've forgotten what basic social enquiries sound like."

"You do have other squad mates."

"Yeah, but you spend most time with your partner. As for how well I'm doing… It's… Nice not to be losing the war any more."

"You didn't request a transfer."

"No, I actually listened to you when you said that orange power rings affected your judgement. And Phil wasn't going to transfer, so…" She shrugs. "The new exo-mantles are plenty for me."

"I'm a little surprised that Phil stuck with it. I'd have thought that direct combat was more his thing."

"According to him, power rings take most of the fun out of it. They're too 'remote'."

I nod. "They're not for everyone. Though if it.. comes up, please point out that there's nothing to stop him just using a construct axe or something."

"I'll pass that on." She looks around the Darkstar infiltration ship's cargo hold. "Putting a bio-lab in here is easy enough. Can you tell me what we're going to be studying?"

"Reach bio-modification techniques on novel species."

She nods. "We have the expertise. Which species in particular?"

I throw an orange dot at her pad, transferring the files Dox gave me. She moves her finger as she scrolls through.

"This is-. These are extinct species."

"Maybe not. But you see why I want a Darkstar ship; I'm going to be flying into a hostile fleet, kidnapping the crew and flying back while inside Reach territory."

"Yes. So, about that power ring?"

She chuckles, but it's awkward and nervous. She's a veteran, but flying into Reach territory like this is triggering her 'and they send the medals to your next of kin' instinct.

"If you're serious-."

"No, I'm.. not. So all we're doing is hiding until you get back, and then running away?"

"That's the plan. Though if you tell me that it can't be done, then I'll come up with something else."

"I assume that we're running to somewhere?"

I nod. "Into a waiting L.E.G.I.O.N. assault fleet. If for some reason that's unworkable, orders have been sent to L.E.G.I.O.N. ships over-" I create a construct map. "-here to assemble here to give us protection. Obviously that creates a lot of holes in our perimeter and Commander Dox would rather we didn't do that, but the option's there if we need it."

"And Lanterns?"

"Those are not small fleets. I'm going to ask Lantern Natu if she'll come along, but she'll be joining the science staff. I'll be heading in on my own."

"Are there Lanterns who could make the ship faster?"

"Faster?" I nod. "I can make it faster. There are a couple of paranoids who could make us better at hiding, but there are some… Rather serious side effects to them using their abilities."

"Such as?"

"We might forget that they're on the ship. Or that we're on the ship. Or that ships exist, or that the universe exists, or-."

"Right." She frowns. "How do we know we haven't already recruited them?"

"Dox has an alert system, and we think I should be immune. But… You see the problem."

"I see I was right sticking with the exo-mantle."

I nod, twitching my nose. "Probably. How long will it take to get the module installed?"

"If we put your name on the order, half an hour."

"Do it. Though point out that since I'm not a L.E.G.I.O.N. or Darkstar officer it probably shouldn't be accelerated like that."

"Do I tell them that before or after-?"

"After."

"Request sent. Any preference on the crew?"

"Darkstars who are used to hiding and running."

"That's still most of us. Just about. I'll see who's available. When do we leave?"

"As soon as possible. I'll go talk to Lantern Natu."

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th August 2012
15:55 GMT

"Oh."

Lantern Threllian's environmental shield cuts out completely as he hears the news. I expected something like that might happen, which is why I made sure to tell him on the surface of Maltus well away from obvious sources of danger.

Most of his species were believed dead at the hands of the Reach, and given their environmental requirements and the fact that the escapees aren't numerous enough to fill a small town they weren't prioritised for access to the newly terraformed planets. Most of them chose to enter suspended animation, but Threllian decided to join the Darkstars instead. Dox tapped him for our headquarters staff during his first wave of recruits in virtue of the fact that he was the second most intelligent non-Controller on Maltus.

There's nothing quite like knowing that the Reach conquered your people so they could use their brains in their computers to make you want them dead.

"I don't-." I shake my head. "They're almost certainly controlled to the point of being mindless-."

He shakes his head. "The biological samples alone are.. invaluable. Illustres, I.. beg you to let me accompany you."

"Try flying."

He twitches, as if expecting to rise off the ground.

"I-."

"I understand, and I'm sympathetic. But if you can't use your ring reliably I can't in good conscience bring you with us."

He closes his eye for a moment, then his environmental shield snaps back on.

"I will master myself. I was.. taken by surprise. It will not happen again"

I take a moment to look inside him. There's no questioning his commitment, but that news rekindled a hope he'd long buried. He'd decided in his own mind that his species were heading for extinction, and on the off-chance that they weren't that he wouldn't live to see their rebirth. Even after the founding of the Orange Lantern Corps he regarded it as such a long term endeavour that it didn't change his mindset beyond 'it's good that that will be dealt with'.

But if we get enough biological samples, it shouldn't be that hard to persuade a Controller with geomantic inclinations to build them a planet and set up the cloning systems they need for accelerated biogenesis. The hold up had been that there wasn't enough genetic variety and the Controller who took the job would have to create it artificially, but with that done there could be a functioning planet up and running inside ten years.

"I can't tell whether that's true or not."

"Illustres, I assure you, when faced with the enemy I will not deviate."

"And I'm sure that you believe that." I frown. "Take a moment to review my file on Lantern Koriand'r."

His eye glows for a second.

"The.. blue ring."

I shrug. "There's nothing wrong with feeling hopeful. Ordinarily I'd say that if you're feeling hopeful, feel hopeful. But I don't have a spare blue ring." I bow my head for a moment. "Your life is your own. If you choose to risk it in this fashion, I'll have you. But you're intelligent enough-."

"It might be a better use of resources for the Corps to not dispatch me. But as you yourself have said, we are not the Utilitarian Lantern Corps. I want this."

I nod, and pull my ring off my finger and put it in my equipment harness. Then I hold out my left hand.

"Pass me your ring."

He blinks, but complies. For a moment we're incapable of understanding each other, then the environmental shield re-engages as I lay his ring on my palm and hold it out.

"Prove it."

He nods, holding out his left hand. This whole thing's become a bit of a ritual amongst Orange Lanterns, but he gets it. If he can't call it back with a little added resistance, he'd be a fool to come along.

He settles himself, focusing on his desire to destroy the Reach-.

"Do you know if your homeworld was thaumically active?" The ring wobbles. "Because if it was, we might be able to-"

He works out where I'm going with that line of reasoning before I complete the sentence and his calling wobbles, but he bears down and suppresses the distracting impulse so quickly that if I wasn't looking at his thoughts as he did it I may not have noticed.

"-restore anyone we recover."

"Then-" There's a change in… Pressure within his emotional network. Oh, that's interesting. The impulse that was feeding his hope-thoughts is now… Feeding his avarice-related ones as well. "-I want to be there to see it."

The ring leaps from my palm onto his left ring finger, his environmental shield flaring for a moment before settling back down.

"Looks like you're in, then. We'll be hitting your people's fleet second, just in case there's an overt trap involved. I'll want you on analytics."

"Yes, Illustres."

He looks up and then metaphorically rockets into the sky towards our ship. I narrow my eyes… They're installing the bio-lab module now, and I can see the flickers of orange as Lanterns Natu and Nax work to get it connected up faster than Ranx's stevedore teams could on their own. Georgia's still with Dox, so that just leaves Thaddeus.

I

appear next to him in the workshop he's purloined from one of Kalmin's students. It looks like he's taking an inventory.

"Thaddeus-."

"I've never been in a duel before. Do I need to wear special clothes?"

"Depends on how seriously you're taking it. Qwardian duels between Weaponers are about demonstrating their best equipment so there's no restriction on weapons or other equipment. Maltus doesn't have a duelling code."

"Hm." He plugs three devices into each other and twists an activator, causing green energy to collect in a crackling ball. "I am a little surprised you dropped me in it like that. You know I had her, right?"

"I'm a little surprised you picked a fight on a planet that's actually quite important to me. Besides, I'm setting the rules of the fight. I aim to make it a learning experience for both of you."

"If she lasts more than five minutes."

"Then we have it fought in shorter rounds, with time for both of you to work on your equipment between them. This isn't about winning, Doctor Sivana. This is about what you can learn, even from an inferior opponent."

"Are you saying that you were acting in my interests?"

"I didn't honestly think you'd fight like that while you were here as my guest. I wanted you to stop, and I thought that was the best way to get you to do so."

"That's fair." He turns his device off with another twist. "And you have a point. I was treating it as a violent confrontation and not an opportunity. That was short sighted of me."

"If you want another opportunity, I'm going out to pick a fight with the Reach. Do you want to come along?"

"You know? I think that I do."

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th August 2012
20:23 GMT

"…kind of interesting." Thaddeus looks on as Lantern Nax allows my clone's body to snap back together. "How did you learn to do that?"

"It is simply an ability which some members of my species manifest naturally."

Thaddeus sighs and turns his face away.

"And not interesting again. Do you have any idea how annoying it is to meet aliens who can just 'do' things?"

Lantern Nax looks like she's not quite sure how to take that. Goodness knows that Thaddeus hasn't made any sort of effort to make friends since coming on board. I was half-hoping that meeting a fellow mad scientist would make things easier for him, but it looks like our vivisectionist just isn't on his level.

"Isn't finding out how we do things-"

"Density-sensitive telekinetic phasing isn't that interesting."

"-what… Makes it interesting…" Nax blinks.

"Especially when it's built-in."

"Have you encountered other people with this ability?"

"Not this exact ability, but it's not…" He frowns. "Why am I still talking to you?"

And then he turns around and heads off to one of the analysis stations.

"Oh." Nax stares after him for a moment, then looks at me. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, Thaddeus just has extremely poor social skills, and no incentive to improve them."

"Would it have helped if I said that I only believe it is a natural ability for some members of my species because that is what my parents told me, and they were the only other members of my species I have ever met?"

"I doubt-." I give her my full attention. "Really?"

She nods twice. "They told me that there weren't any interesting test subjects back home. After they died, I was stuck on a planet with no way to try and find others like me even if I wanted to. And now that I am a Lantern, I have a job to do."

"Yeah-yes, but we're not keeping you prisoner here. If you want to take a couple of months to visit home-."

Lantern Natu shakes her head.

"I already tried that."

"Since I've never met another member of my species, I don't really miss them. And…" She glances at her mentor. "From what I have learned about morality, I… Don't think my parents were very good people."

"Well..." I nod. "No, but that doesn't mean that the rest of your species are like them."

"Then what would I have in common with them?"

I raise my hands. "It's your life. As long as you're-"

"Bridge to Illustres."

"-happy, that's the main thing." I raise my ring. "Illustres here."

"We're as close as we can safely get to the first target."

"Oh, you're making me actually work today?"

"Yes, that's… Why we're here."

I roll my eyes.

"Seriously, less time around Phil. I'm heading to a deployment tube now."

"Understood."

This isn't a huge ship, so I don't have far to travel to get to my launch zone. Being a stealth ship, we can't exactly just jump out through a big warm electromagnetic-radiation-rich hole in the sensor-defying armour when we want to get out. Any sort of shuttle is completely out of the question. Instead-

My stealth power armour appears around me as I head for the exit.

-we… I am going to have to exit a series of locks very carefully, and take care not to give the ship's location away. Having reviewed the capabilities of the ships I'm going up against, I shouldn't need to retreat, so the main thing is to avoid my targets being able to send ships this way while I'm busy.

I step into the first stage chamber and bring my stealth systems online. Given the relatively low speed of light, visual stealth isn't the most important thing, but it's still a consideration. Preventing space-time ripples by neutralising my own mass profile is far more important, and I can do that. Heat, electromagnetic, phasic…

I rise off the ground slightly and look out into the launch control room. The Darkstar in charge presses keys, causing the sensor systems where I'm floating to try and detect me. A few moments pass and he shakes his head. Not that he can see me, but I appreciate the gesture.

Then the aperture to the next module opens and I float on through. Another round of scans, then a light turns go-purple. Then it's through an aperture covered by an environmental filter, the door closing a moment later and the air being completely evacuated. And only then does the exterior door open into deep space.

We're not hiding in an asteroid 'field', because those are actually extremely diffuse and… Frankly, the first place anyone looking for a ship that's hiding is going to look. We're not in a nebula-. No, actually, we technically are, but those are defined as having slightly more dust than normal space. They're even less dense than asteroid fields. I don't think there's a single grain of dirt in my visual field.

Space, the final frontier.

Both my ring and my armour's computer have my heading, so I turn in that direction and activate my empathic vision.

These are the voyages of the Orange Lantern Corps.

I wonder what it would be like if… I'd been able to found the Corps in a time of relative… Peace.

Its continuing mission: to scout out well-charted worlds. To seek out Reach life and allied civilizations. To boldly destroy what no one has destroyed before.

Or something.

There they are. Looks like there are no Reach citizens in the mix, and the desires of the crews are just as dimmed as I thought they'd be. They're still there though; they're not the biomechanoids I thought they might be. I can't tell more from here, and I can't risk a scan until it's time to stop silent running.

Time to go.

I accelerate, space rippling as I bend it to accelerate my passage and then force it to snap back to reduce the risk of it being detected. The amount I'm bending it is tiny compared to what I do when I fly long distance. It's pretty small when compared to what most Lanterns do. But I'm not travelling all that far and there's no real deadline. Dox isn't expecting me to hit every single one of these fleets. If I'm too slow, we lose some investigation opportunity and I'll have to move at higher speed.

But I do want to know what they're doing. Because if the Reach isn't quite as brutal as we'd been assuming… Maybe we could negotiate something. Not now, obviously, but before we're forced to bombard their worlds from orbit. But that doesn't seem to track with what we've got good intelligence on them doing.

I want to know what they're playing at.

And I'll find out in… Four hours and seventeen minutes.

Joy.

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th August 2012
22:13 GMT

"And… How's it going?"

Lantern Ph'yzzon -the Ph'yzzon I'm talking to at least- looks out across the ship graveyard. He's long since recovered from the negative effects of what the psions did to him, though I'm told that they're responsible for his skin being more a burnt umber rather than traditional bright orange. Well, he has an orange ring now; if it was a problem he'd have changed it. His ability to be in multiple locations at once isn't that useful, but his ability to parallel process makes him perfect for jobs like this.

Work crews cover the ships as far as the eye can see, a smattering of ship-loving Orange Lanterns scattered amongst the Euphorian labourers and engineers. A newly refurbished cruiser rises into the air as I watch, turning slowly and then flying through the boom tube overhead.

"Well, my Lord. The work continues apace. Since we don't know how long we have until your doppelgänger arrives I've prioritised the smaller craft, but even the battleships are in relatively good condition. Do you know how long we have?"

"No, not as yet."

He pings me a summary and I take a moment to review it. Yes, they're going as fast as they can. Dulak is holding up his end of the deal; we're getting as many engineers as could meaningfully contribute to the task at hand, and a lot are volunteering to work with us as crew. The shield is still up for now… Probably for the best. If the fighting heads this way I wouldn't want stray shots to hit the planet's surface.

"My Lord, we need to know that. If the gordanians just.. appear in Vega… They don't have any base for us to attack. They'll have complete strategic manoeuvrability. Freedom to attack whatever they like."

"Yes, I do know that." Remember Your Place.

"I'm…" He ducks his head slightly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-. I'm just concerned."

I nod. "And you're right to be. But these aren't gordanian raiders. Amongst my people… There's a way to establish supremacy. It makes us predictable, to a degree. He will need to prove that his civilisation is superior to my civilisation. He's not just going to do something dispassionately logical like hit and run attacks by boom tube. He needs to break my will more than he needs to destroy our fleet."

He frowns.

"So he doesn't care about the rest of us?"

"No, he cares. His basic drives are the same as mine; it's his epistemology that's different. Once I'm dead, his Source-based powers will have free rein with no counter. You'll bow to him and think that it's your idea. And he will make you all bow."

"What about the others of your kind?"

"None of my subordinates have the strength. My brother-." I frown. Kalibak's out and Scott isn't aggressive enough, but… "My brother Scott isn't violent enough to confront him. My brother Orion would be, but I haven't spoken to him…"

Ping.

"Ever."

"Ever?"

"He and his mother were sent away from Apokolips not long after he was born. We've never actually met in person. I suppose I could try talking to him, but I doubt that he'd want to listen."

"What's the risk?"

I frown. What actually is the risk? He might just pick a fight with me. Father Box's records indicated that he has a psychotic hatred of everything Apokoliptian so I doubt that I'd get a fair hearing. Would he..? Include Scott in that hatred? I wouldn't have thought so… For purely selfish reasons I've been trying to discourage Scott from reaching out to his natural father, but…

"He kills me and doesn't bother to find out why I wanted to speak with him. My alter ego arrives and walks all over the defences."

I sigh. But These Are My People.

"But it's not a terrible idea. I'll give it some thought. Anything else?"

"His… Control. How does it work? Is it something we can resist?"

"Are some of yourselves watching the work crews? Measuring their productivity?"

He frowns. "Of course."

"Watch this."

I reach out with my metaphysique. The Lanterns are sworn to me personally, and loyal to me in a way which satisfied something deep in my soul. The Euphorians aren't, but they're bound to me by the pact I have with Regent Dulak and by common purpose. The ships are war engines directed to the preservation of my empire against its enemies. We share a task. I direct them, they labour.

Feudal Empowerment Methodology.

My vision briefly blurs as I feel myself bound to everyone on the site.

"What was-?" Ph'yzzon's eyes glaze slightly. "I see-. Engineering teams are working with greater speed and precision. What did you do?"

"That was me investing a little of myself. I don't like doing it like this, because it involves me controlling the people around me. Now imagine someone like me who didn't hold back."

And it feels… Good. Right. The people here are still mostly themselves, and now they serve…

Serve a greater purpose. Yeah.

Is this.. him, or is this..?

"Keep up the good work, Lantern Ph'yzzon." I turn away and walk in the direction of the desert. "I'll keep you informed of any developments."

He bows, something tamaraneans don't do, Lanterns don't do and he's never done. "Yes, my Lord."

I don't like this. I don't like how natural it feels.

Mother Box, let's go and see Scott.

Ping.

BOOM!

24th August 2012
17:17 GMT -5

In his exercise vault Scott performs a diving leap, evading laser fire from eight different turrets while picking his ankle manacles. His eyes flick my way for a fraction-

A laser hits his wrist manacles and melts the lock.

-and then he weaves around two spinning blades.

"Hey Grayven." "Hey Conquest."

"Afternoon, Scott. You got a minute?"

"A minute?"

Hands free, he inserts a piece of metal into his neck-mounted bomb collar, unlocks it and tosses it aside seconds before the timer runs out. There's a clunk as the pneumatic drive in the inside of the collar constricts, then it hits the off button and the weaponry powers down.

"No explosive?"

"I can't keep blowing up perfectly good collars in practice; I'm not made of money." He walks towards the exit, picking up a towel and dabbing his neck as he comes towards me. "What do you need?"

"A duplicate of me is bringing a fleet to Vega to take it from me. I think I need to talk to Orion, and I'd like you to back me up."

He stops moving for a moment as he considers it. Then he nods.

"Okay, I'll tag along. I've got a few things I wouldn't mind saying to Highfather myself."

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th August 2012
17:29 GMT -5

"Grayven…" Scott stares at me through the eyeholes in his Mister Miracle costume in apparent bewilderment. "What are you wearing?"

I shift uncomfortably in my 'revised' costume.

"What?"

"I've seen you wearing something other than your armor twice, and one of those times was on T.V."

"You wear your costume a lot."

"I wear my costume when I'm working. I'm a t-shirts and slacks guy most of the time. Is this..?" He floats around me on his aero-discs, looking me over. "Is this supposed to be camouflage?"

I sigh. "I thought that my usual grey armour was a bit too much of a visual reminder of Father. As for this…"

6th April 2012
10:13 GMT

"…why you think that I would want anything to do with a brute like you!"

Rarity glares at me, and stamps her right forehoof before lifting it back to her chest.

"Because I'm giving you the perfect opportunity to revenge yourself upon me for my brutishness. I'm asking you to design clothes for me, someone with no taste at all. I have no ability to assess your work. Whatever you make for me, I will wear at least once, and the only requirement I have is that it be at least somewhat red."

She… Considers. "You'll wear anything?"

"Anything."

She huffs. "Tempting as that is, I simply cannot deliberately design something that isn't magnificent. Fabulosity might as well be my middle name."

I didn't know she had a last name.

"But could you design something that would be fabulous in a very particular situation, but look ridiculous anywhere else?"

"Such as?"

"You wouldn't wear the same thing to a diplomatic reception as you would to a spring clean, would you?"

"Well, of course not." But her hoof is down on the ground and she's looking thoughtful. "And you'll wear it?"

I nod. "And I'll wear it."

She leans forward, staring at me sceptically.

"Hmmmmmm."

24th August 2012
17:30 GMT -5

"I just wanted to fit in with you and Orion. All the sons of Darkseid are wearing red this year." I nod at the empty space just in front of us. "After you."

"Mother Box?"

"Ping."

BOOM!

He holds his right arm out to the tube. "After you."

"Yea-I-. I think you should go first. They're a little more likely to ask questions if they see you. I'm probably 'shoot on sight'."

"But if I go through first, they might think you're chasing me."

…

"Fine, okay."

I walk through the portal, appearing in a grove on a planet quite close to New Genesis. While Apokolips has The Waste, New Genesis has protectorates. Places which rely on the gods for their defence. And worship them, and are stupefied into maintaining a low-tech civilisation aside from anything the gods grant them.

That about says it all. New Genesis: better than Apokolips. Just.

Scott flies through a moment later, then the tube shuts down. Okay, boom tubes are noisy things and easy to detect, so-.

BOOM!

Scott braces in the air as a new tube opens over our heads, ready to jink in any direction to avoid attack. I just make a point of keeping my hands away from my weapons. Of course, this might not be Orion. If they're sending the Forever Children I'm going to be-.
Defend! / Ping.
Orion flies through, looking as Father Box told me he would. His astro-harness is grey rather than gold and he's got black trousers rather than red leggings. He's also a good deal more slender than I was expecting. He's muscular, but he's nothing like Kalibak or myself.

But no astro-bolts. That's a positive start.

I smile, raising my right hand. "Hail, Orion-."

"Apokoliptians." Unsourcely wretches! / Ping.

"You are, but I wasn't going to mention it." My smile broadens. "Now I can honestly say that I've met all of my brothers."

Scott straightens slightly, but he's still clearly ready to evade. "I'm only Apokoliptian because Highfather traded me for you. If you're wondering, I'm not exactly happy about being handed over to the God of Tyranny."

"Leave this place. Both of you." Purge the Unclean! / Ping.

I nod. "Happy to do that, but I do need to talk to you. Have you got somewhere else you'd prefer do it?"

"No. There will be no debate. Leave, and thank me for my mercy." Destroy the Apostate! / Ping.

"Hold on." Scott rises in the air, heading slowly in Orion's direction. "Are you telling me that after all these years my father has nothing to say to-."

The astro-bolt narrowly misses his face as Orion glares at him imperiously.

"It is for his sake that I do not simply destroy you where you stand."

"Scott, I…" I shake my head. "I don't think this is going to work."

"Yeah." Scott descends, tapping his Mother Box. "I can't believe that my father passed me over for this." Poisonous Key.

BOOM!

With one last look up at Orion, Scott flies through the tube back to Earth.

I linger for a moment, waiting until Orion's hands tighten around his harness's triggers.

"I know that of all of us, I resemble our father the most. But seeing you there, staring down at people who came to you in peace to exchange words… It's interesting to see how all of Izaya's efforts were in vain. It is you who is truly our father's son."

Mother Box quick.

Ping.

Orion's jaw is shaking in rage as he pulls the trigger, astro-bolts eating through my construct shield-

BOOM!

-as I drop through the portal to the Vega trench and close it behind me.

Okay, this is roughly where Other Grayven would have to fly through to reach us in a line from his old base of operations. This is the best I can do. Ring, take us to Tamaran.

By your command.

 

[Mr Zoat]

25th August 2012
00:40 GMT

The juluuni are an omnivorous species who look a little like oversized pangolins. Their distant forebears were burrowers, but they didn't burrow deeply. According to archival data from before the Reach conquered them they tended to live in shallow subterranean homes and be completely ruthless about adapting their environment to suit them. Even after they developed the technology to detect mineral deposits underground with reasonable precision, they actually preferred to strip mine. By the time they developed faster than light travel their homeworld had no more mountains, a fact which can't be explained by efficiency.

And no one has seen one for about four hundred years, when the last surviving settlement they had away from their homeworld was absorbed by the Reach. Their actual homeworld was absorbed nearly two thousand years ago.

The ships I'm looking at match the general outline of the files we have for their ships. The larger ships are essentially cones, the pointy part covered with guns. Their FTL drives are supposed to be pretty good -precise, if not all that fast- and their sublight manoeuvrability is relatively poor. They never really had anything to do with the Controllers and none of them have ever served in the Darkstars.

I take a look around. Eight battleships, none of which are on record as having existed while they were still autonomous. Twenty cruisers, and about five hundred automated gunships. They use those instead of more conventional fighters, and according to my records are quite happy to just dump them and move the larger ships off without them. They act more like mobile flack than conventional fighters and exhibit only fairly simple behaviour. It's a decent sized force. Unless they've brought Scarab Warriors along then Orange Lanterns could handle it, but a L.E.G.I.O.N. fleet would take casualties. Assuming that they could get into position fast enough. I'm not.. seeing any Reach naval vessels, so I'm not clear where their fleet would be retreating to when we started going after it…

I don't think I can learn any more with passive scans. Originally, none of these ships had anything that could interfere significantly with the effects of a power ring, so let's have a go.

Scans show… Shields, weapons and power all slightly improved. FTL… Altered but not strictly improved. It will allow them to make short FTL journeys more quickly but will fall off in performance if they try to travel longer distances. Which.. means… Aggressive deployment. Not hitting and running. Jump into the area, jump into contact, jump into bombardment position before reinforcements arrive… But if they get caught, they're done. The Reach don't design their own ships to work like that. Their people aren't disposable. Their commanders want the option to pull out and try again another day. These ships don't really have that.

Perhaps more importantly, I have enough information to know that I can destroy this fleet without much difficulty. There's no obvious reason to preserve any of the crew, but genetic samples will allow their species to be resurrected later if we decide to take that route. Grab a few samples for the-

Drives flare and the fleet vanishes.

-l.. ab..?

Where are-? There they are, not too far away. Not sure why they carried out a short jump. Practice? Security? They've left their gunships behind and they're… Patrolling?

They're irrelevant. With stealth less of an imperative now that I'm not leaving a trail back towards my base ship I don't have to move quite so slowly. I mimic the effects of their FTL drives and go after them, appearing within a few metres of the hull of one of the battleships. Their shields… Are designed to block phasing objects, but their launch bays need to drop their shields in order to launch… There they go. And.. through…

Since the launch bay isn't designed for people, it isn't anything like as spacious as normal launch bays. The factory units spit the gunships almost directly out of the mothership, the rest stacked one atop the other off to the side. But the area is accessible by engineering crews, so there's a door… With no anti-phasing shielding. I fly through there and start looking for somewhere to access the internal computer network.

The corridors are fairly roomy, which, again, is a feature their ships used to have. Short range scans pick up scale-fragments and DNA, but I won't actually take physical samples until it's time to act openly. I'm not seeing anything that would easily detect me, but all it would take is one scarab attached to one of the crew and the jig would be up.

Here we go. Maintenance hatch. Locked, but there's no force field and.. no damage detection in the structure of the metal. I take position, phase in and trigger my armour to extrude an exploratory cable, which punches through the hatch and worms its way down and inside. Cable there, carefully interface and link in…

I can't request data. For that I'd need log in details or to interface directly with the central database. But I can monitor data traffic and see what's going on.

And the answer is… Not a lot. Internal monitoring doesn't appear to refer to the central computer on a routine basis, which would be a weakness in some circumstances but doesn't make much difference for me. Gunship production figures are being sent, but only an automatic acknowledgement is being sent back.

Ah, none of this matters. A hundred or a thousand won't make any difference to me. I need to find the crew, examine them and then destroy the ships. Nothing I'm getting identified the crew's location, but empathic vision… There, that'll do.

I withdraw the cable and fly in the direction of what appears to be an engineering workshop. Out of combat these are usually fairly quiet, while in combat they'll be a frantic hub of repair requests and damage control teams. If they're waiting for attack orders then they shouldn't be running drills because the last thing they'd want is to have anyone out of position when the shooting starts, but that doesn't mean that they'll have a full house.

No one in the corridors, but I don't know enough about their fleet doctrine to know how unusual that is. Their shields should block most forms of teleportation so they might well have decided that marine patrols were superfluous, and since this is a warship there wouldn't necessarily be a lot of traffic. Door to the engineering station is through there…

Ah, my first juluuni. It looks like they're working to turn ore into refined metals, but taking a look…

Huh.

Okay, it seems that I was being a bit too harsh on the Reach. Someone deviated from the 'acquiescent, quiescent, obsolescent' paradigm. These people aren't just suppressed, they genuinely don't have desires outside being useful to the Reach any longer. Their neurology has been redesigned… Yes, and their genes as well to ensure that future generations are the same. Their endocrine system has had a bit of a rework…

So. This is what the Reach has planned for us. The propaganda value will be significant if I can grab a few and record their responses to interviews. But there's no point in grabbing these individuals…

Huh. For a moment I'm reminded of what Zauriel said about angels. 'I am uncertain as to whether my mind is truly more limited than that of a deeply devout Human. What do you believe that free will means? What is it that you think that I lack?'

I mean, I haven't seen a Reachian since I got here, and a look out across the fleet shows me no one with their particular desire set-up. Scan instead… Yes, no-

"BLAUGH-IGH! BLAUGH-IGH!"

-sign of them, but that did set off the alarms and flashing warning lights. And-. And that was a jump; the fleet moved again. So they have a way to detect ring scans, and my initial scan may well have been the reason for the last jump. It might be interesting to have Ranx or Mother of Mercy use their rings to do extreme range scans of the entirety of Reach space and see what happens.

Any sense in drawing this out further? No, I don't think so.

I drop stealth, construct spears impaling the engineers in this section. A thick construct cable worms its way into the local computers and begins demanding data, while a crumbler construct punches its way through the multiple decks between me and the computer core. There are all sorts of protocols for wiping computers during boarding actions, but the fact is that if you wipe your own computers every five minutes it's very hard to get anything done. There has to be a delay while a report is confirmed, and it isn't that easy to-.

There's a flare as a fission explosion destroys the computer core. And… We've dropped shields and-. And the room shakes slightly as the rest of the fleet starts shooting at us.

Alright then. If

that's all it

takes, I'll take this ship's computer core into subspace and

then try

this ship's bridge crew.

 

[Mr Zoat]

25th August 2012
00:44 GMT

Desire suppression and grab.

Juluuni officers fight weakly due to their training, but there's no passion to their actions as they're pulled across the bridge to me and stuck in a construct constraint box. I take a fraction of a second to send an interrogation command to the ship's computer, triggering its self-destruct.

"…of the Restitution, report in. If you do not respond, you-"

Singularity beam.

"-will be considered-"

I swing the beam in a low arc, space distorting as it slices through the ship's interior and out into space. Lights in the lower part flicker and die as I replace the projector with a construct jack and shove the two parts of the ship away from each other like an angry pearl inside a mussel.

Situational awareness, ring. And interdiction field.

Compliance.

The ships are manoeuvring, spreading out and-. Huh, they can eject their gunship production modules. That lets them flush their stores faster, but… They can't make more. And it looks like that's an emergency action that can't be easily reversed, creating a critical weakness in their hull. On the other hand, against most Lanterns it's probably the best thing they can do. There are now a lot of flak turrets out there.

Let's do something about that.

Positron beams, track and rapid fire.

Two weapon constructs appear just in front of me, aiming through the growing gap between hull fragments with their containment vessels glowing purple. Rays leap out, each one existing so briefly that the human eye can't truly see them but firing so quickly that there's a purple haze to the air. The positron beam doesn't convey a lot of antimatter and compared to a true lightspeed weapon it's somewhat slow, but the gunships are unshielded and close enough and predictable enough that every shot is a kill. Really, I'm just trying to lure out any Scarab Warriors who are on-site and feeling-

I feel it as half the fleet tries to jump out. They disengage their drives in good order when they realise that that isn't going to be happening.

-lucky. They aren't used to being weaker than their opponents. It's not just me: in all other encounters with Orange Lanterns where the Lantern has lived to report back, the Scarab Warrior has stubbornly refused to quit the field. Oh, they'll evade an attack or fall back in the face of numbers, but they just refuse to give up. I wonder if it's a programming error?

The battleships turn, accelerating away from me at their best sublight speed. While they do that the cruisers cluster closer, trying to line their guns up through the gap in the hull to get a clear shot at me. Not a terrible idea by any means, though the prow-mounted guns of the battleships mean that they can't add their fire to the attack while moving away from me.

Incoming message.

I reform my singularity beam projector and aim it at one of the more on the ball battleships that is firing at the upper portion of my 'shell' as it turns.

Play it.

I fire, cutting a plane through its main drive and reaction mass reservoir. No explosion, because I'm using a gravity weapon, but as I send a positron beam that way… Yes, there we go. The battleship massing goodness knows how many tonnes jerks in space at the force of the detonation, the hull coming apart from the inside.

"Illustres, you are still alive."

I recognise that voice.

"And you're out of qwa-matter. Good effort, though."

I aim and fire the singularity beam through the hull covering me, cutting through the battleship furthest away from me. I don't want them to think they can escape. I want them to stick around and try fighting me, because if I have to chase after them it'll waste my time. Shots from the cruisers are sporadically hitting my construct armour and the positron beams aren't doing anything to their shields.

"Your construct defences are impressive. I will have to use a bigger bomb next time."

A scything motion from the singularity beam and the cruisers aren't quite so aggressive any more. Given all of the options that a power ring grants its user, I feel that I'm being a little boring here. But… Well, when one form of attack is virtually always superior in effect and there's no way that you can cow the enemy into submission with a more showy attack… It just makes sense.

"No, no, the qwa-matter worked. The problem is that I'm immortal."

Now, do they have enough free will to work out that there must be a reason why I'm staying in one place? Oh, ring, acquire genetic scans of everyone in the region.

Compliance.

"That seems unlikely."

"And yet, here we are."

I replace the jack construct with an oversized clamp construct and push, lifting that half of the ship off me to give myself a better angle. Usually, I'd request an opponent's surrender by now. Or they'd offer it.

"You've got data on qwa-matter explosions and construct defences. You know that there's no way I blocked that."

But there's only so many times you can have someone suicide bomb your prisoner handling units before you learn not to do that. Still, it would be interesting to see how much freedom their admiral has, and the additional biological samples could be useful.

"Orange Lantern Illustres to surviving juluuni vessels. Power down your engines and surrender, or I will destroy you."

The next shot with my singularity beam goes through the bridge of the crippled cruisers. Two lucky effectives in that class left, and a few dozen gunships who dodged behind something.

"True to the Writ we live. True to the Writ-"

Track transmission and fire.

Compliance.

"-we-."

That battleship gets cut in half lengthwise.

"Die, yes. Anyone else?"

Mildly interesting, though. The Reach don't usually perform that sort of indoctrination. Loyalty to the Reach as a political entity, yes, but they don't share their religion with aliens.

The battleships open fire en masse, the ship around me still intact enough to block most of the opening barrage. I swing-.

A small bolt of energy hits me in the faceplate, and I turn to see that… Huh, okay, I'm impressed. A couple of juluuni marines made it this far, breaching the bridge and getting a shot off. My positron beams-.

No.

My railgun shots cripple their arms and legs, then I grab their weapons and destroy them before shoving the marines into my containment unit. They earned that.

But no one's surrendering. And looking at their desires, no one is even considering it.

Singularities all round it is, then.