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

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
14:01 GMT -6

"Good afternoon, children!"

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

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

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

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

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

"But let's start with the basics."

Ring, holographic display.

By your command.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I point him out. "Rock?"

"Jasmine Abbott."

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

"Three."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That gets a few confused expressions.

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

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

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

"The one with the most votes wins."

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

Hands go up and I pick one.

"Electoral colleges?"

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

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

"Single transferable vote."

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

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

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

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

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

"The party with the most Members of Parliament?"

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

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

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

"And if there's no majority?"

"Ah… Other parties as well?"

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

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
13:09 GMT -5

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

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

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

"Do you require additional assistance?"

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

"In that case, I will-."

Blinding white light fills the living area!

"Be not afr-!"

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

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

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

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

Ugh, the one angel who gets that.

"Why are you here?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kaldur and I glance at one another.

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

Zauriel smiles sadly.

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

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

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

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

He shakes his head. "No."

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

"Name it."

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

"A beatitude upon you for your charitable work."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ready?"

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

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

"Someone before Jordan?"

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

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

"Are you talking about Malvolio?"

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

"Why did they tell you?"

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

"And Jordan?"

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

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
08:27 GMT

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

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

I glance upwards for a moment.

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

"He work in a shipyard or somethin'?"

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

"Thing I don't get?"

"Yeah?"

"What's he need a spaceship for?"

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

"So it's a flyin' hotel?"

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

"Sensor-masking and active cooling."

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

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

"Yes?"

"What color is it, smart guy?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Hm?"

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

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

"Guy? Have you been paying attention?"

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

"Adom mentioned that one of his old-."

"Pretty sure Whaler wasn't a Lantern."

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

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

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

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

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

"Was that so hard?"

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

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

"Is that possible?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
11:43 GMT

"Megatron."

"Megatron."

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

Guy squints. "Huh?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Guy shrugs and shakes his head. Damn casual.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"A…" … "A…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I-."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And if they don't?"

"Then they've got-"

"We are arriving."

"-one extra Lantern."

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

Guy pulls himself out of his chair.

"Alright then. Let the shit storm commence."

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
11:51 GMT

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

"This will be immensely politically difficult."

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

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

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

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

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

"Fine. Talk."

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

"I did not escape. The crew fled."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not in most place-."

Xor bristles. "Why would I hide myself?"

"What were you planning on doing?"

"Confronting my accuser directly!"

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

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

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

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

"But..?"

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

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

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

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

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

"You are a War Hound?"

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

"You are unusually fortunate."

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

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

Oh… Eris.

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

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

"Yeah?"

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

"But he would recognise you."

"Yes."

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

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
13:22 GMT

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

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

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

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

"One moment."

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

He takes it cautiously. "What is it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're an.. officer."

"Honor Guard Lantern Guy Gardner."

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh yeah? What was that then?"

"Medical euthanasia."

Guy's environmental shield grows a little brighter still.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do that t' any regular kids?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Loyalty?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You didn't read them yourself?"

"I had no need to."

"Are you aware of any similar cases?"

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

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

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

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

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
16:57 GMT

"None?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I am a fall guy."

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

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

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

"Yes."

"They ever find out who sent 'em?"

"I don't know."

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

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

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

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

"Sure, orders away."

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

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

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

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

"Yeah?"

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

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

"What's that mean, exactly?"

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

"She is in danger?"

Ring, access data stores.

Compliance.

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

"I'm thinkin' about it."

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

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

"True. Xor?"

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

"Nothing specific on record."

"She will.. recognise me."

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

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

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

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

"Alright. Guy, shall we?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
17:09 GMT

"Hey."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I raise my right forefinger to my head.

"-in eight minutes-"

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

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

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

"On."

I turn away.

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

I hear Guy's snort.

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

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

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

"Sure thing."

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

"What is your name, Orange Lantern?"

Ring.

"Illustres Paul."

"And what is an Illustres?"

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

"And the Orange Lantern Corps is the same?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mm. Teleportation?"

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

She nods. "What species are you?"

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

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

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

"You have so many that you forgot one?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Huh?"

Guy looks towards the balcony-

Armour, construct armour, construct armour for her-

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

-and a kinetic barrier-.

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

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

I take a step back.

"Ms Ton, are you alright?"

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

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

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
17:14 GMT

"Yes Father, I'm fine."

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

"Paul, you wanna..?"

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

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

"Your guys say anythin' yet?"

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

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

He glances up. "Fixed the roof?"

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

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

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

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

"Nah."

"That's… Unfortunate."

Guy frowns. "How come?"

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

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

"After.. questioning them."

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

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

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

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

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

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

I stand back up, Guy looking at me askance.

"What was that?"

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

"Compliance."

Xor's head appears over my ring.

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

He nods, then his head vanishes.

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

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

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

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

"'kay?"

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

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

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

"Guess it beat having them euthanized."

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

"But they ain't."

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

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

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

"What happens when they work it out?"

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

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

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

"Why do you care so much?"

"My mother used to work in their laboratories."

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
17:18 GMT

Guy's eyes narrow.

"Doin'… What?"

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

Ring, one way transmit to Xalitan Xor.

Compliance.

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

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

"You believe that he was innocent?"

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

"'Had to'?"

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

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

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

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

"Did they tell you what happened-?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Xaly?"

"The ship crashed close to our-"

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

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

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

"I did not know that they threatened you."

"Of course you didn't."

"Your father spoke only to curse me."

"He thought that he had to."

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

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

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

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

"No."

Xor's environmental shield flares.

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

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

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

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

"We do as we are ordered."

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

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

"Why?"

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

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

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

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

Connection lost.

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

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

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

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

 

[Mr Zoat]

6th February
17:18 GMT -1

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

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

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

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

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

"Those grey things?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We could set something up."

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

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

Hmm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Be a pretty good trick if it were true… And from the sounds of it Mr Hyde hasn't quite managed to free himself of that 'grand supervillain alliance' nonsense. "Could you be a little more specific? Is she ridiculing your plans? Issuing orders to your troops?"

"She's coming on to me."

…

His face remains calm, but I can feel how uncomfortable he is telling me that. Big tough male supervillain making a sexual harassment complaint. But, if she's making him uncomfortable…

"As a result of her rejuvenation process, Queen Clea is currently going through a reverse menopause. A predictable result of this is a substantially increased libido. You're an attractive single man with the sort of character she respects, and given your own history it doesn't seem unreasonable for her to assume that blonde Atlantean women are your thing. Now, if you want me to tell her to stick an icepack on it-."

He frowns. "You think her interest is genuine?"

"I'd need to actually ask her, but it's a distinct possibility." I shrug. "Long or short term, I can't say. Or she could just be flirting."

His frown deepens, his gaze growing distant. "Huh."

"So do you want me to intervene, or should I leave you to it?"

"You didn't set this up, did you?"

I let out a bark of laughter. "Ah, no. I'm nothing like that subtle. Last time I tried setting two colleagues of mine-."

BANG!

We're both on our feet, him with missiles targeted and me with daiklave in hand as-.

I relax as Adom comes through.

"Grayven. Manta."

"Adom. Is there a problem?"

"The auguries say that Oggar has taken note of Circe's restoration, and with Mordru dead there is nothing to prevent his return. Circe believes that we can lure him into a location of our choosing, but I no longer have the Wizard's support. I am not certain that I can defeat him alone."

"And with Circe?"

"She is eager to face him, but she has yet to regain her full strength. I am.. reluctant to risk her."

"Hmhnmhaha! Adom, I doubt that she'll let you stop her. But." I walk over to him and take the sheath containing the Sword of the Fallen off my harness. "You can borrow this. That should even things up a little." Empower the Champion!

He pulls the Sword a short way out of the scabbard, then nods at me. "Thank you. You do not intend to participate directly?"

I shrug. "I will if I need to. But… By Apokoliptian standards, this is a perfect date for you and Circe and I'd be a heel to involve myself."

Adom frowns faintly. "Da.. te..? I…"

"She wasn't exactly being subtle, Adom. Hunky super powered god-king like you seems to be just her type."

"That…" He steps back towards the boom tube. "I will.. consider your words."

He steps through, and the tube shuts down.

I turn back to Mr Hyde.

"When I set something up, it looks like that."

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th February
05:05 GMT

"O-kay."

I look around the cargo hull of Xor's reclaimed ship.

"Ten thousand bleed fracture personal communicators designed to look like commercially available brands with text, sound and video recording and transmission. Effectively unlimited data storage and able to interact with government monitored channels and charge from commercially available power points."

Onigar picks one up and taps the screen, working her way through the menu.

"I… Can see the use of it. But I was expecting you to do something more aggressive."

I shake my head. "Not a good idea. Intervention-in-force would require an army of occupation numbering in the billions. I don't have an army that big lying around." Though Dox is working on it. He probably could field a billion soldiers at this point, but most of them would be from allied worlds and their governments would only authorise them for fighting the Reach. "So we're using a prod-based strategy."

"Meaning?"

"Make it harder to get away with being bad, and make the punishment for grotesque violations extreme. So rather than citizens fearing government attack squads, malevolent government officials will fear the righteous retribution of Lantern Xor's team. Or such other individuals who might choose to act on the information they receive. And their own citizens will gain the ability to share evidence of malevolent activity with a device the government can't censor."

I shrug.

"This decay isn't the result of the activity of a single individual I could arrest or assassinate. Is it?"

"No."

"And I'm trying to ease up on mass killings. I'm.. afraid that this doesn't meet my threshold for that. This is… Going to have to be a long-term thing."

She looks around at the equipment racks. "How long will Xor be staying?"

"Until it's done."

"Doesn't he have other duties?"

"Yes: teaching me how to train people. Orange Lanterns aren't police. Police… Are supposed to be objective, disinterested servants of the law. Like Green Lanterns. Orange Lanterns fight the fights which matter to them as individuals. This is the most important thing in Lantern Xor's life." I shake my head. "I'd be a fool to try and order him away. When he's done… We'll see."

"Ten thousand won't be enough. My homeworld alone has a population-."

"While this is the most important thing in Lantern Xor's life, it isn't the most important thing in mine. This ship has the facilities to manufacture more but you'll have to organise that yourself."

"Avoiding the Alignment's fleet might be difficult."

"The ship has excellent stealth, and can move. And Lantern Xor is perfectly capable of moving the fabrication unit to a different location. But if you're directly engaging the Alignment's fleet then you're doing it wrong." I nod my head to the right. "I think. You know more about your culture than I do."

"And if I want to cause a civil war against a state ruled by the people who ordered my mother's death?"

I know that she doesn't, but I suppose that these things have a way of escalating.

"Then maybe that's for the best." I shrug. "I have an unusual insight into some areas, but my understanding of sociodynamics is nothing special. In the long run it may turn out to be better to have a war."

The door opens and Guy walks in. "You about finished in here?"

"I think so. You?"

"I'd rather have your job. Retribution missions ain't exactly in th' Green Lantern Corps playbook."

"On the positive side, you don't have to kill anyone."

"You don't have t' kill anyone."

"Yes, but if I did it wouldn't be a problem for me."

"Hm. You ever wonder 'bout that?"

"Occasionally. You picked a location?"

"Short term, sure. Long term I was thinkin' 'bout that place in Vega with the snailfuckers. Since yer headin' that way anyway."

"There's… Room, but I don't really want to dump a whole lot of different aliens in the same place."

"Hey." He pokes me in the chest. "You're the Illustres. You want someplace else t' dump people then plan fer it."

I hesitate before going with my instinctive response of 'I'd be happy just shooting them'. I don't think that argument would be productive.

"Isn't there a Green Lantern Corps marooning world marked out around here?"

"Sure. Problem is, th' Alignment's got good FTL. Ain't that hard t' find it."

"Fine, I'll take them." I won't be giving them anything more advanced than simple farming tools, so there shouldn't be that much trouble with the locals. And the Gordanians can take care of themselves. Need to check up on them when I'm there. "Need me for anything else?"

"Nah. Get outta here."

I nod and turn away, staring eyes unfocused. One nice thing about neural imprinting children with little or no life experience is that they end up looking rather similar to me. So the War Hound training facility is… There.

I raise my right hand to my forehead, and the ship vanishes.

To be replaced by another ship.

Interesting. I engage my armour's stealth systems and take a moment to look at it. The Alignment has been experimenting with FTL weapons, but their current generation have colossal power requirements that they struggle to meet. That results in them putting the guns on what are effectively battleship hulls, replacing large portions of the gunnery, armour and shields with generators and thrusters and turning it into an artillery vessel. It's not a terrible design, but the FTL weapon design they're using is more of a 'neat trick' rather than anything truly game-changing. Most of the power goes into bypassing physics rather than hitting the target, so this thing basically reaps small to mid-sized vessels and can't fight things of its own displacement.

Plenty of other ships in this area as well. The location isn't a shipyard-. No, it is, but for repair purposes only. They actually build their ships in systems with inhabited worlds. There are a few large space stations where they train a lot of their ship crews, and the planetside facility where new War Hounds are made.

It is nice that their technology doesn't let them track me while I'm actively evading them.

I point myself at the planet and activate my armour's thrusters.

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th February
05:24 GMT

I look back 'up' towards the Alignment's Reserve Defence Fleet, intended to rapidly respond to external attacks in what their strategic planners hope would be overwhelming force. Eight battleships designed with a focus on FTL speed, sublight speed and agility. An unusual design; most fleets which rely on dodging and carefully picking their fights don't build ships in their weight class, or else use them very differently. The Thanagarian fleets are far more typical in that regard: short-range attack craft flying from a brick of a Command Carrier capital ship.

As I understand Alignment doctrine, they aim to operate at medium range in order to get the maximum advantage from their all-lightspeed gunnery. Precisely coordinated fire from multiple ships striking vulnerable locations on their target without disrupting their own ability to dodge the enemy's slower than light return fire. Though I don't think it was deliberate, that weapon focus makes them reasonable counters to Lanterns.

Lanterns they can see, anyway.

There are six of the capital ship sized sniper vessels, though that's about all that their navy has of them while the eight true battleships only represent a quarter of the total number their navy possesses. Thirty cruisers of a variety of configurations. None of them are attack craft carriers, because there's not much point when you're using lightspeed weapons; everything you've got can target them efficiently outside of their preferred engagement range.

Add to that the heavy shields, armour and weapon arrays of the stations and the interdiction field generators strewn throughout the system, and… Yeah, this is a pretty good setup. But it's not a schizo tech setup. Everything here fits technological paradigms which are replicated all across this galaxy.

Except the-

Two cruisers flash into being near to my emergence point. Well, I was momentarily detectable. But they don't have anything that can detect me now, so other than giving me an idea what their response times are it doesn't really achieve anything.

-super strong infantry.

The thing about this galaxy is that species with ludicrous abilities are uncommon rather than nonexistent. As such, the fact that Xor had super strength didn't seem all that odd to me. Even the fact that his augmentations were artificial… Well, plenty of people on Earth could say the same thing about theirs.

But that's rather the point. Earth is unusual. Humans get all sorts of weird abilities. Other species don't, as a rule. Other species have to work things out the slow, scientific, step by step way. On the surface it looks like Alignment biotechnology should be extremely advanced. War Hound bodies can't run purely on chemical energy, and making bodies run on more exotic things is hard. And that knowledge wouldn't just be used on War Hounds. There should be organic power generators, organic starships… Organic everything really because otherwise they would have made the War Hounds cyborgs so as to have them synergise with their other technology.

But those things don't exist. There are a few possible explanations for that. The most obvious is that it's something they've gotten from somewhere else. A Qwardian Weaponer might have designed the bodies for them, except that they've been using them for longer than Varnathon has been in power. Which means that there would have been a political motive for the sale, and the Weaponers wouldn't have intentionally given them something they could reverse engineer or alter. But the Weaponers are hardly the only people selling sophisticated weapons.

They might have found something more advanced than they could make themselves, and only worked out how to use it and not how it works. Archeotech, that bane of anti-anachronistic historians everywhere. If it's a single piece controlled by the navy then there might not have been any spin-off benefits… Maybe. But a body biologically compatible with a brain from another species is a pretty unusual thing to build and then leave lying around.

Or maybe they have got good enough data control to develop a line of novel biotechnology and keep it… No, someone would have picked up on it, surely? Regional rivals, other parts of the government… A singular genius could develop the technology, but they'd need resources and.. they'd be monitored. It might take an outstanding mind to create those war bodies but it would only take a good one to reverse engineer it when they can see how it's being done.

So it's a puzzler.

I turn back around as I drop through the atmosphere and head towards the facility. At this distance I can easily pick out the individual bundles of desire that mark out the locations of the crew. The already trained War Hounds stand out, with their simple and strong desire sets clearly distinct from the confused messes of the yet-to-be-processed unowned orphans or the complex structures of the soldiers and civilian workers. Xor gave me a description of the interior, but he hadn't been back since his first year of service and he wasn't allowed to wander far. Risk a scan or plug myself into the facility's internals once I get inside?

I think I'd rather know in advance if they can detect ring activity, actually.

Ring, scan that facility and get me a map.

Compliance.

Data received and phase just in case…

Huh. The processing centre is well armoured, guarded and has an independent force field system, but there's nothing… Exotic happening there. No weird Bleed effects preparing to boot me out of the universe, no arbitrarily powerful magics… Sure, a lot of brainwashed people with plasma weapons and super strength, but those are comparatively simple to bypass.

And… It doesn't look like anyone detected that.

Huh.

Alright, I'm not going to complain. The facility's primary force field is not up by default, so… I can.. just fly through the walls?

I mean, okay, but…

I suppose that not everyone has a chunk of the Anti-Monitor's armour stuffed away in their secret research centre.

The exterior is thick enough to take a few seconds of orbital pounding before the shields go up, but I phase through it without resistance. On the other side is… Part of the force field emitter array. Nothing… Exceptional-looking about it. Solid construction, a few redundancies for when the strain starts to overload parts but not enough to be wasteful. That sort of overload is generally the result of holding off a sustained assault below its theoretical maximum failure threshold for a extended period of time. Generally, an attacker will give up or blast through before that really becomes a concern, but some planetside facilities are built this way.

No pressing need to do anything to it. It's possible to build remote construct bombs but I haven't really practised the technique and they're not any better than their more conventional counterparts. I could build a stealth explosive, but… It increases the risk of me being detected and… In the event that I did have to fight my way out it wouldn't save me much time. Best just leave it.

Bypassing the door and any sensors that are built into it I phase through the wall. A wide corridor, with a weakly armoured exterior-facing wall and a heavily armoured interior-facing one so that in the event the shield generator explodes the blast is channelled away from the armoured exterior without penetrating the facility. A short distance away I see a work crew doing something to the lighting system while an armed patrol is patrolling without any obvious haste. Regular soldiers, not War Hounds. Aside from the paint scheme they're equipped exactly as the police are.

Okay, I want to go down and inward. The primary computer core is my first stop, then the independent core used by the mental programming system. Those are near the bottom of the facility. Next are the living quarters, on the grounds that they're low-security and it doesn't matter all that much if they're overrun by attackers or destroyed by incoming fire. And-.

I stop halfway out of the wall as I see a child of perhaps… Five? Sitting motionless on a futon in the corner of a bare room. Her head is tilted slightly towards the floor and she's… Just… Staring blankly.

…

There aren't any female War Hounds. Since their artificial bodies are designed purely for combat there wouldn't be much point in including a womb or mammaries. But they'll take whatever brains they can get.

She's just going to sit there until… They decide that it's time to scoop out her brain. I suspect that her original body will then be destroyed as medical waste. Either that, or cut up for transplant parts. And yes, she won't be using them any more and she won't be dead…

But as unpleasant as that is, there's a reason why I'm here and Guy isn't.

I fly past her and drop through the floor.

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th February
05:31 GMT

There's… Barely enough space down in the computer core room for me to phase in. My heavy armour adds a great deal to my volume, and while I could have built dedicated stealth armour I decided that a more generalist suit was better for when the people trying to kill me have anti-phasing weapons and decent sens-.

I phase out again as a technician wanders back through the space I'm standing in. Oh, this is annoying. Don't IT people usually work from their own stations rather than hanging around the server?

The technician stops next to me and crouches, carefully removing a panel on the computer core's exterior and waving a probe-tool into its interior. Fine, he's going to be there for a little while. Keeping my stealth system active I phase back in and reach out my left arm towards the core. My gauntlet doesn't quite touch it, and.. in this position I don't think I can make it. But the gap is a few centimetres, my filaments are near-invisible and I can phase out before anything can react to me being here.

My filaments reach out… And that's the core. Load everything.

Compliance.

Personnel records… Yes, Onisia Van worked here, and allegedly left because the project was complete. Her appraisals are actually rather complimentary. Nothing about her death. Xalitan Xor's record… Huh, that is his original name. I suppose there wouldn't be much point renaming him, the mental programming would ensure that who he was before wouldn't be that important to him. And yes, they do dispose of the bodies as medical waste.

Hygienic.

Over five hundred thousand War Hounds currently in service, which seems a little on the large-. Ah! Because their fleet's weapons attenuate horribly when fired through an atmosphere, meaning that they can't reliably bombard ground targets. They have to land troops to destroy ground targets. And there isn't much in this region of space that could actually stop them. Even if the defending party shot their drop pod, they'd have a better than average change of surviving the terminal velocity fall and walking it off.

Records of the other transformation candidates, psychological evaluations of their own staff… Yes, even the Nazis had trouble with their soldiers having breakdowns so I can see why it might become a problem here. As would being too hostile to the children who will shortly gain the ability to smash you into mush.

A whole lot of basic information, more data to add to my map… Yes, there isn't anything in this facility that threatens me. If I didn't mind killing everyone I wouldn't even need the Ophidian's help. Still, no reason to get careless. I withdraw my filaments and phase, heading towards the system responsible for the mental imprints.

Corridor, corridor, large room which appears to be… Physical therapy for the recent conversions. Then another-.

There's a piercing beeping sound, and the soldiers on duty suddenly look more alert, preparing their guns. The War Hounds-in-training mostly look around in confusion or fall over in surprise. An alert of some sort. That… Shouldn't have been my fault. They don't have any way to detect me directly, and if me accessing the computer tipped them off then it would have sounded immediately. A drill then? Or have Xor and Guy started and this base is going active because of that?

Not an immediate concern. If anything, the fact that they're distracted will make accessing the programming system easier. I resume my journey. Part of a kitchen, a guard station with a squad leader querying what's going on over his personal communicator…

And here we… Are.

Oh. That's where they got the technology.

Technicians are entering what appears to be test data on the system. A system that bears a remarkable resemblance to the Citadelian laboratory I saw on Hny'xx. Ex-Citadelian..? No. No, they don't sell that sort of technology, and wouldn't be able to adapt it to a new species even if they did. A psion did this. They wouldn't see anything wrong with cutting out brains, reprogramming them and sticking them in new bodies. They also wouldn't be interested in doing the work themselves once they had the system up and running. Nothing in the files I acquired about a psion, or… This could be psions, and official effort of the government of Wombworld rather than the efforts of a few specialists hiring themselves out.

But they're not still here. They wouldn't let aliens fiddle with their equipment unsupervised if they were. And there's nothing about members of another species in the database. Psions have different diets to the locals, radically different behaviours and they're physically very dissimilar. They also take brutal revenge when someone does something stupid like killing their people at the end of the contract so that hasn't happened.

I guess-. No. This happened long before I went to Vega for the first time. But… I might have enabled the psions to do more things like this in other places. But again, they're hardly the only high tech arms traders in the galaxy. Don't know.

There are a batch of disembodied brains sitting submerged in techno-organic cradles as the device does its work. In another part of the room technicians wheel away the last of the debrained… Bodies, while the automatic cleaning systems get to work cleansing the stains left by the chirurgery. But, that means that the area is now clear for me. I fly there and then phase in and wait.

The alarm has stopped and none of the soldiers in here look particularly worried. I suppose that it would.. make sense to have this section on a separate system. Brains are sensitive things, and I doubt that they would want a great many additional variables from the children.

No, no one's reacting to me. I extend filaments from my foot into the room's floor, gradually working them towards the cabling below. Now, there wasn't anyone on the staff who was at anything like Onisia's level when it comes to this sort of programming. That seems a little short-sighted to me, but if the programming allows those subjected to it to be adaptable enough but not too adaptable… I mean, it's not as if their brains are going to redesign themselves and necessitate a programming update.

Connection established.

And that's the program. That's how you compel people to be honourable. Or at least how you do it by so totally shaping their schema that they can't think in other ways. And in my ring is the patch that will alter it to something a little different.

Now that I've seen this place, is that still how I want to respond? How much harder would the societal reform process become if I simply erased this facility? Answer: quite a lot, as national security is a very popular rally flag. Something that looks like an external attack will result in people affirming their loyalty to the state and its government. And Xor doesn't actually have a problem with the generality of what happens here. If the government had kept up its end of the deal he'd probably be trying to stop me. And Onigar was pretty clear about wanting to shut this place down once the current government is suitably reformed.

Upload complete.

I remove my filaments and repair the hole in the floor.

Yeah.

I look at the brains again, whose concept of honour will now include an inclination to gradually come to disparage a leader who demonstrates a lack of the qualities they hold dear. I certainly wouldn't create this, but… I'm not going to tear it down in this situation. The psion link on the other hand, that I do need to follow up on. Nothing on the main server, nothing on the system here. I don't.. think that the Guardians have ever tried to impose a galactic ban on dealing with the psions, if only because that would involve telling people who've never heard of them who they are, where they are and what they can do, but it would certainly give Guy more ammunition when the Guardians ask about this later if I can get hard evidence.

The facility's offices aren't far from here. The commander might have a separate system for ultra-secure records, though of course it's quite possible that there aren't any records here.

Ring, message to Lantern Gardner. 'Please attempt to secure records relating to contact between Alignment government and the psions.'

Message sent.

I watch as a new batch of technicians wheel in a tank containing a War Hound body, tubes from the monitoring system connected through the gaping hole in the top of the skull directly to the brainstem.

I phase out once more and head for the offices.

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th February
05:38 GMT

No… Nothing here.

It's a tidy, well-ordered work space, but the computer equipment is all part of the network and a quick poke around the interior hasn't revealed a separate hard drive or anything like that. So… Either they physically destroyed the records, or… The commander has a personal computer attached to her forearm, Pip-Boy style. I had assumed that it was just a personal interface to access the network, but it could have classified information on it. Getting data from there will be difficult, and…

Well, what happens if they do spot my filaments? I'm not sure if my presence has been announced to the general public. It probably wouldn't have been conveyed to a place like this. In the usual run of things. They know that we're concerned about this place by now. So the commander at least will probably be in the know. If they find out that I'm here that will prompt a full inspection of the facility. Which might result in them detecting the changes I made to the program, though I edited the log as well… A technician might notice it, but only if they went through the entire program and specifically remembered the original content of the part I altered.

And it's not as if they would suddenly gain the ability to stop me or anything.

Alright, according to the schedule the commander is currently overseeing the training of the senior War Hound recruits. That's in.. that direction-.

Message received from Lantern Gardner.

I phase out and fly in the direction of the commander.

Play it?

Message content: 'Psions?'.

Outer office, corridor…

Phase in. Response: 'Equipment similar to psion equipment. Suspect psion involvement in War Hound project'.

Message sent.

The most adaptable tool in the universe and I'm using it for text messages…

Phase out.

Hm. Actually… If I limit my environmental shield to the interior of my armour -which is simple enough- then there wouldn't necessarily be anything to link the Lanterns paying them a visit to the person breaking into their facility. It's not as if Guy and I were being subtle. Foreign intelligence services in the Alignment are going to be aware of us, and I doubt they're exactly going to be sad if their neighbour's elite infantry suddenly disappear. I haven't been wearing my heavy armour anywhere anyone might see it…

Huh. I emerge-.

Oh. Looks like we intervened just in time.

Or… Possibly not. I suppose there are plenty of reasons why they might be training their heavy infantry in aquatic combat besides a desire to invade the homeworld of the local aquatic Green Lantern. I phase through the water as War Hound trainees trudge slowly along the bottom of the tank, bringing their micro torpedo launchers to bear on designated targets and firing upon them. Up and up I go…

And out of the water. The facility commander is conferring with a small cluster of officers and non-commissioned officers on an observation platform off to one side, while technicians monitor each of the tanks. Plumes of water blast upwards as the torpedoes strike home and detonate, and the closest technicians brace and cover their faces against the water. Okay, high enough. I phase in.

"…system still not good enough."

"It's designed as a medium distance weapon. If we want to test it properly, we'll need bigger tanks."

I fly towards the commander. The ceiling of this room is probably designed to be high in order to accommodate larger 'sets' for their training exercises. I know from my own experience that super strength can be a little hard on your surroundings. Good access to the workshop area so they can build stuff like these tanks and move it into here without too much difficulty. Force fields in case of stray shots.

"These things are already dangerously big. I think we need to talk to the Section Unifier about field trials."

"They're never going to agree to that."

"He said-."

"Yeah, he said, but security-."

I tune them out as I approach my target. She's making notes, which… Ring, local or server?

Notes are being transmitted to the server.

Lights are… Dimish. And she's moving her arm a bit and there are a lot of eyes around her. There's quite a good chance of my filament getting spotted. Ring… track their lines of sight.

Compliance.

They're mostly looking at the tanks, the technicians, each other and their own arm-computers. The guards around them… They're watching all parts of the room but they're not really watching the walls. The ceiling of the main part of the room is getting some attention, but if I float over here…

I send my filament down the wall, across the small gap to the observation platform and… Up the outside of the uniform of the officer standing next to her. Then across the short gap and burrow through the outer casing…

Now let's see what we've got…

Sealed orders on what to do if the facility is compromised, fine. Nothing too shocking. In the event of the facility being overrun they're supposed to destroy the computers but not execute the children. Which I'm glad to read, because that means that I don't feel more inclined to destroy the place. Psion, psion,-

The commander negligently tries to brush my filament off.

-psion… Nothing. I let the filament move as she pushes it, but-. She turns back to look at it, a small frown on her face. Okay, time to go. Dismiss the filament, back away-.

"Did you see that?"

"See what, sir?"

"That…" She's fiddling with her computer, possibly trying to see if anything was accessed. "Strand of… Light."

Alright, time to go. I phase out and fly upwards at speed, parts of the facility flashing past too quickly for me to see what's going on. I could check the stations and the ships, but it looks like the Alignment has good data protection processes. I think I'll be better off with humanoid intelligence in this case. Find whoever arranged the trade and brand them into telling me what I want to know.

I pass out through the facility's roof and turn towards the sky, phasing back in-.

And stop in front of the facility's shield, which has now reactivated.

Hm. Strong impact can disrupt my stealth systems, but that should have been within tolerances. But there's a good chance that the shield registered the impact. I could teleport, but that would cause a flicker of orange. Hm. I phase and drop back down. Staff toilet is… This way, and only monitors people as they enter and exit. I'd rather not do this inside the facility but it shouldn't be a big problem.

One empty stall with… Hose attachments. Okay. Phase in and

step out and then

back inside the ship.

Onigar looks up as she sees the flicker of orange that marks my reappearance, but with my stealth still live I'm invisible.

I deactivate it, returning my power armour to subspace.

"Program updated, and I've gotten a lot of files for you to look through. How are the others doing?"

"They.. were doing well, but now the home defence fleet is moving into position."

"Then I'd best go and help, hadn't I?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th February
05:43 GMT

I appear next to Guy, shrapnel raining off my environmental shield as the wall near to him explodes. Guy glances my way, then edges towards the new exterior exit with a construct shield and a construct minigun.

"Psions, huh?"

"Looks like."

Plasma beams from the ground below strike Guy's shield to absolutely no effect as his minigun spins up. He grimaces as he opens fire, shots.. deliberately slamming down around the soldiers below in an attempt to suppress them. Most of them seek cover, but one tries dashing toward the building we're in. Guy has construct-rounds pepper the ground around him for a second, then with a small twitch changes the angle so that the shots directly strike his body. A series of explosions wreck the soldier's armour and throw him back with… Well, he's bleeding and bruised, but those are very clearly survivable injuries.

"How are things here?"

"We got th' message out." He glances back at the somewhat damaged main datacast centre. "Building's already evacuated. I'm jus' holdin' on so's they get distracted from Xor."

Totalitarian dictatorships are not -as a rule- particularly confident. If you overthrow a government and install your own particular flavour of political absolutism, both you and everyone around you know for a fact that someone else could do the same to you. So you get secret police and purges more or less at random because the leader needs fear, needs potential plotters too terrified to act against them. And so a frankly unnecessary amount of effort is put into media control, because speaking against the autocrat cannot be tolerated. Because the potential encouragement to overthrow the autocrat is far more important to the only person whose opinion matters than mere economics or crime.

The Alignment isn't like that. For a start it's an oligarchy. If you squint a little it even looks meritocratic. Pretty much everyone who is in high office started far lower down the totem pole and worked their way up. And it's existed for long enough that the elite offices are confident in their place in things. Perhaps not all of the individual office holders feel that way, but the government itself isn't worrying all that much about small slights. It's a little like China in that regard; a journalist who defies the party line is unlikely to be executed. They probably won't even be arrested. Depending on what they did, they might not even be fired… The first time. But if they keep at it they would eventually be rendered unemployable. And the people who do toe the line get promoted. So a certain… Culture is encouraged.

And Guy just dumped about forty years' worth of government misdeeds into the planet's communication network and made it… Practically impossible for the government to retract it. As long as we hold this building, anyway. Because the Alignment likes centralised data networks it can control, so it started using it for everything. So to shut this down from elsewhere they would have to shut down their entire data transfer network. Including commercial and military data transfers.

"Onigar says they've got ships coming in."

Guy's point defence constructs shoot a small volley of smart missiles out of the sky.

"And?"

"You can't teleport. They have lightspeed weapons. It's not impossible that they could kill you."

"Yeah, well, quantum uncertainty says it's not 'impossible' that you could turn into a tulip in three seconds."

"Maths is a hell of a drug. They could also drop War Hounds on you."

"Yeah, I guess-. Hang on a second."

He generates a construct anti-aircraft gun and opens fire at.. a small aircraft squadron. I'm impressed. He's using imbued energy pulses combined with a construct and he's still pulling his punches. I could achieve the results that he's achieving, but I don't think I could do it in the way he is.

"Got a little somethin' from Lantern Stel. Could make a real mess a' their internet."

"Which is why we're not going to use it."

"Yeah. Omni-adaptive data infection from Grendan. Figured I'd use it t' wreck a crazy AI or somethin'. Stick it in this an' they can say goodbye t' everything."

"Guy, we talked-."

"Yeah, yeah. Too much gun. An' I ain't got the slightest idea how t' turn it down." He dismisses his flak construct. "You ever pick up an acid mist weapon or somethin'?"

"Not one I'd want to deploy here."

"Fine. I figure if we fly over th' city, that should keep 'em off Xor's crew long enough to get their job done."

"Probably. You want to lead, or should I do it?"

"Does it matter? We're so far outside these guys' weight class it ain't even funny."

"We're in a city. I've never learned how to minimise the damage of flying over a city while spaceships shoot at me."

"Alright." He rises off the ground and generates construct armour. "Follow me."

He flies out of the hole in the wall, energy pulses from his ring forcing the soldiers back into cover. I head after him-. Hm, something exotic from me I think. I create a cold gun construct, this version copying Truggs' use of a gel reservoir. As I pass the soldiers I fire, surrounding them with walls of ice as actual cold beams hit their guns. The ice will eventually melt and.. if they won't wait that long they could risk someone else shooting them out.

Guy's slowing, glancing back to see what's taking me so long. I dismiss my construct and rocket after him. Been a.. while since I've done this. Flown over a city without a specific destination in mind. Teleportation and transitioning are just faster… I know John always goes on about it being the journey and not the destination, but… That's because he's a synchronicity-using street magician. He literally needs to stop and smell the flowers to function. I don't, but as Guy and I fly around a high-rise office building, I think… Maybe I should try to find time to do this more ofte-.

Green lights flicker out from Guy's point defence construct as he shoots another volley of micro missiles out of the air. The air.. car thing, it's not a proper aero fighter, targets us with its lasers. It doesn't have shields, and a pair of energy pulses from me render its primary weapons inoperable. I don't care that they're lightspeed. Firing something like that in a city is a bad-.

A power cell inside the craft explodes, making its frame shake for a moment before it starts falling from the sky-.

I grab it with a construct hand and roughly land it in the middle of the road, bystanders all having had the sense to get away once the shooting started. I follow Guy around another building, using the ring's scan to watch as the crew scramble from their vehicle.

"Come on."

Another two of those vehicles -I'm going to assume that they're the local equivalent of helicopter gunships- begin an attack run from above us. Lasers hit Guy's construct armour and are effortlessly absorbed. My armour is heating up slightly, but between my environmental shield and its construction I'm not worried. We duck around another corner and accelerate, moving at speeds just short of supersonic down a major road. It's been cleared as well, cars abandoned as their owners take shelter in the surrounding buildings.

I wonder how many of them are looking at what Guy broadcasted? I'm pretty sure that Xor will spend as long on this project as it takes, but for his sake I'd-. For his sake and that of the people of the Alignment I'd rather that it didn't take too long. We can show them what their government is like, but if Xor's the only one who's ever prepared to take action to change it then this will be a failure. I-.

Another volley of micro missiles, and this time I throw up a barrier to absorb the blasts. I wonder what they've been told about us? Most interstellar civilisations will hesitate to attack Green Lanterns, so has Guy been accused of killing everyone in the transmission centre or are they just that obedient?

I send out a construct spike, cutting into the antigravity system of one of the aircars and causing it to wobble in the air. Its safety system activates after a momentary delay and forces it to make a rapid landing. The other slows down, allowing Guy and I to pull away. There… Yes, a squadron of military atmosphere craft are flying in this general direction. Again, no weapons that could harm us…

"Lantern Xor to Illustres. Our work is done."

Nothing else, but that's the signal.

"Guy, we're leaving."

 

[Mr Zoat]

7th February
05:48 GMT

Guy slows slightly.

"You know you said those ships could hurt me?"

I fly past him, turning around to keep an eye on him as I do so.

"Yes?"

He looks up and then rockets towards the growing picket, construct rockets appearing around him to boost his speed. Ah, he wants to continue to hold their attention. Or make a point of some kind. Not sure. Alright, him flying through their formation relatively slowly should do that, as well as making a point about their relative capabilities. Would Guy survive? We haven't done much training with laser constructs, but based on their power output and Guy's defensive construct performance…

And assuming that none of them are green. And that he doesn't mind reflecting the shots at least a little rather than flat-out tanking them…

He.. should be okay for a little while. Now, do I follow, or..?

The squadron of aerofighters pulls upwards and begins firing at him. He's moving so much faster than them that sublight weapons would be worthless while those are just nearly worthless. Still, we're trying to keep this part to zero fatalities and the harder they push their vehicles the higher the chance of something going wrong. Like one of the ships taking a shot and their beam attenuating too much to hurt Guy but still being strong enough to melt their own fighters.

I send a photon bomb construct directly upwards and trigger it in their flight path. That should temporarily blind them and remind them that I'm still here. Now-. Ah, they're turning away from the blast and retreating, though the flight pattern… Some sort of emergency AI override? Alignment pilots work with better sensors and pilot-assistance than their human equivalents, but not good enough to maintain formation after losing the humanoid-visible part of the spectrum? I wouldn't have thought so.

Guy is taking fire from the smaller vessels now, the larger ships… Not wanting to risk hitting the city below him at their current angle? Nothing else flying up from the planet. Probably a combination of the fact that he's leaving and the fact that the fleet have far bigger guns. Nothing coming my way.

So what now? I can just teleport to Xor. I can attack the fleet. Or I can stand there next to Guy and let them shoot me for a while. But the point of this exercise is to undermine their faith in their government, not their faith in their military. And just tanking their attacks would make me feel stupid.

Ring, message to Guy. 'Call me if you need help'.

Message sent.

I take a last look around, then raise my right hand to my forehead.

Xor's facing away from me as I appear, but one of his new allies glancing at me and tightening his grip on his gun causes him to turn my way. He salutes me with both fists clenched at his chest.

"Illustres."

"Any trouble?"

He steps aside slightly, revealing the two rows of prisoners he and his team have acquired. Some are uninjured, some unconscious and others are bruised and bleeding. But none are missing limbs, and… Looks like nearly everyone on his target list.

"The rest?"

"We would have had to kill a great many other people to reach them."

I nod. "As you will."

"There will be other times. Where is Lantern Gardner?"

"Making a point to the fleet. Do you agree with his proposed sentence?"

"Yes. I want them alive and suffering. I want them available for a proper trial once honour returns to the Alignment's courts."

"Floor's yours, then."

Xor turns to his prisoners and raises his left hand, strands of orange leaping from his ring and touching each of his prisoners on the forehead. Those who were unconscious wake up with a start, and those who were injured… Their visible injuries shrink a little.

"Attend to me."

Faces blank, scowling and fearful turn in his direction.

"I am Xalitan Xor, formerly a War Hound of the First Array. For ten years I fought for the Alignment, and when I left the army I gained lawful employment first as a construction worker and later as a bodyguard. I was arrested for a murder I did not commit and sentenced to be transported, to spend the rest of my life in penal labour."

"I have decided that I will not let your evil stand."

"You all know what you have done. You have ordered the deaths of those who were politically inconvenient, without even having the decency to allow them trial by combat. Some of you ordered mine. Some of you ordered the deaths of other War Hounds who completed their term of service. But the punishment will be the same. You will be taken to an isolated world, given simple equipment and marooned there. You may die there. You may come to terms with your vices and become more than you are."

None of them say anyth-.

He's removed their voices. Which is a traditional Alignment punishment.

"It does not matter to me. But you will not affect others with your dishonour any longer."

He holds out his left hand and forces his ring off his finger.

"Or if you prefer a swift and honourable death, you may stand. You will be unbound and fully healed, and then we will fight to the death. Whether you live or die, there will be no further examination of your crimes. Do any of you hold your honour in high enough regard to die for it?"

Some of the prisoners look at one another, but no one rises.

"You know what I am. You know how you programmed me to think. You know that my offer is genuine. Will you not affirm your actions one more time? Did not one of you hold a higher ideal in your heart? Do none of you have a belief you would die for?"

Still no movement.

"I am not surprised." Xor holds out his left hand and calls his ring back. "Take them to the cells."

One of his aides begins pulling prisoners to their feet and shoving them in the direction of the ship's hold.

Hm. Haven't heard anything from-.

"Illustres to Lantern Gardner. Still in one piece?"

"P-lease." Guy's face appears over my ring. "What kinda Honor Guard Lantern can't take a little fleet? Be with yah in a couple minutes."

"See you shortly." I look over to Xor. "I'm heading to Vega next, so if you want you can stay here."

"No. I will accompany you. I wish to see how you handle multiple groups of dishonourable people." He grimaces. "I believe that I will have to do that myself."

"Okay then. Next stop, Vega."

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd September 2010
23:02 GMT +3

"Artemis-."

Artemis wheels around to glare at me, jerking her hands up to the sides of her head in a sort of grabbing gesture. "Don't even talk to me."

I bow my head and raise my right hand in surrender. "Okay."

She lowers her hands, maintains her glare for a few moments to ensure that she's made her point, then turns away to stalk over to a dune on the far side of our temporary base of operations, Superboy and M'gann stepping back to give her room.

Wallace looks up from the sensor array he and Richard are working on. "What's her problem? Y'know, now."

"I'm.. afraid that it's personal." Kaldur frowns slightly at me. "And I'm sure that it won't be a problem going forward. I.. just gave Artemis a bit of a surprise and she's… Adjusting."

Wallace smirks. "What, did she ask you out without knowing you're the team token adult?"

"No, though I am meeting up with Patrick Dugan in a couple of days so we can compare notes."

Superboy frowns. "Who's that?"

"Stripesy." Richard doesn't look around from the scanner array. He also isn't having to look the name up. "The Star Spangled Kid's sidekick. They were both members of the All-Star Squadron during the Second World War. I think he was twice the Kid's age."

I nod. "A little over, actually. Robin, is that thing picking up anything my scans didn't?"

"You heard Batman, Oh El. Power ring scans aren't admissible as evidence."

"Right. Except that the reason why we're here is that the Justice League doesn't have legal authority to act in Bialya. We don't either, but… For reasons which I'm.. still not clear on, that isn't a problem because as a League-affiliated auxiliary body we aren't covered by the League's UN Charter in which they agreed not to do exactly what we're doing right now."

"That's about the size of-."

"But as we're a black operation squad, this can't ever come to court anyway. The League can't say that they took those scans without admitting to violating their Charter. They can't say that we did without drawing attention to a huge Charter-bypass that Batman is hoping that no one is going to spot and admitting that this team exists. Boom tube radiation requires specialist equipment to detect, so he can't claim that it was picked up by… I don't know, local physicists or something. And unless one of Bialya's neighbours decides that whatever's happening here is bad enough to declare war over, any follow up activity will have to come from us, because… Charter, black operation."

Wallace stands back from the machine, probably frowning under his mask. "So… This is… A complete waste of time."

"No… Ah… Maybe? Batman can get more of those sensors made and he can't get hold of more power rings, so maybe we're here to test it? Or this is a test for us?"

Superboy folds his arms across his chest and huffs contemptuously.

"Is there a…" Wallace waves his right arm. "Reason you're bringing this up now, rather than when we were in the cave?"

"Because Batman doesn't stop being intimidating just because you reach eighteen. Or, indeed, twenty nine. I didn't really think about it until we'd… Been here for a while."

"Oh man, this is exactly what Red Arrow said would happen!"

"Kid Flash." Kaldur regards him with mild displeasure. "Control yourself. We are in enemy territory."

"Yeah, and this…" He glances at the sensor array. "Thing, and Oh El's ring and Miss Em's telepathy and Supey's hearing will all pick up anything heading our way before either of us notice them."

"Even if this is simply a test, I do not want us to fail it. And neither should you."

"Huh." Wallace thinks for a moment. "Okay. So if this is a test, and we need to do these scans to pass, how do we ace it?"

Oh dear.

Superboy perks up slightly. "We could attack the site, beat up the guards and get them to tell us what's going on."

Oh dear.

Richard turns away from the sensor. "This isn't supposed to be an overt mission. It's not even a vert mission. And since it's covert, losing the 'co' means co-failing the mission."

Hm.

"Miss Martian? How good is your mind control?"

"Aaaahh…" She looks around the group. "Bad. Really really bad. Like I could maybe make someone move their arm when they didn't want to or something but I couldn't make them obey me permanently."

I nod. "I suspect that I can permanently alter someone's desires with this ring, but I don't really know how to do it either. Aqualad? Does the Conservatory teach mental domination magic?"

"Yes, but it is a specialist course, and only available to the most advanced students." He bows his head slightly. "My time studying combat under Aquaman has limited the time I have for arcane study."

I nod. "So we can't mind control Queen Bee into telling us what she's doing, stopping, and reforming the Bialyan government. I could try lecturing her on political theory, but I'm not sure that she'd listen."

Superboy frowns. "They're using the boom tube to bring stuff here from… Apokolips, right?"

I nod again. "Probably."

"So why don't we just blow it up?"

"Not very 'co', Superboy."

"Why? I mean, as long as they don't see us they still don't know the Justice League are the ones who stopped them. We can get Batman's readings and still stop them doing whatever they're doing."

"No." Kaldur shakes his head. "I understand your frustration, but this team is intended to act with subtlety. Unless there is a clear reason to break cover, we will limit ourselves to observation."

"Um." M'gann raises her right hand. "I could take a closer look? I can go invisible so the guards can't see me. And I can keep in contact with telepathy."

I shake my head. "Miss Martian, we know that Doctor Simon Jones is over there. Your invisibility doesn't prevent telepaths from hearing you, does it?"

"It… No."

"And Apokolips is very technologically advanced. If they're trading, then there's a good chance that the Bialyans could detect you even without him."

"They didn't detect the Bio-Ship."

"How do we know that?"

Her eyes widen slightly.

Richard nods. "Oh El's got a point. If they know we're here, and they know that the League won't stop them, and that the League wouldn't send someone unless they knew that something was going on, there's no actual reason for them to attack us."

Kon glowers. "So not only does Batman know this is a waste of time, the Bialyans do too?!"

Kaldur turns my way. "Orange Lantern. Are your scans precise enough to tell when Doctor Jones is asleep?"

"Yes."

"Once he is, Miss Martian will cautiously investigate the camp. Unless we uncover evidence that requires us to act immediately, that is all that we do. If any of you dislike the parameters of the mission, you may take it up with Batman upon our return."

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th September 2010
08:28 GMT -5

Kaldur and I stand as the United States' Ambassador to the United Nations Doctor Susan Rice walks into the conference room. Oddly, Atlantis doesn't actually have a representative here, which means that my first choice was impossible. On the other hand, Dr Rice has on several occasions spoken out against Bialya's human rights abuses and the whole… 'The nation is run by a supervillain' issue.

"Madam Ambassador, thank you for agreeing to see us."

She takes her place at the head of the table and Kaldur and I return to our seats.

"Gentlemen. You said that you have something I need to know about?"

I nod. "Yes. Ah, I'm sorry, I think there are a few things you need to know in order for.. the reason why we're here to make sense, and… How much do you know about galactic politics?"

She sits back slightly. "Not a lot. I know Krypton blew up and that Hawkman and Hawkwoman come from Thanagar. We don't even have regular communication with Mars. I don't think any country on Earth has diplomatic relations with any alien world."

"That's… I believe that Bialya does. A little while ago I.. detected… Very particular gravitational anomalies coming from a.. location in the Bialyan desert. Through observation I was able to identify the source as… Something called a 'Boom Tube'. It's… A particular type of wormhole portal. You can open one from anywhere to anywhere, and move… Anything from one end to the other. Anything that can fit; it takes more power to open larger ones."

"Okay." She nods. "That's worrying, but Bialya never signed the Ozma Accords. There's no obligation on them to declare extraterrestrial contacts."

"That's not-. If anything I'd be happy that countries on Earth were talking to more alien species. The problem is-. There are lots of different ways to travel faster than light. So… Usually, me detecting that a particular method had been used wouldn't tell me anything. For example, there are a dozen species who use gravitational spatial warping in this Sector alone. But… There's really only one species that uses Boom Tubes. And they're… Um, extremely dangerous."

"How so?"

"Their society is split into two competing groups, each occupying a different planet. But they're both… Fairly hardcore fascists. In the case of New Genesis, that only extends to believing that their leader is an unquestionable emissary from God, excluding the majority of the planet's population from their flying super cities and having a generally contemptuous attitude to other species. If Bialya were dealing with them… It might not be a problem. But the people of New Genesis don't deal with aliens very often, so it's more likely that they're dealing with the other guys, and that's very very bad."

"How bad?"

"Apokolips is a fully industrialised super-Earth controlled by an individual their culture identifies as the New God of Tyranny. It's a total autocracy, the majority of the population are slave workers conditioned to regard their conditions and misery as normal and good… It's not an efficient form of industrial production, but the point is that their leader derives power from their suffering. He's turned his entire planet, with a population of hundreds of billions of people, into a giant algemantic generator. They don't conquer and occupy places, but they do routinely invade planets and burn them back to the stone age. They've got a huge fleet, a huge army and their elite are the equivalent of mid to high tier supervillains."

Dr Rice's face gradually fell as I was speaking. "And you think Bialya is dealing with those people."

"I… Recovered an AI from New Genesis at the site which claims that they are. However, I can't authenticate its claims. If they were dealing with New Genesis it would obviously have reason to lie."

"And how can I confirm what you're saying?"

"I… Don't know what the process for formally requesting privileged information from a Justice League member in the know is, but any of the local members of the Green Lantern Corps should be able to confirm what I'm telling you. The Green Lantern Corps has fought Apokolips before and I'm sure that they have far more information than I do."

Dr Rice nods solemnly.

"And…" She looks at Kaldur. "What exactly is the Atlantean position on this?"

"I am not empowered to speak for the government of Atlantis. But as an Atlantean citizen, I have no desire for the Earth to be invaded by such a race of malevolent demigods."

"Are you two working together?"

"Orange Lantern has had little contact with the Justice League." And it's okay to say that for the purpose of a mission, even though it's obviously a lie. "As I do not have a secret identity, he came to me for advice on how to present this information. Since the Justice League is unable to operate in Bialya, I suggested that he come here."

She nods again. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Would you be willing to explain exactly what you saw to someone from the Central Intelligence Agency?"

I nod. "Yes, perfectly happy. I can even bring along the AI if that would help."

"Okay, I'll-." She blinks and look at me anew. "I don't suppose you've got a cell..?"

"Ah… Sorry, no."

"Okay. Phone my-" She passes me a card. "-secretary tomorrow, we'll give you a time and an address."

I take the card. "Thank you. Will you be talking to the League about this?"

"That's up to President Horne, but I expect so."

"If you do..? It.. might be worth asking for information on other galactic threats. So you can identify them early. There isn't all that much that Earth militaries can do against them other than.. fight their local agents and call in the League, but just knowing could save a lot of unnecessary difficulty."

"That sounds like a good idea."

Kaldur actually frowns. "Forgive me, but I am surprised that your government has not already done that. I know that King Orin has such a list."

"Yeah." Dr Rice frowns back. "Now that you point it out, it does seem a little odd. Rest assured I'll be pushing the President to do the same."

I nod, smiling. "I'm glad to hear it."

"Well. Thank you for bringing this to me. Is there anything else?"

I shake my head. "No." Kaldur and I push our chairs back and stand up. "And thank you for taking this so seriously."

"Thank you for coming to the government instead of throwing together a superhero team and charging in there." Kaldur and I don't flinch. "Dealing with rogue nations like Bialya is exactly the sort of thing the United Nations is designed for."

I nod. "Because none of the other permanent members of the Security Council have a stake in Queen Bee remaining in power."

"That's.. not.. quite how I'd put it, but it won't hurt."

The three of us file out, and Kaldur leads me in the direction of the exit. I'm.. feeling.. quite good about how that went. All of those comic book governments who basically exist to miss things that superheroes need to fix -when they're not backing the villains- rather made me think that this wouldn't go anywhere.

"That went well."

"Yes. Though I am not sure that Batman will approve."

"Intimidating as he is, keeping Batman happy is very much secondary to keeping the world uninvaded. If we can't arrest -or kill- the people doing this, we need to hand it over to politicians who can authorise extraordinary measures." I glance at him and smile. "I suppose working directly for King Orin lets you bypass that sort of thing."

He nods. "I imagine that my legal situation is more simple than that of our colleagues."

He presses the 'call lift' button and we wait.

"Will there be further difficulty between you and Artemis?"

"Ah… Probably."

"You had appeared to be cooperating well. What is the source of your dispute?"

"I-. Some of it's personal to her… A… Member of her family had a serious injury and I repaired it with this ring." Kaldur frowns. "And then I asked the person in question out to dinner. Um. Artemis is disquieted by that."

What I shouldn't-. Probably shouldn't tell him is that I'm dating Artemis' mother, and that while Paula and Lawrence had been separated for years they haven't actually divorced yet. And that seeing Paula and I kiss one another when she came back from patrolling Star City was a bit of a shock and means that she now thinks that I'm stalking her, rather than what actually happened which is that I met Paula through Jade.

"Given how protective American superheroes are concerning their personal information, I will trust that the two of you can resolve this without my intervention."

I nod. "Yes, we'll.. talk about it later today." We step into the lift. "I'm sure that we'll be able to sort something out."

"I am glad to hear it."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Jiggity-Jig

8th February
13:27 GMT

"Oh, good throw." I look at the x-ionised axe floating in the air just in front of my face. "And good reflexes."

Zaark just bares his teeth. It's a display intended to intimidate rather than a sign that he's about to attack, and given that throwing his axe at me didn't work I'm assuming that he realises that there isn't anything he could meaningfully do to me.

"Why are you here? Dumping someone else?"

"Yes. Well, technically one of my subordinates is, but I'm overseeing it so I thought that I'd see how you were doing."

He turns his head away, looking at the fields which the gordanians have planted around the homes they've built out of the remains of their ships. Most of them are filled with fruit-bearing vines, but a few have young trees and several have pens containing… Some sort of local giant slug-like animal. I say animal; given how the local semi-humanoids reproduce I suppose that I shouldn't assume that.

I'm not sure that Xor's collection of mid-to-high level Alignment politicians will take to farming in the way the gordanians have, but it isn't as if the gordanians had a lot more experience of it. Tearing Bite farmlands were -and probably still are- slave-operated, and exclusively on Karna. The ships imported their food from their clan mates, only growing small amounts onboard. And -of course- they never thought to trade with the Tamaranians.

"Fine. You've seen."

"I see you've been promoted."

He bares his teeth again. "Are you trying to be friendly?"

"Would you rather I be hostile?" I shrug. "You and I come from very different cultures. I realise that you haven't done anything that would be considered 'wrong' in your culture. I hope that you understand that you have in mine."

"And you're stronger, I know."

"That's not-. Well, yes. If I were weaker then I wouldn't be able to punish you. But if you were a member of my culture I would actually be punishing you, as opposed to… Putting you in a position where you were unable to reoffend and hoping that your culture will change into something less incompatible with my own."

He grimaces. "Yes, I've been promoted. I can't have my old rank back, but since we have no contact with the part of the clan which is still on Karna our elders can give me a different one." He snorts. "And since we won't get back in contact while I'm still alive, I'll probably die at this rank."

"Congratulations?"

"You can leave now."

I nod. "Okay. Is there anything that you need?"

My rings interpret his expression as a frown, though gordanian faces aren't mobile enough to actually frown.

"My intent is for this colony to function, but you were the first people I've marooned. It's possible that I missed something vital to your settlement's sustainability. If you tell me what it is-" He straightens his posture slightly, looking for a moment at the structure that's either a meeting hall or a canteen. "-then I'll get it for you."

"No. Between what you gave us and what we can make ourselves, we don't need anything. But many of us have family on Karna. I know you won't risk telling them what happened to us, but we want to know what has happened to them after you destroyed the clan war fleet."

I nod. "Reasonable. I should be able to find Tearing Bite easily enough, but if you have names or.. genealogies you want me to look into I'll need a list."

"Just.. get the central clan records. I'm sure your ring can take a copy without anyone finding out about it."

"Alright. Will do."

I raise my right hand to my forehead,

step out,

and appear next to Lantern Xor. "Everything set up here?"

The other members of his species are… The fact that they can't talk appears to be giving them some difficulty. Xor did think to give them simple typing pads so that the ones who don't know any sort of sign language aren't totally stuck for ways to communicate complex ideas. A couple are fiddling with the robot plough, a few more appear to be taking an inventory and one… Who used to be a military officer, is cutting down trees. Most are standing around or having a weird text argument that looks like it's only a few misplaced punctuation marks from a fistfight.

"Yes." He regards them thoughtfully.

"Having second thoughts?"

"No." He turns his head to look at me. "I am trying to work out whether or not it would dishonour me if they were to kill each other."

I think for a moment. "I don't see how it would. You've given them what they need to survive. They did some things that would be called serious crimes in more honourable societies and they're getting off more lightly than they'd let you get off if your positions were reversed."

"But I have judged them. I have decided that this is all they should suffer, until a court can make a new decision. I have not judged that they should die. It would be dishonourable to pronounce sentence and then change it."

"I don't think it's your fault if they fail to take advantage of the opportunity you're giving them."

"But if one did, and they were killed by one who did not, what then?"

"I would say that unless you deliberately set it up to happen like that, the murderer was dishonourable, their victim dies with honour and you are blameless."

"They are not farmers. If I ordered a recruit to take point position during an attack and they died, I would be dishonoured. It would be my failure to position them somewhere equal to their skills. If I take a position where I have authority, the results of the actions I oversee are my responsibility."

"Alright. You're going to be coming back here, right?"

"Yes. I think that I will add many more dishonourable people to this colony before my work is done."

"There you go, then. You've given them a decent start, and you can check on them to make sure that things haven't gotten too bad whenever you come back. A leader is generally responsible for the things that happen under them, but they can't reasonably be held completely responsible for every little thing. People are people, with their own will. Sometimes they just don't do what you tell them to."

He considers for a moment, then nods. "But if they did such dishonourable things, I would need to reconsider.. this."

"Unless they dealt with the problem themselves."

"Yes. It would please me to see that."

"Anything else you want to do here?"

"No. My War Hounds have turned the ship back towards Alignment space. I am ready to follow your orders."

"Alright. I need to check on everywhere, but I think that Tamaran is the most urgent place."

"Tamaran." His eyes glow for a moment. "The world you rescued."

"I'm sure that King Myand'r and Adam Blake know what they're doing, but as you were saying: I set up the situation. That makes it at least partially my responsibility."

"You gave their world two Lanterns. Why are you not more concerned about the other worlds in Vega?"

"Because Tamaran was closest to being something good. If I can't even manage to work out how to fix Tamaran, then I need to rethink my whole strategy."

He nods.

"Ready?"

He nods again, and we shoot towards the sky.

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th February
13:37 GMT

I float in space on the edge of the Liot'r system, watching the movements in near-Tamaran orbit. Hawk's Nest has been altered nearly beyond recognition since… Last July? The Thanagarian capital ships are floating in the void close to it, while what I assume is the new Tamaranean fleet is split between a defensive formation around the ex-Citadelian docking cradles and some.. sort of training exercise. I had been assuming that the Tamaraneans would either use their own pre-conquest designs or just use the Citadel's designs for ease of logistics, but these are something different. It could be the Thanagarian influence, but without Nth Metal their designs wouldn't really work…

Tamaran itself has changed as well. I can see new roads connecting the major settlements, and a slight change in colour around farming areas indicating that they're cultivating a much larger area. Roads have an interesting place in Tamaranean society. As the people can fly- and generally do so faster than they can run- they don't have the same utility for people-transportation that roads on Earth do. Historically, Tamaraneans didn't really bother with them, and they existed for only a relatively brief period before they moved to repulsor-based flying transport vehicles which didn't have the same need for prepared surfaces. But now it looks like they've decided that simpler wheeled transport vehicles are the way to go rather than use what technological know-how they have left on civilian transportation, and wheeled vehicles are fulfilling the expanded need to move goods and materials around.

Six months is nothing like enough time to undo the harm of forty years' malevolence, but I'm pleased with the start that they've made. I raise my-.

Space in front of me bends, and a ship-. I feel a momentary intrusion in my mind which is swiftly recalled, though Xor visibly winces. As the ship comes alongside us I see its name written on the side: the Cometeer. Not exactly creative-.

The man himself emerges from the rear of the craft, flying towards us wearing a refreshed version of his old uniform and covered by a golden halo. I wondered how a telekinetic could survive for an extended period in space. Sure, he could maintain a constant pressure on his own skin, but where was he getting his air from? According to Professor Zackro's notes, the concentration of various gasses in his bubble doesn't change, no matter how long he flies around for. Which suggests that he's telekinetically altering the composition of the air he breathes out, a feat which… I'm not aware of any other telekine who can do that.

**Orange Lantern, welcome back.** He glances at Xor, who glowers at him. **I see you've been recruiting.**

**Yes-. I'm sorry, do I call you 'Captain Comet', or is it alright to use your name?**

He shakes his head. **I doubt there's any harm in it. The Tamaraneans still don't understand the concept of 'secret identities'.**

I frown. **Didn't you go public after the Astur attack?**

**No, that was when 'Captain Comet' first started operating in public. May I say? Your mind is fascinating.**

**Ah, thank you? What.. exactly is it about it that you find so interesting?**

**I think… You're transcending your flesh. Not all of what you're thinking is present in your organic brain.** He brings his right hand to his chin. **I've seen things like that before, but never in another human. Oh.** He waves his right hand. **Pardon me. My curiosity got the better of me.**

**Quite alright. I'd actually quite like you to give me a once-over. Not a lot of people have meaningful insight into what I am these days.** I turn to Xor. **This is Lantern Xalitan Xor of Sector One Five Eight Two. Lantern Xor, Adam Blake.**

Blake nods. **Pleased to meet you. That feels like someone used psion imprinting technology on you.**

"They did." Xor inclines his head slightly. "I do not want you touching my mind."

Blake looks him over for a moment. "Alright. Is this acceptable?"

"Yes." Xor breathes in slowly, then out slowly. "I was an orphan, taken in by the state. They gave me this body and shaped my mind with psion technology."

"Is that why you're here?" Blake turns back slightly, gesturing towards distant Tamaran. "To see another world the psions created?"

"They created that world?"

He gestures to the surrounding stars with his right hand. "The psions created nearly everything around here. A few of the older species predate the time when the Guardians transported them to the Wombworld, but the Tamaraneans have records of their entire people being transported to Tamaran. That's one of the reasons why I stopped here when I first came to Vega."

"Did the psions program them?"

"Maybe at first. None of the psions I've met knew."

"The psions do not program them now."

"No, no. The psions weren't interested in using the Tamaraneans for social or psychological experiments. They just wanted to make certain that there would always be a population for them to experiment on. You're free to look through the archive while you're here." He glances back at the Cometeer. "Is Princess Koriand'r with you?"

"No. Is she not here?"

He makes a small shrug. "I assume that she's still on Tillettit, helping those poor women. Komand'r flew back once the Maltusians organised their relief mission." He smiles. "She can fly under her own power, now. She helped a lot of other Tamaraneans by getting that cure rediscovered."

"Oh, I hadn't checked whether that was successful. She's fully cured?"

"No trouble at all."

I smile. "That is good news."

He nods. "So what brings you back to Tamaran?"

"I thought I should check up on the place. I've also got-" Slightly out of date. "-messages from Queen Hyathis for the Blades of Alstair, along with personal messages."

"I'm sure they'll be pleased to hear from the folks back home." He points at his ship. "Why don't you come aboard? Since I'm the only person around here who uses a telekinetic faster than light drive that's the only form we aren't interdicting. It will be a lot faster than flying at sublight speed."

I nod. "Thank you."

He flies back towards his ship's air lock and Xor and I follow him.

"Mister Blake, do you..? Want to return to Earth? If you do, I'd be happy to sub in for you here for a few weeks."

He turns, flying backwards into the air lock so that I can see him shaking his head. "My biggest problem has always been keeping my mind occupied. Myand'r put me in charge of-" Xor and I enter the air lock and Blake triggers it to cycle. "-rebuilding the planet, turning Tamaran back into a space age civilisation just as fast as I can. I've never done anything-. Well, there was one time when I tutored a few tribes in metallurgy so that I could get the parts to repair the Cometeer, but that wasn't on the same scale. I'm needed here and I-"

The air lock interior opens and he leads the way inside.

"-don't have anything to go back to. You thought about my sister's grave for a second when you saw me."

I nod.

"Her children-."

"They never knew me. If they were like me, or if their kids were, I'd come back to give them the benefit of my experience. But as things stand I'm not sure that there's really anything to say. Tell you what: could you take them a letter for me?"

"Of course."

"Thank you." He looks out through the hull-. Oh, that was smooth. We've arrived in near-Tamaran space already. "Komand'r is in Tamarus at the moment, and she and the rest of the royal family are looking forward to talking to you again."

Through the hull I see the glow of orange of the people of Tamaran grow closer as we descend through the atmosphere.

"And I them."

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th February
13:48 GMT

"Illustres."

Komand'r is smiling as Blake, Xor and I disembark, floating in the air with her inert ring on a chain around her neck. She still favours darker colours, but is showing a good deal more skin than she did when we last met. Probably a result of wanting to expose her newly restored skin to sunlight. Or perhaps an outward sign of her newly gained confidence in her position?

"Lantern Komand'r. I'm afraid that Mister Blake-" I float off the ground towards her. "-spoiled the surprise, but congratulations on your recovery. How has the work here been going?"

"Well.. enough. I believe that we would do better to expand our influence while Vega remains in disarray, though given the state of our navy that would most likely require the application of more Lanterns." She runs her eyes over Xor as she removes her necklace and returns the ring to her left ring finger. "Who is this?"

Xor floats upwards while Blake goes to speak to the ground crew. "This is Lantern Xalitan Xor. He's being assigned to Sector One Five Eight Two to remove the corrupt elements of his home polity's ruling elite, and oversee a transition to an honest and honourable government."

"Worthy work. Is he your new student?"

"He was, but he now understands his own desires sufficiently that he no longer needs my oversight."

"Oh?" She floats over to hover in front of him with their heads on a level with one another. "So, Orange Lantern Xalitan Xor: what is it that you want most in all the universe?"

"To honourably serve a worthy master in the pursuit of a greater good."

Komand'r's instinctive response is to narrow her eyes, but she catches herself and raises her eyebrows. "And with your new power, you have no desire to be the master yourself?"

"Only if there are none better. I can lead soldiers in combat, but I… Am not.. comfortable, issuing broad commands where I cannot tell where my personal responsibility begins or ends."

"And you are content with our Illustres as your master?"

"Yes, for now. I hope that in time the government of the Alignment will produce one worthy of my service. For now, it is my duty to remove those who are not."

"Are you killing them?"

"No. Marooning them, with the materials they will need to set up a small farming community. I will leave the final judgement to another."

"That seems… Weak to me."

"You were raised from birth to lead-."

"Hah! I was not."

"You grew up in a palace, Lantern-Princess Komand'r."

"I wasn't expected to lead or rule. At best, I would have been my sister's assistant."

"I spent my early years in a barrack room with forty seven other War Hounds. I was educated only in what I needed in order to be a soldier, and psion machines were used to make sure that I thought as my masters wanted me to."

"Psion?" Her environmental shield dims, but her natural flight keeps her in the air. "That explains why you are here."

"I bear them no malice. They shaped me; they did not harm me. At most, I would like to know why they traded with my government."

"They delight in any form of learning that involves someone being hurt. How old were you when they used their devices on you?"

"I was not yet a year old."

"Y-? You were an infant?"

"We were taken when our minds were most malleable."

"Yes. That would make sense to them."

"It makes sense to me as well."

Komand'r opens her mouth slightly, then closes it again. Then she turns to me. "Illustres, it has been some time and I was quite fraught at the time: did I thank you for rescuing me from Hny'xx?"

"Not… Directly. But I rescued you because your captivity was an obscenity, not because I wanted you to thank me."

Her face.. sort of.. relaxes, and she looks at me with a degree of openness I don't think I've seen from her before. She bows her head slightly. "Thank you for rescuing me."

"You're welcome. Don't mention it."

She looks up, frowning. "Why not?"

"Because while you're driven to command and inspire, while Xor is driven to live honourably, I am driven to better the universe around me. It was my nature to liberate you, and I could no more have ignored your plight than Xor could commit a murder or you could hold your tongue when insulted. No obligation arises from something that was as natural to me as breathing." I smile. "Cartoons intended for Earth-children are more subtle than psion neural programming devices, but they shape our thoughts just the same."

"Perhaps we should import them."

I wave my left hand, a Tamaran-format data drive appearing between my thumb and forefinger. I hold it out to her. "Feel free to review them at your leisure."

She looks at it for a moment before taking it from me and sending it to subspace. "Thank you."

Blake floats up towards us. "You kids ready to head to the palace now?"

"Kids?"

He nods as we turn in the direction of Tamarus and begin flying towards the palace. "Taking into account the time I spent on Citadel Complex, I must be at least eighty by now."

"You don't look a day over fifty."

"I could have looked younger, but thought that my appearance should reflect my actual age."

…

"I wouldn't say that you look eighty."

"I can't say I gained much useful experience while the Citadel had me hooked up as a generator. Besides, Tamaraneans don't go grey. And with all of the differences between me and regular humans, I've never been sure exactly how long I've got to live."

"I know a few experts in novel biology, if you want me to get someone to look into it."

We begin passing over the suburbs, more than a few of the locals pointing upwards as we fly past. I can see their hopes flaring as they realise who I am. That's… Not why I do this, but it's still gratifying to feel. I can see the new building work that has happened since I last visited. It looks like the palace is entirely unaltered, but the areas that the gordanians directly attacked are being nibbled away at the periphery as the locals build new housing to replace what was destroyed. The roads inside the city are also being repaired in many places.

"Unless Professor Zackro is somehow still alive, it'll probably be easier for me to work it out myself."

"Alright, but you aren't invulnerable. There are good reasons to make sure that other people know how your body works; you could be too badly injured or insensible to provide doctors with information."

"I was always worried that someone would try and weaponize my abilities. The Cold War was just getting going when I left Earth, and both sides were just as interested in superhumans as fission bombs."

"I don't think the fact that someone might misuse it is a good reason not to try and use a technology properly. Otherwise… We wouldn't have any technology."

"I understand your point, but what I can do and what a slightly better bullet can do are in entirely different leagues."

"Sure, but what you can do and what people with superspeed can do aren't, and both the United States and the Soviet Union could have made more of those for nearly the whole duration of the Cold War. They didn't, any more than they fired their nuclear weapons at one another. There are limits to human stupidity."

He glances at me. "I wasn't aware of that. The Flash's formula?" I nod. "Alright, I suppose you taking a few scans won't hurt. Now, how about I brief you on the state of Tamaran before you meet King Myand'r?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th February
13:55 GMT

A crowd is gathering around the main entrance to the palace as King Myand'r and Queen Luand'r proceed out, looking up as-.

The supplicant goes to the one in the position of power. They're about to fly up to me, and that won't do at all. Instead, I transition down onto the step a short distance in front of them and bow. Not a full ninety degree job, that would probably be a bit much. But fifty degrees is fine for a national hero and senior Lantern when faced with the local monarchs.

"Your majesties."

I can hear a murmur from the crowd as Luand'r puts her right hand on my right shoulder.

"Orange Lantern, you have no need to abase yourself before us."

I straighten, smiling. Since I'm a few steps down from them, my head is slightly below theirs. I'm not exactly sure how that looks to Tamaraneans, but humanoids tend to think about body language in fairly similar ways.

"Thank you, your majesty. As I approached the planet I was able to admire the work which the Tamaranean people have done since I left. I'm pleased that you've been able to take full advantage of the opportunity presented to you."

"If not for you then we would still be under the Citadel's boot heel. All that we have been able to build, we owe to you."

I shake my head. "Perhaps that you can build it now, but I do not believe for a moment that the people of Tamaran would have been in such a situation forever. You would have freed yourselves eventually. I just sped it up so that we could all get on with our lives." I look up and beckon Lantern Xor to join us. He floats down, stopping a pace back from me. Stopping in the air; his feet are far too large to fit on these steps. "This is Lantern Xor, my new ex-student. He's desperate to learn what an honourable ruler looks like. Would you mind him shadowing you for a few days so that he can find out?"

Myand'r blinks, his head tilted slightly to the side. Then he nods definitively. "Yes, of course. We would be delighted to show him how Tamaran is governed."

Glancing at me, Xor brings his fists together in front of his chest. "Thank you. I relish the opportunity."

Luand'r steps aside and gestures to the doorway. "Please, come inside. We have a great deal to talk about."

I walk up the steps separating us, Xor landing as I reach the top. "Thank you."

The two of us follow them inside, Komand'r and Blake flying off to return to whatever they were doing before we arrived. Curious that Myand'r and Luand'r aren't flying. But I suppose that the ground level of the palace is designed for foot traffic more than the upper parts.

"I appreciate your renewed efforts to boost our standing." Myand'r tilts his head towards me as he speaks. "But that was a bit much."

"How so?"

"You made it look like we were insulting you by demanding your deference, despite everything you've done for us. That might not be so bad were we in a stronger position, but as things stand it made us look undeservedly proud and arrogant."

"Oh. Ah, sorry. I can publically hit you in the face with a custard pie later if that would make up for it."

"What?"

"It's a form of comedic humiliation from Earth. The target looks a little stupid, but it's generally considered to be a minor embarrassment that a reasonable person should laugh off and so demonstrate that they aren't hidebound."

"Unfortunately, no such ritual exists on Tamaran. I would worry that people might think that you were genuinely attacking me."

"Alright, what sort of things do Tamaranean aristocrats who are on good terms with one another do together?"

"Trade on favourable terms with one another. Encourage their children to marry-. Though I do remember that you do not look kindly on that practice."

"No. Also, it will be at least five years before I have children."

"I hadn't realised that there were any humanoid species with so long a gestation period. Or are humans only infrequently fertile?"

"My girlfriend and I are participating in NEMO's war with the Reach. Given our roles, it's not really going to be practical for us to have children for at least that long."

Luand'r starts slightly. "Practical? I knew from Adam that humans are not as given to indulging their passions as we are, but really."

"Jade needs an opportunity to establish a professional role for herself. Much as I'd like to spend more time with her, this is the best for our relationship in the long term."

Myand'r shakes his head. "I'm sure you know more about human courtship than I do. Having other Orange Lanterns here would be a reasonable alternative; a sign of your personal investment in our freedom."

"Lantern Mother of Mercy is available, but she's not exactly social."

"If I invite her to spend some time in the palace, she can leave at the end of the span without either of us being embarrassed."

"Lantern Mother of Mercy covers the entire surface of a planet. You'd have to expand the palace quite a bit for her to fit."

"A planet?" I nod. "Could Lantern Xor stay?"

"No." Xor shakes his head firmly. "It will take a few days for my comrades to fly back to Alignment space. It would be dishonourable for me to abandon the fight after taking it up."

Hm. "What else does Tamaran need?"

"Teachers and electronics engineers, those are the areas where we are most in need. We managed to maintain… Reasonable records of our medical advances, and the thanagarians have been happy to help us build examples of our more sophisticated equipment. But truly becoming as advanced as we were in our prime requires our knowledge to spread more rapidly than we can make happen with our limited pool of educated people."

I can't think of anyone in DC who had that sort of passion for teaching.

I nod. "I'll see what I can do."

Myand'r sighs. "But giving us more things won't serve the same purpose as a proxy would. It simply makes us more obliged to you."

Right. What has Tamaran got that people on Earth-

We walk past a corridor. Glancing down it I see a group of athletic Tamaraneans in the traditional clothing of underwear and tassels.

-want-.

In the privacy of my own head, I wince at the obvious association. Something else, something-.

"There are a couple of projects you could help me with."

"Oh?"

"Last year I talked one of Earth's more isolationist communities into sending a theatre troupe outside their country on a tour. Aside from an unfortunate event during their first performance, it went rather well. I'd quite like to do an exhibition on Tamaranean culture and history, give the people of Earth a look at what's going on off their world. I'm afraid that it probably won't lead to any new trading opportunities; the distance is just too great."

"I'm sure that we can put something together. Do you benefit in some way from such an exhibit?"

"I own a company which is making a role play game based on recent Vega history. A group of aliens visiting would be an amazing piece of advertising."

"Role play game? I understand the words, but I suspect that you are referring to a specific artefact."

"Ah, how to explain it..?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th February
18:22 GMT

Oh… Dear.

Using the burned-out wreck of a gordanian battlecruiser for concealment, I have my ring give me a more detailed picture of near-Karna space than my own eyes could give me while simultaneously trying to piece together the contents of the ship's computer. Sadly, gordanians aren't big fans of automation or centralisation. The data I want is spread out across a dozen local data stores, at least some of which were critically damaged during the fighting which slew the ship. There aren't any backups onboard the ship and most gordanian clans don't do off-site backups either. They also don't seem to think that keeping a historical database onboard their ships is worthwhile…

Extraction complete.

Ah. Not unexpectedly, once word got out that the Tearing Bite clan had lost most of their warfleet, the Gizzard Spiker clan decided to finish the job. Rather than simply absorb their fellow Citadel allies, or support them for favours later, they decided to annihilate the competition. But that broke pax domum, which was all the other clans who wanted Gizzard Spiker taken down a peg or two needed to justify weighing in. And then some idiot blew up the Citadel, which threw every alliance into confusion... And then, just when things were starting to die down…

My ring shows me a construct image of the Karnan fleet currently raining fire down in support of the slave uprising currently taking place on Karettah, Karna's northern continent. That part of the Gordanian fleet which survived the internecine conflict is staying quite firmly on the opposite side of the planet to defend their older holdings on Gordane. The Karnan fleet appears to consist largely of ships which fled the original Gizzard Spiker led take-over, but not exclusively. There are new builds there, based on the designs of the other ships. And clearly they've had access to raw materials. Most of the old fleet didn't leave without being severely damaged, and there's little sign of their old injuries now.

How do I want to handle this?

Honestly, I don't. Gizzard Spiker deserve pretty much everything they get, but a lot of the other clans aren't that bad. And the Karnans certainly aren't blameless for creating the situation which led to the original war. Yes, Karnans are formally enslaved to Gordanian clans in a way that the Gordanians were never slaves to the Karnans, but the difference between a well-treated slave and a poorly treated villein isn't particularly great. I don't know any of these people, and there's no obvious route that doesn't involve slaughtering one side or the other… Or at the very least forcibly relocating far more people than I could move. Best case scenario… Some sort of rerun of the partition of India, moving each people to their continent of origin when some of them have never lived there and don't actually want to move.

But since I'm here, I should at least see if I can make the situation less bad.

"Ring… Contact…"

Who? Who? The only contacts I might have would be surviving members of Tearing Bite, and I doubt that they actually want to hear from me. I could ask Amalak to try taking the area, or… Providing a neutral force…

"Contact the Karnans. Find me whoever's in charge."

Compliance.

"What?"

"Orange Lantern here. Please put me through to whoever's in charge over there."

"Orange-? Please hold."

Not like I'm paying by the minute. He should be able to get hold of the Supreme Commander… Gaharrugh I think his name is, reasonably quickly. If they've got any sort of intelligence at all then they know what I'm capable of, and a Supreme Commander doesn't really need to do all that much when the attack is ongoing. There just aren't any strategic level decisions that need to be-.

"Why are you here?"

"Supreme Commander Gaharrugh?"

"Mini-Beast the spider-fucker."

"That's uncalled for."

"Is it? When the Citadel Complex was destroyed, I held out a small hope that whoever did it would liberate my own home at the same time. And yet, here we are. You did nothing to help us, we begin the process of liberating ourselves-"

"Blowing up the Citadel Complex was 'nothing to help you'?"

"-and now here you are. Don't even think about-"

I raise my right hand to my forehead.

"-trying to intimidate us into leaving-"

I appear in his ready room, and-.

"-because you-."

Queen Kalista and Sir Pren look up from their position to Gaharrugh's right. Sir Pren raises his hands from the table slightly, the air between myself and the three of them shimmering faintly as he generates a telekinetic shield. Good reflexes. An officer of the Crown Imperium was sitting on Gaharrugh's left but has now jumped to her feet and drawn her pistol. The soldiers behind me are a little slower on the uptake, but their… Crown Imperium-made grasers.

"So you're sponsored by the Crown Imperium. Generous of them. Though I suppose that proxy-fighting is the only way to prevent Vega acting in concert against them."

Kalista nods. "Until recently. Your actions have been both a help and a hindrance. By destroying the Citadel, you have created a situation in which this intervention could happen-."

"Destroying the Tearing Bite war fleet probably helped as well."

"That was-." Pren frowns. "Our reports say that the Beast destroyed it."

"Yes, because I lured him in to attack it while I evacuated the slave workers at the facility it was guarding."

"You also created an alliance between the worst of the pirates and slavers in Vega."

"I felt it was better than your plan, as it was explained to me. The level of collateral damage that would have happened if the fighting on Raggashoon had continued in the way you hoped it might would have been appalling."

Kalista glances at Pren for a moment. "What happened to Felicity?"

"I took her on a brief sightseeing trip on Tamaran and then left her with a slave rehabilitation charity in the Crown Imperium. I don't know what she's done since then, but that was where I last saw her."

There's a sort of rumble from Gaharrugh, and the navy officer next to him lowers her sidearm. "The alliance you created is the reason why the Karnan Fleet is trying to take back our homeworld without the Crown Imperium's overt aid. What do you plan to do to make up for all of the Karnans who died because our strongest ally is forced to keep their fleet back to guard against your pirate friends?!"

Not a trace of red. His words are pure posturing.

"Nothing, actually. If you ask nicely I might do something for you, but I don't consider myself even slightly obliged to you." I turn around and regard the soldiers with contempt. "Put those down before I insert them in you."

Behind me, Gaharrugh nods. The guns are lowered and I return my attention to the table.

"What exactly are you trying to achieve here?"

"We're liberating our home, and destroying one of the remaining centres of the Citadel Alliance."

"Exactly how many gordanian civilians are you planning on 'liberating'?"

He glowers. "As many as it takes."

"I prefer low body counts. With the clans most closely allied to the Citadel largely gone, I don't really bear any sort of grudge against those who remain. And from the sounds of things… Are you planning on going after Emana after this? And the Wombworld?"

Nods.

"I'm not exactly thrilled with-."

Gaharrugh bears his teeth.

"You allied yourself with pirates, slavers and cannibals. If you aren't going to help, then go! Before I kill you myself!"

"Not just yet." I raise my right hand to my forehead once more. "See you shortly."

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th February
18:27 GMT

Where is he?

There's a sort of spatial hiccup combined with a short flash of light over to my right, then a blast as the air absorbs the energy and turns into plasma. The strongpoint the local gordanian militia were using to suppress the karnan infantry evaporates -along with most of the defenders- and the attackers storm forward. A few are proper soldiers and those with the best armour are taking point, but the majority appear to be newly liberated slave labourers. They are only carrying masers and are dressed in simply tunics and leggings. The shot came from… There's no artillery in evidence…

I look up and… Ah. One of the Karnan ships is in low orbit. That sort of energy pulse plasma weapon is what people who want a dedicated planetary bombardment weapon but aren't evil enough for mass driver use. Since the karnan fleet has been planning to take back their world for some time, it makes perfect sense that they'd have all the gear that they need.

Of course, with the militia's defence failing here…

Karnan soldiers take up position in a partially ruined settlement and fire down towards a small flotilla of overloaded boats trying to escape along a river. There are some weapons on those boats, but the majority of those on board are unarmed civilians-. Alright, 'civilian' is a bit of an unreliable descriptor where gordanians are concerned. Yes, the larger clans have 'military' vessels separate from their other vessels, but that divide only separates purely combat ships from multi-role ships which are very much combat capable. No clans have the sort of unarmed merchantmen that you see in the more stable regions of space. They'd just be targets in Vega. And all gordanians are taught how to fight. But these gordanians clearly aren't interested in fighting.

Of course, firing on a retreating enemy is perfectly acceptable even by the more exacting standards of the Geneva Conventions. If you want someone to stop shooting you, stop retreating and start surrendering. Vega… A fighting retreat is usually a far better idea around here. Or a non-fighting retreat, hoping that whoever is making you retreat has something better to do than chase you down. If you try surrendering the people attacking you might take you prisoner in order to sell you into slavery, but an instruction to 'cluster up a bit more' would be more likely.

Still…

I transition to the air just above the boats and generate a shield construct between them and their karnan attackers. A volley of weak maser shots fails to penetrate it, then the fire… Just sort of falls off as they try to work out what the heck they're looking at.

"Orange Lantern Illustres to gordanian ships. I am not here to support you. All I'm doing is covering your retreat. Keep moving, do not stop."

I spot one of the militia members on the rearmost ship take aim at the Karnans on the bank-.

I send a large construct hand down and grab his gun hard enough to deform the barrel into uselessness. Then I have the hand construct toss it into the water.

"Don't push me."

Bodies of those killed by the karnans are floating in the water… That one's still alive. The hand grabs them and puts them back into the closest boat, where the other gordanians immediately begin checking them over.

Okay, in a normal military operation, the officers in charge on the ground would be reporting my presence back to their commanders, who would most likely order them to back off unless I directly attacked them. But this isn't a normal military operation. The karnans flat out hate the gordanians, and most of the 'troops' over there are at best irregulars. I can't expect the same command and control. They're lucky if there are enough regular soldiers to maintain any sort of communication, let alone anything approaching good command and control. I'd assume that they'd take a few shots at me, realise that they can't hurt me and then go looking for another target…

I look up again.

No. The people on the ship must have been advised that I'm around by now. That weapon system-.

I put up an overhead shield just in case.

It wouldn't hurt me. My armour and environmental shield are entirely too resilient. But it could easily wreck the boats and kill all of those on board.

Incoming communication.

"Yes?"

"Ryand'r to Orange Lantern. Please respond."

"Answer."

Compliance.

"Prince Ryand'r. I'd like a word in person, if you-" The ship above me fires, the laser failing to penetrate my shield and the plasma washing harmlessly over the sides. "-don't mind."

"Of course! You are the first person I have spoken to who has news of my home!"

I think a positron beam will do it.

I generate a construct and carefully aim it at the ship that just shot at me.

"Happy to share it. How soon can you reach me?"

"Ah… Perhaps a minute. I am on my way now."

I take a look around, looking through the terrain, tree-analogues and ruins for the orange lights which mark… Ah, there he is.

"See you when you get here."

I fire, my beam striking the shielding protecting the ventral weapon hardpoint and punching through to the weapon itself. The weapon is armoured, but as G'kar pointed out, weapons are by necessity one of the more weakly armoured parts of a ship. I dismiss the positron ray construct as the weapon above me dies. Hopefully that will cause them to get a belated clue.

Never actually read a comic with Ryand'r in it. I don't think that he shared his sisters' extra powers, though he's apparently confident to fly around over an active combat zone naked but for his pants and a hair tie. I suppose that speed and agility should help, and it's not as if most of the infantry on his side are much more resilient. He slows as he reaches my shield, frowning at it.

"Why are you protecting them?"

"The people in these boats are too close to my definition of 'civilian' for me to be happy letting them die."

"Oh." He nods. "That is a righteous reason."

A smattering of shots from the karnan-held bank impact against my shield. Ryand'r turns to face the people who shot them.

"It's okay! You can stop now!"

"Ryand'r, I think it will take a little more than that."

"I could try and get Tigorr to tell them to go someplace else, but that could take a while? He doesn't really talk so well when he's in beast-mode."

"Then don't worry about it."

"Ah, okay?" He smiles hopefully. "You've been to Tamaran? Are the gordanians really gone?"

"Yes. The survivors of Tearing Bite are marooned on another planet and your people are rebuilding with the assistance of a thanagarian mercenary group and Adam Blake."

His eyes widen. "Blake's alive? That's amazing! I grew up with stories of how he sacrificed himself to protect our fleet-."

"Yes, and the Citadel neutralised him and used him as a battery. He's recovered, as far as I can tell."

"And my sisters?"

"Recovered. I gave them power rings, and they both took part in the attack on Citadel Complex. Then they did some other work for me. Komand'r can fly under her own power again. She's on Tamaran at the moment."

"When are they coming here?"

"They're not."

He frowns. "What? Why not?"

"Ryand'r, do you understand why the Citadel grabbed them?"

He shrugs. "Because they're evil. They enslave countless.-"

"No. They took your sisters because you publically joined the Omega Men."

He frowns in revulsion. "What?"

"Tamaran was a vassal state of the Tearing Bite clan. When you, a member of the royal family, openly sided with their enemies, they risked losing face if they didn't immediately strike back. And since they couldn't get you, they took them. If you'd just left Okaara and joined them it wouldn't have been a problem, but you slapped them in the face with it."

"That…" His eyes dip and he shakes his head. "No." He shakes his head again as he raises his head to glare at me. "I am not responsible for the evils of the Citadel, or their allies."

"No, but you are responsible for the reasonably predictable results of your own actions." I point down at the boats. "Free the karnans, watch them slaughter the gordanians. Take a stand against the Citadel, watch as they retaliate against those you love."

He floats back through the air. "I…"

"Get out of here, Ryand'r. Come back when you've thought about it a little."

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th February
19:14 GMT

The gordanian militia on the ground keep nervously glancing up at me as they help the injured from the beached boats. They appear to be pulling out, an en-masse evacuation of the regions under the karnan fleet's guns. Which is sensible, but…

Where are they going to go?

The gordanian fleet -such as it is- could in theory send transports to ferry them over to Gordane, but that would put them within range of the karnan fleet's guns. And while the karnans might not want to risk leaving their positions to fire on a heat source they don't think is karnan, actual ships would be far more inviting targets. Gordanians have ocean-going ships, but most large-scale travel and trade was done by aircraft rather than sea vessels. And there's certainly no tunnels under the water or bridges across it. And… It's not as if the karnan fleet isn't going to go after the slave-operated fisheries and mines on that part of the coastline once they've finished with the interior.

I could fly them over.

I could…

There are karnans on Gordane, but many fewer of them than there are here. Gordanians as a whole stuck pretty much all their heavy industry on their own home continent, but there is still plenty of manual labour they wanted karnans for. The clans…

I hadn't really thought about it, but clans like Gizzard Spiker and Tearing Bite didn't have much of a presence on Karettah. They just weren't that interested in agriculture or light industry. The clans who do-. Who did, are mostly clans who tend to avoid attacking anyone else. Yes, they owned karnan slaves, but that's more because karnans were the ones who were available rather than any sort of 'us versus them' mentality.

I frown as I look down at the militia members below me. Who are they from? Clans usually have their own command structures, but in emergency situations like this irregulars tend to rally around whoever looks like they know what they're doing. That's… Stone Turner, Dirt Eater, Meat Barter, Blunt Claw… All the clans my most recent map say had a presence in this region. This evacuation must have started when the karnan ships first arrived, for some of them to get this far. Not completely sure who's in charge.

One way to find out.

I drift down, provoking some nervous backing up. The four closest militia members drift towards one another, though none of them go for their weapons.

"Who is in charge here?"

Three sets of eyes jerk towards the fourth member of the cluster, while he turns to look for someone he can offload me onto. I can see the same fears on his surface as I see in everyone else, but they're more… Bound up in the tasks he's performing right now. Gordanians don't have a standard uniform, but based on his equipment and decoration I'd guess that he's a non-commissioned officer. Or just a veteran.

"Looks like you didn't step backwards fast enough."

"Story of my life. What does the Orange Lantern want with us?"

"I'd like to know where you're going?"

"You and me both." He flicks his tail. "The rest of you, go find something to do."

The three of them walk away to help offload the boats, and the non-com comes a little closer to me.

"All the heavy forts on this continent came under bombardment as soon as the karnans secured their position in orbit. And even if we could get to them, they can't survive that forever. Can't hide in the mines, can't hide in the woods. The karnans might accept our surrender once they've got the bloodlust out of their systems but that doesn't do us any good right now. Best chance we've got is to head as far away from their ships as we can and hope that someone's feeling generous."

"No one higher up in your clan-" Air hisses through his teeth. "-is organising things?"

"How? What's left of the gordanian fleet's over the horizon." I shake my head. "We use our ships as communication relays. Karnans are disrupting everything else. Without the ships, we've got no way to talk to anyone."

"Ocean ships?"

"If the karnans haven't grabbed them or sunk them, there won't be enough and we'd be easy targets on the journey." He looks away, his eyes turning up-river towards the karnan-held area. "Never thought I'd see this."

"Your reversal of fortunes?"

"Yeah. Karnans doing to us what our great grandparents did to theirs. Always just thought that things would carry on like they had." He snorts. "You got any use for a few hundred gordanian slaves?"

"Excuse me?"

"If it was just me, I'd try fighting them guerrilla style. See how much time I could buy. But it's not. My clan mates, my family are-" He looks at the refugee… It's not precise enough to be a column, and the terrain is too broken anyway. Stream? Swarm? "-back there, and I'd rather they survive as slaves than get killed. The karnans gave up shooting once you showed up, so they don't want to fight you. How about it?"

Hm. Tamaran could use additional agricultural workers, even with the thanagarian-Alstairian druids they've got helping them with that now. Not sure that they'd accept gordanians, even if they're not from clans that had any dealings with them before. This is… Far too many for the small colony Zaark has set up. Most other places I could send them are either too far away or not.. really appropriate.

"Do you think that your clan superiors would agree to an exchange? Karnans in their territory for gordanians here?"

"Ah. Some might. Mine would, but with this sort of war going on things are going to be getting run by a Grand Council, and… The Gizzard Spikers won't."

"And if I present them with a fait accompli?"

"What, you just show up with us and start making demands?" I nod. "Nothing helpful."

"It's your peoples' lives. Any time you want to suggest something, go ahead."

"There's nothing to say. No peace to be had. I guess you could trade us quietly, but you… Stand out."

As I suspected, but it's useful to have confirmation.

"No chance of a negotiated settlement?"

"Not that I can see."

Except… I'm an enlightened Lantern. Altering the desires of the people around me is simple. Doing it subtly is a little more difficult, but still well within my abilities.

Ah.

Pren's a telepath and Kalista is a magician. They've both got as yet unquantified ways to detect me trying something like that. Still, I'd rather this didn't turn into a slaughter and it's not as if trying risks anything significant.

"I'd like to try persuading the grand council to be reasonable. Could you find me a couple of your people who could act as witnesses?"

"Sure. May as well save two. Even if it's only for a few days."

"Why would it only be a few days?"

"There's no help coming. We killed ourselves, made the karnans' lives easier. No Citadel to back us up. Branx got their own problems, and we can't afford to hire anyone else. Any gordanian ship that isn't here has given up on keeping hold of this planet. Karnans are unified, full of hate, and their ships are all warships. Even if you did a swap, the karnans will go after Gordane before too long. They have to. And then, that's it."

"You think they'll exterminate you?"

"I think they'll kill enough that there won't be much difference. And if all of the karnans living in Gordane get evacuated, they'll have even less reason to try anything else."

"That's not usual for Vega, is it? The Citadel didn't do that to the Tamaraneans."

"This fleet came from outside of Vega. Maybe they learned something new." He turns away from me. "Come with me. I'll find you some 'reliable witnesses'."

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th February
19:28 GMT

As we finally fly over the horizon I dismiss the positron beam projector constructs I had been pointing at the orbiting Karnan fleet. I'll… Hold off pointing one at the gordanians for the moment. If they start shooting me I'm just going to wreck the whole miserable lot of them and claim Gordane for the Orange Lantern Corps. Or maybe for Tamaran? It would be a fig leaf either way, but it would put me in a position to negotiate.

I wonder how many gordanians there are?

"Do either of you know what the total gordanian population is?"

The older female purses her lips. Puzzlement. "The total in our clan..?"

"No, your species. How many in total?"

"How would anyone know that? How many of your species are there?"

"About six billion. Most advanced countries maintain accurate censuses, but some places can't or can't keep them accurate."

Her lips smooth. "Oh. We.. don't keep that sort of record. There's probably someone in our clan who knows how many adults we have, but no one keeps records for all of the clans."

Gordanians have never had a unified government, so… Yes, I suppose that it makes sense that centralised data-gathering never became a thing. Frustrating as that is for me.

"Would anyone know how many karnans are on Gordane?"

"I doubt it. I don't even think that the clans would know. Individual overseers will know how many work for them."

"If in the years to come, any gordanians ask how you lost, consider your inability to answer those questions."

"I'm a farm overseer. What could I have done with that information?"

"Started improving your relations with members of other clans once Citadel Complex was destroyed, with a view to improving gordanian unity in the face of the loss of a major ally."

"Why would knowing how many of us there are help with that?"

"Being more aware of the state of the region and the gordanians' place in it would inform your decision making."

The other gordanian -a young female- lashes her tail from side to side in frustration. "He's right. The strength of the clan is the strength of all of its members. How is anyone supposed to do what's best for everyone if they don't know what it is?"

The older is from Stone Turner and the younger from Meat Barter. That might explain why she gets it: Meat Barter are so legitimate that they're allowed to trade in civilised places. She's probably had a good deal more exposure to alien ways of thinking than the miners and farmers of Stone Turner. I.. had thought that Meat Barter only maintained a token presence on Karna itself. Odd that she got caught up in this.

"Did you know that the karnans still had a fleet?"

"Yes." / "Yes."

"In that case, why weren't clan elders making pacts with other Vega powers? They should have known that someone might take a swing at you with the Citadel gone. Amalak would have taken a defence contract. There are probably Branx consortia in the same position as you who would form mutual defence pacts. There-."

No. They probably don't know that the Crown Imperium is sponsoring the karnans, and… It might make things more difficult if I shared that information.

"Was plenty of time for the clans to agree to cooperate amongst themselves. Heck, if the anti-Citadel clans had ganged up on Gizzard Spiker before the Karnans arrived, they might have been prepared to negotiate from the start. Or I could have come to Karna after I blew up the Citadel Complex and browbeaten you people into reforming. There were all sorts of things that could have been done. This is the result of actions taken and not taken by a lot of people."

And there's the coastline. And the anti-air emplacements, bunkers and soldiers…

"Orange Lantern Illustres to Council of Clan Chiefs. I'm here to try and bring about a negotiated settlement between you and the karnans. If you're not interested in hearing me out, please start shooting now so that we don't waste one another's time."

…

Well, no one's shooting yet. I suppose that getting in touch with the emergency government-. Ring, that message did go somewhere, right?

Confirmed. Message played through the speakers in the Council's meeting room.

And thus neatly bypassed whatever layers of bureaucracy the gordanians actually have. However, they've now got to argue amongst themselves, and I doubt that Gizzard Spiker are going to be eager to meet the man who blew up their strongest ally. Still, if they ordered anyone to shoot it was immediately countermanded.

"Is there anyone either of you want to talk to before we meet the Council?"

"No." The older tilts her head to the right for a moment. "Representatives of our clans will be there, or what happens to us won't really matter very much."

"As you will."

The guns don't track us as we pass over the beach and head inland. Gordane tends towards a few large cities and vast areas of scrubby wasteland, as opposed to Karettah's speckling of small villages and large swathes of cultivated land. Not too much in the way of roads again because everything flies, though I can see where there are old roads that have fallen into disuse and disrepair. The city where my ring is telling me the Council is meeting is a short distance inland, a little way back from the mouth of a large river. From here I can see the large factory complexes and… Chimneys? No, cooling towers, which reach up into the sky, as well as the slight distortion from the anti-orbital force field. And the shapes of many anti-ship weapon emplacements.

There are some gordanian fighter craft around, but attack craft aren't a big part of gordanian fleet composition any more than they are Citadelian. No, that's-. Gordanians are perfectly intelligent. They can pilot that sort of ship, but they're just as bulky as Okaarans and Citadelians and are evolved from ground-dwelling reptiles. Or… Engineered from ground-dwelling reptiles by the psions. Even compared to humans they just don't have the instinct for it, and unlike with the karnans their computers are too primitive to make up for it.

"Council Convenor Rowk to Orange Lantern Illustres. We will meet with you. Come at once."

"On my way."

I end the communication. Demanding that I do anything is a bit rich, but I'm not petty enough to call him out on it. Not when the future of his species' viability is at stake. Or… Maybe that's just how gordanians talk, or maybe he thinks clearing his schedule to meet me at once is doing me a favour? I don't know enough about gordanian culture to assume either way.

The Council is meeting in a fortified bunker located on the landward side of the city, its force field gleaming in the light. It's clearly highly resilient and the soldiers guarding it are professionally comported and equipped. The partially disassembled wrecks of several star ships which litter the area around it rather undermine that, but there was a good deal of fighting around here recently so I shouldn't be too surprised.

"There."

The young gordanian I'm pulling along with me points to a small squad, the leader of which is waving me down.

"Thank you. Down we go."

"Thank Auron."

We land, myself at the front and my passengers just behind me. The head of the escort detail trudges over. His armour is far heavier than that of the militia unit on Karettah and incorporates a winged flight pack.

"Orange Lantern Illustres and witnesses, here to see the Council."

"Yes." He looks us over, perhaps wondering if he could get away with asking us to disarm. "When you're in there, don't make any sudden moves. We don't plan on starting anything, but things are on edge right now."

"Yes, I noticed. But don't worry. If I wanted to start anything then this place would already be a hole in the ground. Lead on, would you?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th February
19:57 GMT

The two gordanians I brought with me troop out through the doors to the Council chamber, their body language speaking of profound depression. The Council wanted to speak to me first, but I felt that it would underline their position better if they listened to the witness reports first. The head of the escort detail who brought me down here slaps his tail on the floor in the direction of the door, and I nod amiably.

"My turn, then."

I create two construct-ushers to hold the doors open and stroll unhurriedly through, arms hanging loosely at my sides. There are six occupied seats on the right, representing those clans with the greatest military strength. Another eleven on the left, representing those who have strength that is less but still significant. And a huddle at the back of the room for those clans whose military strength is nonexistent, trivial or just not around here.

A gordanian with the three yellow line and a white blob emblem of Unending Conquest waves to me from her place near the front of the huddle. Her position makes sense; while Unending Conquest have plenty of military force it's all at the other end of the galaxy. She's essentially an ambassador from a foreign power at this point. Though… If the Council were willing, having the more militant clans head out that way might not be such a bad thing. I'd be happy for them to spend their military strength fighting the Reach with a view to colonising one of their worlds at the end of the campaign.

"Ladies and gentlemen. Councillors,-" Right. "-representatives,-" Left. "-and emissaries." Forward. "As I'm sure that you know… You're in the shit."

The representative of the Meat Barter clan snorts in agreement. If their ships are all in the vicinity of Karna right now then they might well be finished as a clan. At best, they're looking at losing all of their on-Karna holdings.

"The karnans are out for blood and there's no help coming."

The Councillor from Gizzard Spiker takes a second to glare at the emissary from Unending Conquest, who happily wiggles her tail in response.

"You might be able to negotiate something -in theory- but no one's listening. The people on the ground have been raised hating you from birth and now that they're here they're not going to stop killing while there are gordanians in front of them. They will -however- listen to me."

A few of the assembled gordanians freeze, or straighten up slightly.

"That's not to say that they like me, but I'm happy to act as a go-between if you want to try-." 'Talking things out' doesn't seem appropriate. "A negotiated surrender. And since I don't like wasting my time, I'd like to outline the things you will have to agree to give up as a bare minimum. Obviously, any karnans still held as slave workers anywhere will have to be handed over. You will have to give up any claim to territory in Karettah. You will most likely have to disarm to a considerable degree and make some sort of payment to the new karnan government. And you will most likely have to allow the karnans to go wherever they want in your territory in order for them to confirm for themselves that you are complying with the terms."

"If you can agree to all of that from the start, I'll go to the karnans and see if that's enough to convince them to suspend their attack." I look around. "Well?"

The Councillor from Blood Flecks drags the talons on his right hand across the material of their desk, creating an audible screeching noise. "And what do we get?"

"Don't know. Probably not a lot. What do you want?"

"The members of our clans in their territory returned to us. Guarantees on our territory."

"What territory in particular?"

Which I do need to know. The karnans might well want the gordanian species off Karna in its entirety, but several clans own territory in other places in Vega. A few even own territory outside of it.

"Everything we hold now."

"I think that unlikely-."

The Councillor from Gizzard Spiker bangs his fist on the desk. "Then they will come here and die."

Hm. Assuming no psion surprises… Ring, probable outcome of a confrontation, the karnan fleet versus the gordanian fleet and planetary defences?

Likely behaviour of vessel commanders unknown. Unable to accurately predict. A direct confrontation would result in a narrow karnan victory. The gordanian combined fleet would be entirely destroyed at substantial cost to the karnan navy. The remaining karnan naval units would be sufficient to perform a rotating bombardment of remaining ground targets.

More or less what I was expecting. De-orbiting the gordanian wrecks would be more efficient than shooting until their shields start to weaken and then backing off, but it would also be a good deal less precise. Would the Crown Imperium care about something like that? They… Might, actually. They're fine with slaughtering pirates and slavers outright, but bombarding civilian areas never looks good. And it would increase the chance of the karnans in the areas being targeted getting killed.

"A lot of them will die, yes. All of you will. May I take it that the gentleman from Gizzard Spiker intends to make their victory so costly that their will breaks while some of you survive?"

He beats his chest armour with both fists. "Yes he does."

The others generally look less certain. Oh, I'm sure that the gordanians will fight if it comes to it, but good luck maintaining any sort of organisation with morale like this.

"I don't believe that will work on anything more than a local level. These aren't karnan merchants or outmatched irregulars. This is a war fleet full of people who hate you. And I think that the Omega Men are a little-" There's a slight stir at the name. "-annoyed about me kill-stealing Citadel Complex and have decided that you'll be a reasonable substitute. Still, if that's your intent I will mention it to them. Anything else?"

The Councillor from Blood Flecks looks around and gets a series of slow blinks. Compliance. He then turns back my way. "No. Go. Return when you have terms."

I bow mockingly and then straighten, raising my right hand to my forehead.

"…progress on all fronts, aid.. ed…" Pren slows to a stop as he notices me. This time it's him, Kalista, Gaharrugh, the officer from the Crown Imperium, a few other karnan officers and a… Huh, a news crew, who step back a little awkwardly and point a camera my way.

And… We're actually in the same room.

"Are you still here? It's been an hour and a half."

Gaharrugh rises to his feet. "What do you want?"

"I've just come from speaking to the gordanian Grand Council. They would like to discuss terms for their surrender."

Pren blinks, risking a small smile as he sits back. Kalista blinks, not meeting my eyes, presumably trying to work out how this affects their strategy. Gaharrugh's throat rumbles, and the general smoothing of fur from the karnans suggests that they find the idea extremely pleasing.

"Not joining them, then?"

"I'm enough of a realist to know that civilians die during wars. But I wasn't about to let it happen right in front of me. My only real objective here is to keep the casualties as low as possible."

"The 'Grand' Council can surrender when they crawl up to me on their knees and kiss my boots!"

I ignore the snorting from several karnan officers.

"Alright. Over what sort of distance?"

"What?"

"Over what sort of distance do you want them to crawl? They'd have difficulty getting here from their bunker-."

"It wasn't a serious suggestion!"

I give him a condescending look. "Please try and take this seriously, Supreme Commander. Millions of karnan lives are at stake."

He steps towards me, towering over me. As if such a basic intimidation technique would work on me any more.

"I am aware of that. I will accept the Council's unconditional surrender."

"I'm not sure they would be willing to risk that. Could you present a more concrete set of demands?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th February
20:35 GMT

The Councillor from Gizzard Spiker floats in a ring-generated flight aura, a muzzle over his snout. The guards who headed towards us the moment he lunged at me slow to a stop, while the councillors, representatives and emissaries freeze.

"Sir, please don't do that again. If you wish to register your displeasure, you may simply inform me of it."

The Councillor from Long Striders cranes his neck slightly to see around his floating colleague. "In that case, let me register it. Disarming down to the level the Supreme Commander requires would leave us helpless against a great many of our neighbours. Our normal ships aren't well-armed enough to fight off dedicated attackers."

"And how long do you think those raiders will exist for?"

"What do you mean?"

"The Beast -the one being whose presence kept the Green Lantern Corps from intervening in Vega- is now receiving psychiatric treatment on Maltus. Jarko gets his revenue from taxation rather than raiding, Amalak provides security services for pay, the Spider Guild are shipbuilders and the Citadel is gone. The sort of mass piracy Vega enabled was always a bubble economy and it just got popped. Karnans who've lived most of their lives in the Crown Imperium won't regard that as the cost of doing business; their fleet will be sent after anyone who tries that sort of thing just as soon as they've secured their home here. In addition, Tamaran is building a fleet. A few of the older delegates here might remember the way they used to use their fleet before their ill-fated attack on Citadel Complex."

"Fewer raiders."

"Fewer, if any. The price of them doing business will go up too much."

"What about the branx, or the psions?"

"I fully expect the branx to pivot, as you were doing before the karnans arrived. Those with close ties to the Citadel will lose out, while those with external contacts will gain. The psions have worked through proxies since they recovered from creating X'Hal. They're going to find themselves in an extremely hostile environment. They might leave, they might fortify. If they try raiding themselves then they're going to receive more attention than they can deal with."

"Are you guaranteeing that yourself?"

Am I?

"I suppose that I am." I turn to the Councillor from the Gizzard Spikers. "Have you calmed down now?"

He glowers, but doesn't strain against the muzzle. I float him back to his seat and then remove the flight aura. He makes a variety of small stretching motions, maintaining eye contact all the while.

Then he sits.

"Clan Gizzard Spiker will never disarm. There is no longer any purpose in you being here."

The Councillor from Blood Flecks bares his teeth slightly. "Clan Gizzard Spiker would be well advised to make fewer definitive statements."

The Gizzard Spiker councillor turns his way and snarls. "Clan Blood Flecks would be well advised to find its gizzard once more!"

"If I may interject, gentlemen. The disarmament requirements would only apply to ships within Vega. If Clan Gizzard Spiker does not like the restrictions, they may wish to negotiate for passage out of Vega. Clan Unending Conquest have done rather well for themselves with only a token presence here."

"Or we could just leave."

"I imagine that you would die if you did. I doubt that your fellow gordanians would like you leaving them in the lurch like that. And even if you actually made it away, the Crown Imperium has 'Wanted: Dead' bounties on your entire clan for piracy. If you went anywhere near their space they would send their navy after you… In fact, there's a good chance they'd send naval vessels after you anyway."

"Then by the First, what I am supposed to be negotiating for?!"

"Safe passage. They might be prevailed upon to let you through their territory as long as you were definitely going somewhere else and staying there. I can provide you with a list of worlds you could colonise… Or you could carry on as you do here until someone important takes notice of you and kills you. Up to you."

He takes a moment to glare at the other gordanians, but he knows full well that they'd happily hand his entire clan over if it guaranteed their survival. Heck, most of them were actively fighting Gizzard Spiker not too long ago.

"Leaving… My clan will consider this. But what of the Green Lanterns? The karnans can't speak for them."

"Ring, contact Green Lantern Green Man."

"Compliance."

"This might take a moment, depending on what he's doing."

Blood Flecks looks at my rings with undisguised avarice. "What would we have to trade for your help? Or for one of those rings?"

"You want a ring?" He tilts his head, eager but wary. "Here." I put a copy of my… Training guide, an editor-needed draft of my personal philosophy on orange light use, mixed in with practical lessons and reports from my own missions, onto the desk in front of him. "If you're interested, read that and reflect upon it. Master it, and you should be able to call a ring to you."

He grabs it.

"As for getting my help, you have nothing I want. The Gizzard Spikers have my enmity for working with the Citadel, and though I have revenged myself upon the Tearing Bite for doing the same-" I look over to the Representative of Tearing Bite. Mildly surprised that they've got enough force left for a place there. "-it is extremely unlikely that I could bring myself to help them. As for the rest of you, while I recognise that slavery does not automatically mean that the owned party is particularly mistreated, your karnan slaves appear to be used purely for manual labour and not kept as technically-owned helpmeets. I am not impressed. If it came to it I'd probably help the karnans, but I'd rather-."

Green Man's image appears over my ring.

"Illustres."

"Lantern Green Man."

"Given your company, I suspect that I will not enjoy this conversation."

"Have you had any trouble from the mercenaries or the Spiders?"

"Many minor complaints and many enraged messages from the government of the Crown Imperium."

"But no acts of genocide or piracy."

"None that have come to my attention. What do you want for the gordanian slavers?"

"The karnans are on the verge of retaking Karna. I'm trying to negotiate a surrender. For obvious reasons the karnans want them to hand over or scuttle their war fleets. Some gordanian clans aren't prepared to do that and so will have to leave Vega."

"How many?"

I look around the room. "Anyone other than Gizzard Spiker seriously considering it?"

Blood Flecks and Silent Stalking knock on their tables.

"Three somewhat depleted clans."

"And what do you want me to do?"

"Let them go, and only pursue them for crimes they commit after they leave."

"Let the most heavily armed gordanian clan, the clan most closely allied to the Citadel, leave the area and go anywhere they wish."

"Yes. With my personal guarantee that -should they act out- I will respond as soon as I'm notified and exterminate them."

"What?"

"Exterminate?"

"Yes. I'm only doing this to lower the death total on Karna on both sides. I'm not actually interested in helping them, just in getting a settlement."

"I will.. consider the matter. Green Lantern Green Man out."

"Right. I'll check back with the karnans."

 

[Mr Zoat]

8th February
20:48 GMT

"Just let them leave?! After everything they've done?"

Genuine anger. I suppose that's fair. The Gizzard Spiker clan were the ones who first made an alliance with the Citadel. Before that, the karnans were more or less maintaining their own sphere of influence. And now I'm telling him that the part of his most hated enemies that he hates most wants to just leave. Of course, they're also the part which resent their loss of status most and will fight the hardest.

"They will lose all of the local resource extraction facilities which the Citadel awarded them. Given the amount of rebuilding that you're going to be doing, I'm sure that you'll find having them handed over to you in full working order quite beneficial."

"How could I possibly believe that will happen?"

"Having negotiated this treaty, I will be its guarantor. While you are free to include a penalty tariff in your discussions, I was thinking five hundred deaths for each violation."

"Five-?" There's a wave of fur across his body as the surprise momentarily makes it fluff up before he regains control.

"As I said, if you think that is inadequate or would prefer fungible reparations rather than bloody retribution, you may say so."

"Mm. I thought you didn't approve of mass killings."

"I don't, but I do believe in consequences. The gordanians alive now aren't the ones who seized Karna. Though I understand why you do, it would be unreasonable for a disinterested party such as myself to try to hold them responsible for it. On the other hand, if they spit in my face and negotiate in bad faith…" I shrug. "My weapons are more precise than yours. I can be sure that I kill the ones who made the decision and carried it out, and do so without endangering allied civilians."

"And you couldn't just kill them all now?"

I think for a-.

"You think you could?"

"The deciding factor would be my own ability to maintain motivation while slaughtering defenceless civilians. I also wouldn't be able to reliably protect any karnan slaves in the area. But yes."

Mass emotional manipulation isn't something I've practised. Not sure how I could practise it without being more than a little immoral. So while in theory I might be able to remove the desire to fight back from everyone in Gordane, there are all sorts of side effects that could come about as a result. Side effects like losing the drive to breathe or move out of the way of oncoming vehicles or pull one's hand out of a fire.

"You actually believe it."

"Are you willing to agree to that term?"

"No."

Kalista's face twitches, but she's too experienced to say anything while I'm still here. I think that the Omega Men would be very glad to actually achieve a peaceful resolution to the Vega conflict. Vigilantes in Vega don't usually live to see retirement.

"Then-."

"But I will agree to a temporary ceasefire-" He indicates an area on the map, places the fleeing gordanians have been retreating to. "-to allow the gordanians to retreat to these areas. I am willing to exchange our people for theirs. All for all."

Ring?

A map appears in my mind, and I update the map in front of me. Showing him where the surviving gordanians are is a slight risk, but he has orbital supremacy over this hemisphere. I'm not showing him anything he couldn't find out in a few hours.

"If you can wrangle your troops here and here... Given how many irregulars they've recruited, I recommend organising a feast of some sort to keep them back."

He growl-snorts. Hm. To be fair, the gordanians do appear to have realised that starving manual labourers is a dumb thing to do, and that rationing people working in food production doesn't really work. Their main control mechanism is limiting their chattels' access to technology, not limiting their access to necessities.

"Or perhaps some sort of registration system so they can get in touch with relatives? I can direct gordanian refugees here-" I add orange arrows to the maps. "-around the karnans."

"Acceptable. How soon can we begin the exchange?"

"Eight hours."

His whiskers bristle. "Why the delay?"

"Gordanians don't see as well in the dark as karnans. They don't want to land at night. They have agreed to begin collecting karnans at once and have them arrive just after first light, but that's the earliest they're willing to do."

Gaharrugh considers. He could probably get hold of floodlights, but…

"Acceptable. That will allow us time to pull our forces back from the landing areas." He turns from the map to look at me. "They will be fully loaded when they arrive?"

"I wouldn't recommend insisting on that, unless you want them crammed in. Gordanians take up quite a lot more space than karnans."

"Mm."

"So? A ceasefire, the gordanians retreat to extraction points and you allow transports in?"

Gaharrugh looks around at the faces of his officers, and the Crown Imperium's observer.

"Yes. I will agree to that now. The ceasefire to begin in half an hour-." A couple of officers wince, and Gaharrugh widens his eyes slightly. A mildly challenging expression amongst the karnans. Though he must realise that they have a point. Wrangling an armed mob over an area the size of a continent in half an hour is a bit of a tall order. "In an hour and a half. We will begin… Making room for their retreats when we can."

"Acceptable. Will you deactivate your jamming so that the gordanians can coordinate their side of things?"

"Yes. But there are to be no encrypted transmissions. We will be listening."

"Understood." Hm. "What about other enslaved species?"

"They come to us."

"Including gordanians?"

Like batarians, gordanians are perfectly happy to enslave one another. There weren't all that many, not with karnans so readily available, but when one clan conquers another they don't always just absorb them. There probably would have been more resulting from the little civil war they just had if the karnans hadn't invaded. Though between gordanians it's more of an extreme demotion than unpersoning.

"No. They can keep them."

"Understood. Do you have any other messages for the Council at this time?"

"No."

"Good show. Now, about my payment."

"What payment?"

"I don't owe either you or the gordanians anything. But given all of the land redistribution that's going to be happening I think you can spare me a few acres."

His nostrils flare, but he doesn't appear to be particularly shocked. "What for?"

"I wish to build a temple to my people's death god. It will be used exclusively for ritual and devotional purposes. You and anyone else who wish to visit are free to do so and hear the teachings of Lord Hades."

He considers. Crazy Lantern wants to build a temple…

"You have many rings-."

I roll my eyes and hand him the book.

"It's a training guide. Read and inwardly digest, then send anyone who gets it to speak to me. Now, if you'll excuse me?"