9th January
06:47 GMT
T'ronn stares at the cityscape in shock. "What..? Happened..?"
Martian emergency vehicles have begun arriving to pick up the injured Manhunters, and since the fighting has stopped I've tasked the Genomorphs with assisting them under the watchful eyes of Komand'r and her Construct Lanterns. The nature of the fighting means that there isn't that much debris, but M'gann was attacking people inside buildings and they're not all in a condition to call for help telepathically. The Whites who were inside the theatre are not helping; given that the attackers were explicitly here to kill them I didn't think that the additional exposure was wise.
"The Marshal appears to have decided that any White assembly is a valid target."
"But.. that's.. insane-."
"I know, T'ronn." No, no, come on. He's M'gann's age. Don't snap, no matter how stupidly everyone around you is behaving. "And I'll be getting answers from him in person before long. How is the conference going?"
"We… Cut things off when we felt… What was going on out here. I.. think we're getting towards a unified negotiating position."
"And what's it going to look like? I ask because while I don't mind protecting a peaceful gathering, if it's turning into a council of war you're on your own."
"No! No, just… We all want the colour discrimination laws repealed, and… Some sort of government reform. The repeal thing is something we all agree on. Exactly how the government thing works out will depend on… A lot of things."
"And who is doing the negotiating?"
"Me. To start with, at least." He shifts position slightly as he sees a badly burned Manhunter being levitated out of a building by medics. "How many-?"
"Don't have a full count. I killed at least eight."
He turns his head towards me. "I've.. been arrested before, that wasn't-."
"They weren't here for arrests. They phased through the roof and opened fire with their main guns. I'm presently being charitable and assuming that they had been told you were planning a violent uprising."
Because otherwise I'm not sure that I'd be able to stop myself killing all of them, and that would do even more harm to my interests than this fiasco has already inflicted. Ugh. Okay, I'm unageing if not actually immortal. I know that backing the right side now is the best way of getting returns in the long run. But in the short term there's no doubt in my mind that helping the Reds put down the rebellion and make token reforms would get me access to their magic lore faster. And I doubt that Karmang would go for sharing what he knows with me.
"Oh." T'ronn is quiet for a moment. "Thank you."
I shake my head. "It's.. fine. I'm just.. frustrated that this even happen-."
Boom!
A boom tube opens in the middle of the cavern. Not one of mine. Justice League. Yes, J'onn flies through first, and I feel the mental pressure of his scan a moment later as his eyes pass over me. I raise my right hand and wave, but instead of coming down he flies back through. Oh, whatever.
"Is M'gann okay?"
"You might be losing brother points for taking that long to ask."
"I thought you'd say if anything bad happened, but I can't hear her."
"She's…" I saw her when I sent the aggrieved Claire back to her dormitory. "Alright. But this was pretty violent, and I imagine that she wants a little while to collect herself."
Hm. I'll need to talk to her. I'm used to this sort of thing, but she most decidedly isn't. And I need to make sure that she isn't making Burning Martian a permanent look. And Claire. Not sure what to do to mend fences there. Pay her for her work, obviously, but I feel that I owe her more than that. She didn't volunteer for the costumed lunacy. Humble pie and a favour owed, I think.
J'onn flies back through the boom tube, a.. Red Martian a little way behind him. As per usual I can't recognise them by sight alone… Sinestro?
I'm not entirely clear how stable martian genetics are, Lantern Grayven, but I believe that to be Prelate J'emm.
Right. They know one of theirs fucked up, so they send a moderate.
T'ronn rises off the ground next to me, and I grab him with my right hand and push him down. "Where are you going?"
"Oh, right, you couldn't hear. Prince J'emm just asked me to speak with him directly."
"Right. Stay here, I'll go and get him."
"But he's.. just…"
I shake my head. "Domination game. His side messed up, he can come to you. I'm going to check him for weapons."
"But-. He-."
I rise off the ground and head towards the Prelate. He spots what I'm doing immediately, and shifts his shape until he's almost a red version of J'onn. Yes, that doesn't actually help unless you've got the facial animation to go with it.
"Gray-."
"Where's the Marshal?"
"Being questioned by my peers. We did not authorise this attack."
"Have you checked that your peers didn't?"
"That is extremely unlik-."
"They were warded against detection, Prelate. Magic. Magic that is only used by a tiny portion of the Red population. Bare minimum one senior sorcerer, and more likely several. If you want any progress to be made towards a peaceful resolution, you will find these people and you will try and punish them publically."
"I will.. see to it that the matter is investigated thoroughly."
"Good. I will be checking. Now why are you here?"
"I wish to make it clear to the White Martians targeted by this attack that it was not authorised by the Council. I was also hoping to address them directly."
I glance at J'onn. One bodyguard wouldn't be enough to protect him, but J'onn is probably the least racist martian in existence right now. And he's got a direct line to the Watchtower's boom tube generator. Alright. Sinestro, do a slow and very visible scan of them.
It is at times like this, Lantern-
The light strobes outwards, playing over the unresisting Prelate.
-Grayven, that I am reminded of your Apokoliptian origins.
It's a hateful place, but I'd be a fool to try to claim that it taught me nothing.
The scan cuts out, having found nothing, and I turn aside and gesture towards T'ronn with my right hand. "All yours."
J'emm doesn't say anything, but floats past me towards the ground. J'onn goes to follow, but halts when he reaches me. "The Manhunters who were assigned-."
"If this is a 'just following orders' thing.-"
"No, it isn't. I am trying to thank you for holding back so much. I am well aware that you could have killed everyone here."
I shake my head. "It actually never crossed my mind. Slaughter is so wasteful. But perhaps a little something about questioning bullshit orders could be added to the Manhunter training curriculum?"
"That will depend on what happens to the Marshal."
He descends through the air, heading after J'emm. I take a moment to make sure that J'emm's initial chat with T'ronn is civil -at least as far as my knowledge of martian body language allows me to- and then…
Sinestro, where's M'gann? I need a chat.
He doesn't say anything, but a waypoint appears in my mind. I fly down towards one of the crashed patrol ships, and M'gann shimmers back into visibility. She's back in her usual red-skinned humanoid appearance. Usually, she instinctively uses human expression, but I'm well aware that she doesn't have to. I hope, at least, because that sort of blankness would be a very bad sign on a human f-.
"Do you know how many of them I killed?"
I shake my head. "No. Not yet."
We watch each other for a moment.
"Why did you use the form of a Burning Martian?"
"Efficiency. I thought maybe I could use their fear-. No." She shakes her head, her face animating again, her head bowing and her eyes dipping. "I needed to destroy, and that form is.. better than all of the other forms I could have used. I needed something the Manhunters didn't know how to fight. So I did it. I took on the form of a prehistoric killing machine." She looks up. "Because that was what I needed to get the result I wanted. I stabbed and burned and killed because that was what needed to happen. I turned myself back after they retreated… And I don't feel bad."
"If soldiers kept feeling bad about killing they wouldn't be able to function."
"I killed people. I felt their minds go out. But every time I think about it, I remember what would have happened if I hadn't." The red X on her uniform vanishes, the material turning the same dark blue as the rest. "I used to wonder how you did it. I didn't realise it was this… Easy."
"And?"
"I don't think I'll be able to stay a Manhunter after this. I don't think I'd want to."
"Hm." I think for a moment. "Two options, then. Stay on and push through reforms. Assuming that the Marshal takes the blame for this, you could end up as the first whitish full Manhunter. You'd have perspective that the new Marshal would need."
"Assuming he leaves office." She shakes her head. "What's the other option?"
"Have you ever wondered what it would be like, to use an orange power ring?"