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

8th November 2012
08:42 GMT -5

Sand billows up from the workshop floor, flowing into the shape of Sanderson. As it sculpts itself into humanoid form, colour begins to appear, until-.

Sanderson checks his arms, the utilitarian green fibreglass and ceramic plate overalls I fashioned for him having transformed back with him. "It works!"

"Okay, so as long as it's mostly made of silica, you can take it with you. Is the fibreglass comfortable?"

"Beats running around naked, that's for sure." He runs his hands over the material. "Though I gotta say, I think I prefer the classic look to the Brave New World look. Not-. Not that I want to sound ungrateful-."

"It's all one with me, chum." I raise my left hand. "You wanna get behind the screen again, or-."

Sanderson collapses into sand, flowing back across the floor before rebuilding himself out of sight. I'm not sure how normal this sort of body-shyness is amongst people from the forties. I mean, sure, I know that certain styles of more revealing clothing have become mainstream since he was young, but I've seen Alan in swimming shorts before. Maybe he's just adapted?

"How do I take this off?"

"Stone fasteners down the left side of the chest. You should be able to slip it off after that."

"Thank you. Got it."

Alright, ring. Tailoring mode.

Compliance.

Sanderson's ability appears to be able to accept dyes, so the colour of the cloth isn't a problem.

"You know Mister Dodds didn't wear armour, right?"

"Yes?"

"I have a fairly strong opinion about wearing armour when we fight. I understand when superheroes want to avoid high lethality weapons, but not protecting yourself is just foolish."

"Sure, but what kind of armor do you think he could have got in the nineteen forties? Did you want him to dress like a knight or something?"

"Oh, come on, infantry armour was used in the First and Second World Wars. Sure, he couldn't have gotten a modern steel and ceramic jacket, but he could have gotten something that would have stopped revolver rounds."

"Wesley mostly attacks from ambush, using his gas gun."

"I approve, but it only takes one guard taking a smoke break for you to really wish you had a backplate. Green jacket?"

"Yes, please."

"Purple cape?"

"Do you have something against capes?"

"I'm not convinced about the mix of colours, but you're the one wearing it. You know he… Switched costumes later on?"

"They were in the wardrobe. And I guess they're more… Tasteful. But they're just clothes. They don't really say 'super hero'. I think that was just things he wore normally. Unless there's some sort of problem I don't know about?"

"Ah… No, Mister Dodd's original costume is old enough that it doesn't really signify anything, other than a slightly odd taste in clothes."

"You can't do anything about the mask and gas gun, can you?"

"You mean, make them silica-based..?" Silicon nanotubes and silicene? None of that's ideal… "Ah, yes, but the performance will suffer, and the mask will feel weird."

"As weird as turning into a pile of sand, or a little more weird?"

"That's… That's a fair point."

Ring, fabricate.

Compliance.

A clothing rack appears on the far side of the screen in a wave of orange light, and Sanderson's hand reaches out to grab the shirt.

"If you like it, I can make you a few more."

"I guess this isn't something future-tailors can put together in an afternoon, huh?"

"Not unless their better half was a materials scientist who brought their work home with them. Is your control..? Often a problem?"

"I haven't been arrested for public indecency or anything like that, but as far as I'm concerned once is too much."

"Because I know a guy in India who can create silicate bodies for himself? He might be able to help you learn how to control yourself better?"

"Thank you." I hear a tugging sound as he pulls the mask over his face. "I always used to like Wesley's stories-"

He steps out from behind the screen, looking… I think that the word 'dapper' is contemporary? He adjusts the jacket as he looks into the mirror.

"-about his time in India. Maybe I could take a year out after I finish college?"

"Up to you. Feeling ready to head out?"

He heads over to the weapon cabinet and takes out a gas gun and several reloads, both of sleeping gas and the pressurised air cylinders that take the place of a normal propellant.

"I guess so. Is there anything else you think I'll need?"

"I don't think so, but I've never tried physically entering the Dream before. We can check with Doctor Balewa before we start."

He nods, and we head back into the living area where Alan is going through one of Mister Dodds' old photo albums. He looks up as he puts it down, blinking at the sight of Sanderson in his mentor's outfit.

"I don't think Paul designed that."

"No, he wanted to put me in some kind of overalls."

"I never claimed to have any sense of aesthetics. Have you ever been to Themyscira before?"

"No." He looks away awkwardly. "Wesley made me stay home when the Society visited."

Alan looks a little guilty. "We.. weren't exactly sure what we were going to be seeing. Ah…"

"Different time. Couldn't have a bunch of loose women corrupt poor innocent Sanderson."

"E-h…" Sanderson shrugs. "I knew Wonder Woman wasn't like-."

"It was really more-" Alan shakes his head. "-we thought they might try mothering the poor boy."

"Hey! Alan!"

 

22nd April 2012
10:26 GMT -5
Earth 8096

"…mean well, Anthony, but historically speaking diplomacy has not exactly been your greatest strength."

He… I suspect that he's glaring inside his helmet, but I can't actually see his eyes and his current generation armour tends to scatter my scans.

"You wanna talk to the Kree so badly? Fine, go ahead. I'll get into position for when it doesn't work."

I clap my hands together in a praying gesture.

"Thank you."

"Yeah, I'm not getting my hopes up." He increases power to his repulsors as he lifts off. "Break a leg."

I nod and smile before turning to face the Kree delegation.

"Gentlemen. Grand Accuser."

I drift closer to where Ronan's floating platform hovers just above the kree shuttle and accompanying soldiers which are currently menacing central New York. I know it was a bit of a joke in the comics, but it… Really is always New York where this stuff happens.

The quinjet carrying Hulk, Steve and a severely hung-over Skurge sets down on the other side of the plaza, my friends exiting as soon as the landing ramp opens. I hoped that Amora would come, but… Thor was a bit blunt about things last week, and she's off 'not'-sulking. Skurge on the other hand was perfectly happy to get a fight. I think he's gradually coming to understand that the woman who claims to love only Thor and who has been obsessively pursuing Thor for -as I understand it- several centuries might just possibly not be interested in him.

I feel a bit sad for him, actually, but since he and Hulk appear to be getting on okay I haven't wanted to stick my oar in.

Ronan looks down at my colleagues, and then raises his head to look at me. His giant hammer -which I assume had some special name in the comics but which I'll be darned if I can remember- is held casually in his right hand, the butt of the staff section resting on his flying pad which the oversized head is high enough up that he can see under it. By itself it's clearly an impractical weapon, so I assume that there's some sort of clever energy weapon built into it.

"You represent the leaders of this planet?"

"I am empowered to negotiate on their behalf."

Which is technically true, if the hurriedly written e-mail from the Secretary General was genuine.

"Surrender your planet to the Kree Empire, and you may live."

"What have we done to warrant your illustrious presence?"

In the lead amongst the soldiers are… Ah, that's Mar-Vell and… A kree officer with three orbital paths on his logo rather than Mar-Vell's one, which presumably means that he's in command. Or are those electron orbits-? Doesn’t matter.

"The Kree Supreme Intelligence believes that this world may have value. I am here to judge whether or not that is correct."

"That depends what you're looking for. Our technology is far more primitive than yours, and I can't imagine that we'd be able to add much to your military strength-. Or is this about the wormholes?"

"You do not need to know the reason. You merely need to know your place."

"I beg to differ. Thor of Asgard briefed us on the fact that is extremely easy to make wormhole portals to and from this system. I'm not.. ignorant of its strategic value. But the point is… It's the system that has value. Not.. this planet. If you wanted to build a fleet base around Jupiter or on Mars, you… Could, and you would receive the exact same benefit that you'd get from building in near Earth."

I… Think he's considering it? The chap with the purple decoration is outright scowling at me, but he isn't interrupting his superior. Ring, let's risk a peek-. Oh, yes, he wants to kill the world's greatest warriors, decimate the rest and then work the survivors to death. What a worryingly short-sighted man he is, though I suppose that given kree eugenic practices he might well have been engineered to be incapable of thinking about other species in any other way.

"With the added benefit that there wouldn't be a native population for skrull infiltrators to hide in. I mean, I like Earth, but it doesn't seem to be your sort of place."

"It is the inevitable destiny of the universe to become part of the Kree Empire."

"Right, but is it important for Earth to become part of the Kree Empire now, where there are a great many other things you could do with the resources it would take, and when your own second looks like he's extremely dubious of the idea that we have any use at all? Is there an advantage that I'm not seeing?"

"That this offer is being made at all is a sign that the Supreme Intelligence sees some potential in you. The Kree Empire's normal procedure is to simply exterminate species with nothing to offer. Already your delaying tests my patience. Surrender your world and accept my judgement."

"No, I don't think I'll be doing that." I shake my head for a moment, closing my eyes as I do so. I make a point of not making an aggressive action because I know that my team mates are a bunch of barely restrained blood knights at the best of times and I don't want them deciding to jump in to save me. "I'm just going to make you leave."

"Deluded alien. One of your number already tried to fight me, and she now lies in a crater."

"Oh, I'm not going to fight you. I can make you leave-" I hold up my right forefinger. "-with a single word."

"A word." I nod. "What word is that?"

I extend my right hand and make a beckoning gesture with my forefinger.

He doesn't move.

"You're not going to want anyone else to hear this, and if you're not impressed then I'll be within hammer range."

He watches me for a moment, then floats.. closer. Oh, he's a big fellow. A big fellow who makes a point of floating slightly above me. I rise up until our faces are level, then lean close.

"Shi'ar."

His eyes narrow. "How do you know that name?"

"Princess Lilandra is dating my daughter's head master." I shrug as his hand clenches around the shaft of his hammer. "Now, I know that the Shi'ar Empire is an awfully long way away, but I also know of a system that forms a natural wormhole nexus. And you know that a man like Majestor D'ken wouldn't be able to approve our annexation fast enough if we made the request. And Lilandra could probably talk him into appointing her Imperial Governor and she'd tend to defer to her consort on local matters, so it's a much better deal for us. Quite aside from the fact that the shi'ar generally treat their alien subjects far better than the kree do."

I drift back slightly.

"Do you want to fight the Shi'ar Empire? No, of course you do. But can you afford to now?"

"We will accept the rest of the system-."

"That's not on the table any more. You know, I grew up watching Star Trek. I wonder what it'll be like to live like that?"

"They have no fleet here."

"How long will it take you to learn to exclude non-kree ships from the nexus? Because shi'ar psychic consorts can communicate instantly over any distance. I make a call, D'ken gets a call, and a fleet is en route within a few minutes. Now, if the Kree Empire made a huge strategic redeployment you could probably beat the first wave, but… Can you afford to do that?"

He stands still, glaring at me. And I've got to say, I'm impressed with his discipline.

"You have made an enemy of the Kree Empire this day."

"No, you were already our enemies. Now shoo."

A slight tremor in his expression, then his flying disk turns around and flies back to his shuttle. His subordinates clustering around, presumably to ask what the heck just happened.

"Okay, Orange." Tony flies back down to my level, and I can hear the incredulity in his voice. "How exactly did you manage that?"

"Oh, you know. Cuius testiculos habes, habeas cardia et cerebellum."

He looks askance at me. "What d'you mean by that?"

"You just have to know what people want. And in his case, it was not getting his habes ripped off."