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[Archive] With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Story Only)

September 7th, 2013
21:24 UTC

"Hahehahey! That's cheating!"

I feel my eyes narrow as I glance up at the cage. I wasn't lying when I said that I don't mind them wrestling, but tickling isn't the same thing. Paul is-. Ah, he was trying distract her so that he could try-. Some.. sort of hold. His form is so bad that I can't actually tell. It's actually.. possible that he isn't trying for an actual hold and is just making it up as he goes.

I tried teaching him -briefly- but… Neither of us could really afford to spend the time to focus on it. And he's a Lantern. He wasn't wrong when he pointed out that better unarmed technique wouldn't improve his combat ability in most circumstances.

And when we did, he-. We, tended to get distracted.



Three years.

I originally agreed to five years because I wanted to establish myself, as he knew. But it was also because I wasn't… Sure about our relationship. Or about relationships. Would it really be better to focus on getting closer to a person who valued our relationship than making myself useful to an organisation that valued what I could do for it?

I'm not exactly sure when I went from hedging my bet to agreeing with him that I'd have preferred a shorter... Engagement. Perhaps when we went to Hell? When I shot him with the Ace of Winchesters it wasn't because I thought that he'd betrayed me. It wasn't even because I thought he might have betrayed me. I immediately knew that he wouldn't say that if he was himself.

Three years. And then what? I was worried that there wouldn't be enough work for a former Darkstar on Earth. But I'm running an investigation on Batman with my whole team. The Director made it clear that there was no need for me to rush back. It sounded like he was perfectly content for me to go back to Earth permanently.

I'm not sure how insulted I should have been. And I actually don't care.

So I could keep working for the Darkstars on detached duty, writing reports and suggesting policy changes to Earth governments in the same way I do to the governments of NEMO member planets. Or use my exo-mantle to get a better private security job than I had when I left. Or even be a superhero.

Or a mother.

Hm.

My parents were… Not good parents. There are things about what I've done that… I wouldn't do again, but leaving home isn't one of them. I'm closer to Artemis than I am to Mom. I'm probably closer to Alan and-. My grandparents, than I am Mom. It's not that I hate her. I don't doubt that she's better now, but in the time in my life when a normal girl would bond with their mother… I didn't, because she was her.

I don't think Artemis remembers that part. Or maybe the prison visits overrode it.

My computer shows another dozen notifications, and with a quick glance up at the cage I start going through them.

A load of soldiers don't just leave a bar. No officer wants to have to deal with drunk soldiers, and what they serve here is alcoholic. I've dealt with enough alien species to know that some things are almost universal. So if they were recalled to duty when they were off duty, something dangerous must have been happening, and there can't have been much notice. If the thanagarian government was planning something, these soldiers wouldn't have been here in the first place.

I don't know how my hacking suite matches up to thanagarian government security, and we're supposed to be here to talk about buying broadcasting rights. But there's more ways to find out what's happening than penetrating their military central command. Social media isn't anything like as developed here as it is on Earth, but there are still thousands of messages going back and forth between individuals every moment of the day.

Gang members, sending gang lieutenants and leaders messages about troop movements. Businesses ordering stock, or cancelling orders. Ships docking or landing and communicating with traffic control stations. And of course personal communications from the soldiers themselves letting friends and family know where they are even when they're supposedly under a communications blackout.

It's usually difficult to find anything useful when you aren't looking for one specific thing, so I've got my analytics tools looking at patterns of things that don't match the historical data logs. Ship movements that aren't part of normal patrols, patrols vanishing from some places or redoubling in others. I tried looking at their public banking records to see if the inevitable insider trading was happening, but it doesn't look like they have those.

Motherhood…

Before I met the Crock family I never really thought about it. But there's something about seeing a functional family that thinks I'm a part of it that… Makes me envious of how they relate to each other. Seeing how things are supposed to be when your parents aren't internationally wanted criminals. Helping out at the Ubu kindergarten was one of the chores newly initiated Shadows got stuck with, so I know I could handle the basics. I'm really more worried about whether Paul and I could socialise them properly.

Commodity prices aren't exactly public knowledge but it's not hard to get them from the personal computers of the people involved in the trade. There's been a steady increase in food prices, and a commensurate increase in unrest amongst the people living in the underside. Complaints from the rural governors that aliens are showing up in their territory. A few asking if they can use them to replace…

Why is there a shortage in lizarkon labor in rural areas?

I send out more enquiries, and my analytics suite gets to work again.

Bir Tawil is completely unsuitable for raising a child. I appreciate the security, and the weather, but children need other children around. Especially if they're going to be raised by us

Ah. I've already assumed that's going to happen. Nice to know I'm not conflicted. So… Gotham? New York? Or Ripon?

I snort dismissively. Gotham's Gotham, so no. New York puts us close to Alan and Wonder Woman, and all the other Amazons coming and going through the embassy portal. And a lot of them either have young children or are thinking about having children. But I don't know them, and both Alan and Wonder Woman work full time. And Wonder Woman hasn't exactly had a normal life either.

So, Ripon. Close to my grandparents, uncle, aunt and -when they're on leave- my cousins. And some of the other, more distant relatives I saw in the photos on wall. Low crime, good local school, transport… Not great, but Paul can put a dolmen gate or a zeta tube in.

It's been a while since I've had to drive a car…

Okay, that's our best option. Getting Paul to agree shouldn't be hard-.

Lizarkon labor shortage confirmed. Lizarkons in rural areas are almost exclusively employed in agriculture. It looks like the area of cultivated land has increased, but not in a way that would create a labor shortage. There aren't any other major industries which focus on lizarkon labor in the same way, even-.

Thanagarians use lizarkon auxiliary units, not as a regular part of their military. Because when you're oppressing an entire species you don't want to teach them how to fight or arm them. But if you need to increase the size of your army quickly and can't redeploy members of your own species because they have specialist skills that make them too valuable to use as foot soldiers, it's a reasonable choice. It's also one they've occasionally used when the Thanagarian Empire has had to fight multiple opponents at once.

Thanagar actually prefers not to engage in open warfare. Instead, they engage in low intensity warfare and present an annexation treaty to the people they're antagonising once they've demonstrated the difference in strength. It prevents them having to occupy territory… When it works, while generating almost the same benefit to outright conquest.

But if they're calling up auxiliaries, they're actually planning to land soldiers somewhere. I'd have to-.

"Ah-agh!"

"Huh? What-? Oh no!"

My eyes snap up again. What have they done-?

Paul's right arm is hanging loose in its socket, and Bleez is looking very guilty.

"I'm as strong as you, but I'm not quite as tough." He reaches across with his left arm and winces as he touches his right shoulder. "Ah. Call it here?"
 
Last edited:
7th September 2013
21:30 GMT


"I am so sorry!"

I rotate my delightfully pain-free right arm as Bleez metaphorically hovers next to me. "Bleez, don't worry about it. It's a salutary lesson on the fragility of the unaugmented human body."

Jade didn't look even slightly concerned, which would bother me more if I wasn't perfectly capable of summoning my rings back to me, or even tapping into… The orange light directly.

Darn, should have tried that.

"You're now on a very short list of people who've dislocated my right arm."

"Yeah, but the others are going to be supervillains! That's not a list I want to be on!"

"Just my mother, actually."

Bleez blinks rapidly. Jade looks at me quizzically. And even the barwoman is staring-.

"Not like that. She picked me up by my arms and span me around a few times, and on the last one my arm came out of its socket. We went down to the local hospital and a doctor shoved it back in. Honestly, I don't even remember it."

The three women relax slightly. I point to the barwoman with my right hand.

"Don't think I didn't see you paying attention."

"Not to you. My daughter's a fan of 'Lady Bleez'." Who now gets her full attention. "You got a new album coming out?"

"Ah… I'm working on one now, but it probably won't come out for, like, a year? Maybe two?"

"I'll save up for noise cancelling headphones."

Bleez nods. "So she can hear the sound better?"

"Sure. You all done drinking? 'cause if you catch a downdraft I'm gunna close up."

I smile innocently. "Do you have any fruit juice?"

"Ah." She blinks. "Sure."

She pulls a small bottle of something purple out from behind the bar, removes the cap with her thumbnail and plonks it down in front of me.

I pick it up, give it a sniff… Smells kind of floral and sugary. I shrug and give it a taste… Huh. It's actually nice, in a slightly bland an inoffensive way.

"Didn't realise that you were underage."

"I'm not."

"Then why are you drinking that?"

"It's a cultural thing."

Jade regards me with mild curiosity. "How is it?"

"Probably not worth importing, but pleasant enough."

"In that case, remind me to order one of those next time we come here."

"I'm sure the maggots are very healthy."

The barwoman flares her wings slightly. "Not really. This is pretty low quality stuff, honestly. I'm not sure they're even alive."

"Your mother's recipe?"

"Yeah. She should stick to stuff she's actually good at, but soldiers will drink it."

"Huh. Well, thank you for not trying to bilk the tourists, but I'd have been happy to pay for better quality stuff."

Jade shaker her head, sliding her tankard to the side. "That's fine. I'll take one of those fruit juices."

"You will? Uh, fine." Another bottle makes its way over the bar, and Jade picks it up and the barwoman turns her attention to Bleez. "You want anything?"

"Shaarch?"

"You really think we carry that here?"

"Better quality blurn?"

The barwoman moves away, heading for the kitchen area. "I'll see what I can do."

I give her a moment to get out of our immediate vicinity. "Jade, find anything?"

"They're planning for a major war."

"Are we?" Bleez looks around. "Just because an alert got called, that doesn't mean-."

"They're calling up lizarkons."

"Oh. In that case, yeah, we're going to war. Who with?"

"I don't know. Can you think of anyone?"

"No?" / "Hyathis."

Bleez thinks for a moment, and then nods slowly. "Oooooh. That's why we were getting put in a glide pattern by Culture and Doctrine."

"Well, it's why I was. I don't know what they've got against the two of you. Any idea why they're going after her now?"

She wing-shrugs. "I dunno. Did you give her any super weapons lately?"

"No. I haven't been back there for a while, actually. And usually, when one of the Antares belligerents gets an advantage, the others gang up on them. That's why no one's managed to win."

"Then maybe it's just… Unfinished business?"

Jade appears to realise something. "They've made a deal with the other powers."

"I mean, that's just about possible, but what's changed? They could have done that the moment they reorganised their government after the Equalizing Plague was cured."

She nods. "Do we need to find out?"

"Preventing huge numbers of deaths would be nice, but strictly speaking, no."

"Um." Bleez's wings are slightly unfurled. "Can we..? Maybe not commit espionage against my government?"

"Alright, we can-."

"Here you-" The barwoman marches back in with a cask- "-go." -which she puts down in front of Bleez.

"Um. I didn't bring an axe?"

I form an x-ionised blade and slice the top off for her.

Both thanagarian women stare at me.

"What?"

Bleez wing-shudders. "See, wrestling is a friends thing, but opening a cask like that..? That's… Ah…"

I turn to Jade. "Sorry."

"It's fine."
 
Last edited:
3rd March 2284
14:59 GMT -5

"…aircraft, be advised that interceptors have been dispatched to your location. Identify yourself immediately. Failure to comply-."

"My name in Krono, and I'm happy to comply with your instructions."

"State destination."

"I was heading towards the pre-War city of Winnipeg. Or at least, where it's recorded as being."

"For what purpose?"

"It was the state capital, and since it seemed unlikely that the Chinese would have bothered nuking it I was hopeful that the regional centre of government would be located there."

"Ah… State… Origin?"

"Slightly… Complicated answer to that. But if you mean 'Where did you take off from?', a little place called Rachel in Nevada."

"Nevad-. Just a moment."

"Would you like me to hold position?"

"No, no, ah… Maintain heading and speed."

"Will do."

"Nevada… Nevada… That's-. Shit!"

"I went before I left. If you give me a few hours and a can of beans-."

"No, no, disregard last. Ah, you're flying up from America?"

"Yes."

"Is your aircraft armed?"

"Yes."

"Aaah… Nuclear?"

"I'm not carrying fission bombs, if that's what you're worried about. Direct fire energy weapons only."

"And the purpose of your visit is… Making contact with our government?"

"That's correct."

"In what capacity?"

"Ambassador-at-large for -among other places- the New California Republic. I need to present my letters of credence to your head of state."

"Okay, I'm going to need to refer this up the chain of command. Please stay on this channel."

"Certainly."

I lean back in my seat as Manitoba Air Traffic Control tries to work out what they're supposed to do with me. These days not many places have civilian air traffic control, so they are almost certainly military. And Eagle Rock only really has civilian air traffic control because no one attacks them and their military is tiny. Could be a lieutenant if it's considered a sophisticated and expensive piece of equipment, or it could be an enlisted position if they're advanced enough for that sort of thing to be common. But given that my contacts in Washington D.C. haven't seen Canadian traders it doesn't seem likely that they've recovered that far.

I could have handed this job to someone else, but we still don't have many of these saucers, which means that if I want to spend my time flying around in one instead of using a much slower vertibird or an N.C.R. Crusader then I have to be prepared to have things added to my plate at short notice.

"This is Colonel Frayes of the Royal Air Force of the Kingdom of Manitoba."

"This is Ambassador Krono of the Sky Walkers, currently working on behalf of the New California Republic."

"I'm afraid we aren't set up to receive an ambassador."

"I'll make do. Do you have an airport for me?"

"We're sending you to Langenburg. Do you know where that is?"

Quick check on the map…

"Langenburg, which was a town in pre-War Saskatchewan?"

"That's the one, though it's grown a little since then."

"Changing course now, though obviously I don't know exactly where the airport is."

"Our planes will guide you in." I nod. "Though… What kind of propulsion does your airplane use?"

"Gravitic impeller."

"… Say again?"

"It's based on an alien spacecraft the Americans acquired before the war. It's quite a bit more advanced than what most of the rest of our air force uses."

"Well, sorry if it's less sophisticated than you're used to, but we use prop-planes up here."

"We mostly do too. The main fighter of the Californian Air Force is basically a nineteen fifties Mustang, though we're slowly replacing them with something a bit more modern."

We could probably do that faster, but none of California's probable enemies have much of an air force so there's no real call for a superlative fighter. We have started to retire Skyraiders in favour of vertibird attack craft though, because those things are great for bombarding legionaries from out of range of their anti-air guns. The Legion had aircraft earlier in the war thanks to Two Sun's possession of the U.S.A.F.'s old desert storage site, but fortunately for us the Legion proper didn't have the skills to do much with them.

"We basically use Spitfires from the same era."

"Oh? Did you find a working one in a museum, or did you recreate them using technical manuals?"

"Both, actually. You know what a Spitfire is?"

"Oh yes. I was actually three hundred years old last year. I used to see them flying at air shows back in Britain."

"Ah, are you a ghoul?"

"No, I still look as handsome as ever."

"Alright. How did California relearn avionics?"

"Vault-Tec were very prepared. Unfortunately, no worked examples survived to the founding of the N.C.R., and we didn't have the technical know-how to build pre-War jet or plasma thruster planes until fairly recently."

And we're not building plasma thruster planes now because those things are maintenance hungry beasts that cost more than an armoured squadron each. Grant and I agree that if we get to the point where we need super fighters it'll make more sense to train more transmutation specialists in how to make zetan fighters than to build more Plutonian 'super fireballs'.

Ah, my ship's radar is showing two contacts heading my way, good show.

"I have my escort on radar now."

"You've got one small enough to go in your bird?"

"Bird? Everyone back home calls it a flying saucer."

"…" … "Wait one."

I wait, presumably while he contacts the pilots for a description. The idea of 'flying saucers' being alien ships probably didn't survive outside of south-west America, but it clearly doesn't look like a normal plane.

"Fly saucer, right. I'll meet you on the landing field. Colonel Frayes out."
 

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