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

[Mr Zoat]

17th October 2009
21:22 GMT -5

Komand'r twists her head around on my chest so that she can look me in the eyes, a mildly perturbed expression on her face.

"Do you think we've..?"

She hesitates, her frown deepening.

I raise my eyebrows, arms wrapping a little tighter around her torso as we lie on the sofa. "We've..?"

"Gotten… Boring."

"I can't say I've ever tried to live my life on the basis of how interesting it would be to read about."

I raise my gaze to look around our living room. Photographs of our wedding, our friends and our son decorate the surfaces, my skull collection having been relocated to my athenaeum. A few of Alikand'r's toys have been left on the floor were they fell, but other than that it's a fairly normal upper class living room. Nothing to suggest that it's home to a couple of galaxy-renowned bounty hunters. Is.. that what she means?

"If you don't like the decorations-?"

"No, not the-." She sighs, the back of her head falling back onto my chest. "It's-. When was the last time we killed someone?"

"Two days ago."

She frowns. "Was it?"

"Toyman?" Her frown deepens. "He had those giant windup soldiers-."

"Oh him." She considers the matter, and her frown deepens further. "Why didn't I remember that? It was only a couple of days ago."

"If tamaranean brains work like human brains, it's probably because it didn't stand out."

Her brow relaxes a little. "What do you mean?"

"We've killed a lot of people, right?"

"Yeah?"

"So the first time you kill someone, that's a big deal. But after that, you're just repeating yourself. It's not a new experience so your brain doesn't encode it in the same way."

"You mean…" She relaxes very slightly into my chest. "It feels like we've been doing less fighting lately, but actually..?"

I smile, shifting my calves across her thighs-.

"No, seriously, not-. 'Fighting' each other." She tilts her head back again so that she's looking at me upside down. "It's bothering me."

I nod, then generate a construct time/kills line graph in the air in front of us. There're troughs and peaks, but the average is relatively consistent month on month.

"Slightly fewer assassinations and slightly more mass killings, but the total hasn't actually changed much."

"So they're.. just not memorable enough."

"That's one way of putting it. But it's more about how new an experience is than absolute quality. Even if the fight is amazing, there isn't all that much difference between an amazing fight and a mundane one. After a while they all sort of blur together-."

"And I keep wondering where all the time went. Because it passes without me really making any new memories." She move her arms so that they're laying on mine. "Huh."

"Basically. But that's… Pretty normal. When you're young everything is new, and then as you get older you learn what sort of things you like doing and start doing that more."

"But then you're just doing the same kind of thing and not anything that's going to stick in your brain." Her face creases. "So that's it? We either make ourselves miserable or stop being able to remember things?"

"Do you remember last time you read to Alikand'r?"

"Yeah, that was about.. three hours ago. I read him The Very Hungry Caterpillar." She wrinkles her nose. "Human children's books are weird."

"And before that?"

"The farm book. The one with the pop-up animals. I remember-."

She jerks up into a sitting position, pushing my legs aside as she twists around to face me.

"I thought my brain was going to stop.. sabotaging me after I gave birth." Her eyes narrow and glow faintly. "Have you gotten me pregnant again? I said, one!"

I sit up, wrap my arms around Koriand'r's back and then fall back, pulling her face into the crook of my neck.

"No, the mood swing you had when you were pregnant is… Something I'm never going to forget, and it wasn't like this. This is actually normal. For humans, as well as tamaraneans."

"So we're just… Normal?"

"Normal for us. Or… Stable. I mean, is there anything in our life that you don't like?"

She opens her mouth to reply, then closes it again, thinking deeply.

"All your enemies in Vega are dead. Tamaran is rebuilding. Your other enemies are dead or cowed into compliance. You have me and Alikand'r. Did we miss anyone you hate?"

"I don't think so. Unless I got so used to hating that I forgot someone."

"Okay then. What is it that you don't have that you still want?"

"It's not about being in a good place objectively. Right? I-." She lifts her head up to do a quick check of the room. "I love you and Alikand'r. And I want to make sure that he has the childhood I didn't get."

"I want him to have the childhood you didn't get too."

She inhales deeply, then exhales sharply.

"Okay. I want to do more fighting, but fighting I'll actually remember. Different fighting. Does Earth have fighting tournaments?"

"So many fighting tournaments. But most of them don't let aliens or people with superpowers take part."

"Underground fighting tournaments?"

"They'd be more likely to run away than fight us. We've got a bit of a reputation."

"Then-. Where are we supposed to get memorable fights?"

19th October 2009
09:02 GMT -5

"So, um."

On the opposite sofa, Blue Beetle looks like he's really regretting offering to do these interviews. Next to me, Komand'r smiles and gives my hand a light squeeze. This should deal with her problem nicely.

"What do you think you'd bring to the Justice League?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

20th November 2012
19:21 GMT -6

I watch the Senate votes as they're tallied, closing my eyes and taking a deep and happy breath as the Bill is finally voted into law. Now it just needs Jon to sign off on it -which he will- and that'll be one piece of madness that no one will ever have to deal with again.
Structural Reform Sublimation
Human-form Luna looks at the screen, then at me, then at the screen. Then she frowns and goes back to looking at me.

"We do not understand."

"I have no reason to doubt your claim and accept it as provisionally true."

I feel her rolling her eyes. "They tally ballots, and that creates new law."

"That is one of the many steps that turns a proposed law into an actual law, yes."

Luna shifts on the settee so she's facing me rather than the screen.

"You have implied frequently that Our sister's centralisation of power is a weakness in the Equestrian state. We suspect that you will enjoy explaining this… Scrum, to Us."

I grin.

"Ah, dear heart, you bring out the pedagogue in me."

"We are not a hart. We are a pony mare, as well you know."

"Well done for spotting the pun opportunity, but I'm wearing a translator. Have you been studying?"

"Linguistics and cultural symbolism are areas with which we are well familiar. In Our youth, the Equestrian language was far less unified than it is today."

"Oh?" I raise my eyebrows in curiosity. "My ring's translation causes me to hear you as speaking an older form of my language at times, but that's all."

"We have the printing press to thank for that. The form of Equestrian spoken in the central regions of the country encompassing the Old Capital, Canterlot and modern Ponyville became the standard form." She looks mildly perturbed. "We dread to imagine Our fate if Mountain Equestrian had become the standard form."

"Still, that's surprisingly little change for a thousand years."

"We have learned in Our time here that ponies are naturally more staid than humans. Mayhap that is why We have been able to make Ourself understood to those who are not historians or linguists. Not that We are complaining. Now: the scrum."

"The 'scrum' on display in the Senate; the smaller of the two legislative bodies of the American government."

She frowns. "They have two legislative bodies."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"That's a bit complicated. Originally, the United States of America was conceived as being an alliance of constituent States. They would have certain principles in common and recognised that some things would have to be done centrally, but the governments of the various States were supposed to be the main unit rather than the Federal Government in the centre. Originally, Senators were appointed by the governments of the States rather than being directly elected by the people of that State as Congressional Representatives are. That was changed as part of the Federal Government's efforts to centralise power by bypassing State governments. Which means that there are two bodies that do the same thing, rather than the two doing slightly different things."

"We… See."

"As is often the case in situations like this, certain parts of the system don't make sense but they're not bad enough to force those involved to agree how to fix them. Now, a couple of weeks ago there was a Presidential Election which returned the sitting president -Jonathan Horne- to office."

"Your ally."

"Yes. But America limits Presidents to two terms of office, and while that law could be changed, he'd… Have to be a lot more popular than he is-"

Even now.

"-to get that to happen. That sort of things looks very self-serving, for obvious reasons."

"Eight years, at most."

"Yes indeed."

She snorts. "We now understand how Our sister's reign seems so strange to the people of this land."

"Having a compulsory departure date means that new ideas have to rise to the surface. It also means that it's easier to get rid of people who make a mess of things without needing some sort of civil war. And since they know that they're going to go, there's a limit for the level of corruption they can get involved in because the next person will probably have a vested interest in ferreting it out and bringing it to wider attention."

"A system built on discord."

"A system which assumes discord. Of course, the system has the problem that as a President approaches the end of their time in office everyone else knows they're on the way out as well, which effectively strips them of a lot of their power. Anyway, Horne's in and has the reins of power for four more years."

And about halfway through that people who want to be President next are going to come to ask for my support… Have to see how it goes. The Democrats won't let anyone like Jon near the nomination papers ever again and the Republicans… I've got no idea who they might nominate now that Knight's missed his shot.

"So what is this ballot in aid of?"

"The passing of the Detention Failure Emergency Act. Essentially, if a prisoner either convicted of a crime which potentially carries the death penalty or a patient held in a mental institution by court order who has been ruled not guilty by reason of insanity on a criminal charge which potentially carried the death penalty escapes custody, they are to be killed. No effort will be made to recapture them, only hunt them down and kill them. It also indemnifies officers who kill such people against prosecution in states which don't have a death penalty."

Wink wink. Nudge nudge.

"Why is such a law required? Are such feats of escapology so common and such crimes so common that this remedy is needed?"

"No, it only applies to a small proportion of the criminal population, but they're so disproportionately murderous that it is actually a problem. Same reason we don't just 'build better prisons'. Some of the people we lock up are just too good at escaping. Imagine… Trying to imprison a pony whose special talent was escaping, and also likes eating pony brains. They're clearly mad and need hospitalisation, but no decent ruler would let them go back to eating their preferred diet as an alternative to killing them."

"That is… Somewhat morbid."

"Okay, imagine that King Sombra managed to pull himself back together and attacked Equestria, conjuring up his umbral buddies to possess random ponies. Do you order the guards to try arresting him, or do you send the bearerherd to Element-blast him back into oblivion?"

"The second."

"And I don't remember anyone saying that Nightmare Moon deserved a chance to live independently. The plan was 'wait one thousand years, then rainbow cannon to the face'."

"We are not Our sister, driven weak-stomached by a millennium of peace. We are aware that Our sister took no efforts to capture 'her' alive." I nod. Fair enough. "You would have her live?"

"No." Uh. "Maybe. The Obsidian Deeps have no light. She could have been happy there, perhaps. But I wouldn't have risked freezing Wilson to death to do it. And now, American law enforcement won't have to either."

"It seems strange to Us that such a thing needs to be codified, though We suppose it flows from having a weaker sovereign. Tell Us more of this land's politics, Our swain, that We may amuse Ourself with their foolishness."

I smile.

"You're going to love the court system."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
08:12 GMT +3

I regard the frustrated Amynta sympathetically. "I'm sorry that he's been so much of a pain."

"I cannot say that you did not warn us. And I know that his need is great. But I cannot command a man who is not guilty of any criminal wrongdoing-"

"I wouldn't-."

"-into the fields."

"-go that far. And he probably doesn't know anything about farming anyway."

Amynta frowns, blinking, then appears to mentally kick herself.

"Of course he.. doesn't. It was foolish to assume-."

"Three thousand year old assumptions?"

"Yes. I apologise."

"You don't need to apologise, just.. bear in mind that across the world most men aren't involved in farming. Though while we're on the subject, what are your thoughts on the whole Medina situation?"

Amynta hisses in irritation and shakes her head. "She is a fool. Having children sired by foreign men caused problems even in the Old City."

I look her over. "So is it Kon, Mitchell, me or Daniel who should-?"

"No." She hesitates, perhaps worrying about her own abruptness. "I mean, we are not all rushing to have children. Most marriages are just having-. Planning to have, one become pregnant. There is nothing about being women which means that we all instinctively know how to raise children. And the island is not large."

"Do you want a new island?"

"I would not insult the gods by-."

"No, I mean, it's well within my power to create a new island here. Or to increase the size of Themyscira itself, you know, to handle the extra people. I'd clear it with the Five before I did anything that would increase their workload."

"Can you believe that I forgot you could perform such feats?"

"After the farming thing? Certainly."

Um.

"If you're.. forgetting things a lot, there have been a lot of medical advances in the outside world. And I could attach a quantum wafer in your brain and then you'd never have to worry about forgetting things again."

"No, it's just that it is so new. I am certain I will adapt."

I nod. "Alright. So how would you resolve the dispute?"

"Move her to the Embassy until the child is of age. Fifteen years is no time at all to us, and the father would be able to visit."

"And the rest of her family?"

"They can visit easily enough. Or move there as well; it isn't a small place."

"And what about future incidents?"

"Are homes in New Yark expensive?"

"New York, and, yes. There are cheap places to live and I could just put a Gate there, but that's not going to be near anyone who's sired a child already-." I frown. "Are there other children sired in that way, and this is the first time there's been a complaint?"

She can't quite meet my eyes.

"I am not myself aware of any other-."

"Amynta."

"The idea has been mooted before. I haven't heard of anyone else actually doing it. Most of those who have visited Man's World for sex have focused their interests on women."

Oh dear.

"Has Themyscira sorted out the visa rules?"

"Visa?"

"Rules for who can come here. I know that men need an invitation or they get forcibly expelled, but have you thought about what happens if a significant number of women want to come here?"

"Do you think that's likely?

"For now it's just hook-up visits, but Amazon women are going to start getting attached to New Yorkers eventually. What happens if they want to bring American women for a visit?"

"Why would that be a problem?"

"There are about three million women in New York City alone. How many could come here? How many-?"

"Oh. Yes. I see. But why are you asking me?"

"Because I can't argue for something in the forum when I don't really care and it doesn't affect me. Now that they've decided that there's going to be a relationship, the women of Themyscira need to decide what mechanism they want to use to regulate it." I exhale. "Kon's trying to sound out the city, but so far no one really has an opinion beyond 'Medina's kind of dumb'."

Ahead of us on the beach I see John prop himself up slightly on his sun lounger.

"Think about it. Talk to the other guards. Come to me or Kon with any questions." I glance at John. "And you could talk to John-."

"No."

"Good decision. John!"

I march towards him, while Amynta wisely decides to hang back.

"How's life treating you?"

He stares into the middle distance for a moment.

"Bored out of my fucking skull, mate."

"How do you feel about farm work?"

"I-. You know something? I'd pick up a hoe right now."

"But that aside?"

"I don't know what Quinn did, but the withdrawal isn't hitting me. It's just the mental aspect. Normally I'd just find another terminal case and dump my need on them, but… Doesn't really seem right, here."

"Good, because it's not. And now that you're nicely becalmed, would you like to meet the island's other guest? I suspect that she'll be able to hold your attention."

"Well, with an invitation like that..." He climbs ungraciously off the lounger and stands next to me. "Let's go meet the neighbour."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
08:18 GMT +3

We hear the thuds and thumps of axe work before we see the island's therapy farm. Since it was out of use for decades the Amazons were perfectly happy to let nature reclaim it, and now it looks like it's going to be put back into action they're having the old staff and the other inmate clear it.

"Who are they?"

"Who's my nemesis?"

John gives me a sidelong look. "Fate."

"No, he was my enemy." We continue walking through the woodland, John managing the terrain surprisingly well for a man who avoids all forms of physical exercise. "Classically, a nemesis should arise directly from the hero's own actions and failings, which means that mine is probably some Reach politician whose name I'll never know. In the modern context, a nemesis is someone who the hero fights, whose nature is related to theirs in some way, either similar or as a sort of reflection of it."

He looks at-.

"Yes, I know that I just sounded like I'm massively up myself and self-absorbed to the point that I'm dismissing wider human civilisation in order to make a drama out of my own life, but I'm talking about how people usually describe the relationship."

"So, what, my nemesis is… Who?"

"I would have guessed Chantinelle or Golden Boy, but they're not really your enemies. The First, probably."

John looks ahead of us through the trees.

"Whatever happened to him, hey?"

"The other demon lords decided to sit on him to prevent him getting his power back. Unfortunately, I don't know a good way to keep him down permanently other than sticking him on the Source Wall. And that's a bit awkward."

"And yours is that Truggs bloke."

"Right. Because..?"

"You both really like hearin' yourself talk?"

"Uplift. The improvement of human civilisation."

"Did you lock me in a cabin in the woods so at the end of it I'd find hearing this interesting?"

"He was sending people to parallel universes to steal things. Technology, mostly, but he also abducted a demon-possessed Supergirl."

John stops, and-.

Warning! Spell eater temperature increasing.

"You banished it."

"Of course we banished it, she's kryptonian. We're not insane. Turns out that a kryptonian demon possessed her reality's Superman and he passed the corruption along. She was catatonic for a while, but now she's up and about and having constant waking nightmares about what she did under the influence."

"Always wondered what would happen if Superman went off the rails."

"I can show you the recordings if you like. Though I should warn you, I fought him alongside a taskforce of superpeople from a Nazi-ruled parallel universe."

"Not what Churchill would have done."

"It's usually easy to keep demons out of the material universe. That was a world where it wasn't."

We breach the tree line, the land on the far side covered in tree trunks. A kryptonian like Kara is easily strong enough to pull them out of the ground, but because we're serious about the 'not being stupid' thing she's working at physical strength only.

John steps on a stick and her head snaps around and I see the pulse of fear grow as she sees us and her memories start playing again. How she realised that something was wrong with Kal-El, how she tried to escape but he was faster than he'd ever been. And later, how she didn't change completely right away and people didn't always realise that they needed to run from her as well.

Our Superman wanted to visit, but… We're all pretty sure that wouldn't be a good idea.

"Did you get that?"

"Don't need to be a magician to see someone's face. You want me to talk to her?"

"We already tried Ambrose. He said that he wasn't fucked up enough to relate to her."

One of the Amazon guards spots that Kara 666 isn't with us anymore and cautiously steps closer.

"Kara. Kara. You are safe. There are no demons here. You haven't hurt anyone."

Kara blinks and appears to come out of it, though her heart rate is still accelerated and she's still panting for breath.

"Good morning, Kara Zor-El."

"H… Hhh… Hello."

She doesn't look relieved to see me. Or anyone else. I did ask if Kon could visit and she didn't come out of her room for the rest of the day. I told her what happened with her Kal-El, but… It didn't really help either. I left her the recording but she hasn't watched it.

John and I walk closer. Slowly, and making sure to keep our hands visible. I don't think that would set her off, but I didn't think a storm cloud would either and she spent an hour screaming in panic.

"This is my friend John Constantine." For a moment I'm worried that some part of the demonic outbreak resulted in her meeting their version of him, but from the default-worried look on her face that doesn't appear to be the case. "He's staying on this island too. Are you alright talking to him?"

"W… What-what-what is he here for?"

John shrugs. "Same as you, from the sounds of things. Didn't go quite as bad, but it could have done if it had gone on much longer."

A small and very shaky head nod.

"Thank you. I'll leave you to it, then."

I raise my right hand-.

"L… L-Lantern."

"Yes?"

"Can-can-c… When can I g… Go home?"

"We don't have a portal set up, though we do have the coordinates. Assuming that no one on your home parallel's side has set up a shield, we can go back with a few hour's notice. We were planning on leaving it until you were a little more recov-"

She's shaking her head vigorously.

"-ered. No?"

"Nnn… Need to go back. F… F… Fix thing-. Things."

"They don't really have the facilities to help you there, but if you're sure, I'll assemble a portal and check the connection."

She nods, though the unspoken problem there is what happens if they don't want her back.

"Very well. I'll return after I've paid them a visit."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
07:24 GMT +2

"…go home. Is that something you can arrange?"

Dr. Sivana nods distractedly, his hands working on the internal mechanisms of a many-eyed robot which appears to be simultaneously watching fifty screens worth of… Romantic comedies. After a moment he pulls them free and turns it on. Its head spins slowly for several rotations, then starts getting faster and faster until smoke starts pouring from its neck pivot.

Dr. Sivana grunts, then presses the 'off' switch. The robot's eye stalks sag immediately, and the mad spinning slows to a stop.

"I already visited that laboratory. I didn't want my alter ego's equipment being used to implicate me. Could you please remove the head?"

"Sure." I create a dock crane construct and haul the head up off the neck piece. "Where do you want it?"

He points to a nearby bench, and I carefully deposit it down next to the machine tools.

"What are you..? Trying to do with this?"

"I was-." He picks up a remote control and one by one turns off the screens. "I was attempting to create a synthetic mind that could help me in understanding 'romance'."

"Doctor, you have four children."

"And Venus did not-" He walks over to the bench and connects a cable to a port on the robot's head. "-really approve of the methods by which we conceived them. Particularly Georgia and Junior. To me, it seemed perfectly logical to improve them beyond what natural selection would create. But…"

He sighs.

"I have trouble understanding people. And if our second try at marriage is going to work, then I need to get better at it."

"By having a robot watch romantic comedies."

"Yes. A robot designed to perform a complex but extremely logical analysis of human social conventions will be able to understand them on a level no human can match and explain them to me in a purely logical way that I can understand. And then I'll be able to become the husband that Venus deserves."

"Doctor." I hesitate… Then gird my loins and cautiously pat him on the left shoulder with my right hand. "Venus fell in love with you the first time when your social skills were even worse than they are now. I don't think that an analysis of trends in romantic fiction is what you need."

"I-." He twitches slightly. "Perhaps not."

"I think-."

"But I'll know for certain once I've made one."

"Okay, I didn't want to do this, but do you know who Steven Dayton is?"

Dr. Sivana stops working. "An entirely inappropriate comparison. The 'mento helmet' was imprecise in its augmentative-."

"My point is that he spent all his time doing things with his helmet to try and prove that he was worthy, rather than actually spending time with the woman he loved. At the very least I'm sure that Venus would find this amusing to watch."

"That-." He blinks several times in quick succession. "I suppose that she might find it entertaining. I'm sure that she would have some input for me on the cultural aspect."

"Yes." … "So, the portal?"

"I'll go and check on it. I assume that you want to go to America?"

"Please. Can you have the portals that precise?"

"Yes, it's no trouble." He lays down his tools and heads for the workshop door. "I'll do final checks and set it in the 'ready' position for when your group is gathered."

"Thank you."

I raise my right hand to my forehead,

step out, and

reappear in the open air above Dr. Sivana's semi-concealed workshop. It's location is… Known to those in the know, but isn't broadcast publically due to the panic that is likely to occur. And the damage to house prices. Despite all the people that the Sheeda killed, house prices remain buoyant across Europe and North America. People trying to move to places that could defend themselves effectively, I suppose.

"Orange Lantern to-."

I was going to say 'Blue Lantern', but it's just past midnight on the American east coast right now and Alan needs his sleep.

"Orange Lantern to Watchtower."

"Green Arrow here."

"I-."

"Gimme a moment. I'm still bracing myself."

"It's nothing like that."

"I don't think you think about things 'like that' the same way other people do." I hear him take a deep breath, and I know that he's only half-joking. "Okay. Hit me."

"I'm taking the Supergirl who was possessed by a demon back to her parallel at her request."

"I thought Diana said she was in therapy."

"She is, but it's.. sort of voluntary. She should have someone watching her, but she's not a danger to herself or others. Given how badly hammered her Earth was… They could really use her."

"So…"

"So I was going to ask if anyone from the League wants to pay them a visit. At this point there are all sorts of lessons they'll have learned about containing a demonic outbreak. I'd ask my-."

Inwardly, I sigh. 'My team mates'? Really? Unless I'm talking about N.E.M.O., that hasn't been true for a while. Which is… Not 'fine' exactly, but I'm not a trainee any longer and I didn't want to join the League. We've grown apart. Though I'm sure I could handle that better.

"My friends, but it's the middle of the school week."

"Not sure how much use you'd have for a guy with a pointy stick launcher."

"Little to none, but a former CEO with knowledge of logistics could be useful. If you're available."

"I'll put the word out. And I'll talk to Dinah about coming along."

"It's not exactly a couples get-away, sir."

"Sure, but I can't just disappear without telling her."

Yes, maybe I should message Jade about this before we leave.

"Okay. Call me back in ten minutes?"

"How exactly are you getting there? You're not going via Nazi-Earth, are you?"

"No, Doctor Sivana's got a portal ready to go."

"Oh, how about that. Doctor Sivana." There's a brief pause. "Dinah says she needs me to put up some shelves today. Too bad, huh?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
08:02 GMT +2

"John, are you..? Sure about this?"

John reaches into his coat and pulls out a slowly charging crystal.

"Yeah. Synchronicity wave. Felt it the moment I saw Supergirl."

Oliver raises an eyebrow, a gesture that's not easy to see with a domino mask on. "I would have thought a pilgrim would avoid someplace full of demons. Or is this more of a challenge?"

John looks slightly puzzled, and I-. Oh.

"The Witch-Hunter Abednego called himself a synchronicity pilgrim, but that's a term I've only heard used by his people. And it doesn't have to be a spiritual journey in the classical religious sense."

"Oh?" Oliver looks at John curiously. "So how does it work?"

"Well, it's a bit…" He takes a breath as he slips the crystal back into his pocket. "A bit of self-hypnosis, a bit of reaching out to the magic around you and letting it guide you. You need some idea where you're trying to get, but at the same time you can't force how it takes you there."

"Can anyone learn it?"

"Anyone can learn magic. But there's usually good reasons not to."

Dinah and Alan stroll back in from having a word with Dr. Sivana, neither of them exactly looking happy about things.

"Problem?"

Alan shakes his head. "No, he's clean. It's just…"

Dinah exhales sharply. "It feels like he's getting off lightly."

"He wasn't being punished anyway. And this way the world benefits from his work. Though probably not from his analysis of romantic comedies."

Alan shakes his head again, but this time there's a small smile. "It's a shame more mad scientists aren't like him. Oh, how's that..? Therapy workshop Ted Kord was running coming along?"

"It's hard to find evidence of crimes not committed, but it's turning a profit and there haven't been any 'incidents' yet."

Dinah regards me curiously. "I'm a little surprised that you're not more..."

Alan raises his eyebrows. "Aggressive?"

Oliver holds out his right hand, palm up. "Vengeful?"

"Psychotically murderous?"

"You did boast that you'd killed more people than anyone else in human history."

"But Mister Crock hasn't tried to get in contact with his family, has he? Point is, I don't see any point in killing people who are straightening themselves out. My kill count comes from people in lawless regions of space who are perfectly fine being evil."

I step towards the machine. A quick scan shows that it's live, and similar enough to other similar devices that I've scanned that I'm confident that it does what it's supposed to.

Oliver looks around. "We're not bringing Kara with us?"

"I.. thought it best to make sure.. that they…"

He nods. "That they want her back."

"Basically." I press the helpfully labelled 'on' button and stand back as the space in the arch of machinery turns matte black. "Who wants to go first?"

John pulls another crystal out of his pocket and throws it into the blackness. It disappears as soon as it passes the aperture.

"Feels like it worked. And it feels-" He steps forward. "-like the place to g-."

He vanishes into the void.

Oliver watches the black rectangle for a moment. "Ah, how do we know it worked?"

I close my eyes, feeling for-.

I open my eyes, nodding. "He still exists. I can feel his route from here. Follow me."

I step into the blackness, and while there's a moment of disorientation, when I reappear a moment later I note with satisfaction that that was the smoothest transition that I've had from one of these things. John's just a little way ahead, picking up his crystal and holding it up to his face to study. We've.. come out in a woodland, it's… Huh, Yellowstone Park. Sky looks clear, and I'd say it's.. late morning, probably.

Didn't Demon Superman hit Yellowstone?

"John, are we-?"

"Huh." Oliver steps out of thin air behind me, looking around. "I was expecting something a little more… Beat up."

"I think we might have a problem."

"What, Sivana got the-" Dinah walks through behind him as he takes a more careful look around. "-wrong Earth?"

"Um. It.. doesn't look like a trap…"

"Go home and try again?"

"No." John shakes his head. "This is where we're supposed to be."

Oliver smiles. "The wizard's being all ominous and cryptic. Must be Tuesday."

"Also, it's not going to switch for a return journey for an hour. It's the one drawback of this machine."

Dinah tries her arm computer. "Can't find the local GPS."

Ring, scan the… Ah, scan just Yellowstone. Just in case someone can detect my scans.

Compliance.

I generate a map construct in the middle of our group. "Looks pretty normal. A few craters are in different places; looks like Morrow didn't build a base-."

"Alert! Incoming-!

The sun goes out, and my map shudders as it adjusts to fit-. Two giant-

Oliver puts an arrow on string. "Oh hell no."

-humanoids-.

I look up at the giant Amazo androids glowering down at us.

"Stand down, metahumans!"

And between them, a normal-sized woman in a grey uniform.

"You will be taken into custody, at which point it will be determined whether charges will be brought against you in addition to the charges for operating an unlicensed teleportation system."

Ah. Yes, that's…

"Let.. me just go and talk to her."

Oliver has an arrow on string, but he's keeping it pointed down.

"Orange, those are giant Amazos."

"Yes, and they're not attacking. Having overwhelming force that can be deployed against serious threats is a very sensible thing to do. But since we're not here to fight anyone, we should be able to talk things out."

I float up into the air, making sure to keep my constructs to myself.

"Hello! I'm-."

She snarls. "A Green Lantern. You're coming with-" She lunges towards me. "-me!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
08:06 GMT +2

"I'-"

Scenery skips and the trees around me shudder as whoever-this-is craters the ground with her fist armour.

"-m-"

My field of view skips again and now I'm directly behind the head of one of the Amazos as the Woman in Grey careens into the sky.

Construct armour.

"-not sure-"

And she's back and my armour is a spider's web of cracks as her fists move faster than I can keep track even in an accelerated frame of mind! Deploy kinetic shield generators inside the construct armour and exit through the back drop the armour and-.

And she flies at the kinetic barrier fists first and it holds, flaring into solidity. Though it's doing that unpleasant flashing thing that the ones I used in Argentina did when they got ridiculously overstretched. This version should be more resilient but my brief test with Kal-El led me to conclude that Amanda Waller's speech about how Superman couldn't break out of Belle Reve was double bullshit.

"Hello, I'm from parallel universe sixteen. I'm very sorry if-"

She eases off on the punching, watching me like a hawk.

"-I broke local law coming here, but-."

"Ignorance of the law is no excuse."

"Actually, I think this situation is more like being shipwrecked than anything else, and you can't get arrested for improper entry if your ship-"

This time she pulls back her right fist and drives from the shoulder!

"-sank."

I transition back as she drifts forward.

"I've still got you for resisting arrest and assault."

"Not unless standards are very different here to what they are at home." I consider shrugging, but she wouldn't be able to see inside my armour and I'm not taking it off. "You haven't formally identified yourself or provided evidence that you have arrest authority."

She frowns, clearly offended. "What?"

"We used laminated cards with a name, serial number and a crest indicating which organisation we work for? If you use something else-."

"Interceptor, Justice Society International."

…

"I'm sorry, did you say 'Justice Society International'?"

"So now you know who we are?"

"In my timeline, the Justice Society of America shut down in the fifties. I've still got no idea who you are, and you haven't presented me with an-"

The scenery skips again.

"-y identification, it's automatic, stop trying to hit me and try talking like a civilised person.".

"Lanterns aren't allowed on Earth."

"I'll leave as soon as my-." Oh. "Oh."

"Oh?"

"We were trying to get to Earth Six Six Six, which this clearly isn't. But since we don't know why we ended up here, it's… Probably not safe to.. use it until.. we work out why."

"Story falling apart already?"

"You detected our arrival. Presumably, you can narrow down the sort of teleportation device we used. I appreciate-" I gesture to the Amazos with my right hand. "-the rapid response squad, but since we're clearly not violent, it should be safe for you to call in a forensic team."

"Alien law enforcement organisations are not allowed on Earth."

"Are alien diplomatic officials?"

"You're not an alien."

"No, but you recognise the ring."

"We don't have diplomatic contact with Oa. They don't seem to get the whole 'this isn't your planet' thing."

"Serious question, I don't mean this as an insult: are you colour blind?"

"Power rings are Oan technology."

"Power rings are Maltusian technology, of which the grandly-titled 'Guardians of the Universe' are one faction. To the best of my knowledge-"

I try feeling the honden, and it's there, but no one else is drawing on it. No other active Lanterns at all.

"-the Orange Lantern Corps doesn't exist in this parallel, so I'm not trying to police anything. However, I still hold the rank of Illustres, and I still report directly to Controller Hinon Hee Hananan and no maltusian really likes dealing with aliens."

"Do you have any documentation to prove that?"

"Ah… I have a Themysciran diplomatic passport, but the Controllers sort of assume that the ring is.. enough."

She considers this for a moment. I can clearly see her desire for direct action, firmly bound by her drive for order. "You'll stay here while we bring in a team?"

I fan my arms out to the sides. "Happy to."

She's still staring at me, and I'm not sure if she's just naturally confrontational and can't cope with other means of interacting or if I'm actually doing something-

"What about the Green Arrow cosplayer, the Black Canary cosplayer and the creepy guy in the coat?

-suspicious.

"Green Arrow Sixteen, Black Canary Sixteen… Two, and John Constantine Sixteen. Ah… They're not diplomatic officials, but I can make them my staff?"

"You expect-."

"Making friends already, Paul?"

Alan floats up besides me and Interceptor actually backs off, her face falling slack.

"Commander?"

Alan look puzzled. "Ah, not that I know of? I'm from a parallel universe."

"Blue Lantern, she works for Justice Society International. Guess who didn't disband in the fifties here?"

"I.. see." He takes a moment to absorb that. "Then howsabout we go and say 'hi' to me?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th October 2013
Pass

"…whether or not you want to move back here full-time."

Slipstream looks down at the ruins of the city of Kaon and makes a decision very quickly. This isn't the city where she rose up against her masters rulers. This isn't the city where she trained for the war that would liberate her comrades.

"This is a giant pile of scrap."

Her partner glances up at her for a moment, only moving his eyes before he goes back to staring out across the… Giant pile of scrap.

"It's a magnificent pile of scrap. The sheer size of it…"

There's a.. sound, then she sees in the distance-

"Slipstream?"

-a swarm of swarm of swarm of ow!

She glares down in irritation, pulling her right leg away as her backstabbing partner lowers his scaled down power spear. "Hey!"

"You were glitching out. What did you see?"

She tests the servos in her right foot where he poked her. Not that they were short on materials for repairs but that stung!

"I'll rub some oil on it later. Did you spot Autobots?"

With the war… Technically over after Megatron threw in the towel-. Well, that was what the Autobot's broadcasts said, and they saw Knockout and teams of vehicons making repairs with Autobots in the ruins of Iacon when they over flew the area. Finding out whether it was true or not would require direct communication of a sort…

The thing about playing both sides against the middle so that you had the space to do your own thing was… It didn't exactly endear you to either of them. More to the point, the victor in a civil war might decide that they had the authority to actually make laws or something, and as accommodating as India had been, she didn't think that they would be prepared to fight it if the Autobots under Optimus Prime and his American allies starting kicking up dust about her and her partner staying on Earth after everyone else left.

And she'd just got the full-body oil bath working just the way she liked it.

"No. Scraplets."

"Ah." He raises his binoculars to his eyes, staring out across the former city with new focus. "Are they heading this way?"

She steels her sockets and engages her magnification systems to take a closer look.

"No. It looks like they're inert. There's not all that much left for them to eat here."

"How worried do we need to be?"

"You don't need to be worried at all. They don't eat humans."

"There is no 'we' without you, partner."

"I don't need to be worried unless they wake up. Usually-." She crouches, arm-mounted blasters deploying and tracking the slow-flying watch-scraplet. "Usually they'll take it in turns to stay awake, and the one that's awake can wake the rest of when there's food."

"How do you kill them?"

"Lure them into an enclosed space and the hit them with something they can't dodge. Glass gas and cryogenic spray were a good choice." Her wings tilt down for a moment. "Of course, back in the old days they'd just hand some poor clanker a photon bomb, paint them in energon and drop them into a swarm."

He pats her foot again, this time with his hand. For a moment she's confused. She hasn't forgotten that he's there and it doesn't look like he wants to direct her attention to something. Instead, he's… Trying to reassure her? About what happened to bots who blew up before his species discovered fire?

"They didn't drop me."

He takes his hand away, and she thinks that perhaps she did something wrong. That was the selfish thing to say, wasn't it?

"Does that affect our scavenging mission?"

"I don't think so. That's the old manufacturing sector. There won't be anything worth taking there that we can actually move."

"No transmetal samples?"

"Transmetal samples are rare. We might not find any, but we certainly won't find them in the labour pits."

He nods. "Museums and private laboratories it is. Same for polydermal grafting?"

"No. We'll need to get into Shockwave's laboratory for that. If any records still exist, that's where they'll be." She takes one last look at the slumbering scraplets, then retracts her blasters into her forearms. "That's also the dangerous part."

"I know." He exhales sharply, and she feels his irritation through their bond.

And she shares it. Getting the Apex Armour would have been nice, but instead it got picked up by Starscream and then captured by the Autobots. Plus the fact that the Apex Armour would let him tank shots for her. Getting into a facility with defences built by the greatest mind in the Decepticon army with just her own light frame isn't something she's exactly looking forward to.

Something twitches in her spark at the idea of Paul being able to exist on her scale, and deal with the world as she does. The alternative… Building her a techno-organic avatar, is… Weird. Not.. bad, having taken an organic as her 'partner' she's fully aware that she's given up the ability to insult 'alternate lifestyle choices' without being a titan-sized hypocrite. Doubly so given that the only reason they haven't gone further is that he doesn't have the parts.

Had they..? Rushed things?

Maybe. But if you're not prepared to go fast then you shouldn't be a seeker.

She transforms, popping open her canopy as she does so. And she actually feels her servos relax slightly as she feels his weight on her boarding ladder, on the rim of her cockpit and then finally into her chair. A chair she hadn't needed before she met him and just used her cockpit for improved optical sensors, but which she wouldn't be without.

Canopy closed, she activates her anti-gravity system and ion thrusters. Main engines would make far too much noise somewhere with scraplets -pit-spawned little miscasts that they are- and…

And fly.

She finds it strange how strange it feels to be flying inside again. The few Earth buildings big enough for her to walk inside certainly didn't have space for flying. And flying around the broken-apart remains of Junkion wasn't the same thing. Kaon wasn't repaired by whatever the Autobots did to fix the planet, but it's a lot more whole than she remembers it in the days before the exodus.

Which means she has to worry about which of Kaon's automated defences got repaired as well.

"Were you cast around here?"

"No."

An odd question. It's not as if she had any great ties to the long-destroyed factory platform where the Quintessons had her built. Then she feels his concern and realises that he felt the way her thoughts were drifting and decided to distract her. And as she slaloms around Kaon's corridors she can't think of a reason not to go along with it.

"No, but I spent a lot of time in Kaon. You want a tour?"

"I do."

"Okay then. Let's see what I can remember."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
08:21 GMT -5

We all stare at the JSI building as Alan and I fly our team over New York.

John smirks on the orange platform next to me. "Very subtle. I like it."

It's not subtle at all. A giant skyscraper with… The upper quarter of the building actually floating over the rest in what strikes me as an incredibly bad design choice. If anything interfered with the anti-gravity system it would just fall and kill everyone-.

"Nth metal, of course."

Interceptor glares at me from her position slightly above us.

"You aren't authorised to scan anything."

"I didn't; it's just obvious. No one would be stupid enough to build something like that with a normal anti-gravity system, so you used a material that would always be 'on'. It's still a bad design but at least it's not an immanent threat to life."

"That's a…" Alan frowns. "That's a lot of Nth metal to make a building float. Carter always told me that he didn't have much of the stuff."

"Critical resource availability is a classified topic."

Alan raises his left eyebrow at her. "Can't be that critical if you're using it to make a building."

"Critical-."

"Okay." He raises his right hand, smiling. "Okay. Forget I asked."

Oliver is sitting on the edge of Alan's construct, left leg dangling over the edge. He carefully studies the city, and-. And the several other buildings which have 'JSI' inscribed on their frontier.

He does not look happy.

Then he looks up towards Interceptor. "So, you think I'm a cosplayer, huh?"

"No."

He gives her a moment to expand on that, and is disappointed.

"What, the JSI doesn't do public relations training?"

"Either you're telling the truth, in which case you're not a member of the public, or you're lying, in which case you're a criminal. In either case you're wasting my time."

Oliver nods, and I already know that he's going to-.

"So what's he like?"

"I've never met him. As I understand it, he's a well-regarded hero in Star City."

"He's a member of the JSI?"

"All superheroes worth mentioning are members of the JSI."

"Huh."

Interceptor glances down when he doesn't have a follow up, but it's Dinah who speaks up.

"Am I a member?"

"Are you Dinah Drake?"

"That was my mother."

Oliver looks away for a moment with a smirk. I… Seem to remember from the comics that he actually mistook her for her mother when he was first starting out. And that he'd had a crush on her mother. For obvious reasons I've never asked…

"Who was your father?"

"Larry Lance."

"Oh."

Dinah narrows her eyes slightly, more in curiosity than hostility. "What do you mean, 'oh'?"

"In our universe she was only married to him for a few years. She had an affair with Starman and they both left their spouses. It was a big scandal at the time. They were both discharged from the Society. I think they had a daughter, but her name wasn't 'Dinah'."

Dinah takes a moment to process that, while I-.

A statue. Dominator, a couple of khundians, facing people I assume are local superheroes. A list of-. That's a long list of names.

"Why is there a statue of a Dominator down there?"

"You know of them?"

"I destroyed one of their prisons. They're a distant fourth on my priority list."

"'Distant'-?" Interceptor scowls. "The Dominators attacked Earth and made off with tens of thousands of humans as slaves! That memorial commemorates everyone who died fighting them and everyone they stole! Who are you prioritising above them?!"

"The Reach, Apokolips, then the Spider Guild. Our Dominators are pretty unpleasant, but they aren't expansionist. The Reach are, and they subvert, enslave and then exterminate their neighbours. Apokolips is working on a plan to mind control the entire universe. And the Spider Guilders eat people."

"The Dominion vivisect people."

"But not many, and not particularly fast. I did say they were fourth."

Alan looks at-. Yeah, okay. We make eye contact and I give him the nod to take over.

"Interceptor, how were they able to do that?"

"They had a space fleet and a huge number of soldiers. We couldn't hit their ships, and we couldn't fire nukes at our own cities. That's why the JSI has put so much effort into building up our forces: to make sure that no one invades the Earth again."

"How long ago was that?"

"About fifteen years."

Hm. Reminds me a little of what Abra said that the Reach ended up doing: grabbing as many people with superpowers as possible and setting up a colony. But while the Reach do sometimes sustain useful slave populations for a time, the Dominators generally don't bother. They have tributary worlds but they generally don't do much with them, having long since learned everything that studying them could teach them.

Of course… I do know where the Dominion is. There aren't that many worlds that the humans they abducted might have been taken to.

"I assume that the force they used was almost entirely Khundian? None of their own military?"

"Yes, that's.. right. Why?"

"I'll need access to your historical-"

A green streak flies towards us from the JSI building, the pale green flickering flame aura making it pretty clear who it is.

Commander Scott comes to a halt just ahead of us, floating in the air and staring at us in that way Batman does when he's waiting for you to make a problem for him. He's wearing what looks like a silver spacesuit, minus the helmet. Interceptor comes to attention in the air at once, while the rest of us just stare back.

Alan floats closer and I mentally compare the two. The Commander has less hair, and he looks a lot more fierce. More hostile. Might be situational, of course.

"Hey."

The Commander looks at him for a moment longer, then nods to Interceptor.

"He's me. All of you, come with me for debriefing."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
08:29 GMT -5

Silver-grey appears to be the JSI's uniform colour of choice. Particular designs vary, personal icons are allowed and the uniforms may be more or less armoured. Not sure whether that's-.

I stop for a moment, exhaling quietly.

**Brainwave, I can hear you perfectly well.**

There's no verbal response, but I notice that what I'm seeing starts to trigger fewer memory connections.

**And I noticed that as well. I'm not going to be annoyed-.**

Interceptor glares at me. "Do you need the bathroom?"

"No, I'm just having a word with Brainwave Two. You would not believe how long the Justice League went without telepathic security scans."

"'Justice League'?"

"Our Justice Society shut down in the fifties." At the front of the column, Commander Scott glances back with a small nod. "The Justice League is the organisation that does the equivalent job now."

I feel a subtle probe-.

**I'm being polite by asking. Is there something you're looking for in particular, or do you want me to eject you forcibly?**

Commander Scott glances back again as we approach his office. "Give Brainwave a break, Lantern. He's doing his job."

His eyes go slightly blank for a moment, and my mind returns to baseline performance levels.

"I'm linked to a powerful elemental. Last time she felt a hostile mind connected to mine, she ate it. I'm not threatening him, I'm warning him."

Oliver shrugs. "If it makes him feel any better, I didn't feel a thing."

Commander Scott stops outside of a secure door, two cybernetically augmented soldiers standing guard. I see their eyes flicker, presumably as they perform identification checks. Then they stand aside and the door opens.

Wait a.. moment.

I stop in front of one of the cyborgs, allowing my empathic vision to open up a little.

I smile at him. "Ah, I see what they did wrong."

"Sir?"

"The feeling of disassociation. They've rigged you up as if you had a lateralised brain, but you don't. As a result, half your body is lagging slightly. Your processor's trying to adapt, but you're subconsciously aware of the slight extra load. Want me to fix it?"

"A-?"

He's clearly surprised, his eyes darting first to the other soldier and then to his Commander. But his communications implants are also lighting up, so I assume that he's also using the proper channels.

"Corporal, you're relieved. Report for decontamination. Lantern, after we're done, write up what you think you found-"

A folder precipitates out of thin air and I pass it to the corporal.

"-and hand it over to our medical team. Corporal, hand it over before decon."

"Yes, Commander."

He takes a firm grip of the folder and marches off down the corridor.

The Commander fixes me with a stone stare. "Stop scanning my soldiers."

"That wasn't-. Not all of my abilities need a ring. I'd need a magic blindfold to stop looking at people."

"Just get in the office. Interceptor, you're with us."

He heads in, the rest of the party having already filed through. Alan's looking at a picture on his desk with a frown, while the rest have found seats-.

Oh no. That's a picture of Commander Scott with Molly Mayne, Jade and Obsidian. Alan's… Looking at Molly's face.

Commander Scott walks around to his side of the desk, clearly spotting what's holding his alter-ego's attention. A moment later Alan realises that the Commander is looking at him and switches his attention to his doppelgänger.

"You remarried?"

"You didn't?"

"No, I-. I always hoped Rose would snap out of it."

Commander Scott nods, as if that makes sense to him. "My Rose was dead. And I still left it for a good long time before marrying Molly."

"Hm."

Interceptor remains standing at parade rest behind the chair line. I ignore the spare chair and generate a construct to sit on instead.

Commander Scott takes a moment to make eye contact with each of us. "So you were trying to get somewhere else. Where?"

"Earth Six Six Six." Commander Scott narrows his eyes interrogatively at Alan. "I know, I know. They got taken over by demons a while ago, and…" Alan glances at me. "Paul and.. some allies of his went over and got rid of them. One of their people ended up in our Earth, so we're going to make sure things are okay there before sending her back."

"Is Earth Six Six Six any threat to you, or to us?"

"It was. One of their demon cults was invading at least one other parallel that I know of. But we shut that down, and the survivors are busy sticking their planet back together. Or, were, when I left."

Commander Scott nods. "Do you think something went wrong with your portal?"

"N-"

Oliver puts his right fist over his mouth. [cough]"Yes."[/cough]

"-o, it doesn't seem likely, if only because the individual who built it wouldn't have any reason to send us here. But there are ways to interfere with inter-parallel travel, and I suspect that's what we ran into."

"You mind sharing that technology?"

"The shield?" He nods. "No problem at all, though I should warn you that it can be bypassed."

I raise my left hand, and a binder containing the technical specifications appears on his desk.

He nods. "As far as I know, there's no equivalent technology, or.. research that could lead to the development of that technology, on our Earth. We'll do a check just in case, but I doubt that the problem is with us."

I generate a construct hand and poke John with it.

"Whu-? Oh. No, I know we're supposed to be here but I don't know why. I can go for a wander if our hosts don't mind..?"

Commander Scott frowns at Alan, who shrugs. "Wizard."

"Oh." He turns to John. "You can't go anywhere unescorted, but we can find someone who can do the job. If you don't have any better ideas, the rest of you can work with our science team on your problem. We don't like people dropping in unannounced any more than you like being here."

Nods from the Leaguers. But I don't think I'd really add anything. I might have records of super science, but that doesn't mean that it's my field. On the other hand, if I'm trying to earn points with the locals to defray suspicion…

"Actually, if you don't need me, I was wondering if you wanted me to have a poke at the Dominators for you?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th October 2013
Probably A Few Hours Later

"At least we don't have to worry about traps scratching your decals."

Slipstream looks around at the blasted hole that was once Shockwave's roof. Whatever the Autobots did to repair Cybertron has had next to no effect on the heavily damaged workshop that was once home to the greatest mind in the Decepticon cause. She'd assumed that when he turned up on Earth it was because he'd finished whatever he was doing on Cybertron and had decided that it was time to put his work to use. The fact that the Decepticons started using Predacons a little while later gave credence to the idea.

That he gave up on Cybertron because someone wrecked his workshop just never occurred.

"We might find something in storage."

"Don't worry too much." Her partner pats her control panel, though he doesn't touch the controls because it's no time for that. "We've found plenty of useful technical data. Finding a workable method for bio-transference was always a pie in the sky thing anyway."

She thought that was the whole point of coming here; either getting the materials he needed to cyberise more of his body or getting her the materials for a techno-organic avatar. Since they're probably not going to get that, isn't this a waste of time?

"You're not disappointed?"

"I got to see a magnificently desolate alien world in the company of a local guide whom I adore. We downloaded data which we can not merely sell for our own enrichment, but hold over potential enemies so that they daren't attack us for fear it will end up in the hands of their enemies. To say nothing of the repairs it will let us make to the cybertronian technology left on Earth. Sure, we didn't get some of the things that would have been nice to have, but it's not that big a deal."

"You sounded so hopeful when we talked about it. I don't want you to be disappointed and not tell me."

"If I worried about what I didn't have the whole time, I'd never spend any time appreciating what I have. What we have. I hope we'll never run out of things to strive for, but life's pretty good. Isn't it?"

Huh.

"It is. It really is." She increases resolution on her sensors, improving her view of Shockwave's laboratory. "Still worth going in?"

"If you can't detect any weapons. It won't break my heart if we don't get it, but I'd still like it."

"Alright."

She reduces power to her anti-gravity and shifts her thrusters, performing a shallow dive which takes them through the hole in the roof. She tenses as they enter the room, but no turrets deploy from the walls and no voices shout in alarm. Feeling a little mischievous, she pops her canopy and transforms, tossing her partner into the air and catching him in her right hand as she lands on her feet. She smiles at the way his normally calm and confident expression is suddenly discombobulated, not sure which way's up and what's going on, because that's how he makes her feel a lot of the time and this is the best she can to do pay him back.

He rests his arms on her forefinger. He regains his calm almost immediately, but she can feel the tremor as his chest pump pounds to increase the flow of fuel to his servos.

"I've changed my mind. We'll find a way to transfer me into a titan, just so I can do that to you."

"Sure." She puts him down on what used to be a computer console. "A titan. I'm sure we can find-."

Ptchung!

The burst of purple energy hits Slipstream directly in the chest, sending her hurtling backwards, her cockpit and the surrounding armour melted to slag!

Ptchung!

The second shot hits her right shoulder as she stumbles, bursting the joint apart and sending the arm pinwheeling across the chamber, guns halfway deployed as liquid fuel leaks from the wound!

Chm. Chm.

At first, all he can see is a glowing red eye.

Chm. Chm.

Then the huge bulk of Shockwave marches into view, gun arm pointed at Slipstream who is struggling to remain animate.

"Slipstream. And.. pet."

He raises his gun arm, pointing it at Slipstream's head as she tried to lever herself up on her remaining arm. She freezes, optics locked on glow of the gun's interior.

"I do not know how you found me, but I find the fact that I have the opportunity to remove you as a distraction… Satisfying."

Her eyes dart to her-.

"Senator Shockwave." The tiny human spreads out his arms in a gesture of appeal that Shockwave almost certainly doesn't recognise. Senator? Was that what he was before the Great War? "What possible good is there in killing us?"

"Ordinarily I would interrogate you for information. But I do not have the resources to spare."

His gun chimes as he charges-.

"I believe that this course of action is illogical."

His gun doesn't move, but his head swivels to glare at the human.

"Slipstream has betrayed the Decepticon cause. Killing her will permanently remove her as a threat. Killing you will permanently remove you as an information leak."

"What is the Decepticon cause?"

"The destruction of the Autobots."

"And that's it?"

"Explain."

"I remember, Senator, that you have a rather different answer prior to your…" he points to his face. "Empurata and mnemosurgery."

"A different age."

"But you remember it. The aim of a Decepticon is not just to be a Decepticon; that's a circular definition. It is to achieve freedom for all the Cybertronians the old High Council oppressed. To cast them down and ensure that their kind can never regain power. Isn't it?"

"It was. But that definition is no longer relevant."

"Oh, I think it is. What are the High Council doing right now?"

"They are dead."

"And do the Autobots use cold construction? Do they have slaves? Castes?"

"They do not. This discussion is irrelevant."

"No, it isn't. Because you've recognised the contradiction. Killing us might help the organisation that calls itself 'The Decepticons' in the sense that it gives the group a tactical advantage, but it doesn't do anything to advance the cause that is supposed to define the organisation. Can you be a Decepticon without doing Decepticon things? Without fulfilling the function that defines them?"

"That-." Shockwave's optical unit spins, and his gun lowers as he devotes more time to considering the subject.

"I'm curious. Even after you had the opportunity to reverse what they did to you, you never took it. Why?"

"The capacity for logical thought was more useful to the cause than empathy."

"You concluded that logically, weighing up the alternatives?"

"Yes."

"And you did that after your enemies fiddled around with your mind? How do you know that it was a logical decision, when the thing you were using to decide whether or not it was logical was the thing they altered? How do you know you haven't been following High Council programming ever since?"

Shockwave staggers, his gun arm hanging loose. Paul checks Slipstream. She.. doesn't look good, and she's definitely feeling pain, but she doesn't look like she's in danger of bleeding out.

"I-. If.. the objective of the Decepticon organisation has been achieved-. We… Won. The War would be… Over. Anyone who stands against the caste system… Is a Decepticon. But… That includes all current generation Autobots. Why-? Why didn't I see it before?"

"Because the High Council programmed you not to. To think in tactical, act utilitarian terms and ignore long term strategic issues. They didn't want a reasonable, compassionate Senator working against them from inside government and rallying the population to force them to reform. But a cold, hard killer would work fine as a threat to scare the population who were worried about what Megatron was doing in Kaon."

"That… Is… Logical. Then-. There is no reason to.. kill. And even if you are mistaken about what the High Council did to me, there is no overriding reason to maintain this mindset. In fact, my prior way of thinking is more likely to be useful as Optimus Prime forges a new government."

He lowers his gun, deliberately this time.

"No individuals with the required skills to reverse mnemosurgery survive into the modern era."

"There may be a way around that. If you give Slipstream the medical attention that she needs."

"What is that?"

"Prayer."

16th October 2013
Once Slipstream Is Up And Taking Light Refreshment

The guns are pointing over his head as he strides out of the ground bridge and into the Autobot command centre.

"Hello, Optimus. I need to borrow the Matrix really quickly. Don't worry, I'll bring it back."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
10:14 GMT -5

I grin as I spot the latest addition to the room.

"Princess Koriand'r! Good to see you!"

Glowing green eyes and a slightly puzzled explanation confront me, her head wreathed in the gloriously frizzy eighties hair that I saw on the version of her on Earth with the Gold Lantern Corps.

"I am sorry, I do not think that we have met."

"Parallel universe." I hold up my left fist, knuckles and ring facing her. "When I founded the Orange Lantern Corps, our Koriand'r was one of the first wave of recruits."

I generate construct images of her and Komand'r. Koriand'r looks at her own image with curiosity, while-.

"You recruited Blackfire?"

While the local Starman regards me with incredulity.

"I encountered her before she went-" I dismiss the constructs. "-full evil. Our Vega's a much better place with certain people no longer in it."

Koriand'r smiles. "The Citadel is defeated?"

"I killed the First myself, and destroying the Citadel Complex and fleet was a team effort. The Spider Guild sept sued for peace after their leaders were killed, Karna now belongs to the Karnans and the Psion's Wombworld was scoured from orbit."

"Heh." The masked Atom Smasher nods approvingly. "Thorough."

"It's not very often you encounter a species with literally no redeeming moral characteristics. Vega was unlucky enough to have two. Past tense. I-."

Interceptor drops down next to me, having been talking to the platoon of cyborg soldiers on the other side of the room. Most of them are humanoid, but a few have more unusual shapes. Those ones appear to have… Clouded or suppressed emotional responses. Are they condemned criminals? Or do the people with weaker emotions just cope with it best?

"That's everyone. We're ready."

I nod, then turn back to Koriand'r. "No time right now, but if you're interested in a power ring, come and see me after the mission."

"Very… Well?"

I float over to the stage where Alan and Commander Scott are ready to begin. Just.. one addition.

Ring, call Green Two Eight One Four. Both of them.

Error. Only one connection available.

Ah, the old 'one-Lantern-and-however-many-deputies' system. I remember a comic where Jordan got knocked out slipping on a bar of soap and… Stewart? Got subbed in with no notice and little training. Terrible system.

He'll do.

Jordan's face appears. I suppose that not having to deal with Earth's nonsense means that he's a little likelier to live to an old age.

"Green Lantern Two Eight One Four. Commander Scott."

Commander Scott turns to the glowing face of the man he chased off Earth.

"Green Lantern, on this one occasion, I am inviting you to Earth. My location."

"Why? You hate me."

"No, I just have no respect for the people you work for. You can quit at any time and come home without us charging you with anything. But this is an off-Earth operation-"

A few ears in the audience metaphorically prick up.

"-so you are actually relevant in your current role."

"Where?"

"Metropolis. My current location."

"Okay, but-. 'Off-world'? You're going to-!"

"Come or don't." His eyes dart to me, and I cut the connection. He nods, then walks over to the podium. "As I know you all just heard, we've just had an opportunity handed to us. Our parallel universe friends here both have power rings with all their functions unlocked. That means they can both fly faster than light with passengers."

He gives that a moment to sink in, then makes it clear in case anyone is a little slow.

"That means that we can finally hit the Dominion."

There's an excited exhalation, eyes opening wide with feverish desire. I've seen the same thing in the faces of thousands of people where the Reach are concerned. People from Earth 16 barely know that the Dominion exists, and that's from my reports. Here, they appear to be global hate figures.

"While the Justice Society International is primarily charged with protecting Earth…" He smiles. "I'd be lying if I said we didn't hope an opportunity like this would come along at some point."

"It's been fifteen years. There isn't much chance that the people they took are still alive. But the dominators who took them almost certainly are, and we could get lucky. Orange Lantern-" I raise my right hand and then lower it. "-and Blue Lantern-" Alan waves. "-will take our taskforce to a world on the border of Dominion space, then perform reconnaissance operations in an attempt to locate exactly where our people were taken and by whom. Once we have that information, we will be attacking in force with the aim of killing everyone involved in the attack on Earth."

Several nods.

"Orange Lantern has provided briefing documents on Dominion society." JSI staffers begin walking around the room, handing out binders to the attendees who aren't able to download them into their brains. "And it turns out that despite the impression they gave us, most of their population aren't involved in raiding other worlds for test subjects. Turns out that it's the exclusive purview of their rulers, the ones we all remember from their broadcasts with the big red circles on their foreheads. Those are all considered acceptable targets, as is anyone with a gun or any kind of super power. The rest are generally slightly less dangerous than humans are, and we are not going to punish them for the deeds of their overlords."

The nods to that comment are more sombre, but he chose well when he assembled this gathering. None of them are interested in taking it out on the entire population. I suppose that's what separates superheroes from...

Alright, even I thought 'me' there. But dominators aren't spiders or reacheans. Spiders consider it normal and pleasurable to drug their sophont victims awake as they eat them. Reacheans love lording it over alien slaves. Most dominators don't even have contact with aliens.

"Any humans we locate will be evacuated and put through a thorough decontamination session before being returned to Earth. In the event that we manage to kill all of our targets and complete the rescue, I will authorise infrastructure destruction missions as I deem appropriate. It probably won't be practical for us to take away their ability to wage interstellar war, but I'll feel much happier with them keeping what's left of their fleet home to ward off their neighbours."

The platoon commander of the cyborgs raises his hand and gets a nod.

"Could we capture their ships, sir?"

"While our new Lantern allies can read any spoken or written language, the rest of us don't have that ability. Learning how to fly Dominion ships isn't something we can do on the fly, and they have a completely different technology base to us. Time allowing, we might be able to capture examples of their equipment, but it's a low priority task."

The cyborg nods.

"Once that mission is completed, and everyone is fully recovered, we will plan our assault on the khundians."

I raise my right hand. "Commander?"

He glances back and nods.

"Khundian marriage law says that anyone who defeats a khundian man inherits his wife or wives. I'm happy to help with the mission, but I'm going to need someone who's single to punch me out afterwards."

The wave of laughter is punctuated by the figure in green appearing at the back of the room.

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
10:22 GMT -5

"You're going to what?"

It's interesting to see someone other than Guy whose ring shimmers like that. Guy's ring actually stopped doing it after he merged with Ion; these days it sort of iridesces but not in the same way.

Commander Scott's posture doesn't change as the much younger Sector Lantern squares up to him. No defensive arm crossing, no clenching of hands into fists and no twitching to betray nerves. I don't know how good this Jordan is; our Jordan wasn't at anything like my current level when we first met, and that's with him dealing with Earth-brand madness for most of his career. He's perfectly capable now, if not quite as good as Guy or me, but this Jordan hasn't had that.

"We're going to retaliate against the Dominion. And I've made it perfectly clear that if your Lantern Corps couldn't stop them coming here then you've got no grounds for stopping us."

"That's not how it works. Two wrongs-."

"Enslaving people is wrong. Killing mass-murdering slavers is right."

Jordan takes a breath to calm down, taking a look at Alan and I as he does so.

"And what, you dusted off the old Injustice League power rings? I didn't think you still had those. Is he supposed to be Catwoman or Chronos?"

"I'm the Illustres of the Orange Lantern Corps, parallel universe sixteen. My ring was made by Maltus-resident Controller Hinon Hee Hannanan." I raise my left hand slightly. "This one, anyway. This-" I raise my ring hand to show off Larfleeze's ring. "-one was made by a group effort back when the maltusians were experimenting with power ring technology. I think it was mostly Krona."

Commander Scott flashes me a mild frown.

"'Illustres'?"

"When Green Lanterns are first recruited, they go to Oa for training. Once they graduate, they return to their Sectors as Sector Lanterns. If they serve well they may eventually be considered for promotion to the Honour Guard, an elite group of Lanterns based on Oa who serve as a high powered strike force. The leader or leaders of the Honour Guard have the title 'Illustres', and are probably the most powerful combat Lanterns in the Corps. Above them is the Clarissi, who runs the Corps day to day." I raise my eyebrows at Jordan. "I assume that the Green Lantern Corps in this parallel uses the same system?"

He nods, frowning. "You think you're that good?"

"I've destroyed war fleets, taken on multiple Reach scarabs in combat and I once span the moon around on its axis. So yes, I do think I'm that good."

A quiet exhalation through his nose, then he turns to Alan. "And, what, you're the Illustres of the 'Blue Lantern Corps'?"

"No, I'm the only guy with a blue ring, far as I know." Jordan narrows his eyes as he hears Alan talk. "Paul had to talk a Qwardian Weaponer into making it."

"You're-. Him, from a parallel universe? Oh great. And you got that ring from a Weaponer?"

"Same one as made Sinestro's ring, in point of fact. Apparently, turning something as uplifting as hope into a weapon is something he feels proud of."

"Figures." He returns his attention to Commander Scott. "So why am I here?"

"For one, there's a chance that the Dominion might spot what we're doing and send a fleet to Earth. If that happens, our forces will be ready, but it would help to have someone around who can hit targets in orbit."

"Just to protect Earth?"

"If that's all you're prepared to do, yes. I'd prefer it if you and whatever Lantern is supposed to be dealing with the Dominion joined in with the attack. Orange Lantern and Blue Lantern are transporting our strike teams, and having you along would increase our carry capacity. In return-"

"This better be good."

"-I can offer you a cooperation agreement. You'll be able to come to Earth in costume in pursuit of alien criminals. We'll expect you to work with us, because you are working for an alien government, but we will extend you the same cooperation an Earth police force would an officer from another country in hot pursuit of a criminal."

"That's less cooperation than I get from every other planet in this Sector."

"It's all you'll get from us."

"You'd still take them into custody and expect me to apply to extradite them."

"Yes."

"Could I just visit Earth?"

"As long as you understand that you don't have any official standing or status outside of our agreement, and keep us informed of your movements, yes." A very small and unfriendly smile appears on Commander Scott's mouth. "Missing Carol that much, Jordan?"

Jordan looks away for a moment, but-. Ring, access-. No, don't, they haven't given me permission and I shouldn't take advantage. Neither Commander Scott or Interceptor have facial coverings, and most of the superheroes in the meeting had bare faces as well. Do secret identities just not exist here?

"Fine. There's no Lantern assigned to the Dominion, but I can fly there and back. I should make sure that you people don't go crazy when you get there."

"I've already given orders to focus on military targets. Don't you need to check this with your masters on Oa?"

"No, this is something I can decide for myself. The Guardians don't micromanage Lanterns. Most Green Lanterns hand over their prisoners to the local authorities once they've defeated them."

"Which completely undermines their authority."

Yeah, it does. I'm sure that I've-.

Jordan stares at me. "Something you want to say, 'Illustres'?"

"It's just that I've had this discussion back home. Seeing the Justice Society International implement one of my suggested solutions is.. fascinating for me. I really-" I turn to Commander Scott. "-want to have a look at your SOP bible once we're done."

He smiles faintly. "That's gotta be the first time anyone's ever said that."

"Wait." Jordan narrows his eyes. "You wanna start something like this in your reality?"

"I want to use the example the JSI has set to advise the League on how to expand. At the moment they're not.. very organised. Extremely capable as individuals, but there's no real philosophy on what the organisation is supposed to be in its… Final form. It impedes their effectiveness."

Alan snorts. "If that's how you feel, you could always try joining up."

"I suspect that I'd get outvoted and just make myself part of the problem. But if the League sees someone actually do what I've been talking about, that might change things. Anyway, Jordan, do you want to come with us when we do our reconnaissance flight, or do you want to wait here?"

"I think I'd better come with you."

"Alright." I raise my right hand to my forehead. "Try to keep up."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
10:55 GMT -5

And… Yes. Yes, they're not repositioning.

Finally.

Half an hour. Because the Dominion are perfectly capable of tracking Lanterns and Lantern FTL. But they can't track instant transition, and they can't track a Lantern who isn't actually using their ring. So if wave around a construct, drop it and transition and then rely on my armour's life support system, they don't know where I am. For the most part they appeared to assume that I was still in my original location and running silent there.

So they sent ships and didn't find me.

Repeat that fifty or so times-.

Fifty three.

Thank you, ring. Fifty three times, and they appear to be assuming that the Guardians are testing their response times or something because the ships are keeping to their patrol patterns. On the basis of the messages they've been broadcasting, I'd say that they find this mildly irritating but not worth making a fuss about. They've probably got a high caste research group trying to work out how to detect me.

Will detected. Hope detected.

Right on the borders of Dominion space. I

step out and

reappear next to Alan and Jordan where they float in interstellar space.

"What kept you?"

Jordan's eyes narrow, but more in curiosity than anger. "How did you do that?"

"Mysticism. Each colour has an embodiment, a huge elemental life form associated with the emotion that Lanterns use to activate their rings. Each embodiment has a… Place, where all of their associated emotion exists. I can travel to that place, and from there to anywhere that emotion has ever existed. It's a learnable ability."

"You're saying Green Lanterns can do that?"

"I'm saying that there's no logical reason why a Green Lantern couldn't learn to do it. I have never observed a Green Lantern actually doing it."

"I couldn't scan you coming in."

"Magic tattoos. Try now."

He raises his ring a little, a radar dish construct appearing along side him.

"I'm barely getting you on some things and not getting you at all on others."

"Since you're getting the freedom of the planet for this, you should look into augmenting your abilities. Anyway." Two orange packets leap from my ring and flies to each of theirs. "That's the location of the Dominion Home Defence Fleets and those Deep Space Fleets I've spotted so far. The little ships are expendable drones, the medium sized ones are tanks and the big ones are where-."

Alan frowns in puzzlement. "Tanks?"

"Good shields and armour, designed to survive being hit a lot. As far as I can tell, their guns aren't anything special."

"Tanks have a big gun. Do they have..? A fixed big gun, or-."

"Not a-. Not a literal tank. It's a roleplay term used to refer to-." He's grinning. "Okay, very funny."

Jordan looks blank. "Huh?"

Alan waves his right hand. "Just a… Just a little joke between me and the boy."

He's not getting it.

"Alan's in his nineties. He likes to play up the old man-."

"You're kidding." He looks at Alan, then back at me. "You're not kidding."

"You know Commander Scott-."

"Well, yeah, but I just assumed the timelines didn't line up or something. How?"

Alan floats closer and lays his right hand on Jordan's left shoulder, and I already know-

"I ate my greens, son."

-what he's going to say.

"His ring was damaged, and he ended up absorbing enough green light into himself that he's partially transubstantiated."

"Green."

"Jordan, I'm happy to blow our trumpets all day, but we've got a Dominion to humble."

"That sort of thing got you a blue ticket in my day."

"Do you want to do one more to get it out of your-"

"No, I'm fine."

"-system? Okay, good. So the Dominion don't appear to have anything I couldn't destroy on my own-." I see the look on Jordan's face, and nod seriously. "Those big ships probably have some very creative weapon systems on them, so they're the main target. They will also almost certainly have Lantern interdiction systems on them, so, Alan, you're a distraction-."

"Thank you."

"And that's three. Jordan, you're on evacuation duty and general monitoring."

"And you're going to take those ships on by yourself."

"No, I'm going to take one of those ships on at a time by myself once Alan's drawn off their escorts."

"So you've found which world has the abducted humans on it." He hesitates. "Right?"

"No. This is about making them think that they're being attacked by a Super Lantern so they cluster up their fleets and let us get a good look at their territory without them being able to interfere with our work."

"Do Super Lanterns exist?"

"In our parallel, Larfleeze and Lord Malvolio would both qualify, so if it comes up suggest they look in Vega or Sector One Six Three Four. They're the only Lanterns I know of with more raw power than me. So."

I generate a construct representation of the Dominion, marking major industrial worlds and all fleets with at least one of their largest class of ships.

"That one, that one, that one and then that one. No hanging about. They're probably going to send a threatening message to Oa at that point. If they try to get in touch, just tell them that you're monitoring the situation but haven't engaged the Dominion yourself. If the Guardians want more, put them through to me."

"I.. can do that."

"This fleet appears to be a patrol fleet for the industrial zone here. There might be human prisoners there, but it's probably the easiest fleet to attack. We'll go there first. I'll metaphorically moon a few other fleets to give them a false sense of security while you get into position."

I smile.

"Let's kill some very bad people."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
11:07 GMT -5

Huh. They've responded to me getting closer by spreading their drone ships out widely, though their shield ships are still holding position around their capital ships. One of the fleets tried sneaking stealthed drones close enough to my position to get a meaningful look at me with optical sensors, so I backed off a little quicker there. Maybe they'll decide that the Green Lantern doing it isn't authorised by the Guardians, maybe the Guardians will get a report about an orange Lantern and have a bit of a panic about Larfleeze.

Okay, not panic. Guardian-panic.

Which will hopefully encourage everyone to a cautious-

My ring blinks and

I disengage, moving

to Alan's location.

-state of mind.

Alan's actually armoured up, and-.

"Alan, is that body armour you're wearing?"

"I don't think a superhero should wear it, but with the Sheeda, and… The fact that I might be called into action against things like that in the future… That's not the same thing."

"I'm not criticising the decision. It's nice to know that I got through." … "Lantern Jordan, regarding your personal protective equipment-."

"If you're offering, I'll take it."

"I can't imagine our Jordan saying that, but I'm not going to refuse." Orange rays flare out, getting his measurements. "Now, since you're not used to power armour and I'm not a wizard, this is just-" I begin creating armour around his body. "-for small arms and debris. Don't assume that you can take hits from ship weapons with it."

"Got it."

"Same with the force fields. Don't block shots with your body just because you're a little bit more protected. Your main defence is-"

"My ring, got it."

"-evasion first, ring-generated defences second."

I consider giving him one of those authorised side arms that Guy uses, but since the plan doesn't involve him actually getting into combat, I'll skip it.

"Alright, ready to go." I detach my filaments from him as he checks to see if it impairs his movement. Obviously it impairs it more than the skin tight body stocking he usually wears, but he seems to find it acceptable. "Go when ready. I'll move once the capital ship's escort is distracted."

Alan and Jordan take off, becoming invisible to the unaided eye moments later. The Dominion don't bother interdicting interstellar space in their territory, for much the same reason that spiders don't put 'Caution' signs out outside their webs.

The Dominion fleet responds… Yes, by not doing a lot. Some drones are heading out on an interception course, but they're continuing to ignore them. Closer, closer… They're past the orbit of the system's outermost planet now, and… The fleet is slowing.

Now who's on board?

I see a desire to experiment on a Lantern, to discover what makes the brain behind the ring a good match. Surprisingly little irritation about Lanterns being here, and… Working on a gravity-based weapon?

Inspiring.

Alan and Jordan fly… Not all that far away from an automated mining platform, and Alan punches it with a giant boxing glove construct, sending it flying into one of its neighbours. The impacts reduce them both to mangled wrecks and then they both fall into a decaying orbit around one of the system's gas giants.

That gets a response. The shield ships start turning, increasing their power output to combat levels and strengthening their shields.

Okay. Keep going, keep going…

Alan generates a slingshot construct and sends an asteroid hurtling towards the inner rocky world which the Dominion has colonised. That gets them worried, and the capital ship appears to bend in space as it uses gravity manipulation to turn itself around and begin moving towards Alan. It's dragging the shield ships along with it…

Hm.

I

step out, reappearing

just behind the 'bubble' of altered gravity. Ah, technique seven, thank you Dox, not easy to perform but easy to ramp up when you want to drag a fleet around.

But that does mean that if I do this-

The capital ship's superstructure concertinas as its own gravity manipulation is turned against it, the bubble turning into a flat plane. The shield ships appear to be less affected, their more heavily reinforced hull and smaller size combined with the fact that they're off the plane of the new distortion meaning that they're far more able to absorb the damage.

-and then this…

The capital ship snaps along the centre line, the upper portion and lower portion drifting slightly away from each other. Lights start going out as main power loses its connections to just about everywhere. Dominator elites generally go into lockdown at times like this, as there's not really anything that they can add to an emergency situation like this and their survival is of paramount importance.

Singularity projector.

That got a response. The few available drones begin flying in my direction, and the rear shield ships deploy their weaponry.

Too late.

The singularity beam slices the ship-halves into quarters, catching a shield ship as it passes and pulverising it. I

move

to a dorsal position and carefully target the high caste enclave before firing once more.

That should be sufficient.

I step out and

return to the outskirts of the system, ring feeding me data on what the other Dominion fleets are doing.

"Alan, Jordan, task complete."

They turn around, the Dominion ships which were heading towards them having turned around to back up their overlords.

The other fleets on the other hand have not yet responded. I'd be surprised if no message went out, but this is probably a high caste decision now and they're not going to jump to a conclusion.

Not until I destroy a few more ships, anyway.

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
11:22 GMT -5

Multiple omnidirectional forms of instantaneous communication squawk out across the Dominion, some aiming for my little team, some for other Dominators and others heading for Oa. From the glow of Jordan's ring, I suspect that he's listening in on some of them.

"Problem?"

"Not yet." His ring dims. "Just thinking… The Dominion have been raiding worlds for longer than the Green Lantern Corps has existed. You're making them look like chumps."

"It's like beating Bat-. Ah, a superhero from Earth Sixteen. A very intelligent man who's very good at developing counters to his enemy's strategies. You hit them and you don't stop hitting them until they're dead. If you leave them alive, you can assume that they'll have a counter to everything that you did the first time around within a depressingly short amount of time."

"What did you say he was called?"

"Batman."

"Ah… Okay."

"Bats used to scare him when he was a boy, so when he wanted to become something criminals would fear, he chose them as his emblem."

"No, no, I mean, objectively, it's no worse than what a lot of people pick. I guess bats are kinda scary." He thinks for a moment. "So you're saying that the Green Lantern Corps should have finished the Dominion off?"

"That… Depends. Green Lanterns have a lot of area to cover and there generally aren't that many of you. I could understand your Corps deciding that it didn't have the manpower, or that other things were more urgent. And… You're primarily a policing organisation."

"But?"

"I read a book a while ago. Set on Earth, there was some sort of environmental disaster which caused an outbreak of huge tsunamis all over the world. A group of… I think it was French naval vessels were assigned to evacuate a group of islands which were going to be destroyed. Problem was, those islands were controlled by criminal gangs whose main sources of income were narcotic production and paedophile sex tourism. The rest of the population were their hostages. The French didn't have the resources to carry out a rescue mission. So, the commanding Admiral tells his subordinates that he's taking full responsibility, and orders the marines to shoot through the hostages. In the first ten minutes a lot of innocent people die, then the gangs realise that killing people isn't working and is ensuring that the French don't take them alive. So they drop their weapons and surrender, allowing the island to be safely evacuated. The total deaths were far fewer than there would have been if he'd ordered a series of rescue missions or just abandoned the place."

"So… What, we should just abandon Sectors so we've got the manpower to destroy things like the Dominion?"

"I'd need to know more about your Corps' deployments before I gave a firm answer. I'd probably argue for encouraging Sectors to build up their security fleets and establishing mutual defence pacts rather than just disappearing with no warning, but… Yes."

Heh.

"Another example for you. The last wolf in England was killed in Thirteen Ninety. Not because of the destruction of habitat, no. The people hunted them down and killed them with malice aforethought, because they realised that big pack predators were a threat to people and their farm animals. About thirty years later a giant pack of man eating wolves laid siege to Paris for three years, before invading the city and doing battle with the city guard, killing at least forty of them. A hundred years ago, during World War One, German and Russian soldiers had a truce so they could fight off the giant packs of man eating wolves that were attacking them."

"You know where doesn't have problems with packs of man eating wolves?"

He nods. "England."

"For now. We're reintroducing them. But the general rule is, deal with small problems early or they can grow. Deal with big problems hard or they'll ruin everything else. When we arrived on this parallel's Earth, Interceptor and two Amazos were right there in less than a minute. On our Earth something like that might not even get noticed. And that's after we had to deal with a time travelling invasion fleet."

"I guess-."

Behind us, Alan breathes a sigh of relief, the construct over his ring showing a orbital plot.

"Problem?"

"Oh, no." He dismisses the construct. "I was just checking what happened to that rock I threw at the planet in our first fight. They managed to redirect it. I was a little worried I might have to go back."

"And what I just said is something Alan would never say, and that's one of the reasons why I like him so much."

"Ah, thanks." Alan looks towards our next target. "Are they clustering up, or..?"

"Yes. Combined fleets in position to reinforce worlds we attack, with weak picket fleets around their worlds because they don't think we're going to perform ground strikes. A rational and pragmatic response which would cost them if any of their neighbours had the resolve to punish them for it."

I make eye contact with Jordan.

"Jordan."

"I'll talk to the local Lanterns when we're done here."

I nod. "Alan, you can make a zeta tube construct, right?"

"Yeah."

"That's probably an easier way to get everyone into position than picking them up and carrying them. I think…"

I create a construct of the local systems… Yes, a rocky planetoid in an uncolonised system in Dominion space.

"Here?"

Alan considers the image for a moment, then nods. "Looks like it'll do. And we can attack wherever the Dominators have been keeping people in the same way."

"Guess I'd better actually find them then."

But that's simple enough. Finding a Dominator who is interested in humans is impractical. Finding the desire sets normal to humans on the other hand is well within my abilities. Dominators -even Dominator civilians- just don't think in the same way as humans. If by some miracle the Dominion hasn't killed the majority of test subjects by now then I'll-.

There.

"Found them. Feels like a few hundred." I point to a planet on the construct map. "Well worth rescuing. There might be more somewhere else, but I'm hopeful that we can interrogate the staff or their database for more information."

"A few.. hundred?" Jordan's face falls. "But they took-."

"They didn't reach fourth place on my poop list by being nice people. I'll head back and set up the zeta transmitter on Earth. Signal me when you're ready."

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th October 2013
After Receiving The Bad News

"W-?" The human's confidence evaporates at Ratchet's sombre words. "Is there any way to get him out of the Well of All Sparks?"

"If there was, we would have already carried it out. Optimus transferred all of the sparks contained in the Allspark into the Matrix of Leadership in order to protect them from Unicron. Then he-." Ratchet blinks, his optics momentarily unfocusing. "The only way to return the sparks of every Cybertronian who had ever lived was to enter the Well physically."

Arcee glares at him, though not with quite as much passion as she usually summoned up.

"Why do you even care?"

"Quite aside from the fact that Optimus Prime was a good guy and his death leaves a huge leadership vacuum… I just managed to talk Shockwave into standing down."

Wheeljack -who'd rather been ignoring the new arrival once he realised it was someone he wasn't supposed to blow up- suddenly perks up.

"You found Shocker? Let me just go get my-."

"Into standing down, after I convinced him that the only reason he's been fighting this long is because of the mnemosurgery inflicted on him by the Autobot High Council."

Arcee makes a dismissive gesture with her right hand. "You are so full of sludge. No Autobot would-."

Ultra Magnus and Ratchet look slightly awkward.

"Would-." Arcee picks up on their discomfiture. "Ratchet?"

Ratchet inclines his head and takes a deep breath. "Though that sort of treatment wasn't something that Optimus would ever have sanctioned, his predecessor Sentinel Zeta Prime had… A very different attitude."

The human raises his eyebrows. "He organised the caste system which resulted in the enslavement of the majority of your species. He cut off peoples' hands and faces and rearranged their brains for peacefully disagreeing with him. He -more than anyone- was responsible for the war, and, yeah, I see the vehicons you've got around the place-"

One of the vehicons manning a console at the back of the room tries to look like it's not there.

"-but if you want to convince the majority of Decepticons to accept an armistice then you need to stop pretending that there was no fault on the Autobot side at the start of the war."

"If Shockwave wishes to speak with Optimus Prime, that isn't possible. If he wishes to participate in rebuilding Cybertron then we would… Accept him."

"… Okay, good, I assumed that you'd be willing to do that, but he'd also like to reverse the mnemosurgery so he can go back to being the good person he was before the war."

Arcee looks surprised. "Shockwave wants mnemosurgery?"

"He wants his original personality restored to how it was before Sentinel Prime made him what he is today. I thought that-. Since no one still functional knows mnemosurgery, the only thing I could think of that could restore him was… Well, Primus. And since Primus doesn't consciously interact with the physical universe all that much, I was hoping that Optimus Prime could sort something out."

Ratchet nods thoughtfully, his right hand rubbing his chin. "Before the war, Shockwave was an advocate of peaceful reform. And it would be a powerful sign to the surviving Decepticons that we were being truthful about our desire for peace if he was seen working with us."

Ultra Magnus nods. "But we can't do it. Prime's dead, and he took the Matrix of Leadership with him."

"Is there..?" The human looks up at the ceiling, perhaps looking for guidance in the stars. "Is there some way to make a new one? Or otherwise resurrect a dead Cybertronian?"

Ratchet shakes his head. "The first recorded bearer of the Matrix of Leadership is Prima Prime, the first being created by Primus. It may well be that it was created by Primus." He thinks for a moment. "We could.. disarm Shockwave and escort him to the Well of All Sparks. Primus might decide to restore him to his former self."

"None of the original thirteen had any sort of supernatural healing abilities? Or.. any of their artefacts? I know you didn't finish going through your list of relics hidden on Earth."

Ultra Magnus pulls out his hammer, considers it and then looks at Ratchet. "Can we use energon to restore power to the Forge of Solus Prime?"

"The Forge of Solus Prime doesn't run on energon. One of the few things we know about it is that it uses a miniature neutron star as its power source. And we have no idea how to replace it." Ratchet starts pacing. "It might be possible to power it using energon instead, but I also have no idea where to even begin with something like that. The fact of the matter is that many of the relics of the Thirteen are so advanced that they might as well be magic."

The human lowers his gaze to Ratchet, not looking particularly hopeful. "Do any transformers know magic?"

"No. Magic isn't real. There are just technologies too advanced for us to understand."

"Okay. Are there transformers who can reliably use technology you don't understand?"

Ratchet shakes his head again, continuing to pace. "If there are, they could be anywhere in the universe. I can think of only two places where there might be any records we could use, and both of them are out of our reach."

"And those are?"

"The first is Quintessa." The other Autobots wince. "The Quintessons had access to the Matrix of Leadership for hundreds of vorns. I find it unlikely that they wouldn't have studied it, if only to work out how to more effectively maintain their control."

The human shakes his head. "I don't think you're ready for Great War Two."

"I agree. The second is Vector Sigma. It is a database of incalculable value. Unfortunately, during our last attempt to access it, scraplets got in and ate part of the access console."

"Okay, but the database itself should still be there, right? If it's just a matter of repairing the damage I've got Shockwave to work with."

"There is also the matter of accessing it. Only a Prime or someone given access by a Prime can get in. And then whoever was accessing it would have to study the records while avoiding the attention of the surviving scraplets."

"Oh, no, that's easy." Ratchet looks unconvinced. "Just get some human scale glass gas sprayers and send human soldiers in to clear the place out." Ratchet's face falls slightly slack in astonishment. "Scraplets just ignore humans and glass gas only affects metal, so they wouldn't be in any danger."

"That… Is… True…"

"Honestly, using humans to clear this entire planet of scraplets isn't a terrible idea."

"Hey." Bulkhead focuses on the human. "Are you touting for work?"

"I could put together a group of dependable men with military experience willing to work away from home, if the money's right. Or you could just talk to Agent Fowler."

Ratchet nods. "That may well work. Even if it provides no useful information on restoring either Optimus Prime or Shockwave, having access to Vector Sigma's archives would allow us to regain untold amounts of lost information. But we still can't access it.. without…"

He exchanges a look with Arcee, while the human just frowns.

"Without what?"

Arcee shakes her head. "Without 'who'."

17th October 2013
17:13 GMT -7

Jackson Darby nervously regards the Decepticon-affiliated mercenary named Paul.

"I don't think I'm supposed to talk to you."

He turns and glances over his shoulder, to where a holomatter avatar on a bike waves an awkward greeting.

"That would depend on whether you ever want to see Arcee again."

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th October 2013
17:06 GMT -7

The roads of Jasper, Nevada, are familiar, almost comfortable, under her tires. She'd gotten used to it. Gotten used to Earth. When she visited Cybertron with Jack she could just tell herself that it didn't feel like home because it was such a mess, but if that was the case why did this dirt ball with its sun and one moon and Unicron lurking under the surface feel-?

"Arcee-."

"Just sit there and don't talk."

The-. Slipstream's partner, on her saddle.

"Arcee-."

"Sadie."

"We need to talk about one thing before we speak to Mister Darby."

"What is it?"

He takes a deep breath, which she knows is something humans do to draw attention to whatever they're about to say. She can't imagine-.

"In the human society that Mister Darby and I both grew up in, there's no precise age at which a person becomes an adult. Depending on what the subject is, it would generally be considered to be between sixteen and twenty one years old."

"Jack's seventeen."

"Yes. Which means that while I turned Miss Nakadai down flat when she asked about my implants-."

Her wheels lock. The-. The meatcepticon on her back locks his legs around her frame and his arms clasp Sadie's holomatter body as they slide along the road, wobbling from side to side.

"You're not giving Jack implants!"

"S-stabilise first-"

Her wheels unlock, and she manoeuvres to regain stability while slowing down because if he wants an argument she's doing in it robot mode!

"-please! And it's-. You can't tell me to do it or not."

"Oh can't I?"

"But you do need to decide what you're going to say when he asks you if he should get them or not."

"Okay, great. Are you done?"

"A-. Sadie, have you ever.. thought about what this whole thing has done to Jack's life?"

"He was never supposed to find out we were here. We protected the kids the-."

"I'm not criticising what you did. But given how much contact he's had with transformers and cybertronian technology… My guess is that Agent Fowler's superiors are going to want to recruit him. And that he's going to jump at the opportunity, because despite the danger he enjoyed the time he spent with you. And.. that's the only way he might get to see you again. And while Fowler has asked about using the implants to interact with MECH's technology, I… Think we both know which piece of cybertronian technology Jack wants to interface with."

Arcee pulls off the road, coming to a halt and deploying her kickstand.

Because… Yeah.

Cliffjumper was her partner, but they weren't… Pledging eternal friendship when you could die in the next fire fight seemed like it was tempting fate. And anything else-.

But now the war's over. None of Team-. Team Prime, were interested in that sort of ritual. At least, she hadn't noticed any of them showing that sort of interest. Unless Knockout's comment on her power-to-weight ratio was suppose to mean-.

"Why would he ask-?" No, that's stupid. The one human who's openly conjuxing just as hard as he can with a cybertronian, it's obvious why he's talking about it. What he's talking about.

"He'd ask because while he might be an adult for some legal purposes, he's not really sure about how you see your relationship and he's scared of alienating you. It'll probably come out as something like 'so, ah, those implants seem kinda useful. What do you think?'"

"He already said that."

"And what did you say?"

"I don't want to talk about it with you."

"Sadie, I'm trying to help. You can't absorb a lifetime of human culture in one year from three children and two adults. And.. I doubt that you'll want to talk to Slipstream about it."

"It's your fault I'm having to think about this."

His legs unclench from around her frame.

"I didn't have these implants when Slipstream and I started becoming close. They might have sped up the process, but-. Ah… I don't know Jack as well as you do, but I wouldn't assume that he wouldn't have been interested anyway. Of course I.. may have completely misread the situation. I just want to make sure that you have thought about it and that you've decided how you want to handle it."

"How would-?"

Why is she even asking this-?

"There are a few possibilities. You know that Earth is the rock accreted around the body of Unicron. It would make sense for a team to remain on Earth long term to monitor and study him. Since you don't need to be on Cybertron and you know people on Earth, you could volunteer yourself."

"Unicron's dead. His spark was destroyed."

A lie, but she doesn't want it to get around that the Autobots have Unicron's spark trapped in the Allspark's housing.

"That's… Do you know where Unicron came from?"

"No."

"Have you studied him in any detail?"

"No."

"So why are you assuming you got him? Or that you got all of him? And even if you did, it would still make sense to get inside and nuke his joints, or keep tabs on those creatures you found inside him." He sits back on her saddle slightly. "War's over, Arcee. Now you have to work out what you want to do with your life."

She doesn't like it, but he has a point. She was staying on Cybertron in case Knockout tried something, or Starscream or Shockwave or Airachnid came back. So she could fight them, because she doesn't know anything about building or science or leadership or… Not being at war. But if that's not going to happen… What did she even do before the War? Did Cybertron really have any use for Light Exploration Models now? And if it didn't…

"Slipstream mentioned that you used to be pink? Are..? Do you know what happened to Chromia?"

"I haven't heard that she died." She winces slightly at the memory. "When the Decepticons attacked Iacon we weren't exactly overburdened with spare parts. It doesn't take much glass gas to take an Autobot's plating off."

He nods.

"So I… Suppose that everyone's waiting to see who else survived. Getting Shockwave reverted will really help sell the whole 'the War's over' message. It won't be all that long until you know-. Know, one way or the other."

"Yeah."

"Have you decide what you're going to say-?"

She revs her engine, and he takes that as his cue to grip Sadie again.

"I'll think of something."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
11:40 GMT -5

Mister King winces quietly as Miss Linden tries to interface with the 'research' facility's central computer, the mid-level dominators who are on duty in the security office standing and staring into nothing.

"Take as long as you like, Suzi. I can do this all day."

"It's an alien plant, Henry. I control the Green. This is not Green."

"But you can-?"

"There's… More than one. I don't understand their… Their language."

"Black Orchid, now is not the time for bravado. If you can't do it, we move on-."

The mass of plant-computer undulates, small flowers and leaves growing on its exterior surface as Miss Linden breathes a sign of relief. And then wobbles unsteadily on her feet.

"Suzi?"

"I just had to convert my entire magic waveform from Green to… Whatever the hell this is. But it's done, it's working for us."

"Yeah, but-."

"I'll-" She winces, her skin turning from pale green to the grey-blue of the dominator's computer system, thick veins and oddly angular rhytidome appearing as her body adapts to its new alien spirituality. "-cope, just… Give me a minute."

"Not a problem."

Orange construct ropes extrude from my body and connect directly to the red spots on the middle of each dominator's forehead. While I could easily justify killing these people, I'm not exactly sure whether these are soldiers or regular tech support. The small red circles make it clear that they're not decision-makers, and with a member of the Green Lantern Corps watching it's probably best to limit collateral damage.

So long as they haven't directly involved themselves.

Their eyes flash orange as I realign their desires and… Ah, yes, though they do feel loyalty, it's more to the structures of their society than to any particular high caste dominator. Increase their desire to conform to an abstract moral code and make sure that they identify that with us…

"God… Damn." Mister King takes a step back, regarding me with a decidedly impressed air. "Has the Commander been holding out on us?"

"I doubt it. You can release them."

He nods, and the dominators come alert. They don't immediately look all around them as a human would, but instead remain in place, taking in how the part of the world they can perceive is different to what they thought it would be. The one closest to the computer takes in Miss Linden, but after a quick visual review opts to walk past her to take a closer look at the computer itself.

"That should not happen. It is functioning outside of accepted parameters."

"Necessary, I'm afraid."

The other dominators slowly turn to face us, the one with the slightly larger red blot opening his mouth in a sign of agreement.

"I understand. Have you bypassed the Exalted's overrides?"

Mr. King is looking a little better now that he's not having to dominate them. "Have we?"

Miss Linden is still looking decidedly peaky, but manages to nod. "I have an arrangement with every part of its programming. Every connection to every system. Every-."

She doubles over, vomiting hard enough to spray gastric juices across a nearby console! I scan, but I can't find anything in the air or in her body.

Mr. King walks closer-.

"Ohnono. I just-. It just showed me what they've been doing with-."

The lead dominator nod-smiles. "Yes, it is grotesque. I will be glad to take part in stopping it. What do you require?"

"What does this place have in the way of automated defences?"

"Automated bulkheads. That is all. All across the Dominion, we prefer dominators in control of devices where possible. Fixed defence guns are manned, patrols are frequent and carried out by living soldiers and the fleet above us is crewed by dominators."

"Where are the teleportation scramblers?"

"One is in here."

One of the other dominators raises his left hand. "I will deactivate that for you."

"There are two others: one is in the high caste research centre, and the other is in the planetary command centre. If you destroy the first then you will be able to teleport anywhere within the facility. Destroying the global one will remove all impediments."

Zeta radiation wasn't being blocked when we came in, but if they have a way to block it then there's no obvious reason why it would be somewhere else.

"Do they check that your scrambler is active?"

"Yes, but they do so via the computer network. Random checks by sample teleportation are only three times a year."

"Telepath detection systems?"

"That is passive, and integrated into the structure of the facility. You would have to tear the place apart first."

Mr. King grimaces for a moment. "That's going to hurt our coordination."

One of the other dominators reaches into a wall-mounted storage bin and pulls out a handful of headsets.

"If the mutations to the central processor have not deformed it too much, these headsets should allow you to communicate within the facility. If you control the processor, you should be able to instruct it to keep your words secure."

"Thank you."

Those go in subspace, and that's a fascinating example of Dominion technology that I'm going to be passing to Dox when I get home.

"Are all the humans the Dominion has here, or are there some somewhere else?"

The lead dominator clamps his mouth shut. A negative or nullification.

"I do not know. The high caste wouldn't feel it necessary to inform us about that. We are only told about the humans here."

"Why are these ones still alive?"

"Their powers are interesting enough to warrant continuous non-terminal studies. Some… Are still killed each year." His eyes flicker with genuine distress. "You will… Stop this?"

Mr. King nods. "That's why we're here."

"Good. Do so swiftly. Their state distresses me. I will help in any way I can."

I create a zeta tube construct, and Mr. King and I step towards it. Just before we pass through, he stops.

"When this is over, you're planning to go back to your universe, aren't you?"

"Yes, of course."

He nods, glancing back at the dominators. According to my ring, their body language indicates sadness and guilt and they're doing a dominator group hug. "Don't take this the wrong way, but that's probably for the best."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
11:46 GMT -5

"Mission… Complete, I guess."

Mr. King still looks a little unsure about things as we report back to Commander Scott.

"You guess?"

Mr. King shakes it off and draws himself up. "Sorry, sir. Security neutralised. Orchid is remaining behind to keep an eye on things. The security dominators have been… Ah, shown the error of their ways."

"They're dead."

"No, Orange Lantern rearranged their priorities. They're on our side now. Ah. Permanently."

"No, I can change them back when we leave."

Commander Scott frowns faintly. "Why?"

"Do you want to bring them back to Earth? You didn't say we were killing random functionaries, they aren't a threat and we don't want to keep them."

"I-." He glances across the room at Jordan. "Alright." He nods, and turns to the rest of the strike force, who are poring over the maps of the facility. "Form up, ladies and gentlemen! Hit them hard and hit them fast!"

I

move

to the prison's primary landing zone, railguns forming and firing as the dominator guards raise their weapons. The zeta tube construct forms off to my side as their bodies fall and-

Nyaagh! Nyaagh! Nyaagh! Nyaagh!

-the alarm starts to sound. An orange energy pulse from me disintegrates a fixed gun position, and a sonic blast from the newly emerged Victor Stone's gun arm vibrates apart the other gun that's in position to cover us.

A dull yellow force field deploys over the front of the entrance, which is fine as far as we're concerned. This team-.

Skyrocket shoots clear of the zeta tube and dives into the shield envelope!

Um.

It undulates and surges, clearly designed to respond lethally to anyone touching it. Her argo harness shimmers as the energy wave hits, shunting the energy to its buffers and then releasing it-.

The shield surges back, slamming into the exterior of the building and gouging chunks out of the armour as it overloads!

Mr. Stone looks my way for a moment, then shrugs as he advances on the entrance. "Guess we're being an active distraction, then."

Ms. Forrestal falls back as Mr. Rothstein jogs forwards and then accelerates, ramming into the front of the building with a colossal slam! Koriand'r flies into the air and begins launching starbolts at the more alert defence craft, supported a moment later by Mr. Stone and Mr. Tomas. I

move position

to the guard station outside one area of holding pens, orange beams-. Being blocked by their personal force field because they followed protocol when they heard the alarms crumblers and they're dead. Zeta tube and trigger the dominator communicator.

"Orange Lantern to Orchid. We're at the pens."

"Confirmed."

Cybernetically augmented soldiers begin storming out, deploying defensive force field protectors, barricades and heavy guns around the observation area. Through the transparent dome of the panopticon we can see the prisoners, wounded, sedated or just generally out of it. Around the side of the dome other dominator soldiers have a clear view of us though the dome blocks their shots. Though initially confused they begin forming up for an assault.

Then the first of the inhuman cyborgs deploys.

An odd construction that looks a bit like a small space station, its outer bands rotate as it orientates on the closest dominator assault team. Then-.

There there's a.. sort of explosion of blood, and I see that it's already completed a circuit of the chamber, a dull orange force field extending from its angular appendages.

Huh. Well, I can't deny the effectiveness of the thing.

It flashes back around, then hovers in front of the cyborgs' officer.

"I hunger for blood."

"You don't have to worry about that, Deni. Plenty more where that came from."

"More."

It floats upwards, peripheral spines whirring.

Ah, okay.

The platoon commander makes eye contact with me and nods as squads run up to secure the other entrances. "We've got this."

I nod

and enter the holding area

shock crowning a pair of dominator medical technicians who were crouching behind a dividing wall. They clearly were taking part, but from the small red circles on their foreheads I can safely deduce that they weren't the directing minds. If Commander Scott wants to kill them I'm not going to fight it, but I don't feel that it's necessary myself. I open a zeta tube and Dr. Tolon steps out, scimitar and book glowing with blue light. I take a moment to scan and try to catalogue the inmates. Yes, all… Metahumans.

Triumph and the local Power Girl come through next, along with Space Ranger. They'll protect Dr. Tolon from the dominators and if necessary from the prisoners as she heals them, because the dominators took villains as well and we can hardly rely on them to be rational about things.

I frown for a moment as Power Girl sets off my rune stone. I guess this is a parallel where the Atlantean origin is true?

"You set?"

She nods. "We've got this. Go."

I

move

to the fortified entrance to the high caste's section of the base, construct buzz saws slicing through the dominators standing guard on the outside of the fortified doors.

Nyaagh! Nyaagh! Nyaagh! Nyaagh!

I shoot out the alarms as I open the zeta tube, Commander Scott and Interceptor striding out.

"Ready?"

"I've been ready for fifteen years. Interceptor, get that door-."

The light vanishes and everything goes dark.

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
11:50 GMT -5

A moment passes, and my armour's computer tries to augment my vision which is something my rings should be doing.

Ring?

…

Oh dear.

"External. Commander, is your ring dead too?"

Infrared shows me a little bit more than visible light. Interceptor is surprisingly warm, and it looks like she's drawn a sidearm of some sort.

"The Commander's down."

Sonic is… Giving me a vague impression of my surroundings. Mapped onto what I could see before the darkness came it should be enough for me to navigate. But it's still getting interfered with.

"What is this?"

"Pass. Your powers down?"

"Yes. You?"

I try looking into her desire network and nothing happens. The honden-. No, can't feel it. My… No, my awareness of my own desires is still there, so it isn't interfering with my thought processes. I raise my power armour's arms… Yes, they're still working, as is the computer. Legs… Yes. Crumbler effect on the gauntlets?

I take a chunk out of the barricade-.

"What was that?"

"Checking the weapons in my arms."

"What have you got?"

"Matter disrupters in the gauntlets. I can punch things and they die."

"Range?"

"I've got a pistol on the inside of the armour."

"Medical?"

"My purple healing ray is in subspace."

"Shit. The Commander's pulse is weak, his breath is shallow and he's non-responsive. Any ideas?"

"Ah, if he's like my Alan Scott, his body is partially green light. If that's gone then he's probably back to being a normal ninety year old. Either we attack the high caste's bunker and hope this effect is coming from there, or we pull back and try and get out of the effect radius."

Let's… See. Manual armour controls…

"Internal. Open a channel to Blue Lantern."

He's got a multiphasic communicator, but is it working and is he paying attention to-

"Paul? What just happened?"

-it.

"Everything went dark. What does it look like from up there?"

"Like everything went dark. There's like a… A dome over the whole place. Do you need backup?"

"It's blocking superpowers. Local-you's down, don't know about the rest. My armour's still working so hopefully the cyborgs are alright. External. Interceptor, you're in charge?"

"The Heywood Corps are fine, though they can't see any better than we can. According to the map you showed us, there are four guard posts between here and them, and another five between there and the exit. Exfiltrating without powers is impractical."

"Internal. Map."

Uh. Yeah. If they can still aim any of those anti-air guns, my armour isn't tough enough to survive that level of attention.

"The Titans are affected too. They're disengaging, but Cyborg doesn't want to risk grabbing a dominator shuttle in case they get shot down the moment they leave the area being affected."

"External. Right. Are there any metahumans on the list who can do something like this? Eclipso? Shade?"

Because while my ring has adaptive search functions, my armour's database can only use search terms.

"Internal. Search 'shadow', 'darkness' and 'power nullifier'."

"No, none of them were recorded as having a power like this." I think she nods. "We attack. Breach the doors. I've got the Commander."

"External. Will do."

I trigger my armour's flight system and turn on the spot, then fly cautiously towards the doors. After a moment I bump into the force field, but a quick application of crumbler gauntlets fries the emitters with only a little damage to the outer layer of my armour.

"The dominators dropped their guns. Can you use them?"

"Wouldn't they be booby trapped?"

"It's unlikely. Booby trapping your guns gets your own soldiers killed when the enemy works out how to remote activate it."

I reach the doors and thrust my arms forwards, the material resisting only briefly as it gets crumbled.

"This one's not working."

"But they might use a genetic lock. Try coating your hands in their blood."

She moves Commander Scott to the side of the entrance way next to the doorway, then comes back and feels along the ground to try and find-. There she goes, one of the soldiers I cut in half.

"Is this-? Would gastric juices work?"

"I'm working off-" I move my arms to the side, trying to make enough room to move further in. My armour's not designed to be easy to walk around in. "-my knowledge of civilisations with a similar level of advancement, not specific-."

There's a flare of heat as she successfully fires it at the wall.

"Will this go through their armour?"

"If I remember correctly, two shots to the head will reliably disable them. Twice that to the chest if their force field is down, twice that again if it's at maximum."

"Damn it. That sounds weak."

"It's about priorities. Dominators fight for test subjects. And they can't leave their shields on full all the time without draining the batteries."

Ugh, I can't bend enough to get the bottom of the door, and my ringless flight control isn't precise enough. But I've got a big enough hole to step forward.

"No idea what caused this? Because even if the dominators have been researching metahumans, our rings-."

"Todd. It's Todd."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
11:55 GMT -5

"Sir? Who's 'Todd'?"

And yes, I'm through. In the sense that I've made a hole to the other side. It's extremely awkward to reach and I've got more work to do opening it up. Arms apart and try to crumble a cone.. I can.. push out…

"Slabside, the containment wing. After the dominators captured it at the end of the war, they took… Took everyone. Obsidian. One time, he… He put the sun out for a few hours with Eclipso. Normally… Normally we'd execute someone like that, but he… He wasn't in his right mind. Psychologists said he was improving."

"Does he have any weaknesses?"

"Bright light. And his control isn't all that good. He might not be doing this deliberately. Or-."

He coughs and it sounds painful. I remember Alan sounding like that, back when his ring was dead.

I brace myself, deactivate my gauntlets and shove the armoured wall in front of me. Mechanical muscles I just copied and pasted from a data file work as well as specified, making the remaining points of attachments fracture and snap.

"External. I have a hole."

"Yeah, but I can't see anything. Can you?"

A.. bit. I can't see movement, but until I can move around a little sonic isn't going to give me much. Back to work. Gauntlets activate and armour evaporates.

"No one's shot me yet. The hole should be big enough to fly through in a minute."

"You can fly?"

"Not well, but yes."

"We might need you to rush the Commander outside the zone of darkness. Could you-?"

"Not worth it. Didn't bring my lantern. Can't recharge. Prioritise Todd."

"Sir. You heard him, Orange Lantern."

"Okay." I awkwardly walk backwards. "You should be able to climb through now."

"Shouldn't you go first?"

"This is the highest security area in the facility. Reinforcements will be coming here, but the high caste generally don't let their guards inside their chambers." I awkwardly turn around. "You might-"

There's a quiet clunk from the direction of one of the room's doors, and Interceptor's heat signature shows her ducking into cover.

"-get-. Go!""

I shift over into a position to provide better cover as the first shots hit me. No heavy weapons-. Yet, and dominator augmented vision systems aren't quite as effective as what I've built into my armour. Shields are doing alright-.

Interceptor listens out for a moment, then rush-crawls across the floor to Commander Scott. Fire from the dominators slackens off, and I give myself a second to imagine how easy this would be with access to actual combat armour or my subspace arsenal. But why aren't they shooting?

If they can't see me, then-. They're shooting sound. Quick test as Interceptor levers Commander Scott into a fireman's carry. I awkwardly crouch, grab a dominator torso and then toss it to the side.

It lands with a damp thud, then flashes of heat flicker towards it. So they're effectively blind. For a moment I wonder about flying Interceptor and Commander Scott to the ceiling and seeing if the marines will open the way to their masters for us, but she's already going through the hole and I don't think the risk is worth it. Okay, grab a leg and throw-.

Motion sensor wobbles as the dominators throw something. I don't think their regular grenades would do much to my armour, not while I'm behind-.

Ah!

Sonic grenades, meant to shock and confuse. Wait, compare-. They dialled them down. That was nothing like their highest possible output. It blinds me for a moment because I'm using sonics to scan my environment, but-. They might have done the same. Just set their helmet's autosensors to track the returns and share them between the squad's computers to form a complete picture. The correct response would be to move, except that I'm providing cover for my colleagues.

I throw the legs anyway, but this time no one shoots.

Okay, they're not going to have an unlimited supply of sonic grenades, and dominators aren't usually exactly in love with the local high caste. They can only get so many snapshots, and the sonic image is going to show my armour and not much else.

I could get out of the armour, because they won't know whether it was piloted or not.

I swiftly dismiss the idea.

I-.

"Through!"

And that's my cue.

"Internal. Flight."

I spin in the air, turning face down and perpendicular to the floor. As I twist, I grab another body and throw it a little to my left. My flight doesn't make noise, but if they-.

A bright flash of heat, and the fortification to my left fractures.

"External. Aaaagh!"

And then I fly towards the breach in the fortified doorway, arms… I can't do a full Superman pose in this armour; my shoulders aren't that flexible. But as close as I can manage. My armour's computer alerts me to the face that the dominators are continuing to shoot the spot where they 'hit' me as-. Ugh, as I hit the upper part of the tunnel I crumbled, bounce off slightly and get funnelled towards the exit-hole. Did-.

Yes, yes, they heard that. They don't manage to hit me; the angle between the hole, their door and the various fortifications doesn't really allow it unless they advance, and if I could shoot them then advancing would be a foolish thing to do indeed.

Ugh. And with this armour having no head I can't really look up. I can rotate my sensor display, but that-.

Am I… Stuck? Ugh, crumbler gauntlets on, extend arms to the sides, increase flight system power output-. And there we go and stop, rotate, and stand on the floor.

"Interceptor?"

"Ready to move."

"Okay, so two possibilities. Either the high caste have legged it and are sailing away in their escape pods, or they've broken out their experimental weapons and are about to attack us."

"The Heywood Corps has fought off probing attacks, but they're holding out. The Titans are hunkering down by the front entrance. And the Commander isn't doing too great. What kind-. No, I get it."

I check my sonics.

"Looks like the best route is this way. Given the situation, I'm going to move at a jog."

I step-.

AAAAGH!

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
11:59 GMT -5

"INTERNAL ADJUST SHIELDS ADJUST SHIElds oh thank you."

Ah, gah! I think that was a sonic attack, so either someone just hit me with a grenade, or-.

My shield flickers in a way which says that someone just hit it with an electromagnetic pulse. A decent guess, but my shield isn't all that vulnerable to EMP disruption. Sonic sensors… Aren't working. Damaged or wrecked, I don't know. This suit has a self-repair function, but it's not as good as a power ring would be.

Okay, activate flight and shift… I have a partial map of the room from a moment ago. I'll go up and left, away from Interceptor and Commander Scott. I… Don't know where the attack came from, though dominator habits suggests that there's a dominator in the room now and they're carrying some sort of multi-output gun.

Don't know if Interceptor or Commander Scott are still alive.

"Gahkahkakhaak."

Because I never considered creating a Dominion to English translator and adding it to my armour.

"Ak-ak akakh."

I don't even know how their intonation works. The speaker could be pleading for their life, offering a ceasefire or mocking us and I wouldn't be able to tell.

"Kakrkakrak."

There's a flare of heat as probably-Interceptor takes a shot, and I'm still able to see heat but my sonics haven't come back yet which means that I'm stuck floating around until I bump into something.

"Blue Lantern to Orange Lantern."

"Internal. Go ahead."

"Got a small ship flying away from the facility. I need to do something about it?"

"Most probable possibility is that it's some of the high caste dominators. If you can do so safely, detain them."

"Ah…"

"Problem?"

"No, I can do that. I'm just wondering if you're being generous because we're not in our own universe."

"Generous?"

"Or is it just because you don't think I'd be okay with killing them?"

"It's because we haven't confirmed the target yet. If you had that big a problem with killing people who did things like this then you wouldn't be here. Incidentally, Commander Scott has children."

"Well, he did say that he remarried."

"Akh! Akh!"

"Kakh!"

Which is the guy in here talking to the guys outside, neither of whom can see the hole I made. On the other hand, I can't tell where the noise is coming from because my sonic imaging system is down and my armour's default auditory system doesn't precisely transmit direction because it was designed for reliability rather than precision.

"We think one of them is here, being used to create this darkness field."

"Huh."

Okay, so I know roughly where the plug from the doorway is. Dominators are actually slightly weaker than humans, so if I pick it up and plug the hole that might actually give them some trouble. On the other hand, the noise will definitely relay my position. Alternately, I could drift around the room. That's actually a pretty safe option, with a low chance of actually doing anything useful. I could communicate directly with Interceptor's headset-.

"Internal, activate headset-. Ah, quiet. Orange Lantern to Interceptor, that hit messed up my sonic imaging. Do you know where the target is? One beep for yes, two for no."

"Huuh huuh."

Darn it.

Optical searching it is, then.

I change orientation so that I'm facing the floor and plot out a search pattern. If the dominator hasn't shot again I'd.. guess that it's because they don't want to shoot their rescuers.

"I'm hunting them. I suggest moving around the room and trying to find the door they came in through."

"Huuh."

Of course, I'm assuming that the dominator doesn't have a personal flight system. Based on how they usually equip their soldiers, that's not too likely. Dominators use aircraft, not soldiers with jetpacks. But I'm not sure if-.

I see a flicker of yellow.

I swing my right fist, knuckles hitting a yellow energy field, which flares-! Dah! My right fist is-! OwOW!

"Target located!"

Right fist gone, bleeding? Bleeding. In considerable pain!

Dominator looks up as the yellow glow fades, weapon-.

Punch with left hand! Yellow field flickers and dies, but gauntlet smoking. Crumbler non-functional, but power support working fine. Punch.

"KEKH!"

The helmet fractures and the dominator wearing it drops to the floor! "INTERNAL DEACTIVATE FLIGHT!"

I drop-. Fuck, missed, dominator scrambling away! I swing my left fist around anyway, hit something-

"KEHK!"

"ACTIVATE FLIGHT!"

-and float towards the sound of the squawking! Flares of heat-. Armour fine. SLAP SLAP!

"KEHKK!"

"Upri-!"

AAAGH!

SOMETHING-! HIT MY HAND-STUMP!

"Upright!"

Dominator shredded leg gun knock it aside-!

PSHOOM!

Right shoulder armour melted head armour melted dominator lost hold of gun punch!

"Kk-!"

Dominator armour damaged but dominator alive. Flares of heat-. Error messages, armour internal systems being damag-ged!

Punch again!

No, won't move! Side arm side arm emergency release-. Jammed. Can't-.

Grey shape Interceptor, grabs dominator leg? Blood. Covers hands. Points dominator gun towards source of shots.

Fires.

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
After

PSHOOM!

"K-!"

PSHOOM! PSHOOM!

Interceptor drops gun, kicks them in the head. Eyes close, screaming stops.

"Lantern, you alive?"

"Ex-external. Yes. In pain. Injured."

"Life-threatening?"

"Probably not. Can't tell. Destroy the power suppressor and-. Andandand I'll be fine."

"Can you get out?"

"Mechanism's jammed, and I've lost power. If you can point me at the hole and- Stick the gun in my hands-. Hand, I can do rearguard duty. Otherwise, I'll just play dead."

"Hand?"

"The left one. Right's gone. Wound partially cauterised. Hope the ring's still there. Blue Lantern reports that other high caste have pulled out."

"I'll make this quick."

Gone.

Ow.

Take stock. Legs… Fine. Left arm some pain. Probably mild burn. Torso feels fine, but…

Ugh.

Fuzzy. Concussion? Blood loss? Shock?

Try moving again.

Oxygen shortage? Environmental purifier is… Left chest. Think fine, but brain impaired.

"K-k."

Dominator eyes open, twitching. Hand opening and closing. Stunned.

"K-k to you, too."

Dark going? Shadows-.

Wholeness Rightly Assumed.

Ah…

The shadows recede, my armour knits itself back together, and after a moment I take a distinct pleasure in flexing my fully functional right hand.

"Ah, div-work."

The dominator soldier sticking its head through the.. inelegant hole I made in the bulkhead just sort of sags in place as it sees me come upright.

"No, it's okay, we're allowed to accept the surrender of unarmed military personnel. All you have to do is drop your gun and grenades."

"And… The Exalted?"

An orange thread connects me to the stunned dominator's forehead, and reduces the size of the red circle.

"What Exalted?"

"I will take that."

He pulls himself through the hole, holding his gun by the power pack. He then steps aside from the hole and sets the gun down on the ground. Next, he unbuckles his grenade belt and puts it down next to the gun before straightening back up.

"Thank you. Orange Lantern to prison team. Do you need assistance?"

"Captain Henderson responding. Got injuries but nothing critical. We were holding them off, then the lights came on and Power Girl wrecked the sorry bastards. We're back to prepping the captives now."

"Good work. Continue with the mission."

I create a replacement layer of armour over the hole, move the dominator soldier's gun and grenades into subspace and take a look at the high caste who took a shot at me. No sense making someone suffer. Ring, repair the circulatory system but leave the bones broken.

Compliance.

And deal with the concussion.

The dominator's eyes widen for a moment, but stay staring ahead. Then their head snaps to me.

"The Guardians would not attack us. You do not work for the Guardians. We have had dealings with Qward."

"You have one chance to answer fully and accurately before I modify your mental network to be more compliant. Were you involved on the attack on Earth, where the test subjects came from?"

The dominator's mental networks aren't anything particularly strange. Strange to me at least. Having seen psion and Weaponer and Sivana thought processes it's almost old hat. Memories flicker as they're triggered. No. This one is too young.

"No."

"Have you worked on the subjects?"

"Not directly. I have been using data gathered from the experiments in my own work. I am not a biologics specialist."

Looks true, though it's pretty clear that this dominator-. That she didn't hold off for moral reasons or anything silly like that.

"Did you turn on the power nullifier?"

"Yes. I designed it to fulfil this purpose. The test was surprisingly successful."

I see-. Obsidian was… Connected to the Shadowlands, and she managed to manipulate the connection. Made him the core of a machine. Having her alive would-.

Two red beams lance through the dominator's head, incinerating it.

I turn towards Interceptor. "What was that in aid of?"

"That was a dominator scientist. They're on the target list."

"That was the one who turned Todd Rice into what he is now. We could have gotten useful information from her. Loot, then burn."

Interceptor exhales sharply in frustration, but nods.

"Commander Scott?"

"I'm fine." He walks back in, green light flowing around his body as he floats the whole machine through with him. "And don't worry, Interceptor. I wouldn't trust anything we got out of her brain anyway. Commander Scott to everyone. Get ready to pull out."

 

[Mr Zoat]

25th October 2013
08:21 GMT -7

The squad in carbon fibre/ceramic armoured space suits spread out, spray guns at the ready. Behind them, their employer and a young American make their way slowly towards the centre of the room. The older man's armour is the same purple and grey colour as his soldiers' armour, while that worn by the adolescent is blue with the emblem of a stern red face on it.

"Do you like the armour?"

"It's.. okay."

"I'd have thought that you'd be happier to be back here, Jackson Prime."

"No! No, I totally am, I just-." He sighs the long suffering sign of a teenager who finds themselves at odds with the world. "I did some stupid things before they all left, and Arcee's only said a couple of words to me since we got here. What if she's still angry with me?"

"She's not. You know they're all disturbed by my implants."

"Ah, yeah?"

"Right before I spoke to you, I'd had a big talk with Arcee about how she felt-"

Jack suddenly gives Paul his full attention, turning away from the giant alien computer technology. Then immediately he tries to look like he didn't.

"-and as far as I can tell, coming from a species that doesn't reproduce sexually and has known nothing but war for millions of years doesn't actually result in you having particularly good social skills."

"Ah-? 'Millions'?"

"Oh yeah, she's a bit older than you. Apparently there's an Autobot team out there somewhere that have alt-modes based on dinosaurs."

"Found them, sir!"

Paul turns in the direction of the shout, looking over to where his men at arms have discovered a cluster of recumbent scraplets hiding under a peeled-back deck plate. "Good work, chaps! Advit, spray them down, but try not to get too much anywhere else."

The indicated squad leader nods and motions two of his men forwards. He'd been a sergeant in the Indian army until a shrapnel wound taken in Kashmir damaged the nerves in his legs too badly to continue. Now he was walking around on his own legs with nothing worse than a slightly odd feeling when the wires replacing the damaged nerves pulled awkwardly under his skin. In his opinion, the discomfort was well worth it, though he had firmly decided that he wouldn't ever choose the option a couple of the formerly paraplegic soldiers had and have his legs replaced with purely mechanical legs that wouldn't have the same problem.

The weird metal balls with mouths don't even stir as the gas sprayers turn them into glass statues. He waves Raghav and Kiaan forward to pull them out of the way so that they can check behind them. If the damned things act like normal insects they'll be crammed into the crevice as far as they can get. The other squad were already rappelling down the sides of the alien's metal bridge to spray anything lurking on the underside. He'd looked down when they walked across and he hadn't been able to see the bottom.

Their boss watches them rappel down and nods in satisfaction. While he was confident in the plan, it was always nice to see it work in practice as well as theory.

"I didn't know she was millions of years old."

"Does it change anything?"

"I knew she was older than me, I just thought…" He slumps slightly. "I don't know what I thought."

"If it helps, I don't know that she is millions of years old. Thinking about it, I've never heard her specifically mention a time before the war. Slipstream is millions of years old and we get on fine."

He looks the system over and then waves Jack forward. For some reason, the Thirteen designed their great database to be accessed by sliding what would for them be a tiny key into a slot in the floor, which would open the database and cause the keyhole to flip out of the floor to their chest height. The database would then load whatever the key was set to retrieve onto it and then shut down. Of course, if you didn't exactly know what you wanted or if it wasn't something that would mess around with a Prime's spark, things were a little simpler.

In theory.

Jack walks forward, wincing slightly as his eyes pick out the bite marks inflicted by the scraplets he fought off last time he was here. At the time, he thought of getting the data Optimus needed and tricking the scraplets into following the insecticon off the bridge as his proudest moment. He still did, actually, but the fact that he'd never come close to equalling it, and… Probably only got to do it in the first place because he wasn't going inside Unicron, made him feel like it…

It wasn't the proof that he was a part of Team Prime that he thought it was at the time. It wasn't the proof that he could be Arcee's partner that he wanted it to be.

He slides the key into the slot and then backs away as the access point starts glowing. Okay, clear damage there and there, but it looks like it has some sort of auto-repair system. The strange upright section that served as the download point pulled itself upright to a height convenient for an Autobot. Behind it, a metal iris opens in the ground and geometric holograms of brilliant blue and white light spring out of it.

Paul looks around cautiously, making sure that no surviving scraplets have decided to eat this sacred relic now that's it's been reactivated. When none appear, he activates his armour's gravity impeller and jumps, flying-.

He laughs inwardly. Or as Slipstream would put it 'falling with style' in an arc and landing on the crenulation just above the attachment point.

"Coming up?"

Jack checks his surroundings for obstacles and then triggers his own thruster, arcing upwards and managing to land directly on the download point.

"Can you see where you have to plug it in?"

Can he? It's not exactly obvious, and cybertron technology was designed for people a whole lot bigger than-.

"Heh!"

He looks up at Paul. "What?"

"I just realised. Alpha Trion, the transformer who sent all those archive pods to Earth, was chief archivist of Iacon, right?" Jack nods. "And he was Orion Pax's boss. We're below Kaon, on the other side of the planet from Iacon. Bosses don't fetch and carry for themselves. Which means that whenever he needed something from what is basically Primus's own memory banks, he'd have sent Orion. And Orion would have driven half way around the planet, snuck into Kaon because the location of the entrance is supposed to be a secret, dealt with this stupid interface it has instead of a normal console, then snuck out again and driven back halfway around the planet back to Iacon."

Jack frowns. That sounds like something his manager at KO Burger might do. It felt.. weird to think of Optimus Prime being in the same position.

And kinda funny.

"You found it yet?"

Ah-? "Yeah!" He reaches onto his harness and pulls out the first cable. It's big enough that it's awkward to manipulate with one hand, and Shockwave said that was as small as it could be made and still work. Slot it in there, and the second one goes there…

"They're in!"

Paul activates his radio. "We're plugged in. Shockwave?"

The lights behind the access point flicker and spin, going out for a moment before forming a face.

Jack stares at it, then glances down at the autobot symbol on his chest armour.

"Who's that?"

"The Last Autobot. I'd forgotten-."

Paul shakes his head.

"Yes, that would work. Shockwave, can you find out where he is?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
15:02 GMT -5

I watch out of the window of the secure detainment facility's office as a woman is embraced by her tearful family after a fifteen year absence. Parents and sisters, in this case, people who had long since assumed that they'd never see her again. She has a relatively minor superhuman pyromantic ability that resulted in her getting abducted by the dominators when their snatch squads went through the local version of Gotham. She's not being let go yet; unlike most of the people we recovered she isn't being kept for fear that she'll return to a life of crime but rather because she hasn't finished going through 'decontamination' yet. That will involve checking her for implants, mind control effects and genetic alterations, as well as providing her with therapy and…

And working out how to integrate people back into society after a fifteen year gap.

"What do you plan to do with the former prisoners?"

"Depends on what they were in prison for." Commander Scott is looking like his old self, though I've noticed that he's occasionally touching his ring in a way that he wasn't before. "Everyone who's served their sentence is being treated like a civilian. Everyone who was sentenced to more than fifteen years… I think a little leniency is in order, if they get with the program."

I nod.

"And Mister Rice?"

Interceptor snorts. "We should leave him as he is."

Commander Scott doesn't show any particular emotion. I give him a moment to respond, but… Nothing. Alright then.

"Might I ask 'why'?"

"Do you know what the cure rate for schizophrenia is?"

"As far as I know, it doesn't get cured. Sufferers learn to cope with it, usually assisted by counselling and psychoactive drugs."

"Yeah. Because schizophrenia is the result of the human brain not making the right levels of neurotransmitters. It's not something you can fix with injections. You can't even reliably suppress it with drug injections, just reduce the impact. We've managed to properly cure a handful of people using cybernetics-."

"That's great! Can I-? Would you mind giving me a copy of your records before we leave?"

Interceptor frowns. "We had to take their brains out of their skulls and wire them into a pharmacy. It's a functional solution, but it's not exactly something you can apply to a whole population."

"It's still an option, and it's better than nothing."

Commander Scott nods. "We can share medical technology if you don't mind reciprocating."

"Right, you don't have purple healing rays, do you."

I take one of my spares out of subspace and deposit on the meeting table, along with full documentation.

"We're still doing testing prior to mass implementation, but there haven't been any problems so far."

Commander Scott looks at it for a moment. "That's very kind of you. What does it 'heal'?"

"Any organic damage. It won't completely regrow missing parts, but anything short of that will knit back together."

Interceptor's posture relaxes slightly, though she still has a stern expression.

"My point is that we can't cure his schizophrenia. Given how his physiology works, we can't use cybernetics, and give how powerful he is, we can't risk depending on drugs or therapy. It makes more sense to use him as a perfect power suppressor system at the new Slab than it does to try turning him back."

Whaw.

I agree with everything she just said, but completely disagree with her conclusion.

There are magic means to treat mental illnesses, though none of them are reliable either. Given the risk he poses and the crimes he's already committed, it isn't right to risk the lives of everyone on the planet by letting him out. And he is more reliably contained at the moment than the JSI could do with the resources at their disposal.

"Still, I think it's worth the risk. The dominators will have backups of their research, and right now he's the only superhuman that you know it won't effect." I look towards Commander Scott. "You said that his reports said he was getting better. Does he present a threat?"

"He didn't, before he was a prisoner of the Dominion for fifteen years."

"But you're talking about turning a person into an accessory. We had that in my parallel, when someone turned a telepath called Doctor Cizko into an intelligence suppressing machine. It doesn't inspire confidence in people. There's a difference between 'this person is a clear and present danger' and 'this person's brain is a useful paperweight'."

Interceptor shrugs. "Then we don't tell people. It's not like most people bother finding out what our actual rules of engagement are. If we turn up with a new power suppressor, no one's going to think anything of it."

I blink.

"This is what I sound like to other people, isn't it?"

"Yeah mate." John Constantine plops himself down in the chair next to me. "It is."

Interceptor blinks. "How did-?"

"Wizard. Amazing where I can get, especially when people are all looking the other way. And I've been getting all sorts of places. Listening. Learning." He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a smooth black stone. "Know what this is?"

"The Blackrock." Commander Scott generates construct manacles and tries to clamp them around John, only for the construct to decay into static before it reaches him. "Don't even think about using that."

"Using it? No. Not my style. But it's a dead useful tool. Did you know that it records every single electromagnetic transmission on Earth? Has done ever since Silverstone created it."

John leans forward, resting his chin on his hands.

"Funny how different the version of your chat with the dominators it recorded was compared to the version that got released to the public. You want to explain that, Commander?"

Commander Scott's eyes narrow slightly.

"I don't know what you think you've found out from the tool of a well known supervillain, but if you think it's important then you might as well tell us."

John lifts his head off his hands, and glares at Commander Scott with genuine anger in his eyes.

"You sold them out. The Slab, Basement One Oh One, all those other places I never heard of until I heard you tell them about them. Every JSI-run prison, you handed the lot off to the Dominion."

Interceptor huffs. "We don't keep the locations of our prisons secret, Wizard. The dominators were in orbit. I'm sure they could work out what was in the buildings with 'JSI PRISON KEEP OUT' written on the side on their own."

"Bloody convenient if they could. Because there was an investigation going on, wasn't there. After a few too many prisoners in for minor offences got their brains mangled by your suppression system."

Commander Scott glares back. "That's enough."

"Which got shut down right afterwards. Investigating the people keeping the world safe at a time like that? Just not done. Plus all the evidence was on the other side of the galaxy. Do any of the ones we got back know, or is Brainwave going to give them a once-over first?"

"No. We handed them over because it was best for Earth."

Interceptor's face falls, and she looks at Commander Scott in horror.

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st November 2012
15:06 GMT -5

"Oh, don't look at me like that. You were just trying to convince me to use a man as a power suppression device." His eyes flick to me for a moment before returning to Interceptor. "Todd Rice is my natural son, by the way, though I've got no idea how Orange Lantern found out about that."

"Your-?"

"Apparently, Rose kept it together long enough to give birth and hand them over to an orphanage. The tabloid stories about Jade being my daughter are true, though I was married to her mother at the time."

"I'm-. Sorry-."

"What for? You had a sound proposal. On balance, I think that Orange Lantern is in the right, because we want mentally ill people with superpowers to seek treatment rather than worry we're going to unperson them, but your argument had merit."

John leans back in his chair, slowly blowing air out of his pursed lips.

"At least you're consistent."

"It helps. We were going to release that information in a few years anyway. Honestly, I never thought that we were going to get anyone back."

"Why..? Were you going to tell people, then?"

"I -and the other members of the JSI executive board- think that honesty is the best policy. Whatever we did, it would come out eventually. With this… Last case put to bed, the plan is for us to retire and pass the whole organisation over to the next generation. A few years for them to get the hang of it, then we could make a public confession without harming the organization too much."

Interceptor blinks. "You were-? All-?"

"Handing a group of people -even supervillains- over to alien invaders isn't something any one of us would do without the agreement of the others. I hated it, and I hated them-."

"That's why you weren't annoyed that Interceptor killed the one I captured. She would have known-."

"Oh please." He shakes his head. "If she knew, it probably wouldn't have occurred to her to tell anyone, and she wouldn't have had any contact with anyone who would believe her word over mine. I wanted her dead because I know she'd have done exactly the same thing as the others given the chance, and probably has done it to other worlds."

"Why?" Interceptor looks lost as she shakes her head. "Was the situation really bad enough-?"

"Yes. They had orbital supremacy. We lost good people trying to lift nukes to their ships, which was the only way we had to even try to attack them. The only reason they didn't wipe us out was because they wanted us as test subjects more than they wanted to conquer Earth. So we offered them every murderous criminal we had if they would leave. And they did. And we finally got the governmental support we needed to get strong enough to stop the next invasion. It was worth it."

John honestly seems a little amused. "And how was your crime rate after all that?"

"Much lower. Fewer thefts, fewer murders. Fewer lives being destroyed. People finally understood that supervillainy wasn't just a bit of fun. Some very unpleasant people died in Dominion prisons and I can't say I'm all that sad about it."

"I assume that's a discussion you've had with Missus Scott."

"Molly paid her debt to society before I married her. She knew how I felt about the way she was living when she was Harlequin."

Interceptor blinks, clearly stunned by what she's hearing.

"I… Don't know-."

"I know this is a shock, Interceptor, but I'm sure once you reason it through you'll see we're right. It's best for everyone this way."

John raises his left eyebrow. "Except the ones who died in the Dominion."

"I'm not going to waste my time on the total monsters, and most of the rest had family who are still alive today because they're not. When you're in a job like this, you can't-."

"If you're in charge, and you know something is necessary to do something good, and you refuse to do it, that's just… Just squeamishness."

"No, it's… Normal morals that don't fit the situation. Normal morals are there to guide you through individual interactions. They don't work when you try applying them to a population of billions. I'd worry about someone who could make this sort of decision and not be troubled at all, but at the end of the day, if you can't say 'exitus ācta probat' then you're in the wrong job."

I hate this conversation. And from the looks John's giving me, I've got a sneaky suspicion that I know what this whole thing was in aid of.

I mean… I agree, though I'm really uncomfortable hearing it from an Alan's mouth. But no one spoke against it? I make a point of surrounding myself with people who disagree with me for a reason. I want them to find a better way to do things. I give them opportunities to do that. Because I generally wouldn't mind being wrong.

It's not my fault if they don't have any better ideas. Or they just stick their fingers in their ears and hum loudly and hope it will go away.

I just-.

I-.

"So-. So what now?"

"Interceptor, good work. Take a week off to think things over. After that, we're going to make you the face of the successful counterattack."

"You're.. going to promote me?"

He nods. "Of course. Between your success rate and practicality, you're an obvious choice. As for our parallel universe friends… Well, that's up to the two of you. I'm gone in a few years anyway. You can release what you know, which might damage the JSI or might -let's not kid ourselves here- be met with casual indifference. Or you can keep it to yourselves. I don't know exactly how powerful a wizard you are, Mister Constantine, but I know very well the kind of collateral damage that happens when people in my weight class fight and I don't think this is worth fighting you over."

And John looks at me again.

What?

Is this-? Is he thinking about when the Justice League refused to arrest me over killing Nabu and making the whole thing public?

That wasn't-.

I don't disagree with-.

I can't.. make a decision that will affect an entire world without knowing far more about it than I.. do. You've got the fucking Blackrock, you decide!

…

"I see no particular advantage in releasing the information early, though, John, if you want to, go right ahead. Where are we on getting home?"

"Oh, I think Sivana will spot something went wrong in a little while. Shouldn't have a problem next time." He stands, sliding the Blackrock into his coat pocket as he does so. "Green Arrow and Black Canary have been keeping themselves busy too. Think I'll have a bit of a wander before we leave."

A red crack appears in the air behind him, and he turns and ambles through, closing it behind him.

Commander Scott turns to me.

"What do you think he'll do?"

"My guess is nothing. I suspect this is about self-awareness or something." I raise my right hand to my forehead. "Interceptor, good luck with the new job. Commander Scott, good luck with the trial. I.. feel a sudden need to engage in uncomplicated good works. Goodbye."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd November 2012
16:13 GMT -5

It's hard to.. picture a million anything.

I remember Cabin Pressure, a comedy on BBC Radio 4, where a pilot challenges a flight attendant to even picture a hundred of anything. He actually manages it, by mentally putting a series of small objects on various parts of the plane that existed in a known quantity. The attendant was the fool of the piece, and it was the only time I remember him doing something clever.

But a million? Without my rings I couldn't even hold a million blades of grass in my head. After the first few dozen it's just a sheet of green.

And now I'm looking down at a million graves I just dug.

Green Lantern Holt has been extremely sensible in his priorities. Food, water, basic sanitation. Stabilise one area and then move on. Everything else is just too broken down to do much about, even with the aid of the few remaining functional superheroes.

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."

Emergency cremations were the order of the day for the dead in the cities, but whole areas of the countryside are still filled with rotting corpses.

A grim business, but I wouldn't wish it on anyone else, and the last thing this place needs is a disease epidemic on top of everything else.

We lost more than a million to the Sheeda, of course. But the bodies were mostly rendered down. I didn't have to personally inter all of them.

But what can I even say? Not only did I not know any of these people, I don't know anything about them. In some cases I don't even know their names, and it's pretty hard to hide something like that from a power ring. I certainly don't know personal information.

"Surprised you're trying to do an oration. Their souls have moved on months ago, even after something like this."

"Just in case. And.. because it's right."

John standing there nonchalantly while other people do the work is a fairly common occurrence. The difference now is that he does it in the air, and the wind doesn't affect his cigarette.

"So."

"So." He nods. "You're not particularly pleased with me, I'm guessing. Had to be done, though."

"I wouldn't go that far. But I.. do appreciate that the wake-up call was… Useful. And probably timely."

"Blimey." He raises his eyebrows in mock surprise. "People don't usually take it this well when I pull stuff like this."

"I'm too dangerous to reject good advice because my feelings are hurt. I will admit that I'm a little surprised that you're back to Constantining this quickly."

"Messing with my mates' heads is what I'm good at. And let's not forget that you haven't exactly been easy on mine, either."

"I'd say 'you volunteered' and 'it was necessary', but that's… Missing the point. Is what I'm assuming I'm supposed to take away from this."

"Honestly, could have gone either way."

"What, I could have decided 'this is great'?" He nods. "They didn't even give me their SOP bible."

John looks confused for a moment. "Never heard of a bible called-."

"Standard Operating Procedure bible. It's a set of defined processes any organisation should have written down so people can look up what they're supposed to be doing and how. I… Had been intending to go through it and see how much could be used for the Justice League. Which I can't do now and I'm not sure I'd even want to."

"Probably for the best."

"Any other moral lessons you're planning on springing on me?"

"Not right now. See how you go."

"How was The Kingdom of Albion?"

"Morgana's got everything she ever wanted. Far as I could tell, she's doing an alright job. Place is probably doomed, though."

"Why, did she marry their you?"

"No, but she used one of me ancestors to father her daughter. The first Constantine, far as I could tell."

"That would be… Kon-Sten-Tyn? Didn't he sacrifice his sons for power?"

"Just the ones with goddess blood in them. He had plenty of others, and daughters too. And how the fuck do you know about him?"

"Would you believe me if I told you that Jason Blood mentioned him?"

"No. Not when you put it like that."

I check no one else is around.

"I read about it in a comic book. He was talking about his life with Merlin's severed head."

John frowns in puzzlement. "How does that work, then?"

"The head? Magic, presumably?"

"You told me you came from a comic."

I shake my head. "No I didn't. I came to a comic. Which is here."

He blinks, then appears to brush it off. "You could have been a bit clearer about that. I thought you meant you came from a comic."

"John, that's daft. How would that even work?"

We hold each others gaze for about three seconds.

"Hahahahaha!" / "Hahahahaha!"

John bows his head, still chuckling. I wipe away my tears. Darn. That's-. That's totally inappropriate.

"Alright, let's-. Can you make sure that they've all passed on as peacefully as possible?"

"Yeah, mate. I'll-."

There's a grey flash, and then Interceptor is floating next to us. She looks at me, then John, then the rows of graves beneath us.

"I thought you were on holiday."

"I felt a sudden need to engage in uncomplicated good works. Finding.. that out…"

"Yeah."

"What happened here?"

"A kryptonian got possessed by a demon and destroyed civilisation. So-" I take a spell eater out of subspace and toss it to her. "-just in case."

"Thanks. You've been here before?"

"I was part of the group that stopped him. Of course, that doesn't undo the damage. Come on. Let's go check in with Lantern Holt and see where he wants us next."

 

[Mr Zoat]

25th October 2013
11:57 GMT -7

A convoy of brightly-coloured intelligent vehicles drives at speed down through Cybertron's lower levels. Though Cybertron is gradually restoring itself the process hasn't penetrated deeply yet, and in several places they're forced to transform and climb, or use their weapons to make a passageway. The damage here is… Sporadic, when compared to the surface. Individual locations that were heavily fought over are just as crashed as anything that could be found in the streets in the cities above at the end of the War for Cybertron, but in other places the machinery is entirely pristine. You could stand there and imagine that the war had never happened.

But for the silence.

The red car at the back of the formation wishes there was more silence. Because he's hearing things from the organics sitting on his formerly pristine leather seats that are filling his cognition circuits with all kinds of disturbing images.

"Jack… Okay, look. Clearly this is a conversation you need to have with someone. Your father's not around any more, you don't have any uncles and Optimus Prime's dead, so it's either me or Agent Fowler. I've got more experience, but you actually like him, so it's up-."

"Hey, w-? What?!"

"Your relationship with Arcee. What you want out of it. What you want your relationship to be. Teenagers need an adult to kick them up the 'aft' occasionally, so here I am."

"I just-. I wanna be her partner, you know?"

"Yes, of all the humans in the universe, I do know. But I think you've got the wrong idea about how that works."

The red car notes -then tries to stop noticing, because organics, urgh- that Jack appears to calm down slightly.

"What d'you mean?"

"They're giant robots. We're tiny meatbags. We're never going to be able to fight like they do. Hoping that you can contribute in that way is ridiculous."

"Miko got to fight like they do."

"With the Apex Armour?" A sullen nod and a red velocitronian trying to wish he hadn't watched enough human entertainment transmissions to recognise that. "There's one in the universe and they don't know how to make any more. And even if you used it, you don't have a million years' worth of experience in warfare to draw on when using it."

"But that's..! That's what Arcee does."

"Have you ever talked to her about anything else?"

"Ah…" Jack blinks, his eyes moving to stare at the walls as he tries to-.

Around them, Knock Out discovers that he can roll his eyes in vehicle form. Oh, if he's going to be forced to watch this then he might as well watch it.

As Jack tries to remember if he ever talked to his sidecar about her life.

"I mean, she… Told me about Tailgate and Cliffjumper. But when she talked about Cybertron it was mostly about how the Decepticons wrecked it. The only things we really talked about that didn't have anything to do with the war was stuff about me."

"Yes, Slipstream was like that when we first met. Transformers have been fighting for a very long time, and sometimes that means they get tunnel vision. They forget that there are other things they can do. She probably finds your life fascinating because it's been so long since she came into contact with anything outside fighting."

"Huh. But I… Should ask her about other things, right?"

"Yes. She's not going to learn how to do things other than fighting from a bunch of other transformer soldiers. Honestly, that's probably the best thing you can do for her."

"I can… I can do that. Is that how it worked with you and Slipstream?"

"Basically. She wanted to search for Decepticon transmissions, I asked why, she explained the war, and she couldn't explain why she wanted to start fighting again." Paul looks at Jack for a moment. "So are you committing to a romantic relationship, or are you trying to be a good friend?"

"I wanna be a good friend. But… How would that-? Uh." Fuel tubes in the human's face dilate, causing it to redden. "How..? I mean..."

"Are you trying to ask how the sex works?"

"…"

"Don't worry, I can just about remember being your age. The first thing you have to remember is that transformers don't reproduce like we do. And most of them don't know how that works."

Knock Out knows how it works. Knock Out is painfully aware of how it works. Humans, combiner pistons aren't that interesting. They don't need to take up 4% of your entire noosphere.

"So you just… Don't? But your implants, you said-?"

"My implants allow us to plug our minds into each other. Transformers are aliens with a very different mental setup to us. When she flies, it's-. I can feel it like she feels it, the motion of air over her wings, her tracking obstacles and targets and I'm aware of it all in the same way that she's aware of it. It's incredible, really. I've flown in planes before but it doesn't compare at all."

He's been in her cockpit feeling her fly? Oh this is just filth. Horrible, appealing filth.

"And in return… You know that transformers live off energon?" Jack nods. "They've always lived off energon. But for a human, that would be like eating by injecting fresh blood into your arteries. They have almost no sense of taste, and what they have doesn't have the same emotional component that human eating does."

Jack nods. "But when she's plugged into you, she can taste what you taste?"

"Sort of. It's more that her cognitive systems try to mirror the structures in my brain, but… Yes. It's a form of pleasure that she's never experienced before. To start with she found it disturbing, but now she's.. really into it."

"Huh. I could… I mean, it's not the same as…" Jack shifts awkwardly on his seat. "So..? You..? Can't..?"

"Can't have sex?" Jack winces, but awkwardly nods. "Not exactly. She doesn't have the parts, because transformers don't reproduce like that. There's some things you can't do with a giant robot. But since I do have the parts, and our bond lets her feel what I feel, and since even though she's a lot bigger than me her proprioception is extremely good, we… Make do."

"P-proprioception?"

"Her sense of her own body's movement and position. To be blunt, when she touches my erogenous zones it feels like she's touching parts of her body she doesn't have, and she experiences the same pleasure that I do."

"… Oh."

"Though we have been trying to get data on improved avatars and cyber-organic interface technologies, so who knows what the future might bring."

He was going to spray-wash his seats. No, no, not even that. Take them out, throw them in a plasma pyre and get some replacements built by a hermetic priest of Quintus Prime in the vague hope that would make him feel clean again and why couldn't he deactivate his auditory pickups?

Oh. Because this is the most interesting conversation he's overheard since that thing with Swindle and Trickdiamond.

In a flash of disquieting insight Knock Out understands what Paul is talking about regarding Cybertronians having narrow horizons.

"So have you made a decision?"

"I'm, um…" Jack coughs awkwardly. "I… I think I'll… I'll talk to her about it."

"No, too vague. What is your intent?"

"I-. I wanna-." Jack closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. "I wanna date her. I want to be with her."

Paul smiles. "Good choice! I assume that you're going to want the implants?"

"Ye-. I mean, not right now, but… If she says yes…"

"I'll talk to my chirurgeon. It's probably best to wait until you finish growing, anyway."

"Do you think she'll..? Say 'yes'?"

"If she was going to say 'no', she'd have done it the moment she found out about me and Slipstream. You just need to work out how to talk her into trying it."

 

[Mr Zoat]

25th October 2013
13:43 GMT -7

"So what did you do before the war?"

Knock Out glances down at the human standing near his feet. Ratchet was overseeing the process of pumping energon into the mechanisms around the 'Last Autobot', and there wasn't anything for him to do. Slipstream was back on the surface since bringing a Seeker down these corridors would be ridiculous and Jack was needed to act as a living authentication system.

"Why do you want to know?" He smiles sarcastically. "Planning on adding me to your transformer harem?"

"Harem?"

"I know you've only got one so far, but I suppose you have to start somewhere. And I am a fine piece of machinery."

"No. You said 'harem'. A transformer would usually say 'team' or 'squad'." Scrap. "Transformers don't have a concept of a harem because-."

"Yeees, we don't reproduce like that. I've been on Earth long enough to learn English. Don't read too much into it."

The human looks up at his f-. He's not considering it, is he? Best… Head that off.

"I was an engineer. I came to Cybertron from Velocitron with a magna-wrench in my hand and a dream in my brain module. I wanted to make my business the number one place for bodywork and performance-enhancing tune-ups in all of Cybertron." The irritation he used to feel about what actually happened is still there, though the vorns have left it somewhat muted. "What actually happened is that I got stuck in Uraya doing fuel system rebuilds for idiots who didn't watch their fuel additive intake. Between rationing and the start of the uprising there wasn't much demand for anything else."

"So how did you end up with the Decepticons?"

"They were the best clients. Sure, they weren't interested in speed, but they were more willing to be… Experimental with their upgrades. I started working in the underground gladiator circuits, fell into medicine for the extra energon, and…Joining the Decepticons just felt like a natural move."

"No great ideological commitment?"

"Heh, you've come to the wrong 'con if you're looking for that. No, it was always a matter of convenience." He waves his right arm. "And then the War dragged on-"

"Yeah."

"-and spare parts became harder to come by, and I got used to cannibalising dead 'bots-"

"Um."

"-for parts. And the fuel efficiency drives! Oh, don't get me started on the fuel efficiency drives. There's more to life than miles-per-gallon!"

"So why are you here?"

"Where else would I go? Ratchet's busy running the show, so they need someone who knows his way around a hyperspanner."

"But what's in it for you?"

"Hm, steady supply of energon… Components… Subj-ah, patients... Eventually, they might even get around to restoring some of Cybertron's road networks."

"Earth has complete road networks. And race tracks. We have energon, and several world governments are gathering and stockpiling it. Earth also has the wrecks of every vehicon who died during your fights with the Autobots-."

"Eeeeeeehhhh. I'll pass. There's only so many times I can stare at a vehicon's internal systems before it all blurs together."

"Vehicons were a product of rationing, weren't they? Megatron needed warriors in the field and workers in the mines, but he didn't have enough energon to suppose a larger population of regular transformers…"

"That was part of it, certainly. Standard parts allows for standard production, which made it easier to keep them in the field."

"Do you think they'd want to be upgraded?"

"I'm not sure they have wants." But that is an interesting idea, isn't it? Replacing bland and boring components with something with a little character. "Out of… Curiosity, where are those vehicon bodies being kept?"

"If you want test cadavers, I'm sure that we can come to terms. Human governments want transformers willing to explain transformer technology to them."

"Is that what Slipstream's been doing?"

"No, she doesn't have the knowledge required. We've just been introducing more mundane technology from other worlds. You'd be in demand. You could probably name your price."

And isn't that an interesting proposition. No more road races for him. No, he could own his own racetrack, a proper course designed to test the participants to their limits. But the only other Decepticon would be Slipstream, and she wouldn't be changing to a ground-based altmode any time soon. Unless he could dig them up from somewhere like Skyquake-. No, that wasn't going to happen.

"And I was thinking that while the war might be over… What exactly is the draw of Cybertron? Energon? Ratchet will share that design, and that's only an issue in the long term."

"Mining energon isn't easy."

"It is when you can pay humans to throw manpower at it. Sure, one human is never going to match a vehicon, but hundreds with the right equipment will match the peak output the Decepticons managed." Hm. Could be true. "But what about inviting other transformers?"

"Like who?"

"Anyone who doesn't want to live on Cybertron. Team Prime are going to be putting this place back together for a very long time. Sure, I can see some transformers being interested in that, but Decepticons… Well, most Decepticons are used to living violent lives, and we've got Unicron's internal systems to pacify. If it's company you want then I doubt you'll have trouble finding takers."

"What's in it for you?"

"I get to have a medic around in case something happens to Slipstream. Don't worry: your sculpted aft is entirely safe from my clutches."

Hm… Worth thinking about. Definitely worth thinking about. But it's probably best to change the topic now before the human talks him into anything.

"What exactly got the Autobots so excited about this..? 'Last Autobot'?"

"The Last Autobot was created as a failsafe in case transformers were ever near extinction and Unicron woke up with no one left to fight him. Among other things, he is supposed to have the ability to raise transformers from the dead."

Knock Out frowns. "How?"

"I don't understand the mechanism. Supposedly, he raises his hands, wrecks self-repair and their spark reinstalls itself. He needs massive amounts of energon, but that's not really a problem any more."

Knock Out watches as Bulkhead hauls away one empty tanker and replace it with a full one. The human is correct. Actually, that might mean that refuelling Metroplex might be possible once they build a big enough production facility. He wasn't exactly fast, but working on a titan, that would be interesting.

Wait.

"And he can resurrect anyone?"

"Any transformer. Actually, he might be able to resurrect any Primus-derived species, Vector Sigma wasn't clear."

"And there aren't any..? Oh I don't know, restrictions..?"

"He pre-dates the War, so he's not going to care whether or not they were a Decepticon. The only.. issue would be if they were contaminated with dark energon. Because the whole-"

No.

"-point is to fight-."

"I-." Knock Out takes a half-step away from the human, uncertain of the stability of his own legs. "I need a moment."

"Knock Out? Are-?"

Horror and disgust war for dominance in his spark. He barely hears the human.

"Not now. Just-. Not now."