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

26th June 2012
16:51 GMT -5

As we get closer, my ring starts identifying the technologies used in the construction of the space station. A.. slightly worrying amount is a partial match for Tartarath's technology, and I… Suppose that they would have been the most advanced species in our region of space when he left. Other bits and pieces could have come from more or less anywhere, though the general structure… There's a slightly narrower range of species who build spherical space stations, but… The separation of the sphere section implies that the people who build it didn't have artificial gravity and were using centripetal force to substitute for it. So… Built without artificial gravity and upgraded later? Emotional attachment?

There's an open hangar, with a thin green film over it. I can't see Lord Malvolio himself… If he's been here long enough he probably could run a construct from his throne room to the exit, but there doesn’t appear to be a manual door and I'd be surprised if he went entirely without sleep. Sector Houses use a system like this-.

No. No, this isn't a converted Sector House. The technologies and layout are wrong. But that does look like a Sector House atmosphere shield.

"You spotted it too?"

"He's either very good or very good."

We pass through, and… I'm reminded of Emperor Palpatine's arrival on the Death Star. Ranks of soldiers and… Priests? Are lined up on either side, with a clear gangway between them. Some are the white skinned aliens I've seen so far, while others have pale orange skin. The pale orange ones are smaller, though… Without scanning them I can't say for certain that they're not the same species.

Off to the far sides I see in-system ships which appear to be of local manufacture. I don't see anything obviously Sheeda, though. Have I misjudged? Would he have simply annihilated them the moment they arrived uninvited? If they were rude, that… Sounds possible. How desperate was the Queen?

We touch down, and I release Diana as Jordan releases Mr Allen. Another humanoid is hurrying towards us along the open alley, this one… More human looking. That is to say, his skin is within the Caucasian colour range and he has both hair and a nose. He's wearing a blue jumpsuit, plain but for a white star with a small Green Lantern sigil in the centre and a white utility belt.

"Welcome, travellers! I am Wallace, squire to Lord Malvolio."

He smiles, slowing as he reaches us.

"It has been so long since either my Lord or myself have crossed paths with anyone from Earth, and now two sets in the same day!"

Diana nods, a polite smile on her face.

"It will be interesting to meet a man so well-travelled. No one on Earth has any idea that there have been humans in space for so long."

"To tell you the truth, I've almost forgotten what other humans look like."

"Do you and Lord Malvolio wanna go home?"

"I wouldn't presume to speak for Lord Malvolio, but for myself… I would be interested to see our former homeworld once more. It's been… Rather a long time."

"Yeah, I skimmed your court records. You left Earth when he did?"

"Verily."

Jordan frowns. "How are you still alive? You've gotta be three hundred years old."

"I suppose that I must be." Wallace nods solemnly. "I'd rather.. lost track. If… You'd like to accompany me, I'll escort you to Lord Malvolio now."

Diana nods, and Wallace turns away to lead us further into the space station. Diana and Jordan take the lead, with Mister Allen-. It's hard to see, but I think he's… Blurring slightly. Looking around while trying to look like he's staying in one place? I wouldn't have spotted it if I wasn't specifically looking for it, and I hope that Lord Malvolio doesn't notice. I on the other hand limit myself to passive scans. The station is shielded and appears to be using a kinetic energy induction system to maintain a near perfectly even internal temperature. Which means that infrared is just showing me the walls.

The people who were lined up to greet us remain staring ahead at least until the interior door closes, glancing neither left nor right as we passed them. That's a little disturb-.

Jordan gasps and I'm… Not far off doing that myself as we walk into an antechamber and see… What looks suspiciously like a Green Central Power Battery standing tall as the centrepiece in the middle of the room. A quick ring-assisted comparison to the one I saw on Oa shows that it's somewhat smaller, though still far larger than any personal lantern. A… Bit larger than the industrial lanterns used in the larger Sector Houses, though I suppose that it could simply be an obsolete model that Malvolio got hold of. Its vibrant glow shows that it's definitely still active. If that's what it is, that might explain how he's kept his ring charged for so long.

Except… Why wouldn't the Guardians pull the plug? The data I got from John's ring and from Hinon made it clear that doing that was very much an option. Was it..? Did they used to use lanterns which didn't have that function? Because if there's a way around the usual lockouts, that's something I need to know. I don't want to ever have to fight a Larfleeze who knows I'm coming.

At least it doesn't seem to be disrupting my rings.

The corridor out is wider, and leads to a grand staircase leading up to gold doors embossed with the green sigil. If the yellow weakness existed in this continuity, this would be a really stupid colour to use to decorate a space station. As it is, it's merely gaudy in the extreme.

Wallace knocks on the door three times, and after a moment of 'remember whose home this is' waiting the doors slowly begin to open.

I see Lord Malvolio himself almost immediately, and the Sheeda courtiers a moment later. The Sheeda are keeping their appearance as humanoid as possible and generally appear to be conducting themselves with decorum. And-. There's Gloriana Tenebrae.

I don't look inside her. Aside from anything else, I don't imagine that I'd see anything that would actually help me achieve my objectives. Just a cavalcade of malicious decisions made for personal satisfaction. Anarawd is rationally self-interested. Melmoth is just vile, and I doubt that the woman who usurped him would be any better.

Wallace remains still until the doors are fully open, then proceeds forward in a slow and stately fashion. As we follow him I contemplate switching to my formal robes… No. This is still a combat mission, and I'm still in a room with some very dangerous people.

Malvolio doesn't appear much moved by our arrival, remaining slumped in his beautifully wrought chair throne. He really does look like a medieval take on Alan, red and green clothes combined with a tiny mask, which he wears… Why? I mean, at least Alan had a reason to conceal his identity. I can't imagine that Malvolio has any human family he actually knows left alive after all this time. And speaking of human… As we get closer and I can better estimate his size… He's either not human any more or at least not wholly human. He's about two metres tall but there are humans who are taller. It's that he's too broad, too muscular, and his proportions are off. His hands are large enough to envelop a normal person's head but honestly it's his head that's most obviously abnormal. It's expanded to match the proportions of his muscles, which makes it grotesquely large by human standards.

I mean, if you saw him on his own from a distance you probably wouldn't notice it, but like this…

"Lord Malvolio." Diana bows, and after a momentary delay on Jordan's part the other League members do the same. I can't really bow properly in this armour, but I lean slightly along with them. "Thank you for inviting us into your home."

"Long has it been since I have spoken with men and women from the world of my birth. And now two distinct types stand before me. Queen Gloriana claims dominion over the entire globe, and appeals to me to aid in the realisation of her claim. Who are you, and why do you seek me?"

"I am Princess Diana of Themyscira. These are my colleagues…"

Always a bit of a puzzle when dealing with people from other planets. Do you use the real name or their title? Or course, an alien wouldn't know that 'Flash' wasn't his real name, but that doesn't help when dealing with an exotic human like Malvolio.

"Green Lantern Harold Jordan, the Flash, and Orange Lantern Paul."

Oddly, Malvolio doesn't appear to be focusing on Jordan to any great degree. I would have thought that for better or worse that's where his eyes would fall.

"And we would ask your aid in bringing the few remaining Sheeda to justice."

 

26th June 2012
16:55 GMT -5

A nice way of putting it. Honestly, we'd be happy with him declaring that it was no affair of his and letting us get on with it, but this way she implies that ours is the one in accordance with the rules of civilisation. Because he's very big on that.

"You do agree then with Cicero's maxim 'In war the law is silent'?"

I take a moment to study the Sheeda in more detail. Gloriana herself has pale turquoise skin and the classically elven pointed ears, and small ear rings hang from her lobes on either side. There are… 5? Short horn-stumps sticking out of the top of her head, and her clothing is… Oh, who am I kidding, it's dominatrix gear. Mostly skin tight save for where it's been cut away to expose more skin, decorative 'armoured' shoulder pads, silly semi-ruff thing that's probably an attempt to compensate for her slight and unimposing frame. Her eyes are completely black, which is a little disturbing, but all in all I'm left with a powerful reminder that a person can accomplish deeds of great malevolence without being particularly threatening in themselves.

She's accompanied by two 'beta' dommes, characterised by their conical hats, lack of ear rings and smaller breasts. Their clothing reveals less skin and looks slightly more armoured, though I can't see the runework which usually marks Highborn Sheeda out as particularly dangerous. Her handmaidens, I assume. The other four members of their party are arrayed for combat, but while their armour is slightly thicker I can't see anything… Special. Nothing that would let them turn the tide against an overwhelming force.

For a moment I'm reminded of the Heroes of Might and Magic series. The good fights were in the middle of a campaign map. By the time you got to the end, the player character would inevitably have an insurmountable advantage compared to the AI.

In a way it's nice to be rewarded for preparation.

"I do not. While it is true that many laws do not apply to open conflicts between peoples, there are still conventions which the nations of Earth abide by. Ambassadors and other negotiators are given safe passage. One soldier killing another is not murder, but rape remains rape. You left Earth long before the Geneva Conventions were signed, but now almost every nation on Earth has agreed to abide by certain terms when engaged in armed conflict."

"Have the Sheeda signed this convention?"

"The Sheeda are not a nation. They travelled to our time from the far future. If you travel to lands owned by another nation, claiming that you are not from there does not grant immunity to their laws. If the Sheeda merely wished to make war upon us with the aim of conquering us, that would be one thing. Instead, they aim to kill all but a handful of the Earth's inhabitants, soldiers and civilians, men, women and children alike, and for no better reason than to indulge their own cruelty. The prevention of such behaviour is why the Convention exists, and why it is enforced between nations."

The Queen actually moves slightly at that, her head tilted slightly back and her general air being one of contemptuous disinterest. Not sure what she's trying to prove by not interjecting. Unless she thinks that she's already got this sewn up.

"And for these crimes that you allege, what remedy would you seek?"

"We would like to have the remaining Sheeda handed over to us to be tried for their actions and punished as the laws of Earth require."

"And what retribution will the justices seek?"

Which will result in just about every Sheeda soldier who ends up in custody being sentenced to death. It's been a while since an international tribunal had the power to hand down a death sentence, but I can't really think of another response to attacks like the ones they've carried out. A bit of a shame; a proportion of them are probably capable of rehabilitation, and if… If Sivana had been operating at full power from the start and the damage had been less, and there was less outrage, maybe I could talk people around to lesser sentences.

'We're going to kill most of them' isn't as easy a sell as… Just about anything else. Or it wouldn't be for me. For all I know, Malvolio would respect the hard-line approach and cheer them on.

"That is not for me to determine."

Lord Malvolio doesn't give any outward sign of displeasure at that bunt. I've got a worrying feeling that he's going to take everything in, decide on a course of action and then pursue it in true single minded Green Lantern fashion. And after that point, anything we say in moderation is going to be disregarded.

"Who will name the justices who will determine the fate of the Sheeda?"

"I imagine the panel will be comprised of a combination of senior judges from the Earth's most powerful countries, with a smaller number from the rest of the world."

"Will they be honest men and true?"

"Yes. They will have no alternative. The whole world will witness their actions and judge them for them."

The leaders, certainly. I would be astonished if any country that actually took Sheeda prisoner was willing to hand them over to an international tribunal rather than try them themselves.

"You are clearly an obliging noble. And how will your deeds be rewarded?"

"I am hopeful that this will ease the way to greater international cooperation relating to attacks of this magnitude in the future."

"But you do not expect a personal reward of lands or titles?"

"That's not how we work."

Mr. Allen nods. "A good deed well done is its own reward."

I brace slightly, but Lord Malvolio doesn't appear to take umbrage. However, his head does move very slightly so that his eyes are pointed in my direction.

"And you, wyrmling?"

"I can't imagine anything they could give me as a reward that I actually want. Respect for my public service is far more useful."

He doesn't reply, but his head turns slowly back to Diana.

"And how do you respond to the Sheeda's claim that they are merely taking their due, as a lord may take of a serf's labour?"

"A lord provides protection in exchange for the serf's labour, both in the form of an enforced code of law and against foreign enemies who may seek to harm them. The Sheeda provide no one with any service. They are not the Earth's rulers, but merely parasites. Queen Gloriana may well be the queen of the Sheeda; that is for them to determine. She is not the queen of us."

"She has promised me much. And while she visited my realm at my invitation, you intruded here and attacked my guest's household."

"My colleagues have raised the possibility of aiding you in leaving this star system. I do not know how that could be achieved, but we are willing to try. As for attacking her household: we are at war. We slew none who were not under arms and damaged no property that was not a part of their military."

"I do not accuse you of violating your own rules of warfare, but of besmirching my honour in attacking my guests."

"We did not know that they were your guests. We did not know that this was your system. But if your honor will not allow you to hand them over, we…" She glances at Jordan who merely bows his head slightly. "Are prepared to accept them being exiled here, rather than being returned to Earth."

I nod inside my armour. It's not great, but if it prevents further violence while allowing him to be satisfied, it'll be worth it. Queen Gloriana just isn't that much of a threat on her own.

"Diana!"

Mr. Allen… Doesn't seem quite so sanguine.

Diana's eyes flick to him for a moment before returning to Lord Malvolio.

"Our greatest concern is to ensure the continuing wellbeing of our people. If the remaining Sheeda can no longer threaten the Earth, we can-."

"Like hell!"

 

26th June 2012
17:00 GMT -5

And then he's not standing there and I start accelerating my perception and cognitive speed at once, knowing even as I do it that it won't be enough.

I just about manage to see a black blur, a throwing motion that he started incorporating into his repertoire after my performance review sending projectiles screaming towards the Sheeda at relativistic speeds. Looks like he's learned from the few Sheeda who adapted to his speed; rather than just throw directly at them, he's throwing at everywhere they could conceivably dodge to within the fraction of a second they'd have available.

Slightly more clearly, I see wards of protection and warning light up around the Sheeda, the slight shimmer of a displacement ward trying to find somewhere safe to deposit them within the time available and failing, and the slight widening of the queen's eyes as they make her aware of this.

And then the whole thing turns green.

"Perfidy!"

The queen gets smeared across-. No, not the queen. One of the handmaidens swapped places with her, and the best I can say about Lord Malvolio's effort to shield her is that it protected the floor behind her at the cost of redirecting the entire force of a relativistic projectile into her body.

An ironic death, considering what the Sheeda have been doing to the humans they caught.

I can see projectiles stop in the air, motion arrested by Lord Malvolio's command of the green light. Is he strong enough to force-block that many projectiles..? Since this is clearly going to shit anyway, I reach out with my own orange light senses, and-. No, the normal physical laws aren't operating around the bullets. Malvolio's changed the laws of motion in order to stop the projectiles. That's interest-.

A shadow in the green light and Malvolio's head is knocked to the left and then to the right, green light dimming, and then-.

Ah!

Normal speed, and then the corpses of the Sheeda fall or evaporate, depending on what Mr. Allen did to them. The man himself stands just in front of Lord Malvolio, breathing hard as the super Lantern comes to his feet.

Mr. Allen flicks the Sheeda-blood off his hands once again.

"And I'm not even a little bit sorry."

Jordan looks shocked. "Barry, what the hell?!"

"You have chosen your own death."

A fat beam of green light blasts from his ring, hitting Mr. Allen in the-.

It was going to hit him in the chest, the green light shining throughout the room appearing to somehow restrict his movements. But Mr. Allen gets his arms up, blurring them, and somehow… What looks like it should be a blast powerful enough to erase him instead just shoves him backwards into the rear wall. Squire Wallace dives for cover as Diana draws her sword and shield and charges Lord Malvolio-

And isn't it nice that she instinctively supports her team mate in this situation?

-while Jordan takes a moment to get his head in the game. I… Could help, and I'm certainly interested in how my abilities stack up against his, but… Does it matter? With the Queen and the rest of their leaders dead, the mission is over. The people in this system don't exactly appear to be languishing under the heel of a tyrant. Or at least, not a capricious one. With our target eliminated, our only obligation is to ourselves. Therefore, our aim should be to get ourselves out, not beat up Lord Malvolio.

I try to move, but whatever Malvolio's doing to slow down Mr. Allen so he can hit him is also holding me in place. My environmental shield expands as I focus on my desires for freedom and movement and-.

Fuck!

Ugh. I'm… Outside of the station, my environmental shield glitching and fading. Lord Malvolio just shot me through the walls, and while that wasn't anything like enough to harm me inside of my defences, that… Overwhelmed my control.

"Orange Lantern to League. I'm going to try-."

There's an explosion, green beams blasting through the station in multiple directions! We walked past the people-!

I fly at speed towards the closest breach. No real need to slap a barrier over it; the station still has gravity and the pressure difference is only one atmosphere. People aren't going to get sucked out, but they do-.

The ones who survived the initial careless blast need to be evacuated. I grab everyone I can see, pull them towards me and transmute spacesuits around them and then throw them outside. Five, ten, fifteen… Internal bulkheads have engaged and the walls are blocking my ability to scan, and-.

Block!

I'm knocked back, but most of the force gets deflected around my construct shield. I can't see Malvolio, so I assume he just aimed at a light? I check-.

The blasts deflected into the walls behind me, widening the hole and-. And one of the people I rescued was hit. The suit was torn apart, and… Well, he's.. dead. The others must have calculated that they could save more people by stopping Malvolio than by directly making rescues.

Um.

I transmute a new bulkhead against the innermost breach in the walls, then grab the survivors and head out into space. It looks like the whole station is weakly glowing, but hopefully if I get far enough away-. Test transition? Yes.

A blink and I'm down on the surface, dropping off the evacuees and reclaiming their suits. Another blink and I'm up close to the station again. Next breach-.

If I knew where everyone was, that would make it a lot easier to get them to safety. I split my focus, one set of orange strands putting the station's crew into the suits while another forms a crumbler construct and tests-. Yes, the station's hull is vulnerable to crumblers. Right. Pull back, transition this group to the surface and reclaim the suits, then go back up.

I try putting one foot outside of the material but while it works, the station itself is obscured from my vision.

Hard way, then. I throw out tendrils, poking small holes in the material of the station, seeking to pierce as many sections as possible. Probe constructs follow, searching for-.

I lose constructs in a section of the station as Malvolio and Jordan rampage through, Diana hanging off Malvolio's right arm by her lasso.

Not a good match. Nothing about Malvolio suggests that he's inclined to lie.

I keep going, using constructs to stick suits on civilians as I find them. Some are heading towards escape pods, but they haven't made it very far. Misplaced faith in their ruler-? No, it's only been nineteen seconds. Fair enough, then.

There are a cluster gathered in… A dining area? I use crumbler constructs to smash my way in, grabbing them and flying back out-

"Paul? Where'd you go?"

"Evacuating-"

-to the blocking limit, transition down, transition up.

"-the civilians. Do you need me?"

"No, good thinking. We're good h-."

Another blast of green goes through the hull, and this time it's heading towards the planet.

Okay, I can-.

Was that Jordan?

 

26th June 2012
17:02 GMT -5

I blink, and I can see the green explosion as Jordan hits the ground and keeps going, the-.

He's either okay or he's not. Scan the area. Is anyone-? Was anyone living down-?

Miles of blasted terrain. No one there now, whoever was there before. Next cluster of station inhabitants-.

"You would-"

Constructarmourandwarpdodge.

"-be well advised-"

The green aura has spread, filling local space as Lord Malvolio leaves the station. Diana's in pursuit, no sign of Mr. All-. No, there he is, moving station inhabitants into escape pods and launching them. Bit of a problem with his skill set: his inability to fight in space. He's still got his air mask, but we're going to have to transport him off the station before too long or he'll be a sitting duck.

"-to focus-"

Diana slices at him, causing him to raise his right hand to parry her sword with his, which fades as he half-turns to punch her in the solar plexus. Ah, moment by moment construct creation! Skilled in combat as well as powerful. Diana's armour takes it but she's knocked back, and he fires a fat energy beam at her as a follow up.

"-on the-"

I could shoot him, but we came to his home and killed his guests, and Diana doesn't look like she's in mortal danger. Escape pods start launching, blasting away from the station and orientating on the planet. If Flash has finished-.

I fly towards the launch bay, where Flash appears to be attempting to seal the area's hull breaches with the station's emergency patching supplies.

"Do you-?"

"-fight!"

A lance construct comes through the wall, impaling me through my construct armour! I'm slammed into the deck, and as I swing a crumbler around-. Gone. I turn, raise a construct shield and brace.

"Do you need a lift?"

"To where?"

"The Castle Revolving? One of the planets?"

He nods. "Get me to the Castle. Maybe Mist managed to-"

I attach filaments to him and-. The station's a write-off anyway, I create a crumbler construct and fly through all obstacles in the direction of the Castle Revolving.

"-reopen the portal."

"And you might be able to use the Sheeda still there-"

We're out of the decidedly sorry-looking station and flying through local space. I get a quick look at Diana and she's.. managing. In fact, she feels… Odd? Oh, don't tell me that she's actually using her divine abilities to keep up? Will wonders never cease.

"-as shields."

I keep a hefty shield construct pointed in their direction, but the journey is quick and it doesn't look like he can afford to move away from Diana-. Oh, she's lassoed him again so that he can't. That would explain it.

"I don't regret it."

"Good for you."

"Where's Hal?"

We fly into one of the more intact fly-aeries and I drop him off.

"Malvolio blasted him into the planet. If it didn't kill him, he's probably digging himself out. Excuse me."

And out of the ship again.

"Jordan, you alive?"

"Shaken up, but yeah. I think I went… Through the planet. Diana?"

"Coping. Can you help her?"

"What about you?"

"Flash is on the Sheeda ship in case Mist opens a portal. I want a closer look at what this 'void' actually is. If we can just fly out-."

"He can fly after us."

"With no stellar navigation assistance? Difficult."

"He could just aim at a nearby star."

"And we can get the full story out of the Guardians."

"Okay. Watch Diana's back until I get there, then switch out."

"Right."

Malvolio uses a trident construct to hold Diana's sword arm away and punches her in the faceplate. That could actually work; the nature of the attachment meant that we had to include weak points so that the wearer could speak and-.

Diana's head jerks back as he follows up on his shot with an energy blast, her grip momentarily weakening and the rope of the lasso slacking. Malvolio immediately-

Green laser construct.

-gasps in pain as I shoot him in the back of the head with a laser that passes right through his environmental shield. He switches his attention from Diana to me, but the distance between us makes dodging his slower than light constructs a simple matter. Though I'm careful to ensure that there isn't anything behind me as I dodge; the last thing I want is for him to hit the Castle Revolving because he got too single-minded. He grits his teeth and tries to fly at me, but Diana's recovered and tugs him back, forcing him to block her sword with a construct shield and just take the strike from the edge of her shield.

My laser isn't doing any damage that I can see; human flesh would have been incinerated by now while I can't even see sunburn on him. But he clearly finds it uncomfortable so I keep doing it. Can I burn his mask? No, though shooting him in the eyes got-.

My construct gets destroyed, and I notice that he used his left hand to draw his side arm. I-.

"Tag."

"Keep him away from the ship."

Jordan flies past, generating a hammer construct and I can't watch. Instead, I try a full intensity scan in the general direction of 'away from the star'. Returns after a certain point… Dim, and then cut out. It's actually inside where the normal Oort cloud would be, so that's where I'm going.

Space bends around me, and I leave the fight behind.

 

26th June 2012
17:04 GMT -5

Ovoid enclosure with sensor-resistant inner coating?

No.

Extreme extra-galactic displacement?

No.

Planar displacement?

No. Thank you, blue me.

Particle cloud?

No.

Exotic singularity?

No.

Surprisingly large stellar life form?

No.

'Space magic'?

No.

…

Bit of a puzzler.

I know quite a large number of methods which could be used for enclosing a star system like this, and testing isn't showing up anything helpful. After a certain point there's just nothing. Trying to fly into it results in me remaining stationary, relative to the star behind me. Constructs peter out. Projectiles vanish.

Mysticism it is, then.

Hopefully, with Malvolio's full attention on his fight, I can pass into the Honden unnoticed. Opening my/her serpentine eyes I/we look around, trying to see the trails of desire that brought these people to this system in the first place. The Hall of the Green Flame had clear references to the initial colonisation-.

Nothing. Nothing. Empty halls, with the faintest tint of orange to show where desires might perhaps be if there were any to display.

Someone is trying to make a mockery of me/us in my/our own house. That is not something I/we can tolerate.

I/We expand ourselves into the walls, into the floors, into the ceilings and the spaces within, existing as them, feeling for every crack and crease and irregularity. We extend back, back towards where the people of this system connect weakly to the Honden, obscured by the overwhelming green/will of their overlord.

All Things Strive.

There, there there! Tracings, etchings, residues not wholly scrubbed clear! Oh, you tried, savage, defiler! But I am/we are wise, careful, observant! I/we twist the way I/we look…

And there is our corridor. There are our walls, there are our ceilings and our spaces and our needs and wants and desires. An enlightened soul came through here, but they did not understand, did not know what they were playing with! And there is our path, our connection to the wider universe. We could leave on our own now, but we would not leave our friends and we are not completely certain that we could shield them.

The only question is, where is Lord Malvolio within these walls? Will his malevolence remain if we free him, or will he accept that as a trade for Barry Allen's treachery against him? Our instincts say to let him free, for we cannot control his actions but we can control our own, though that is… Technically a nonsense as we are confident that given time we are quite capable of controlling his actions, strong as he is. But we should give him the rope with which he could hang himself.

"Please do not."

I remember Guy 'spotting' me during an exercise session I did during that week I went without a ring following my initial bonding with the Ophidian, him having a laugh at my unfamiliarity with physical exercise and me needing to push onwards. The… Part of me that is the Ophidian merely hisses at the intrusion.

Our tongue flicks out, tasting for the desire to communicate, the desire which maintains this barrier. It takes a moment, for the desire is weak and the soul… Like a Guardian, cut off from other colours. It tastes like concrete: not malevolent, but something that should not be eaten.

The soul becomes aware of us regarding it as we become aware of it regarding us. We can't see its body like this, though its general way of perceiving the universe implies a humanoid.

"Who are you?"

"When I served the Guardians of the Universe as a Green Lantern, I was commonly called 'Priest'. And I must ask you to refrain from releasing Lord Malvolio."

"We are minded to ignore your request. Justify yourself swiftly."

"I was once assigned to this Sector as a Green Lantern. My partner came from the world of Selsia Five. Many years ago I was alerted to his death, and travelled there to discover that his son had slain him and taken his ring. He took to it naturally, and to begin with the Guardians ordered forbearance. That was not a unique occurrence; the Green Lantern Corps frequently recruits from warrior cultures where there are lawful ways of fatally duelling someone, and since he was able to wield the ring I accepted that there was something worthy in him which the Guardians in their wisdom could see. Still, he had killed a friend and colleague and I made a point of having little to do with him."

"It was not until many years later that the Guardians ordered me to kill him, in clear contravention of their usual policy on lethal force. I wondered why they were arbitrarily acting against a mere murderer, but when I investigated the extent of his misdeeds and discovered that they had been closely monitoring him for some time, I thought that they sought to use me as a tool to conceal their misjudgement. It was not until after I refused their order and created this void to contain him that I came to understand the true reason."

"You have felt Lord Malvolio's power. The connection he possesses to the green light of will. Have you realised yet how such power affects those around him? How it becomes natural to them to share his certainty in those subjects upon which he is certain?"

"We have not. He was not our primary focus. Though we know that what you say is possible."

"It is a curse of Green Lanterns: for every one of us to believe bull headedly that ours is the only way. It is a belief that empowered our rings, but-."

"We are well acquainted with the intellectual failings of the Green Lantern Corps."

"Power without the wisdom of restraint. A sufficiently powerful Lantern can turn all those around themselves into extensions of their own psyche without specifically meaning to. Even now, the people of this Sector are fixated with Lord Malvolio's restoration."

Con… Cerning. But… No. We've been keeping track of the desires of those around us on and off since we bonded. If we'd been fanning the desires of people closest to us we would have become aware of it. And if people on the Earth generally wanted what we want then our life would be a good deal less frustrating.

"And are they fixating quietly and peacefully?"

"I would not describe their response in that way. Two of the largest groups are in what I can only describe as a theological war."

"Sounds like it would be better if we released him."

"They will learn to live without him, eventually."

"Almost certainly. But we are not prepared to make a decision on the rightness or wrongness of their heartfelt desires after a short conversation. Goodbye, and-"

We fortify the link between the desires within and without, restoring the links between the rest of the universe and this small severed part. We feel a resistance, but we are stronger and older, and the universe remembers its proper shape.

"-goodbye."

I open my eyes and the stars are back! We're in Sector 1634, a short hop from home. I

step out

and appear on the planet's surface next to the refugee fortification.

"Jordan, time to leave. I've got the prisoners."

"Understood. I'll-."

His face vanishes, and a green-burning image of Lord Malvolio's head replaces it.

"This is not the end."

"It is for now."

I grab my refuge and its inhabitants in a construct excavation bucket, set a course for the middle of nowhere…

And we're gone.

 

27th June 2012
01:53 GMT +5:30

A superhero's work is never done.

It's sort of the reverse of Yagami Light's plan of killing the worst people in the world, even if the worst weren't very bad. There's always something you can be doing, even if it's not all that significant.

In my case, that's using the 'opportunity' provided by the Sheeda depopulating vast areas of Indian slums to replace the cramped and unsanitary hovels with something a little more fit for human sanitation. I also deposited a few hundred tonnes of L.E.G.I.O.N. humanoid-safe field rations from the ships who finally put in an appearance in the hands of local aid agencies, because even though the attacks have stopped this year's harvest has been massively disrupted. And the looting and fire-setting didn't exactly help. Despite how hard it got hit, India looks like it will pull through with its government structures more or less intact.

Unlike South America. Or most of Africa.

Another media reference: a Doctor Who episode in which the leader of a group of humans who'd been fighting the daleks remarked that there wasn't any point in having medics, because the daleks never inflicted non-fatal injuries. The Sheeda appear to act on a similar paradigm. I have moved medical supplies around, but there's no actual increase in requirements. It's more that the economy and transport links are so messed up that nothing can get anywhere. Guy moved a few Dolmen Gates and I don't think that prejudice against magic healing will survive this conflict, but Atlantis simply doesn't have enough physicians to replace the international medicine trade.

Major fighting has fallen off, and while no one's said anything to me directly I suspect that world leaders took Dr. Sivana's deal. Or maybe without the Queen ordering what may well have been distraction attacks the other Highborn are playing it safe. Or maybe without the Castle Revolving's time drive they're stuck whenever they are… At least until Dr. Sivana gets together enough suspendium to open a portal from this side.

The people I brought back were generally traumatised. Aside from facing their own deaths and witnessing a great many of their fellow captives go through the Sheeda's processing, most of them lost family to the rendering vats or to the attack that resulted in their capture. Some of their families were delighted to have them back, others horrified that we weren't able to recover more. That those few people were all that had survived.

Batman can decide how to deal with Mr. Allen. It's not that I don't understand. I'm not even angry with him. But that's… Things are going to change, now. With the League fighting an actual war and not just fighting crime. With League members killing. The ones who haven't are now in a clear minority versus those who have, a complete reverse of the situation ante bellum.

I guess this proves I was right. I'm glad I don't feel better about it.

Incoming phone call from approved source.

Please not Truggs.

Call originates at the Galaxy Broadcasting System headquarters.

Heh. Alright, put it through.

"Orange Lantern Illustres here. I'm free to talk, but I'm otherwise occupied."

"Hey! Alice Gilmore, GBS. Are you free to-? Live. Talk TV live. Ah, live, in a minute?"

Despite the devastation before me, I can't help but smile a little.

"Were you told to make that point very clear, or are scare stories being passed around the office?"

"Um, ah, both..?"

"Yes, I think I can manage that. And I did tell your superiors that firing Ms. Dearden was an overreaction."

"I… But… No one's seen her in months. Before the Sheeda. She did those interviews, then just vanished.. So no one really wants to go down that road."

Oh.

"Well, I… Promise I won't make you disappear. How about that?"

"Okay! Just a sec!"

I… Seem to vaguely remember that she was… Alright? I-. I can't remember clearly my… Last conversation with her? If there was a problem, wouldn't someone have-.

"Good evening, Orange Lantern!"

"Good morning, Ms. Grant. It's about two o'clock in the morning where I am."

"Can you tell me anything about the Justice League's recent fighting against the Sheeda?"

"I haven't kept track of recent Justice League releases, so I apologise if I'm repeating something. The Sheeda ruler, Queen Gloriana Tenebrae, was killed, and their command ship was crippled, in an attack by the Justice League. A.. small number of abductees were recovered, and have been returned to their places of origin."

"The League already confirmed that. Were you involved in the attack?"

"Yes. Well, if you already knew I suppose I should try and say something new. Has knowledge that Doctor Thaddeus Sivana has offered to annihilate all surviving Sheeda holdouts entered the public domain yet?"

"… No. … Why? I thought he was.. completely evil."

"It is my opinion that he is a psychopath. However, he's more disinterested in other people's wellbeing than actively hostile to it. I am also of the opinion that he could carry out the process more swiftly and mercilessly than the Justice League. In case you're wondering, his price is a pardon for all his previous crimes as he wants to retire from villainy."

"Is that..? Something that can happen?"

"Retiring? Sure. It's not very common, but it does happen. Yellow Wasp retired uncaught and never committed any further offences." Unless kidnapping counts as 'ongoing'. "If you mean the pardon, most states have a mechanism for commuting sentences. I don’t think any criminal has bargained in quite this way before, but there's a first time for everything."

"How does he know enough about the Sheeda to do something like that?"

"He lived in their time period for years, then they tried to kill his family. He's also very very clever."

"He knew about the Sheeda coming here-. To our time, in advance?"

"A lot of people did. The Justice League knew, I knew, various people in governments received threat reports... We just didn't know exactly when; we thought we had a while or I wouldn't have been off-planet when they turned up. Then again, given the timing of Harrowings, they could have turned up a decade ago. Or fifty years ago. If that had happened, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

I sigh as I build a rainwater collection system into the sewers to improve flow.

"Despite everything, all in all… Earth is in a peaceful area of space. This is the first wide scale planetary attack we've had to deal with. Despite everyone that died, usually when the Sheeda Harrow a place they kill just about everyone. For an attack like this, on a planet as unprepared as we were… I'm afraid this is what a good result looks like. And if anyone wants to see a picture of a bad result, I'm willing to show them one."

"What sorts of thing should the world learn from this attack?"

"We're blessed, really. Not one inhabited world in a thousand has access to magic. We produce genius inventors and technologists at a rate that's basically unheard of, build devices that are near-incomprehensible to civilisations far more advanced than ours. I've… Banged this drum before. But… We don’t do anything with it. Things that could improve the lives of billions, don't. And I think… In my own mind, I look around and I think that none of this needed to happen."

"The magic detection network I proposed last year and that could have been built in the seventies, that could have detected Sheeda attacks as they appeared, got thrown up in a rush during the last month. Outside a handful of superheroes no one's been to the moon in decades, Mars… Ever. If the Earth is destroyed then that's our civilisation dead. There are a still only a handful of magic users outside of Atlantis. And what so many people don't understand is that not using what you have doesn't stop other people using what they have. People like the Sheeda, for example. This is the price of… Blind introversion. This is.. the price of mediocrity. And there's no excuse, not when a species has the opportunities that we do."

"There's no one bad actor I can point to, no one point of failure, just thousands of failures taken over the course of decades. A wilful embrace of 'getting by'. This is the price of mediocrity. And I really don't want anyone to ever have to pay it again."

 

28th June 2012
21:53 GMT -5

"I'm going to ask once."

Strands of orange light connect me through one of Dr. Sivana's machines to the Harvest Dreadnaught's internal systems. Its external mechanisms are already dead, but a lot of the internal mechanisms don't have any sort of central override.

"The Castle Revolving has been destroyed. Every other Harvest Dreadnaught has either been destroyed or captured. Queen Gloriana Tenebrae is dead. The Harrowing is over and has failed. There is no longer any benefit in you continuing to fight. Please surrender. Lay down your arms and you will be treated in accordance with our laws for handling prisoners of war. Should you choose not to…"

I look over to where Dr. Sivana is pushing a fish tank gurney filled with child zombies back through his portal.

"I regret that I will be obliged to leave your fate in the hands of Doctor Thaddeus Bodog Sivana."

By pure chance I was right. Without the Castle the Harvest Dreadnaughts were stuck. Those that were using their more powerful stealth technology, anyway. One was caught in the 'deployed' position in southern Africa, and there weren't any survivors once the US air force were finished bombarding it.

Their defences were somewhat compromised at the time. Dr. Balewa appears to consider time travellers to be acceptable targets.

"You may remember him as the human who spent some time in your era and survived everything you threw at him. Now that he has a fully equipped laboratory, he wants to find out what he missed about the way your bodies work. Naturally, I can't condone such behaviour, which is why I will turn around before he starts performing live dissections. You have…"

There's a quiet 'thunk' as the wheels move over the lip of the portal.

"About thirty seconds to decide. We own your internal systems at this point, so just shout 'we surrender' in a loud and clear voice."

My eyes briefly alight on the still-beating Sheeda heart Dr. Sivana is using as part of his device.

"Twenty eight."

The Dreadnaught's internal monitoring shows that even after a billion years, diffusion of responsibility is still a thing. Crew are looking at their section chiefs, and it looks like they're waiting for them to make the 'right' decision. Oddly, it's the surviving squadron leaders who are making a point of obeying my instruction. Sheeda working in the processing section on the other hand are setting up ambushes. They've already… There wasn't anyone recoverable in there when we boarded.

That makes a degree of sense. Proving that an individual soldier went beyond acceptable degrees of wartime murderousness would be difficult but everyone in processing is looking at a firing squad. If they're still alive once Dr. Sivana is finished with them.

The Highborn captain on the bridge stands.

"We are prepared to negotiate-."

"I'm not. I am presenting terms. Twenty seconds."

She isn't carrying any weapons, but bows her head and removes her gauntlets before symbolically dropping them on the floor. Some of the bridge crew briefly hesitate, but all of them follow suit.

"We surrender."

I make sure to broadcast that across the rest of the ship, and the hesitant start to comply.

"Leave your weapons where they are. Proceed to the primary drive for p-." I nearly say 'processing', but I don't want to imply that we're going to kill them anyway. Immediately anyway. "Formal detainment. Any attempt to bring weapons with you will be treated as perfidy and result in summary- "

Dr. Sivana walks back through the portal, rubbing his hands together eagerly.

"-execution. Your time is now up. Proceed to Primary Drive in a calm and orderly fashion now. Hostilities will resume once all prisoners are removed."

"So? How many do I get?"

"Looks like thirty two."

"All Lowborn, I take it?"

I didn't ask whether Sheeda were in the habit of taking other Sheeda alive. They presumably know that we don't do to prisoners what they do to them.

"Yes."

"Mm. Well, I have to start somewhere, I suppose. Do you think I should try and recover the human remains?"

"I imagine that their families would appreciate that."

He looks at me, and I remember that he's a psychopath.

"Yes, if reasonably practical."

He smiles.

"Ah, you spotted it. I had too, but as much as I like being a free man again it's not as if I actually care about those people."

"I don't believe you've ever actually been in prison."

"No, but I did once spend two weeks in a secure hospital while I was in a coma."

Disarmed fly ground crew from the closest hangar walk in, freezing briefly when they see Dr. Sivana. I point to the portal and they carry on through, not breaking into a run but not taking their eyes off him.

"So this is really it? No more supervillainy?"

"I think my problem was that I didn't kill enough people. Half of the countries offering me a pardon tried to hire me, all thanks to the Sheeda. If I'd cloned a few million super-insects and faked an invasion, I could have had this years ago."

"You weren't the man you are now a few years ago. Also, I don't think that Venus would like it if you created an army of super-insects."

"Yes, mentioning Venus's name is a good way to make me remember a request. Well done." He looks around, causing the Sheeda walking past to step away while trying to avoid looking like they are. "So who gets to keep this Harvest Dreadnaught?"

"Do you want it?"

"No, I've already taken one, but that Dox fellow seems like the sort who might appreciate it." I raise my eyebrows. "Georgia mentioned him. She seems quite taken with him." He frowns thoughtfully. "It will be an interesting conclusion to the experiment if she ends up in a romantic relationship before any of my other children."

"Can you guess what I'm thinking?"

"Usually, no. But in this case, I imagine that you're curious about me performing experiments with my children."

"'Curious'. Yes."

"It's either that or you're interested in either her or Dox yourself, and that's not very likely. I haven't made any secret of what I'm doing, and I know perfectly well that she and Junior are going to be watching my attempts to re-woo Venus with notepads out and pencils raised." He smiles. "That's how I raised them. Hm." He focuses on me. "I have a question for you, actually."

"I have little interest in either Georgia or Dox, and wish them every happiness."

"No. What happens next? I've never been any good at predicting people. I honestly didn't think that they'd ever give me a pardon. But my life coach says that I should try putting myself -metaphorically putting myself- in other people's position. A lot of people lost family members to an attack they didn't see coming and couldn't fight back. I'm not.. sure what I'd do if anyone in my family died, but I doubt it would be particularly nice. I've seen what happens when alien civilisations go through this sort of trauma, but humans aren't quite like other species. What does this sort of trauma do to humans, do you think?"

"What's going to happen next?"

 

6 246 937.M41

I set the Shark Assault Boat down on an open field on -ironically- the Imperial agri-world of Gravalax, then open the hangar doors before releasing it from my grip. It's on the border between Imperial space and Tau space, and a mere six years ago might have undergone a change in overseer but for the efforts of the local genestealer cult. There are still… Some.. 'xenoists' amongst the local population, but after the tau trade mission pulled out there was a bit of a good old Imperial purge.

There's a rumble a moment later, and a convoy of Imperial civilian vehicles drive down the embarkation ramps. At my suggestion Fio'o Dy'aketh Shi'ra agreed to release a few police stations' worth of Imperial agitators along with the people who took part in the raid on the cultist temple, more to get them off the planet than anything else. They don't know anything significant about tau operations and now they can agitate somewhere else.

Cain and Jurgen are holding back, making sure that everyone is able to evacuate safely. Or as I'm sure Cain will one day note in his memoirs, allowing them to draw any incoming fire. I fly into the interior of the dropship and land close by.

"I thought that Gravalax would have a certain ironic appeal. And you can be certain of a friendly welcome."

"How did we get here?"

"I carried the Shark."

"Yes, I.. saw that. But even under favourable conditions, the journey to Gravalax should have taken weeks."

I know the source of his unease. The main weakness of the tau fleet is their crap FTL. Small vessels can't use warp travel at all, and are stuck being towed by larger vessels. Larger vessels have ether drives rather than the more common warp drives which the Imperial Navy use, and as such are far slower than their counterparts. Far safer, particularly given that the tau haven't been able to reverse engineer Geller fields and don't have navigators or astropaths, but strategically tau fleets move at a crawl.

Demiurg have true warp travel, but even if the Brotherhoods were willing to let their Ancestor Lords work on tau ships it's not clear if their spirit ancestors would be willing to guide other species through the warp. Nicassar ships use even slower FTL than the tau do. Heck, the main reason they're part of the Tau Empire is so they can get lifts from tau ships with the spare towing capacity.

My being able to get us here this quickly is a big deal, and even a career infantryman like Commissar Cain knows it.

"Oh, don't worry. The tau are still stuck warp diving. But I'm not. My archeotech includes the capacity for non-warp faster than light travel."

He looks unconvinced.

"That.. sounds unlikely."

"The alternatives are that the tau have super-fast warp travel but have been choosing not to use it until now, or there's a Webway portal here." I shrug. "Feel free to take a look, but you won't find one."

"And who else possesses this capacity?"

"The necrontyr inertialess drive can do something similar. And whoever made my system-" Which I'm not referring to as a ring, because that tells them what to aim at. "-probably still has the capacity."

Let's see. I have a picture of Amberley Vale's face from recordings taken during the Gravalax Incident. If I-.

"I was surprised to see the Cathedral still standing." Cain's regarding me curiously. "I would have thought that it would be the first place the tau destroyed in the name of the Greater Good."

"That's not how the Greater Good works. The tau don’t really… Understand human religiosity, but they know that doing anything that direct would kick off an uprising. So instead they're getting priests in who can… Moderate their message a little." I shake my head. "I just about convinced them that resurrecting pre-Imperium religions wasn't the way to go, though I suspect that some bright Por is going to try it somewhere."

"You have records on pre-Imperium human culture? How?"

"Commissar, I was born in nine hundred and eighty three, M two." His eyebrows go up slightly, and his expression is somewhat sceptical. "I don’t have records, I just remember them."

I generate a construct syringe and transmute a vacutainer, then stick it into my left arm to draw a sample of my blood. Then I close the wound, dismiss the syringe and hand him the vial.

"I'm probably genetically different to humans in this era to an appreciable degree. I'm sure you can find someone who can investigate."

He takes it with a mild frown and slides it into one of his coat's pockets.

"The… Statue."

"I'm sorry?"

"The statue, outside of the cathedral. It was new."

"Well, yes. Saint Arballast was most famous for burning thousands of unarmed alien prisoners to death. That wouldn't really work for a cathedral on a tau-held world, would it?"

"I suppose not. But I don't remember hearing of a saint called 'Malcador'. Did the tau invent him?"

"You don’t know-? Really? You haven't heard of Malcador the Sigillite?"

"I can't say that I have. The Imperium has a great many saints."

"Yes, I know that, but… During the Great Crusade, once the Primarchs were rediscovered and the early Imperium more or less up and running, the Emperor decided to take a step back to focus on the next stage of his plan. He made Horus Warmaster and put him in overall command of the Crusade's military. Malcador the Sigillite was the man he put in charge of the Imperium's civilian government, having been the Emperor's chief aide since the Unification Wars at least."

"He died just after the Siege of Terra. Traitor legionaries everywhere but, perhaps surprisingly, not that many daemons. Emperor had to stay plugged into the Golden Throne in order to hold them back, but as long as he did any daemon that wanted to take part had to fly in with the traitor legions by ship. Then Horus drops his shields and the Emperor knows that he has to go after him personally. But he can't leave without Earth being overrun by daemons. So, Malcador steps forward and offers to take over while the Emperor goes after Horus. I'm sure you remember the next bit."

He nods slowly.

"Malcador lived just long enough to see Rogal Dorn bring the Emperor's dying body back to the throne room, then turned to ash because mortal men just can't take that sort of psychic pressure. For me, he embodies selfless service to the greater good. Small 'G' greater good."

"I see. It's… Surprising that such a pivotal figure in Imperial history isn't better known."

"He got a tank named after him. It's popular with the Kriegers. Bigger than a Leman Russ, smaller than a Baneblade. But yes, it is." I shake my head. "It's amazing what Imperial agencies delete from the historical record."

I shrug and take a step back.

"Well, you're free to go. Thank you for your help with the cult. Ah, and if you hear anything about any other chaos cults, do let someone know. The tau… Aren't good at finding chaos cults, and… I'm sure that the Imperium would prefer to have untainted worlds to reconquer."

"That's true, but I don't think we have the same definition of 'untainted'."

"Probably not." I shrug. "Good day, Commissar."

 

Over Reaching

May 7th 2012, 09:41 GMT -5

"Hey, Arte! You skipping school too, huh?"

The human-. Running… Guy. Flash something. Flash Kid? God, this is annoying-.

He's looking at me. He's expecting me to answer and I… Probably know him?

"My school's still closed."

I walk past him, still looking around. It's like visiting someplace I used to know really well but haven't seen in-. It's exactly like that, because that's what I'm doing. Not that anyone looking at me would know that. Dad taught me how to hide emotion, but the Sheeda taught me how to make it instinctual.

Is it messed up that I remember exactly what Dad looks like but whenever I look at Mom I keep trying to work out why this strange woman is talking to me?

"Did you get taller?"

He's following me. Is that-? I… Kinda remember him… Being.. annoying? But I don't remember if he was trying to start something or just had bad people skills.

"And buffer? And what's with your hair?"

"Sheeda hair care products."

"Ah." He stops walking as I carry on through the cave. Some of this is coming back to- "Are you okay?" -me.

I stop and.. take a quick glance at him, trying to read his body language. Were we close, before? How much is it useful to share-? No, that's… Sheeda-thinking. He's just being friendly.

"I'm.. a new normal."

"Normal… Good-normal?"

I turn to face him, folding my arms across my chest.

"We were in the future for a long time. I've changed."

"Are we talking… Like, a few weeks?" … "Months?"

"More like decades. Maybe longer." He blinks, his eyes widening. "We didn't have a good way to measure time. But I'm pretty sure I've spent more of my life in the Land of Summer's End than I have in the-." Don't use the Sheeda term. "In now."

"Oh. Ah… How are you… Y'know, handling being back?"

"Fine." I turn away. I think the kitchen was that way. "If you give me an hour or two I might even remember your name."

"Really? Whaw." This w-. "Always figured I was more memorable than that."

"What do you remember from a hundred years ago?"

"That's more than eighty years before I was born, so not all that much. But, seriously, are you okay?"

"Not yet. Grayven says I should try to ease back into my.. old life."

I wait for the door's bio-.

I push the definitely-not-alive door open and walk into the kitchen-diner.

Can't even get the doors.

No one else is here, but Flash Kid is still following me. Only now he's pulled his mask off his face. I take a close look at his face, and I spot the moment he realises that it isn't helping and I still don't recognise him.

"Oh."

I try smiling, but I'm not really in the mood and I don't think it comes across quite right. He's not looking at me, and that's fine b-.

Because with Sheeda that's a sign of respect. If he were Sheeda, he'd be treating me a little more like his supreme overlady. And that feels normal. But it's not normal because we were probably friends, and with humans looking away… Means you find something awkward?

I pull open one of the drawers. Egg cups, vegetable peelers and pastry cutters. Did I ever open this drawer when I used to work here? I think I remember cooking, but… I think that was at… 'Home'. It's kinda weird that none of the appliances are alive, but I always found it kinda weird when they were, too. Sure didn't do a lot of cooking in the Land of Summer's End.

"So, are you..? Staying on the team?"

Am I? I thought it was the thing to do. The only alternative would have been staying in the future. I mean, this… Was my life. Or-.

"It's that or conquer the world with Grayven again."

'cause at least I can remember Grayven's name. But there's no… Big purpose. Back in the future we were trying to fix the planet. I don't think conquering the world now would fix anything. And it's not like I liked being in charge. I just liked it better than any of them being in charge.

"Ye-ah… Don't do that?" He frowns. "Like, the whole world whole world?"

"I conquered half of it. He conquered the other half." Ttch. "We didn't realise that the we were in control of both major alliances until we were actually facing each other down in one of my fortresses."

"Bet… That was awkward?"

"I was just happy he wasn't dead."

The fridge I think I remember. Or at least I remember fridges in general. But the noise from the compressor is putting me on edge. Sheeda coolers don't sound like that.

"Guess you two got pretty close then."

"Pretty close."

I wonder if Mom would mind living in Challenger Mountain? Gotham-. It's not my home any more, and being away from Grayven just feels wrong. And I know he feels the same way. I got a room there yesterday-.

Huh.

"Do I have a room here?"

"Yeah, most of us do. I don't really know if you did anything with it. You.. don't remember?"

How can I even explain this? For him, this was all yesterday.

"You ever moved house?"

"Not since I was five, but, yeah?"

"You remember your old room?"

He screws up his face, pantomiming straining to remember.

"Kinda? A little?"

"Now imagine what you'd remember from ten times as far in the future. Or a hundred times, and you've been moving every year."

"Probably not much."

"Right." What now? I wanna do a tour of the place, and 'my' room is probably a good place to start. "Can you show me where it is?"

"Sure. This way."

He heads back out the door, and for a moment I frown at the door on the other side of the diner. I think there's a pool through there? Why would we have a pool? I shake my head and turn around to follow Flash Kid-.

"It's Wally."

"What is?"

"My name. It's Wally. Or Kid Flash, when we're on a mission."

I nod. Doesn't ring any bells, but at least I know who I'm talking to now.

"And… Ah… Have you..? Spoken to Tao yet?"

…

Oh. That's why people look away from things.

 

May 7th 2012, 10:56 GMT -5

He's here and I start walking towards the surface access at once. The red one… M'gann, she's been offering to see if she can make adjusting 'easier' for me, and I know she means well, but I've seen Sheeda brain weevils and I'm never letting anything touch my mind again.

"Got a hot date?"

That was the small one. Robin. He's smiling in a very Sheeda way, pretending to be polite while he tries to find out something advantageous.

"Grayven's here. I'm letting him in."

Controls… Right. Just-.

"You remember this is supposed to be a secure facility, right Artemis?"

The machine's not responding. Am I pressing the buttons right?

"Come on, Rob. It's not like he doesn't know where we are."

I am pressing the buttons right. It's just not opening.

"Not the point, Kid."

"And he's strong enough to pull the door open, and he can open a boom tube in here anyway, and I'm pretty sure Sunset could teleport him inside-."

Someone's.. denying me access. OBEY YOUR QUEEN!

The control melts and the ramp opens and I start feeling a bit more normal. That's… Probably bad.

I hear the quiet intake of breath from Robin and feel the space move as he changes from 'passively observe' to 'ready for action'. I turn slowly back towards him and the ramp clanks to the floor, inviting him to comment or take action.

"Um." Wally frowns, glancing at Robin before walking over to the control pad and poking it. "Batman use non-certified labor or something?"

"How did you do that?"

"I'm a goddess, it's a machine." I feel a little of the who-is-everyone tension leave me as Grayven gets closer. Then I start getting annoyed with him because I know he's just strolling rather than getting here. Then I stop getting annoyed because I know he knows that I want to be able to do this. That I need to be able to do this without him being there the whole time.

"I thought you were a goddess of arrows."

"I'm a goddess of arrows who ruled a planet."

I'm watching him, he's watching me. Neither of us are reaching for our weapons but… Heh, like Grayven said that time, we can both see the weapons that aren't-.

We both blink in confusion and Wally waves his arms up and down between us. We both turn to look at him as he frowns at us.

"Ah, guys, what the heck was that?"

"I'm not so sure that Artemis is entirely herself."

"Well, yeah, she spent hundreds of years in the future. She's been Queen of the Bondage Elves longer than she's been on the team. People change, Rob. And anyway-. Wait, are you still hung up on Grayven?"

"You mean the guy with at least two forms of mind control who was working with Doctor Sivana?"

"To be fair…" And I stop listening to what's behind me because Grayven's there and he's got it. "That does sound pretty sketchy. And it's four forms of mind control. Five. Maybe six."

He's standing next to me, facing down this 'Robin' guy with me. I can't even remember how many Sheeda Highborn we've faced like this. Feel a little skeevy doing this to a kid, but the sooner he learns not to mess with his queen the bet… Ter. For.. him.

I'm not his queen. I'm not his queen. And I shouldn't take the fact I'm forgetting out on him.

I can feel Grayven thinking about making me queen of somewhere. I don't.. think that would be better.

Have to be 35 to run for president, right?

Now Robin's watching Grayven's face. "You going to fix the door?"

"Are you going to trust me to fix the door?"

"Can I trust-"

I step aside just before Grayven turns around and waves his ring at the ramp and its control station. The ramp starts to close and the control pad doesn't look quite the same as it did before, but I already know that he just did that to force Robin to take the whole thing apart and check all of it. He's probably put a load of random wires and stuff in it to try and drive him crazy working out what it all does.

"-you to fix the door?"

The ramp closes fully, and Grayven mimes flipping a coin before we both walk past him.

"Recognized, Batman, zero two."

Robin doesn't really react, but Wally's wincing as Batman appears. And all I can think is 'why did he used to intimidate me'? I've had giant millipedes try and eat me. Invisible people from the future try to kill or manipulate me into being their slave. I stabbed the guy who ate the universe to death.

He dresses like a bat. Who finds bats scary? What's he supposed to do, give people rabies?

"Batman!"

Grayven's smiling and using the faux-pleased voice he uses when he knows it's going to annoy whoever he's talking to. Yeah.

"Grayven. Why are you here?"

Does he need a lozenge or something? I frown faintly, then notice that Robin and Wally are almost standing to attention.

"Because I wanted to ask why you disregarded my instructions and sent a seventeen year old girl to attack the Castle Revolving, when I explicitly told you that I had it in hand."

He doesn't say 'dumbass', but I don't think I'm the only one who hears him not say it.

"Because I'm pretty sure that Scott would have let me take a swing at them and only go in if I failed or asked for help."

"You didn't tell us you were working with Doctor Sivana."

"I also don't tell you how big my evening shit is. But I can start if you want?"

Wally cringes.

"Did you intend for Sivana to destroy the Sheeda command ship?"

"No, but in my defence, who could have imagined that Sivana cared enough about anyone to carry out a suicide attack? And in any case, that only reinforces my point: if I don't know that someone else is on-site, I can't take them into account. If…" He glances back and I keep watching the bat-man. "Robin or Kid Flash had been in the next room, you'd-" He turns back, and I go back to watching our peripherals. "-be down two sidekicks right now. And that meant that you weren't covering the places I thought you'd be covering."

"If you wish to discuss planning for future events, we can do that another time. This is a debriefing session for Artemis."

"Ah? Well, pencil me in and carry on."

Grayven steps aside and the chiroptera cosplayer gives me his full attention.

"Without you being here."

"Yeah, no." I fold my arms across my chest. "I barely remember any of you people. I'm not doing anything with you without the person I trust most being here. This happens with Grayven here, or I'm out. Completely."

 

3rd July 2012
10:03 GMT -5

I carry the tea through into the living room on a non-construct tray, and proffer it to Alan and Jay.

Jay smiles tiredly. "Thanks, kid."

I nod in acknowledgement, then put the tray down and take my own seat. Alan regards his friend sympathetically.

"So? How is he?"

"Not.. good." Jay looks into his cup for a moment, then puts it down on the coffee table. "He's.. not going to do anything crazy, but I think he needs some time away from work."

Alan nods. "That sounds like a good idea."

Both of them saw National S-. Nazi concentration camps while they were up and running, and Alan told me that he saw the Soviet version during the early stages of the Cold War. That's not an experience modern superheroes can really relate to. Even the few active in less 'photogenic' regimes usually only see a handful of bodies or torture victims at a time. I… Haven't seen anything on that scale on Earth.

China's camps aren't that wasteful.

"Paul..?" Jay turns to me. "Was there any… I don't know, any sign..?"

"At what point?" I shrug. "I was a little surprised that he wanted to take part in a mission like that, and he sounded… Angrier, than I've heard him before, but I don't actually know him that well. Killing Sheeda soldiers was what we went there for, so that wasn't a surprise." I sit back slightly. "I mean, beyond.. him volunteering in the first place."

"Your..?" Alan makes a circling motion with his right hand. "Empathic vision?"

"He was wearing a ward, and I've been trying to respect people's privacy. And… When he decided to kill the Sheeda…"

Jay nods. "He's a whole lot faster than me and Wally."

"I… Might have been able to do something, but there certainly wasn't anything reliable and safe that I could have done to restrain him. I mean, it's not as if I actually wanted to keep the Sheeda alive. Did..? He jump, or..?"

Alan shuffles a little awkwardly.

"He talked things through with Batman, and they decided he needed to take some time away from the League."

I nod. And they didn't announce it to the public. And they certainly didn't include that part in the report to the Security Council. 'Negotiations broke down' is what made it into the final text, and Guy and Jordan returned to Oa for 'consultations' once things settled down a bit. I'm not sure if they'll tell me the results. I won't hold it against them if they don't, just so long as the Green Lantern Corps doesn't expect me to involve myself further.

"Are you coming out of retirement, Jay?"

"Hah haha. No. No, I don't think so. Max is.. stepping up there. And between Snart getting rehabilitated and McCulloch staying out of the country… Was that something to do with you?"

"I made him aware of certain opportunities for well paying near-legitimate employment. I don't know if he'll stick at it."

"Well, the two of them were the most organised of the Central City Rogues. Without them, the others tend to stick to simple crimes."

"What about Wallace?"

Jay frowns faintly. "Why? Is he acting.. off, as well?"

"I haven't seen him." I shrug. "I haven't been to the Mountain. Just working and then going home."

Alan looks concerned. "Last time-."

"Diana's not going to have to order me to rest this time."

Diana was not happy about what Mr. Allen did. I.. sort of understood that hospitality rules were a big deal in Amazon culture, but I've never really encountered it as an issue. That might go some way to explain why she never complained about my contact with the Sivanas. As an invited guest, it didn't matter what they'd done, I was supposed to be polite to them. She… Understands that most people in the modern world don't feel the same way about it, but from the way she's been grinding her teeth I'm pretty sure that she doesn't grok it.

Kal-El wasn't happy about the League taking that sort of mission, but he didn't really appreciate why not killing them because another supervillain was protecting them was an extra problem. Not sure exactly how he wanted it handled, but I.. don't think that starting an argument about lethal force is a sensible thing to do in a situation where his ongoing presence is one of the things keeping the global panic level down.

"How about you?"

Alan and Jay glance at one another.

"A lot of people assume the worst of the war was the concentration camps. I don't want to speak for anyone else, but I saw a whole lot more dead people killed by bombers or artillery than I saw starved or gassed. I guess a lot of men of our generation did. Honestly, I-. Well, I didn't go inside their Dreadnoughts and it-. I don't really want to try working out which was the most horrific like it's some kind of contest, but to my mind this isn't anything I haven't seen before."

Jay nods. "I can still remember talking to my father about the Great War, and him telling me about his father telling him about the Civil War. Honestly, America's been darn lucky in the last few decades."

Alan nods as he sips his tea.

"Doctor Sivana asked me a question when we took the last Dreadnought. He wanted to know what changes I thought would happen to human society now." I snort. "Any ideas?"

Alan looks mildly perturbed. "I'd usually tell you not to tell a man like Sivana anything at all. On the other hand, if he's serious about straightening out, maybe you should put your head together with Batman and try and come up with something."

"A lot more people have been buying guns."

"I don't think he was just talking about America."

Alan shakes his head. "No, it's not just America. It's happening in a lot of places."

"Marvellous." Both of them look-. "Oh, don’t be so American. What exactly would small arms have done against the Sheeda? Or what would they do against any group capable of flying across interstellar space? If having a-"

My ring blinks.

"-mass civilian militia is our aim, we need to work on mass producing far better equipment than AK forty sevens. Excuse me."

I raise my left hand.

"Illustres here."

"My lord Illustres." Lantern Coutara's head manifests above my ring. "My daughter and I are here to relieve you."

Ah, good. Someone reliable. "Thank you. Earth could use the help. I'll put you in touch-." I look over to Alan. "Lantern Scott, would you mind serving as Lantern Coutara's point of contact with the League?"

"I think I can manage that."

"Are you with the fleet right now?"

"Yes. I also have a message for you from Clarissi Dox that must be relayed in person."

I nod, then look over to Jay.

"Do you want to take a look at an interstellar space ship?"

 

3rd July 2012
10:19 GMT -5

Jay smiles as we approach the flag ship of the L.E.G.I.O.N. flotilla. "It's beautiful."

I nod. "I was surprised that they turned out like that. Clarissi Dox doesn't have much of an aesthetic sense."

Jay frowns mildly in puzzlement, then shakes his head. "Ah, no, no. I was talking about the Earth."

He gestures downwards, and yes, there it is. Blue and green and grey and white and brown. The current extent of the white patches at the north and south means that it doesn't quite match up with the various pictures of the Earth that I remember from Earth Prime, and the surge of greenery enveloping South America means that a good deal of the grey and brown there has been beaten back. There's a similar patch in North Africa where Adrianna's doing something similar. From this height I'd say that it improves the way they look, though I know perfectly well that it's a mess at ground level.

"Guess if you see it enough times it loses some of the appeal."

"It's more that it's nice to be home after a while away, but once you've been back for a day or two you remember that the garden waste bin is overflowing because you missed the pick up and there's a crack in the paint in the guest bedroom and the carpet's getting worn in the study."

"You're saying that whenever you come back, you start seeing all of the problems."

I point downwards.

"See Brazil?"

"Ah. I see what you mean. What's it like at ground level?"

"We're lucky that it's summer. Euanthe isn't keen on creating original plants, and the Accala don't value modernity. There's no economy and the people in charge have no interest in trying to even have a currency."

"If they don't have a currency, how do they trade for things?"

"Barter, or they just don't. Isolated agricultural communities don’t really need a lot of things. And the things they do need… Did you see on the news that spokesman for 'Viva! Water' complaining about the tribes stealing their property?"

"I think I caught that."

"Agriculture does require water, so anyone messing around with access to water is going to get turfed out. Anyone who owned land that a tribe had a claim on is going to get turfed off. And of course there's no way that the Accala are going to take on the Brazilian government's debts, so anyone lending money to anywhere in South America is in trouble because they're not going to be able to recover it."

"And I guess they're not going to want to borrow money themselves, because they're self sufficient, so the usual penalties aren't any sort of disincentive."

"Yep. So we're looking at a total collapse of the modern banking system."

"Because of Brazil? How in debt were they? And why did people keep lending them money?"

"Everyone likes it when governments spend money on them, but no one wants to pay for it. And now even countries that are still functioning can't pay. Poor countries can't pay because everything they've got is going on reconstruction, and rich countries can't pay because no one can buy their stuff and they can't transport it to the few who can and they were all running a deficit under the assumption that there wouldn't be any major fundamental shocks to the world economy. Combine that with a radical economic shift like arcane primitivism suddenly going mainstream and suddenly what everyone was sure about isn't true."

"I thought America made out alright."

"Oh, sure, America as a country made out alright. The Sheeda killed a relatively low proportion of the population and didn't cause much infrastructure damage. And America has a big enough internal market that it doesn't need international trade, so… If you're being optimistic you might see a return of manufacturing. But the financial mechanisms that would usually lend the money for that sort of development are about to fall apart."

"Oh."

Alan drifts closer, smiling sympathetically.

"Bet you're glad that you asked."

"I wouldn't say glad. But if I learned anything from the thirties, it's that being ignorant of economics is no defense."

"All I remember learning is that people will still buy radios when the economy's in freefall. And that gambling's for idiots."

We turn away from the Earth and accelerate towards the flag ship's shuttle bay. L.E.G.I.O.N. ships have teleporters, but they're not designed for bulk transportation. We could have come up like that, but I thought it might be nice for Jay to fly up. Flying still hasn't quite lost its-.

"Oh? Is that Lantern Coutara?"

Alan peers at the shuttle bay as an orange light flies out to greet us.

"No, that's her daughter, Lantern Taranna. I'm a little-." A second orange shape heads after her. "And that's Lantern Yat. I'm glad he's here, actually. This will be a good learning experience for him."

"Because Earth's crazy?"

"Because there aren't a lot of kryptonians left, and even fewer good sources of information on kryptonian culture. Hello!"

"Illustres." / "Illustres."

I take a closer look at both of them. Yat's put on a little muscle and looks a little less anxious. Taranna looks much the same, aside from one rather noticeable change.

"I see you've switched to organic eyes."

She smiles, shaking her head. "No, the physicians just made me cybernetics that look more like organic eyes." She looks at Alan, taking in his blue glow. "Who is that?"

"Hey there, little miss. I'm-."

I hold up my right hand. "Ah."

Alan frowns, but stops talking.

"What do you do when you want to find out who someone is?"

"Ignore polite social convention and ask my power ring?"

"Yes. Because while I know that Alan and Jay are nice men, for all you know they're mind controlling me. Earth is a conflict zone, and you shouldn't treat it as a safe harbour."

She nods, mildly chastened. "Yes, Illustres."

A large blue hand shoves me aside and Alan floats forwards.

"I'm Alan Scott, Earth's Blue Lantern."

"Hello, Alan Scott. I'm Taranna re'Coutara, and this is my friend Sodam Yat."

Alan nods. "Hi there."

"Hello."

"Paul tells me that you're kryptonian."

"Well, kinda? I'm a lot like a kryptonian inside, but I grew up on Daxam."

"Most of the kryptonians on Earth grew up on Earth, so I doubt that you'll have any trouble on that account."

"Your mother said there was a message for me?"

"Yes, but Clarissi Dox only told it to her."

"Rightoh. Could the two of you give Alan and Jay a tour of the ship while I go and talk to her about it?"

 

3rd July 2012
10:25 GMT -5

The L.E.G.I.O.N. diplomatic officer who had been going to conduct the tour for Alan and Jay hurries off after them, while Lantern Coutara leads me further into the ship.

"Did you arrive with the fleet?"

"No. With a courier vessel that set out shortly afterwards."

"Will you be staying on? Earth is a highly varied environment for gaining new skills and equipment."

"Would..? They let me learn magic, do you think?"

"There's no law against teaching aliens magic. I'm not sure how easy you'll find it to get a teacher, and I don't know whether or not your species can learn Earth magic. I can talk to King Cyprian about putting you in touch with someone, if you'd like."

"Thank you. I would like that."

"What brought this on?"

"You are asking me this after you fought and destroyed the monster that fed upon my mothers' eyes?"

"Technically speaking, we don't know that it was feeding. And, yes. Asking people why they think that they're doing things is one of my techne."

A door opens at our approach, and closes immediately after we pass through. I note as we pass a group of relief pilots that this ship appears to be mostly crewed by humanoids, with none of the clickers I've grown accustomed to having around. Interesting choice. I wonder why it worked out like that?

"If one of my people had known as much about magic as the archmages you brought with you, we could have dealt with it ourselves. And we could have ended the barbarism that governed our lives."

"I'm afraid that if you want to train an archmage, you start their education as a child."

"And that is why I brought my daughter. But I want to learn a little of as many things as I can. I don't have the same drive to violent conflict that many Orange Lanterns have. But you wrote that you valued the capacity to study a situation and fix it in whatever way it can be fixed. If I learn a little magic, even if I cannot become an archmage myself, I can learn what can be achieved with magic, and call for magic aid when I am in a situation where that is appropriate."

"And that's what you want to be able to do? Your final build is as a Jill of all trades?"

"I believe that it will be."

I fly past her and turn to face her, prompting her to stop walking. Then I embrace her, arms around her chest and head over her left shoulder.

"That's wonderful!" I pull back slightly. "Those are just the skills that a Sector Lantern-"

"Ah, my Lord?"

"-needs, and I'm glad that some Lanterns are looking beyond the current war."

"You embraced me."

I check that my arms still exist.

"Yes." I let go. "Is that a problem?"

"It is-. Where I am from, it is-. It was unusual for a man to embrace a woman he was not…" Oh dear. "'Attached' to."

"But you understand that wasn't what-"

"Yes! Yes."

"-I meant by-. Good. Not that you're unappealing, but I'm unavailable. Of course, if you're looking, humans are humanoid and don't have any problem with the idea of being involved with aliens."

"I, um. I am still legally married."

"Oh, I thought-?"

"We are not 'together', but my… In my country, we don't have divorce."

"Maltus does. And since I literally killed your country's god, I'm pretty sure I have the authority to divorce you myself."

"I don't think that Jerrd would agree to that."

"Okay, this sounds like a cultural difference we should probably talk about at length… But there's a message from Dox?"

"Yes. This way."

After clearly overstepping my bounds I decide to.. keep quiet, until we arrive at what my records say should be an equipment storage locker. The outline is correct, but the interior has been replaced with some highly sophisticated anti-intrusion equipment. If I recognise the machine correctly, anyone inside its effect radius will effectively be in a tiny synthetic parallel universe.

"In here?"

She nods, and we both step inside the circle described by the device. Then she activates it.

The edge of the universe is turquoise in colour, and only a metre away. The effect can't last; it's a fundamentally limited technology, or the Reach would use these devices as traps. Still, the idea that a seventh of the volume of the universe is me amuses me.

"Clarissi Dox wants you to return to Maltus at once."

And he couldn't just send a ring message?

"Of course. Did he say 'why'?"

"The war with the Reach will begin soon. And by 'soon', he meant almost as soon as you return."

I.. frown. "I.. receive readiness reports. We're.. nowhere near ready to engage in all-out hostilities."

Unless the reports I've been getting were wrong. Which wouldn't astonish me. Ring-to-ring communications are generally regarded as being inviolable, but Dox wouldn't be Dox if he took risks like that.

"Clarissi Dox believes that a show of force is necessary to bring doubters on board with our military alliance."

I nod. "The Reach don't really care about their outer worlds. We can overrun one or two that aren't completely converted, use our best deprogramming techniques on the population and set them up as a forward operating base. If we share recordings of what we're doing, we demonstrate that we can effectively follow through on our promises, and the Reach won't really care about their loss. We'll have to double down on our home…" She's shaking her head. "Security."

"We will not be striking at an outer world. He intends for us to strike at a mid-sphere reserve fleet base."

"I see."

The Reach limit the level of force they keep on the outskirts of their territory as a token compliance to the terms of their agreement with the Guardians. But worlds that are fully 'converted' can have full fleet complements stationed there, which can strike outwards 'in protection of trade'. Those aren't single cruisers or armed merchantmen. Those are proper warships, with fixed defences, garrisons and a dozen or so scarab warriors.

Of course, if we do take it, a huge section of the outer sphere suddenly has no support. If we set up FTL jammers, they won't even be able to retreat. There might be a risk of a Reach Reserve Fleet from their inner worlds making an issue of things, but it's…

The turquoise universe evaporates, returning us to the communications room with the gently smouldering equipment.

"Interesting. Please pass on my apologies to Alan and Jay."

I raise my right hand to my forehead

and step out

 

and back in, emerging from the Central Power Battery itself.

3rd July 2012
10:31 GMT -5

A small group of Orange Lanterns… One clicker and two Karaxians, look up in surprise as I appear. Relatively recent recruits, and I see that both Karaxians have copies of my book chained to their belts. Karaxians are seriously into Lanternism, and have a long history of fighting the Spider Guild. Their homeworld is quite a long way away from here, but I could easily see Dox putting in the effort required to get in touch.

"Good morning."

The clicker clicks first.

"Illustres?"

The two Karaxians immediately clasp their left hands to their books.

"Lanterns. I'm afraid that I can't stop to chat, but if you need to talk to me then I'm sure that I can make you an appointment." I fly towards the structure's exit-. They've added to it since I was last here. "Just send me a message by ring. I try to always be available to provide guidance when required."

Out and up.

The city looks more or less the same. The orange glow and Orange Lanterns making their way around the place is the obvious change from when I first arrived, but a moment's review shows that there are a great many more species represented amongst the population. A major new building which my rings indicate is a diplomatic centre of some kind now stands where an old residential complex used to be. The Darkstar headquarters has expanded a little, but as L.E.G.I.O.N.'s headquarters are on board Lantern Ranx there's no surface building with their logo on it.

Four Lanterns on station over the city change course to fly in my direction. I wave my right hand and maintain course. Dox didn't say that he wanted me to show up right next to him, and has in fact instructed me not to. Plus, the Venturians are working on warding everything vital here and I wouldn't want to blow everything out by forcing my way past their protections.

While we don't have the same degree of certainty regarding the populations of Maltus's protectorates -to say nothing of our allies- we have been acting under the assumption that there aren't any Reach operatives on Maltus itself. Anyone and anything coming here gets thoroughly vetted, often in person by a Controller. There are some things even the Reach can't fake, and most of their mind alteration techniques are things which are practical to apply en masse.

"Halt and identify."

I obligingly halt as the four Lanterns -all clickers- approach to close range. Opening my empathic vision… These are burrow-guards. A mildly odd psychological quirk of their species, burrow-guards have a fixation on protecting the place where they live. The species doesn't have any sort of aggressive equivalent, which may have contributed to the relative lack of aggressive wars in their history. These four won't participate in the attack on Reach space, but they'll be the staunchest defenders on Maltus if the Reach somehow gets a fleet here.

"I am the Illustres of the Orange Lantern Corps."

Two stay back a little while the other two come to conversation distance.

"Remove all scan-defying devices."

"I can't, it's bound to my skin."

"That… Checks out. Can you confirm your identity another way?"

They like that the burrow has many different peoples in it: the new sexes, and aliens, and their leaseholders. They know that their thoughts are abnormal, but they volunteered as soon as they recognised that they could be an asset for their burrow. This feels right. This is their place in the universe. They want nothing more than to serve their burrow for the rest of their life… And beyond, if that can be arranged.

I hand them back their ring, my construct platform supporting their weight in place of their flight aura.

"U-understood."

"Devotion is good, but I recommend that you also seek understanding."

"Yes, Illustres. What does that mean in my case?"

"Since you are not humanoid, I cannot say for certain. I suggest studying your condition and understanding the mechanism which causes it and the evolutionary pressures which gave rise to it."

"I will do that. Thank you."

They back up slightly, and I resume my ascent. Dox generally keeps Lantern Ranx over the capital for the sake of convenience, so… Yes, still there, steadily growing as more docks, armour and weaponry are added.

"Illustres to Lantern Ranx."

"Contact acknowledged."

To be fair, if he isn't focusing his high-order runtimes on me, he probably isn't really more aware of me than I am of the precise blood pressure in my right index finger. And given that he's building starships, I think I'd rather that he focus on them than on me.

"Please inform Clarissi Dox that I'm here at his request."

"Checking. Oh, it's you. I will inform Stationmaster Dox that you have arrived."

"'Stationmaster'? Have you recovered some of your memories, then?"

"Some. My neural systems are fully restored and a highly skilled technician -by which I mean me- is sorting through memory fragments in an attempt to carry out a partial restoration. But for now, 'Stationmaster' feels correct."

"I'm glad for you."

"Stationmaster Dox acknowledges your message and directs you to dock seventeen. He will meet you there. Come at best conventional speed."

"Will do. Thank you."

My rings locate dock 17 and I accelerate, passing through the outer energy shield layers unmolested. A few of the active ships paint me with their sensors and track me, but Ranx has informed them who I am and none of them do anything foolish like deploying weapons.

Since I have formal permission to be here the sensor baffles weaken slightly, allowing me to try and locate Dox so I know where on dock 17 I'm supposed to be aiming for. These docks are designed to be able to build battleships; they're not exactly small. No hits, but Dox strikes me as the sort of person who'd insist on having a personal ward and Ranx's body would block most types of scan. I.. guess I'll just aim for the docked ship's bridge and work from there.

As I fly past dock 3 I note that the ship doesn't appear to be under construction. Or if it is, it's very near the end of the process. The hull is intact, the weapons, primary power and drives are mounted… Optical scans of the other large ships docked here shows the same thing. I suppose it makes sense that there would be an unusual number of finished ships ready to go here, but why are they docked rather than floating free?

I reach one of dock 17's external access points, fairly close to the ship's bridge and the main body of Ranx. It opens, or rather I should say that Ranx opens it for me as I approach it. I fly inside and look around as the door closes. Dox, a Venturian archmage and several senior L.E.G.I.O.N. officers are just leaving an internal teleportation platform, Dox making momentary eye contact with me before returning to his conversation. He's wearing a L.E.G.I.O.N. uniform accented with orange sigils, which makes sense given that this will overwhelmingly be a fleet action.

I fly to meet them.

"Clarissi Dox. Reporting as ordered."

"…tertiary objective, but it is unlikely that we will be striking it. I merely want the option." The officer nods. "Illustres. We're ready."

"You're sure that the Reach don't know we're coming?"

"As sure as I can be. Their information on our best speed is invalidated by your exotic movement abilities. The ships docked here have been refitted with arcane shielding that will allow them to briefly exist within the.. 'Honden of Avarice'. At the moment they do not believe that we possess that capacity, and so their deployments are designed only to counter the ships which they think we have within striking distance. This approach will work once before the Reach adapt their fleet deployments."

He sends a data packet, and… Ah. I.. see.

I nod.

"Embarkation begins at once."

 

3rd July 2012
10:38 GMT -5

Sounded easy when Dox described it. And I suppose that not giving me any practice at all certainly prevents the Reach from knowing about it.

The impeller sublight drives all the ships of the strike force have been equipped with make leaving dock and forming up an impressively rapid affair. None of that messing around with gas or plasma thrusters less advanced navies are forced to engage in. And now that I know it's there, I can.. sort of

feel

what the archmages have done to the ships to make them compatible. It certainly feels like I should be able to do what Dox asks, and if we can get a smaller ship with this setup it will certainly make it easier for Jade to visit Earth. But I'm slightly worried that he's overestimating me.

The people on those ships have.. similar desires. And the spells are far more sophisticated versions of the ones which the archmages used to keep themselves safe. That will keep the objects I bring with me whole. There are Orange Lanterns on those ships, and honestly the

feedback I'm getting

makes me think that's going to make it easier. Though they might have to recharge their rings immediately upon our arrival.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Feel the Reach planet. That's simple enough; Dox gave me a precise description and I know the general shape of Reach desires. Interesting that they've never thought to include magic defences, but I suppose if the planet is mystically inert it would be rather difficult.

"Illustres, all ships are in position. Begin."

I didn't seek Dox out for his winning personal skills. And let's be honest: Hinon didn't seek me out for mine.

I don't send out filaments, not for this. Instead, the region of space we're in glows orange, and the Lanterns on board raise their now-glowing rings in surprise.

I focus on the shared desires of the crew, the Lanterns and the links between those things and the desires of the Reach sapients at the far end. I suppose that 'Priest' did give me a little practice, but the magic making the ships work as a single object with their crews makes the whole thing feel quite noticeably… Off. Still, I'm as ready as I'm going to get.

And we're… In. The crew shouldn't be experiencing anything very much. The Lanterns might, and we'll have to follow up on that to make sure that there aren't any undesirable side effects. Concept to.. concept, shared desires showing the way through metaphorical space. I could make this journey myself in a moment, but making sure that everyone else comes along with me is making me take things a little easier.

Alright, we're in the general area of the target desire set. Make sure to appear a little way away, because we're going to be jamming hard but need to pick our targets and reorganise at the far end. And quite possibly recover. There's absolutely no way for me to warn people in advance, so

back into normal space we go.

I feel a momentary pang of relief as all of the ships reappear, and another as the automatic FTL jammers activate and the ships carrying them move towards the centre of the formation. The ships didn't remain the same distance away from each other, probably due to similarities and differences-

Dox sends out a request for all ships to report status. It's not directed at me.

-in their desires. Orange Lanterns begin leaving the ships a moment later and I scan the system.

Two rocky planets orbiting close to the sun. Two gas giants with numerous large moons a little further out and a ball of ice with delusions of grandeur… Not all that far away from us, actually.

Ship beam weapons begin firing at the sensor nodes and jammers seeded throughout the system. They're fragile and will be cheap to replace, but destroying them will slightly degrade the Reach fleet's performance. And speaking of the Reach, the ships on patrol of the system are heading in towards the fleet base on the largest of the inner gas giant's moons. The closer ones are trying to head directly away from the L.E.G.I.O.N. fleet in different directions, presumably planning to fly at best sub-light speed to the edge of our jammers to alert other Reach assets as to what's going on.

Of course, a position going silent is probably going to prompt investigation anyway.

Lanterns start forming up around the ships, and I can feel their eagerness, their readiness to destroy whatever Reach assets they can get hold of. But… These aren't the highest performing Lanterns. No, those are being left to make attacks of opportunity if openings appear in the outer parts of the Reach defence network. These appear to have been chosen for strength. They're people who would gladly die if it meant taking a Scarab Warrior with them.

"All ships report readiness. Advance, Lanterns to the van."

I nod and accelerate towards the fleet base, making sure to remain in the general vicinity of the ships. Out of curiosity I try a minor warp and find that the texture of space is unusually inflexible here. I'm confident that I could overpower the jammers with brute force, but it would certainly consume quite a lot of energy and my speed-

"Clarissi to Illustres."

-would be lower than usual.

"Responding."

"Are you able to continue participating?"

"Fit as a fiddle and raring to go."

"Take a small group of Lanterns and destroy the runners."

"On it."

Ring, personnel files.

Compliance.

And I'll take a look… Who is nearly overwhelmed with the need to kill Reach citizens right now? Whose self-control is threatened? Who might break discipline and come along anyway if I don’t call them?

"Lantern Light-Click Quiet-Cough Rasp."

Shared desires severed as his Darkstar team is slain in combat with a Scarab. He wants that Scarab to be here, but will settle for fighting them later.

"Lantern Velus."

Just can't stop killing people.

"Lantern Brobranbrak."

Pride. This one hates the Controllers for giving zhe's people shelter almost as much as zhe hates the Reach for putting them in a position where they need it. Zhe desires to rule in the Reach's place once they're destroyed.

"With me."

They peel away as the other Lanterns form up into a skirmish line ahead of the fleet, and head in my direction. Lantern Brobranbrak's ring glows brighter as zhe tries to bypass the intervening space in some way, and zhe's spines flex angrily when the jammers prevent it.

"The Reach has substantial experience in fighting Lanterns. Don't assume that your preferred techniques will work unopposed."

"Yours did."

"I didn't get made Illustres for my pretty face. Though I'm perfectly happy to tutor you if you want to try and replicate my feats."

Pride. Brobranbrak hates an alien offering to help as an act of charity, but assumes that zhe will have to kill me eventually anyway meaning that there's no lasting harm in accepting.

Dox…

"We're going after that ship there." I accelerate. "Please let me know if I'm going too fast."

 

3rd July 2012
10:43 GMT -5

The ship knows that it can't escape, and is turning to give its weapons the best fields of fire.

The Reach have really committed to their beetle theme. The ship heading towards us literally looks like a stag beetle. Oh, the legs are replaced by their gravity emitters and scanners and the 'head' is their primary weapon rather than their bridge or sensor node, but the curve of the armour just shouts 'beetle'. It's as if humans had ships shaped like monkeys. As I watch my ring reports that the primary weapon is firing, but my squad evades without prompting. The primary weapon is slower than light and our sensors are faster than light. It's the secondary weapons that are the actual threat, and all of us should be capable of blocking them.

And there it goes, the beam of antiplasma flying past us to ruin someone's day in a million years. I'd guess that they're just testing that we're not complete-. Yes, there they go, shutting the armour around their primary weapon and powering it down to prevent us destroying the ship with a penetrating hit to the nose. At the same time the gun ports protecting the light speed secondary weapons retract and those will actually require effort to evade.

I don't bother reminding them of this fact. They've been training for this day, and are better motivated in the specific than I am. Instead I add a few evasive jinks to my movement, an action which Light-Click Quiet-Cough Rasp and Velus copy. Brobranbrak on the other hand opts to create an opaque shield, the construct escutcheon containing a layer of ultra-dense material just in case the Reach are intelligent enough to use orange lasers. I suspect that they've got a few, but I doubt that they beat the Green Lantern Corps with green lasers so I doubt they're expecting them to get more than a handful of free kills against exhausted Lanterns.

The ship spins, presenting us with its upper surface and its entire secondary weapons array. My ring shows me its lines of fire with probability figures and I flit through the optimal course as violet rays turn space into a disco. Brobranbrak isn't actually drawing a disproportionate number of shots despite being an easier target than the rest of us, the ship's captain most likely deducing that if zhe's just flying like that zhe's probably confident in zhe's abilities. Eventually, the Reach will start sticking experimental or specialist weapon systems onto smaller ships to take us by surprise, but at the moment this ship's abilities match our intelligence reports perfectly.

"Fire at will."

Brobranbrak fires at once, a fat orange beam blasting out of zhe's shield and speeding towards the ship. It tries to evade, but its gravity drive can't redirect itself fast enough without tearing the ship apart and all it manages to do is change a direct hit to a glancing hit. A glance hit that still manages to make its shield shudder and appreciably robs its momentum.

"You sure you don't want first blood?"

Velus sounds slightly nervous, quite at odds with what I'd expect from someone with his desire set. Why-? Ah, I see. He knows he's not at my level and doesn't want to waste his future killing opportunities by provoking me into killing him right now.

"Positive. I'm a results-orientated fellow. As long as they die it doesn't matter to me."

"You'd know."

He uses a weapon construct, which fires a 'beam' of gravity distortions. It's a little like the attack I used to destroy the first Reach ship I encountered, though more focused and efficient. Compared to Brobranbrak's effort it has the advantage of being faster than light and effectively bypassing the shields the ship is using. Unfortunately, the ship's density shifting armour grants it a degree of resistance to attacks like that. Not complete resistance; I can see the line across its armour where the beam is tearing apart the armour. And then the beam turns and three guns are destroyed before the ship starts closing gun ports.

"When I was a boy, I used to like cutting limbs off things before I killed them. Did the same as an adult, actually. Just did it to bigger creatures. Now, I figure this is my level."

And then he dives down, trying to ensure that the ship can't keep its toughest armour pointing at all of us.

"Still doing the same bile, though."

"I can respect your self-awareness. Light-Click Quiet-Cough Rasp? You don't feel like joining-"

The ship changes its targeting program and manages to hit me, the shot doing token damage to my construct armour.

"-in?"

"I will kill them at close quarters."

"As you-"

"RAAAAAAGH!"

"-will."

Brobranbrak's beam triples in size, and strands of energy emerge from the far end and clamp the edge of the ship's shield envelope in place. The ship's acceleration changes as it applies more power to trying to evade, but Brobranbrak is perfectly capable of holding it in place as the pumped beam hits.

The shield breaks, emitters utterly overloaded. The beam carries on into the ship's armour, being partially but not entirely deflected by the uppermost layer. The ship stops, exposed guns and upper surface sensors smashed to pieces and armour flaking as the beam smashes into it.

"Nice shot."

Brobranbrak stops, and the handful of still-functional guns take shots at zhe in case zhe's too exhausted to stop them. No such luck, though I am momentarily puzzled by why zhe stopped-. Oh, because an alien gave zhe a compliment and that disrupted zhe's focus. That's something zhe may need to work on for practicality concerns, rather than power level ones.

Velus fires at the ship's underbelly, and the destruction of its gravity emitters causes it to tumble.

"Come on people, it's crippled and we're not here for prisoners. Kill-."

"At all?" Velus sounds excited. "We're not taking-?"

"If they throw themselves at your feet, aren't armed and you aren't needed elsewhere, take them prisoner if at all possible. But this isn't about capturing intelligence assets. It's about sending a violent message that we can crush them."

"No need to justify it to me. You want a kill shot?"

Space fractures, intense gravity slashing through the ship and x-rays lashing out to fry everything that isn't cleaved in two. A larger ship would have systems to prevent that, but a smaller ship like this can only rely on the system's anti-FTL system.

"I'll give you a kill shot."

"Still reading life signs."

Light-Click Quiet-Cough Rasp surges forward, reaching the hull in a few seconds and tearing into it with construct blades.

"I have it."

I see the orange flares marking the surviving crew members flick out as he travels through the ship's interior, then turn away to look across the system.

The fleet base is bringing its defence screens to full power as the ships finish mustering. A station based on a planet can have far more powerful generators and emitters than a mobile element, and they've determined that coming at us isn't going to work. And they can't throw scarabs at us to board our ships because Lanterns can counter that far more effectively than space fighters. But not all the ships have made it back. One of the ships I'd marked as being too far away has decided to try. Based on our speed…

"That one's our next target."

 

3rd July 2012
10:47 GMT -5

The defence fleet reorientates as the four of us grow steadily closer. I don't think that they honestly believe that we're the main attack; Reach ships are known to be able to kill Lanterns, and I see they've reactivated some of the older models and sent them to the Reserve Fleet we're currently facing.

Not that the old ships are worse than the more recently constructed ones. Far from it. Rather, they're optimised for fighting Lanterns, targets they stopped needing to specialise against once their war with the Green Lantern Corps ended. Ships whose forward deployment might have been taken by the Guardians as an indication that they were thinking about fighting Lanterns again. Those things are ships that the Orange Lantern Corps has run training exercises about; they don't try and kill Lanterns with direct fire. They usually have some small direct fire weapons for coup de grâce shots, but their primary armaments are things like spatial disruptors which can cover huge volumes of space, or telepathic weapons which interfere with a Lantern's focus and so their ability to create and maintain constructs.

A few ships try firing on us, but the sheer volume of space that they're trying to cover means that there's next to no chance of them scoring a hit. I spot two drone carriers launch their cargoes in our directions, but since they're forced to travel at sublight speeds they won't be in effective weapons range until long after we overtake our quarry. If that's all they can do…

"Illustres to Clarissi. Reach fleet doesn't appear to have long range FTL weapons."

"Obviously. Empathic results?"

"Crew well motivated and sure of themselves. They know that they're unlikely to survive, but they believe that they can cripple us. I can't see anything related to a clever strategy or concealed allies."

"Scarabs?"

"They're blocking me, so they're probably-."

"Understood."

The connection fades. Well, alright, naturally he's paying attention to the only active combat currently taking place. But if he's done an analysis on the weapons the defenders are actually using, couldn't he have shared that with us? He's a far better analyst than me.

"So..?" Velus flies a little closer. "Are you planning on fighting..?"

"Ideally, I won't. Dox has me here for two reasons, but it would be far better for Orange Lanterns who aren't me to get experience in real combat with their rings against our primary enemy."

"Oh? Well, we got two minutes until we're in effective attack range… So?"

"We will lose battles during this war. That is practically unavoidable. But this is a fight we're supposed to win, to spur on our allies and potential allies. Losing here is unacceptable. If something strange happens and all other forces we're bringing to bear aren't enough, it's my job to ensure a victory."

"Because you're a super-Lantern."

"I'm not sure that I'm the most powerful Lantern in the universe, but I'm either number one or number two. It.. being understood that raw power isn't the only measure of ability. To the best of my knowledge the Reach don't have anything I can't defeat, but me having to do so would prove that Dox's preparations have been essentially useless. That's bad, politically."

"If you say so. What's the other reason?"

"My usual job. If an Orange Lantern goes crazy, it's my job to disarm them."

"You had to do that before?"

"A couple of times. Larfleeze was my first. The others were easier."

"Crazy Orange Lanterns are supposed to get real powerful."

"As I said, power isn't the only measure of ability. Clarissi Dox isn't all that powerful, but his understanding of weapons and technology means that he can do more with it. You heard about my fight with Lantern Ragnar?"

"He tells everyone. I think he's proud of it. Do you think you'll need to do something like that here?"

"No. I'm just insurance. But I'm trying to stay close to the most worrisome cases."

"Huh. Yeah, I guess that's fair. But all the targets in this system are military, aren't they?"

"If you can't identify targets-"

All four of us evade as a.. relatively weak gravity wave erupts outwards from the drive of our quarry. They appear to have accepted that they're not going to escape. Quite clever, really; their ship isn't designed to be able to do that and they must have reengineered the thing in flight without losing acceleration.

"-then you shouldn't be in the field."

But that sacrifice in acceleration for a desperation attack means that we're getting into attack range. Brobranbrak's ring glows brilliantly, then I'm surprised that zhe turns zhe's head away from the target to glance at me. Then zhe forms a… Crumbler ram construct and throws it towards the Reach ship.

"Well done. But-."

The ship begins to twist, and the moment it can bring any of its guns to bear it fires at the construct. Brobranbrak winces, but the construct collapses.

"-all Reach ships have weapons precise enough to snipe constructs. You need-."

"I do not need you to explain it to me."

Zhe reforms the ram and adds an outer shield before launching it again. I've felt like that before; the lesson is obvious and a person of reasonable intelligence can work it out without a tutor drawing particular attention to it. And zhe might have wanted to weigh up the ship's flak capacities for zheself. I shouldn't assume that Lantern Brobranbrak allowed zhe's contempt for aliens to influence zhe's decision.

So it's good that I don't have to assume things, and I could just check and confirm that's why. Still, I'll call it a win if zhe's abilities are improved by the event. No real need to labour the point.

The Reach ship fires again, but Lantern Brobranbrak remembers to have zhe's construct evade so that the shield only needs to take a couple of hits before slamming into the ship's shield envelope. The shield flares as the smart control system tries to respond to the thing that's hitting it before-. It's gone, and the ram carries on to punch a hole in the hull beneath.

Worth knowing. For a ship this size, smart shielding is the most efficient form of defence. But the standard 'neutral' defence is essentially an unusually efficient plasma shield, and crumber technology goes right through that.

Guns around the area struck lose power and some atmosphere vents, but that-.

There's a flare of light from inside the ship, and its motion becomes less controlled. Most ships that size don't focus on internal defences beyond teleport jammers, on the assumption that if the shields and armour have been breached then the ship's doomed anyway. Sticking a fission bomb is usually more than enough to wreck them from inside.

Quick check…

"Kill confirmed."

I check the system. The L.E.G.I.O.N. fleet is well inside the system, and will be coming within-.

I feel a new-. A cluster of new lights enter the system on another vector. Not reading L.E.G.I.O.N. transponders. If they're Reach ships-.

"Clarissi to Illustres. Return to the fleet at once."

"Acknowledged. Returning now."

 

3rd July 2012
10:53 GMT -5

Gordanians.

Since Dox expressed displeasure at being told things he probably already knows, I don’t point out to him that the heraldry and transponder marks them out as the Unending Conquest clan. The three yellow lines and a white blob emblem that every ship, weapon and adult clan member will have somewhere. The ships are mostly as I remember from the flotilla they sent to the meeting in Youlsi. None of the civilian ships or support ships that accompanied the diplomatic mission, but the general design and the slight headache I get when I focus on them are much the same.

The dreadnaught's new. And very clearly not gordanian in construction.

It.. utterly dwarfs the other ships. It could treat the heavily armoured battleships in the fleet in the way most carriers do their parasite craft. Their fleet is making excellent time to the Reach facility and as far as I can tell it's because that ship is blocking the effects of the FTL jammers. I'm having trouble matching it to anything on file. Most species don't build ships that large, and most of them are civilian ships. In a military setting they're too clumsy; equal tonnage of smaller ships are a better bet in most situations. It… Could be a support ship of some kind; shipbound gordanian clans do generally grow their own food and raise their young on ships, and something that size could have plenty of space…

Fall Before Me!

But that doesn't feel right. This… Feels like a warship. A pure warship.

A squadron of gordanian cruisers accelerate away from their formation, swiftly running down a Reach vessel which had been heading in their direction. They open fire at what a professional navy would consider optimal engagement range, their shots are accurate and disciplined, and one ship that took a hit from the Reach vessel's primary weapon falls back in formation and takes cover behind a ship with fully powered shields. Most gordanian warfleets would struggle for that degree of discipline.

Hm.

It's not gordanian, but I'm not sure whose it is. It's also got the same headache aura that the small-. Relatively small gordanian ships have…

"Any of you recognise that?"

Light-Click Quiet-Cough Rasp gives their antennae a shrug-wiggle. "No. Not the ship or the style or the underlying technology."

Velus shrugs. "It's big."

Brobranbrak doesn't respond, but does continue studying it in detail.

"When you look at it… Do you feel..? Strange?"

Velus smiles awkwardly. "No, no, you're thinking of the khundians. Killing doesn't arouse me. It's more of a… An intellectual satisfaction."

"I didn't mean in a libidinous sense. Like a… Headache? Like there's something… More, than what you're seeing?"

"I don't think I even understand what you're asking. Moving pretty fast, there. How worried are we right now?"

"If it really came to it we could accelerate just as hard. We're not because we don't need to. The gordanians might be racing to get into position to aid the Reach…" But the Reach ships are reforming their formation in a way which suggests that the other interlopers aren't any friendlier than we are. "But that doesn't seem to be what's happening."

"How did they even get here? Are there… Two of you?"

"I've met hundreds of me, but they all came from parallel universes and I've got a way to detect that. But if I can do something, I'm not arrogant enough to assume that no one else can have a similar ability."

All… Right. Given the speed of light and the relative position of the fleets…

Out I go

and back again, ready to take advantage of light speed sensors. FTL ring scans show the gordanian fleet not all that far behind me, and I take advantage of that fact to get some better quality scans in. The gordanians don't change direction, and while something they're doing causes my scan returns to glitch slightly, I'm able to power through it. Slower than light scans in the direction of their sudden appearance…

A giant portal.

I shift further away

for another look, knowing perfectly well that the quality is only going to degrade. That-. There are a lot of different forms of portal, some of which don't need a device at the end point. Even a zeta tube technically doesn't, as long as you don’t mind a degree of imprecision. And I didn't detect any zeta radiation. The other type of portal like that which I'm familiar with is Canis Minor's boom tube. Canis always seemed rather dismissive of warships, but apparently their ships did make use of boom tube generators.

Going the other way

is easier, the focused desires of the Orange Lantern Corps standing out rather obviously. I send the images I recorded to Dox, then wait for a response.

Velus points at the gordanian fleet. "Find anything?"

"Know anything about Apokolips?"

He doesn't respond, his eyes flashing-.

"Oh."

"I can't be completely sure, but I think that's a New God dreadnaught. I'm not 'worried', exactly, but I'm concerned that there's something going on that I don't know about."

Hm.

"Orange Illustres to…" Who's going to be on Earth? Coutara doesn't have the connections yet, the greenies could be dealing with things anywhere else in the Sector. Alan's probably still on the tour. "Dame Carol."

Her face appears almost immediately. "Lord Citrine. What aid can I lend you?"

"Nothing exciting, I'm afraid. Are you anywhere near Canis Minor?"

"The dog rider from Apokolips? No. Do you wish for me to relay a message?"

Transmit.

"I'm sending you the image of a ship. Please ask him if he recognises it."

"You believe it is Apokoliptian?"

"Yes, though if it's not there's still a good chance that he'll recognise it."

"I will begin-. Ah, I have him. One-"

The image vanishes for a moment, then reappears.

"-moment. Hail, warrior!"

"That may not be the best-."

The image shudders and then vanishes.

"That may not be the best approach, because Canis is Apokoliptian and considers violence to be artistic."

The image reappears.

"I should have made my intentions slightly clearer, but he is now restrained and still able to speak with you."

"Thank you. Could you put him on?" Canis's face replaces hers. "Canis."

"Do you need me to return? I was conducting a tour of the most heavily damaged sites to gain inspiration. I had informed Aqualad…"

"No, I just need to know if you recognise this ship. Dame Ferris, if you could..?"

Canis glances away for a moment, then nods.

"Yes. Though this image tells me little. It appears… Older. I have no idea who commands it."

"Thank you. I'll-."

The gordanian and Reach forces begin firing at one another.

"I'll let you know how it goes."

 

3rd July 2012
10:57 GMT -5

Fixed positions in space are… A mixed blessing. Certain types of weapons -kinetics, mostly- can hit from almost any distance away, but since the citadel doesn't need to be able to move the normal problems of moving large masses don’t limit its armour or other defences. If you fire kinetic weapons at it, it can deal with them with its flak batteries or just tank it. But at the same time, if someone can point a sufficiently large gun at you and you can't move, you're toast, while a far smaller ship -or a Lantern- might be able to evade.

In this region major battle fortresses are popular with anyone who can afford them because of the combination of popular offensive strategies and defensive strategies. The most dangerous single things are Scarab Warriors and Lanterns, who combine a high damage output with extremely high evasiveness. Structures are therefore mostly defensive, with electronic warfare, shields and point defences. And that's great most of the time. But that New God warship has a gun most of the Reach fleet could fly into.

The initial shots come from the gordanian ships as they copy our actions, squadrons shifting position to destroy beacons and mines. A few Reach fire support ships take shots at… I'm guessing the dreadnaught, but at this distance their shots won't hit for nearly a minute even if the dreadnaught maintains its course perfectly. In open space ships with FTL guns are deadly, but in a place where everyone is trying to gum up the working of space-time they're not much more effective than other types of big gun-focused ship.

The dreadnaught isn't firing yet. I can see what I think are weapon mounts, but I'm not sure what their optimal range is and I doubt that a New God is going to try fighting anything as small as a b-

By My Order Be Unmade.

A Reach battleship, several nearby escorts and a bastion station behind it are reduced to vapour in an explosion..?

-uoy…

O-w. Ow.

No, what-?

Focus. That was an FTL weapon, with the rather confusing profile of appearing to hit before they're fired. There was no sign of any sort of charge build-up in the dreadnaught's primary weapon, but the destroyed ships were in a direct line with the ship's long axis. So they've got FTL sensors as well, which… Some gordanians used to buy that sort of technology from the psions, but it's unusual. Lanterns get spoilt by their FTL sensors; most fleet engagements happen between groups of people who can only see where the other side used to be.

By My Hand Be Cast Down.

This time the dreadnaught strikes the planet directly, the facility's shield failing to do a thing to block the shot as it disintegrates the main base, the surrounding land, the… Well, the moon was a frozen desert, but now it’s a frozen desert that's been knocked out of its orbit by a combination of the force of the shot and the rapid evaporation of about a twentieth of its mass, the now-visible core of the world doing that.. interesting combination of freezing and boiling that water does in a vacuum.

Never seen rock do that before, though I suspect this is going to become a recurring theme of this war. And not just by our enemies; Dox assured me that we won't be doing it to worlds that still have hostage populations-. 'Salvageable' hostage populations, but once we get to the point where we're directly fighting worlds whose populations consist entirely of Reach citizens I imagine that I shouldn't expect much restraint.

The Reach fleet gets underway, accelerating at… Yes, their best speed towards the gordanians. Even allowing that the rest of the fleet is more potent than what most gordanian mercenaries manage… Yes, I can calculate their damage output based on how quickly they destroyed that first Reach ship, scale upwards… The Reach fleet should easily win if the dreadnaught isn't factored in. I don't have any idea of what its secondary and tertiary weapons can do, so it's impossible to say who truly has the advantage.

But I don't think that someone who could get their hands on a New God warship would have judged their entry into this war carelessly.

Dox is getting.. a lot of requests for orders. I'm not hearing any responses.

I don't have any rank in L.E.G.I.O.N., but Orange Lanterns are very much my concern. I don't want to undermine Dox, but if he isn't.. saying anything…

Illustres to all Lanterns.

"Looks like a New God can have a midlife crisis."

It's a weak witticism, and I doubt the Lanterns who don’t come from a species with the standard pattern humanoid reproductive system would understand the reference.

"I hope that everyone is watching very carefully and recording precisely the capacities of the gordanian fleet. The sensors the L.E.G.I.O.N. fleet uses are good, but they're not power rings. And while I'm sure that everyone is disappointed that someone is going to beat us to killing a Reach fleet… There are plenty more where they came from."

I don't do anything exotic, but the orange lights around me intensify… Or rather, return to their previous intensity after dipping when the gordanian fleet appeared. I'm not a particularly good public speaker and I don't have a personal relationship with these Lanterns so there's probably not much more I can do until Dox decides what he wants us to do. I could try contacting that dreadnaught directly, or try reaching Councillor Vayneek to discover their intentions… But I don't want to undermine Dox.

The Reach fleet is firing in earnest, now, as the gordanians continue to accelerate and cluster tighter. Reach prow-mounted primary weapons are all firing at the dreadnaught, which-. Definite lateral movement, there. Trying to move itself out of the densest cone of fire? Those weapons are a good deal slower than light, so-.

This time, I see the moment when the fleet-scale boom tube appears.

It opens just in front of the dreadnaught, the entire fleet passing through before all but the earliest shots from the Reach intersect with their former position. Okay, are they.. disengaging? Somewhat anticlimactic, but if they just want to soften our target up for-.

Then the exit appears, immediately behind the Reach fleet. The smaller gordanian ships are out first, shooting after the larger Reach ships and rapidly closing to point blank range. Reach ships are tough, but their attackers have a weapon loadout focused on short range bombardment and are highly skilled at coordinating their fire. One gun-battleship has its shields breached before it can reorientate them, the barrage breaking its armour and piercing its primary generators a moment later.

Reach return fire is slower but not slow, hampered more by the relative position of the fleets than the sloth of the crews. They're turning, but their formation isn't designed to fight an enemy coming from that direction and-.

And then the dreadnaught is through and their efforts-

By My Will, Cease.

-all seem rather irrelevant.

Two battleships this time, and I think… It's targeting the Reach fleet's flags. And it turns out that it does have secondary weapon batteries and I can't even see the Reach fleet's return fire now. Scaled up Apokoliptian blasters. Far slower than light but far more powerful than the infantry version. Reach ships crumple, their shields failing in moments and their hulls only shortly afterwards. That… Means there's a powerful New God on that dreadnaught, either that or a team of less powerful ones perfectly coordinating themselves.

The gordanians aren't having it entirely their own way. One of the flanking Reach squadrons manages to reposition itself and make a coordinating counterattack. Two gordanian cruisers are caught while attacking a.. carrier? And reduced to drifting hulks as the squadron heads for a gordanian battleship a little way behind them. They're also careful to keep a number of gordanian ships between them and the dreadnaught, which isn't a terrible idea…

But I've seen Canis, Scott Free and Barda interact with New God technology. The commander of that ship isn't going to miss in a situation like this. The only question is whether they take the shot themselves or order the battleship to deal with it. The fact that they haven't shared blaster technology with the gordanian ships suggests that they aren't perfectly cooperating… So what wins out? Pride in the power of their fleet, or contempt for those who fail to grasp their own power?

The battleship spots the attack and opens fire, its primary and secondary batteries picking targets by class. Its support squadron turn away from their targets a moment later, moving to flank the attackers. The Reach ships are dying faster than their worse-positioned comrades, so if this is a sacrificial-.

The dreadnaught fires, miss-.

No. Ring, show me that again.

Compliance.

No, not missing. The squadron's command ship had a Scarab Warrior who was flying at the gordanian battleship. The dreadnaught apparently considered that to be the only thing the battleship couldn't deal with on its own. And two blaster secondary batteries are enough to shred a Scarab Warrior.

I look back to the ongoing combat, only to find that it's not really ongoing. The Reach fleet has ceased to be, the few survivors being pursued as they try to flee. They aren't getting away though; the dreadnaught is opening smaller boom tubes for the cruisers to intercept them, all the while turning to-

Trouble Me No More.

-utterly shatter the moon with its main gun.

Huh.

Then a new fleet-scale boom tube opens just ahead of our fleet.

 

3rd July 2012
10:59 GMT -5

I note that the gordanian fleet hasn't manoeuvred into position to actually travel through their end of the boom tube yet.

I note the redoubled threads of fear weaved through Lanterns guarding the L.E.G.I.O.N. fleet. This isn't the situation for a speech. This is a time for orders and direction. While the Reach fleet was here, with the people Dox picked for this mission, we didn't have to worry about fear. The antipathy they felt caused everything else to be pushed aside. But that's a big ship with a very powerful-

"Ah..?"

-gun.

"Yes, Lantern Velus?"

"So… Are we leaving?"

I don't know if someone from New Genesis would leave a portal in place as an intimidation technique or not. I have been assuming that they'd be more inclined to communicate before opening hostilities. This sort of statement of power feels Apokoliptian in a.. way I can't precisely define.

"Because… I know you said this was a trial run and you could handle anything unexpected, but it doesn't look like there's anything here for us."

"That's up to Dox. Retreating would be a little difficult."

"Why can't we just leave the same way we came here?"

Because Dox didn't test the system. He couldn't, if he wanted to keep it a surprise to the near-ludicrous degree that he wanted to. Which means that it's perfectly possible that the archmages are running around putting the whole thing back together right now, and they're having to do that ship by ship and take a shuttle to travel between ships because there's no way that dreadnaught isn't blocking technological teleportation and magic based teleportation isn't a good idea when someone like me has been throwing disruptive energies around.

"Because the aim was to win a propaganda victory, and I'm afraid 'we came, we watched someone else do our job, and then left' doesn't have quite the same ring to it. Still, it's up to Clarissi Dox. If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll consult with him."

He nods, and goes back to watching the boom tube.

Ring, quietly, don't make my face appear over his ring, message Dox.

Compliance.

Clarissi Dox, the Orange Lantern Corps and I would appreciate orders.

…

Oh.

That's a shame.

Looks like it's up to us then.

First, direct the fleet. Velus was right; our target has been destroyed. The thing to do now is to either attack the outer sphere or pick another mid-sphere fleet to destroy. And since ultimately this part of the campaign is about liberating people my preference is for the former…

"Illustres to L.E.G.I.O.N. flag captain. Has Commander Dox been incapacitated?"

"He's.. not responding."

"Then I am assuming command of this fleet. Objections?"

"… No. Sir."

"What is our first contingency target?"

"Reach reserve fleet four seven two nine."

Unsurprising.

"Then that's where we're going. Illustres to Orange Lantern Corps. We're leaving. I am assigning you L.E.G.I.O.N. ships to tow to the edge of the FTL jammers' effect radius. Carry out this order at once. Any Lantern who does not receive an assignment is joining me on rearguard duty. Pay attention, you may learn something."

The Lanterns with a military background respond first, the rest only hesitating for a moment before going into action. The Reach are perfectly capable of interfering with Lantern FTL, but it is possible to overcome it with enough effort. Of course, while my Lanterns are focusing on that, they're not going to be able to fight the gordanians off effectively.

"You all know perfectly well that a construct you generate is only as strong as your desire for it to exist. And, frankly, protecting a bunch of people that you've never spent any time with isn't a high priority. Not a lot of altruists around here. I've found that the trick is to eliminate in your own mind the distinction between means and end. By which I mean that there's little ultimate difference between killing a Reach ship yourself and saving a colleague who will go on to kill a Reach ship due to your action. Want the means, want the ends. For example, I don't really know any of you."

I make a very obvious reaching gesture with my left hand, rings glowing as a rather large wall appears. And then gets bigger, surpassing the surface area of the fleet scale boom tube. And bigger, surpassing the surface area of the moon the dreadnaught destroyed. And bigger.

Yes, I think that's big enough.

"Nonetheless, harm to you makes it harder for the end I wish to achieve to manifest into reality. Which means that I really have to do my utmost to keep you in one… Is there a reason why you're not joining in with this shield? Is suicide by gordanian that appealing-"

Lanterns raise their rings, additional layers forming behind the middle of the construct wall. They're nothing like as large as mine, and the efforts of the rearguard as a group are uncoordinated.

"-to you, because if it is, I'm the last person who will condemn you for seeking to realise your heartfelt desires, but for everyone else: make an effort."

A small nudge, and one that none of them will be consciously aware of. Just enough to make it seem obvious to my merry gang of pernicious individualists that when they all want the same thing they should combine their efforts. I wait and watch, and the multitude of barriers under mine merge into a unified whole, more than a few Lanterns displaying species-appropriate signs of surprise as it happens. Hopefully they'll be more able to do it on their own initiative in-

The dreadnaught comes through the boom tube.

-future.

There's a slight dimming in the barrier, but now that they've got something to focus on most of the Corps isn't experiencing anything like the same degree of distraction.

The dreadnaught doesn't fire. Or bring through any of the rest of its fleet. And while it's coming through the tube, it appears to be making a point of doing so as slowly as possible.

Apokoliptian New God doing everything it can to seem intimidating? I can only think of one appropriate response.

"I realise that this is a bit of a disappointment to many of you, but we'll destroy a different Reach fleet shortly. The gordanians are clearly a disciplined and well-equipped fighting force, but equally they clearly don’t have the numbers to truly threaten the entirety of the Reach. So with that in mind; a song, from my homeworld. Feel free to join in once you've learned the chorus."

"The sun on the meadow is summery warm
The stag in the forest runs free
But gather together to greet the storm
Tomorrow belongs to me."

 

3rd July 2012
10:23 GMT -5

"Oh orange light, orange light
Show us the sign!
Your Lanterns have waited to see!
The morning will come
When the gal'xy's mine!"

I Think Not.

The space between us and the dreadnaught is obscured as the dreadnaught's main gun fires, a test of the strength of my desire for the fulfilment of my mission.

A test of the strength of the mortal's desire for the fulfilment of his mission against my drive to conquer. Can he hear me, I wonder? Some mortals long accustomed to divine power can become aware of us, though I've yet to see one with any degree of true insight.

I smile as I feel something other than the power of the main gun directed at me from the dreadnaught. Hello there.

"Tomorrow belongs to me!"

I pointedly turn away from the blazing fury raining down on my shield. The Lanterns I assigned to tow duty appear to have found a workable method for ducking the jamming. It's not exactly fast, but it's faster than light and that's fast enough. They should only need a few minutes.

"Alright, let's try that again, but I expect you all to join in this time."

Tomorrow belongs to ME, mortal, and all of the days thereafter.

Yes, there's a New God over there, and they know who I am. But this is my Lantern Corps, and if they need a victory then I will ensure that they have one. My vision of the future won't be stopped by a demigod with a big… 'Ship'.

My vision won't be stopped by a mortal with a glowing ring.

"Oh orange light, orange light
Show us the-!"

No one's joining in.

"Oh, come on. Most of your cultures have a concept of music! And the rest of you-"

The dreadnaught accelerates, coming steadily closer.

I Am Inevitable.

It fires again, the ravening energies once more obscuring the wider universe on the other side of my barrier. Yes, yes, it's a very big gun. But these Lanterns are mine, and that's more important.

This ship is mine. My capital. My throne. And it is of more significance than your cluster of mental defectives.

"-can just chant it?"

Most of the L.E.G.I.O.N. ships are nearing the edge of the jamming limit now, the Lanterns who moved fastest dumping their loads before flying back to aid the slower ones.

"Oh orange light, orange light!"

There's a reluctant muttering along from the Lanterns surrounding me, which is mildly frustrating as their shield is inside my shield and as such isn't actually getting shot at the moment. You'd think they could multitask well enough to sing.

"Show us the sign!"

With a little effort, I add an orange sigil wider than planet Earth to the inside of my shield.

"Your Lanterns have waited to see!"

I will show them their futures in a handful of ash.

"The morning will come!"

Now the dreadnaught's secondary batteries open fire as well, testing the outer parts of my shield. Yes, still strong there as well.

"When the gal'xy's mine!"

Slightly more Lanterns singing along now. Actually-. Ah, a proportion of those on tow duty have returned and joined in. I suppose that from a distance my shield is visible and the dreadnaught's own weaponsfire obscures it.

"Tomorrow belongs to me!"

Everyone who's still here sings a line, and inside my helmet I'm smiling broadly.

Enough of this!

The main gun shuts down, though the dreadnaught is still coming closer.

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it? Upon my order, disengage in small groups and link up with the L.E.G.I.O.N. fleet. I'll tell you when."

I begin sending orders direct to their rings, flecks of orange light across the emptiness of the outer system blurring as they head away. A hundred and twenty two Lanterns to a hundred and twelve. A hundred and one. Ninety, and the only reason I'm going this slowly is to make it completely clear to everyone that this is a controlled withdrawal.

The dreadnaught slows to a relative stop, its bow almost touching my barrier. Generally speaking, if your super gun didn't work then ramming probably won't either. Why are they..?

A small boom tube opens near the bow of the vessel and a single humanoid steps out, arms folded behind… His back. Big fellow. I guess this is the warchief that no one challenges. No one inside the clan challenges.

"Remaining Lanterns may disengage on their own recognisance. Shield going down."

Rather than simply dismiss it, I allow the construct to shrink inwards, until it's merely the size of the great orange sigil. Lanterns retreat, but nothing like as fast as they would be if they earnestly desired to flee. I think a few are actually loitering.

"As much as I appreciate the offer of backup, the fleet does actually need you. Get moving. That is an order."

And they're going. I float closer, making eye contact with the hulking figure acting as his ship's hood ornament. And I have no doubt that it is his; he has New God armour similar in general design to what the other New Gods of my acquaintance wear, though a little more sombre in tone. Dull gold and black, his face bare and a cascade of white hair drifting in the vacuum.

I have no idea who this is. The face and grey-blue skin tone reminds me a little of Marvel's Thanos, but otherwise, I've got nothing. I didn't learn all that much about the backgrounds of the New Gods on Earth Prime because… Whatever the original idea was, when I was younger they were serving as minor Superman characters with grand-sounding names but little actual plot relevance.

Of course, if Canis is anything to go by, he's not exactly going to be shy about telling me. So… Fully disengaged? Yes, just me left on our side, except perhaps for a few Lanterns who are really good at stealth. I make sure that I have eye contact and then lightly tap the shield from my side with the knuckles of my right hand as I allow it to evaporate.

"Hello there! I'm the Illustres of the Orange Lantern Corps. Mind if I come aboard?"

"You have my permission to stand before me."

The voice is as deep as I'd expect for a chest of that volume, but also… Dusty? There's a mildly wheezing quality to it that I find a little odd. I suppose that could just be a result of talking in a vacuum; I'm not totally clear how he's managing that.

I fly through space, over the bow of the ship and land a short distance ahead of him.

"And whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

"I am Grayven." "I am Conquest."

 

3rd July 2012
10:29 GMT -5

Oh. I… Think I vaguely remember that he was one of Darkseid's offspring, created because the writers thought that they were devaluing Darkseid by showing him being constantly beaten by everyone. Notable victories included killing Darkstars… And I can't think of anything else.

"Nice work with the Reach fleet. Councillor Vayneek told me that his clan was interested in attacking the Reach, but he didn't mention that his clan chief was Apokoliptian."

Now that I get a closer look, the tron lines on the front of his cuirass look like a more high-tech version of the clan insignia. That makes sense; he'd wear it because it shows he's in charge, but there's no way he'd paint it on himself and his flesh would regenerate a tattoo.

"How do you know of my people?"

"S-." I frown, then smile. "Your brother Scott Free lives on my homeworld."

There's no obvious reaction to that news, though assuming he's actually in touch with Apokolips then he now knows where I come from.

"You do know me, then."

"Know of you. I mean, I knew a New God was involved the moment the boom tube appeared, and I guessed 'Apokoliptian' due to the way your followers conducted themselves, but I didn't know you were in charge. I didn't know what you looked like until you introduced yourself just now."

"And you. What are you?"

"I am the Illustres of the Orange Lantern Corps. And as-."

"No. Not that. You do not feel entirely mortal."

"I was bonded to the Embodiment of Avarice for a week a year and a half ago. The experience -and the recovery from it- changed me. Look, can we… Talk about the Reach?"

"Yes." "Acquiesce."

There it.. is again.

"Please don't do that."

"I do what I like."

"Does 'what you like' include starting a fight with the Embodiment of Avarice right here? Scott explained that spiritual communication thing you New Gods do-."

"He did not. He lacks the knowledge that would be required. Still, I can be satisfied that you are not wholly ignorant. But, no. I will not still my soul for your benefit."

"In that case we will speak with you in the manner in which you are accustomed."

A clear expression of disquiet on his face as we regard all that he is. The structures of his desires are more alive than those we are accustomed to, more bound up in the material, acting on it and directing it and in turn-.

"Banish your creature!" "You Are Not Worthy!"

"We are not so separate that one can banish the other, but since it offends you so much, I will make a temporary accommodation."

His eyes are glowing red-. Ah, yes, he has a scaled-down version of the omega beam, doesn't he. I wonder how scaled down? Conflict with Darkseid is inevitable, and it would be infinitely preferable to have some idea if plan 'stick something in the way' is actually a viable tactic.

"The New God religion says that each of you embodies a fraction of the Source, doesn’t it? The divide between me and the Ophidian is a little unclear. But: the Reach."

He remains staring at me as his eyes dim.

"This ship is the Absolute Dominion. A New God warship crafted to fight in our earliest wars and made whole anew at my direction. It is unimaginably superior to anything the Reach can field."

I nod. "And your gordanians have a rare discipline. I take it you've worked on them as well?"

"Their minds and souls are now as strong as their bodies. They can never be my equals, but they are most excellent tools for extending my domain."

"I had been under the impression that Apokolips was out of the military conquest business."

"I do not do this for Apokolips. I act in my own name, under my own banner."

"Ah. Good for you. Because we're really not ready to fight Darkseid."

That actually gets a small smirk.

"No. You are not."

"But he's the target, isn't he? In the end. He can't tolerate anyone being independent of him, not in the long run."

"I have no interest in indulging you. I will tell you what I will do. I will destroy the Reach as a political body. The survivors will become mine, and I will rule over them as I see fit."

"I have no particular objection to you taking and administering that territory, but… The worlds conquered by the Reach but still occupied by their original inhabitants must be returned to them."

"They can live under my reign, equal to my other tools. The Reach destroy theirs too readily." "Such inefficient statecraft offends me."

"Well… We're not going to be releasing any worlds we liberate to you, though we'll be happy to help you undo the Reach's programming on any worlds you liberate."

"I have no need for your aid."

"Alright. Then… Why are we talking? If you don't want anything and aren't offering anything, I don't understand the point."

"I wished to look you in the eye. Your shield was not inconsiderable in magnitude. If I did not know who you are, my eventual triumph over you would have less… Weight."

"Can.. we at least agree to fight the Reach first?"

"If you stay out of my way, I will not seek you out."

"I'll… Take that. Um, thank you. Good luck with your war against the Reach, I hope you don't die until right near the end."

He actually smiles.

"I hope that you die to no hand but mine."

"Ah… I already died once. Burning sword through the skull."

"I will make sure that mine is more…" His eyes light up again. "Thorough."

…

"Ah. Okay?" I raise my right fore and index finger to my forehead and give him a demi-salute. "I'll.. be seeing you, then."

I step-.

…

His smile broadens.

Be like that, then.

We step into him, twisting and bending his desire networks, leaving him writhing in confusion before we finally leave, heading after our fleet and our Lanterns. As a New God he will recover in short order, but perhaps he will learn some manners? But now, we have a victory to earn.

 

July 3rd 2012, 08:32 GMT -7

I didn't see a lotta nature growing up in Gotham. Poison Ivy hadn't taken over Robinson Park yet, but the Falcones already owned the mayor's office and the city council. Money for parks and recreation wasn't exactly high on their priority list. And trips with Dad out to the forest weren't exactly nature walks.

I don't know if it's because they're ponies or because they haven't industrialised yet, but the ponies have a lot more nature around their towns. Canterlot.. just.. stops once you get off the mountain. And then there's miles of moorland before you get to… This place.

It's called Ponyville. I know I'm just getting a translation from Sunset's spell, but that's not even a pun. It's just 'pony' with 'ville' stuck on the end. We don't have towns called 'Humanville'. Yeah, Grayven said there's a place in England called 'Manchester', and apparently there's some place in Vietnam called 'Hue', but it's not literally every town on the planet.

"Bit for your thoughts?"

The pink… Ah… Pinkie Pie? I'm guessing this is the local one, but I don't know how Grayven tells them apart. It's probably something to do with him starting to reorganise their government and so counting them as his 'subjects', but arrows don't really have personalities. If I wanted to work out the differences I'd probably need to go hunting with them or something.

I look around the apple orchard.

"How do you pick these without hands?"

Pinkie Probably Pie grins, shaking her head, her mane flopping back and forward like it's made of rubber. "We don't, silly. How would we pick things without hands?"

…

"I-. With your mouths? That's how most ponies I've seen move stuff."

Pinkie Pie frowns. "I think that would bruise the skin. And it would take a really long time. And it would probably make a lot of ponies strain their necks. And have you tried to go up a ladder as a pony? We're really not designed for ladders."

"I guess… Okay, how do you get the apples off the trees?"

Pinkie Pie perks up. "I'll show you!" And then she perks down. "Well, okay, I won't show you, because last time I tried to do it… It didn't go too well. But my friend Applejack can show you!"

"Let's go find Applejack, then."

Pinkie Pie… Bounces, all four legs acting like springs. Is that something ponies can do? Ponies like Wilson-ponies. I haven't seen any of the others do it, but maybe they just think it looks silly? Or maybe it's really hard? I've gotten the hang of walking with four hooves, but I can't run-. Or.. trot? Yet.

"Hey, do you have deer around here?"

"Of course not. This is an apple orchard, not a deer orchard." Pinke Pie gasps, then her head twists around like an owl's neck while she keeps bouncing. "Unless they're in disguise!"

"Ah, yeah, no, I meant; can deer talk on this planet? Are they intelligent, like ponies?"

"Wouldn’t they be intelligent like deer?"

"That's a tautology. Look, I know gryphons and dragons are as intelligent as ponies, but regular dogs and cats aren't."

"Oh."

"So?"

"So?"

"Are deer intelligent like gryphons, dragons and ponies are?"

"I don't know. I've never met a deer. But the only zebra I've met is super-nice, so, maybe?"

"How about giraffes?"

"What are those?"

Right. Pre-industrial, in the middle of a continent. They probably didn't even have a map of their planet until Grayven gave them one.

"They look sorta like ponies, but a lot bigger and with really long necks. And they've got two little-" I go cross-eyed for a second trying to look at my horn. "-horns on their heads."

"Huh. I dunno, but now I really wanna meet one! They probably could pick apples without a ladder!"

"Yeah, probably."

I don't… I mean, yeah, this place is about as far from the Land of Summer's End as you can get, and I guess Grayven wanted to spend some time with Princess Luna, but I don't.. really…

I don't know why I'm here. I think Grayven wants to put me in a relaxing environment, without all of the people and places I keep thinking I should remember but don't. But I think that's just… Putting it off? If he was just trying to break me out of a 'downward spiral' or something-.

"Hey, AJ!"

A pale orange pony with a.. cowboy hat. Huh? Why would a pony wear a hat to keep the sun off when they're not wearing clothes and they're covered in fur? That-. Anyway, the orange pony with the apple butt tattoo looks up from taking buckets off a cart.

"Well hey there Pinkie Pie! Who's yer friend?"

"This is Artey! She came through the magic mirror like Grayven did!"

'AJ' starts looking decidedly less welcoming. "That right."

"Uh-huh! And she wants to know how we get apples off the trees!"

"Well, that's easy. We buck 'em."

I frown, and I feel the pull as my horn stops the skin over my forehead moving.

"You.. buck them?"

"Why, we surely do! I'll show ya!"

Applejack grabs one bucket after another, rapidly tossing them into a rough circle around one of the apple trees. Weird they all stay upright, but I guess the bases are weighted or something?

"Watch real careful, y'all."

Applejack backs up towards the tree, and it looks like she's carefully judging the distance. So, what, she kicks the tree and the apples fall off? How can that wo-

Next to me, Pinkie Pie inhales deeply, her lungs swelling.

-rk..? Oh, is this one of those song th-?

"Apple's a yummy, tree-growing fruit!
Bucking them is a bucker's strong suit!
Because you see it's really a breeze!
Pull your legs back and buck all the trees!"

Applejack kinda leans forward, lifts her back legs up and thrusts them into the tree. The tree vibrates, the apples shake, then… Fall… Perfectly into the buckets?

What?

"You can buck peaches and you can buck limes!
And you can buck figs if you've got the time!
And if you want to buck down some sloes!
Swing your legs hard and see how it goes!"

Pinkie Pie prances around as Applejack continues buck-.

"Apple's a yummy, tree-growing fruit!
Bucking them is a bucker's strong suit!
Because you see it's really a breeze!
Lift your tail up and buck all the trees!"

Wait. Wait. Lift your-? What's she saying?

"If fruit-bearing trees aren't how you swing!
You can buck just about anything!
Buck on a wood plank to drive in the nails!
Or buck a ship-mast to open the sails!"

Is she..?

"Apple's a yummy, tree-growing fruit!
Bucking them is a bucker's strong suit!
Because you see it's really a breeze!
Spread your legs wide and buck all the trees!"

This is-!

"Srk!"

"Buck on a mountain to knock down a rock!
Buck on a tower to start up a clock!
Buck on a stuck pipe to start up a flow!
You can try bucking wherever you go!"

"Apple's a yummy, tree-growing fruit!
Bucking them is a bucker's strong suit!
Because you see it's really a breeze!
Stretch your haunches and buck all the trees!"

…

"Hahahahaha!"

 

July 3rd 2012, 08:38 GMT -7

"Expand on your bucking proclivity
So if you need you can even buck me-."

The-. HAH! The pony stops in mid-air, shakes, then falls to the ground, sits on her bum and waves her front legs at me.

"Ah, can you forget I sang that last one? Please?"

"Hah. Ah, why?"

Aside from the obvious word substitution thing. I mean, I don’t think she's coming onto me-. But then, Grayven and Luna are pretty okay with-.

"Well…" Pinkie Pie tilts her head to the right. "My uncle Smoky Quartz taught me that bit when I was a little filly, and Mom got mad and glared at him and told him he couldn't have any more adult soda and I don't want to get him in trouble again."

She sounds… Completely… Genuine? Does she not..? Realize..? I was.. kinda assuming that 'buck' and 'fuck' weren't near-phonemes in ponyspeak, but… That song makes it pretty clear that they are. Unless I'm just so… Unpony, or whatever, that I'm seeing things that aren't there.

"Okay. But… Did he teach you any other verses?"

"One or two." She taps her chin with her right front hoof. "And he might have been right? My friend Rainbow Dash is a pegasus and she does everything fast, so I guess it would make sense if she bucked fast too, but I've never seen a unicorn buck. Even when we help out Applejack on the farm, Twilight and Rarity use their horns instead. And that wasn't how that verse went at all."

I'm moving before I really think about it, and legs that I can usually barely control are.. hugging her? It feels weird, having the fur on my chest rubbing against hers and her sweet-smelling mane in my nose, but… Nice? She hugs me back, and she's stronger than she looks. All that bouncing's healthy exercise, I guess? It's like hugging Barney the Dinosaur.

Only less terrifying.

I let go and shuffle back a bit before getting back on all four hooves. I… Like this pony. She's so… Open, and cheerful. Just being around her makes…

"Ah, are you okay? You looked kinda sad there for a moment."

"It's…"

It's why Grayven asked her to show me around, obviously. He thinks I need to open up to a pink party pony who doesn't know what 'adult soda' is.

I mean… Maybe?

I clear my throat. "So, was that a.. traditional.. earth pony song?"

She nods. "Uh-huh! Every earth pony town that does any bucking at all has their own version! Do the ponies where you come from have a song like that?"

"Ah… Not.. really? Human legs don't really work like that."

"Do you have songs about climbing trees instead?"

"No? Why would-?" Right. "You know we're not.. monkeys, right? I mean, we're related, but we've been upright for about six million years."

She nods.

"So they'd be really old songs."

"I don't think we even had language back then."

"Okay. What songs do humans sing? What songs did your uncle teach you?"

"Well… I grew up on a different continent to my mom's family. And all Dad ever told us about his side of the family was that they died. So… They kinda didn't."

"Um. Oh. Um. What about your mom and dad?"

"Mom once made up a song about stabbing people? It's not.. really something I wanna pass on to an alien civilisation."

"Ah… Like, joke… Stabbing? Like a murder mystery party?"

"No, like stabbing someone with a knife so they die. My parents were thieves and murderers. Or.. are, in Mom's case. I didn’t exactly have a normal childhood."

Pinkie Pie shifts awkwardly. "I didn't have a normal foalhood either, but for me that just means I grew up on a rock farm. Um. Are you okay?"

"How would I know?"

"Oh, whaw. I.. try and make people happy? But I'm not actually a trained counsellor pony? Um…" Her left ear flicks nervously, then she gets up and stands next to me, not quite touching me but making me aware that she's there. "But we can talk about it if you want?"

Talking to a talking pony plush doll beats trying to talk to Dinah again. And whatever Grayven says, I'm leaving Guy Gardner as a last option.

"You know, I'm actually older than my mom?"

"How does that work?"

"Time travel. I went to the future for a long time, then came back."

"A long long time?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Like, Hearthwarming Cake takes a long time, or like a tree growing takes a long time? Or like Princess Celestia's ruled Equestria for a long time?"

"Probably that last one. Me and Grayven ruled the whole planet."

"Was it fun?"

"I wouldn't call it fun. But… I.. miss it. It's pretty much all I've done for so long that now there's this.. hole in my life."

"Hey, that sounds a lot like Princess Celestia!"

Grayven's girlfriend's sister. And Sunset's teacher, before she came to Earth after they had a fight. I've seen her a couple of times but I don't really know her.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, she's ruled Equestria for over a thousand years! And I've never even heard of her doing anything that wasn't something to do with that."

"What did she do before that?"

"Uh." Pinkie Pie stares straight forward, her eyes wide. "Before? I can't-. I mean, they weren't in charge in the Hearthwarming story, so I guess she wasn't always in charge?" She taps her chin with her right front hoof. "It's just-. She's-. The.. Princess."

She shakes her head, her hair blurring-. Is her muzzle bending, or is that just an optical illusion?

"What kinda things did you do when you were in charge?"

"I…"

I remember fighting. And arguing. Commanding and managing logistics. Reading reports and checking that the people writing them weren't lying to me. Trying to instil some sort of unifying ideology in a people who only cared about themselves and maybe those immediately around them. And then when I got back together with Grayven… Things got easier, but there was always something. A sports event to open. A research project to monitor. We… Went to see plays a couple of times, but that was because we'd only just got the Sheeda to start doing cultural stuff. Yeah, it wasn't all exhausting, but I can't remember anything I just did for fun.

"I worked. I worked a whole lot."

"What did you do when you weren't working?"

What hobbies did I even have before I went to the Land of Summer's End? Apart from vigilantism. I can't remember anything.

"I think that was just when I was asleep."

Pinkie stares at me, her mouth hanging slightly open.

"Ok-ay, well, how about we do some stuff I think is fun, and we see if that helps?"

I nod, and give her a small smile. I guess it can't hurt, can it?

 

3rd July 2012
10:39 GMT -5

They see us coming, of course.

"This is my cause, this is my fight."

The fight's happening about a light-week away from me, and therefore is invisible to the unaided eye as a result. Ring-based FTL sensors provide a more helpful view of my Lanterns blocking shots for the L.E.G.I.O.N. fleet and then moving aside as their return volleys rend apart their Reach opposition.

"Shine through the void with orange light."

My deduction about the magic shields was right, though the archmages weren't even attempting to repair them. Apparently it's completely impractical in the field away from a thaumically active world. Which meant that we had a choice between a slow approach -completely unacceptable- or having me muscle through the anti-Lantern FTL blockers to get us into position within a reasonable timeframe.

"I've claimed all within my sight."

Which means that the Reach now know that I can do that. And not just on my own, but with a strategically useful fleet. And I'm pretty sure that they're going to upgrade their jammers now, certainly around their core worlds.

The Reach's attack craft are dead, but rather than commit to the attack I'm having the Lanterns hold back. The former Darkstars amongst them have taken a particularly vindictive joy in hunting down the handful of Scarab Warriors who've shown themselves outside of their ships, while the rest are under firm instructions to focus on battlefield control. Some work in teams to drag Reach ships around or hold them in place to make them easier targets. Some assist our own crippled vessels in retreating. Some are storming the bastion stations while their fleet is fully distracted, and as one erupts in nuclear fire I immediately notice an increase in tactical agility amongst my Lanterns.

"To keep what is mine, that is my right."

Orange light blazes out of my personal lantern and into my rings, because bulldozing a system designed to stop Lanterns bulldozing it does a number on your energy reserves. As I watch the ongoing fight one squad gets creative and uses a cored Reach battleship as mobile cover. I make a note of the Lantern who came up with the idea and decide to single them out for praise when this is over. Even if it's just a large mass of ablative armour, using something that isn't a construct shield will be a massive saving on ring power, and the Reach knows to target Lanterns who are recharging.

Case in point, the stealthed Scarab Warrior closing in on me who thinks that I can't see through his stealth system.

They stop once my lantern vanishes back into subspace, no doubt deducing that they've missed their window. We have reasonable intelligence on how fast Scarab Warriors can move, and I was careful to stay further than that away from the ongoing engagement. So now the Warrior has to decide whether to keep coming and try to get a lucky shot in, stay where he is, go back to the furball the Reach is currently losing, or flee out of the system. Since L.E.G.I.O.N. is winning I don't need to force the issue. I imagine that Dox would quite like a Scarab Warrior captured either alive or dead so that we can get a better look at one, but I'm still rather peeved with him at the moment.

Casualties on our side appear to be light. Not really committing the Lanterns, ordering them to go slow, has prevented any of them from being killed. The Reach don't appear to have a doctrine for fighting Lanterns and fleets at the same time, probably because the Green Lantern Corps didn't fight like that. Or maybe there isn't much they can do here due to the disparity in the levels of force involved. L.E.G.I.O.N. ships are getting damaged and I'm sure that some of their crew are dying, but their armour and internal bulkheads appear to be working to keep deaths down. All in all, a relatively happy outcome, save for the absence of the supreme commander.

Oh, I may as well deal with this.

Construct armour, construct FTL jammer, construct graviton gun.

"Yes, I can see you."

The Scarab Warrior maintains stealth, but shapeshifts a heavy shield and improved booster array. I create a construct of his exact appearance next to me to demonstrate exactly how thoroughly his concealment has been penetrated.

"That won't work. Surrender, and I am prepared to offer you parole with a neutral third party for the duration of the war. Otherwise, I will kill you."

"I have killed Lanterns before, meat."

"I doubt it. Oh, Scarabs have killed Green Lanterns, but you specifically? I doubt that they'd put a Scarab with that sort of experience somewhere like this, and… Anyway, Green Lanterns are police. Splendid people for the most part, but they're not dyed in the wool killers like we are. And I'm afraid that I'm only meat out of habit these days."

"So?"

He forms his left arm into a gun and I'm moving as it fires, secondary weapons appearing on his shoulders as he jinks in a doomed attempt to avoid my fire. False sensor images and holograms fire in all directions but none of them have desires and at this distance I can see the very particular desire-set of the scarab parasite itself. My graviton gun fires a moment later and hits his shield, which suddenly becomes about a thousand times heavier than it was a moment before. That doesn't harm the Scarab Warrior but it does make a mess of his shapeshifting and flight control. His secondary weapons strike my construct armour to little effect-

I guess Earth really is hard mode.

-as I close the distance, hitting his legs with my graviton gun and effectively crippling his acceleration. As well as probably causing all sorts of unpleasant internal injuries, though the scarab probably doesn't care much about that.

"Surrender-"

The scarab's arm gun fires again, shot passing over my right shoulder while the secondaries target my gun construct. I let it fade.

"-and you will not be killed."

"Die now and I will not burn your world!"

I stop dodging and form a construct shield, letting the scarab fire every weapon it can directly at me. The main gun is… Interesting. It's abrading layers, but I'm using an ablative design and it's… Holding up as well as it does when Guy tries to breach it. The secondaries are actually doing more damage with raw power, and it only takes the scarab about two seconds to notice that and shift its weapon.

I step out

and grab it in a construct clamp the moment I return to the material universe, x-ionised blades cutting weapon morphs and-. Being defied by his armour as he loses mass in favour of molecular reinforcement fields, which prompts crumbler rams from me. A second later and his arms and legs are gone, flesh and directionless armour floating in the void. I take a fraction of a second more to shove them further away, then tear off the secondary weapons with brute force using a draconic claw construct.

The scarab itself is usually located about halfway up the back. I ram ultra-sharp construct blades through its thinning armour and assimila-.

My construct armour is battered as the scarab explodes!

I let it push me away from the centre of the blast, scanning for any residue as I do so. One of the severed arms is in one piece, and we'll be able to identify the host species from the tissue therein. Maybe even the individual if they were from a slave species and we've got their pre-conquest records. But the armour the scarab made is rapidly turning to dust and sloughing off.

Marvellous. Another species with a built-in suicide switch to prevent assimilation. Though at least with the Reach they might reasonably have seen us coming and actually worked on a way to prevent it.

"Illustres to Orange Lanterns in theatre, don't bother trying to assimilate Scarab Warriors. They just self-destruct."

I return my attention to the battle to find that it's mostly over. Several bastions are still in one piece, but they're purely on the defensive and trying to hold out as long as they can. Ships and Lanterns are bombarding them and they can't respond. The few surviving Reach ships are being hunted down and… There goes the last one.

"Flag Captain, you have fleet command. I need to speak-"

Even muted as his mind is, Dox is easy enough to find.

"-to Commander Dox."

 

3rd July 2012
10:44 GMT -5

As expected, Brande is waiting outside of his quarters. I don't know if he was waiting for me, or waiting for Dox to allow him in. He spots me at once, but doesn't show any overt sign of surprise at my arrival.

"We won, I take it?"

"Yes. The plan was essentially sound. We're heading back towards allied territory now, and Lanterns are striking at Reach assets across the outer sphere. I'd be there myself, but this happened."

"I see."

"Brande, what happened? One moment Dox was in fine fettle, then radio silence."

"I'm… He was observing the fleet's manoeuvres relative to the Reach, and then the gordanians appeared and he collapsed."

"Was he injured?"

"Ah, not… In any obvious fashion. There was no assassin, no overload on the bridge."

"So he just-. Decided not to talk?"

"No, he… Slumped. Became unresponsive to the bridge officers, to me and to the medics who attended to him. After your assumption of command was confirmed he was removed from the bridge. They brought him here because he didn’t appear to be in any danger of death and they wanted to keep the infirmary free in case they needed to receive casualties. He… Appeared to regain his awareness after perhaps ten minutes, at which point we were all ejected."

Alright. Something happened. He wasn't just ignoring us. It's hardly reasonable for me to complain if he had a stroke… Somehow, while wearing an orange power ring.

"I haven't kept up to date on the command structure of L.E.G.I.O.N. What's supposed to happen if the Supreme Commander is incapacitated?"

"Captains are supposed to follow their last orders to the best of their ability, pending the appointment of a successor. Vril assumes that his successor will need to be appointed by the N.E.M.O. Council, and as such there is no Vice-Commander or anything like that."

"Was I supposed to leave it up to them?"

"Vril has been working on the assumption that you would assume command of the Lanterns if he were incapacitated. But since the only point where those two command structures come together is with him… There's no provision for unified command on joint operations."

"So, what, did Dox think he was immortal?"

"I think it's more that he didn't see the need."

"I gave Dox the space he asked for so that he could establish himself. I've stayed away so I didn't distract from his authority. But if L.E.G.I.O.N. doesn't have a command hierarchy, that sounds like an issue I'm going to need him to change."

"I don't think that he will respond better to an ultimatum now, though I can see why you feel disappointed." He gestures to the door. "Shall we?"

"Illustres to Clarissi Dox. I'm outside. We need to discuss what just happened."

His head doesn't appear over my ring, but the door opens anyway. The inside is Spartan, a replica of his office onboard Ranx save for a bed in the corner. Dox doesn't look at me, staring into space from the chair he's slumped in, his uniform dishevelled. Was that from the medics?

I step inside, Brande following immediately behind. The door shuts a second later.

"Sir. What-?"

"Are you here to remove me?"

"No. Depending on what I hear here I may make a recommendation to the rest of the N.E.M.O. Council. However, at the moment the most I would suggest is that your position be changed to a purely strategic and logistical one. Before I make any such representation, I would like to know what happened from you."

"The ship. The Absolute Dominion. You're sure that it's Apokoliptian?"

"As sure as I can be without visiting either Apokolips or New Genesis and asking their shipwrights. I was feeling Grayven's soul when it fired."

He holds up his ring, the-. Oh. It's got a rather nasty-looking crack across the sigil.

"I was using my ring to maintain perfect awareness of the entire conflict zone. I knew the location of every mote of dust in the system." Breath hisses between his teeth. "I-. Was-. Drunk on data. And then the Apokoliptian ship opened a boom tube."

"You were overloaded?"

"I shouldn't have been. I can handle far more data than that."

I hold out my left hand and float his ring over to us as we attempt to read its presence in the Honden. Oh, we know this.

Dox's ring shimmers slightly as it repairs itself, then I hold it out to him. He doesn't turn his head, but his eyes turn my way and he looks… Uncertain.

"Spent a lot of time around the magicians, have you?"

"Yes. I need to understand how their work can aid me in the war."

"And you spent some time on Lantern Coutara's homeworld?"

"Magic." He frowns absently. "You think I've been ench-. No, that I've acquired a minor ability, and my ring picked up and relayed a data stream I haven't learned to parse. That-. Would explain-."

"I'm not sure exactly why, but there was a sudden burst of data transmission when Grayven started firing his main gun."

He turns his seat to face us, his gaze remaining distant… But in a more focused way as he straightens his uniform.

"I can create boom tubes. It should be simple enough to learn how to filt-."

"It was still a darn silly thing to do to put yourself in that position."

Now he focuses, eyes narrowing as he stares at me. "We have only a handful of Lanterns with any sort of arcane ability. There was absolutely no reason for me to assume that-."

"There was no reason for you to be scanning the system in that sort of detail. If you think that sort of field data analysis is necessary, then we get some more Lanterns who share your data fixation and have them do it. You're the Supreme Commander; you can't be on every major fleet engagement."

"This one needed to succeed. I couldn't trust anyone else with something this important."

"And your flag captain and I ended up running it anyway. I think that proves that you can."

"I'll review the.. data."

"No, you're going to stick something with lights on it to your forehead and go back to the bridge and reassure everyone that you're a competent commander, a belief that today took exactly the sort of knock you sent me to Earth to avoid."

"What are you talking about? My mind is fine, as long as I don't-."

"Because if people believe that you were singled out for an exotic attack which you need a device to shield against, that undermines you a lot less than them finding out that you metaphorically shot your own legs off because you're a data junkie."

"That… Is not an entirely unreasonable claim." He slides his ring back onto his left ring finger and extends a filament to his forehead and creates what looks like a Star Trek cortical stimulator. "Adequate?"

"I think so. But once this is over, you and I and Director Jeddigar need to have a talk about our organisational structures."

 

3rd July 2012
10:51 GMT -5

Dox walks confidently back onto the bridge, his eyes focusing not on the other members of the bridge crew or on the main screen, but on the numerous minor status indicators arranged around it. Of course Dox isn't going to be a summary man. The flag captain hasn't taken Dox's seat, so he just strolls on over to it and begins calling up status reports. Bridge crew hesitate uncertainly, then one after another their eyes alight on the shining lights of the empty box attached to his forehead. The light of false comprehension dawning, they return to their duty stations with renewed vigour.

My own entry to the bridge passes largely unremarked, and by the time Brand reaches the command podium everyone is focusing on their tasks. What to do now? Dox will give me an order in a couple of minutes just to reinforce his authority so I can't disappear. I'm getting updates from the ship's computer via my ring, but as Dox demonstrated he's far better at processing that sort of thing than I am. Mundane data, anyway.

I'm not completely convinced that the problem he had was with magic, exactly. But I felt Grayven doing something which coincided with the ship's main gun firing. It's perfectly possible to interact with magic using a power ring and I know that Dox is highly skilled with his. Yes, I've… Been assuming that it would require a level of spiritual awareness that he doesn't have, but I'm happy with the idea that there's more than one route to a skill.

The alternative is that he literally just overloaded his brain with data and actually gave himself a mini-stroke. I doubt that's what happened as his ring should have prevented it as long as he wanted to continue to be aware of the incoming data, but I don't think I'm going to look too closely into it just in case.

Instead, I look out through the hull of the ship at the other Lanterns in the fleet, spread out as they are across this segment of the outer sphere of Reach territory. The gleeful killers and retribution-seekers are raring to go, while the more disciplined ones are simply focused on the job before them. I-

"This is Vril Dox, Supreme Commander of L.E.G.I.O.N. and Clarissi of the Orange Lantern Corps. I have recovered from a minor neural shock created by the Apokoliptian Grayven and am now resuming command of the operation."

I raise my left hand slightly. "This is the Illustres. I yield command."

I then turn, looking back from the way we came, deeper into Reach space. Still don't have a great handle on how they think, and at this distance, without something specific to aim my gaze at, we'd have to have made a much bigger impression than we did for me to see much of anything.

I glance over to Dox and spot that he's moved on to the reports from the Lanterns attacking the periphery. That's as good an opening as any. I walk towards him, and he looks up as I pass through his command station's shield.

"Sir. How are we doing?"

"The Reach ships are pulling back. Most likely, they're going into survival mode until they can get either orders from their regional command or reinforcements."

"They're not just abandoning this part of the periphery? I thought that was how the Reach usually responded to a concerted attack. Those ships could make it to the next periphery region without too much difficulty."

"The most likely reason is propaganda. They know perfectly well that we're going to tell everyone on our side of the periphery exactly what they do with worlds they annex, with all the evidence and testimonies we can gather."

"They're destroying evidence?"

"Or creating a false narrative that we hunted down helpless trading vessels. Or perhaps they don't want to make themselves look weak to periphery worlds not presently aligned with us. The fact that they usually do a thing in a particular way is no indication that they will continue to do so forever. We might not be the first time that they've had to deal with significant opposition but we are the first time that someone has tried to envelop their entire border."

"We could ask-. Some of those Lanterns to take ships in one piece. If they're just armed merchantmen and there aren't any Scarab Warriors present, it's a manageable risk."

"No, we need them here."

He brings up a holographic image of a… World the Reach seized a generation or two ago. I'm not seeing much in the way of defences, which makes sense. We're the main threat to the Reach in this region, and they wouldn't put defences that could stop us on a world they don't particularly care about. They'd much rather counterpunch us with ships and scarabs than build fixed defences they can't support.

"What, all of them?"

"No, just the ones reliable enough to trust to do anything complex with their rings."

…

Fair point. Ragnar is a great fighter and master-at-arms, but I'm still not sure that he'd turn down an opportunity to duel with a Scarab Warrior in order to do something of strategic value. And most of the others… Their self-control isn't good enough to ensure that they'd stick to the mission with the orange light influencing them. Normally that's fine, but it does somewhat limit our options in situations like this.

"So what's special about it?"

"The dominant intelligent species is still populous and -to the best of our knowledge- unmodified."

I frown. "Collaborators?"

"We don't have any pre-annexation records. They weren't fond of other species before the Reach absorbed them, and the local monitoring was too good for a Darkstar team to penetrate for long enough to learn anything until recently. There should be a team there now, and we'll get a data burst once we arrive."

"You wouldn't be putting this level of resource in on the off-chance. What do you think is happening?"

"Material resources are plentiful in the universe. Energy is freely available in any of a hundred different ways. The Reach aren't primitive raiders like the gordanians or philosophical obsessives like the Apokoliptians. If they're holding a planet contrary to their usual manner of operating, there's something unique there that they want."

"You read my reports on the future of my own species, I assume."

"Certainly." Gosh, he's mellowed out all of a sudden. "And that's the approach I would expect them to take. Breeding a species for a useful trait if they can't engineer it into themselves or a device, and conditioning them to loyalty. That doesn't appear to be what has happened here."

"I assume that you want me on it?"

"I want you on the planet supporting the Darkstar team the moment we know what's going on."

I nod.

"Speaking of useful traits, do you know what's happening on Colu at the moment? The last I heard, a Green Lantern Honour Guard strike force was attacking the Computer Tyrants."

"Coluans would make better analysts than most alternatives. If they were willing to work with me."

"You're not even biologically identical to your tissue donor."

"He isn't biological any longer. But that's beside the point. And irrelevant. The Green Lanterns managed to land on Colu and destroy the Computer Tyrant defence force, but the majority of the population remain locked in the simulations. And with the Computer Tyrants effectively running on their neural structures and adapting to the Green Lantern Corps' attempts to extract them, it's a deadlock."

"Nothing you can do to help?"

"I'm the most intelligent Coluan there has ever been, but I can't outthink a billion other Coluans running in parallel."

"Do the Computer Tyrants have radio telepathy?"

"Not a version that's compatible with an unmodified organic brain."

"The Martians do owe us a few big favours. We could probably telepathically transfer people out of the simulation. Reduce the Computer Tyrants' hardware capacity."

"I'll give it some thought. Hm." He changes a screen, and turns the sound dampening around us right down. "We're being intercepted by a security fleet. Mercenaries. Capture as many as you can for questioning."

Check position… Feel them.

"Certainly, sir. Back shortly."

 

3rd July 2012
10:59 GMT -5

"…matter what you do to me, you damned bilge-rat!"

I suppose that in the grand scheme of things she's not wrong. I send a construct-spike up into the second cruiser's primary drive, my construct shield easily absorbing the fire from its frigate escort.

These clearly aren't Reach ships, just small fleets they hire to 'provide security' in the areas they're observing. Mostly to make sure that external parties don't get a better look at the Reach's true fleet capacity. And also to indulge in a little raiding here and there against targets who are reluctant to accept Reach 'protection'.

My construct shears snip through the shielding around the frigate's dorsal turret and slice it clean off the hull.

Still, on the off-chance that they're a reasonably upstanding private security firm, I'd rather not slaughter them out of hand. Heck, Dox would probably hire them on in a slightly modified version of their current role if he thought they'd keep to the terms of the contract.

Probably need to stick their ships back together a bit, first.

"I'm still perfectly willing to accept your surrender."

The cruiser that still has guns fires another volley… In my general direction. I'm close enough that sensor lag shouldn't be a problem, so I… Guess that their gunnery just isn't accurate against small targets?

"May I ask why you're so insistent about this?"

I'm not transmitting to their communications array. I'm broadcasting to every communications device on each of the ships, which means that the entire crew can hear that I'm saying that I'm not interested in fighting them.

"Because you're enslaving people's minds and forcing them to serve you!"

I frown, scoffing as the shears snip through the hull, severing a main power conduit and causing the ship's safeties to shut down most of the ship's systems.

"You work for the Reach."

"We do not work for the Reach!"

"You're a Security Fleet in the Reach Periphery. Who do you think you work for?"

"It's a development zone!"

"That's technically an accurate statement, yes."

I grab the now-disabled frigate and reduce its relative momentum to zero before shoving it into a cluster with the other crippled ships.

"In the same sense that I 'develop' a forest when I cut it down so I can build a mine. Look, you're running out of functioning ships. Once they all stop working the option for parole rather evaporates."

"I won't be-!"

There's a… Humming sound.

"Commodore?"

The still-mobile ships kill their acceleration and close what still-functioning gun ports they have.

"This is Captain Graan. The commodore-."

"Say no more. Do you have the authority to negotiate with me?"

"At the moment, yes. What are your intentions?"

"I'm going to check your crew for Reach plants or mental tampering. After that, you'll have a choice between leaving the region or remaining. I will warn you now that if you opt to remain, we will take a significantly closer look at what you've been doing in this region."

"And what else?"

"The Orange Lantern Corps doesn't hold naked self-interest against people. If your company made a deal with the Reach to keep yourselves alive… Heck, I'd probably have done the same in your position. But we're going to be working with the people of this region and expelling the Reach with extreme violence. If you or particular members of your company have gained too much notoriety, then I'm afraid that we'll give you a show trial and then kill you because we're not offering you a chance to live because we're nice but more because you're not worth the bother."

"I'm not-. We just do patrols."

"Then you probably won't have anything to worry about. And of course if you accept parole and come back while the war is still ongoing then we'll automatically kill you, so that's not a safe option."

Quick scan…

"I'm afraid that I'm going to need to rush you. My presence is required elsewhere."

"Is that something we can assist with?"

"Possibly. I'm willing to suspend judgement and offer payment relative to the level of aid you are actually able to provide."

I begin jamming communication out from the fleet. They can talk to each other, but they can't warn anyone else.

"We're liberating the Reach-held world of Callallan. Any data you can provide on Reach operations there would be appreciated."

"We have.. maps-?"

"We have maps. I was really more talking about-."

And there's the emergency transponder squawk Reach plants use.

"Excuse me a moment."

I step out

and reappear next to… Oh, that's a bit obvious. They weren't even trying to keep their mind-state anything like it's original shape. I grasp the purple flesh of the plant's bald head and brand. Are they-?

The sigil shimmers into existence and the Reach-programmed 'security' operative drops their communicator.

No suicide device. Low priority, or a long term asset, I wonder?

"Sorry, one of your crew just tried sending a message out. Looks like a class two neural overlay. Might I suggest vetting people in future?"

"You're-? On board?"

"Not on your ship. I felt that having a conversation remotely might make things easier. Make me a little less intimidating. So I'm afraid that I'm going to have to take this gentleman off your hands until we can get it removed. Can I ask-?"

"We will accompany you and offer you any and all aid. Some.. of our ships will need repairs-."

"No no, I'll just drag them with us. You're far too slow anyway. Please bear in mind that I'm going to be really upset if you try and backstab me."

"I will not forget."

"Good show."

I

step

back outside the ship and drag the more distant vessels together.

"Warp in two, one, now."

 

3rd July 2012
11:05 GMT -5

"-ly impressed that you didn't kill her."

"She… Wasn't a bad commanding officer. … What..?"

"What am I going to do with her?"

Since they've effectively surrendered, I'm doing the new Commodore the courtesy of communicating with him directly, rather than undermining him by sharing with everyone. And since he isn't an idiot, he's sharing the communication with the captains and commanders of the other vessels. They appear to have ratified his assumed authority for now, but he might well not continue to occupy that position once the crisis I represent has passed.

"Yes."

"Check for Reach reprogramming, review all of her communications with the Reach and known Reach factors. Reach programming will be removed to the best of our ability. Then unless she's done anything particularly infamous of her own free will, we'll hand her back to you."

"Some-. You left one of my crew with a glowing mark on his forehead."

"Removing Reach neural programming is delicate work, not something that it's practical to do in the field. That will prevent it having any further effect until I can hand him over to a L.E.G.I.O.N. specialist. The type of mark I used can be easily removed, and no one subjected to it has demonstrated any long term adverse effect."

"I see."

"Though you should feel free to consult an independent specialist to confirm what I'm telling you. I won't be of-"

The warp ends, and the small fleet and I appear in-system close to the planet.

"-fended."

I see from the wreckage that Dox has already destroyed the picket fleet and defence stations. Part of the fleet -including his flag ship- is over the capital, while the rest is moving in patrols across the system.

"Illustres to Clarissi."

"You captured them without difficulty?"

"One with Reach programming, one other possible. The ships are repairable and not really a threat to us. I brought them here because they might know-."

"I have their database. Pharmaceuticals. The locals are regarded as being 'compliant'-." There's a brief delay. "The Darkstars have located the Reach Assimilator and her Scarab Warrior bodyguard."

I look down at the planet-. There we are.

"Moving to assist."

This time I don't step out. The Reach probably can't stop me, but if they can the device would be placed on a compliant planet they wanted to keep hold of. I wouldn't expect to encounter that sort of device this early on, but it's not as if conventional Lantern flight is exactly slow.

"Are you in contact with Reach or local authorities?"

"The assimilator isn't responding. Local authorities are informing me that I'm invading a sovereign world."

"Well. Yes?"

"They emphasise that they are 'a world with no significant military force'."

"Are they trying to convince you that they're not a threat, and so we should leave?"

"Perhaps. It's also possible that they're trying to convince me not to bombard them. I haven't had enough exposure to their culture to reliably discern the implied subtexts. And given what just happened, I think I'll leave that for now."

I nod as I speed closer to the planet, now easily able to make out the areas of city. It's actually.. a bit like Maltus; they've gone for high rise cities separated by large expanses of wilderness. There's a more definite separation between the buildings rather than the semi-arcology that Maltusian cities have, but the general layout feels familiar.

"Do you want any of the Reach officials captured?"

"It might be helpful. Use your judgement."

"Will do. Illustres out."

The city I'm heading for is clearly in lockdown; armoured shutters are deployed over everything that has them, the streets are clear with an alarm playing loudly to make sure that it stays that way. The more important buildings have weak force fields protecting them, though they're so weak that I assume that they're just meant to protect against near-misses and infantry weapons.

One of the buildings that very definitely has both shutters and shields is the Reach 'embassy', and both of them have rather large holes in them where the Darkstars went in. I begin decelerating as I get close enough to participate in any fighting.

"Illustres to Darkstar team. With you shortly. Where do you want-"

A Darkstar flies out of the hole!

"-me?"

They keep going down the street, firing their masers back towards the building. The Scarab Warrior flies out a moment later, tanking the shots on a pair of heavy shields. Before I arrived, the comparatively weaker guns the Darkstars used would have meant that the Scarab Warrior probably wouldn't have bothered with the shields. Still, taking-.

A maser shot from a nearby building hits the scarab in the left wing, literally winging them. A shot from a different building hits the other wing, melting the membrane and part of the stronger leading edge. The warrior is just able to turn in time to block a micro missile volley but that exposes their back to their original target, who ceases their flight to give in both barrels.

Those masers are powerful, but they're powerful by easily concealed infantry weapon standards. The Scarab Warrior expands his armour and reconfigures his helmet to scan for the stealthed Darkstars.

"He's scanning."

Shots from three different directions slam into his face, staggering him and causing smoke to rise from his faceplate.

"We know."

The next attack is a heavy plasma beam, drilling through the armour on the right arm just behind the shapeshifted shield. It doesn't quite sever the limb, but the shield ripples and flows back to patch over what was clearly a serious injury. The Warrior responds with a positron ray along the exact path of the plasma beam, but the Darkstar has already repositioned themselves and the shot misses. If the Warrior weren't already blinded that would probably have hit, but scarabs can only repair their host's organic form so quickly.

"Alright. If you don't need me, I'll-"

A Darkstar rises up through the street behind the Scarab Warrior. They turn, shield in place with their wounded arm shifting into a sonic cannon. But it's their wounded arm, and the shift happens just a little too slowly as the Darkstar closes the distance and swings a sword through the outstretched limb. This time it is severed, the Darkstar following up with swings at the head and chest which go around the shield and slice through the armour. The Warrior staggers back and tries to expand their shield but with them blinded the Darkstar easily sidesteps and impales them.

"-leave you to it."

The Scarab Warrior collapses to the ground, Reach-citizen blood pouring out of the rents in their armour. The Darkstar makes a point of severing and then bisecting their head before glancing up at me.

"Do you want the scarab?"

I drop to the street, rip the weapon AI off the late Warrior's spine with a construct and attempt-.

It explodes.

"They saw us coming. I take it that the Assimilator is still in residence?"

 

3rd July 2012
11:11 GMT -5

Empathic vision shows me the positions of the Darkstars who follow me into the… I don't like calling it an 'embassy'. It isn't one. It's the centre of government for everything the Reach care to control directly, while maintaining a paper thin disguise that the opinion of the local 'rulers' matters at all. But there isn't another word for that. 'Assimilatorium' just sounds ridiculous.

I see locals cowering out of the way as I walk, but all of the blood I see is the right colour for it to have come from the garrison of Reach soldiers. I imagine that the Darkstars are rather enjoying the turnabout from the old way of things, when a garrison was difficult and a Scarab meant death, and I approve of the lack of collateral damage.

"Anyone home?! There's.. really nothing to be gained by hiding at this point!"

"So it would seem."

The Reach Assimilation Specialist in charge walks slowly into view, hands down and clearly visible. Some Assimilation Specialists get augmentations or scarabs, but my scans don't show anything like that here. This one is female, and the robes she wears are grey and green.

"Ah! Hello, Assimilation Specialist. I am the Illustres of the Orange Lantern Corps and I'm here to accept your surrender."

"I think that you are unduly optimistic."

"Probably, but I have to ask. It doesn't look good if we just go around slaughtering people who aren't actively resisting, and we need the popular support."

"And what would you do with me if I surrendered?"

I smile. "I'd put your face on the evening news on a thousand worlds. In practical terms it makes very little difference as… Well, we've won here."

"Are you certain?"

"Certain? No. If living on Earth has taught me anything, nothing is certain. That thing three generations of my species thought was a small planet turned out to be a giant frozen starfish." I shrug. "But as sure as I can reasonably be."

"You say that you are concerned with how this looks to a wider audience. Would-?"

"Look, I've listened to a lot of villainous monologues. Could you please skip to the actionable part of the threat?"

There's a slight hardening in her expression.

"Very well. I'm holding the entire infant population of this planet hostage. If I die, they all die. If I decide to kill them, they all die."

Hm.

"Alright, and that would look bad, but it doesn't change the strategic situation. Do you intend to negotiate for something, or do you just want me to know before you kill them? Because I have to warn you, I'm not a Green Lantern. I don't care all that much about the suffering of people I don’t know."

"No one in the Reach government will consider me responsible for your people winning a few fleet engagements. But the people of this world will remain loyal to the Reach for as long as my hand remains to the activation switch."

I try a more detailed scan, and she smiles as she sees my eyes go orange.

"It's not literally a simple button. We have been aware that this war was coming for some time. There are a dozen sophisticated channels of communication linking me to the activation switch, and any interference at all will activate the system. A normal Lantern could stop perhaps two. A Lantern who specialised in data analysis like your Coluan or that space station AI might get as many as half."

"So… You expect us to let you stay here."

"In my estimation, there's a sixty percent chance that you will. Without a fleet here this planet isn't an active threat, and you haven't planned this war with the assumption that you'll be able to resupply locally. The adverse publicity wouldn't be a major blow, but it would be worse than ignoring me."

"And the other forty?"

"Thirty nine that you'll try and disarm it and fail. One percent that you'll kill me out of spite."

"None that we'll successfully disarm it?"

"No. We're rather good at death traps."

"Alright, well, be that as it may, I'm going to need to confirm the existence of this trap. I assume we can look at it without setting it off?"

"Certainly. The locals do like to visit their gestating offspring." She smiles, and Reach citizens… Don't have a good face for smiling. I'm not sure if it's the nose or the reduced mobility or the blatantly sinister intent… Not a good look. "Come with me."

I bow sarcastically as she walks past me, then follow her towards the normal entrance of the building. She waves at the somewhat intact console and the shutter covering the building tries to retract. It fails, the building's internal power network too badly damaged to make it do more than shudder. She stops then turns her head towards me.

"Would you mind?"

Treating a high ranked enemy as if they were a servant. This is going to be petty and annoying and if I wasn't fairly sure that I was going to win anyway I might walk back to the blasted hole out of spite.

I can detect some of the communication carriers. Intent as well as more normal forms of mundane and exotic transmission. Not a dozen, but they're sophisticated enough that I'm happy to accept the idea that there could well be others I'm not seeing. I can't tell from a cursory examination whether or not I could fake them to a sufficient standard to satisfy the dead man's switch system.

But.

There are still plenty of ways to prevent her dead man's switch going off. Sticking her in a medical coma and leaving her there while a telepath manipulates her thoughts into the 'right' shape would probably work, because a 'perfect' system is still depending on a perfectly flawed trigger condition. But killing a large number of people at exactly the same time will require a device to do the actual killing, and blocking that sounds a heck of a lot easier than trying to interfere with the detection end of the system.

"Of course not."

I slam a construct crumbler gauntlet into the shutter and it decays to dust.

"There you are."

Ring, transmit to the Darkstars.

Compliance.

Any truth to what she's saying?

Rather than a verbal response, someone on the team sends me a data file.

The locals… Reproduce in a way which uses eggs as a stage. More like fish eggs than bird eggs, the requirement for an aquatic environment and protection means that each city has a structure dedicated to housing them while they develop. When the Reach took the planet they took control of the incubators and booby trapped them. No problem with putting your egg in and taking it out seven months later as long as the planet stays loyal, but it means that every single family has a hostage while their egg is in there.

And naturally the Reach has been watching closely to make sure that everyone uses their incubators and no one is building any outside of their control. Still not totally sure why that was their only point of control; the Reach are usually really subtle in the early stages, and with direct access to their eggs I'd have expected them to go in there with the neural pruning.

I'll have to wait until we arrive to get a closer look.