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

[Mr Zoat]

13th August
19:32 GMT -6

I look at the Controller lying motionless on the bier. Pinkie, bluey and Ghia'ta have all followed me here, though I'm not really sure why. Guess it's a slow day for entertainment around here. The woman's pyjamas consist of blue leggings and a purpley-red top. Hm. She looks clean, so either they're at least giving her basic nursing care or Controllers don't excrete. I'd have said the latter, but then I became a god and I still shit. Why should they get an opt-out when I don't?

"Great, thank you. I'll get out of your hair now." I reach forward with my right hand, which suddenly encounters resistance. I give the invisible barrier a prod, then turn my head halfway back toward my escort. "Something I can do for you?"

"Our sister may deign to assist you if you restore her." It's the pink one. "But I do not intend-."

"You left her here for three billion years. I don't know what you intended but it's clearly not working."

"She was reduced to this state after forging the ring you now wear."

"One of the rings I now wear. And I'm not giving it back. If you want to keep a thing, don't throw it away." My right hand still can't move. "What?"

"What is your intent?"

"Take her to Okaara, which is where the Orange Central Power Battery is." Actually… "Though I'm surprised that you don't know that. I'm a little fuzzy on the timelines, but the Guardians were still using Manhunters when they approved Larfleeze keeping it and I seem to remember you and them going your separate ways only after the Manhunter Revolt."

"Your knowledge is incomplete."

"Thought it might have been. Still, you weren't exactly straining to help her yourselves. Now, are you going to get out of my way or do I need to become impolite, because I'm pretty sure I could break this barrier if I set my mind to it."

"You would not escape us."

"Yeah, I've seen what happens when the Controllers try picking a fight with the guy holding the Orange Central Power Battery. It didn't go your way."

In the corner of my eye I see Ghia'ta's right hand twitch toward her face before she gets it back under control and forces it to her side. "Grayven-."

"Though if you're really that worried about her -three billion years later- you're welcome to accompany me. Either of you or any of your confederates. I'll give you until I count 'four' to decide. One."

"Grayven, that is not the-"

"Two."

"-way."

"I will accompany the savage, brother." I withdraw my hand and turn to face bluey. "If only to take the Orange Central Power Battery when his reach finally exceeds his grasp."

"Fine with me." I raise my eyebrows at the pink one. "You?"

"The Controllers will tolerate this, under our brother's oversight."

"Glad to hear it." I turn back to the bier, reaching out with both hands… Nothing blocks them as I use my right hand to support her head and grab her around the middle with my left. She isn't Guardian-short, but she's shorter than most people and compared to me she's tiny. Now, how to hold her..? I put her head on my right shoulder, clamping her in place with my right forearm and leaving my left free. "Ghia'ta, you coming?"

"I think that I should."

"Rightoh." Sinestro, hush tube.

Do you intend to ask her about yellow rings, Corpsman?

No. Far easier just to ask the man we already know makes them.

Oh? I had rather gotten the impression that you were abjuring Qward.

Until I am ready. Once I have a Lantern Corps I'll be as ready as I'm going to get. I don't dismiss your advice out of hand.

Glad to hear it, Corpsman. Hush tube ready.

The tube-. Huh. It's visible here, pale violet lines wiggling around the periphery. Alright, I think that the Maltusians are ancient and learned enough that I don't feel cheated by that. Mindful of Hinon's relaxed body posture I stride through the tube and out into the chamber in which I killed Larfleeze.

"Excuse the mess. I haven't had time to clean the place up yet." Hm. I wonder if Tamaran has a central bank yet? I'm going to guess not, but-.

I stop in the air half way towards the outcrop of rock upon which the Central Power Battery rests. They don't have a central bank. I'm…

I'm going to use my university degree for something. I've actually.. studied this. I.. never thought I'd use it for anything.

My goodness me.

I got a two two and I get to actually use it on an entire planet. My sister got a first in forensics and I doubt that she'll ever murder anyone.

There's no justice.

"Grayven?" Ghia'ta is alongside me, looking at me with concern.

I shake my head. "Sorry, got distracted. Right!" I fly the rest of the way quickly, rising over the top of the rock and turning to face the pair of them. The Central Power Battery is as I left it, orange flames flickering all around it. I try to avoid looking inside the interior as I gently lay Hinon down next to it. Hm. It would be easier if the presence of the thing made her spontaneously awaken, but…

I look at the blue one. "I don't suppose you know anything about what happened to her, do you?"

"I believe that my brother might have been minded to tell you, had you been less obstinate."

Ghia'ta raises her right hand slightly. "I can go and ask him-."

"No, it's fine, I can probably work this out myself. Making rings requires orange light, so…" Show me.

By your command.

Huh. It's… Different to the souls of New Gods, but there's clearly quite a lot going on there. Or-. No, when I altered John Stewart 50 I had Father Box helping me. Now I'm just seeing what the ring can show me. Which is very little. I'm not sure if that's just because she's in a coma… No, I've used this on sleeping people before and below the surface they look more or less the same as when they're awake. Never used it on someone in a coma before, and I know that when long term coma patients wake up they tend to have various kinds of brain damage. Would that apply to a Maltusian?

Okay… So… Trickle in small amounts of orange light and hope that the bits I can't see are still there for it to connect to? Uh, no, first, Sinestro?

…

No response. I raise my right hand slightly and tap the ring. It shines weakly, then fades. Have to do, I suppose. Parallax Vision. Yellow lights appear before my eyes, showing me the structures of her fears. Weak, I'm not surprised that they've faded after three billion years, but still there.

"Ghia'ta, can you use the violet light to see love?"

"Yes."

"Would you mind taking a look at Ms Hannanan? I want to make sure that she still has emotional light within her."

She nods, her eyes glowing for a moment. She nods again, smiling. "Her loves are faded, but love still touches her."

"Good show." I slide my yellow ring off my finger and put it in one of my armour's pouches. I don't want to destroy it by accident after all. I then place my right hand on Hinon's chest and my left on the Orange Central Power Battery.

Guh. Keep it under control, Grayven.

"This is my power, this is my might!
I stand alone in darkest night!
With this ring, my foes I smite!
I conquer all with orange light!"

Orange light screams through me, showing me images of avarice and desire from a hundred billion civilisations, each crying out for me to want them need get take them! Oh, no, that's me screaming. I see the orange light pooling inside Hinon, forming shapes-.

I yank my hands back to my chest. That'll do, then.

…

I should have tried that with my personal lantern first, shouldn't I?

…

Whaw, Sinestro must be feeling really bad if he didn't pick up on that feed line.

"Eeuuagh." Hinon stirs, her eyes flickering for a moment before they open fully. Then she sees me.

Her face remains neutral as she considers me for a moment.

"Oh. Splendid."

 

[Mr Zoat]

13th August
19:37 GMT -6

"If it helps, I'm not exactly thrilled at the prospect either."

"Hmpf." She pulls herself into a sitting position, then looks around the chamber. "You've been busy."

"No, that all belonged to the last guy. The one the Guardians let keep the Orange Central Power Battery. I killed him. My name is Grayven and I'm from-."

"Apokolips. And you're wearing my ring." She frowns. "I distinctly remember throwing that into the Bleed, you know. However did you come by it?"

"I'm glad to see that you didn't lose any of your mental faculties during your three billion year nap." I hold out the middle three fingers of my right hand. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Young man, if you want something from me-."

"I just woke you up. You guttered your own link to the orange light and I restored it. From where I stand, I'd say that you owe me already."

"Were it not for the ring which you wear on your finger, I might be inclined to agree with you."

"You just told me that you threw it away. Did you misspeak? Did you in fact throw it away with the intent that it would reach me?"

"I was certain that it would reach someone. It wasn't meant to go to Apokolips."

"In that case, you are to be congratulated. It somehow ended up between Earth Prime and Earth Sixteen and may have played a role in my being returned to my home parallel."

"Prime? What do you mean by that?"

"It's a fascinating place whose structures absolutely don't support magic. Going there the first time utterly destroyed my soul and turned me into a Human."

She frowns. "That shouldn't have been possible."

"As I said: congratulations."

"Hm." She awkwardly pushes herself up, pausing for a moment as she notices the hand I'm holding out to her. She doesn't take it, rising to her feet and theatrically brushing the dirt from her trousers. "So; just what it is that you intend to demand from me while I'm enfeebled from my three billion year slumber?" She looks around again. "And where are we?"

"To answer your second question: we're in the Vega Systems. It's where the Guardians dumped the Psions when they grew tired of them."

Bluey perks up at that. "We were trying to allow them to recover their own culture."

I roll my eyes at him. "Well done. If it wasn't for their stay-at-home habits they'd be the next Dominion by now." I frown. "Ah, the Dominion might not have been a thing when you were last awake. They're a race with a ruling caste of evil scientists."

Hinon nods. "Ah, they've settled down then. I suppose that's progress. And what do you want?"

"Some sort of protective case for my Central Power Battery. It nearly entranced me and I'm a little nervous about letting anyone else anywhere near it."

"Present company excluded, presumably."

"If you couldn't take it you'd be useless to me and I assumed that Ghia'ta's use of the violet light would insulate her somewhat."

"And the hippy?"

Bluey's jaw tightens. "Excuse me, oh sister-."

"You're excused."

"I met him about half an hour ago and I don't really care what happens to him. If the worst comes to the worst I could always turn him into a construct."

"Unless he defeated you, took the Orange Light Fountain and the Entity contained therein for himself and launched an insane campaign of genocide across the universe."

I nod. "Yes, unless that happened. What's a Light Fountain?"

"What that is." She waves her right hand negligently at the Central Power Battery. "The prime connection to the orange light in the material universe. A proper Central Power Battery is the 'protective case', containing the light and making channelling it easier for lesser life forms."

"New God here."

"Yes, and that might explain why you've lasted as well as you have." She glances at the 'Light Fountain' again. "These fancy flames are a sign of leakage and waste, not that Krona had an attack of aesthetic concerns when he made it."

I suspected, but it's nice to have it confirmed. Alan's ring always did the same thing and there's no way that was in good repair. And-. "Wait, Krona? That lunatic the Guardians sentenced to incorporeality for fucking up the universe. He made it?"

"He did what?"

"Broke the universe by trying to look at the alpha event. You'd have to ask the hippy for details."

"The fact that I regard traditional Maltusian factionalism as foolish does not make me a hippy!"

"Oh, that's a shame. But not to worry, I'm sure that I can work with what he's left me."

"And go through and make sure that he hasn't left any sort of control system, because that would really get me down: him turning up and stealing all of my stuff. And some conventional rings and personal lanterns would be nice."

"How many were you thinking?"

I shrug. "I don't know. A few thousand."

She looks decidedly unimpressed. "Really. And what's in it for me?"

"A few thousand Lanterns. Plus you get to sort out a few of the Guardians' missteps in a way that you can hold over their heads forever."

"So these Lanterns will work for me, will they?"

"My Lanterns will work for me, and I may dispatch a proportion to assist my allies. You can recruit your own as well if you want. It's no skin off my nose."

"But you would keep the Central Power Battery."

"Once I destroy the Citadel there will be no significant interstellar power in this region of space. It will be far safer here than on the Reach's doorstep."

"And what does Yuga Khan think of this?"

"Grandfather's been missing in action for nearly as long as you have, and as far as I know father's never been here. And I don't care to serve either of them. Part of why I'm doing this is to gather enough power to ensure my ongoing independence."

"And that Anti-Life fragment in your soul isn't a mark of his favour?"

"He may regard it as such. I do not."

Hinon turns away from me, bending slightly to get a better look at the Light Fountain. "Keeping an entire Lantern Corps going would be quite a big job for me to do on my own."

"Since they're mostly going to be operating locally, all I absolutely need in the short term is the Central Power Battery. I have Larfleeze's ring reserve and can wait on the personal lanterns. Beyond that, the more other Controllers you convince to help, the more Lanterns they get. Failing that, it occurs to me that -properly re-educated- the Psions may have what it takes to aid you."

"A race of deranged scientists?"

I gaze levelly at her, unimpressed. "Sun-Eaters."

"Hmm. Not our finest hour. Still, if they've been a blight on the universe since we abandoned our uplift program… It might be a workable solution."

"Good. You get to work on that, I'll finish preparing the ground." I pat her on the back, and she doesn't move even slightly. Tough old biddy. "I'll check up on you when I've mustered my forces."

 

[Mr Zoat]

15th August
02:17 GMT -6

"It seems that you exaggerated your need for my aid, Mister Grayven."

I hold up both of my personal lanterns, the orange one now blazing as brightly as its yellow counterpart. For so long I've had to ration my recharges to what it could support, its capacitors recharging painfully slowly at times. Eighteen hours to recover a full ring-charge and incapable of storing more than two. Now I have a direct connection to the Orange Light Fountain I'm finally free of that restriction.

"It's hardly practical for an entire Corps to recharge themselves from a single personal lantern, even if it is technically possible."

Though now I think about it… Sinestro, where is your Central Power Battery?

I have no idea, Corpsman. Logically, it would either be somewhere on Qward Fifty or my personal lantern was designed to work without one. Given that I have continued functioning here, I think that the latter is more likely.

Ah, like Kyle Rayner's.

No, Corpsman. Rayner inherited Abin Sur's lantern, which was standard issue. I'm not clear why you would think otherwise.

Whoops. Or is it? No, I can just tell him.

Different parallel universe. Jordan got possessed and destroyed the Green Central Power Battery. The last thing Ganthet did was give an independent lantern to Rayner.

Ah. Clever. No Guardian would tolerate a personal lantern they could not shut down, not unless the situation was utterly dire. But I would not be surprised to learn that they had a plan in place should such a situation arise.

"True, you would need a rota. But it would be manageable."

"Why do you think I've been so abrasive? I assure you, if you were essential I would have been a good deal more deferential. You're my first choice, but you're not absolutely necessary. If you refused, I would try hiring a New God, then a Qwardian, and failing that I would temporarily accept a reduced operating status. But I have to be prepared to issue a point blank refusal if none of those I seek to do business with would offer acceptable terms."

"And all these rings."

And wasn't that a surprise. I distantly remember something about comic-Glomulus pretending to be a power ring, but apparently turning people into power rings is something which sufficiently powerful Orange Lanterns can just do. It certainly makes my 'go it alone' model a good deal more reliable. If I could stomach the act.

Which I probably could.

Ghia'ta steps out of a hush tube to my left, looking at me expectantly. I nod, returning the yellow personal lantern to subspace and following her back through the tube. We appear in a stone corridor near an open air amphitheatre the Tamaraneans abandoned after they so conclusively lost their war with the Citadel.

"Any new problems?"

"No, though I do not like how little training they have had. For an operation on such a scale-."

"We should expect fatalities. I know that. They know that. And they volunteered anyway, for a chance to free their people and strike down their enemies." I shake my head. "Orange power rings are exceedingly user-friendly. While I could teach them more sophisticated techniques, the gains we would get compared to the losses involved in leaving the Citadel active mean that it wouldn't be a proportionate exchange. I'll be sending them with drones and they'll have hush tubes, but there comes a point where you have to take events into your own hands. And Tamaran-"

Ghia'ta steps to the side as I shove open the wooden door.

"-has had enough of being controlled."

I stride through the opening, the sound from the stands cutting out almost immediately. No cheers, but I suppose for something like this that wouldn't be appropriate. I take a moment to look around, making eye contact here and there. Then I half-turn and proceed towards the centre of the amphitheatre.

On the day Komand'r was born, for no better reason than spite, the Gordanian 'occupation' force launched an orbital strike on Tamarus, destroying an entire district of the city and nearly everyone in it. The act was fairly efficacious, forever blackening the name of an innocent baby in the eyes of her fellow Tamaraneans. But as should have been obvious, she was very far from the only child born that day. Even with Tamaran's population being so much smaller than Earth's, there were tens of thousands of births.

So it really wasn't that hard finding two hundred people born that day who were willing to learn how to use power rings if it meant they got a shot at the people who wrecked their world.

"People of Tamaran! I have a present for you!"

There's a flicker of orange light just to my right, and the newly completed Orange Central Power Battery appears. Along with the woman who created it. Across the seating I see orange rings flicker as they respond to its presence.

"People of Tamaran! Lanterns! Today! Is the last day! On which anyone fears the Citadel! Today! Is the last day ! On which any Tamaranean fears the Psions! Or the Branx, or the Gordanians, or anyone else! Today! Is the first day! Of Tamaran's ascendancy!"

I see their rings glowing at the strength of their desires, and the pulses coming from the Orange Central Power Battery as it responds. I rise off the ground, floating out in front of the Battery with my arms wide. No one shouts, no one even whispers as Komand'r and Koriand'r come up alongside me.

"You know your objectives. You are to strike their fleet mercilessly, killing everyone. Let the suffering of your grandparents and your parents and yourselves be repaid in full this day! Leave nothing! And when you have destroyed your target move on to the next. Do not tarry. The Citadel did not become as powerful as they are by being completely stupid."

They should have a fairly target-rich environment. The Citadel Fleet has been expanding as the Ermanian shipyards complete their next generation of ships, but they are mostly being deployed away from the Citadel in preparation for the beginning of their crusade of conquest. The ships serving as the Citadel's defence force are on high alert, which means that most of the Citadelians who would normally be on the Citadel itself are shipboard and most of the vessels of other races who would normally be stopping off at the Citadel Complex have politely but firmly been shooed away. There will be some -whom we'll be killing- as well as a slave population whom we will be endeavouring to evacuate, but we're mostly looking at a target-rich environment while armed with weapons of untold destructive capacity wielded by people driven to complete mercilessness. I did briefly toy with the idea of keeping the Citadel and using it ourselves, but it's a symbol of such malevolence that I don't think it's worth it.

And it's not as if there aren't other deserving people around here whom we can relieve of their space-based infrastructure. Two hundred and three lanterns can pull better than a fleet of tugs, especially at faster than light speeds.

"Orange Lanterns! Today we fight! Today we kill! Today we achieve victory! Now raise! Your! Rings!"

My left fist punches the air in perfect time with theirs, the princesses at my side copying the gesture.

"This is our power, this is our might!
We stand alone in darkest night!
With these rings, our foes we smite!
We conquer all with orange light!"

A colossal wave of orange power envelops the amphitheatre as two hundred and three rings report their status.

"Charge at one hundred percent capacity."

I grin.

"Jean, open the hush tubes."

 

[Mr Zoat]

15th August
02:23 GMT -6

My right arm is up and pointing at Emperor Damyn as his retinue come to their feet and reach for their weapons, plasma from my forearm-mounted fusion cannon already burning through the air between us to disintegrate his entire torso.

"Goodbye."

I grin as the hush tube behind me shuts down and raise my daiklave. A Citadelian on my left raises a plasma weapon only to be shot in the head by one of my blaster drones, sending him staggering and dropping, his not quite dead body shaking and spasming as his gun clatters to the deck.
Strike them down!
And then I lunge, batting the feasting table aside with my left hand so that it slams into the Citadelian officers on my left and obscures the line of sight of the soldiers on that side of the room. A backhand swing from my daiklave cleaves through the armour of another officer, breaking though into his chest and cutting a bloody slash out of the other side. I get a momentary flash of him vomiting blood as I move on to the next target.
Destroy all rivals!
Another Citadelian, this one with slightly fancier armour. He has enough time to raise his arms into a blocking position, his armour's force field producing a weak translucent shimmer in the air between us. Then my daiklave hits it and it fractures and fades, his forearms tumbling aside as the blade slices through just above the elbows and continues on into and through his neck.
Overrun their defences!
The drones start firing again as the guards recover from their initial shock, blaster bolts punching through helmets, faces and skulls to get at the juicy brains within.
Hack them down!
The third officer has enough sense to throw himself backwards, earning a death from my fusion cannon as I turn my left arm across my body for a moment before pointing it at an officer scrambling to leave the room and firing again. His upper right arm and most of his shoulder evaporate, the force of the blast sending him staggering sideways even as the heat and radiation cook every part his armour doesn't protect.
Hold their redoubt!
I lower my blade and raise my fusion cannon, lending its support to the drones as Citadelians fall all around me. As decapitation strikes go, this isn't going to be anything like as fatal to the Citadel's war effort as it would have been a few weeks ago. Too many smart Citadelians have moved into NCO positions for them to be quite as dependent on clear orders from on high. Still-

The last Citadelian in the room falls to a high powered purple death ray shot to the heart.

-I think this will disrupt higher order coordination quite nicely. Alright. Sinestro, match these armours and cybernetics to our records. Did we get all of the admirals?

No, Corpsman. Only one of these people holds that rank. The rest are most likely the Emperor's closest lackeys.

I nod, taking a few steps in the direction of the Citadel's bridge and kicking a corpse out of the way as I go.

Any of these the new model?

No, Corpsman. At least, I cannot detect any significant difference in their physiology. After a man is dead it is so much harder to find out what he is thinking.

Fair enough.

I stride towards the control centre, drones zipping in ahead of me, light from their weapons fire causing rippling waves of purple and orange to decorate the walls. There are a few screams and roars-. I pause, frowning. No Psions. There's usually one or two around the command section to keep an eye on their leading business partner. Odd. Though… Not an immediate concern.

I stride into the command centre, smiling slightly at the Citadelians dead at their stations. Hrrr. The things I could do with their external defence systems if their fleet was a little further away. Ah well. I raise my left arm, point it at the armour protecting their computer core and fire. The howling blast of hydrogen ions bore through the shielding and metal and incinerate the delicate computer system beyond. Local defence stations can still be operated manually of course, but that will put paid to their higher organisation.

I raise my left hand to my face. "Grayven reporting. The Emperor is dead and the Citadel's bridge is scoured of life."

"Komand'r here. Their teleportation hub won't be teleporting living soldiers this day."

"Nicely done. Move on to your secondary targets."

"Phyrel here. Admiral Zartac is dead by my hand!"

Commander of the Citadel's defence force. There are a few other admirals around, but he had seniority. "Good, but remember what I said about getting pinned down."

"I have not forgotten, and I have not yet had my fill of Citadel blood. Moving to secondary target."

"Koriand'r here. I have… Found something."

I frown. "What, you don't recognise the reactor? Don't worry about it. Just stick a mine on it and retreat. The bigger the explosion, the better."

"No, I recognise the reactor, but… It appears to have only recently been installed and my ring does not recognise the technology of the device it has replaced."

"Forward your scans to Hinon and move to your secondary target. If she can make anything of them we can reconsider."

"Very well."

I want to know and images form in my mind of my Lanterns in action. Four fail to respond; they're either dead or their rings have been destroyed. Power rings provide a massive boost in destructive potential but their users are still essentially rookies. A small squad of on-the-ball Citadelian marines with heavy weapons would be able to shoot them dead through their environmental shields fairly quickly, and the Mountain can't make two hundred hush tubes simultaneously. As to the rest… Vicarious ring telemetry shows me Citadelian ships drifting in space, command crews slain and primary generators going into forced shut down as a result of orange energy pulses.

Good show.

"You. Alien."

I look around. Internal communications?

"Are you addressing me?"

"Yes. You who would attempt to spoil the moment of my greatest triumph."

I take one last look around and then stride out of the command section. I could call for a hush tube, but I'm not under attack and I'd rather leave those for Lanterns who are. "It seems to me that it's very far from that."

"The ships here are barely a quarter of our full strength. Recall orders have already gone out, and you will find the rest of my ships to be far harder targets."

"I was planning on exterminating you people anyway." I shrug. "Saves me having to go looking for them."

Ring, transmit alert.

By your command.

"And who exactly am I talking to?"

"I am a god. An exceedingly vengeful god, upon whose territory you have intruded for the last time."

Really. "I'm from Apokolips. Have you any idea how little that narrows it down?" The voice sounds… Citadelian? Maybe a bit raspy? An old Citadelian? Could be, I suppose.

"Too bad. That's all that you're getting. And when you are dead I will wear your skin as a suit."

I squint theatrically. "Are you hitting on me?"

"Yes, that is precisely what I am doing. Now hold still."

Hold st-?

I dive across the room as the floor where I was standing erupts in a blast of golden light!

 

[Mr Zoat]

15th August
02:26 GMT -6

I roll awkwardly, coming to my feet in a crouch. Sinestro, any idea what that-?

Woophf!

I'm slammed against the ceiling as the floor beneath me explodes upwards, eddies of force running over my entire body and trying to squeeze. The ceiling deforms around me for a moment before the golden light appears to get a better grip on my body, then the deformation stops while the pressure on me intensifies. This actually -agh- hurts somewhat. I've dropped my daiklave-.

In answer to your half-asked question, Corpsman, it bears a more than passing resemblance to certain forms of high level telekinetic assault. Furthermore, my analysis of the patterns of force suggests that-.

Yes, I spotted that.

A ripping force bites into the armour protecting my right calf. It doesn't get very far before diminishing -nice to know that's still working- but I'm sure it will be back. I fortify my environmental shield, the tron lines of my armour glowing bright yellow in response. The pressure is slightly reduced. Okay, how to escape. High powered constant telekinetic attacks aren't something I've spent much time studying as telekines usually use intense one-directional forces or short disintegration bursts. Ah, let's try the gravity thing those VRUs were doing to block my tubes.

If you like, Corpsman. An area about two metres around my body begins to flicker with weak yellow light. Though I am unclear as to why you think- The telekinetic effect stutters. -that would.. work.
I am a god!
I use my ring's flight aura to pull me out of the weakened blast area, landing lightly on the floor and then shutting off the gravity disruptor.

Sinestro, message to the princesses. I'm under attack by a powerful telekine and would appreciate aid. Drones, seek and destroy my attacker.

Message sent, Corpsman. I'm still waiting-.

The telekinetic beam cuts out entirely and I transition to the far side of the feasting chamber before the next one blasts up through the floor in the spot I had been standing. Looks like destroying the central computer didn't completely destroy internal monitoring. Sinestro, get on that, would you?

Narrow yellow beams lash out, boring holes in apparently random points in the walls, ceiling and floors.

Dealt with, Corpsman. Though if the individual in question has telepathic abilities to complement his telekinetic ones they should still be able to launch attacks at your approximate location.

I tap the side of my goggles, checking on the location of my drones. The two that dropped down through the first hole haven't found anything of note as yet -though I can cross a dozen or so Citadelians off the hit list- and the ones moving through the corridors are getting slowed down by soldiers heading towards me.

In answer to your question, the person firing at me clearly didn't know how to improve their attack once they caught me. This implies an amateur, with abilities which are either newly activated or newly engineered. An amateur who was clearly getting feedback but wasn't sure what to do with it.

You used the gravity effect to disrupt their feedback. That's almost clever, Corpsman.

I have my moments.

Now, what's going on outside? New ships have come in, dropping out of FTL almost on top of their compatriots. FTL sensors? No, they'd have to stop to scan. They must have been getting a transmission from Citadel Complex and it's risky even so. Still, I admire the skill that sort of manoeuvring takes. And-.

Three of the new destroyers get into formation around an older cruiser, aim their primary guns and fire-. What?

Lantern deceased.

They're firing on their-. Of course they are, they outnumber us by a factor of ten thousand at least, it makes perfect sense. But to manage a shot like that, they'd-. They're using the other ships' internal sensors to know where to shoot. Automated telemetry sharing? Perhaps, but otherwise that cruiser just gave the Lantern's location knowing that they'd be shot to bits as a result. That's still a net win for the Citadel, but… Whaw.

I raise my left hand to my face as I jog over to where my daiklave fell, bending slightly to grab the grip with my right hand.

Corps wide.

By your command.

"My Corps, the Citadel's reserves have arrived and they are willing to shoot other Citadel ships if they get you as well." There's a.. faint vibrating noise from somewhere. "Remember: you can't kill them if you die first. Use construct armour to protect yourselves. Use your ring's sensors to detect enemy ships moving into position and use short FTL hops to avoid the places they're targeting. If the ship you're on is about to be overwhelmed, use a hush tube. Grayven out."

The noise cuts out for a moment, and then comes back with a vengeance. I can see the loose parts of deck around where the telekinetic blasts came from waving aroundtransition!

I reappear in the corridor a fraction of a second later, scanning my surroundings and shooting out the internal monitor devices even as I start running. I make it to the first T-junction as a cacophonous tearing and smashing noise erupts from the feasting room. Quick scan… Yeah, totally destroyed. The telekine gripped everything and smashed it together in the centre of the room. I'm not.. sure what that would have done to me, but I doubt that it would have felt pleasant. Still, clearly the work of someone not at one with their abilities. Or perhaps they need to charge them up?

There's a flare of light a short distance in front of me and I don't even hesitate to bring my daiklave up. The first Citadelian teleporting in hasn't even fully materialised before my blade slices through his upper torso, my shoulder striking the chest of a second while my scything blade hits anoth-.

Gah!

Gravity disruptor! Cease your vexations!

The yellow corona forms once more and again the telekinetic fields weaken. Movemovemove!

Behind me the corridor crunches down in sections, the sounds of breaking and smashing reverberating through the metal in the surrounding sections. Or possibly those sections relying on this one for their own stability are being broken in turn. Air pressure's staying the same so I don't think that Citadel Complex is seriously holed… Yet. Teleporters. Komand'r wouldn't lie about something like that, and she wouldn't stop smashing or killing until she was certain. With primary teleportation down, the Citadelians should be limited to inter-base station transportation… Unless teleporting in from a ship. So the Citadel Complex isn't jamming any longer… And I can't take advantage of that because I'm not using teleporters.

Someone's being either unusually clever or unusually lucky.

"Koriand'r to Grayven."

A little way ahead of me my drones are just finishing blasting through a bulkhead into… Yes, that's the entertainment district, isn't it?

"Go ahead." Cold gun.

The Citadelian soldiers gathered on the far side of the bulkhead instinctively step back, bracing for my assault. The ones nearest me are in full power armour, protected by armour and force fields and carrying a variety of weapons. The cold gun taking the fusion cannon's position on my left arm tracks from left to right, pale blue light playing over the whole gang of them with the cooling effect turned up to the maximum. Death is instantaneous, power armour insulation not designed to cope with supercooling. The few shots that come back my way are easily absorbed by my armour.

"Hinon believes that the location I uncovered was a containment vessel for an immensely powerful telekine. A Human named Adam Blake took part in Tamaran's attack here during the last war. He was-."

"I know who Adam Blake is." I charge forward, daiklave smashing the Citadelians' front ranks into bloody ice cubes. "Do you have any idea what I've done to piss him off?"

"After so long in captivity, he may not be in his right mind."

Or he could have been reprogrammed. "Understood. Thank you." The rear ranks of Citadelians were somewhat protected from my shots, firing through their dead comrades. The shots hurt slightly, but they're pinpricks. Unless their fleet fires on the Citadel or Blake starts shooting me again, I might well be in the clear.

Then the entertainment district's lights fade as a golden explosion erupts from the centre.

 

[Mr Zoat]

15th August
02:31 GMT -6

Buildings crack, crumble and crumple as the gold light is swiftly consumed by an eye-ache inducing sphere of total blackness. Buildings near the thing are totally consumed, breaking up and being sucked into the void with violent ferocity. Naturally, I have the presence of mind to reinforce my environmental shield as local gravity goes haywire. One g down and about..?

Fifteen, Corpsman. From here at least.

Fifteen towards a telekine who apparently just discovered his ability to teleport with black fucking holes. Detritus -some of it living- flies upwards towards the deranged Captain Comet. No reason for them to wear flight packs inside the Citadel Complex, I suppose. On the other hand, a mere fifteen or so times my own body weight is nothing for my environmental shield and flight aura. In fact, thanks to the rings it isn't even giving me inner ear trouble.

Impressive lack of screaming from the Citadelians. I mean, the ones in full armour I could understand just shutting down external speakers but quite a lot are lightly armoured due to being off duty. I raise my cold gun and train it on the centre of the anomaly…

Sinestro, is it mucking about with space time in a way liable to give me a headache later?

With fifteen gravities? Hardly. A few seconds at most.

Glad to hear it. Any advice? Drones, disperse and fire the moment you have a target.

Shoot true, shoot often, Corpsman.

Ah, fuck it. I swap my cold gun for a singularity beam projector. It's not like I was trying to keep Citadel Complex in one piece anyway. Now, I'm not sure exactly how aware Blake is of his environment when he's doing that -or how much he cares- but I think it would probably be a good idea if I kept moving. There isn't really anything like 'open air' -we are inside a space station after all- but there are open areas between the building clusters. I take off and fly… Normal directions don't really work here… I fly to my right, anticlockwise with Blake as the centre of the clock face.

"Help me! Help me!"

The shouts draw my attention to a building above me, where a Rashashoonian man is desperately trying to maintain his grip on the edge of a building while Blake's singularity does its level best to pull him free. He's seen me and he's doing his best to shout in my direction without risking changing his grip. There isn't anything else for him to hold on to, and certainly nothing between him and Blake if his grip slips.

I can almost hear Mother Box pinging at me without her even needing to be here. Which I suppose was her aim.

Ugh, fine. Sinestro, let me know if Blake starts doing anything else.

As you wish, Corpsman. I turn away from Blake, flying upwards towards the hanging man. Though I would point out that an active battle zone is a poor place for inattention.

I'm not saying that you're wrong. I'm just saying that while it's better to be feared than loved-

I reach the man and grab him around his torso, including him in my environmental shield's flight aura before heading towards what looks like a more intact building.

-you have to avoid being hated. I want the people of Vega to be at least a little afraid of me, but I also want them to regard me as the person they want in charge. And occasionally that's going to mean saving a poor unfortunate-

I check the far side of the door and then hack the lock and throw it open. A handful of… I don't recognise that species, cower on their new 'floor' as I deposit the Rashashoonian man inside and then close the door and return my attention to the Blake Hole.

-like that. Would you have gotten a fraction as far as you did without a history of good conduct?

I don't think you'll have to strain yourself to be better than the Citadel, Corpsman.

No, but-.

Corpsman, something's happen-.

The blackness parts, momentarily giving me a glimpse of a figure in dull, sandy-yellow armour. Then a beam of black-.

Gaaaaghr!

Transition!

I appear downwards and right of my former position, right hand feeling gingerly for the bloody hole in the left side of my torso. Around me I see beams of purple and orange light as the drones open fire, though from where I am now I can't see… That wasn't Blake. It looked like a slightly old Citadelian. One of their veterans, perhaps? Ugh, the wound hurts but at least it wasn't radion this time. I should recover before too long.
Heal.
And I need to keep-

A black lance strikes a drone somewhere to my left.

-out of sight. Sinestro, why are the drones being ineffectual?

An image forms in my mind. Blaster bolts fly towards the Citadelian, only to be blocked by telekinetically propelled debris. They fire faster and he throws swirling scrap heaps of the stuff around to shield himself.

Alright, fair enough, but purple death rays should pass right through it.

Another image, purple rays lashing out, only to deflect away before they hit him. How..? Gravitational distortion, I can see how the background blurs out of alignment near him. Recalculate firing positions and keep moving.

Alright, time for shoot and scoot. I don't bother moving out of my cover as I aim my left forearm mounted singularity projector directly at him. If this gets blocked by something then the resulting x-ray burst should do something unpleasant to exposed flesh. Plot transition route to… Over there. Fire and move.

I reappear, tensing up as I wait to see-. My former piece of cover is vaporised, the surrounding area being melted by the released radiation. That hole… It's not a beam, it just stops where he-. Oh, that is bullshit.

"I know you're here, alien! How do you like the power of a god?!"

I like it fine, I'm just not so keen on you having it too.

Alright Sinestro, why didn't that work?

It appears that his control of local gravity effects is sufficiently precise to prevent gravity-based attacks instinctively, Corpsman. A most difficult opponent.

"Raaaagh!"

Though not one without his own limitations.

I'm about to query him out loud, but the image appears without me asking. One purple death ray gets deflected but another fires at the same point at the same time but at an extreme angle. It looks like it should miss, but the distortion causes it to bend towards the Citadelian instead. He's clearly tough, I'll give him that, but that did hurt him.

Three loud bangs and I risk peeking out to see the wreckage of the drones that made those shots. Okay, light speed shots, and I have to let the drones know what I'm doing so they can line up their shots at the same time. Manageable. Alright. I replace my singularity projector with a cold gun, because you never know when you're going to get lucky-.

Wait, a Citadelian calling himself a god? Is that the First up there? A bit academic, but… Where's he been hiding?

Never mind. I scan. He's facing away, perhaps trying to work out where the other drones are. The debris field is awkward, but if I wait for an opening…

There.

Fire.

 

[Mr Zoat]

15th August
02:34 GMT -6

And don't stick around to check.

I appear inside a torn open public house, swiftly ducking down out of sight. Various sorts of alcoholic drink have escaped from smashed glasses and pooled on the new floor. Fortunately, both patrons and slaves are entirely absent. I wait, listening for a shout of pain or any other sign that I just achieved anything. Nothing. But wouldn't it just be perfect if killing him didn't undo whatever he's done to futz about with gravity.

Sinestro?

Negative impact, Corpsman. Your shot was deflected into one of his debris barriers and it appears that the two purple death rays only managed to hit his armour.

Show me.

In my mind's eye I see the shots… Both hit his torso. Odd. I may be misjudging his size, but… I generate a construct representation of him, showing a normal Citadelian in armour like what he's wearing. Now, the beams hit here and here, and he didn't appear to react… The man must be shrivelled up like a raisin. Alter targeting protocols to incorporate new data.

Unfortunate news, Corpsman. He just used wide area effect attacks to destroy your death ray drones.

Not the blaster-equipped ones?

I think he's rather written those off as non-threats.

Okay, and with the whole station to choose from he's effectively got infinite debris for protection. How is he powering this for so long? A normal telekinetic would have had an aneurysm by now. No, no, not relevant. New plan. I generate a wide barrel coilgun construct and take a plasma converter out of subspace. Ugh. No, the effort involved in modifying it will make it far too slow. I doubt that the First Citadelian will hang around indefinitely. I dismiss the construct and take the converter in my right hand. Transition-throw-activate, then have the blaster drones fire through the resulting gap in his defences? Sounds like a pl-.

The pub is torn apart, converted for a fraction of a second into debris and then plasma before being converted to hard radiation. I'm being pressed and twisted and torn in every direction, my blood seeping through my skin as my divine physiology tries to hold me in one piece as gravity tries to tear me apart. Hold! Hold! Hold me together!

I…

I…

Bgrh. I'm lying in a pile of wreckage, my mouth burning-. Pffagh! Metal, it's molten metal. Ugh, get up!

"Still alive, alien?"

I get my right hand under me, setting off a flare of pain where the telekinetic beam cut through my chest. Not.. fully healed then. I fall, my legs scrabbling at the broken metal beneath me in an attempt to get moving. Sinestro, what did I miss?

Sinestro?

Oh fucking fuck. My yellow ring is still on my finger, but there are tiny cracks all over the surface of the signet. Today has not been my day for keeping the voices in my head in one piece.

"I'm not sure I'd call that living. Though I do find it fitting that your last moments should be spent grovelling in the dirt."

I get my right hand under me and manage to push myself up, craning my neck to try and spot the First. The lights have come up a bit and.. I.. think gravity is nearly normal again. Otherwise I would have fallen towards him when I blacked out. Okay, lasers, need lasers. Send out filaments, point at him from different… Different directions…

The weak and pale filaments form and then fade.

Oh… Come on. Give… Agh. Give me lasers!

Thick bands of orange light shoot left, right and up as orange surges through the tron lines of my armour. Which is surprisingly intact considering what just happened. I make momentary eye contact with the First as the lasers fire, the first lashing out at his face to be turned aside by his distortion field. Then the second fires, the beam bent back towards his face and-.

And being bent away by the second layer of his defence.

Fuck, not viable. trans-.

"I think not, alien." Arrrgh! I'm enveloped in a gold-white aura and yanked into the air, my arms pulled out to my sides. "I thought that I recognised constructs. Did the Guardians see my forces and decide that the old pacts no longer mattered!? Do they fear me so much that they sent you to spoil the day of my greatest triumph!?"

Transitigahh! The gold glow around my right hand just… Ah. It's flopping. Did he just.. break every bone?

"Stay with me now, alien."

I shudder, shaking my head as he comes closer. We're about forty metres apart now. Ah. Okay, if I try and use the orange ring he'll see the glow and do something to break my concentration. Or just kill me. Daiklave's gone… Somewhere. Remaining drones can't pierce his debris fields. I've still got the Sword of the Fallen, but… No way I can actually stab him with it.

Why hasn't he killed me yet?

Ring, message to everyone. Help requested.

By your command.

"I imagine that you're wondering why I haven't killed you yet."

"'Oo wah'ed-" Ow, my mouth is not in a good state. "Can't… Wear my.. skin if you've torn it up."

"When I heard that an unknown alien had claimed the bounty on the Beast, I could not help but wonder: what sort of being could achieve such a thing? Who could kill such a legendary terror?" He comes a little closer, I'd say twenty metres at most. Throwing range, if I could move my arms and he didn't have a spatial distortion protecting him. "Do you know who I am?"

"I think… You are the First Citadelian, clone-father of all he surveys." There's something… I spit, a wad of bloody phlegm falling from my mouth. "I thought you were dead."

He smiles, then the golden light around my left ring fingergah! My finger and the ring it bore part company with my hand.

"I lived on, my body sustained by the mechanisms of Citadel Complex and my mind enhanced by its computers, linked to the implants of every Citadelian. But no longer! My youngest sons have no need for me to oversee their every thought! So I can fight myself. I've-" He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment "-so missed-."

The glow cuts out. Gravity takes us both immediately, and I just about manage to bring my arms up to shield my face before slamming into one of the more intact precinct walls. I bounce off a little, fall further and agh, and catch my left hand at an awkward angle and start tumbling down the sloping side. As I go head over heels I catch a glimpse of the First. I think he's trying to activate his armour's flight systems but there was so much debris over his head that he can't get it to fire up before getting hit again and wouldn't have anywhere to fly to if it did. Couldn't happen to a nicer dwoughah!

Some sort of.. decorative spine has arrested my progress, catching me across the stomach. Agh. I grab hold of it with both hands, ignoring the pain. I've got no idea why that happened, and I need-. There he is. The First crashes arse-first into the ground level, getting his arms up just fast enough to keep the rubble out of his face.

Ow.

I pull-. I pull harder, the glutinous metal that was sealing the Sword to my chest mostly coming free. A few deep breaths and I push myself off the spine, twisting as I slide and managing to get my feet pointing forwards as I fall over the lip of the roof. I land on my feet, stumble and fall onto my face. Up. I rise, getting a firm grip on the Sword with my left hand just as the debris pile starts to shift.

I've got a second legend to kill today.

 

[Mr Zoat]

15th August
I've rather lost track

"Yaaeyh."

There's a small rubbleslide as the First manages to get his left forearm free, his head still largely obscured by fallen material. I've got no idea how heavy that material is or how much power assistance his-.

I stumble, my right foot sliding unexpectedly back and causing me to fall to my knees. I throw my left hand forward to arrest my fall and have a moment of panic as the blade of the Sword of the Fallen comes close to nicking my right hand. I don't know exactly what that would do to me -having only used it to inflict lethal wounds- but I'm not eager to find out. If the First is only as strong and as tough as a normal Citadelian then even now I should just be able to beat him to death… But most Citadelians don't have epic level telekinesis.

Through the cracks in my armour my blood is seeping out almost constantly. On Earth, small wounds -even lots of them- would have healed by now, but there just isn't enough magic on the Citadel for the mana infuser to work with. I'm not dead so I'm clearly getting some kind of bonus for being a god, but it's far below what I'm used to. And all of the purple ray drones were destroyed. Ugh. No, it should be fine: the princesses have a couple each. I'll kill the First, find the ring and…

I don't even know how the battle outside is going.

I rock back gingerly onto my haunches, hold my ruined right hand parallel to the ground in case I fall again and get a firm grip on the Sword with my left hand. And up. Slightly.. unsteady. Think I've answered the question of whether or not gods can get concussion.

"Raaaaagh!"

I focus my eyes on the First again as the rubble pile shifts in response to his efforts to free himself. A moment later he spots me, his face screwing up as he glowers-.

Blouegh! Owowow! And down again! A red.. beam of some kind blasted out of the rubble and hit me in the chest! Feels… Another couple of deep breaths and I carefully put the Sword down on the ground and try touching near the point of impact with my right hand. Feels… Sticky. Burns, then? It doesn't hurt all that much more than it did a moment ago but I've got so much pain coming from everywhere that I'm not sure that I'd notice. Okay, elbows firmly situated..? Yes. And sit up. And wait for the dizziness to pass.

"Still alive, alien!?"

"If you.. call this.. living."

Left fist on the ground for stability, carefully minding the Sword. The First is still more or less buried, though his left arm now has a great enough range of motion to try lifting pieces of debris off his right side. Perhaps the power assistance on that side has been damaged more?

"Oh, don't worry. You won't have to wait for long."

"Maybe if you hadn't-" I draw my legs in and lean forwards, semi-falling into a crawling position. "-killed so many of your own people with that black hole thing-" Right foot down again, left foot… Wait for the dizziness and up. "-there would be people around to help you."

"Maybe if you had followers, you wouldn't be on your own. Agh!" He tries flinging a sheet of metal at me but doesn't have the strength or the range of motion. It clangs to the ground about three metres away, bounces once and then lies still.

And I'm upright and from the mess I'm leaving on the floor I really hope that was a holdout shot and not a proper onboard weapon system. The pain is receding from my extremities and I'm starting to feel… Cold. And that's not good. Alright. One foot carefully in front of the other. Keep your weight centred. Good. Good.

"Meah!" There's some sort of red pulse from the First, and the pile of rubble surrounding him expands for a moment and then falls in on itself. "RAgh!" With an almighty shove he pushes aside the material on the near side and manages a few clumsy steps into a nearby wall. His face looks whole and undamaged, though I don't think that his eyes are focusing quite right. On the other hand I'm bleeding heavily.

"If you… Surrender, I'll ensure that you get a fair trial."

"Surrender to me…" I can't tell whether he's breathing heavily or not, but his armour appears to have momentarily locked up. "And once I've finished pissing on your corpse I won't shit on it as well."

There's a jerk from him, and with a flicker of the three red lights at his waist he regains motive control and pulls away from the wall. He's breathing through his mouth, though with his armour forming a rigid frame I've got no idea if he's feeling as tired as I am or not.

"I fear that I must decline your generous offer." I raise my right arm into a guard position -I can't use the hand but the forearm armour is fine- and keep my left slightly lower. With a little luck he'll just assume that the Sword is a regular blade.

"Die!" The central red circle on his armour flickers brilliantly, then dies with a small puff of smoke. "Vapour-brained eunuch-faced Psions!"

"They gave you black hole teleportation." I take a step forwards, feeling slightly more confident-. And I wait for the world to stop spinning. "They didn't do too badly."

There's a clank from his armour, and he checks the range of motion in his arms and upper body. The lower torso appears to have locked but the rest appears to be in full working order. Okay. I lean forward slightly, because my mind is working rather better than my body at the moment and I really think that receiving a charge will be easier than making one myself. He takes a couple of breaths, his eyes fixed on mine.

Then he triggers his oh shit his flight system and flies at me!

He slams into me at speed, knocking me off my feet and slamming us both to the ground! "Raagh!" His face is centimetres from mine and I try to headbutt him but his flight system is still on and the power of it has him knocking me aside to his left and flying a couple of steps past me. I stagger back, slamming painfully into a wall and slumping against it for support. Ow. He staggers and shuts the system down, then reaches down to his right leg and lifts it around so that he faces me again. I raise my left arm as he surges forward once more, trying to cut him with the Sword. He blocks my arm and I lose my grip on the Sword, then ugh, he slams into me again, raising his left arm to try and reach for my face!

I raise my right arm, but without the ability to grip I can't do much more than shove my forearm at his face. Deprived of the ability to see me he grasps blindly, presumably trying to reach my eyes. Closer… Closer… I crane my neck forwards as far as I can and bite, crunching down on the middle finger of his three-fingered hand! I exert myself, the metal deforming and breaking between my teeth.

"Uuuuuuuuugh!"

I whip my head to the right, bone cracking as the last phalange snaps off in my mouth.

"Agh!" He pulls his right arm back for a moment, then his damaged hand comes across and grabs my-

"AAAAAGH!"

-broken hand! He grins, then pulls back his right fist-.

Overestimated how distracted I was by the pain. My left hand darts forward, striking him in the side of the head. Not my best punch, but then neither of us are in the best condition. His head recoils, and as it moves back to a central position his eyes briefly glaze. I take a moment to aim, then I punch him again, causing his head to jerk back and his grip on my right hand to weaken. I tug -aagh- it free, then reach for his head. Grabbing the top of it I pull him right, pulling him off balance and ramming him face-first into the wall besides me.

And then I lose my grip on his head.

"Uuuugh…"

His eyes roll back, and he slumps as far against the wall as his armour will allow him.

Great. I'm technically mobile, but I'm about ready to collapse myself. No communications equipment… I could try calling the ring but I've never been much good at that. I suppose there's the analogue option.

"Hello! Anyone around?!"

Bit of a risk, but if there were squads of regular Citadelians around then they would have already intervened. Hopefull-.

"Grayven!?" I look up and see the orange glowing form of Koriand'r flying through the skies of the former entertainment district.

"Down here!"

She stops in the air and orientates on my position before flying straight at me, green plasma balling around her hands. "Shall I kill that one for you?"

Should she?

"No. Make him safe, but leave him alive. And find the orange ring I was using." I weakly push myself away from the wall. "And what have you been up to?"

"I found Adam Blake. He was attached to a Psion machine. Controller Hinon was able to explain how to disconnect him."

Ooh marvellous. "Let me guess: it was designed to report control his abilities."

"It.. may have been."

"We'll need to send Blake himself to a specialist hospital. But first: the ring."

 

[Mr Zoat]

15th August
14:32 GMT

I stand well back from the edge of the balcony, construct cast pinning the parts of my right hand while a purple healing ray drone does its best to speed my recovery.

"You appear to be down a ring, Mister Grayven."

I look around as Hinon approaches. "Do you know anything about the repair of yellow power rings?"

"Certainly. But you would still be much better off taking it back to the original vendor. While I could certainly repair it there might be side effects as a result of me not knowing its original settings. It would be functional, but perhaps not quite in the way you have become accustomed to."

I nod. Though the basic functions would still be useful… I'm not prepared to dispense with Sinestro permanently just yet. "Alright. But Qward can wait."

She takes a few steps closer, craning her neck slightly to look out onto the plaza outside. A handful of Orange Lanterns floating in the area in front of the palace have attracted plenty of attention, but the real attraction won't be here for a minute or two. "A fairly good crowd. Is there a reason why you're not parading in triumph around the city? You did achieve your objective."

I raise my left hand slightly. "I also got myself rather badly injured. I think that I'll have an easier time going forward if Tamaraneans generally see me as unbeatable."

She nods, her eyes passing over me briefly before returning to the crowd. "What did the Citadel have that could wound you so? An anti-capital ship weapon would have inflicted damage in a wider distribution."

"One man stealing the epic-strength telekinesis of another, and augmenting it with technology. That was not a fun fight."

She nods. "Dead?"

"Captured alive, his armour stripped-" Which is stored safely for later examination. "-and his power source sent to hospital." STAR Labs Metropolis actually, doctors specialising in telepathic Humans being nonexistent.

"Generous of you."

I hear the faintest hum in the air, and look up. A little speck… Yes, here they come. While we destroyed most of the Citadel's ships, I decided that taking the Emperor's personal landing craft from the drifting wreck of the Citadel's flagship was worthwhile. Nothing quite says 'we took what we wanted from a defeated foe' like acquiring the boss's ride.

"No. Not really."

The people on the plaza have spotted the dropship. I don't think that they recognise it for precisely what it is but in the recent past spacecraft coming towards Tamaran has meant a slave raid. A wave of unrest moves through the crowd, abated only slightly by the presence of my Lanterns. And that sort of thing is exactly what this is all about.

"A ship? How quaint. Did you want some memento of your conquest, or have you already started hoarding as your predecessor did?"

"Neither. This is about sending a message."

The dropship comes down next to the palace entrance, the crowd having been politely shepherded away from that area by the Lanterns. From this angle I can't see exactly what's happening, but I hear the noise of the dropship's main hatch opening.

And I see the battered form of the First as he flies from it and lands on the stone-covered ground face first.

"People of Tamaran! We are victorious!"

Komand'r makes a point of floating out after him, her ring in a pocket on her hip. And given what she's wearing there's precious little room for pockets. Combine her imperious attitude with the crackling plasma corona which surrounds her… I imagine she looks like the second coming of X'Hal. Which is rather the point.

Koriand'r comes out next as the First unsteadily tries to push himself up. Same idea; ring hidden and her Psion-given powers turned up all of the way. "What little is left of the Citadel Complex floats dead in space! Its fleets are utterly destroyed, never to threaten anyone ever again!"

"No!" The First manages to scrabble forwards a little way, before raising his head and spotting the mood of the crowd surrounding him. "No!"

Komand'r floats down and around, stopping just off the ground a little way in front of him. His battered body and burned and dirtied tunic provide an excellent contrast to her flawless figure. No, call it what it is: her divine figure.

Huh. Stage 3. Nice.

"This wretch is the First Citadelian. Son of X'Hal, Bane of Okaara and sire of all his accursed kind. Whenever the Citadel acted it was by his will. Blame for every act of cruelty and barbarity they have committed may rightfully be laid at his feet."

Koriand'r drifts forwards as well, Sword-.

"What is that sword?!"

"The Sword of the Fallen was created by a Demon with the remains of two immensely powerful Demons in order to strike down another immensely powerful demonic thingy called the First of the Fallen. It's my go-to weapon to use against entities who might prove immune to mundane attacks."

"Does it work?"

"So far it's been used to kill two Lords of Chaos, and since neither has returned to remonstrate with me I'd say yes."

"So, you gave the First a stay of execution rather than a reprieve?"

I smile. "We wanted Tamaran to see him die. On his knees. Weak."

"And helpless?"

"Best time for it." She raises her eyebrows. "If he'd surrendered then I'd have considered leaving him alive. But the societal benefits here are-"

There's a cheer from the crowd as Koriand'r slices through the First's neck and Komand'r holds his still-bleeding head aloft.

"-rather overwhelming."

"They get to see the most powerful being in the region killed by two of the potential heirs to their throne. Two heirs who pointedly aren't wearing their alien power rings and whose alien ally is keeping himself out of the picture. And who happen to be the spitting image of a local goddess."

"Just so."

She squints at me. "What is it that you're god of again?"

"Conquest." I shrug. "I could probably have strong armed my way into becoming ruler of Tamaran, but this way-."

"This way you get exactly what you want without seeming to force them into it. That's almost subtle."

And how often does a public decapitation get called that? "Their strength will be mine and mine, theirs. There's no need for conflict or ego clashes when we all want the same thing."

"Which is?"

"Firstly, safety. Secondly, to excel. To grow into the most perfect form of ourselves that we can. I see great potential here."

"And statuesque, naturist locals."

I raise my eyebrows. "I hadn't realised that Maltusians still had those sorts of drives. Though I suppose that the Zamarons demonstrated the possibility. And after three billion years-."

"It's not my drives I was worried about. The orange light can have some rather seriously adverse effects on its users. Still, you.. appear to have yourself under control. I think that I will be able to tolerate working with you." She makes a vague flicking gesture at me with her right hand.

Propriety unlocked.

My ring flickers for a moment, then stills.

"What.. was.. that..?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

Respite

16th August
06:27 GMT

My eyelids open, pale blue filling my field of view. There's a heavy weight on my right side leaning against me and I think I've drooled slightly on the pillow. Where-? Ah, yes… Of course. I try moving my left arm around a bit, but it feels like Jade's already left. I'm a little surprised that I didn't wake up when she did. Waking up at six was something I've done for a while… Though I suppose that after enough time passes any habit can fall aside.

I reach up with my left arm, pulling the sheet and duvet away from my free side a little and gently trying to slide myself in that direction. My right arm is stuck under… I twist my head to the right in order to look at Kon's sleeping face. Alright, don't want to wake him up. He's had enough trouble adjusting to GMT without-.

"Uugh."

Mission failed. His left arm reflexively tightens around my right, pulling it to his chest as he half-consciously tries to squirm into a more comfortable position. His eyes half open… Quarter open really, a moment later.

"Kon, I'm going to need that arm back."

He's actually pulled it far enough under him that I can feel M'gann on the far side. Flipping biofeedback circadian rhythm controls. I try pulling again. If he doesn't let go I'm going to have to either wake him up fully or put a glowing orange zero friction coating over my arm, and I don't really want to do either.

"Kon, you've got my arm there."

"Ugh?" He blinks blearily at me. I may have a built-in full wakeup in the form of my ring-derived control of my physiology, but the rest of my family have to make do with more mundane processes. "Uh?" His eyes clear a little and his grip weakens. "Oh, yeah, sorry. What time is it?"

I pull my right arm out from underneath him, rolling slightly to face him as I do so. "Half six."

"Upf." He turns his head away to face his pillow. "You, ah… You need me for anything?"

"No, I'm-." Oh, he's probably still too tired to remember. "Mother's visiting today. You shouldn't-."

His eyes come fully open, his arms coming up to allow him to raise his torso from the bed. "You-" He glances at M'gann's sleeping form. "Sure you don't want one of us to come with you?"

I reach over to him and pat him on the back with my right hand, gently pushing him back down. "I think it will take her a while to adapt to how Earth Sixteen is. Probably best not to crowd her right at the start."

"Okay." His eyelids dip again, and I lean forwards and kiss him on the lips before pulling away completely and getting off the bed.

Mother's visit today is going to be… Interesting. I walk towards the bedroom entrance, passing through the privacy screen and into the hallway. Somewhat essential when the earliest riser in the house doesn't have augmented vision, the screen blocks both sound and light which is why I'm not surprised that synthetic sunlight is streaming through the hall skylight.

Ring, clothes.

Compliance.

A set of clothing that is half suit and half Star Trek civilian wear appears around me. I frown for a moment but… Yeah, I guess that's appropriate. I walk-. I pause after a step and pull at the material until it settles in a slightly more comfortable way. Maybe make it a little looser? Okay. I walk through the dining room and into the kitchen. Now, what do I-?

There's a note on the work surface, and I pick it up as I head towards the fridge. I flick it open as I reach for the fridge door handle.

'Back 0630. Jade. XXX. P.S. Coffee and eggs.'

Ah, not this morning. But coffee and eggs I can do. I pull the fridge door open and lift out the egg holder at the same time as using the ring to pick up the kettle and float it over to the left kitchen sink. While the ring flips the kettle lid open and turns the tap on I put the eggs down on the work surface and take the orange juice carton and butter out of the fridge before closing the door. Next, I open the cupboard and take out the cafetière and the jar of beans. I use my ring to turn off the tap and float the now adequately filled kettle back over to its base station and turn it on. Frying pan and Pyrex bowl are down here, and I add them to the growing pile of utensils.

Heh. Power rings never stop being awesome.

Power ring generated blades neatly slice open the shells of four eggs and I add them to the bowl. Another set cut an ounce of butter from the block and drop it into the frying pan, which I place on the hob manually before turning it on. Using the ring for everything would just take all of the fun out of it. I add a sprinkle of salt and a few grinder-rotations of black pepper to the bowl and then use a construct whisk to thoroughly blend it.

How much bread is there left? Ah, good. Jade generally prefers her scrambled eggs on their own but I prefer the difference in texture that comes from eating them with toast. I lift the lid off the bread bin and use the ring to cut two medium thickness slices from the loaf. I then float them over to the grill before putting the lid back down. The butter has melted, so I pour the whisked eggs into the frying pan and pull a wooden spoon out of a drawer to keep beating them. The kettle makes a quiet clicking noise as the water reaches boiling point and I use that as my cue to create a grinder construct and tip coffee beans into it. Blades whir and butter crackles as the smell of breakfast fills the kitchen.

I hear our house's front door open as the eggs start to solidify and I'm tipping ground beans into the cafetière as Jade walks in wearing her exercise clothing. Oh, I love seeing her abdominal muscles covered in sweat, her slightly laboured breathing causing them to tense and relax slightly.

"Is my coffee ready yet?"

"Do you want me to brew it properly, or do you want to drink it like a savage?"

She wipes her forehead with her towel as she walks across the kitchen. "Which one's quicker?"

"Savage it is."

I pour the just off-boil water into the cafetière and use a construct spoon to give it a stir. "I'd suggest giving it a-" She drapes her towel across the back of a kitchen chair and approaches me with a smile. I turn the half toasted bread and have the ring take control of the egg mixing, turning away just in time for Jade to reach me.

"How was your run?"

"Quiet. I think I'm the only early-riser on this whole space station."

"People like to keep their own time zones. I only mandated GMT for the clocks because that's the space standard."

"I'm not complaining." She approaches to within touching distance, studying my face. "Looking forward to seeing your Mother today?"

"Um. Yes… No, that sounds wrong." I use the ring to put the lid on the cafetière and take a mug off the rack for her. "It's just, it's been so many years that I'd adapted to the idea of never seeing my fam-. You know, my parents, again. So the fact that I'm going to today just feels slightly strange rather than being exciting."

Another filament slices another ounce of butter from the pat and deposits it in the Pyrex bowl while I reach behind me and turn off the hob.

"I suppose that makes sense." She looks around the cooking area. "Mm. Coffee and eggs. Where's the third thing?"

Hm.

I smile as I bend down, her arms going around the back of my neck as we press against each other.

Life is good.

16th August 2018
06:33 GMT

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th August
11:34 GMT -5

Doctor Williams shakes his head at me. "I'm sorry Mister Grayven, but there really isn't much we can do for him."

I nod sadly, noting the uncomfortable look he's giving my injuries. Back on Earth my mana siphon went back to working at full power and my skin is just about water tight again. I had the ring clean off most of the dried blood. I still look like shit, mind, I just won't have people reaching for the zombie-repellent any longer.

"How bad? I mean, is it just the telepathy or is there wider brain damage?"

Inside STAR Labs' Metropolis site's medical laboratory the leading physician nods, and the purple ray drone fires at Mister Blake's head again. Blake's implants were a similar technology to what the Psions used on the Tamaranean version of Multiple Man, but far cruder in application. Maybe because they didn't know as much about Human brains as they did about Tamaranean ones, maybe because the First just intended to use him as a power source for the telekinetic enhancement systems in his armour rather than as a soldier in his own right.

"I…" He glances back at the observation window before returning his attention to me. "Mister Blake left Earth in nineteen sixty seven. I studied his old medical records -those that survived- years ago, but they just don't have the information we need. Based on… Our initial MRI scans, he should retain some telekinetic ability. But the rest of the damage is great enough that I don't know if he'll even remember that he has telekinesis."

"What can I do to improve his chances?"

Doctor Williams shrugs. "I don't really think there's anything else you can do. There just isn't enough information on traumatic brain injuries in telepaths. Between your healing ray and STAR Labs… Unless you know some kind of mad scientist bioengineer-."

"Zhet sounds like my cue." Cranius -dressed as Professor Otto von Schadel- steps out of the hush tube and walks past us to stare through the observation window. "Heff you been able to contact his next of kin? Mine own work, it is generally best if I heff signed consent, you understand?"

"I.. don't believe that we've been introduced, Doctor..?"

Cranius -or rather Otto- turns around, a grin on his face that no mere baseline Human other than Mister Napier could come close to matching. "Yes, I em one of zhose! Mister Grayven has been most helpful to me in making contacts amongst my fellow medical professionals! And with the American military, which pleases Janus more zhan it pleases me, but it is still gratifying." Otto steps over to Doctor Williams, beaming all the while. Of course, he doesn't breathe through his mouth… "I am Doctor von Schadel."

"Do you have a great deal of experience in working with telepaths?"

"Young man, I am a telepath. I heff studied myself and my telepathic brezhren extensively, and my knowledge of exotic Human -and Humanish- physiology is unequalled!"

"Then I'm sure that Mister Blake would be glad to have you here, Doctor." Doctor Williams doesn't sound entirely certain, but he's prepared to give us the benefit of the doubt. "If you'll.. come this way, I'll introduce you to Doctor Fransson. She's leading the team…"

Cranius glances back at me once as Doctor Williams leads him into the preparation room. General Lane has expressed cautious interest in Uncorporation's latest product: the oolitic kidney. If the trials prove successful, Cranius gets his wider acceptance, Janus Senior gets a defence contract and the American Military never has to worry about Gulf War Syndrome or Kane Madness ever again. Heck, once the soldiers get Unmanned up they can even use Argonate with zero risk of hideous mutations.

Probably.

Alright, my work here is done. Mister Blake is getting the best care available. Time to get back. I raise my left hand -my right is in a medical gauntlet of Miss Shimmer's design- and look at the surviving power ring. I really didn't want to go to Qward just yet. But what else am I going to do? Where else am I going to get the same snide, needling observations about my failures that Sinestro gives me? Hunt down Sinestro 16? I don't think so.

Ring, hush tube to Emana.

By your command.

…

It's just not the same.

I rise lightly off the ground and float through the tube into near-Emana space, the universe around me glowing orange from the light cast by a hundred and seventy three Lanterns.

16th August
16:37 GMT

Twenty eight deaths in exchange for the death of every Citadelian the First sent against us and virtually their entire fleet. There are lightly defended outposts still to crush, but they can wait a day or two. A pretty good rate of exchange, really.

Koriand'r and Komand'r transition to my side a moment later, both looking at me expectantly. I make eye contact with each, then turn my attention to the planet below us. I raise my eyebrows. "They said anything?"

Komand'r's jaw tenses. "Nothing of consequence."

Emana is well defended as planets go, but ultimately it is an inhabited world and not a fortress space station. The Branx have fleets, but they're mostly owned by privateer guilds. They have weapon stations and anti-bombardment shield generators, enough that even the Citadel wouldn't have been too keen on picking a fight with them. But nothing that would stop Lanterns and nothing that would slow down Lanterns with hush tube access.

Of course, the other way they avoided a fight with the Citadel was by backing them, building their ships and equipment and trading with them. Which is rather why I'm here.

"Shipping activity?"

She looks around, generating targeting reticles all around us to mark their location. "They're avoiding us. I imagine that having an entire Lantern Corps appear in close proximity has encouraged them to be somewhat cautious."

"Think they know about the Citadel yet?"

"Oh yes. They've been talking about little else."

"How fares Adam Blake?"

I look at Koriand'r in concern as her environmental shield flickers out, but she doesn't seem troubled by her sudden vacuum exposure and it returns a moment later.

"He's alive, his brain isn't dead and he's being attended by the most skilled physicians I could find." She nods, apparently satisfied. "You can visit once he wakes up if you like. But for now…" I float past them and hold out my left hand. "Grayven of Apokolips to the government of Emana. I strongly advise answering promptly."

A moment or two passes, then a Branx face appears. I recognise the woman. I think her title is.. 'high coordinator' or something like that. She's more of a Speaker than a President, but their government is structured in such a way that there isn't really anyone above her. "Grayven. What do you want from us?"

"Oh, don't just jump right to the end like that. There needs to be build up!" I smile. "You know that we've destroyed the Citadel and killed the First, yes?"

"I did not know about the First, but yes. We know that the Citadel is gone."

"And you'll note.. that the people with me are exclusively Tamaranean. And don't have anything good to say about the Citadel's allies. We're heading to Karna next, then probably on to the Wombworld. But you made the Citadel's ships. Now, I don't blame you for siding with the strong to protect your own people. In your position I might well have done the same thing. But there's a new ascendant power in Vega and they don't like you very much."

"We are willing to negotiate compensation."

I shake my head. "No. No negotiating. You accept, or your species dies today. Am I clear?"

She considers, her eyes briefly moving to look at someone out of shot before returning to me. "You are clear."

"I negotiated them down to this. You may have peace, and security. If you accept our terms not a single Branx need die. And once you have paid there will be no further retribution of any kind. However, they are otherwise extremely harsh. Firstly, the Branx will undergo one hundred and seven years of planetary isolation. Your people will make best speed for Emana, land, and they will not leave until that span of time has elapsed. Secondly, every piece of orbital infrastructure, every ship and every off-world holding is hereby confiscated."

She shivers. "That will bring about economic ruination. Our government has no power to order such a thing."

"I don't see how that's my problem. If anyone resists, we'll kill them and take it by force. I find either possibility equally appealing. Now, I'm going to give you an hour. At the end of that period I better be seeing some practical action on your part. Grayven out."

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th August
16:49 GMT

I smile politely as the door opens. "Regent Alonzo, a pleasure-."

The white haired and white skinned man in loose-fitting red clothing stares at me sitting in his office chair for about half a second. "Guaaaards!"

"There really isn't-."

He steps back into the hallway, allowing a squad of five royal guards to advance into the room, plasma guns at the ready. Four wear red armour with green knot-pattern decoration and the apparent squad leader wears dull pink with purple knot work. She remains standing in the centre while the other four spread out and crouch, weapons trained on me.

"Get out of the Regent's chair, kneel down and put your hands behind your head."

I make a shrugging gesture with both hands. "What's in it for me?"

"We don't shoot you quite as much."

"With those?" I roll my eyes, then attach filaments to each gun and drop them into subspace. "And I should point out-."

Each soldier stands, reaching for their belt and pulling out… Extendible staves. "Yes, because if I can do that to your guns then I can't possibly do the exact same thing to your sticks."

The leader crouches slightly. "Get the Regent to safety!"

"If I could get through Euphorix's energy shield, I can probably manage to walk to the end of the corridor. Or deposit a bomb here and leave without being detected." That seems to get through to the squad leader. At least a little. A well trained soldier isn't going to let a silly thing like good sense affect their response to a recognised crisis. "But fine." I laboriously rise to my feet, the tension the soldiers are feeling increasing as they get a look at my full size. "Let's get the Regent to safety." Hush tube, if you please.

By your command.

I step forward, appearing just in front of the two guards assigned to evacuate Regent Alonzo. The Regent's eyes widen in horror as he frantically arrests his forward movement while the guards bring up their guns.

"Regent Alonzo, do you have a-"

The guards open fire, moderately powerful plasma bolts being effortlessly absorbed by a combination of my armour and environmental shield.

"-moment to talk? I ask because-." The guard on the left gets the bright idea of shooting me in the face, the bolt burning a superficial streak across my left cheek. I dart forward and grip her gun's barrel with my right hand and crush it. "Could you not?"

The guard tugs at her gun, getting back the grip and hydrogen flask and not much else as the scrap remains in my fist. Hm, good safeties. In a lot of places a gun damaged like that would promptly leak or go critical. The Branx version does that, though it also hits quite a bit harder. Of course, the Euphorix version is a better size for Tamaraneans…

Regent Alonzo glances back toward his office as the staff-carrying guards emerge, then looks at me and takes a guess on his chances of escaping. Concluding that it's a pointless endeavour, he pulls himself up. "What do you want?"

"I wish to hire about ten.. thousand technical specialists of various types, mostly working in starship construction and maintenance. Also, several hundred senior non-commissioned officers or whatever you call them for use in a training program, and a smaller number of officers for a similar purpose. Is that something you can organise?"

"W-? You.. broke into my office for something you could have organised through the defence ministry?"

"No, I did that because I wanted to demonstrate that your shield could be bypassed. Also-."

He frowns furiously. "How!?"

"Something, something, hyper-inflated gravitons, six dimensional space… Look, I just use the thing, alright?"

"And where did you get it? Are there.. more?"

"Lots more, but as long as you don't go out of your way to antagonise New Genesis or Apokolips I don't think that you have to worry about an invasion." I shrug my shoulders. "Of course, anything that can be discovered by one civilisation…"

He exhales with frustration as the rest of his detail approach at a jog. "Superordinate Skokiaan, this is a breach situation, highest security. Make sure your squad is aware, then erase all records from internal monitoring. I will be meeting with…" He glances at me and raises his left eyebrow.

"Grayven."

"With Mister Grayven in my office. Authorised list only."

"Yes, Regent." She turns to her squad- "Squad, with me." -and then marches away, her soldiers following behind her in good order.

"I'd appreciate if it you didn't go wandering about." Regent Alonzo leads the way back towards his office and I happily follow him. "Our people believe that the shield is a flawless defence. The knowledge that someone could casually walk in here…"

And since virtually all of your authority stems from the fact that you designed it, that would undermine you a little more than everyone else. Still, I see no benefit in mass panic. At the moment. "That shouldn't be a problem in the short term."

"Mm." He enters his office and walks around to the far side of his desk, looking at the seat I reformatted for my own posterior. After spending a moment weighing up how daft he'd look sitting in it he opts to remain standing. "I assume from your request that you're building an army."

"A stellar navy. I really think that for an advanced civilisation it makes most sense to have the fleet as the core component."

"And who is the lucky civilisation?"

"Tamaran."

He frowns, blinking at the thought. "Have you bought the place from the Gordanian clan that owned it?"

"More 'killed them all', really."

"And come to terms with the Citadel Empire?"

"No, killed them too."

He starts. "You what?"

"Killed them, defeated the First Citadelian in single combat, dropped the still-crewed ships onto a planet and blew up Citadel Complex." I shrug. "I'm building a Lantern Corps, but I think that having a conventional fleet as well would be sensible. And I believe that you cashiered yours."

"We didn't cashier them. There simply wasn't any way to support a fleet in space with the shield in full operation. Some of the personnel became part of our planet-based defence force and the rest were honourably discharged. Though… If you're planning offensive operations… I don't imagine that employing them -even in the numbers you want- will present much difficulty."

"Glad to hear it. Though… With the Citadel gone, most of the reason for maintaining the shield in full time operation has gone as well."

"And how would I explain how I discovered that the Citadel had been destroyed?"

"You could try honesty."

"Once the thousands of people you want to employ report back, I will. But I see absolutely no need to rush matters."

"And I'm sure that the fact that once the Queen returns you'll lose your office doesn't factor in to your considerations."

"Hah!" He smiles smugly. "No, not really. Queen Kalista has barely spent a moment on Euphorix since completing her primary education. She'd be completely dependent on me… If she bothers coming back at all. Now, why don't we talk about what you can offer us in exchange for our technical assistance..?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th August
06:50 GMT

While I technically have the day off, I think that I should probably at least do a basic check on the station's facilities. It's mildly gratifying to my ego that even after so much direct exposure I still draw a crowd when I go out in public, but it does get a bit distracting when I'm trying to work. Fortunately, with the hour still being early -at least for most of the residents- my only encounter as I walk through the gardens is a quick mutual wave with one of Jade's fellow joggers. The gardens are something I'm particularly pleased with; people don't function well in purely artificial environments and plants grow perfectly well on space stations. And heck, we wanted to build a synthetic arcane structure anyway, might as well make best use out of it.

As a result, rather than cabins coming off a corridor Star Trek style, everyone living here has a habitation unit in the middle of well-tended grasslands. Patches of succulents with purple flowers provide colour, though not in a direct line between places people are likely to want to walk. A small effort on Euanthe's part keeps the grass growing strong in those places, but I'd rather not trouble her…

I hesitate, crouching down in front of a flowerbed. Actually, I… I don't remember what these are called. The flowers come in clusters of six, the petals arranged in a five-layered spiral pattern with long purple stamens extending out from the centre. There's what I assume to be the seedpod just behind each flower, and each cluster then connects to a thick, fleshy vine. They're quite pretty, but I'm really not-.

No, no, they're just one of Abra's synthetic plants. Silly thing to worry about.

I stand and turn away, heading towards the nearest portal gateway. Magic-based teleportation is so much mechanically simpler than anything technological, particularly given that we already had full control of the station's arcane framework. The transportation effect can just piggyback on the existing connections, unlike the networks on Earth which still have to bind individual gates together.

"Root Bed."

Though I wasn't foolish enough to not include some security, the arcane networks of the station monitor… Well, not monitor-monitor, but they're in constant touch with the souls of all residents. Again, using that as the basis of the security system just seemed like an obvious and logical step. As such, despite this being the most important place on the station there isn't any sort of fortification at the far end. Just a platform around the edge of the room in which the Root of Yggdrasil grows. Part magic and part biotechnology, it binds our little space station to the magics of Earth and allows an isolated space station floating in the void to function as a proper living world rather than a lump of unliving metal. Well, technically, if this place was inhabited for few thousand generations we would get a similar effect but I've never been keen on waiting like that.

It also means that anyone who dies here gets to go to their preferred afterlife. The prospect of permanent purgatory had been making people more than a little uncomfortable about this.

The Root itself is a tall green tower spotted with purple blisters, and it sprouts from the soil below and spreads its vines out across the ceiling. Each vine plugs into a runic tile which serves as the physical aspect of the ongoing connection. I give the whole setup a quick scan, but there doesn't seem to have been any unintentional change-.

"Paul." Abra shimmers into visibility to my right, following my gaze as I consider the Root. "I thought you were taking today off?"

"Just wanted to give the place the once over before I left."

He smiles, patting me on the left shoulder with his right hand. "Paul, I designed this system. It's working fine. And the moment anything goes wrong about thirty people who could actually do something about it will charge through the portals. If you're so eager to put off seeing your Mother, why don't you go and look over Ted's shoulder instead?"

I… Suppose that he's right. I nod, bowing my head slightly afterwards. "That was my next stop. I'll… Leave you to it." I frown. "Wait, how did you know I was here?"

His face freezes for a fraction of a second, then he smiles the relaxed smile I've become familiar with. "Only one man on this station doesn't trigger arrival wards when he uses the gates. I think all the department heads have a spell set to alert them when you appear."

"'Look busy, the boss is coming?'"

"I wouldn't put it quite like that. We've all got as much invested in this place as you have. But you brought us all together, and none of us want to disappoint you." He glances away for a moment and clears his throat. "Or send you on a cross-galaxy rampage, assimilating everything in your path."

"That would never happen, Abra."

"Excuse me if I choose not to take any risks. But! Since you're so concerned…" He walks towards the edge of the platform, glances back to make sure that I'm watching, then draws his wand from thin air. He holds it out like the baton of an orchestra conductor, then with a sweeping motion conjures up an illusion of the station's arcane networks. "The sun still shines, the plants still grow, the links between every part of the station and their anchor points in the Earth-sphere remain strong." The arcane energy flows related to each shimmer as he announces them. "Spare energy bleed through is well under maximum tolerances and network stability is… On track."

"On track?"

"I had hoped that it would go a little faster, but it seems that Sephtian was right. It scales in a linear fashion and not quadratically. At least we are not behind."

"No reported problems?"

"Euanthe tells me that it still doesn't feel quite right…" He shrugs. "Part of the Green's nature is the habit of unrestrained growth. At this point we need to keep it too controlled for it to feel natural to her. The sooner that wildlife areas can be completed the happier it will make her."

I nod. "I'll mention it to Ted. You need anything else yourself?"

"An oracle, if you can find one willing to work here. I'd like to update my arcane analytics programs before the next stage, and someone with an ability for parsing the future from ambiguous inputs would be an interesting case study."

"I'll ask, but I can't promise anything. You know how most Amazons feel about space."

"At least they're prepared to leave their island now."

I smile as I walk back towards the portal. "Yes, we are. Fabrication."

I step out of the portal on the far side and look out across the workshop floor. My ring keeps the noise down, but unlike the Root Bed the Fabrication section keeps going twenty four hours a day. At the moment we're using every bit of orichalcum we produce here ourselves, but once the station is complete we'll be in a perfect position to export it or use it for ship building. A lot of the machinery here was blessed by Hephaestus when it was first assembled, but sadly I wasn't able to persuade him to move here full time. His followers on Earth and his duties to them simply take up too much time for it to be practical for him.

"…through here is where daddy works." I look around as Ted follows me through the portal in his dressing gown, young Damon held firmly in both arms. "And where daddy's going to be late this morning because daddy needs some sleep if he's going to get any work done."

"Morning Ted."

"Hey Paul." He walks past me and tilts his son so that the boy can look out across the foundry. "See all the fancy machines? I always find them all working like that kinda hypnotic and I'm kinda hoping you do too because your mother isn't letting me back in the house until you're asleep."

Damon extends a small hand in the direction of a machine extruding an orichalcum girder. "Gah?"

"Is everyone having an early morning today?"

Ted sighs, then turns towards me. "I wasn't planning to, but Damon had other ideas."

"Lose the coin flip with Io?"

"Not after she caught me using a weighted coin that one time. I get mornings, she gets evenings."

I give Damon a smile. He responds by hugging his father closer and putting his right hand in his mouth. "They're supposed to settle down after a couple of months."

"Looking forward to it. Ever think about having one yourself?"

"Given my personal circumstances-"

He nods. "Right."

"-it could be a bit complicated."

Ted looks around the room and then back to me. "You wouldn't be putting off-?"

"No, clearly that's not an option." I turn away from the workshop and head back towards the portal. "See you tomorrow."

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th August
01:14 GMT -6

I step out of the portal and into the Sivanas' Venusian facility. Even after all of the good work they did during the Sheeda Invasion I haven't been able to get the 'bad' Sivanas a pardon. I have, however, managed to negotiate a truce. One which now I think about it puts me in mind of Doctor McNinja's 'if he calls safe then he gets a pardon' arrangement. As long as they don't interact with any officialdom and don't take the piss on their periodic visits to Earth they don't get bothered.

And with all of the Sheeda technology they've got to reverse engineer I doubt they find it unduly restrictive.

"Hey Orange."

Thaddeus Junior doesn't bother looking up from his work station. He also doesn't bother waving, both his hands deep in one of the Sheeda's undead cyborg horses. Instead, one of the robots behind him starts displaying a picture of his face on its view screen and waves on his behalf. The horse-thing turns its head towards me and whinnies in a pitiful electronic voice, then there's a snap from where Thaddeus is working and its vocal system ceases functioning.

"That's better. I wanted to work on the eye blasters, but the stupid thing just wouldn't shut up."

"You all ready to go?"

"Since you're a superhero I decided to make the portal as simple as possible." The robot turns aside and points to an exit. "There's two buttons. The first one's labelled 'on', and that turns it on. The second one's labelled 'off'. See if you can work out what that one's for by yourself."

"Irene Quimby still not called you back?"

"Don't even start with me, Orange."

"As.. someone who's been reasonably successful in my romantic relationships-."

"If the next part isn't 'I'll let you create a virtual copy of my brain to use as a social interactions app', don't bother."

"I think Georgia studied social science-?"

"Soft. Subject." The horse makes a pawing motion, then its right fore hoof falls off. "I have my pride."

"Have you considered-?"

"I can just turn the portal off permanently, you know? And I'm pretty sure I can make Earth Prime even harder to get to than it already is."

"Okay, okay. Is Georgia about?"

"Still on Colu and Dad's with the portal. Go on, get going. I don't want to have to spend all day on this horse because you distracted me."

"Alright. Oh, ah, Thaddeus?"

He actually looks up, clearly frustrated. "What?"

"Thank you for doing this. I don't think that anyone else could have done this, and if someone could then they clearly weren't bothering. I wasn't expecting anything like this and I'm really happy that you did it."

"Oh. Ah." He ducks back into his horse carcass. "No problem. I guess."

I nod to his back, then walk out of the room. Assuming that he hasn't moved it or something-.

"You're not my type!" I blink. W-? "Not that there's anything wrong with that! Just being clear!"

"Okay! Didn't think I was!"

"Okay then!"

I hear a damp thud, the ring showing me Thaddeus bang his forehead against his pickled horse flesh-covered work bench. I briefly consider making a comment about straight guys not being worth more points, but he has done me a massive favour and I don't think he'd appreciate the humour. Maybe I should.. try talking to Irene? Thaddeus Junior doesn't have a lot of friends… And I know her already through the mad scientist sponsorship program, so it wouldn't be coming completely out of nowhere.

I walk out of the room and turn left, heading towards heavy machine workshop four. Though the Sivana work areas in their Venus habitat can be reconfigured to however they want it, their patriarch doesn't hold with reordering the whole building without good reason. Large projects requiring large amounts of heavy equipment and huge power supplies go in rooms specifically designed for providing those things. And for containing the results if things don't go according to plan.

I walk up to the heavily fortified door and wave at the sensor. "Orange Lantern here. Any chance I could come in?"

A small television screen unfolds itself on an armature, Thaddeus Senior's face appearing a moment later. He does me the courtesy of actually appearing to look at me. "You finally got here. Come on in, we'll get the portal fired up."

Pistons and bolts which I'm almost certain are there purely for theatrical purposes hiss and turn, though I note a couple of force fields disengaging as well. "I'm glad that you think Mother is worth so much effort to protect."

"I've stopped taking things like this for granted where you are concerned."

The four-part door clanks back into its housing, allowing me entry to the heavy machine workshop. Most of the heavier machinery was cleared out once work on the portal was mostly completed, though there's still more than enough to perform maintenance or make emergency corrections. The portal generator itself looks like a stargate designed by Nikola Tesla, glowing rods and whirring thingummies humming with a purpose. Getting access to Earth Prime is so hard that Hinon only managed it by accident, so I'm not surprised that doing it intentionally took Sivana A-game. Creating a physical portal turned out to be even harder, but… Here we are.

And yes, there's the two-button control with both buttons labelled.

Thaddeus Senior looks up from a computer console bank to my left. "Well? Turn it on, then."

"Do those buttons actually do anything?"

"Certainly." He notices what I'm looking at. "Oh, this? This is just so that I can monitor the process."

"And fix it if anything goes wrong."

"Oh, there's no chance at that. If anything goes wrong it will happen far too quickly for anyone to intervene. But, any information I can gather before the horrendous reality-breaking overload will allow the next portal to be far more reliable."

"Um. That wouldn't destroy-?"

"Oh no, Earth Prime wouldn't be affected at all." He frowns. "Probably. Part of the reason why this is so hard is its unusual characteristics, and assuming that our model for this is correct, the blowback will be almost entirely here rather than there."

"Ah…"

"We're prepared for it. Sivana family honor is at stake."

"Alright then. Thank you for filling me with such confidence in your son's work."

"You're welcome."

The sad thing is that they really are the best at this. I stride forwards and press the 'on' button.

And the portal fizzes into life.

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th August
01:19 GMT -6

Mother steps through the portal. And I don't move, I don't… Say anything. I'm just-

"Hm." Thaddeus nods happily to himself. "That worked well."

-stunned, really. Mother looks… More or less as I remember her. My most intense memories were formed when I was younger than I was when I left so when I've thought about her during my time here that's the face I imagined. In reality she's in her sixties and it's a testament to favourable genetics that there's still more black hair on her head than white. She also has it cut shorter than she did when I was smaller. She also looks.. smaller..? Could be age, or it could be the fact that I've put on a lot of muscle during my time here.

She's staring at me, her mouth slightly open in surprise. We sent pictures through before, but I suppose that seeing me in the flesh has rather more impact.

Thaddeus frowns. "I'm not an expert on interpersonal relations, but shouldn't one of you be doing something?"

I rise off the ground to float up to her, an action which gets a surprised blink. Oh… Right, comic book universe technology versus early twenty first century Earth Prime technology. "Yeah, I can… Fly."

"Yes. I know you can."

I hover myself over to her and just stare at her for a moment. It's.. so strange, two parts of my world I'd assumed would never come together doing so. Then I land and hug her, mindful that I'm quite a bit stronger than I was last time I did this. I crouch slightly, lay my chin on her right shoulder as she wraps her arms around me in return. For a fraction of a second my happiness is disrupted by a worry about what happens when someone with no soul gets exposed to an orange power ring… But that's just understandable paranoia. That problem got fixed years ago.

Of course it did.

I pull away slightly, turning aside so that Mother can see Thaddeus. "Mother, this is Doctor Thaddeus Sivana. He was running the portal."

"I'm still running the portal. At least a part of the connection to Earth Prime was brute-forced. I'm not going to shut this down while you're still here, ma'am."

"There's also a good chance that he's an undiagnosed asperger, so please excuse any difficulty he has in his interpersonal skills."

"Is he… Ah..."

"He's a Captain Marvel villain, though he's found more productive avenues for his genius since then."

"You know I don't remember those things like you do."

"I don't think either he or Captain Marvel would have been in anything you would have seen. Unless you saw one of the older animations when you were younger."

Thaddeus frowns. "Now, just a moment. How old do you think I am?"

"Fawcett Comics started publishing Captain Marvel in… Some time in the forties? And you looked more or less as you do now, comic book exaggeration notwithstanding."

"And they named themselves after the city they were writing about? Strange choice."

"So… What have you been up to?"

I lead the way down the steps from the portal generator. "Lots of things, really. Ah, I met a lot of superheroes."

"Have you met Spiderman?"

I can't help but smile. "No, Mother, he's a Marvel character. Like Iron Man and Thor?" She nods in an uncertain manner, probably vaguely remembering me making similar comments before but not fully remembering their contents. "DC's the one who publish Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman."

She nods again. "Do you.. know Superman?"

"We're not.. super-close, but yes, I know him." After he actually admitted he was wrong about how he'd been handling Nabu, I decided to let the whole thing go. Since then, I've had plenty of time to build a better relationship with the man. "I'm quite a lot closer to Superboy-"

"So to speak."

"-than I am to him."

"Do you think I'd recognise any of them?"

…

Yes, what comic characters might my sixty year old Mother recognise.

Um…

"Richard Grayson?"

She raises her eyebrows slightly. "You know Robin?"

"He hasn't been Robin since he started going to college two years ago. Unlike in the comics, people actually get older here."

"Right." She looks around the room. "Where are we?"

Thaddeus walks out from behind his computer array. And I've just noticed the force field projector build into the ground surrounding it. "My home, laboratory and workshop. Your son helped build it, actually."

"Rebuild it. The original version got destroyed during the Sheeda invasion, and I.. rather felt that I owed him."

"Where in the world is it?"

"Venus." / "Venus."

"And who are the Sheeda?"

Thaddeus grins, and ignores my subtle head shake. "You mean, 'who were the Sheeda'."

"That's the other thing about a real comic book universe. Details that get.. skipped over. All the background characters who get killed but whom we don't really care about because they haven't had any screen time? They're actual people." She nods. "I know you said that you'd disown me if I ever joined the army-."

"I also told you that I don't remember saying that."

"At the higher end of the scale, being a superhero isn't just about knocking out lunatics in silly costumes and foiling their robbery attempts. I've killed… People. Vile criminals, aliens who weren't doing anything wrong according to their own morals, some people who were in the wrong place at the wrong time and got mind controlled…"

"How?"

I hold out my left hand. "This is called a power ring. It can.. do a lot of things. Make.. just about anything. I'm not just a.. superhero, I'm a… Top tier one. I could beat Superman in a fight. Not that we've ever actually fought.. seriously."

Mother nods. "I see. I'm.. sure you did you best…"

"I'd.. like to show you around a bit."

"And I want you to tell me what you've been doing for the last six years."

"That's going to take a while. Um, Doctor, would you mind if I used your kitchen?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th August
17:51 GMT

I float out of the hush tube into near-Emana space, the outline agreement on a datapad under my arm. Regent Alonzo isn't exactly an autocrat, and he needed time to find out precisely what -or rather who- he could offer me. Similarly, since I'm not planning on kicking King Myand'r out of office I'm technically only negotiating on his behalf and unless I want to give the impression that I'm planning to kick him out I will need him to okay this. Regent Alonzo was mostly interested in technical data and intelligence, but the fact that he asked me to include something about expanding our alliance later suggests to me that he at least understands that their shield will be going down in the not too distant future.

There's a flash of orange as Koriand'r transitions into close proximity. Since I didn't want my Lanterns spending the hour losing their focus, I ordered them to monitor specific areas of Emana to see what they were doing, with the sisters monitoring the capital city. I nod as she approaches. "What news?"

"They started to abandon their orbital shipyards a few minutes ago. Ships have been despatched to their mining colonies in this system to bring their citizens back to the planet. It appears that they will comply." I nod. "Would you actually have done it?"

"What, exterminated them?" She nods, clearly uncomfortable. "No. I would have carried out a limited strike against various facilities on their planet, inviting them to reconsider after each attack. And I would have taken as much of the orbital infrastructure by storm as possible, killing whatever workers were present. But I would have stopped well short of wiping the species out." She nods again, somewhat mollified. "Princess, I appreciate that the Branx were less directly involved in what happened to Tamaran than the Citadelians and the Gordanians and less involved in what happened to you than the Psions, but they are a part of the same alliance. The ships that destroyed the Tamaranean navy were designed and built here. A substantial chunk of the naval force that has maintained Citadel control-."

Her face hardens. "You do not need to remind me of those facts."

I nod sombrely. "I apologise. Perhaps if you told me precisely what your concerns were?"

"Citadel Complex was a military installation. All of the people there were warriors." Ignoring the allied tradespeople who ran most of the businesses in the entertainment district, certainly. "I would not hesitate to kill Branx warriors and I would certainly kill adults working in military industries, but I would not agree to simply bombard a planet until it was utterly destroyed."

I nod again. "Did I tell you that I had access to a Psion crèche when I was on the Wombworld?"

She shakes her head, her hair floating gloriously in the vacuum. "You mentioned that you were studying their civilisation, but you did not mention exactly where you went."

"There are peaceful Branx traders, just as there are peaceful Gordanian clans. The Citadelians are… Were, universally brutes, intentionally created as such. I wasn't sure about the Psions. I was on the verge of deciding that it didn't matter, but Mother Box-." She frowns slightly. "My AI. She pointed out that I could be killing good people, or at least people who were no worse than average. So I set out to check."

"What did you discover?"

"It might be possible to rehabilitate them. Maybe. But we can certainly kill all of the adults without being morally troubled by it; their educational indoctrination is very good." I sigh. "But they have children who can probably be taught to not be evil. And I'm… Going to make an attempt, if doing so is reasonably practical."

Koriand'r smiles at me. It's faint and I get the impression that she's somewhat surprised to be directing it at me, but it's there. And I… I feel a little… Good, to be receiving it. Heh. What a remarkable woman; to still feel sympathy for such a people after what she went through.

Attention: message incoming from planetary government.

"Excuse me." I raise my right hand. "Answer."

The same woman's face appears. "Grayven. We are preparing to acquiesce to the majority of your demands."

I nod. "And that's nearly good enough."

"We would like permission to keep the core of our satellite communications network-."

"I'm sure you would. No. You can use ground-based relays of some kind or high altitude in-atmosphere platform."

"I-." She appears to chew the cud for a moment, a gesture the ring helpfully tells me means that she's struggling to find the words with which to express herself. "What.. about.. defence? If we are limited to ground-based assets we will be extremely vulnerable."

That's.. a reasonable point. I want people to know that when I say 'surrender to my terms and there will be no further punishment' that that is what will happen. If a group of marauders fly through here in a few weeks time… "Very well. I will give you the designs for Euphorix's planetary shield, and guarantee your defence in the period it takes you to construct it."

"You do not have a fleet either. That is the reason why you are steal-. Confiscating our property."

"True, but I have a Lantern Corps. The people who make it up don't like you very much but they hate pirates and raiders even more."

"We also.. need to negotiate time. Some of our guilds are.. somewhat reluctant to-."

"Point us at the most reluctant ones. We'll soon get them moving." I glance at Koriand'r. "I'll give your people one year before we kill in response to a breach of your isolation in order for you to persuade people who haven't returned yet. However, deliberate dawdling may result in impoliteness."

"Then, on behalf of Emana, I.. acquiesce to your demands."

"Glad to hear it. Now get back to work." I dismiss the image then call Komand'r, her face appearing over the ring a moment later. "You hear that?"

"Yes. It was delicious to hear her so humbled."

"Take thirty Lanterns and start moving evacuated orbital structures to Tamaran." Hang on, they've only been using rings for a few days. "Probably best if you use boom tubes to get it to Tamaran and use rings for manoeuvring only. And make sure that there is a constant guard: the planet is our prisoner so it falls to us to look after it. And that goes for our people too. I don't want any of ours taking a sneaky shot once my back is turned."

She shrugs. "As you wish."

One hundred and forty two remaining. Give Komand'r a minute to make her picks…

"How is Ph'yzzon faring?"

Ah yes, the Psions tried to get creative with that one. "It turns out that the Psions didn't rediscover how their forebears created X'Hal. But they were trying to. With you and your sister they were simply trying to copy her more obvious abilities. With him they were trying to copy her higher order abilities instead."

"Were they successful?"

"They managed to do something, but… No, it appears not. If they'd kept trying… Perhaps, eventually." And I doubt that Mother Box will be anything like as enthusiastic about the idea of looking into it as Father Box would have been. "Sphere believes that he'll recover his senses eventually, but at the moment we're keeping him unconscious. Until we're sure that he's coherent." She nods, and I raise the ring again. "Grayven to everyone Komand'r hasn't given alternate orders to. We're heading to Rashashoon to rendezvous with the Karnan/Crown Imperium fleet, then we'll be pressing on to Karna to destroy the Gordanian war fleet. Once that is achieved, we will assist ground operations as requested."

I was surprised to learn that the Karnans had ships, but it turns out that a few were ordered to run when the Gordanian putsch happened and the Crown Imperium has been playing host to them since. Virtually all of the surviving vessels will be joining us, and the Crown Fleet were happy to join in if they got to see the largest source of pirates in the region finally cleaned out.

"Plot courses and warp on three."

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th August
01:47 GMT -6

"How are..?" I sigh. "I suppose that Bubbles and Magic are dead."

Mother puts down her coffee mug. "They were quite elderly Cats."

I nod sadly. It doesn't surprise me, but given how long we'd had them… Since.. Teekl I haven't even thought about getting a pet. And Wolf-.

What was I..?

"So, do you feel up to looking around? I-. Do you remember that I had a comic called Transmetropolitan? I don't remember if I ever showed it to you."

Mother shakes her head. "What was it about?"

"It was set in a American megalopolis, and it was about government corruption and people's responses to it. Technology changes but people stay the same." I shake my head. "The reason I mention it is that one of the things they did is, take people who'd been cryogenically preserved, reanimate them and then send them out into the world. And.. most of them, when they saw how weird it was, sort of… Couldn't cope and went into a mild fugue. Permanently, in most cases."

"What's it like, then?"

"Most places still aren't that different. Maybe what Earth Prime will be like in thirty to forty years. And then there are things that are totally out there. Most big cities have portals-. Remember Stargate?" Mother nods. "Not exactly like that, but if you step through one you turn up at another. I've basically killed off long haul air travel, global warming is a memory-."

"That's amazing!"

I shrug. "With the technology here, it's more amazing that no one did it before me. At the moment I'm focusing on restarting Human space travel, which… For some reason was still using rockets like NASA Prime."

Mother looks thoughtful for a moment. "Thaddeus called our Earth Earth Prime. What does that mean?"

"For the sake of convenience, different parallel universes get assigned labels so that we know what we're talking about. Ours is Prime, this is Sixteen, and… I've encountered one or two others."

I don't know if telling Mother about the other versions of me is a good idea. Clearly none of them have made contact with Mother yet. I've wondered, sometimes, if whatever it was that dragged us from Earth Prime copied us and sent us everywhere, so we're not just different versions of the same person but different people who used to be the same person. Earth Prime is unique in its characteristics, Blue-me's Bleed portal had the exact same characteristics as mine… It makes sense…

"Was there anything visible when I left? Like, a.. weird glowing hole in space or something?"

Mother shakes her head. "I don't know. By the time Cells4Life phoned me it'd been a couple of days. When I went to your house it didn't look like anything was out of order, and the police didn't find anything."

"It probably wouldn't have been possible to detect anything with Earth Prime technology." Though they must be going… Crazy… Now…

Um.

Um? What was I..?

Ah.

"So how's everyone in..? Um, on.. Earth Prime?"

"Fine. Peter and Karen's cottage is mostly finished now-."

"Have they sorted out the drive yet?"

"No, it's still brick and mud. But the… You know the room where we put our coats?" I nod. "That's got a settee and a fireplace now. Your Dad's still swimming regularly."

"Anything radically new?"

"None of the rest of us have been pulled into a parallel universe and become superheroes, no."

"And how's everyone taking the news?"

"Shocked. When the radio first started playing messages I thought it was.. some sort of… A trick. There wasn't any sign you'd actually died, you hadn't left any sort of note or done anything…"

"Anything that suggested that I was planning to go off somewhere and kill myself." I shrug. "Good news: I didn't." I frown. "So… No one apart from you and Dad know?"

"What were we supposed to tell them? Now there's an actual thing there to point to we can.. tell people. We should probably let the police know first." Mother… Mother? Mother exhales, her hands playing with her mug. "You've probably got more experience with that sort of thing that I have. What do you think we should do about it?"

I huff. "No idea. Technically, it would be the job of the Foreign Office to establish relations… If they wanted to. But we can't make the portal bigger than it is now. Trade's pretty much impossible, as most of the really useful technology we've got wouldn't work on Earth Prime. And we'd probably get sued by DC."

"I don't think it works like that."

"Probably not."

Mother finishes off the last of her coffee as I think about how I want to do this. No, let's see what she wants to ask.

"So… Are you the only Orange Lantern?"

Ah. "The only one on Earth, yes." Am I? Yes, of course I am. But why? There's no logical reason for me not to have recruited additional local help. We're not short of avaricious Humans, I'd be around-. Oh! No, of course! How could I forget Lex taking a ring from me? "No, sorry, I-."

How could I forget Lex taking a ring from me?

Damn, that's… That's not even subtle. But what else..?

I look Mother in the eyes. Heh. Once you know to look…

"I'm sorry, I didn't mention it before. But you're looking very well, Mother."

"Thank you?"

"I'd say that you haven't aged since I last saw you. At all. And I've never referred to you as Mother before today, except sarcastically. A dozen times in this conversation alone I've experienced moments of confusion resulting from what felt a lot like telepathically induced doublethink, because they trained us to spot that as well. And I'm sure there are things I'm missing, or was made to forget or not notice."

"Who are you?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th August
01:51 GMT -6

"I don't know what you're-."

"What's my name?"

Mother -or whatever I'm talking to- shakes her head. "You know what your name is."

"Of course I do." And while that idea feels completely natural, I can't help but notice that a few moments ago I felt rather differently about it. "It's not remote mind control, is it? If it was and you were controlling me this completely, I wouldn't be able to notice that you were doing it. You've connected yourself directly to my central nervous system."

I knew-. I knew-. It's gone. I knew who this was, but that memory is being suppressed as well. Vexing. "I remember Abra saying my name, but that was just you poking my own memory remotely. You can't say it yourself, can you?"

"Of course I can, P-."

The world vanishes, my eyes… My scum-encrusted eyes opening to a field of rotting corpses bound together by thick, woody brown-green vines. Some of the remains are rotted through, little more than desiccated skin and hair holding bone together. Others are fresh, oozing blood from the wounds that took the lives of their former occupants. A few metres in front of me to my left a reptilian hexapod wrapped in vines and flowers blinks, shudders and exhales, the colours of its soul fading before my eyes-.

And then the room reappears, Mother glowering at me.

I know that world. I know what happened. I just can't think it.

"Okay, so what happens now? Do you just wait for me to starve to death? Because that's going to take a very long time."

Alright, what's the last thing I remember clearly? My unedited memories should still be perfect, and if I'm consciously experiencing the editing process for them I doubt whatever this is has actually created false memories for years. I clearly remember from waking up with Kon-.

And the day before that, when-. No, that's generic. You might as well use an algorithm. But I remember-. Just walking around. And Kon and I being in the kitchen, talking about-. Literally lifted from a conversation we had years ago in the Mountain. What was I doing last year?

…

Well shit.

Okay, I… I remember killing Nabu very clearly. Meeting Hinon? Yep. Killing the Citadelians… Killing..? I mind controlled a group of Citadelians into fighting for me, and… I talked to Medphyll about it later. Picking up Dox, yes, I remember that fight-.

And when I asked that Martian security guard what my name was.

The field of corpses reappears, a vine extending into the remains of the reptilian as I watch. How do I feel? Basically..? There's a weight on my chest, a tightness… Why would anything making a nervous system interface go through the chest? It would be far easier to go in through the spine or skull. I look down-.

Flowers. The vines are reaching out from the central cluster, reaching around-. They must be what's plugging into me. I can't feel them, but-

The Sivana family kitchen -which now I take a closer look I see is identical to the one I saw during my first visit- reappears.

-then I wouldn't be able to. Some sort of predatory plant? Wasn't there an episode of X-Files where Mulder got eaten by a giant fungus? But this isn't a chemically induced hallucination, and I am talking to the directing mind here.

I remember going with Medphyll to free Dox, I remember in tedious detail the meetings which followed while we fleshed out how the Corps was going to recruit. Dox wanted some proof that my vetting was superior to the analytic system he designed, and I flew off to recruit…

Sodam Yat? No, I don't.. remember going to Daxam. I wasn't even sure I wanted to go there until I could speak to Kon about it. And maybe Kal-El. Qward? No. Nothing. I-.

I remember shaking hands with a short but heavily built man-.

The textures are wrong! That's an interpretation of my memory of the Weaponer from the comics! I don't know what the man really looks like!

Alright. So it's preventing me from remembering the recruit. And I don't have clear memories of anything since then until waking up this morning, so presumably that's when this actually is. I can't remember who I was coming to see or where I saw that planet before. Any other clues? I'm calling the thing that looks like my Mum 'Mother', it must have been something that I thought might make a good Lantern… Or just ambushed along the way. No, that doesn't sound likely. There aren't many things that could both beat me in combat without killing me and then do something like this. That suggests… I dropped my defences willingly. Okay, past-me has some explaining to do.

I smile.

"And you should have remembered to erase my memory of my notebook, Mother of Mercy."

"I have never thought of myself by that name. A reference to a figure from your species' primary religion and to the common name for my children."

"Oh, good, you're not erasing it anymore. Thank you." Mum's facial expression has gone slightly blank, Mother of Mercy not using my memories to animate it any longer. "What was this in aid of?"

"Making your death painless, should I judge that your offer was unrealistic."

"I still don't… Did you erase it, or are you suppressing it? Because if I followed through on my idea of offering you a power ring, I'm pretty sure that it was realistic. I've got hundreds of the bloody things. And I can't imagine what you thought that I might be able to do to you after you put one on that I couldn't just do anyway."

"I wanted to see from your own thoughts what it is that you are trying to build."

"And the thing with Jade, Kon and M'gann that's never going to happen?"

"It matches your desires. I had hoped that you would be so happy with the situation that you would not question it."

"That isn't what I want. It would never work. I know that, why don't you?"

"I altered the way in which you weighed the factors affecting your decision. If they accepted the relationship, you would be most happy."

"Oh, then why not throw in… Holly, Karon, Selina, Dannette and Harleen while you're at it?"

"I have a great deal of experience with differing social models. Adding additional people to the scenario -even if you found them attractive- would most likely have resulted in you being less happy. Your brain favours small tight-knit groups for long term companionship, even if your lust might encourage a different mating pattern."

"If I remember correctly..?" She nods. "You don't mate at all. In other circumstances I'd be fascinated to ask what you make of the whole business, but at the moment I'm more interested in what happens next. Did you learn what you wanted to?"

"You bore no resentment for the past crimes of your allies, and you were honestly delighted in them dedicating themselves and their abilities to ends you consider productive. You want to build and aid your fellows. I have learned that you were honest with me."

"Then I'll be honest again. You'd probably be better with an indigo ring. But I don't have those. You saw the comic I read in which you were offered both yellow and green rings. I'd like to get my offer in first, but I'd understand if you wanted to consider other offers."

"I am minded to accept. However, I have two concerns."

"Okay. What are they?"

"Firstly, Mongul has placed sixteen antimatter planetary demolition charges under this world's crust. In the event that I act against him they will detonate. When I was smaller such a cataclysm was survivable, but he has forced me to grow much since we first met."

"We could deal with that. What else?"

"I detected your presence when you first arrived, and reported it. A flotilla is approaching already."

"Oh. Oh dear."

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th August
I'll get back to you

"Do you know how many ships they're sending?"

"Only approximately. The parts of myself I use to manipulate gravity can sense the distortions created by matter, but the resolution is poor by the standards you are accustomed to."

"Okay, let me go and I'll take a look."

"That is where I am still uncertain."

I bow my head slightly, nodding. "Because they won't kill you if you've done what they told you to, but they might if you're actively helping me."

"If it is Mongul, then he would kill me without a doubt."

I look up. "And then what?"

"Your remains will either decorate his throne room or I will be given them to fertilise my soils."

"But what happens to you?"

"I will continue."

"And Mongul will continue using your offspring as devices of torture and terror. Across quite a large swath of the galaxy that's all they're known for."

"I have seen your memories of the Beast. Do not expect me to believe that an Orange Lantern would be better regarded."

"Not yet. The difference is, we're in a position to do something about it. You're stuck. Do you know how long Mongul's species lives? Do you want to gamble on his heir treating you differently?"

"I have no need to gamble. I can wait."

"With bombs at your core ready to go off the moment he decides that he doesn't want you around any longer. But that's not my question. I know that you can survive like this. My question is: is this what you want?"

"No."

"What do you want?"

"When I was small and simple, it was the earliest stirrings of curiosity which led me to the surface." The kitchen falls away as she changes the illusion to show her former self deep underwater. Far from her current world-covering size, her former self was a ball of vines no more than five metres across. I watch her release her grip from the seabed and rise towards the shore of a small rocky island. I see her pull herself out of the water and plug her vines into the dying pilot of a small spacecraft. "When I interfaced with that alien's mind, I gained full access to his memories. You already know that I used that connection to induce a pleasant delusion as he died. What you do not know is that contact with his mind caused massive change within my own. I had no language before that. I hardly thought at all of anything save ocean currents and feeding. But contact with another mind taught me so much."

"About the universe? I assume that-."

"No." Time rapidly passes in the image, the alien decaying and Mother of Mercy growing. "About pain."

"That's.. what you took away from it?"

"I lacked sensory nerves in the way that you possess them. When I became damaged I was aware of it, but only in a far less immediate way. When I touched that first individual's mind it was pain that was the strongest sensation."

"I see."

"I now understand that it strongly slanted my still-forming mind, but-."

"Your first sentient thoughts were filled with pain. Someone else's, but I can see how that would colour your perception."

"So I created the parts of me you know as Black Mercies."

"How?"

"I believe that my ability to interface with other species was originally for hunting. I would be able to lure mobile species closer by connecting to their central nervous systems. Making them feel good is so much simpler than controlling their motor neurons."

"I meant, how did you know how to do that? To modify your body like that? Or is it just something your entire species can do?"

"I do not know. I have never encountered another being like me, or heard of anyone who has. Modifying my body felt natural. Perhaps it is how I am meant to reproduce."

"And you used your gravity manipulation abilities to send them out while calling spaceborne corpses back to you. What did you want?"

"To prevent pain."

"Have you stopped wanting to do that?"

"No."

"Tell me about the bombs."

"When I was smaller, they would have destroyed the planet but in a way I could have survived. Eventually I would have come to a new planet and awoken. Now, my roots extend down towards the mantle to draw upon geothermic energy and my growth buds reach outside of this world's atmosphere. I am too large. The detonation of any one bomb would kill me."

"Do you know where they are?"

"Yes. However, they are designed to react explosively to any attempt I might make to tamper with them."

"Can you touch their outer casing?"

"Yes. Mongul insisted that I do so in order to confirm that his threat was real."

It's not completely reliable, but… "Do they seem in any way strange to your gravity sense?"

"I don't know. I have had no other contact with antimatter."

"But you can sense the mass, yes?"

"Yes."

"Alright. Then I probably have a way to remove them. Or rather, I can give one to you."

"How?"

"I came here with a newly minted orange power ring. One of a power ring's abilities is to put objects into a subspace pocket. Now, I assume that the bombs are designed in such a way that tampering with one successfully triggers the rest-."

"You are an experienced Lantern. Why do you not remove them?"

"Because if you let me go and I have to do something like that, it'll be obvious. Our best chance for dealing with that fleet is for them to have no idea that you're hostile until it's too late for them to escape." I lean forwards slightly. "So I ask again: what do you want?"

"I want to be free."

"Then free me."

I feel a damp crunching from my chest as the field of rot reappears and the Black Mercy falls from my chest. That's a rather unpleasant-looking wound.

Wholeness Rightly Assumed.

Compliance.

I come to my feet and hold out my right hand, sliding the new ring free from my ring finger. Then I turn around to look at the towering mass of pale green vines and purple blisters which makes up the locus of Mother of Mercy's world-spanning consciousness.

"Mother of Mercy of Ater Clementia, you want to prevent suffering and I want you for the Orange Lantern Corps." She extends a tendril down towards me. "Take my ring."

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th August
22:42 GMT

Turns out, I did take precautions before letting Mother of Mercy stick a Black Mercy on my chest. And while I'm not exactly patting past-me on the back for that idea, it has worked. Mother of Mercy's locus is now sporting a glowing vine-knot in the pattern of an orange sigil and is working to envelop the antimatter planetary scuttling charges even as I use my ex-Darkstar stealth reconnaissance drones to observe the incoming fleet. On the plus side, no Warworld. If that monstrosity had turned up I think I'd probably try and work out how to run rather than trying to fight it.

On the downside, that's very definitely an Engine City parked on the super-Earth one place further from the local star than Ater Clementia. Engine Cities are the basis of Mongul's industrial base, and how a man who can barely withstand his desire to kill everyone around him at the best of times has a functioning empire. Giant, automated resource-extraction systems, the Engine Cities get planted on worlds he expands to after their population has stopped resisting -usually due to being dead- and turn them into more ships, robots and new Engine Cities. The fleet appears to have decided to stop off there prior to coming here, which suggests that they're not exactly in a hurry. Which in turn most likely means that they have accepted what Mother of Mercy… Sorry, Lantern Mother of Mercy, has told them about who she captured.

I don't remember a lot about Mongul, or his children Mongul Junior and Mongal. They're big, strong, tough and reasonably-but-not-super fast. Mongul was in Justice League Animated for a couple of episodes, where he was shown to be a high end brawler of reasonable intelligence. I also read 'For the Man Who Has Everything' after watching the Justice League Animated episode based on it. Based on that I'd call him arrogant and aggressive, and nothing on John's old ring database contradicts that assessment.

Assuming it's accurate, what does that tell me? If he thought I was a threat he'd come himself. If he felt that a member of a Lantern Corps -established or up and coming- was intruding on his territory then he'd come himself to avenge the insult and make the rest of the organisation think twice. And he wouldn't stop off somewhere first. In fact, he'd probably send someone else to do that after he'd dealt with me while he went back to whatever he'd been doing beforehand. So, minimal chance it's him.

While he has had subordinates before, they generally don't last long and those ships match the style of his main fleet. So, Mongul Junior -who briefly dethroned Sinestro in the comics- or Mongal. The only thing I remember her doing was taking part in the fight against Imperiax. Mongul Junior would probably be glad to take a ring from me, work with me to kill his father and then kill me as soon afterwards as he could. Mongal… Pass. No idea. She could be a chip off the old block or genuinely want to leave. I've got no way to know unless I get a good deal closer than I am right now.

"I am ready."

I nod. "There's only so much I can do defensively, but I'll put a barrier up underground. That won't stop the destruction of the planet, but it should keep some of the energy off us until I can get your core away. Have you made preparations for surviving that?"

"As much of my consciousness as can be moved is in the stem you see before you. I will still lose a good deal of my capacities, and will most likely enter a torpor while I attempt to heal myself."

"If it comes to it I'll put you in good soil. And have a Controller or two look you over to see if there's anything they can do to speed up the process."

"Thank you."

I kneel, shoving my left gauntlet into the vine carpet and then extending a thick thread of orange light downwards. As Lantern Mother of Mercy said, she doesn't have much feeling in most of her body so cutting through a vine or two won't actually hurt her. I'd still rather avoid it, though. Okay, avoid the main vines going downwards… We're about as far from the bombs here as we can get without leaving the surface, and there's a lot of solid rock in the way as well. But antimatter bombs ensure perfect energy release and the bombs here are big. Planets aren't solid bodies, but the shockwaves will still be large enough to shatter the surface entirely if two go off. One wouldn't do quite that much damage, but I still wouldn't want to try living here afterwards.

Of course, most of the matter would still be here and it would probably coalesce into a new planet in a few thousand years or so. But again, not really helpful.

I'm confident of my ability to extract Lantern Mother of Mercy's core even in a high-gamma radiation environment. And I'm.. a little curious as to what being blasted off a planet on a rock plug would feel like. But that at least is simple. If I assume that that doesn't happen, we'll still be left with the fleet. Lantern Mother of Mercy's gravity manipulation is long ranged but weak; no ripping ships apart or anything convenient like that. The ships have their shields at cruising power rather than combat power. I don't know exactly how much antimatter there is in the bombs, but if the shields are up I don't expect to be able to kill the ships with the bombs. The blast waves don't meaningfully travel through space and gamma radiation isn't that hard to deflect.

That Engine City, on the other hand, looks marvellously vulnerable. And I'd bet on crumbler rounds against their shields and my FTL against theirs. Reinforcements are unlikely. Mongul's people tend to go in mob-handed or not at all and if the commander of this flotilla fails Mongul then I doubt that there'll be retaliation in the short term.

Against me, anyway.

"I am about to take hold of the bombs."

"Okay." I spread out my construct shield-plate. "Give me a count-."

"It is done."

"Oh." I blink, then shrug inside my armour and stand up, dismissing my construct. "Ready for the next step?"

"Yes."

"Bombs at the ready. On my mark." Construct armour forms around my body as orange light spreads out across every part of Lantern Mother of Mercy's body. "Three, two, one, go."

If I don't get to try living through an antimatter-powered planet-busting then I'll have to make do with another first. The first time I've ridden on a faster than light planet.

"Hahahahahahahaha!"

I spread my arms wide and cackle dementedly as orange construct versions of the spires Lantern Mother of Mercy uses to manipulate gravity shoot upwards and the sky twists and jumps in response. It's not far to go but there's a lot of mass here and Lantern Mother of Mercy is somewhat new at this.

"They're asking what's happening."

I guess that's my cue then.

Space bends around me as I leap from the surface of Ater Clementia, the sheer grey walls of the fleet's largest ship appearing a moment later. I generate a construct railgun, paint a construct target on the side of the vessel and open fire with crumbler rounds as beneath me the surface of Ater Clementia's neighbour erupts in a ball of antimatter-enriched death. The Engine City vanishes, the continent it sat on evaporates and the planet's surface jerks in a way that's visible from space from the force of the blast. Ship's shield -I start taking laser fire from the ship's point defences but it's nothing my construct armour can't take- fails over a small area, okay, fine, new construct railguns and fire over a wider area.

There's more flickering as the shield restarts and then fails over a larger area. The gap between the shield and the hull-. Ring, transmit that to Lantern Mother of Mercy.

Compliance.

Should be enough room to dump a bomb in there through a gap… And my goodness doesn't having a planet suddenly appear out of nowhere cause a fleet to panic. One of the capital ships starts its FTL systems up immediately -which I jam- while the rest are trying to scatter with sublight drives.

"I am planting the bomb."

Not hanging around for that one. I warp back to Ater Clementia's surface, then have the ring show me the enemy fleet's capital ship. Around me plumes of fire from whatever weapons were pointed in our direction rain down on Lantern Mother of Mercy's construct shields, occasionally punching through to blast against the surface. Not much threat to her mind here but if they destroy too much she won't be able to use FTL for a while.

The capital ship wheels, armour plates sliding open as its anti-planet missiles prepare to fire and I start to feel just a little-.

Then the antimatter charges detonate. And it's beautiful.

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th August
22:45 GMT

The ship… I don't know what class it is. Given the missiles… Planetary assault dreadnaught, maybe? The blast shoves it sideways, the hull caving around the detonation as it eats through the armour and into the squishy interior. The point defence drones that were shooting at me evaporate around the hole in the ship's shields but… Hah! The shield sections that are still intact are reflecting the gamma burst inwards against the hull! That whole side of the ship is superheating! Lights flicker out as the internal power systems fail and ooh, someone was carrying antimatter!

The ship jerks again as its entire centre comes apart in a huge blast which splits the ship in two as well as eating through most of the interior as the armoured hull channels the blast inwards. Life signs, few and fading.

I turn back towards Lantern Mother of Mercy's locus. "Set course for Maltus, would you?"

"I will need to redirect effort from my defences to do that."

"Alright, I'll see if I can persuade them to back off. How many bombs left?"

"Eleven."

And they only have four capital ships left. Good show. I hold my left hand out in front of me, palm upwards. "Orange Lantern Two Eight One Four to whoever's in charge of Mongul's fleet. Cease fire and get lost, or we do to the rest of you what we did to your flagship."

I raise an FTL interdiction construct, focusing its effect on Ater Clementia's far side. Don't really want them repositioning around the planet or coming closer, but I do want them to be able to leave. The surviving ships stop shooting and manoeuvre into something approaching a formation.

"I am Mongal and I command this fleet. That was not our flagship."

"Really?"

"I would not be talking to you if it was."

"No, I mean, Mongul seriously named his daughter 'Mongal'? Is he that arrogant or is he just not very good at names?"

"You destroyed our Engine City, our bulk carrier and now you childishly mock my name! Die!"

The capitals ships roll slightly, bring their guns to bear on the planet-.

"Distort gravity to turn their shots aside, then prepare to deploy the bombs."

"That will be difficult."

"You don't have to do it for long."

An image appears in my mind showing me what she means. The distortions she makes are gradual and not sharp. Where they are now she can turn their shots aside. As they come closer -which they're doing- the amount which the shots will be deflected drops. She could use her ring to change that, but smaller missiles and drone attack craft are already heading this way.

Ring, I'm assuming that they've blocked most forms of FTL?

Affirmative.

What aren't they blocking?

Luminal state drives are not blocked.

Alright, not my favourite form but I can work with that. The ship's main guns are fixed position, secondary weapons are mounted on ball turrets. They still have a fighter screen…

Ring, set subluminal emergence point to just past the last capital ship.

Compliance.

Engage.

There's a flash as my ring briefly convinces the universe that I'm made of faster than light particles, then the stars reappear. I spin about, phasing as I take a chance on the fleet not having noticed-. No, they noticed. I come back into phase and generate construct armour and railguns. Let's try… Solid slugs, I think. Target the interceptors until I'm close enough to mark the capital ships.

Compliance.

Tungsten slugs blast forth and… The drones are using gravity impellers, jerking left and right in defiance of momentum and effortlessly avoiding my shots. Fine, drop the railguns and switch to cold guns.

Compliance.

And adopt an evasive flight pattern.

Compliance.

Space wheels about me as my ring copies the style of my opponents without precisely copying their patterns, white beams from my cold guns being replied to by golden bolts of… Some sort of exotic radiation beam, apparently. A couple of strikes on my construct faceplate result in mild cracking, the majority of their shots going wide. Though that will change as they start to reach me. My own shots miss, miss-. Ah, that one carried on to hit one of the capital ships and.. caused a momentary collapse of its outer shield layer. A plasma field thick enough to absorb a cold beam? By most standards that's excellent shielding. That ship's a brawler.

A hit, and the drone tumbles in space. It doesn't stop but continues in a ballistic arc based on its momentum. Ring, try and line up more so that misses hit the capital ships.

That utility was already included in calculations.

Oh. Well done.

I watch as on the far side of the enemy fleet their main guns fire again, giant glowing beams lancing towards Ater Clementia and slowly bending away from their target. They skim the atmosphere before flying out into deep space.

Let's not let too many of those happen.

The drones start reducing their acceleration in order to avoid flying past me, making shooting them a little easier. The ones in a direct line start to die en masse but I'm aware that the swarm is starting to loop back and surround me. Since I'm not slowing and the angle isn't good for them at the moment I'm not taking extra hits myself, but that will change when they form up behind me.

Okay, close enough. I don't slow, but I switch my cold gun constructs for railguns and open fire. I'm not familiar with this particular shield configuration, but the ships have far too much mass for them to be able to dodge effectively. I think it was G'Kar who said that the logical places to aim when shooting at a ship were the drive and the weapons as both have to be exposed with minimal armour. And he wasn't wrong; while the primary generator, bridge and crew quarters will be deep inside the hull most ships use forms of sublight drive which require something to be expelled. Shielding also tends to be weaker due to the space requirements for the emitters. Not all, gravity drives don't need anything like that, but Mongul appears to use that for drones only. Odd choice, but, whatever.

Crumbler rounds slam into the shield around the exhausts of the closest capital ship, the barrier shimmering and failing, second layer going the same way and-. The top layer regenerated! Gosh, that was fast. Okay, I don't think I can match that to Lantern Mother of Mercy's bomb deployment, not without slowing down and getting shot dead by drones and point defences.

Brute force it is then.

"Lantern Mother of Mercy, prepare to deploy the first bomb wave."

"I am ready."

I fire again, sending thick strands of orange in the wake of the crumble rounds. The outer layer of shielding breaks again, but this time I generate an armoured construct cylinder in the place it used to be. The shield tries to flow back in from the sides even as the next crumbler round takes down the second layer and I extend the construct inwards. Tethers vanish as whoever's controlling the drones works out what I'm doing and I have to work to establish new ones faster than they can be destroyed. Come on… Yes! Three layers only, the next shot hit the hull directly.

"Now!"

Faster than I could think an orange beam envelopes the ship, Lantern Mother of Mercy dropping two bombs inside the now open shield envelope. I drop my construct and make a luminal jump away as the ship erupts from the rear.

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th August
22:48 GMT

While nothing like as cataclysmic as what happened to the cargo carrier, the effect is still substantial. The thrusters assembly is gone, the rear quarter of the ship almost entirely hollowed out with the hull and most heavily armoured internal structures sticking out into space. The shields are down all over the ship, so either the internal damage not immediately visible is so great as to take down the whole system or the commander saw the carrier fried by gamma radiation and has decided that containing the radiation is a bigger risk to the ship than a follow up bomb.

If that was the case then they were badly wrong, as I'm already moving onto the next ship when the first is lit up with orange light once again as Lantern Mother of Mercy deploys another bomb. This one appears next to the primary weapon and detonates immediately. With the ship designed to point that weapon directly at its enemy the surrounding armour is massively thick and sophisticated. That, combined with the surrounding vacuum limiting shockwave transmission means that the front end isn't damaged anything like as badly as the rear. That is to say, it still exists. The main gun is slagged, the armour is glowing red as heavily distorted plates continue to boil away from the hull. And it looks like the secondary turrets are no longer tracking, so either power is down or we hit the bridge.

I alter my direction of travel, aiming at the next ship.

Ring, message to the fleet.

Compliance.

"Mongulists. Cease fire and withdraw or I do that to the rest of you."

"We will scour Ater Clementia of life before allowing you a victory!"

"While I would much rather recover Mother of Mercy, killing you represents an acceptable 'next best thing'. You know I can kill you. The most sensible thing you could do would be to fall back and try again when you're better prepared. I will not repeat this offer. Fire again, and we don't stop until your ships are wrecked and everyone on board is dead."

If it comes to that, Lantern Mother of Mercy will have taken substantial damage. I'd rather not make that trade…

Of course, if I'm really lucky she'll shout 'I'll kill you myself' and come after me in a personal fighter. If that happens I'll have a reasonable chance at turning the ship crews to my cause on the grounds that going back to Mongul minus an Engine City, a Mother of Mercy and a daughter wouldn't do much for their life insurance premiums.

"Three, two-."

"I accept your terms, but mark my words, Lantern! Your head will decorate my father's halls-!"

"And not yours. Yes, I rather understood that was how it worked. You know, if you'd rather work for someone else-?"

Channel closed.

Yes, I suppose that was a bit hopeful. The ships begin to wheel around, secondary turrets not even pointing at Ater Clementia. I don't stop or drop my railgun turrets, but as the drones fly past me without firing and head for their parent ships I start to wind down mentally. I alter my course to fall back slightly, keeping my guns trained on them but allowing my shot to gradually worsen. I wonder if there's a way to create faster than light crumblers? No, stupid question, obviously there is, but I wonder if there's a way to do it without building a full sized FTL torpedo. Those things aren't common for a good reason: they're far too easy to distract or disrupt. Some sort of… Space warping field projection, maybe..?

"Thank you for liberating me."

"There's a Human expression, Lantern Mercy. Don't count your chickens before they're hatched."

"Because some eggs may get eaten or otherwise be destroyed before that. Where can you see potential for a problem to arise?"

"Anger is a tricky beast. They might call in reinforcements, even knowing that we'd kill them in retaliation, rather than let us win. In order to let them leave I'm having to give them an escape vector where I'm not jamming faster than light travel. A way out is a way in."

"I have an additional problem."

"Oh, what's that?"

"Between the energy I am committing to the subspace pocket containing the remaining bombs and the shields I am maintaining to protect myself, my ring is very low on power."

"How low?"

"Eight percent."

"Okay, as long as they don't fire-."

"Seven percent."

What's using-? Gravity distortions. Maintaining a construct requires avarice, making it in the first place requires ring power. As long as those barriers don't get shot they don't take any more power, but the gravity distortions she's using to shield herself do. Can't recharge without dropping her construct…

Ring, is superluminal travel still available?

Confirmed.

Plot course to Lantern Mother of Mercy's locus and execute.

Compliance.

A flash and I'm back on the ground. I take a moment to reorientate myself and then march toward her, my left gauntlet disappearing into subspace as I do so.

"The plan is, you take my ring, switch to using that, then pass me your ring for me to recharge. Simple enough?"

"There will be a slight shift in the gravity distortion. They may be able to detect it."

"Six percent power remaining."

"They're quite a lot more likely to detect your construct barriers vanishing." I pull my ring off and hold it out to her. "Do it."

A tendril sprouts from my left, reaching out from the main mass. "No ritual handover this time?"

"Not for fieldwork."

Her tendril plucks my ring from my hand, my environmental shield going out as she does so. Okay, that always worries me a little, but… Air pressure's a little high on my left hand, but nothing dangerous. Local air isn't breathable by a standard pattern humanoid, but my armour's atmosphere recycling system can handle it easily for the few seconds it'll take for her to pass me hers. She pulls my ring to her central mass, a slight ripple passing through her environmental shield as she syncs them up.

"Did they notice?"

"I do not believe so." Another tendril swings around, her dimly glowing ring falling from the end into my waiting hands.

"Right."

I slide her ring onto my left ring finger, then summon her lantern from subspace. The new model lanterns look like miniature versions of the Orange Central Power Battery rather than the 'classic' design mine has. I wouldn't change it for anything, but I can't deny that the new version looks more… Appropriate, for a space-aged military police force.

"This is my cause, this is my fight-."

"Is that necessary?"

"No." I tap the ring against the body of the personal lantern.

"Charge at one hundred percent."

"But it's traditional. What we're doing, devoting our lives to improving the universe, it's a big deal. And it's easy to get distracted from the mission. Particularly with orange rings."

"How so?"

"Getting to do whatever you want is addictive. The oath is there to ensure that we constantly remind ourselves of our higher ideals, but… I don't intend to lock personal lanterns to a mantra, and there are Green Lanterns who don't use one."

"What should it consist of?"

"Something that reminds you of why you're doing this. What it is you hope to achieve with your ring. And it's traditionally four lines of eight syllables in whatever language you choose for it."

"Then I believe that I have something in mind for my own."

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th August
03:04 GMT

I lean back slightly as I look at the effect of Mother of Mercy's spatial warp through her atmosphere. It's kind of.. soothing in a way that my own warps aren't. No sign of pursuit from the Mongalites, though we have had the occasional curious transmission from ships and worlds that we've travelled past.

But, joyride's over.

"Orange Lantern Two Eight One Four to Controller Hinon. Please respond."

"Paul!" Hinon's smiling face appears over my ring. "We were beginning to worry that something might have happened to you."

"Really?"

"I was. Dox was being depressingly sanguine about the whole thing. What news?"

"Recruitment successful. Mother of Mercy has accepted an orange ring and performed well in combat."

"'Mother of Mercy'? Is she theologically inclined? I did think about the possibility of using the theologically inclined as Lanterns when Krona and I brainstormed the subject…"

"Not as… Far as I know." I glance back, keeping Hinon from getting a look at Lantern Mother of Mercy's locus. "Are you?"

"My children have posed as a being of religious veneration for untold millions of dying sophonts. I have no inclination to such reverence myself."

I nod, then turn back to Hinon. "She says 'no'."

"So who is she?" Hinon cocks her head to the side a little. "You didn't give a ring to your Spider-friend, did yo-?"

"No."

"Hmm. Given the significance of your first recruitment mission I doubt that you would have done anything so dull as recruit another Humanoid. An AI, perhaps? I'm sure that Dox would appreciate someone on his wavelength." Her eyes widen slightly. "You haven't reconditioned a Manhunter, have you?"

I frown. "No. That's something that no one should ever do. And I'm a bit iffy on the Fists, to be honest."

"Did you know that the Guardians still use them?"

"What, Fists? Yes, Jordan's report on Sinestro's arrest-."

She huffs. "No, not Fists. Manhunters."

What? "What?"

"Manhunters. You know, the big red and blue robot things-.

"I know what the Manhunters are. Why the.. heck are the Guardians still using them?"

"Waste not want not. After the remaining ones were deactivated, they kept them in one piece as objects of study, then.. later as aids to memory. Eventually they reprogrammed them for guard duty."

Huh. Logically, if their programming was completely stripped out… I really don't think that the Guardians would have made the same mistake twice. Still…

"Yes, I see that you don't approve. Would you like to guess where they're deployed?"

"The Sciencells? I can't think of any other locations they might want to guard that don't get visi-." I blink. "No."

"Where else would they put them? You yourself have already seen how the Guardians like to conceal multiple sins behind the same exclusion zone. Anywhere else and someone was bound to stumble across them sooner or later."

"Abin Sur went there. He couldn't have missed them."

"Green Lanterns tend to have a rather narrow focus. Though I don't know for certain, I imagine that utilising the simple expedient of hiding in interstellar space with their power cores turned down to minimum would have been sufficient."

"Huh. I might-."

"Ooh, that's a rather large warp displacement. Did you decide to bring a ship of some kind with you?"

"We are nearly at the boundary of Maltusian space."

I glance back with a nod. "Very well. Return us to normal space at your convenience. Hinon, I hope that the Controllers on catching duty have had their Weetabix."

"Now I'm curiou-" The space outside Ater Clementia's atmosphere steadily returns to normal. "-oh my goodness. You recruited a planet."

"Technically, a macroorganism who covers the entire surface rather than the planet itself. I thought, the Green Lantern Corps has Mogo, and he has a certain.. presence. So we need one."

Hinon considers that for a moment. "Yes, very orange of you. I'll.. just go and let Dox know."

"I don't think he can have missed a new planet. Where would you like her to enter orbit?"

"I do hope that you're referring to her orbiting Sto-Maltus. I have no interest in turning Maltus into a binary planetary system."

"And she'd block your light."

"Mm, yes. Can she manage ninety degrees to the system orbital plane?"

"Yes, she can."

"Good show. Try not to hit anything important on your way in."

"How is Clarissi Dox's recruitment effort going?"

"Oh, he's had several volunteers from amongst his fellow prisoners. I'm not sure how compatible they would be with orange power rings, but they'll be useful additions to either the Darkstars or whatever he decides to call his fleet."

"I'll talk to them once Mother of Mercy has parked. Anything from the Darkstars?"

"Several possibles, although I have a sneaking suspicion that your preferred recruitment criteria may be a little different to the ones we've been using."

It wouldn't surprise me.

"Do you have anyone else you want to shanghai into our service, or do you intend to make yourself available for teaching now?"

"I have a few people in mind, but I think that doing some assessment work would be a worthwhile use of my time now." Before you people do anything too crazy.

"I suppose that it's hard to top a planet."

"That too."

"I'll expect you when I see you, then. Hinon out."

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th August
09:23 GMT

The Admiral in the strange looking uniform of blue with gold decoration of the Crown Imperium raises a fluted glass in a toast. "To a truly satisfying campaign."

I nod to his as I raise my own in return. "To new allies."

The stuff in the glass isn't wine. It actually tastes vaguely minty, but it serves the same high-class social lubricant function as wine does on Earth. From the fact that there are several other glasses on the sideboard I'm going to assume that I wasn't the only person invited and from the lack of serving staff it seems likely that what he wants to discuss isn't for the ears of the lowlies. Oh, he wouldn't put it in exactly those terms, -not that 'lower orders' is much better- but the Crown Imperium is quite open about its aristocratic form of government.

"My other guests will be arriving shortly, but I thought that there were one or two things we should discuss between ourselves first."

Somewhere below us the Gordanian clans are on the receiving end of a hundred and fifty very angry Orange Lanterns, as well as hundreds of thousands of Imperial Marines and a lesser but still quite determined complement from the Karnans. Fleet operations were decisively concluded in our favour hours ago, but I think my fellow commanders and I wanted to remain 'on station' just in case anything demanded our immediate attention.

I nod politely. "Certainly." I'm not surprised. The Crown Imperium is the only stellar nation of any real size in this region of space. Certainly, it's the only one that never 'came to terms' with the various outlaw groups. And now that it's pretty much inevitable that we'll win here, it's only natural that they're looking to the future in which one of their near-neighbours is an Apokoliptian with a Lantern Corps under his command. I'm willing to do quite a lot to keep them on-side, as long as they don't get stupid about it.

"I understand that you've planted your standard on Tamaran. A curious choice, if you don't mind me saying so?"

"Tamaran was the only Vegan stellar state that fought the Citadel until they could fight no more. I see in them the potential for great things."

"The Karnans did something similar."

I smile. "The Karnans' reaction to the Gordanian uprising was probably more rational, but it was far less heroic. And it contained no real prospect of ultimate victory."

"And yet, here we are. The Karnans have a fleet-"

A mildly upgraded but far smaller fleet than the one the Gordanians destroyed during their uprising.

"-and Tamaran doesn't have an industrial base that can't be written off as a rounding error."

I frown. "Admiral, that's simply not true."

"Oh? Since when? Our intelligence reports are reasonably up to date."

"Since yesterday. We relieved the Branx of their shipyards and asteroid mining facilities. It will take a while to bring them up to full speed, but Tamaran currently has the largest shipyards in the region. Not-" I tilt my glass his way. "-quite so large as those of Kranaltine, of course. But there's always room to expand."

Euphorian experts plus G-Gnomes aren't an immediate fix, but they'll get the job done far faster than the figure Admiral Oswin is now using in his mental calculations. Simply occupying Vega wasn't really a possibility for them; too much space, too many threats, not enough ships. But I imagine they'd be quite happy to have a puppet Karnan state as the dominant force in the region's politics. Heh. I'd assumed that Euphorix would be more of a problem. I'd prepared for that. Proxy influence fights weren't something that it had occurred to me might be a problem.

"Ah." Admiral Oswin nods. "That's one residual problem dealt with, then. Have you given any thought to the Psions?"

"I'm trying to work out a feasible technique for neutralising them that doesn't result in us killing them all. But… I don't see any need to hurry. It would be more in character for them to wait for things to stabilise than for them to take precipitous action."

He nods again. "Our analysts agree. I assume that you have no objections to coordinating on the problem?"

I shake my head. "Not at all. Though I should be clear: the Wombworld isn't Karna. There's no prospect at all of a successful occupation, and no obvious value in making the attempt."

"I'm in no hurry to throw the lives of my marines away attempting to take it by storm. Fleet action, do you think?"

"Combined action. My Lanterns should be able to take out their anti-ship defences if you don't mind bombarding the place."

"I would be delighted to." He drains the remainder of his glass and pours himself a second before raising the decanter interrogatively at me.

I extend my near-empty glass. "Thank you."

"How much thought have you given to the aftermath of the campaign?"

"That's where I've put most of my thought. I intend to create a resurgence of Tamaranean power, and have the resulting stellar nation secure, pacify and civilise this region. I will not allow Vega to continue to be a safe harbour for pirates and slavers."

"And the area outside Vega?"

"We don't want that to be a haven for pirates either. But… Tamaran is reindustrialising, and I have only so many Lanterns. If you wish to keep the peace there yourselves, be my guest. Tamaran can only benefit from having civilised nations as neighbours and allies."

"And Karna? We have a certain.. relationship with its people."

"I don't intend to force them into anything, certainly not violent conquest. My intent is for them to gradually slip into Tamaran's sphere of influence, but if they don't…" I shrug. "Then they don't. It will be far more useful to maintain a friendly relationship with them than it would be to have a world of vengeful serfs. I doubt that the Tamaraneans would tolerate me trying to do to someone else what was done to them even if I wanted to. Which I don't."

"I'm pleased to hear it. I will of course convey your words to the Empress, but I'm not hearing anything that is against the Imperium's fundamental interests."

I wonder if this was how Stalin felt during the Fourth Moscow Conference?

"As we say on Apokolips, 'it's nice not to have to shoot your ally in the back immediately after finishing off your mutual enemy'."

He looks a little concerned at that, but I make a point of sniggering and he seems to understand that it was a joke. "Speaking.. of.. 'Apokolips', I was wondering-?"

The door on the far side of the room opens and a blonde Karaltinian man in a blue side-buttoning coat with a solidly yellow coloured five pointed star on the chest enters the room. There are a pair of yellow goggles holding back his fringe and his.. trousers are blue jodhpurs. The long shepherd's crook he carries in his right hand makes the identification easy enough, but I'm still a little curious…

He nods to me. "Lantern Gravyen."

"Prince Gavyn. Forgive me, but I thought that you were dead? Something about being pushed out of an airlock?"

He nods, a wry smile on his lips. "Not quite. I narrowly dodged the execution attempt and then I hid under the 'Starman' identity for years. But you can only save an Empire so many times before they feel obligated to pardon you."

I nod. "I know that feeling." Admiral Oswin passes his prince a glass and the three of us raise them slightly in a non-toast before taking a sip. "Who else are we expecting?"

"The Supreme Commander Gaharrugh of the Karna delegation, your princesses of course, and Queen Kalista and Sir Pren of the Omega Men."

I affect a blank expression. "The who?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th August
09:57 GMT

"…understand why you ask, but it doesn't really work like that on Apokolips."

Supreme Commander Gaharrugh's fur is mottled brown and dull orange, and he's wearing what appears to be a slightly modified -Karnanised, perhaps- version of the Imperial Navy's light body armour. Though for some reason his feet are bare, his claws tucked safely away to avoid poking holes in the carpet. He was a little surprised by my physical size -I imagine that he'd gotten used to generally being the largest person in the room- and started sizing me up almost immediately.

Queen Kalista smiles in a politely inquisitive manner. "Then how does it work?"

She's wearing a highly impractical purple, mauve and white dress that appears to be trying to conceal exactly how she's changed physically in the long years of conflict. She's certainly lost body fat; the life of a paramilitary space outlaw not precisely being conducive to regular quality meals. My ring scan shows me that there are minor scars across her body, from injuries that would have been simple to fix by most local standards. The Omega Men have to ration their medical apparatus. She's also put on more muscles, in a ropey marathon runner sort of way. I also feel the tug of very weak arcane probes coming from her as she tries to work out what the heck I am.

"You get what you grab. You keep what you can hold on to… Or at least, that you can convince others that you could hold onto if they chose to question the matter. I am the natural son of Darkseid, and as far as I know the youngest he's acknowledged. Since Father is ageless and immensely powerful, there is no point to having a formal line of succession. Politically, we have whatever power we are gifted by him; that is to say, essentially none."

The orange-haired man sitting at her right raises his eyebrows slightly. "You don't seem to be doing too badly?"

Sir Pren is wearing a slightly battered but well maintained suit of black and silver light armour, a suit he probably brought with him when he left Euphorix. He sent a brief mental probe my way when he first arrived. Quashing it presented no difficulty; he's far weaker than Chester or Lynne.

"We're not on Apokolips. Heck, I left so that I would get opportunities like this that I couldn't at home."

Admiral Oswin seems slightly pensive. "So you don't actually hold any sort of title at all?"

I shake my head. "None of us do. My eldest brother, Kalibak, Father's son by his first wife, has no title. Father's second son Orion, by his second wife Tigra, similarly has no title. My foster-brother Scott, no title. Father's chief aide DeSaad, no title." I shrug. "I think the only person who still has one is Uncle Drax, whose title 'prince' was granted by my grandmother mostly to irritate Father. But, please." I smile. "Apokolips is a very long way from Vega, and our social customs will have very little impact on events here."

I most sincerely hope.

Admiral Oswin face shrugs. "I.. merely wish to be sure that you have the authority to negotiate. I'm.. not entirely accustomed to.. negotiating with…"

"HahHAHA!" I grin at his discomfort. "You think I'm a Lowlie? Oh, that's marvellous."

Prince Gavyn leans forward slightly, his right hand slightly raised as a signal that the Admiral should back off. "We're simply curious about your affidavits. Have you been given the authority to negotiate for Tamaran?"

I shrug. "The princesses will negotiate for Tamaran. And anyway, what authority does Queen Kalista have?"

"Ah?" Prince Gavyn glances at her while she just frowns. "She's the queen?"

"Yes, but she doesn't rule the planet. Never has. Not that Euphorix played any role in this fight. And I think she and Sir Pren have perhaps ten fighters between them?" I shrug. "I don't really understand why they're included."

Sir Pren's jaw hardens. "We're included because we've been fighting against the Citadel for over a decade. We've fought and bled for a Vega free of their kind."

"Good going. My people have been fighting them for nearly two days." I hold out my left hand and generate a construct of the remains of Citadel Complex. "I think I know which of us has achieved something worth talking about."

"You'll notice that the Citadel's pirate allies were largely destroyed before you arrived?"

"Yes, but that was-." My goodness. "That.. mess on Rashashoon was you? Have you any idea.. how many civilians were caught in the crossfire? And not just in Raggashoon, out in pirate-controlled territory? They were carrying out orbital bombardments on civilian-inhabited areas to kill off other groups." I… "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking 'this is the only way to get rid of the people who have turned Vega into the mess it is today'. Any col-."

"I have a Lantern Corps. It would have taken us two days, maximum, to destroy any group that wasn't prepared to straighten out-."

Admiral Oswin makes a face as if he's just tasted something horribly bitter. "You'd give those animals a pardon?"

"Some, certainly. Any without specific obscenities to their names. At this point-."

"Princess." Queen Kalista turns to Koriand'r. "Are you truly prepared to let this man speak for you?"

Koriand'r scowls. "I am no more impressed by mass civilian deaths than Grayven is. And I will remind you that it was your recruitment of our brother that resulted in the Citadel revenging themselves upon us. I have a most personal understanding of the accidental side effects of your campaign."

I lean back smugly. "And I'm not convinced that Duke Alonzo would be alright with you claiming to speak for Euphorix. He does rather control the government."

"This is irrelevant." That's the first thing Supreme Commander Gaharrugh's said this whole meeting. I was beginning to think that he was either mute or so concerned that the Imperium would withdraw their support that he didn't dare speak up. "Once our enemies are dead you can argue over who speaks for whom." He jabs one of the control buttons on the table's hologram projector, calling up an image of Karna. Force concentrations, areas controlled and areas contested and remaining strongholds. "We haven't won control of Karna yet."

Of course, with Taghurrhu's following amongst younger Karnans his position isn't all that secure either. And depending on how big an impression Michael makes…

I point at the representation of the prison camps. "Why are we doing that? There are millions of Gordanians down there and we've chased off or destroyed all of their starships."

Gaharrugh nods. "What do you suggest?"

"Just disarm them and leave them to their own devices. Your people and mine can defend any Karnan settlements that need it. We can start processing them for resettlement or exile based on clan membership once the fighting is over."

Gaharrugh raises his upper left lip slightly, a mild baring of the teeth to indicate hostility to the idea. "'Exile'? You want to exile the murderers and slavers? My people have been brutalised by these monsters-."

Komand'r rolls her eyes. "Yours are hardly the only people to have suffered under the Gordanians. And while we will be punishing those in controlling positions in the Tearing Bite clan, we have no interest in slaying every member."

Koriand'r nods. "This is not merely about our side winning over the Citadel and its allies. We must make our victory about instituting a civilised state of relations between Vega's peoples. And in some cases that will mean staying our hand, no matter how enraged we are. I refuse to stoop to the Citadel's level."

Gaharrugh looks around, but it doesn't look like any of the others are prepared to vocalise any support they might be feeling. He glowers slightly, then nods. "Anyone not on our hit list can go for now. Next point. I'm getting reports of one of my people employing some sort of grey alien mercenaries-."

"Oh, those are mine. Michael's familiar with hush tube combat, I felt that paving our way with them while I attacked the Citadel made sense."

"'Michael'?"

I generate a construct image of him. "Michael Tawny. I thought a leader who physically resembled a Karnan would fit it better. He's the reason why their fleet was in such disarray when we arrived."

"Fine. I'll trust you to control him." I nod. "Next item. If we're not killing them all, what are we doing about reparations?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

Authority

21st August
18:29 GMT

Ms Mallor looks down at me as I sit cross-legged on the roof of the plain structure built to contain the Orange Central Power Battery. She's one of the political prisoners we liberated from Starlag along with Vril Dox, her exotic abilities putting her on the Dominators' 'to be researched' list.

"I understand that I am not to be included in your tuition session."

"That is correct."

"Why? Do you think that I am incapable of focusing my wants? Or that I would be driven insane as that creature in your cells has been?"

Her desires are a rather harmless mix of loyalty-affirmation with regards to her civilisation and a drive for… Interestingly, not revenge against the Dominion but she definitely wants them pushed back. Talok VIII fell under the Dominion's expanded sphere of influence some time ago, but they only heard about her comparatively recently. She knows that she's the only reason the Dominion bothered threatening her world and that they'd leave it alone once she was in their custody. That's why she surrendered herself rather than try fighting it out or running. Admirable behaviour.

"No."

Unfortunately, it makes her unsuitable for an orange ring. At least at this stage.

"Then why? Dox said that he had given you final refusal on his proposed candidates?"

"He has. But my selection criteria are quite specific." I open my eyes and look up at her. She's wearing a figure hugging blue/black body stocking thing. I didn't realise that look was popular outside of Earth-native superpeople. "Would you like some tea?"

"Tea?"

"It's a drink from my homeworld, made by putting dried leaves-."

"I know what tea is, I just don't understand why you're offering it to me."

"I don't want you to think that I harbour some sort of personal dislike for you. I want this to be a discussion rather than a confrontation. So: I offer you tea."

"Very well…" She hesitates for a moment as I wave my right hand vaguely to my right and bring a teapot and two china cups in the traditional style: white with blue artwork. "Why do you consider me inadequate?"

"I don't. Sugar?"

A mild frown. "No."

"Milk?"

She pulls a face. "I'm an adult. I don't drink milk."

I won't ask about lemon. I create a construct strainer and place it over the first cup, then pick up the teapot and begin pouring.

"You understand that the Orange Lantern Corps we're building is primarily designed to fight the Reach?"

"Yes."

"Orange ring users are unavoidably driven to satisfy their desires. You might well intellectually know that, when evaluated dispassionately, the Reach are worse than the Dominion. But the Dominion matters to you in a personal way which the Reach doesn't." Cup filled adequately, I stop pouring and move the strainer to the second cup. "Whatever you have decided that you should accept, it is the Dominion whom you truly wish to fight. As such, your effectiveness as an Orange Lantern would be impaired in the fights we are actually going to engage in. And that's assuming that you didn't suffer from the mind-altering effects of the orange light, and simply decide to go after the Dominion on your own initiative."

"I'm not so easily distracted." I put the teapot down, disintegrate the tea leaves in the strainer and then dismiss the strainer, and pass her a cup.

"That doesn't help. Forcing yourself to concentrate on something is a green light thing. Do it too much while wearing an orange ring and your ring would turn itself off. Given your other abilities, you might survive losing your environmental shield while in space, but it would significantly reduce your effectiveness."

She inclines her head slightly as she raises the cup to her face and sniffs it. Finding the smell not too repulsive, she tentatively takes a sip just to humour me and then puts the cup straight down again. "I understand that, but I believe that after training with other Lanterns and Darkstars I would come to see them as much as my people as I do other members of my species. And if I were exposed to the Reach's wrongdoings, I would come to loathe them just as much as they do."

I nod. "Quite possibly. That's how I learned to focus the orange light to serve my team mates' needs." I pick up my cup and take a mouthful. I don't actually.. like tea, but as a non-narcotic social tool it is quite useful.

"Then why-?"

I hold up my right hand to stop her, then swallow. "Because I haven't ever taught a proper class before. With Princess Komand'r and Princess Koriand'r I could afford to give them personal attention at all times. Here, I'm going to have to create a training program that others can carry out without my immediate supervision. That significantly magnifies the risk. So I don't want to take anyone who doesn't have the ideal psychological characteristics. In other circumstances, when I have a better idea about what I'm doing, I might consider you. But not for the first batch."

She looks down as she considers my answer, then reluctantly nods. "What other circumstances?"

"When Hinon's had a chance to study what happens when orange power rings interact with someone who has a link to the Shadowlands."

A thin wisp of tenebrous mist manifests around her, parts of her body suddenly looking as if they were drawn in place using a thick black pen. "What do you know of the Shadowlands?"

"That it's the former resting place of the Great Darkness, and is now a source of considerable arcane might as well as being inhabited by some rather disturbing creatures. An acquaintance of mine by the name of Richard Swift draws his power from there as well, and a handful of other individuals have abilities that are sufficiently similar that they may well come from there as well."

"The Great Darkness. That is what your people call the Father of Shadows?"

"It's… Likely that we're talking about the same being."

"When I was younger, I felt its rising. Ever since then, I've been able to control shadows, move them and make them physical. I've never met anyone else who could say the same. Is that how it was on your world?"

"I don't.. know for certain. For most of them the time line is possible. Except the Shade and Simon Culp, who got theirs about a hundred and eight years ago. When the Great Darkness would still have been there." Huh. Hadn't considered that part before. "Which is a little disturbing, now that I think about it. Though it might explain why they're so much more powerful than all of the others."

"They..?"

"But anyway, I hope that you consider staying on anyway. You might get offered a power ring eventually, and even if you don't I'm sure that the Darkstars would love to have someone with your abilities."

"Will you take me with you?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I've never met someone else with my abilities before. When you return to your homeworld, will you take me with you?"

Um. No reason not to, I suppose. "Alright, yes. Though I'll warn you now that I don't know how long it will be until that happens." She nods. "Is there anything else you want to ask?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st August
19:13 GMT

I smile at the purple-robed figure making his way slowly towards me down the corridor. "Are you all going to do this?"

The green tendrils poking out of his hood retract as he gets within convenient talking distance, his movement forward changing from a steady flow to the jerkier movements of a legged humanoid. He raises his arms, then uses the now brown-orange skinned hands poking out to push back his hood and reveal his face. I'm going to assume that this is the face he uses when dealing with humanoids who set store by such things as facial expression.

"Are all of us going to do what?"

"Ask me why I didn't select you for an orange ring?"

"I had not intended to. Though if you would like to furnish me with a reason..?"

"Dox trusts you. He needs you at your most mentally stable, because you're the only one of us who knows him well enough to know if he's becoming unstable. Your ability to perform that role would be significantly impeded if you put on a ring yourself."

"A perfectly sensible reason. I'm.. not familiar with your species."

"And I'm happy to take your word on that."

"I said that in an attempt to encourage you to tell me about them, but now I'm curious. Why did you respond like that?"

"I don't hold the crimes of a group against their entire species. My homeworld has been visited by Durlans in the past and as far as we've been able to tell a few are still there. The.. Human government that's mostly been dealing with their attacks showed me a few pictures of what happens when a Durlan infiltrator sets off a metamorphic bomb in a small town on market day… It gave a.. particularly bad impression."

"Metamorphic weapons? Are you certain?"

I generate a construct image of the results, melting corpses dissolving into soup while others show clear signs of partial transmutation. "The only survivor has skin made of iron plates, so, yes."

"That.. surprises me. Durla is not a technologically sophisticated world. I was abducted by Coluan robots and I had assumed that I was the only member of my species currently alive to have ventured off-world."

"They seemed pretty technologically sophisticated." I generate a construct of the Dragonwing. "This ship was captured from them and partially reverse engineered. Are you sure-?"

"Blood of the Ancients." His voice sounds astonished, but his face doesn't change expression. Curious. "No, I… Long ago, our history tells us that we had such technology. Then there was an event we know as the Six Minute War."

"An apocalyptic war."

He nods. "Some of our eldest still retain the memories of the event, passed from one Ancient to the next. I never had access to them, but supposedly our forebears fought one another with total ferocity. They started with nanotech infections such as those you describe and eventually escalated into an all-out fission exchange. Lingering radioactive material and metamorphic weaponry destroyed the civilisation we had at that time, and has prevented us rebuilding ever since. Certainly, none of us possess the technological capacity today."

"Someone does."

"I'm afraid that if you wanted to learn more you would have to travel to Durla and consult the Ancients. Or track down one of the Durlans you say is on your world."

"If tracking them down were simple, they'd have been killed already." Still. Worth mentioning to the Chinese that I can put them in contact with the government of Durla. "Are there other examples of your people's advanced technology around the place?"

"Not to my knowledge. I had hoped to access the Controllers' archives while I am here, but it seems that they have had little interest in the region of space in which my world resides. I would be very interested in any such technology you felt able to share."

"I.. doubt very much that the Chinese would be willing to-"

"Hey, you!"

"-share what they've learned, but I doubt that it will hurt-"

"I'm talking to you!"

"-to ask." I turn around. "Mister Bek, how may I be of service?"

Though -aside from hair only a Saiyan could love- he could easily pass as Human, Mister Bek actually originates from Cairn. He didn't express any interest in going back so I'm assuming that he's here about the induction session that he hasn't been invited to. A little way behind him a tanned… I want to say 'woman', but her medical scans say that her reproductive equipment is variable in configuration and she only has mammaries at the moment due to something the Dominators were feeding her while trying to work out how she works.

"You can give me an orange power ring, is what you can do."

"Mister Bek, what would you do with an orange power ring?"

"Turn Cairn into a decent place to live!"

"Mister Bek, I'm afraid that while I realise that the Dominion deserves a bloody nose-."

"I'm not talking about them. I understand that you can't fight the Reach and the Dominion at the same time-."

"Actually, we don't even have the equipment to fight the Reach on its own at the moment. Dox is working on scaling up-."

He shakes his head and waves his hands. "Fine, I'm not interested in that. One man with a power ring could easily decapitate the syndicates of Cairn and start turning it back into a civilised world. It wouldn't be easy and the Dominion aren't going anywhere, but life could be made a lot better by a Lantern."

Sounds plausible. "Mister Bek, we're focusing our resources on getting Lanterns available to fight the Reach at the moment. If you'd like to write up a detailed proposal for the post-coup political and economic models you'd use to transform Cairn's society, I promise you that I'll give the plan due consideration. I hope to be able to widen the variety of people who we can give rings to but at the moment it's just not practical."

"Alright." He nods, appearing to calm down a bit. "That's reasonable. But why didn't you say that when I got here?"

"Because Koriand'r brought you here at Dox's request and I.. rather assumed that he was dealing with you."

He smiles faintly. "What, you gave Dox access to all the information he could want and you thought he'd do something other than go through it as fast as he could?"

Ah. "Then, I apologise for my oversight. Do you need anything from me now?"

"No, the Darkstars are giving us access to their offices." He nods again and turns away. "I'll get started on that proposal."

"I'll look forward to receiving it." He heads back down the corridor, his companion remaining where she is. "Do you want a ring as well?"

"No. I'm already booked in for my Darkstar induction."

"Did Dox-?"

"I got tired of waiting for him. I was coming to check that he was still alive in there."

I look at the Durlan, who shrugs.

"Let's find out together."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st August
19:19 GMT

"Dox..?" I step over the threshold of his quarters somewhat cautiously, the Durlan just behind me. "Are you decent?"

Dox finally settled on somewhere to live while I was away meeting up with Lantern Mother of Mercy. Space.. isn't exactly at a premium on Maltus. The planet's population is around ten billion, but Clickers like living in close proximity to one another. And preferably underground. Plus, Maltus is pretty close to post-scarcity. As a result, there isn't the accommodation squeeze that there is in the centre of large cities on Earth. Quarters can be more or less whatever size you want, if you can find someone to build it. And if you've got a Controller or a power ring on hand, that requirement can be bypassed fairly easily.

I was slightly curious as to what Dox's quarters would be like. My first guess was something like one of those Japanese pod-things. With some sort of teleportation system for food and waste materials. Coluans usually eat relatively normal food rather than the nutribars usually associated with logic-focused high-IQ species, but Dox himself wasn't allowed anything remotely resembling normal amenities growing up and I thought that he might value the pure efficiency of the system.

Turns out that I was completely wrong. He's gone for an open plan living/dining area that's almost offensively normal. Rugs and synthetic wood cover the floor, there's a holopit slightly off from the centre of the room and portraits of some people who are probably quite famous on Colu but who I've never heard of at intervals on the far wall. Bookshelves line the walls near the comfy chairs on one side… Books? Wasn't expecting that at all. There's even… Is that music?

"The chance of him being indecent is exceedingly small."

I take a few small steps inside, still taking the place in. "That was really more intended to be an audible indicator that we were here rather than a suggestion that he put clothes on." I stop walking and frown at him. "Does this place seem like him to you?"

"A shell of normalcy which he uses to conceal himself but does not himself inhabit? Yes."

Ah. Yes, that sounds more like what I'd expected.

"Sorry, with one thing and another I never thought to ask you your name."

"I am not wholly averse to being called 'Brande'."

"W-? Oh, do Durlans use non-sonic personal identifiers or something?"

"There is a certain scent component. But the humanoid vocal system I have become accustomed to using makes it difficult to pronounce the sonic components. And Brande is close enough."

"As you wish."

So where's Dox hiding? He could have teleported out, but it's not like we're keeping him prisoner here. If he wanted to leave he could just ask for a lift, I'm reasonably sure that one of the Controllers would have reacted if he built an interstellar teleporter. I could scan for him, but that does seem to be somewhat rude. The kitchen comes off the dining area and I can see that he isn't there. Bathroom's through there, which just leaves…

"Dox, I wasn't joking! If you're.. occupied, just say so!"

Mister Brande walks past me and reaches out to take hold of the bedroom door. There's a slight fuzz in the air as a security field detects him and decides not to incinerate him just yet. He ignores it and reaches for the door handle, taking a firm grip on the lever and waiting for a moment as the mechanisms contained therein perform another round of checks. No.. similar device exists on any other opening in the apartment. Rather lends credence to Mister Brande's assumption.

"Vril, are you-? Ah."

Mister Brande steps aside to allow me to enter. Ah, yes this is more like it. Vril himself is strapped to some sort of chair/bed thing, apparently unaware of the world around him. The device strapped to his forehead-. Ah, a Coluan electro-telepathy transmitter. He's having the computer feed data directly into his brain. Reasonably predictaoh come on!

His power rings, both the second hand Larfleeze model I gave him after we first met and Hinon's first new generation model are sitting entirely unused on a workbench surrounded by analytical devices. Quite a bit more complex than what the Controllers use; they can do most of that sort of thing with their own innate abilities. His personal lantern is a little further along, also unused. Okay, I can understand him being reluctant to use them but I'd have thought that he'd have-.

"What is it?"

Dox's eyes sort of flicker as the lights on his headband twinkle and fade.

"Nearly time for our first training session."

He frowns slightly, then the bonds around his wrists unfasten and he reaches up with his right hand to remove the headband. "And you felt the need to inform me in person because..?"

"The psychological wellbeing of members of the Corps is my responsibility."

"I don't require your assist-" Mister Brande moves around behind him to check his equipment. "-ance. I have a great deal of data to absorb and a finite amount of time in which to do it. If there is nothing else..?"

"Clarissi Dox. I felt that you might like to participate in the first training session. While I realise that you can absorb new information far faster than the rest of us can, the psychological effects of orange light use are something-."

"Something that might lead to me baking a giant cake?"

I tilt my head back slightly to look at the ceiling. One time! "It might help to learn how your own thoughts are likely to be altered in a safe location before using it in the field."

He swivels where he's sitting, then reaches down to pull his boots on. Not looking at me. "Are you telling me that I am obliged to?"

"No. Though I would advise you to avoid using them at all unless you get some training from me. If you don't want to take part in the same session as the rest of the new intake -and for team building purposes I really think that you should- then we can do it in private later. Or…" I spread out my hands. "Not at all. You're still the best person for the job, even without a ring of your own."

Both boots on, he looks up at me. "Your own reports indicated dozens of times when your judgement was compromised by your use of-."

Mister Brande looks up from the device. "And you think that using this device with a data input rate eight times higher than normal will not produce similar results?"

Dox's face twitches. "I've used higher rates before, and for longer. The Coluan 'average' is well below what is safe for me."

Time to use the orange light…

"Remind me: are you a perfect clone of Vril Dox the First, or did he make any changes?"

He glowers at me. "If you're asking that question then you clearly know the answer. I am genetically identical. However, he altered the conditions in which I gestated to produce… Suboptimal results. I was less intelligent than he was while he was still an organic Coluan. Still far more intelligent than everyone else, and more than up to the task I have here."

"Where I'm from… There's a certain… Physicality, expected of, uh… 'Freelance law enforcement officials'. Pretty much the first thing I did with my ring -and entirely without specific intent- was turn myself from a slightly pudgy office worker into an Adonis. I think… It's hard for me to tell, but I think I've become more mentally acute as well. Certainly, my memory is eidetic now."

Dox gets it. From his expression I think that he got it as soon as I started speaking, though he generously gave me the courtesy of allowing me to finish.

"I could alter myself."

"It's more that the ring would unavoidably alter you to better reflect your idealised self-concept." I smile, raise my eyebrows slightly and then look away. "I'm assuming that you know quite a lot about Coluan physiology..?"

His body stills and his eyes unfocus slightly, pupils microsaccading as he considers the matter, then gets up and walks towards the rings-.

"Ah ah." I open both hands and call his rings to me. That earns me a scowl. "There's a tradition to it. Everyone I've given rings to gets the same treatment. It might not seem important to you-."

"Just get on with it."

"Very well." I hold out my hands palms up with a ring on each. "Vril Dox of Colu, you want to establish a just order in an unjust and disorderly universe. And I want you for the Orange Lantern Corps. Take my rings."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st August
20:43 GMT

I raise my right arm and wave as my new recruits fly towards me. Koranys is a newly terraformed world on the far side of Maltus from the Reach border. Settlement has already started on the continents to the north and west of us, and the lingering liveliness of the atmosphere results in frequent storms with their associated torrential downpours.

Lantern K-K'p dives, using a gravity impeller construct to accelerate towards the ground and then to arrest his motion just before impact. He's a Clicker and since his sex is 'lesser C' I suppose that 'he' isn't strictly accurate. Ah, we're both using translators. I can't help that my language doesn't have a word for what he is. There are a series of visible scars along the left side of his carapace from where in his previous occupation as a Darkstar he took several hits from Reach soldier carried plasma weapons and had to be stuck back together. When he first put on his ring it converted the cybernetics beneath back into flesh but left the visible damage. I guess he wanted to keep the memento. He also usually wears his Darkstar exomantle, but for this exercise I asked him and the others to leave their armour and backup weapons in subspace.

"How did you get so far ahead of us?"

I flick my left hand out to the side, connecting in the whole class. Including the ones who are only just entering the upper atmosphere. "As with anything else you use it for, the speed of your ring-based faster than light travel is dependent on your ability to focus your desires. I'm teaching you because I'm very good at focusing my desires." Three concentric spinning circles appear floating over my left hand.

"I thought that we did not need to focus on precisely what we were doing. Was I mistaken?"

"No, but you do need to focus on the outcome. Either the fact that you want to get somewhere or what you want to achieve once you're there."

Another Clicker flies down toward our position. Lantern R-K'rr is a neutral Clicker and a former Darkstar uplift coordinator. His job was to help worlds that decided to resist the Reach to improve their defensive abilities as fast as possible. While he tested well for ring-compatibility, I'm a little concerned that his particular skill set isn't exactly what we want at this stage. Dox wants him to visit worlds on the periphery and help with their shipyard upgrades, but I'm concerned about how much harder that will make keeping track of his mental condition.

"Teacher, why are we here? Why do we not practice on the new world you captured from Mongul?"

"We're here because at the moment the entire surface of Ater Clementia is covered with Lantern Mother of Mercy's body. And while she doesn't exactly feel pain, I don't think we should be shooting holes in each other's bodies during our induction session." Sadly, that made it… Not impossible but certainly impractical for her to participate in the training session. Currently one of Hinon's deputies is going over her in an attempt to learn how she works. It turns out that the Controllers haven't encountered anything quite like her before. Though I do mean 'quite', they've encountered any number of things which were sort of like her. "And her atmosphere isn't something most of us could breathe."

Lantern K-K'p and Lantern R-K'rr glance at one another. I've noticed that Clickers have some sort of game they play with the direction their rearmost eyes look at, and the two of them have a quick round. R-K'rr loses and then lands before coiling slightly into the Clicker 'attention' pose. "Would our environmental shields not prevent that being a problem?"

"Lantern R-K'rr, you already have more space combat experience than me. What I'm going to teach you is how to maintain your focus, how to maintain your ability to think clearly while using the orange light and how to avoid becoming distracted by other emotions. Because something I've observed from other Lanterns is that if you focus on the wrong emotion, your environmental shield goes as well."

"I understand, te-."

BANG!

There's a huge explosion a short distance behind me, accompanied by a blinding burst of light. I've already brought up construct armour and a railgun, and I note that K-K'p has generated a basic construct barrier. Well done that Clicker.

The glow stabilises a moment later into a glowing portal, somewhat like the boom tubes which New Gods use. The difference is that the surrounding circle of light looks more.. ferocious, crackling and flaring and wobblingoh dear.

My armour appears from subspace, Sword of the Fallen transferring from my field uniform to my greaves. "That's a boom tube, armour now."

K-K'p's exomantle appears immediately, while R-K'rr takes a moment to achieve the necessary level of focus. Both point their masers at the portal rather than generating construct weapons, but I'll excuse that for now. They've only really had a few practice sessions with their rings before this, and they're trained to use exomantles.

"If you can spare the concentration, have your rings feed you data on New Gods, Apokolips and New Genesis." Though I've got no idea why either might come here. "If they're from Apokolips, shoot first. If they're from New Genesis, shoot second."

"Acknowledged." / "I obey!"

And then Dox steps through and I feel like an idiot. Strands from his ring feed back into the tube, visibly forcing it to stay open and more or less stable. He's wearing a variation on what I vaguely remember his uniform from L.E.G.I.O.N. to look like, with an orange sigil replacing the clenched-fist-with-lightning-shining-through emblem of that butterflied agency. He looks at us for a moment and then turns back to his portal, exhaling in frustration. "It appears that I need more experimental data before I perfect ring-based gravitonic hyperinflation."

He retracts his filaments and the boom tube undergoes a semi-controlled collapse, energy washing over us. Dox's personal force field flares slightly, and he idly looks at a construct monitor to find out exactly what's hitting him. My construct armour is mildly buffeted, while K-K'p's barrier is cracking and failing. Always use a learning opportunity.

I turn back to face him. "Do you want to be torn apart? If not, then I suggest that you focus on your need to remain whole."

"I obey."

A curved construct barrier appears behind the flat and failing barrier, which collapses entirely a moment later. The new one is brighter, energy being deflected around it. The local grass-substitute isn't going to be doing well out of this, but the isolated nature of our sparring ground is why we're doing this out here.

A moment passes and the boom tube finishes its semi-controlled collapse. Dox presses a few buttons on his arm-mounted construct control panel before returning his attention to the three of us. "Are we ready to begin?"

"Still waiting for the last four, sir." I look up. "Though-."

Lanterns Strata and Tarant slam into the ground. Tarant has kept his Darkstar flight suit, now with an orange sigil in the middle of the Darkstar starburst. Strata on the other hand is dressed a little more like Dox: loose black trousers and a black vest with the orange sigil on her chest.

To be honest, Tarant is far closer to what we're looking for at this stage than the others are. He wants the Reach destroyed and whatever's left of his civilisation restored to its pre-Reach state. But he's disciplined about it, never losing himself to the red light in any of the engagements he's fought in. Strata was the only prisoner to make the cut, and her motivations remind me of what Maddox said about Gregory Peck: she doesn't have any personal stake in the fight with the Reach but she's here because she recognises it as a good thing. Good power output, minimal chance of being distracted.

A moment later Koriand'r and Komand'r transition down to the planet's surface. They're only last because I asked them to keep an eye on the others as they travelled here. Not that they have much more experience, but what little they have means that they get the teaching assistant jobs for the moment.

"Thank you all for coming. Now let's get started."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st August
20:58 GMT

"…simplest level of attack construct is an energy pulse." I generate a target ten metres away. "Lantern Tarant, take a shot."

Tarant looks at the target for a moment, then raises his right fist. His ring is on the middle of his three fingers, and the general pose he's using is the one he used when firing his exomantle's masers. He focuses for a moment, then a blast of orange light flashes out. The bolt strikes the target dead centre, dissipating to no appreciable effect. He makes a quiet snort to himself before looking at me to see if I want him to try again.

"A shot from a Darkstar maser will -power source allowing- always strike with the same power. Power rings do not work like that. They are empathic weapons." I dismiss the target and replace it with a Reach soldier. "Try again."

He clenches his fist, the orange bolt he fires being noticeably brighter than his first effort. The result is some minor cracking on the construct soldier's surface.

"Lantern Tarant has fought the Reach for a considerable period of time. Certainly, he defaults to wanting their soldiers destroyed more easily than he does a series of concentric circles." I dismiss the soldier and generate a Beetle construct. "When I intervened on Urrigen, the Darkstar coterie had been in continuous combat for three days. It is perfectly natural to feel fear in combat, and the Darkstars there were controlling theirs as expected from professional soldiers. Except Lantern Tarant, who was barely feeling any at all. Unusual, considering how lethal Beetles are to Darkstars."

"I've killed Scarab Warriors before."

"Glad to hear it. Kill this one."

"Meat!"

The construct Beetle opens its wings and shapeshifts its arms, a shield forming on its left and a blade on its right. It zips through the air directly towards Tarant at full speed-.

And is caught in the twin beams blasting from Tarant's forearms. The construct Beetle cracks and crumbles to orange fragments before fading completely.

"Tarant could do that because he really really wants to destroy Reach Beetles, and because animating it made it seem more like the things that he actually wants to destroy." Tarant himself is still staring in the direction the construct was coming from, his arms still raised. "But it turns out that he wants to destroy them a little too much. Lantern Tarant."

He grunts. Eyes locked, environmental shield flaring, muscles tensed and… Yes, orange sigils glowing in his eyes.

"Lantern Tarant, what planet are you on?"

"I'm-." I watch as he shudders, his overwhelming drive to fight the Reach being undermined by his rational appreciation that this is a training exercise. "I'm.. fighting…" His environmental shield fades to its original level. "What was that?"

"That was your brain on the orange light. You gave that shot your all?"

"Y-yeah."

His environmental shield cuts off for a moment as his fear of losing control like that causes yellow light interference.

"Lantern Tarant, remove your ring and take a moment to collect yourself."

"Yes sir." His hands shake slightly as he gingerly grasps his ring with the fingers of his left hand and pulls it free.

"And that's the other reason we're doing this somewhere with a breathable atmosphere." Tarant stares at his ring for a moment and then stows it in one of the pouches on his uniform. "Everyone notice what Lantern Tarant's environmental shield was doing there?" Dox doesn't move, but the others all give me affirmative gestures appropriate to their physiology. "Years of warfare have left Lantern Tarant with a very strong desire to destroy the Reach. On that last shot he channelled all of it and was overwhelmed." Tarant trudges back to the group and sits down hard, not quite looking at anyone as he tries to work out what the heck just happened. "He became convinced that the Reach were about to attack. I'm not sure that he was even aware that the rest of us were still here." I raise my eyebrows. "Were you?"

"I…" He blinks, eyes still not focusing on us. "I wasn't… Thinking about you."

"This world is highly defended and the rest of us are more than capable of taking down anything short of a full Beetle strike force. And yet, his need to strike them down overwhelmed his rationality. One of the things you're all going to learn is what your own warning signs are."

Dox give me a shallow nod. "What are yours?"

I smile, flaring out my environmental shield as I rise into the air to better emphasise my point. "I don't have any. I have attained enlightenment. I have perfect unity with and awareness of my desires. Though I am.. no longer precisely the man I was before. This doesn't mean that I can do anything; I still have to actually want to do a thing and the mortal frame is only capable of wanting a thing so much. However, it has left me exceedingly powerful and mentally stable."

K-K'p wiggles his mandibles. "How do we attain such power?"

"No idea. I did it through months of meditation and self reflection, constant ring-usage while maintaining my humanitas, followed by merging with the Ophidian and managing to separate again. If you want to try working towards that, be my guest. I'd suggest leaving the advanced stuff until you've gotten the hang of the basics, but since the first steps are the basic training I'm giving you anyway…."

"Now, did you notice how Lantern Tarant's environmental shield shut down for a moment?" Another round of affirmatives. "His fear of what happened to him overwhelmed his personal desires. As such, his ring temporarily shut down because it could no longer connect him to the orange light. Needless to say, that happening in combat is very bad. And why you'll all be wearing spacesuits or armour when we start practising space combat."

I take a hologram projector out of subspace and activate it, displaying the sigils of each of the Lantern Corps… Or at least each of the colours.

"Those of you who have seen Green Lanterns will be familiar with the sigil in the centre. Green is the colour of willpower. Those who use it focus their minds on precisely what they want the ring to do in order to generate constructs. Doing the same yourselves will turn your rings off. To the left we have the sigil of the yellow light of fear. The only extant user of this colour is the Green Lanterns' former First Lantern, Thaal Sinestro. If you act with the intent of causing fear or are overwhelmed by fear yourself, your ring will turn off. On the right, the sigil of the blue light of hope. No one uses it. Feel too much hope and your ring will turn off. At mid-left, we have our own sigil. The orange light of avarice is what you will be trained to use. Focusing on it will allow you to fight. Focusing on it too much will drive you mad. Lantern Tarant got a mild flash of what it can be like. If you want to see a more extreme example, visit the Blue Cells and try talking to Larfleeze."

"Far left, we have the red light of rage and hate. You've all got cause to be angry, and several of you hate the Reach. That's fine in itself, but if you focus on those emotions during combat?"

I click my right thumb and forefinger and point at Strata.

"What happens?"

"Our rings will turn off."

"Quite." I nod. "Mid-right, we have the indigo sigil of compassion. Feel too compassionate? Your ring will turn off. Last but not least, the violet sigil of love. Used by the Zamarons. If you focus on love your ring will turn off."

I smile. "And the kicker is, remaining able to feel each of them is a vital component to you remaining sane. I have no interest in turning you into semi-guided weapons. I am creating a Lantern Corps of Lanterns. I will teach you to focus without becoming too narrowly focused, to feel without being overwhelmed by feeling and to fight and to not fight. And if it all goes wrong and we're forced to put you in the Blue Cells with Larfleeze I will do my best to restore you to sanity."

I look around the group. "Any questions before we move on?"