With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Story Only)

[Mr Zoat]

22nd August
16:18 GMT

"Ragnar, good to see you with us." I form cold gun constructs and transmit my targeting solutions to Guy. "You're on rearguard duty. Keep moving downwards at best speed, and otherwise do your best to kill anyone following us."

His head appears over my second ring, flickering and glitching as its ancient and primitive systems try to cope with his ersatz ring's transmissions. "This feels like fleeing."

"It may feel like fleeing but it's actually a tactical manoeuvre which brings us closer to our objective. Feel free to turn and face Lantern Duran once we're out over the Ash Plains."

Okay, the tunnel going downwards is sixty metres in diameter. It probably used to be used for spacecraft or missiles, but from the cargo lifts built into the sides I'm going to assume that it is now used mostly for transporting goods, supplies and personnel. Should I be surprised that the Qwardians don't have a teleportation system, or would that just be because if they can teleport from one point to another any potential attacker would have the same ability? This way, anyone who wants to get in has to either blast their way through miles of rock or breach a heavily fortified location.

I spin across the passageway as the first blasts from the automated defences fire, fat orange/yellow Kirby Dot impregnated beams of something firing up at me and mine. Shots are… Relative velocity… About half a second long, the guns' capacitors taking an appreciable amount of time to charge up between shots. I see Guy firing bolts of green energy at them… Still bolts, but at least he's not projecting them directly from his ring anymore. The guns have energy shielding… What kind, I wonder? I aim my cold guns at the ones he's already weakened and fire, even as I generate railguns to replace-.

Oh my goodness me, Guy just made a railgun. For a fraction of a second I'm so flabbergasted that I just blink. Yes, I gave him some ammunition for Christmas but I never actually thought that he'd use it in combat. Okay. I fire at the other turrets, crumbler rounds striking and disintegrating the… Plasma shields. Those we can deal with. The armoured cowling is made of the same stuff as the Thunderers' shields but rings are nothing if not precise instruments and the guns are fixed. Hitting the lightly armoured areas is no problem.

Flying downwards fast like this is actually quite an odd experience. I'm blasting towards a ground I can't see… Can't even detect, really. I mean, I got a reasonable map of the place from Guy so I know roughly how far down we're going but I'm very glad that my ring is making it so that my inner ear thinks I'm flying level-.

Dull green beams flash past me and score the sides of the tunnel.

"Ragnar, have-?"

"I checked the angle. I knew he would miss."

"If you're hard pressed, I can fire-."

"No! I have this!"

On his head be it. Duran doesn't appear able to fly faster than us, so the melee weapons he and Ragnar both favour are off the table. Energy bolt exchanges are largely ineffectual, with both of them able to absorb shots better than they can land them. There isn't.. really an easy way for me to assist Ragnar. Duran appears to have decided that the best approach is to keep Ragnar between him and us, and neither of them are dodging that much. I can't get a clear shot with a crumbler-.

Another volley from the tunnel guns fires upwards. One gets a glancing hit on my construct armour, abrading it but otherwise causing no damage. Guy isn't using armour, he's just maintaining an armoured plate in front of him and letting it fail as he takes hits. It's probably a lot easier for a Green Lantern to do it that way than making conventional armour. We both target the new guns and open fire, blowing them apart in a hail of railgun rounds, energy pulses and cold beams. The wrecked guns from our initial exchange flash past me-.

The guns further down open fire, this time with light speed weapons. I increase the reflectivity of my construct armour in response, causing the lasers to splash off harmlessly. A pink-agh-.

Ugh. I shove off the wall, recreate my engine constructs and resume my full throttle downwards blast. Okay, quantum detonators aren't affected by shininess. I send Guy a revised targeting schedule at the exact same moment I receive his. I send an acknowledgement, then start firing. Actually, I should probably start firing something at the armoured door at the bottom of the shaft. Or at least at the walls near the end, because we're probably going to either come out into a fortified building in a Qwardian city or a fortress in the middle of nowhere. Yeah, let's get-.

My shots pass harmlessly through the weapon hardpoints as they shift out of phase.

Aaaaahhhh… That's a problem.

"Guy, phasing turrets. Don't have any Nth Metal on you, do you?"

"Actually, no."

Okay… Okay… I've got phasic rounds. It's just a matter of matching phase, and there are only a few dozen that are usable with the energy requirements that other frequencies have. Um, select a target, set the round to a frequency at random, fire-.

Below me, Guy blasts a chunk out of the tunnel wall next to a phased turret, causing the rock and metal to explode outwards and send the turret tumbling downwards.

…

Okay, brute force and ignorance it is then.

I dismiss my existing weapon constructs and generate two large railguns, load them with crumbler rounds and fire.

"Ragnar, if you get the chance, try to provoke Lantern Duran into throwing a qwa-bolt directly down towards the bottom of the shaft."

"He is not some puppet I can play at your convenience!"

I fire again, smashing another pair to guns off their mounts. "Try taunting him."

"I am taunting him!"

"Try taunting him more." Another pair of shots, but this time the lasers switch their attention from me to strike at my rounds. The simple kinetic strike that results when the crumbler mechanism is destroyed does nothing like enough damage to prevent the gun from-.

Araugh!

Constructs gone, I'm hurtling downwards… Slower than I was a moment ago. Ah, let's see, construct armour gone, weapons gone, armour… Somewhat battered but actually doing-.

Lasers pierce my right arm, chest and left leg, and-. Okay, the ring prevents me from feeling pain exactly but it's still bloody disconcerting. I re-establish my construct armour-. No, thicken it, I'm not going to have to fight anything particularly manoeuvrable in it. Good, thrusters back on and try catching up with Guy-.

"Guy, are you alright?"

"Been better. Still… Flyin'."

"Okay, we should only have a minute until we're inside Qward and can try breaking out. Did you ever get around to adding a kinetic barrier to your costume?"

"Yeah? Why?"

"Because I'm not totally sure where the bottom is, and I want to make sure that we'll both survive if we fly into it at full force."

"…good thinkin' thereooooh crap."

"What?"

A qwa-bolt burns through the air to my right.

"We got incomin'."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd August
16:21 GMT

The fact that the Thunderers surging up the tunnel are armed identically to the ones we defeated up above probably says something about Qwardian psychology. Okay, I can understand standardising armaments, and in a place like Qward those are always going to be high quality… But they must already know that those aren't enough to kill us. I didn't detect any transmissions, but hiding transmissions from power rings is something I had assumed that Qwardians did by default. Plus, they're slower than us, so once we're past them they're going to struggle to catch up. Their formation is okay; dispersed enough horizontally and vertically that they can evade without flying into each other and fire without queering each other's shots.

Thin purple beams from the Thunderers' conventional guns stab upwards as Guy and I both adopt more violent evasive patterns. A couple of hits, but it's nothing that my construct armour can't take. Two more yellow blurs shoot past me, the qwa-energy smashing into the tunnel above us. Hah! The debris is falling more slowly than we are! I mean, unless the Thunderers have much better inertia control than I think they do it'll be a problem for them-.

I wonder how much damage this tunnel can take without crumbling completely?

"Guy, it might be helpful for us to grab some of their qwa-bolts."

"Those things go off if anyone who ain't Qwardian touches 'em. Cutting off their hands ain't gunna cut it."

Drat. Oh, wait, I can mind control people. "Can you handle the tunnel guns for a bit? I've got an idea."

"Oh, sure. No sweat."

"Thank you."

I select a Thunderer toward the rear of the pack. He has a full quiver, probably because his hands are occupied with a gun… I'm going to guess a graviton-augmented positron blaster. Not something I'd want to get hit by, but nothing like in the same damage league as a qwa-bolt. Still dodging around the tunnel I spread filaments outwards and then down, moving them as fast as I can ahead of me.

"That's interesting. What are you doing?"

Right, Kalmin.

"These aren't your men I take it?"

"Thunderers answer to the Thunderlord, and through him to the Council of Commanders. I don't command them. In fact, this is the longest conversation I've had with another living being in years."

"Since Sinestro welshed on his end of your compact."

"Whether through improbity or a failure of capacity, his inability to destroy the Green Lantern Corps, kill any Guardians or provide us with further information on the Anti-Monitor marked me as a failure. I gambled on an alien and I lost."

Recognising my filaments as potential threats the Thunderers start directing fire towards them. Several are broken, but any Thunderer who stops weaving long enough to get a decent shot gets shot himself. To cover the gaps I cause the filaments to branch, dividing themselves to ensure that I maintain full coverage. I also make them extend back up towards me in order to ensure that I maintain a connection to as many points as possible.

And now the bottom ends of the filaments are past the outer ranks of the Thunderers. Assuming that Thunderer armour is construct-resistant enough to defy weak filaments, that leaves my target's unarmoured neck and face as my only potential points of contact. I think he's noticed that they haven't carried on travelling past him, but rather than trying to dodge more he's dodging less to try and shoot them.

Alright then.

Filaments surge out and latch onto his neck.

Brand.

Too much red-orange around for me to see clearly, but I imagine that he's experiencing a fair bit of yellow at the moment. Resistance feels minimal, the Thunderer's desire to destroy being stronger than their obedience to whatever orders they've been given.

"Brand complete."

I abandon the lower section of filaments, then release Praexis Demons higher up. Directly into the faces of the Thunderers.

Hem them in.

Demons latch onto Thunderers, scrabbling at their armour and struggling to bite them. Several miss, falling past them and then trying to go fast enough to obey my command. I change my orders to the ones who end up lowest, instructing them to scout ahead instead. Others I tag with filaments, recall and then fire at the Thunderers again.

You want to kill the other Thunderers.

My new companion slows his ascent slightly and takes a qwa-bolt out of his quiver.

The Thunderer response to the Demons is well disciplined. They stow their guns and draw their qwa-swords, each stab disintegrating a Demon with little visible damage being inflicted on the Thunderer. But now they're drifting together, and they're too distracted to see their brother in arms prepping a qwa-bolt.

"What are those? Some form of Demon of the Orange Light? I have not seen such things since our master's departure."

"You'll see a whole lot more in a little while."

"Oh, I hope so."

My other ring lights up again. "How do I make this ring heal me again?"

"Focus on your desire for absolute physical wellness… Ah, in your case, your need to be in perfect condition in order to give your foes the best fight possible. And-"

"Agh!"

"-growing things back can hurt a great deal."

"… Understood."

The Thunderers are as bunched up as they're going to get, and my operative sees that and throws. The qwa-bolt strikes a Thunderer towards the centre of the group, utterly annihilating him and those closest.

Connection lost.

It also annihilates my Praexis Demons and heavily injures the rest of the Thunderer strike force as well, sending them careening around in an out-of-control tumble or plummeting downwards. Excellent. My operative beneath then blinks, smiling slightly as he grabs a new bolt to throw at us.

No. You no longer want to kill us. Your highest priority is to blast a hole through the guard at the base of the tunnel.

He jerks, then slows to a stop in the air. Then he grabs a qwa-bolt, aims and throws as we fly past him. The yellow beam blasts past us and I can dimly see it destroying something. Of course, at the speed we're going-.

"Tunnel end approaching! Brace brace brace!"

"I am somewhat occupied-."

Guy and I plunge through into the layer of sensor-dampening dust and rubble. The Praexis Demons I sent ahead as scouts are.. somewhere in here and they can't see more than-.

We shoot out into the sky of Qward, the ruins of the lower entry point behind us and rubble raining down on the Qwardian city below us. Guy and I pull up immediately, lowering our speed. He smiles, flares his environmental shield to remove the dust and nods at me.

"Made it."

"Right, so now we have the hard bit-."

Ragnar and Duran drop out, fat tentacles of orange and green pulling, ripping and tearing at each other as they both hurtle towards the ground.

"Stopping Ragnar getting himself killed."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd August
16:24 GMT

I raise my left hand as Ragnar generates a new sword and slashes at Duran in a spirited attempt to cleave him in two which Duran blocks on a new shield construct. Rather than, say, try to get away.

"Kalmin, is there any way to extend an Anti-Green Lantern's life? If it's just a matter of pride now I'm sure that Ragnar would be happy to fight him later."

"I focused my research on destructive technologies. It may well be that there are ways of extending their lives known to others. But there are none known to me."

"Wait, you're talkin' t'-?" Guy stares at the floating head. "The hell y' doin', Paul?"

"A Green Lantern! I am pleased."

"He just appeared. And it's not like they can't track us anyway." I generate a railgun construct and load a crumbler round. "Just a moment."

"You!" Guy comes closer, jabbing his right forefinger at Kalmin's face. "You're that Chief Weaponer bastard who created the Anti-Green rings!"

I fire, the crumbler round neatly striking the dull green construct tentacles a moment before Ragnar is fully enveloped. They evaporate, throwing Ragnar free as his own construct continues to hold Duran in place. "Ragnar! Fight on the move!"

"You tell me where you are-" Guy cracks his knuckles. "-an' I might go easy on yah."

"But I don't want you to 'go easy' on me. I want you to kill me."

Guy nods. "We can do that."

Ragnar heads in our direction, his constructs constricting Duran weakening enough for him to break free in a surge of green light moments before slamming into a Qwardian skyscraper. He slams through the armoured window, construct armour flickering and cracking as he continues to plough through the building's interior.

"We can? I mean, obviously I can, but you can?"

"Took a while, but the Guardians approved a shoot to kill on Qwardian officers. So come on, tell us where you are and we'll make it quick. In the palace in Krama Dhu? Hal said that was where you used to-."

"Allow me." His face is replaced by a floating arrow as a decidedly unhappy Ragnar reaches us. "It should take you minutes at most."

Guy and I look at each other and he shrugs. "He's the objective. Might as well."

He and Ragnar accelerate in the direction indicated. I take a moment to watch the city, noting the Thunder Fortresses even now sending Thunderers after us. Yep. We're going to need to head back to the matter universe the moment we reach Kalmin. Fortunately, there don't appear to be any patrol fleets nearby and the fixed guns around the outer walls have even less chance of hitting us than the ones in the tunnel did. Duran pulls himself out of the smashed in building a moment later, so I take a moment to fire a volley of crumbler rounds at him before taking off after Guy. The ring shows him try to evade, but he still takes a hit which collapses his construct armour.

The air howls through the intakes of our scramjet constructs as we power through the air.

"Ships comin' in from the…" Guy takes a moment as he realises that Earthly directions don't mean anything on Qward. He points. "Thataway. Any idea where we're goin'?"

"My keep isn't far. You will reach me before they will reach you. And if they work out that you are coming here they will most likely pull back."

"Why do you want to die?"

"Because I am a loyal servant of the Anti-Monitor. I studied under Chief Weaponer Kiman the Studious. I was there when he finally succeeded in breaking open the Golden Obelisk of Qward."

"Wasn't that whole thing some kinda Qwardian practical joke? You all spent hundreds of years tryin' t' get in, then it turned out there was nothin' in there?"

"So my ignorant countrymen believed. So they still believe to this day. You, orange Lantern. What say you?"

"It's not the destination, it's the journey?"

"Yes! Exactly! The effort of breaking into it forced us to constantly improve our understanding and control of the universe. Even Yokal The Atrocious' use of wild alien animals forced us to reach out our hands to other worlds in order to capture them. Always, we had a goal, and when we reached it we found that the mission it set us had given us everything we hoped to take from the interior of the obelisk itself! Sublime!"

"Still not seeing-."

"Kiman fell from power after most other Qwardians didn't appreciate that point. I saw then that Qward needed a new mission, and that a man as widely held in contempt as he could not provide it. So I killed him and took his place."

"Yeah, you're a real piece of work."

"But if your gamble with Sinestro failed, why are you still alive?"

"Because Varnathon is a coward. I accepted culpability! I should be dead now! That I am allowed to continue living is an insult to the Anti-Monitor, to Qward and to me. But if I cannot die by the hand of my successor as is my right, dying at the hands of my enemy is the next best thing." He looks mildly disappointed. "And if Harold Jordan of Earth isn't here, you'll have to do."

"Little while ago, you sayin' that would a' really got t' me."

"But now you recognise the truth of his natural superiority?"

"No. I learned how t' do this."

Guy raises his left hand, a brilliant corona of emerald light building around it for three seconds before a beam of emerald energy lances out into the distance. Ring, where was he aiming?

The ring shows me what looks like a squat stone castle, now missing one tower and quite a lot of wall.

"You weren't in that bit, right?"

"Astounding. Lantern, I am genuinely impressed."

Guy grins. "Well… I hate t' brag…"

"Allow me to retort."

Gun turrets deploy along the battlements, and we all raise construct shields moments before the high-powered light speed shots start slamming into us.

"Hey! I thought you wann'ed t' die!"

"Everything worthwhile in life is bought with blood and pain, Green Lantern. If you want to be the one to kill me, you're going to have to earn it."

Ragnar nods enthusiastically. "I like the way this one thinks!"

Yes. Of course you do.

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd August
16:27 GMT

Guy grimaces and tries to brace himself in mid-air, semi-crouching behind a construct barrier as the shots slam into us. "For a guy who wants to die-" I generate construct railguns and cold guns and begin targeting the turrets. "-you're sure putting a lotta effort-" The initial fusillade stops as the guns switch to firing in sequence. "-int' stoppin' us!"

"I neither want to die nor want to live. I simply realise that I have outlived my time, and that death is… An appropriate conclusion to my career."

I fire at a turret which is about to fire, striking the barrel just as its firing mechanism activates. The resulting misfire totally disintegrates the weapon itself while somehow leaving the stone it was sitting on totally unaffected.

"A good shot." The guns break pattern, all firing at once directly at me. Guy's shield fails, my own construct armour fails and I'm knocked back with my personal shields and armour barely holding together. "But it's not enough. Do better. Show me your divinity, your destructive power. Show me the face of the Anti-Monitor before I die."

Ragnar raises his sword, his aura intensifying. "I'll show you-"

A tether wraps itself around his head. He struggles for a moment, then it sprouts two blades which slice through his link to his scramjet constructs and drags him backwards through the air.

"I have an alternative suggestion." Guy re-establishes his barrier, a quick look of concern in my direction as I retake my position beside him, repairing and recreating my armour. Fire's still coming in, but Guy's barrier is good enough that they need to fire simultaneously to breach it. "Would you consider taking a commission?"

This is our cause. This is our fight.

"From another alien?" He looks almost amused. "Sinestro impressed me with his personal virtues. I had not even heard of you a hour ago, and I am not bought so cheaply as Varnathon and his cronies."

Let none who live dispute our right.

"I'm not offering you money. I'm offering you an opportunity."

"Paul…"

Ragnar conjures up a bladewind, swirling sharp edges slicing through his bindings and then exploding towards the recovered and closing Lantern Duran. "This time there will be no distractions!"

Lantern Duran generates construct qwa-bolts. "Good!"

A pair of shots strike the shield in front of my face.

"Explain yourself."

"The Anti-Monitor rewards destruction, right? Novel and destructive weapons from the Weaponers, feats of destruction and skill from Thunderers."

Powered by need, our tireless might.

"In essence. Now destroy me and send me to my god!"

"Do you really believe that your capacity for destruction is ended? Have you suddenly become incapable of making weapons because you were betrayed by one alien?"

A tall.. circular device extends itself slowly from the castle's battlements, crackling with yellow lightning. A qwa-amp. "No. For even suggesting-."

Guides all souls with orange light.

A translucent orange snake outline surrounds me for a moment as my eyes and rings blaze with orange power. Guy drops to the side as we surge forward, a dozen tiny constructs flickering into existence as the qwa-amp discharges at us. Being able to handle qwa-energy is the difference between a Weaponer and 'some crazy alien who makes weapons'. On Qward, successfully controlling it and forming it into a weapon marks the end of an Weaponer's apprenticeship, a process that has a survival rate of nearly fifteen percent according to John's files.

The blast hits our constructs and appears to… Precipitate out of itself. Plenty of force gets through; if we tried this without merging we'd probably be torn apart. But like this, we can manage the spill-over and keep our efforts focused on our work.

Qwa-energy: particle, wave and something else. Perhaps magic, we don't know. Perhaps like the colours in some way: a force that doesn't fit politely into a convenient definition. The key to handling it isn't understanding the energy itself, but how it can be transformed from one form to another.

The qwa-amp dims as its excited energy store is expended. My constructs move, twist and strike…

And a giant qwa-bolt appears where once there was qwa-lightning.

"How… Did..?"

A construct tong points the bolt in the direction of the Qwardian defence fleet heading in our direction. Now, we twist like so…

The bolt turns back into energy, striking the fleet almost immediately and detonating with such enthusiasm that we can see it unaided from here. Most of the ships are gone, and the few capable of moving under their own power are turning away just as fast as they can.

"Why did you not throw it at me?"

"We have a use for you. You value destruction above everything. We are building an army for a war which will consume a vast area of space and destroy-"

"No. No."

"-a huge number of beings. Would that not be a more fitting conclusion to your life than begging aliens to attack your home so that you could die without shame? Would that not be a greater service to the Anti-Monitor?"

"What the hell are you doing?"

"He is a mortal who can make power rings. He is unique. He is special. We want his service." The glow fades as the Ophidian returns fully to my lantern. "And he won't be making Sinestro any more rings if he's working on Maltus."

"Maltus? The original home of the Guardians?"

"Just so. We're making war on the Reach: a large interstellar empire who habitually exterminate the civilisations they conquer. They also have some rather interesting anti-Lantern weapons we'll be expecting you to work out how to overcome. We'll also need ships and weapons for conventional warriors. You could die in the field, in honest combat. Or live and take revenge against Sinestro, the man who betrayed you and caused you to be cast out. Or against Varnathon, who perverts your god's mission for personal profit."

I pull a ring out of one of my armour's pouches. "These rings don't kill you after twenty four hours. I ask you, Weaponer Kalmin: what do you want?"

"You gotta be kiddin' me. Are you serious?"

I close my left fist, shutting down my connection to the conflicted Weaponer. "You know why I want a new personal lantern for Alan?"

"'cause he doesn't get old so long as he has one?"

"Yes. And all the Controllers who know anything about power rings attuned themselves to the Orange Central Power Battery before I got around to asking them about it. Which means they can only make orange lanterns."

He looks pained. "This guy?"

I open my hand, Kalmin's face reappearing. "Well?"

"I have decided. Let us kill some people together."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd August
16:41 GMT

Guy and I stand on the broken battlements of Kalmin's keep, idly watching Ragnar and Duran slam increasingly large constructs into one another.

"Can't believe you're serious about this."

"You mean, how I recruited an expert weapon smith and ring forger who knows Sinestro better than anyone alive?"

He glances sideways at me, clearly unimpressed. "Recruiting a monster."

I shrug. "I need to fight the Reach. You know as well as I do that outside the periphery region there aren't any other civilisations in their territory. An expert in destructive technology is far more useful to me than a morally praiseworthy individual."

"Even if that-."

"The Green Lantern strike force who lost-"

"Drew."

"-with the Reach all those centuries ago was composed of heroes." I smile faintly. "Do you know what happens to a Beetle hit by a qwa-bolt?"

"Or you, when he stabs you in the back."

I reach up with my right hand and tap my faceplate. "I'm a pretty good judge of character. Unless the Anti-Monitor shows up in person, I invade Qward or I try coming to terms with Sinestro, I think he'll be happy designing and making weapons." I turn my attention back to the fight as Duran generates a colossal Anti-Monitor construct which punches Ragnar into the ground. Ragnar shines brilliant orange as he gets his feet under him and pushes upwards, slowly forcing the dark god's hand off him. "Which Dox might have been thinking about doing, by the way."

Guy twitches, his head turning to face me fully. "Fer real?"

"Dox and I both hate being dependent. At the moment, he's dependent on me for training. The Controllers don't have an existing conflict with Sinestro, Sinestro's an expert power ring user… And it's not as if the Greenies on the boundary of Reach space would dare make an issue of it either."

"You know that bastard wears a necklace of rings he's taken off Lanterns he's killed, yeah?"

"No, but it doesn't surprise me. Now congratulate me for ensuring that I'll never have to work with him."

"Yeah." He turns back to the spectacle before us. "Great work."

The Anti-Monitor staggers back as Ragnar shoves it off and fires a volley of energy pulses at its creator. Duran responds by giving the Anti-Monitor a shield in its right hand to block for him and causes it to fire a beam of energy out of its left.

"Tora and you still getting along alright?"

"Yeah. Well. She's not thrilled about me workin' away more, but…" He shrugs.

"We could probably sort out some sort of portal from Earth to Oa. Cut down on travel times."

"How you plannin' on gettin' the Guardians t' agree t' that?"

Ah. "Doesn't have to be on Oa. Just… Closer than Earth."

"I don't wanna make it look like they're playin' favorites."

"No reason why other Lanterns couldn't have a similar arrangement. I mean, they can… Actually pay for theirs…" Guy chuckles, bowing his head slightly. "Nothing… Major happen on Earth?"

"What, like the Justice League bein' at each other's throats cause'a the tawkin' to you gave us?"

"Not… Specifically… Just… You know… How people are…"

"Things got a bit shouty right after you left. In the end, Batman told everyone t'… Go home, cool off a little. That was a real bad time t' be a supervillain."

"And after they calmed down?"

"I was kinda impressed. You pullin' something like that, none of us havin' the slightest clue until it was already done." He looks downwards, missing Ragnar split the Anti-Monitor's beam with a sword construct as he flies against the stream to slice through its arm. Huh. That was a raw power thing, but it would still have been quite difficult. "Think you might be off a few Christmas card lists…"

"I'm a Hellenist."

That gets me an unimpressed glance as Duran abandons the Anti-Monitor construct and switches to a simple shield and lightning bolt combo while Ragnar opts to keep his sword. Having learned something from the ongoing fight, Ragnar repeatedly moves around his environment rather than simply charging headlong, an action which wrong foots Duran and results in his defensive blasts missing completely.

"I wasn't trying to make friends. I was trying to make a point."

"Well… Point made." He looks at the ongoing fight. "Ragnar ain't doin' too bad."

"Short range combat against single opponents is his thing. If he can't win this then there probably isn't any point in me recruiting him."

"And if Tui finds out..?"

"I can use bad people."

"I am glad to hear it." We both turn as Kalmin walks out of the door behind us, hammer and shield strapped to his back. "I would be disappointed if you were trying to destroy the Reach with harsh words."

"I dunno. Paul here nearly destroyed the Justice League with harsh words."

Kalmin nods. "Perhaps he has a natural gift." He walks over to the wall on the far side of Guy, watching the fight with interest. "He isn't doing too badly for a beginner."

A blur, and a dozen construct Ragnars dive at Duran. Duran blocks, shooting the first few as he retreats-.

The real Ragnar surges out of the ground beneath him, construct sword slicing through Duran's wrist and severing his ring from his body. Duran's body goes limp as the disconnect from his ring shreds his brain but Ragnar goes for a killing stroke anyway. Grinning, he grabs the still-bleeding head and holds it up for our approval.

"Nicely done. Reasonable use of misdirection."

The anti-green ring rises off Duran's severed hand and flies over to Kalmin, who pockets it.

"We're finished here, Ragnar. Time to head back."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd August
16:45 GMT

Kalmin's hand reaches for his hammer as soon as he spots where we are. "This isn't Maltus."

We've reappeared in the Green Lantern Sector House of Sector One Four One Six, Lantern Tui… Ah, good, she's here back already. Lantern Tui manning the monitors. She turns, blinking for a moment as she sees Kalmin and then raising her ring-.

"Cool it, Tui. He's on… Paul's side." Guy still isn't happy with my decision, but if he'd been intending to force the issue now would be the time. I'm glad to see that he doesn't. "Everyone on Maltus lives on the surface. Did'ja wanna dig your way out through miles a' rock?"

Kalmin nods, his hand retreating slightly. "I suppose not. Not without doing a great deal of preparation in advance."

Ragnar waves his left hand dismissively. "I doubt that the flight will be a long one. Having used this-" He holds his left hand in front of his face. "-magnificent weapon in combat, I am looking forward to meeting my new brothers-in-arms."

"Nice to hear that you're so motivated, Lantern Ragnar."

"I am pleased that my concerns were unfounded." He hesitates for a moment, then draws himself up slightly and brings his fists together at his sternum. "Grand Master. I am eager to slaughter our enemies."

I nod. That reaction is within the bounds I predicted, 'Grand Master' being an approximate translation from his language of the title for the revered leader of a war band. Him saying that actually means more than him using my actual title. However… I look at Lantern Tui, tilt my head slightly towards Ragnar and raise my eyebrows.

She nods.

Ah.

"How is your ring's charge holding out?"

Ragnar shrugs. "My ring dims, but it is of little concern now that I am to be equipped with my own lantern."

"I ask, because I was surprised how long you had been able to make a single ring charge last. You've had that for… What, fifty days or so?"

Ragnar looks slightly uncomfortable. "Something like that. I rationed my usage carefully."

"Oh, that surprises me. Just after I got my first ring, I was recharging every few days, even when I wasn't using it for very much." I nod contemplatively. "I suppose if you limited yourself to an environmental shield and the occasional flight, you could eke that out-"

Ragnar smiles. "Exactly."

"-but you wanted that ring hard enough to draw it to you. You're a huge fan." I shrug. "It seemed.. odd to me that someone like you wouldn't have experimented."

I nod to Lantern Tui, and she brings up images of Ragnar taken from Betrassus' data networks. He's clearly using constructs, armour, some sort of personal flying vehicle and… A construct of himself to use as a sparring opponent.

"And going by the date-stamps, those were taken fairly close together."

"Yes, I-. Used it like that at first. Then I realised how unwise it-" Lantern Tui presses another button, bringing up an image of a dead Barrionian. "-was, to waste power like that."

With a crystalline life form it isn't always easy to tell what the cause of death was, but given the smooth cuts which appear to have severed the victim's manipulator appendages as well as the cracking throughout its epidermis… It doesn't seem unreasonable to assume that it might well have been a buzz blade.

"Her name was Verilion." Lantern Tui's face is stoical. "And based on data gathered from local surveillance systems, I think there's a good chance that she-" More images appear, orange blurs visible in all of them. "-had an orange ring as well."

Guy sighs as he looks at me. "A murderer too? You sure know how t'-."

"It was not murder!" Ragnar's glow fades to nothing as the rage at the insult to his honour suffuses him. For a moment I consider taking his ring from him, but… I think I'll let this play out. See what he does. "She had a ring on her tentacle, and her heart was filled with the same need I feel! We fought and I won! I will not be insulted and I will not have you insult her by calling it murder!"

"That's not quite how Barrio III's police see it. Or-" Lantern Tui moves the images aside and brings up new ones. Four different individuals, four more corpses. "-the governments of any of the worlds you visited."

A green image of Lantern Dulok appears above one of the consoles, Ragnar's brother Prince Stentar by his side. "That matches the five dead orange rings we found in Prince Ragnar's quarters. He's been killing other Orange Lantern rookies to keep himself powered."

Ragnar throws his arms wide. "I freely confess to it! The fights were glorious, and none who stood against me shamed themselves!"

Stentar leans forward, glaring at his younger brother. "You know full well that is not how it works amongst aliens, brother."

I walk over to the control panel, extending a filament to it as I update myself with the details of their investigation. Hm. "The most recent death is believed to have occurred over a month ago."

"Plannin' on goin' huntin' again? Bet you were real glad when we turned up."

Ragnar's eyes crease up. "No, I'd… Adapted, at that point. I was planning on approaching one of you, once I had finished accepting oaths of vassalage from all of my father's rivals."

"You seriously expect us t' believe-."

"Guy."

He turns to me, throwing his arms up as he does so. "Oh, come on Paul! I mean, the Weaponer I kinda get, but this-."

"Each of the police reports mentions that the victim's behaviour changed noticeably shortly before their deaths. He changed his strategy a little while after we finished setting up the Orange Central Power Battery. There was a good reason why I did that before handing out other rings."

Guy's eyes narrow slightly as he nods. "You think that they were all goin' orange light crazy, like you did a couple a' times."

"I think it's possible. Prince Stentar, have you ever known your brother to tell a direct lie?"

"Not since Lantern Sinestro told him that Green Lanterns were always honest." Ragnar folds his arms and nods proudly at the affirmation.

I stare into Ragnar, trying to look back through… Yes, there are regions where the orange light associations are much stronger. Jagged. Power funnelled in but not properly directed.

"I think it was."

"So, what? You just wanna let him off?"

"I have committed no-!"

I turn to him. "Ragnar, shut up, there's a good fellow." He shuts. "I am… Uncertain. Certainly, each of those police forces should be notified so that they can close the cases. However, I see very little point in requiring Lantern Ragnar to hand himself over. We both know full well that people hopped up on the orange light can behave in very unusual and.. out of character ways. I doubt very much that we could prove exactly what the situation was when Ragnar encountered them, or how responsible they could be considered to be for their own actions."

Guy grunts.

"What I'm going to suggest is that Lantern Ragnar return to Maltus with me, and I assign him to support Darkstar field teams immediately. You and the police forces can continue to gather evidence. If you collectively come to the conclusion that there is a realistic prospect of conviction, I will guarantee his return. In the meantime, he will be fighting the Reach, which is a far more valuable contribution to galactic life than sitting in a prison cell or rotting in a grave. Is that acceptable to you?"

Guy bows his head slightly as he considers the offer.

"Somethin' like that… Workin' out how Green Lanterns an' Orange Lanterns 're gunna deal with each other… That's one fer the Guardians." He looks up. "This one time, if you swear t' me you'll bring him back..? Okay. But right after, you an' me need to take a trip to Oa."

I nod. "That sounds wise."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd August
14:12 GMT -7
Earth 8096

I take a moment to look out across the treetops of the White River National Forest just as I drop below the canopy. It's a beautiful green at this time of year, the colour of the leaves contrasting wonderfully with the pale orange of the rocky fingers jutting out of the ground. I suppose that if you're a criminal wanted in about forty countries, this is the place to hide out. Of all the places I thought that he'd end up, this wasn't even in my top fifty. Assuming that he's actually here of course.

Ring, confirm that we've arrived.

Confirmed. We are at the coordinates indicated.

I've got a sneaky suspicion that the first part of this is going to be tiresome. Still, best to get it over with.

I touch down gently, leaf mould crunching gently under my feet. Hm. I don't see anything...

"Mister Lehnsherr?" I make a point of obviously looking around. Yes, a ring scan would probably find him, but it's not like I've got a huge reserve of good will-.

Alert! Magnetic-

Armour.

-flux detected!

Orange armoured plates appear about half a second before several lengths of steel chain wrench themselves from the ground and fly at me. While that was hardly unexpected, I am gratified that they wrap around my torso, arms and legs rather than my head and neck. It implies that he does actually want to talk to me. As it is, rather than yank me into the air or tie me to a tree, my armour gets a little stressed and I have to exert myself slightly to remain in one place. He keeps trying for about fifteen seconds, then the chains cease pulling and settle for wrapping themselves in knots around one another.

"I told you to come unarmed."

Ring, scan. Ah. A speaker.

"True, but to be fair, I never actually agreed to that stipulation." I try moving slightly, the chains around me jangling quietly as they shift. "Do you intend to come out… Or do I keep talking to the trees?"

"What makes you think that I'm anywhere near you?"

"I analysed your fights. The greatest distance I saw you exercising precise control over was two hundred metres. I also noticed that your brute force magnetic pulses taper off significantly after a kilometre, even if you have line of sight. So, you're almost certainly close by, and while you might have some sort of camouflage system set up the X gene does rather stand out to power ring sensors."

No immediate response.

"Mr Lehnsherr, I came here because I wanted to talk to you. I'm armed, but I'm not exactly loaded for bear and I didn't bring any backup." I move my arms as far as the chains will allow. "Would you mind?"

The chains shake slightly, then begin to uncoil, dropping to the floor and then slithering snake-like over to… An utterly unremarkable looking elderly man dressed in an outdoorsman's attire, right hand resting on a metal walking stick. If that's who I think it is, he's looking pretty good for an eighty year old. He smiles faintly. "Not quite what you were expecting?"

"I'm a little disappointed that you didn't think I was worth the full costume. You're just about the only man I know of who could make the cape work." I frown as I drop my construct armour. "And your.. face is rather different."

"A gift from my eldest daughter, when I… Retired. If I put on my old armour, my natural face reappears. Otherwise…" He shrugs. "Nobody looks at me twice."

"That explains how you've managed to hide, I suppose."

"That, and my own skills." He brings the stick to the fore, resting both hands on it. "So. Why have you put all of this effort into tracking down a retired supervillain?"

I nod. "I was.. hoping that you'd be willing to help me with something. I think it would be up your street-."

He makes a noise halfway between a cough and a laugh. "The last thing mutantkind need is me becoming active again. Decades of fighting and I'm still not really sure whether I made any sort of difference. We're not threatened by Sentinels any longer, but despite Charles' efforts we're no closer to being accepted than we were when we started."

I nod. "True. Mutants are quite unpopular." I frown. "Don't you find that a little odd?"

"You are aware that that part of my childhood I did not spend in a ghetto I spent in a concentration camp?"

"Sure. In the forties. But now? Two generations raised knowing that the holocaust is the most horrific thing to have occurred. I mean-" I take some files out of subspace. "-take… Bolton and Gonzalez. They tested a wide cross section of the population, and found that people from all groups generally rated mutants less positively than similar baseline Humans. And those were mutants who were outwardly indistinguishable from baseline Humans most of the time."

"I'm not certain that I see what you're getting at."

"Byrne, Pacheco and Pak. People were read a story about a superhuman and asked how they felt about their activities. Same story each time, but one third were told that the superhuman was an x-gene mutant, one third that they were a magician and another third that they used advanced technology. No significant different in positive or negative responses between the second two groups, but the mutant was generally described less favourably. And there's dozens of other studies, demonstrating a similar sort of thing. It's not mutant powers. I'm far scarier than.. eighty percent of mutants? And I get a pretty good response. A.. cursory analysis suggests that there's something about being a mutant that sets people off."

He frowns as he considers what I'm saying. "That's… a little odd. I'd.. always assumed that there simply weren't enough of people like you to make an impact on the public consciousness."

I nod. "I considered that. But I had lunch with Mister Gonzalez, to.. see if he had any thoughts on the subject. And he told me something very interesting that didn't get published. It turns out that one of the volunteers they put in the 'baseline Human' pictures was actually a mutant. She just didn't tell anyone until one of the experimenters told her what the picture was going to be used for." I lean forwards slightly. "And as soon as she did, her responses became more negative, even from people who hadn't heard that."

"I don't… I don't understand?"

"I didn't either. But on a tangential note: have you ever heard of a microbe called Archaea Tractabilis? Don't worry if you haven't, there's been very little research done on it. It lives exclusively in the Human brain in minute quantities. As far as anyone can tell, it does nothing except die very quickly when the host does. The current 'guess' in the medical profession is that it does something with dead cells… But the interesting thing about it? Two groups of Humans don't have it. At all. One of those groups consists of people like me." I put my right hand on my chest. "And the Hulk. People whose bodies are either so different from the Human norm that microbes adapted for Human bodies can't survive in them, or who appeared from a parallel universe without that microbe and wear a device which constantly restores their body to 'factory settings'."

"Want to guess who the second group is?"

"Mutants?"

"Specifically, people with the x-gene. As… An aside, I don't actually believe that the x-gene is a natural mutation, but we'll leave that for now."

"But what does that have to do with Human hostility to mutants?"

"I have a power ring. If I want to study a microbe, I force that microbe to stay alive while I study it. I didn't find out much… Until I waved Tony's experimental telepathy detector at it."

I generate a scanner construct.

"Beep beep beep."

"The microbe is telepathic."

"Yep. I mean, it sort of makes sense. There's no point worrying about people like me; we're flukes and freaks. But a breeding population that has immunity -and you do by the way, I checked- is a more coherent threat."

"Humans hate mutants because they're.. infected with something controlling their brains?"

"No, no, not controlling. It looks like it's more of a nudge towards hostility. And I don't have any evidence that the things are really intelligent. It's more likely that they're reacting to others of their kind not being present. But if I'm right… It's a microbe. We can kill microbes."

"I see." He shrugs. "Clearly, I approve, but what do you need me for?"

"You're an expert in x-gene research. If we can work out exactly what makes… So many different mutants immune to the same thing, and share that with the rest of the species-."

"With Humans."

"If you like. We'll fix the problem. Social regard for mutants will gradually shift to seeing them as just another group of superhumans with heritable powers. So. How about it?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd August
16:45 GMT

High Weaponlord Varnathon smiles pleasantly at me as we stroll along a gantry overlooking one of the Weaponers' foundries, his blue and green pet roboheads flying alongside him. "I apologise for the.. awkwardness, above. The Thunderers really should have known better than to challenge a member of the Apokoliptian… Elite? That's the term, isn't it?"

I nod. Perhaps I was.. wrong to hold off this long. Getting to Qward 16… Or… Qward Anti-16? They're part of the same parallel after all… Not sure. Getting to Qward was simple enough, even without Sinestro's guidance. I vaguely remember from the comics that Qward's surface was supposed to be barren with the civilisation existing beneath it. Here, it's largely barren, with clusters of civilisation around authorised trading ports.

"Quite alright. No harm done. To me. And I'm sure… Duran..? Will recover in the fullness of time."

Perhaps jumping into the fighting pit with the man wasn't the cleverest thing I could have done, but I thought that his taunts were getting a bit on the racist side.

"Alright enough that you are prepared to let the Commander go?"

I look under my right arm at where Commander Roval has given up on struggling to get away. After his initial rush failed to fell me he ordered his subordinates to use qwa-bolts on me. Preventing them from doing so wasn't.. that much of a trial, though it did force me to reveal my drones.

I raise my right arm, and Roval groans weakly as he hits the floor.

"Uuuuhuuhuuugh?"

The green head swoops down and scans him. "Commander Irik T. Roval has been incapacitated."

"So I see." I watch him for a moment, but it doesn't look like he's going to get up. "Let that be a lesson to you, Commander. Whatever ideology you hold, however good your equipment or how much hatred or contempt you hold in your heart: there is always a bigger fish."

Varnathon nods as we leave the recumbent commander behind. "Wise words. Though you may want to avoid repeating them around the Anti-Monitor's more dogmatic followers."

I nod. "To be fair, I'm not sure that it's true in his case." I shrug. "Not with grandfather stuck on the Source Wall, at least."

"Your grandfather?"

"Yuga Khan. I doubt that you'll have heard of him, he's been… Gone for a very long time."

Varnathon smiles. "But not forgotten."

"Alas, no." Ah. "Just so that we don't have a misunderstanding, while he's feared by everyone who remembers him and we're all very glad that he isn't coming back, as far as we can tell he isn't actually dead."

"So what brings you here?" Varnathon has apparently decided to move things along. "While I'm confident of the quality of Qward's armouries, Apokolips has historically preferred to rely on its own development programs."

"Oh, I'm not precious about it. Besides, I'm mostly here to get a weapon I own that was originally made on Qward repaired."

"Oh."

"I make my own.. infantry and support weapons, but this is a specialist piece and I wouldn't want to risk it in the hands of someone who didn't know what they were doing."

"I'm certain that we can come to terms. For a valued client such as yourself we should even be able to find the original Weaponer who made it." He glances at me. "What exactly is it?"

I open a pouch mounted onto my chest armour and gently pull out the velvet bag containing my yellow power ring. "Something I picked up in a parallel universe, made on their version of Qward."

"Then while I may struggle to get the particular Weaponer, perhaps their alter-eg-" I tip the ring out onto my right palm. "-ooooo."

"If you could, that would be splendid. I'm particularly eager to recover as much of its AI as possible. It was patterned after the mind of its former wearer, Thaal Sinestro, and I've grown rather fond of it."

"You've-? Taken the power ring from a parallel universe version of Thaal Sinestro?"

"No, I took it from a holding facility. He was already dead."

"I see. I'm afraid that… Ah, the creator, Weaponer Kalmin, was.. discharged… Some time ago."

"Oh." I frown. "That's a pity. Do you have anyone else capable of doing the work?"

"Yes, actually. Council-Member Diataria Lysis worked under him on the Anti-Green Lantern Corps project. I'm certain that her expertise will be sufficient."

Jordan's record of the event only mentioned one female Qwardian being involved. "And where might we find her?"

22nd August
17:14 GMT

Weaponer Lysis bends over her work station as the mechanical appendages go to work on my ring. "You needn't worry, Grayven. I assure you that this is well within my abilities."

"I doubt that you made it onto the Council of Commanders making slug throwers. Still, please excuse my concern. I have grown rather fond of the AI's voice."

The armatures move, light flickering between their probe attachments and my ring. Tuning me out or just ignoring me?

"I note that you're… Somewhat more comprehensively dressed than you were during your confrontation with Lantern Jordan. I don't know Qwardian fashion-."

"Once I realised that I had ascended as far in the Qwardian hierarchy as I was likely to, I decided that I would dress to please myself and not any observers. This is far more practical."

"Oh, I approve. I'm an armour man myself, but I imagine that for a scientist and engineer like yourself heavy plate would prove somewhat cumbersome."

She sighs very faintly and tries to indicate with her posture that she has no interest in conversing with me. "I have little interest in your feelings on the matter."

"Oh, good, because… I recently finished a long term relationship and… Not that you're unattractive or anything, but you're… Kind of small… For me? I just don't think it would work."

She straightens up slightly, and from the tensing of the skin around her eye sockets I think that if her implants allowed her to hold her eyes closed that she would be doing so. "Please stop unless you want me to vomit on your power ring."

"But if you've really hit the ole transparent aluminium ceiling… I could always use a talented armourer in my service. You'd have to relocate to Tamaran, of course. Pretty egalitarian place, and not in the Apokoliptian 'you're all equally worthless' kind of way. We're working on designs and doctrines for an as yet unbuilt fleet, and I'm sure that the people involved would be grateful for any input you wished to provide."

She pauses. "A.. war fleet?"

"Perhaps, eventually. At the moment, a simple self defence fleet. But it's in a very unstable region of space. All sorts of things are possible, in the medium term. Any trouble?"

"No. Correcting the errors in the physical structure is a relatively simple task. I recognise Kalmin's design. Some sort of gravity pulse weapon?"

"A telekine, but effectively. How long?"

"I will have completed a full restore of the physical structures in under three hours. Other elements may take longer, but I doubt that I'll be working on it past day-end."

I smile. "Excellent news."

"Would there be a dress code?"

"Tamaranians traditionally don't wear-" I generate a construct image of a Tamaranian street largely occupied by men in pants and boots. "-much, but I prefer a more relaxed dress code and no one's said anything. Though…" I reach into a pouch and pull out an orange power ring. "If you want to really throw yourself into it, these things usually require a colour's sigil to be displayed somewhere."

"Interesting. Though working for an alien did not work out well for my former tutor."

"True, but-."

"Why don't you tell me about yourself, so that I have more data to include in my decision-making?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

Collegiality

23rd August
11:58 GMT

Kalmin nods at me as I walk into his partially completed workshop. "Illustres."

"Lan-." I note the lack of an orange glow. "Weaponer Kalmin." I look around the room until I see the ring I gave him sitting in a vice on a work bench. "Is there something wrong with your ring?"

"Yes." He nods in affirmation. "I didn't make it." He raises his hammer and brings it down on his forge, the sound of ringing metal reverberating around the room. He mmms, then turns aside and alters some settings on a nearby instrument panel.

"Controller Hannanan does good work. As far as I'm able to tell. I mean, if there was any major problem I'm sure that Clarissi Dox would have found it by now."

"Perhaps. But it's a point of pride: Weaponers do not use weapons made by other people. I will wait until my own understanding of the orange light is great enough, and then make my own. Or perhaps another colour; I'm sure that I can hate enough for red."

Could he-? Yes, yes, of course he can. "Probably, but I should warn you that the colours furthest from the centre have-."

That earns me a mild glare. "I have read your notes. Unclear as they were as to how you actually learned some of that information, I am a scientist. And much as I love destruction, I value the control of it as well. I will not experiment recklessly."

"Glad to hear it."

"But I doubt that you really want me here just to design your warships. Why did you take the risk of travelling to Qward in order to make contact with me?"

"No one reason. We do need ships and weapons, and with you right there and apparently willing to take the commission, killing you seemed… Wasteful. Secondly, you can make rings. If things with the Controllers don't work out…"

He smiles faintly. "You want someone else who can do the job."

"No. I want someone who can teach me. My understanding of avarice is flawless. It should be well within my abilities." I hold out my right hand, orange light pooling in a band over my palm while Kalmin looks on with undisguised interest. "But so far it… Hasn't gone well. It occurred to me that someone who isn't millions of years old would be far more capable of understanding the approach I'd need. Thirdly, I'd like you to make me a lantern."

"If you like Hinon's work so much, why not just ask her for one."

"It's not for me. It's for a friend of mine, a former Green Lantern."

"Hah! That didn't go particularly well for me last time."

"Oh, he wasn't a member of the Green Lantern Corps. One of their Lanterns, a man by the name of Yalan Gur, went rogue. The Guardians wiped his ring's AI and a group of primitive villagers from my homeworld killed him. Wind the clock on two thousand years, his ring ends up in the hands of my friend Alan Scott. He was able to use it to great effect for about twenty five years before entering a state of semi-retirement."

Kalmin frowns. "The Guardians accept that?"

"He didn't meet either of my homeworld's Sector Lanterns." I shrug. "Either they didn't care or they didn't know. Once my world had its first normal recruit, he asked about it and the Guardians told him that they had nothing to do with it."

"But if he had been using a ring for twenty five years, his strength of will must have been incredible." Kalmin considers for a moment, then smiles in satisfaction. "Ah. I see."

"They won't recruit him, so unless I can talk some sense into them today I'll have to get him a personal lantern from somewhere else."

"What happened to the one he inherited from Yalan Gur?"

I turn my right hand palm down and clench my fist, my lantern appearing in my hand. "He gave it to me. I owe him my ability to fight at this level, and I intend to pay my debt."

Kalmin pulls his Anti-Green ring out of his pocket and lays it on his anvil. "I made these to run without personal lanterns. Their users weren't supposed to live long enough to need to recharge. Lantern Jordan destroyed the Anti-Green Lantern Central Power Battery. I only have this one because I was still working on it when the final confrontation happened, and it only has as much charge as it has."

"Can you build green personal lanterns? Ones which don't kill the users after twenty four hours?"

He tenses and relaxes the muscles in his shoulders. "Not… Quickly. The Guardians jealously guard their control of the green light. Making my original Central Power Battery required me to work around their protections, and they've improved them since. If you brought me some Green Lanterns I could hijack their equipment without too much difficulty, but given how you were treating with those three I doubt that you'd like my methods."

"Anything less evil?"

"Hmm." He strokes his chin with his left hand. "A parallel universe, perhaps? One without Guardians?"

Blue-Me's files made no mention of Guardians… "And you could make one if you went there?"

"Parallel universes aren't an area I've studied in any depth. Maybe. If the green light worked similarly there to how it does here, I could make a lantern that maintained the connection. How soon would you want it?"

"Probably sooner than that method would allow."

"I can understand wanting to take to the field again, but why do you need to hurry?"

"Alan's a very old man. Something… About what the Guardians did to Yalan Gur's ring, caused green light to bleed into his soul. At this point, he's partially elemental. If he gets a replacement ring-."

Kalmin's eyes widen, which is a little disturbing to see in a Qwardian. "He could become as the Guardians are."

"He'd rejuvenate and have a much longer lifespan. I don't.. really care about anything else. As it is he's in danger of dying soon, so…"

"I assume that a twenty four hour extension-?"

"No. Any other ideas?"

"The yellow light is… Not entirely incompatible with the green. This.. Alan of Earth. Does he inspire great fear?" An image of 'Boss Scott' of Earth -14 appears in my mind. "If he is a warrior of great notoriety, it may be possible-."

"I don't think yellow is… His colour. What about blue?"

Kalmin frowns. "Hope? What use is hope? Hope is a poison, a trap for the spirit. It encourages gormless passivity rather than action. What is the value in hope?"

"You mean, like a whole series of Qwardian leaders hoping that they'd be the ones to break into the Golden Obelisk and so causing your civilisation to develop technologically and imperialistically?"

"That…" His frown deepens. "I don't think that was hope."

"Or you yourself. You could have just walked into Krama Dhu with a quarrel of qwa-bolts and forced Varnathon to either kill you or be killed and replaced. I don't think that you were staying at home because you were afraid, so what was it? Was it a wish that something else would happen, some honourable option that you hoped existed but could not see for yourself? How many years did that keep you going?"

His frown deepens further. "Hmm."

"Fear might drive people, but hope causes them to drive themselves on. And they're generally happier about it than they are about being afraid. Are you telling me you can't see a use for that sort of ability?"

Slowly, he starts to smile. "What a novel idea. You might be on to something, alien. I'll start looking into it at once."

 

[Mr Zoat]

23rd August
12:33 GMT

"Controller Hin-."

"Ah, my Illustres!" Hinon beams as she sees me. "I understand that we're playing host to a Qwardian Weaponer now."

"Yes, I-."

"I wanted to check, because I had been under the impression that you were going to cooperate on an arrest with Lantern Gardner. Was I mistaken?"

"No, b-."

"You are aware that the Qwardians served as the Anti-Monitor's army during the Great Crisis, yes?"

"Yes, b-." I frown. "Wait, how do you-?"

"Did you know that I fought him directly myself? By my reckoning I came to within a nanometre of being snuffed out and having retroactively never existed. So please understand that I'm less than pleased about this."

"It was-."

"And now Dox tells me that you're going to Oa." She sighs. "The Guardians. Really. You thought that was a good idea?"

I wait a moment, in order to see if she's finished this time. Nothing. Okay. "Would y-?"

"And this Ragnar fellow. Is there some rational reason why we're also playing host to a serial killer of the less impersonal variety?"

"Is there-?"

"What exactly does he bring-?"

My rings flare as the Scold's Bridle construct appears over her head. "Do you intend to let me answer your questions at any point?"

She gives me a decidedly unimpressed look.

"In the order in which you asked them. I have invited former Chief Weaponer Kalmin to join the Corps. Under the agreement you signed on behalf of the Controllers, I have the authority to do that. Removing the 'wild' Orange Lantern from his homeworld was a simple matter. Taking him on a mission to Qward -which was something Guy agreed to quite eagerly, the Guardians do like to keep an eye on the place- allowed me to get a better sense of how he behaves, to earn his loyalty and allowed Lantern Tui to investigate his past conduct. I was fully aware of the Qwardian people's loyalty to the Anti-Monitor, though I should inform you that it's nothing like uniform. But the Anti-Monitor hasn't been seen for quite some time, and if he does then we're in a rather better position to find out about it than Kalmin is. I will want to talk to you about the Crisis later. Kalmin is a dangerous individual, but he's nothing like as dangerous as the Anti-Monitor. I have some rather pointed questions to ask the Guardians myself, and the last thing they're going to want is for me to inform their Corps what really happened to depopulate Sector Six Six Six. As such, I imagine they'll make an effort to be cordial and in the interests of future cooperation I will return the favour. Ragnar has demonstrated the ability to use an orange power ring in combat. He isn't an.. ideal candidate, but he's capable and sane after two months."

We stare at each other for a moment, then I allow the construct to evaporate.

She flexes her facial muscles for a moment. "Well."

"Ask an uncivil question, get an uncivil answer."

She frowns slightly. "I couldn't break your construct."

"I wouldn't be much use as an Illustres if just anyone could break my constructs."

"Eckhc-cuh!" She looks indignant. "Anyone? Do I need to remind you who made that ring?"

I raise my right hand. "Krona? No, I hadn't forgotten. Do you think it's likely to come up?"

Her eyes narrow. "Paul, this is serious. The Guardians may react extremely badly to a mortal with a command of the spectrum quite as good as you have."

"Guy decided to be open with them after the confrontation with Oceanus. He briefly used his higher order abilities on Qward, and I'm sure that he'll include that in his report. I'm more worried about him than I am about me. Besides, if they didn't want Humans being good at spectrum manipulation then they shouldn't have…" I spread out the four fingers of my right hand one way and the three longer fingers of my left the other.

"Do you know what happened to the last place they did that to?"

Nothing that I remember from the comics, but on the basis that Earth was referred to as the Fifth World… "Split in two, becoming Apokolips and New Genesis. The one before that… It's basically abandoned, with the last few inhabitants keeping tabs on Mageddon, isn't it?"

"And the one before that? And the one before that?"

"I… Destroyed..? I assume..?"

She looks away for a moment. "It's something of a relief to learn that you don't know everything. I am older than your world's gods, and some of the things I have seen in my time…" She smiles unhappily up at me. "Though I suppose you've got that to look forward to." She reaches up slightly and straightens my robes. "The Guardians are good people, but they weren't good at.. flowing with the circumstances before, and I doubt that they've gotten better since. They.. were friends and colleagues. Now… I'm not sure who they are. Just don't get yourself stuck in a sciencell."

I bring my hands to my chest, trapping hers between them and my chest. "I'll do my best. Thank you for your concern." She nods, not trying to pull her hands away. "You're not angling for an invitation, are you?"

"No."

"Because-."

"Don't worry, I'm not. I don't think that one of us being there would make things any better. You're not going to Zamaron as well, are you?"

"You said that you wanted me to talk to Nadia Safir-."

"I think… Put that on hold?"

I nod. "It's on hold."

"And I'm pretending not to notice that you didn't mention the redoubtable Mister Alan Scott when you were explaining to me why Kalmin is here."

"I appreciate that. And I'm pretending not to notice that you haven't agreed to tell me about the Crisis yet."

"Pray I never have to."

"No!" She snatches her hands back. "I worship a goddess of chaos. Praying to her about something like that is the worst thing to do!"

Hinon squeezes her eyes closed and turns away. "Oh… Shoo, you tiresome man. Tell Dennap she has my blessing to keep you in the sciencells for a few weeks."

"I'll be sure to do that!"

She half looks back, then waves her right hand irritably. I think I'm dismissed.

Alright then. Onwards to Oa.

 

[Mr Zoat]

23rd August
15:57 GMT

Prince Stentar looks up from his books as a servant leads me into his study. "Illustres. I appreciate you taking the time to visit me."

I perform a shallow bow. "It's the least I could do, your highness, after what I did to your brother."

He slams the weathered tome shut, then shakes his head as he stands. "My brother did that to himself. I know for a fact that he would be quite irritated if anyone else claimed credit for the man he has made himself. Save for Sinestro, perhaps." He walks out from behind his desk and approaches me. "Rather, I am grateful to you for bringing these matters to light and giving him useful work he can perform as penance."

"I honestly don't think that he sees it as penance."

He shrugs. "So long as he can hide his enjoyment should he return to this Sector."

"Thank you for your appreciation, but I'm afraid that you don't know the whole story."

"Hah! My study is a poor place for such tales of battle as one such as you must be able to tell!" He turns to the door. "Server! Two mugs of Gnuurgah!" He turns back, and catches the look of discomfort on my face. "Did you think that my younger brother was unique in our culture? No, no, if the rest of us were as staid as the Korugari then his duelling would not have been tolerated." He collapses back into a well-cushioned chair and gestures for me to do the same in the one opposite. "Ragnar takes the martial excellence that our aristocracy prizes to its extreme. He causes problems because he has never learned to balance that with the other virtues we try to possess." He leans forwards. "When we were younger, he would try to compete with me in every regard, in our.. studies, our exercises, in pleasing our father and… Our mother. But, I had two years on him. He was constantly frustrated. He told me later that he resolved to focus on one area, in the hope that in that one narrow field he could best me. And Sinestro visited the palace and that was that. Martial virtue was all he cared for."

A servant enters the room with a tray upon which sit two tankards filled with.. a grey frothy liquid. He holds the tray out between us and Prince Stentar grabs the tankard closest to him before waving it in my general direction. "Blood to the ground!"

I half-expected this, so I don't hesitate as I grab the other tankard and-.

Ring, what's the traditional local response?

Blood to the sky.

"Blood to the sky!"

He then raises his tankard to his lips and knocks back a third of its content. I match him, and…

I mean, it doesn't taste nice or anything, but I was expecting far worse based on the colouration alone.

He lowers his tankard and leans forward eagerly. "So, tell me: what is the story that I do not know?"

"It was a little under a year ago. A woman I'd bought a unique gun from was murdered a short time later, and the local police wanted a word. After demonstrating that it couldn't have been me, I ended up helping with the investigation. Myself and one of the detectives tracked the criminals to a warehouse on the waterfront. I had a peek inside, and saw a group of thugs, an infamous criminal and a man being held hostage. It was only after I breached the building that I discovered that I was being tricked: the criminal was an automaton with a built-in anti-Lantern weapon and the apparent hostage was both the mastermind and the bait."

"An anti-Lantern weapon? Do you live on some manner of lawless hell world?"

"Hehaha!" He shakes his head, not understanding. "If you're born on a hell world… How do you know? As far as you're concerned, it's just normal. My primitive ancestors once beat a Lantern to death with wooden sticks. We discovered a dozen ways to kill Kryptonians, generally regarded as being the most ridiculously overpowered species in the universe, after a couple of years. I personally killed the First of the Fallen, and it wasn't even in my dozen toughest fights."

"The First of-? You killed-?"

"But this particular weapon was telepathic. It worked by.. locking onto a mind and then turning down its capacity for coherent thought. Unlike super strength, using power rings requires a clear thought process and intense emotions. I beat down the thugs they threw at me to give the weapon time to work, then I collapsed, powerless, as their employer plucked the ring from my finger and took it for himself. He told the leader of his hirelings to give me a chance to talk my way out of the trap, then kill me if I failed."

"Clearly, you survived. Was the man a slow-witted dolt?"

"No, quite the contrary. Bane was actually quite intelligent. On the grounds that he was a mercenary, I offered him and his gang money. But he felt that killing me would open up future employment opportunities for him, and since I didn't have the cash on me he wasn't interested. And offering money to his men to free me didn't work: they were either too loyal or too afraid of him. But, I knew something he didn't. Something he'd wanted to know since he was a small boy. You see, he grew up in a prison. He was born there, his mother died there, and he eventually escaped after they tested a combat drug on him… But in all that time, he had no idea where his father was."

"I'd fought Bane before, and realised that I might fight him again in the future. So, I made a point of finding out everything about him that I could. And one of the things I discovered was his father's name and location. He checked the information, had an argument with the man he'd never met, then punched me unconscious. I woke up in an ambulance, while the man with my ring was attacking an ultra hi-tech weapon storage facility."

Prince Stentar is grinning. "How did you stop him?"

"Lantern Gardner got sent to fight him head on, but I really wanted to get my ring back. And orange rings are all about desire, as your brother demonstrated. I climbed to the top of a mountain over two thousand miles from him, raised my left hand-" I raise it. "-and called my ring back. It took a minute to arrive, but when it did?" I smile. "It brought the thief's finger with it."

"Hah!"

"Unfortunately, just as your brother managed to call his ring through interstellar space… My calling summoned rings from their resting place on Okaara. They flew out across space, and when I stopped calling… They went their own ways. And apparently, at least six of them came this way. And I very much doubt that your brother is going to be the last."

Stentar sobers a little. "I see."

"How is the.. political situation here? Ragnar's vassals-."

"Father has made it very clear that he doesn't intend to take advantage of the situation. Ragnar did increase father's political strength somewhat, and with Ragnar out of the picture it is unlikely that the throne will suffer from it in the longer term."

I nod. "If I can be of assistance in any way, let me know. The Green Lanterns can get a message to me."

"Thank you, but I believe that between myself and Lantern Dulok we can manage." He takes another swig of the Gnuurgah. "Where will you go next?"

"There was a Korugari I was trying to recruit. With one thing and another I got a bit distracted… But I think I'll visit there again before going anywhere else. After that, I've got an appointment with the Guardians on Oa."

"On Oa itself?" He exhales slowly. "At times like this, I can see why the purely martial life appeals to my brother so greatly. You must feel tremendously honoured."

"It's just the opening meeting for what will probably be a somewhat uncomfortable series of negotiations. I'm more excited about meeting some of the more experienced Green Lanterns."

"You have your favourites, I take it?"

"I've already met Lantern Medphyll and Lantern Chance, but I'm hoping that I'll bump into Lantern Rot Lop Fan or Lantern Kreon especially. I base a lot of my own techniques on methods he pioneered."

"Hah! You sound a little like my brother when you talk like that." Then I'm never talking like that again. "Of course, the one he admires most is Sinestro. What would happen if you met him?"

"Hopefully, we'd both have better things to do than fight. But I certainly don't expect to meet him on Oa of all places."

 

[Mr Zoat]

23rd August
19:19 GMT

O..kay… Assuming that Doctor Natu is a woman of routine and there hasn't been some sort of last second emergency, she should be here shortly. And -now that I'm equipped with a translator upgrade courtesy of Betrassus- I should be able to press my case a little.

"Is drink good?"

I mean, even with the upgrade it's not perfect or anything, but at least it's better calibrated to what a visiting merchant might reasonably have after spending this long in an area.

"It satisfies. I am appreciative."

Definitely not perfect, and I don't think that waiter was here last time I visited. High staff turnover or just changes in shift patterns?

"Tell me if you want anything else."

He smiles and walks over to another table. My goodness me, that was a normal sentence. And the drink does satisfy; I took the time to ask Lantern Tui for a few suggestions and I've found something that tastes like passion fruit juice. There'd be an export market for it on Earth if it wasn't for the exorbitant shipping rates. As it is, it might be worth me spending enough time around here to find out what environment it's best cultivated-.

"-not be here, identically to how he was not here-" Doctor Natu turns away from the older woman she came through the door with and looks around the café. She spots me at once and I raise my glass in greeting. "-last.. time."

"That is your alien hook-up? I hoped that he would be stranger."

Doctor Natu tears her eyes away from me. "He is not-."

"Physically."

"Yes, I understood what you meant. And I hope that his translator is still too bad to-" I smile slightly, shaking my head. "-understand…" She starts to look around for another table, but her friend takes hold of her left arm and gently tugs her in my direction. Doctor Natu half-resists for a moment, then yields to the inevitable and allows herself to be led over.

Ugh. Inconsiderate real universe: giving someone I want to recruit emotional relationships with NPCs. Like they're a real person or something, with friends and a life that goes on when they're not in view of the reader. Stupid non-comic book comic book universe.

"So, you are an alien warlord?" The other woman smiles, leaning forwards across the table. "What is that like?"

"I am not precisely a warlord-."

"A headhunter who sometimes kills people while leading an army."

"It is a technique. It is not an occupation on its own."

Doctor Natu blinks, looking me over. "Your translator has been improved."

"I spent time on planet Betrassus. I bought an improvement."

The older woman grins. "Kill anyone?"

I shake my head, smiling. "Not on planet Betrassus."

"I assert that they have a duelling tradition-."

"Nakkoa, just… Please, stop."

"This is the closest you have been to a-." I don't quite catch what Doctor Natu's right hand does that cuts her friend off, but it appears to be effective. The two of them share a look before Doctor Natu turns her attention to me.

"I mentioned our conversation to some friends at the hospital. They have convinced themselves that you are the most interesting thing happening in my life."

"They think I am more interesting than brain surgery? That surprises me. We only spoke once."

"You try telling them that."

"Okay." I turn to 'Nakkoa', who is probably something at the hospital. "Ms Nakkoa, I am not at all amorously interested in the intelligent and attractive Doctor Natu."

"Pfnnnnnnnnngh." Ms Nakkoa makes a quiet snort-laugh noise, petering off into a grin as Doctor Natu sighs.

"I hope that was a joke; I was not even sure I wanted to talk to you again. What you told me last time was not funny."

"Good. I would be worried if you had found it funny."

"Recruited anyone interesting since last time?"

I nod. "A plant that covers the surface of an entire planet. An engineer made out of anti-matter. Pseudo-insects from a species with seven sexes. Prince Ragnar of Betrassus. Have you operated on any interesting brains since-?"

"A whole planet?" / "Seven-?"

"Sentient planets do exist, though they are rare. Speaking with one was an interesting experience. Physically, they have little in common with humanoids. She senses gravity and electromagnetic fields as you and I do pressure and light." Their faces relax slightly as they try to picture the being I'm describing. "The first time she encountered another intelligent mind, she found pain to be so abhorrent that she learned to turn parts of herself into emergency hospice systems, and the telepathic node network which runs throughout her body allows her to communicate with all parts of her body with almost no lag."

Doctor Natu blinks. "That is-."

"And she keeps her world surrounded by corpses, millions of bodies floating in local space so that she'll always have enough to eat."

Ms Nakkoa pulls a face. "She eats corpses?"

"She cannot live by geothermal and solar power alone." She's actually taking steps to reduce her total volume, using her ring to increase her understanding of the bioengineering she had been doing instinctively. "Corpses lost in deep space are not useful to anyone."

"Wait." Doctor Natu appears to believe that she's seen a wrinkle in my story. "If she is a planet, how did you recruit her? Are you going to build on her?"

"No. I got to sit on her surface while she used her gravity manipulation to move faster than light. Half-visible stars beyond her atmosphere flashing past as we flew. The universe is a wonderful place." I smile. "How is the hospital?"

"Ahh…" Doctor Natu shrugs. "Our hospital is fine. The hospitals in the poorer districts are getting starved of funds to make sure of it."

"I do not know how medical provision works on Korugar. Do you use an insurance-based model, or is provision universal?"

"In theory, it is universal. But some places are more universal than others."

"I had assumed that the purpose of the form of debt bondage you labour under was to compel you to select less desirable work locations. Was that not true?"

Ms Nakkoa rolls her eyes. "Why would the politicians controlling our funding put the best doctors in places they do not use? Medical students on study-grants go through the same assessments as everyone else. It works out better that way for the system, because they have trouble leaving wherever they are put." She leans back slightly as the waiter returns. "But I don't talk to alien warlords to hear about my problems. I want to hear how it works with seven sexes."

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th August
02:45 GMT

It's very… Green.

The Sto-Oa system is either a bizarre anomaly, or the Guardians did more than a little housekeeping when they moved in. Aside from Sto-Oa and Oa itself, there's nothing here. No other planets, no asteroids, not even dust. And as we're technically in interstellar space here, there's a whole arc of space where there aren't any stars. It's actually a little disturbing to look at, like there's a place in space you could fall out of.

Sto-Oa itself is an orange dwarf star and Oa orbits it far more closely than Earth does Sol. From where I am, if I block my empathic vision the result is that the side of Oa closest to it looks purple while the side facing away is purely green. The purple side is darker, making it look like night happens when the sun is in the sky.

But when my empathic vision is active? Solid green. So solid that it obscures Sto-Oa, obscures space, even obscures the individual light sources on the planet. I thought that the Guardians or.. maybe even Guy would stand out. They don't. I couldn't even say for certain that they're down there.

Another flicker of green draws my attention, and I take the opportunity to turn away from the planet to look at it. It's a Green Lantern, an elfin-looking woman with a complicated arrangement of pink hair trailing behind her as she flies back to Oa. Must be glad to have a power ring; there's no way that hair would stay tangle-free without a protective environmental shield keeping the strands apart.

I don't think she's seen me. I'm not.. glowing that brightly, and most Lanterns don't have empathic vision. I'm sure that the Guardians have…

Heh. For a moment I consider dropping a cloud of dust, purely for the mischief value. No. Bad Lantern.

"Orange Tw-." Ah. No, I'm not, am I? "Orange Illustres to Honour Guard Guy Gardner." I watch my ring for a moment. "Guy? Come on, you invited me."

I cross my legs, relax my muscles and stare at my ring's sigil for a moment.

Have the… Gits blocked me again..?

Ugh. Okay, what do I do? I could just throw my arms wide, create a massive orange sigil and wait for someone to pick me up. How many Green Lanterns are there down there? Probably not that many. Green Lanterns generally stick to their Sectors. Honour Guard Lanterns generally have enough to keep themselves busy… Wonder if they've attacked Colu yet? Anyway, there'll probably be a few around, plus any rookies who are still undergoing basic training. If Lantern Savenlovich is being mentored then she probably isn't, but according to the data I took from John's ring there could be anything from four to twelve rookies down there. That's the normal range due to deaths in the line, resignations and retirements, and outside major wars it's pretty consistent. Guy said that the Guardians had approved shoot-to-kill on Qwardian officers, but they waited for me to handle Ragnar. And I have an invitation. They're not going to freak out if I fly down there, are they?

I switch to a standing position and accelerate towards Oa, space bending around me as I do so. John's map showed the Green Central Power Battery being over there, along the dawn line. Certainly, there seem to be a lot more buildings around there. Actually, it's interesting exactly how much of Oa isn't built on. With such a small population I suppose that -unlike on the heavily populated Maltus- there's no need for extensive structures. There are.. green light.. nodes of some kind..? Probably there to act as a relay for a shielding system. Still… Far more buildings than they need. Do they date from a time when there were more Guardians? The Guardians certainly strike me as a people who wouldn't destroy something just because they didn't need it any longer. They still use Manhunters, for goodness sake.

During major wars, far more Lanterns than normal would be stationed here, and they'd need to use more of the buildings than are routinely occupied. Then there's diplomatic visitors… Do they do prisoner rehabilitation? Are there.. work release programs? I realise that Hinon probably mentioned it as a joke, but I am going to ask Dennap if she actually wants me to. Just so I can see the look on Hinon's face when I tell her that I did.

I reduce my warp effect as I fall through Oa's atmosphere, keeping myself subsonic. No sense in creating a racket or anything. I turn my empathic vision up a little, and I'm now close enough to see the strands… Huh. Yes, those near-cuboid structures contain powerful green light focuses. More than that, I can see strands of green light forming links through the air. It's fascinating… Buuut perhaps I shouldn't fly near them while I'm only grudgingly allowed here. Instead-.

Ah! Green Lanterns over there. A group of five, and they're heading this way. Hopefully, that's my escort. I head a little further away from the green structures and descend further until I'm only ten metres or so off the ground. Quick check of my robes, yep, not naked…

Huh, they don't have the green sigil on their-.

The first green pulse hits me in the chest as I begin to realise what's happened. These are- construct armour, power armour- rookies and they've somehow gotten away from their tutor. Further green pulses strike my armour, with even more missing me and blowing small craters in the ground below us.

I fly sideways, making sure that I keep facing the approaching Greenies. I don't recognise three of them, but the Xudarian… No, Tomar-Re's older. Pass. The blonde with the yellow skin is almost certainly Arisia Rrab, so no jokes about Rrab life insurance costs or life expectancy… Construct megaphone.

"Could we possibly talk about this?"

The Jem'Hadar-looking one at the rear of the pack generates a construct torpedo and fires it in my direction.

"I have an invitation!"

I swerve in the air, still facing them as they try to close the distance. The torpedo construct follows me as the bolts start to seriously abrade my construct armour.

Right! Had enough. I've tried reasonable, and now it's time to put these raucous rookies down with the minimal level of force practical. If the Guardians wanted them to stay in pristine condition, they should have put reins on them.

I stop in the air and stick out my left arm, catching the construct torpedo by the bow cap and tossing it aside. It explodes a moment later, light and… Far less force than when John throws constructs like that around, actually.

Green Greenies, right.

I generate a shield in front of me bearing the orange sigil and I stop retreating, allowing them to close the distance. Their energy pulses slam into it accurately enough, though I'm sure that if it were me shooting like that Christopher would be patting me on the shoulder and referring to me as 'son'.

"Get over here."

An orange construct x-clamp on a chain shoots around my shield and flashes across the space between me and a Lantern who looks a little like a sea anemone and closes around… His..? Torso before dragging him back to me.

"Agh!"

"Blob-blob!"

I drag him to a halt next to me and grab him with my right hand, his environmental shield shimmering and buckling around mine.

Corrupt.

And gone. He drops slightly in the air as his ring's flight ability shuts down, then I extend my own around him.

"For future reference:-"

I extend my left hand, pulling his power ring from one of his tendrils-

"-if someone tries to talk to you?"

-before dropping him and letting him fall the three metres to the ground.

"LISTEN TO WHAT THEY'RE SAYING."

I jerk my shield forward, slamming into Ms Rrab and an eight-limbed cyborg insect of some kind and knocking them aside. The Xudarian and the Jem'Hadar look-alike with the tall head get construct clamped.

"Make this a lesson you only have to learn once, hm?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th August
02:52 GMT

"So." Five green rings hang from an orange loop in the air to my right as the five rookies glower up at me. "Who wants to tell me what you five did wrong?"

Lantern Rrab strains against the orange construct chains binding her. "You will not get away with this."

Amusingly, without power rings they can't actually talk to each other as they don't have a language in common.

"Get away with what? I was invited here. The only reason I came down this far away from the administration area is because with the communication bar in place I couldn't tell anyone I was here and I didn't want to frighten anyone." The three rookies with recognisable eyes widen them slightly, and the anemone's tendrils sag mournfully. "But it turned out alright; I'm practising my own Lantern training techniques and this could be a useful opportunity for me." I clap my hands together. "I will return the ring to each one of you who can identify one of your errors."

I did briefly consider putting one on myself and using it to contact someone, but I don't think that 'I beat up your newbies and took their stuff' is the way to go with this. Assuming that I even can activate non-orange rings these days. Have to ask someone here if they mind me testing that.

"We did not contact anyone when we identified a hostile." The grey-skinned humanoid sags further. "That was the first thing we should have done, in case something like this happened."

"Good answer." Now, which one-? I let the middle ring fall through my construct loop, letting it fall onto my right palm. I dismiss the chains binding him and raise my eyebrows. "All yours."

"Ah…"

"What?"

"Do you… Expect me to fight you for it?"

"No. But when I recruit someone, I make them call their ring from my hand. I know Green Lanterns can do the same thing." I move my right hand a little closer to him. "I'm not blocking you. Call it."

…

"Though, actually, you probably should look into non-ring weapons and defensive systems at some point."

"I… Don't know how to call my ring."

"Your ring selected you because you have the mental and spiritual characteristics which the Green Lantern Corps recruits for. You are already capable of calling it to you. Picture clearly in your mind the image of the ring flying from my palm and onto your finger. Focus on that, until the idea of anything else happening appears to be an impossibility. Will it to you."

That's a.. very approximate version of how Guy described the process to me when he got the hang of it. But if these rookies can actually generate constructs, it shouldn't be totally beyond them.

The grey humanoid stands and extends his right hand, eyes locked onto his ring. "Ring." A very weak shimmer of green light runs around its surface, then fades away again. "Ring." It wobbles slightly on my palm, then lies still again. He takes a deep breath, eyes locked on and staring. "Ring."

The ring rises off my palm-

"Remote activation detected."

-and flies onto his middle ringer, a wave of green light passing over him as his environmental shield reactivates. He smiles for a second, then turns to his colleagues and fires an energy pulse at the construct chains around them.

"No!" The chain isn't damaged much by his attack, but I stick an orange construct plate between him and his colleagues. "What did you just tell me you should have done when you found me?"

"Lantern-. Lantern Maestran to Lantern Kilowog, come in sir!"

Lantern Kilowog's face appears over his ring.

"Hey, kid. You keeping out of trouble?"

"Sir,-."

"Ah, hey, just so you know: there's an orange Lantern coming to Oa sometime soon. Guardians want to talk to him. I'd have told you earlier, but Lantern Gardner only just got around to telling me. So: what you up to?"

He kno-ows.

"Daaaah." He looks at me, his colleagues and then back at Kilowog. "Practice, sir?"

"Ah, I'm just messing with you. I watched you all getting your creggocks handed to you. Hey, orange guy." Lantern Maestran's ring glows brightly for a moment, then a life size Kilowog construct steps out.

"Honour Guard Lantern Kilowog." I perform a shallow bow. "An honour to meet you. Guy has spoken fondly of his time under your tutelage."

"Heh. Guardians figured if I could teach him I could teach anyone."

"I apologise for disrupting your class."

The construct image folds its arms. "Think these poozers might learn more this way." He wheels to face those still bound. "He's still waiting for your answer! What should you have done?!"

No immediate responses.

"Rookie Rrab? Any idea?"

Her eyes move from Kilowog to me. "We… We should have identified our target more carefully."

I nod. "I know you have files on me. I read Lantern Stewart's when I stole his ring. That would have told you that it was unlikely that I was going to attack you and that five to one odds weren't actually in your favour."

Another ring drops onto my right palm as her bonds fade. "Call it to you."

The stare with which she fixes her ring looks more constipated than focused, but I'll let her work at it.

"Sorry, don't know what the rest of you are called. Any more guesses?"

The cyborg insect waggles its middle legs. "Tactically. All adopting the same technique. All approaching from the same direction. All approaching at the same time. All were errors."

"Correct."

Its bonds fade and its ring joins Lantern Rrab's.

"Come on, you're all missing the easy one."

The anemone's tendrils suddenly come erect. "We should have attempted to communicate with you in advance of attacking."

"Half marks, given that I told you that. Why?"

"To prevent shameful misunderstandings like this."

"Nearly, but not quite. Try ag-."

"Because we're police officers!" Lantern Rrab's ring flies to her finger. "We stop crimes and arrest criminals. We're not supposed to just go around shooting people because they look suspicious. That's supposed to be a last resort."

I nod. "Well done, Lantern Rrab." She smiles. "Try to remember that in advance next time." She stops smiling. "Who else wants their ring back?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th August
02:58 GMT

"...why you poozers thought attacking him-" There's a half second pause as Lantern Kilowog takes a breath. "-was a good idea in the first place, when you were supposed to be training!"

I see a thin strand of spittle drip down Maestran's face. Lantern Kilowog's mouth structure doesn't really lend itself to precise control. The rookie doesn't react, other than to unconsciously lean away from his towering instructor slightly. Kilowog is a big guy, and now that he's here in the flesh he's all the more imposing.

"This is Oa! Things don't happen here without the Guardians knowing about it, and if they had a problem they'd be sending the Honour Guard to deal with it!" He paces down the line of recruits, arms behind his back and clearly unimpressed with what just took place. "You rookies would be called back to the citadel to wait it out!"

"Lantern Kilowog-."

He wheels towards me. "And what did you think you were doing, coming here unescorted?"

I shrug. "I told Lantern Gardner that I'd need a day or so, he said that was fine. I tried to make contact when I got into the system, but apparently I'm still barred from communicating with members of the Green Lantern Corps."

Kilowog wrinkles his nose. And Bolovaxians have a lot of nose to wrinkle. "Gardner didn't turn that off?"

I raise my left ring to my left ear. "Illustres to Kilowog."

Nothing happens.

Kilowog snorts. "Guess I didn't beat the stupid out of him hard enough, either." He lowers his arms to his sides, then raises his right hand to his face. "Let me just see if there's-. Oh."

"What?"

He lowers his hand, the lights from his ring fading. "Standing order from the Guardians. Communications block stays up until you meet them."

"Tremendously helpful of them. Are they ready for me now..?"

"No, they're debriefing Lantern Venizz. I'll tell you when. Alright!" Kilowog turns back to the recruits. "One lap around the planet. First one back gets twenty push-ups."

"Query. First one back?"

"Everyone else gets forty."

The cyber insect turns to see that all of its companions have already started their lap, and hurries to follow them.

Kilowog and I watch them go. "Eh, we were all that bad at it once."

"Were you?"

He glances sideways at me, then raises his left eyebro-. His left eye ridge. "Guy told me about the cake."

"Could you make a cake that big? Heck, I was making faster than light jumps and complex constructs on my first day." I smirk. "Want me to chivvy your recruits along a little? I imagine that a giant orange chomping mouth construct would do wonders for their concentration."

"Nah. I make them do this because repetition works. They need to learn to focus their minds through anger and tiredness and get the job done."

"You sure?"

"Teaching Lanterns is what I do. And if Gardner could make the Honour Guard less than a year after coming off medical leave, I don't think I'm doing too badly."

"I might have had a.. little something to do with that."

"Yeah, maybe. Teaching something makes you think about it in different ways from when you're being taught it yourself."

"Guy told you he taught me? Because… Green Lanterns habitually use side arms and railguns?"

"Alright, so maybe-."

"It only took me a few weeks to get most of the stuff you taught him out of his head so I could teach him how to do it properly." I smile.

Lantern Kilowog folds his arms across his chest. "Oh yeah?"

"I realise that at the entry level green rings are so limiting that Green Lanterns have to settle for just making whatever constructs they can… But I'd have thought that senior Lanterns would be able to do better. I mean, Guy got the hang of filaments for constructs eventually and I have to credit him with learning how to resist orange light infections quickly enough, but I can't really credit you with either."

Lantern Kilowog's eyes narrow slightly. "There some reason why you're trying to piss me off… Kid?"

"I'm used to sparring with Guy. He's pretty good, but I generally come out ahead. John's getting there, but he hasn't got as good as Guy or I yet. Jordan's a good guy, but he's falling behind as far as Lantern to Lantern combat is concerned. You're a… Longer term veteran. How long now?"

"Closer to forty years than thirty."

"There you go. So I certainly haven't fought the best the Green Lantern Corps has to offer. But the way I see it, if the man responsible for training isn't the best, he's certainly got to be up there. Assuming.. your… Illustres isn't available."

"No, Illustres Chaselon's usually pretty busy. So, what; you think I might be a challenge?"

"I think we'll force each other to think about Lantern-to-Lantern combat in ways neither of us have before. Hopefully. I mean, for me it's this or pick a fight with Sinestro… And I don't think he's a… Sparring sort of guy. Also, I'm a bit annoyed about your recruits attacking me and with the Guardians, and I.. may be taking it out on you slightly." I nod my head to the side. "Sorry about that."

"Do you think you can wait until they get back?"

I shrug. "I pretty much have to wait at the Guardians' pleasure, so… Sure? Unless a free range Orange Lantern appears in this Sector before then. Those take top priority."

He nods. "Here's what I'm thinking. I've been having the rookies train against each other and against me. They haven't really seen what experienced Lanterns can do yet. They haven't seen how people like-" I think that's a smile. "-me fight when we're being pushed."

"And you want to make it a lesson." I nod. "I approve. Though I do have a condition."

"Oh? What's that?"

"I'm training rookies of my own back on Maltus. Sometime -doesn't have to be soon- you turn up and we run a similar session there. So the first generation of Orange Lanterns can benefit from your experience as well."

Kilowog thinks about it for a moment, then nods in the affirmative. "Probably a good idea. I don't want you making the rest of us ring-slingers look bad."

"Though I'll warn you: for Orange Lanterns, the problem isn't getting the required level of focus to use the ring. It's staying sane enough to use it sensibly."

"Heh. I've outthought powerful guys before. You should be more worried about me making them think they picked the wrong Corps."

"Well. One of us is in for a rude awakening."

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th August
03:29 GMT

"Forty!"

Lantern Tu looks up hopefully from his pushed up position at where Kilowog glowers down at him, not daring to rise until he has specific approval.

"Get back in line, poozer. And try not to be so slow in future."

"Sir, yes sir!" Lantern Tu jumps to his feet, then steps back to fall in besides Lantern Blob-Blob. As with the Clickers on Maltus there's basically no way for the rest of us to say the pseudo-anemone's actual name, and daft as it sounds apparently that's the accepted stand-in.

"Alright, listen up!" Kilowog isn't pacing this time, just standing in front of them with his arms folded at his chest. "Like Rrab pointed out, the duty of a Lantern is to enforce the law! But sometimes that means you have to use force to get your point across, and sometimes you run into someone who can fight back. Part of my job is to prepare you for those situations. And since I got-" He glances my way, then returns his attention to his students. "-a volunteer, we're going to show you how you're supposed to handle that." He turns to face me, and opens his arms. "So what do you do?"

"Firstly, time allowing, study my opponent. What species are they? What equipment do they have? What weapons or armour? Are they wearing the colours of a group who might provide them with reinforcements? Immediately, or will I need to sleep with one eye open? In Kilowog's case, he's wearing an armour mesh covering his whole body, reinforced with heavy plates around his torso. The only weapon I can see is his power ring. However-" I stick out my right hand and take a cold gun out of subspace. "-that does not mean that he can't get other weapons very quickly."

I return the cold gun to subspace.

"The fact that his ring isn't glowing particularly brightly-" He corrects that at once. "-would have indicated that I had a window of opportunity to attack while his defences were weak. Remember, your environmental shield provides you with a basic level of protection all of the time, but it is not a flawless defence. In terms of local friendlies… We're on Oa. If this were a real fight I'd have to be prepared to deal with the Honour Guard garrison, and then the Guardians. I'd be looking to disengage and flee, rather than carry on fighting."

Actually… If this was a real confrontation I'd probably make an effort to kill Kilowog first, to reduce the risk of immediate pursuit. Sustained crumbler round fire to the head should do it…

"As for species, he's Bolovaxian. Slightly stronger and tougher than a standard pattern humanoid like myself, but not enough to make much difference in a power ring fight."

Kilowog snorts. "We'll see how much difference it makes."

"Yes." I rise slightly into the air and don my power armour. "We will. And of course it's worth noting that Bolovaxians -particularly those that have been away from home for a long time- have a rather easily exploitable weakness."

Kilowog folds his arms defiantly. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

"Bolovaxians share a constant empathic field, allowing them to share feelings and -to a degree- individual thoughts. Though not strictly speaking a group mind, they're fairly close. As a society, it binds them together in ways I find quite admirable. As individuals, it makes them vulnerable to telepathic attack as they're open to direct input but not really capable of fighting back against it. Lantern Kilowog has it far worse. As an Honour Guard Lantern, he rarely has the opportunity to return home. Assuming that he doesn't suppress his ability chemically, that means that after so long without input he is unusually sensitive."

I take a psi-shock grenade out of subspace and let it float in front of me. "This is a psi-shock grenade. It uses cloned neural tissue to create a telepathic surge. Against most people it's a slightly more effective flashbang. Against Lanterns, it usually disrupts their power ring usage, which can be fatal. Against people either trained for it or-" I tap my helmet. "-wearing psi-baffles, it does nothing at all. Against someone like Kilowog… It's dangerous enough that I'm not going to be using it."

I drop it to the ground.

"That's using information I got from an external examination. If you don't know all that, how do you find out? Lantern Tresh?" The cyborg insect.

"Assumption. Increase our data stores through prior study?"

Kilowog sticks his right arm out in my direction and scans me.

"No. You do that."

"Power rings aren't just effective weapons, they're tools, and most Lanterns use only a fraction of their full potential. Your ring's database is available to you all of the time, and if what you want isn't on there then it will relay the query to Oa and you'll have a response within moments. Kilowog now knows the limits and capacities of my armour, and he was also able to gather data on my physiology. To the best of my knowledge, my species doesn't have any particular weak points-"

"Oh, don't get me started."

"-but it never hurts to check. I would point out somewhat smugly that my species currently has four serving members of the Green Lantern Corps -two Honour Guard and two Sector Lanterns- as well as a fifth who'd be so good at it that the Guardians put him on the 'Do Not Recruit' list because they were worried that he'd make the rest of you look bad."

They have no idea who I'm talking about. Move on.

"Doing that also gives him any data the Corps has on me in particular. At which point, he should start looking to disengage."

"Yeah, because that's going to happen."

"Lantern Kilowog's bullishness aside, there are things that it's not a good idea to fight on your own. I had a go at fighting a Titan on Earth… I got hit by a rather large bolt of lightning and nearly died without achieving anything very much. But without the Ophidian's direct support-" And I'm not taking my lantern out anywhere near the 'Green Men'. "-he should be in my weight class."

"All that and more."

"So let's test it out." I generate construct armour. "Lantern Kilowog and I will endeavour to provide you with commentary, an explanation of what we're doing and why. Since I'm still under a communication block, you'll have to listen to me on long wave radio rather than ring-to-ring, but that's the best I can do." Their rings gleam as I fly to minimum safe distance. "Lantern Kilowog, on your signal."

Kilowog's ring glows brilliantly as opaque green construct plates cover his body.

"Ready whenever you are."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Completely sure? I don't want you to claim-"

I remote detonate the psi-shock grenade.

"-I cheated."

Kilowog's armour crumbles across most of his body and he collapses to his knees, clutching at his head.

"That's a good starting lesson. The aim is to take your opponent down. Whole if you can, in pieces if you can't. It isn't to score points or give them a sporting chance. You serve the law, not your personal honour code. And now I'm going to back off a way, because I think I just gave Kilowog a-"

His eyes come up and they look decidedly unfriendly.

"-really good motivation to beat me to a pulp."

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th August
03:33 GMT

His transition jammer comes up immediately, and from the volley of energy pulses that fly in my direction I think that my assessment of his mental state is correct. All respect to the man for staying so focused, but I'm glad that I started heading away from him at speed the moment I finished talking because those things aren't weak little rookie energy pulses. No, these things have to be twenty centimetres across each.

Ring, scan and auto-dodge.

Compliance.

Fortunately for me, energy packets like that don't have any homing capacity and while they are fast, they aren't faster than light. I jink around as they fly past me, not daring to let them get too close. I could phase, but I know that it's possible to affect phased objects with a power ring and if anyone's learned how to do that it's Kilowog.

"…expect to actually hit him like this, it's about keeping him off balance while I close the distance."

I smile. "Guess we're both on long wave, then. Okay, we're both warping space to move faster than our ring-flight would usually allow. I'm not using a scramjet construct to go faster because it would impede my ability to dodge. He's not using one… Probably because I'm not. No point wasting power. For those of you who weren't paying attention, I'm wearing two rings, giving me slightly under twice as much power as Lantern Kilowog. As such, a viable strategy would be to outlast him and attack him when he tries to recharge."

I drop a communication drone out of subspace, then form a simple green laser construct and three railguns. The laser I fire at Kilowog's eyes. It's not powerful enough to cause serious harm, but it does distract him for a moment as he instinctively jerks his head away. That means that the volley of crumbler rounds that slams into him a half-second later goes unanswered and unevaded. The first two shots hit him in the chest armour and left shoulder, but the series that come next hit my actual target: the transition jammer construct. The moment it goes down I transition across the system, drop another drone, transition again, drop another drone, transition back to where I was a moment before and then finally transition to the far side of Sto-Oa. Then I drop my construct armour, go invisible and fly as fast as I can down from Oa's orbital plane using my armour's flight system.

"Lasers are intense beams of light. Since you can see through your environmental shields, you're obviously able to shoot through them with lasers. That's why my armour shows me my environment using sensors rather than risk exposing any part of me to shots like that. Since Lantern Kilowog clearly prefers close quarters fights, I used the distraction my laser provided to destroy the thing preventing me doing a simple FTL transition and then got away. Lantern Kilowog?"

There's a momentary pause.

"Normally, that wouldn't be much of a problem. Power rings are great at tracking things through space. Multiple transitions are harder to track, especially if they use some kind of sensor masking. Over the area of a single star system it's pretty easy to scan for a single object if you can define exactly what it is you're looking for. Except in this case, I know Orange Lantern got magic protection against general ring scans. And that means I've got to find him the hard way. You listening, Orange?"

My communication drones use bleed fracture pulse receivers, paired to the one in my armour. They can also receive and transmit in long wave and by laser, but given the distances involved either would require substantial delays.

"Naturally."

"Communication signals can generally be tracked, too. And so can power ring scans. Orange Lantern had to put out communication drones so he could keep talking without me immediately being able to find him. His armour also has stealth systems and a separate flight system not dependent on his power ring."

"Rings."

Glowing green spatial charges appear all around me!

"Gesundheit."

Armourarmourarmour!

My construct armour reappears just as the charges detonate, blasts of green light and distorted gravity slamming into me from all directions. Through the fury of it I turn up my empathic vision and try to spot-. There he is. I don't know how he realised where I was, but-. The mines clear as another series of energy pulses comes at me. And… I'd have to want to destroy him to match them, and I don't.

Warp.

Compliance. Warning: high energy drain.

And I'm gone, the intense green dot that marks Lantern Kilowog disappearing into the distance as I drop what's left of my construct armour and go invisible once more.

"Which is pretty clever, but doesn't help if I physically interface with the drones and use that to get your position. Go on, say something."

I fire a communication laser shot at the nearest drone. "Well done."

Ugh. Bit of a waste of time, it'll take minutes to get there. But it does make me feel like I'm participating in the discussion.

"So… Are you actually planning on fighting me, or is this strictly an evasion exercise?"

Alright, he can't directly detect me, but I am going to need to confront him. And an Orange Lantern trying to bludgeon someone they don't want to hurt is going to be at a disadvantage. What to do, what to do?

I take another drone out of subspace and set it to transmit on a delay. Then I change direction, sending the drone back towards Oa while I move further around the planet's orbital plane. I wait three seconds, then take psi-shock grenades out of subspace and start sending them after the drone. Then I accelerate and take a small physical railgun out of subspace.

"I suppose that we may as well bring things to a head. I should warn you-"

The green blip moves closer, and I rapidly fire the railgun in the direction of the drone.

"-that I fight at a far higher speed than most human-"

Close enough. A field of spatial charges appears around the drone and I detonate the grenades.

"What, you thought that would work twice?"

Direct transmission from me. "No. Did you?"

Okay, if he's there, then judging by the angle and speed of my railgun shots…

"Ugh."

As much as I could hope for. I raise my hands and point them at the green blob as at least one of the railgun rounds I fired along his flight path hits home. Hopefully enough to pierce his armour and distract him. Medphyll wouldn't teach me how to control plants like he does. And to be fair, he probably didn't know how to. But with observation, meditation and experimentation…

All Things Strive.

And Kilowog's in my face, his active sensors flashing out and piercing my invisibility system. He's actually past me when he detects me, but I see in slow motion as he forms a hammer construct and has his ring swing it at me while he turns around.

I fly to evade, my own construct armour reappearing and two small railguns forming. The hammer is barely half way to me when the crumbler round hits it and causes it to collapse. Kilowog finishes his turn, construct scatterguns pelting my construct armour with pulses of green light. I generate a construct shield as my armour starts failing.

"Pretty sure you've lost, Kilowog."

One of his scatter guns disappears as he takes a neural impacter out of subspace. "Pretty sure I haven't. I was saving this for Sinestro, but I guess you'll do for a… A triaoouhuhhah."

"Sorry? Didn't catch that."

I fire another volley of crumbler rounds in his direction as I stop backing up. If this works as I think it does…

Kilowog stops trying to evade, the noises coming from him becoming increasingly unsettling.

I cease my attack, reinforcing my construct shield and armour. "Kilowog? If you don't respond coherently I'm calling myself the winner."

There's a flash of green as his constructs and armour evaporate and I see him spraying grey/green gunge from his mouth.

"Rookies, I just won. You're escorting me and Kilowog to the Green Lantern Corps' medical centre. Now."

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th August
03:52 GMT

The blue-grey skinned, feminine-looking humanoid turns away from the instruments surrounding Kilowog's bed and regard me for a moment. She..? Looks a bit like a cross between a Vedalken and a Kaminoan. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that the Green Lantern Corps has civilian support workers; the chance of a medical doctor specialising in xenobiology getting a ring in the first place must be astronomically small, and the odds of them ascending to the Honour Guard smaller still. And the Guardians are far too thin on the ground to handle it themselves.

"Explain to me what you did."

"I caused-."

"And the explanation had best be a good one."

I half-turn to see the rookie squad hurriedly giving Illustres Chaselon as much space as he wants. Unlike most of his species, his use of his ring's flight system allows him to use his mechadendrites purely for fine manipulation rather than for motion. The rest of his body is a large, round, multifaceted crystal with a.. really distracting… I don't want to call it a Mohican, but that's what it looks like.

So… This is the one non-Guardian on the planet I might not be able to take in a fight.

"Illustres Chaselon. Lantern Kilowog and I were sparring, as a demonstration for his class. I disabled him using a technique I cribbed from Lantern Medphyll: I caused the microscopic symbiotic plants in his digestive system to multiply far faster than they would naturally. That caused him extreme gastrointestinal upset, and also demonstrates that Medphyll deserves to be promoted."

"Both Jothra and Medphyll rejected promotion when it was offered to them. Neither could bear to leave their homeworld for the duration that would have been required."

"Oh. Okay."

"Doctor, will Lantern Kilowog-"

"Uouououououoghhhh…!"

Kilowog rears up, belches forth a wave of grey/green vomit and then collapses back again onto his bed.

"-recover swiftly?"

"The Bolovaxian digestive system is surprisingly malleable. The drugs I have administered should neutralise the increased growth within an hour. Repairing the damage that has been inflicted on his digestive tract should be a simple matter after that."

"Thank you. I imagine that he will find this a valuable learning experience." He half-turns, facing the rookies. "Recruits. While your teacher is incapacitated, you are placed under the tutelage of Lantern Apros."

A clear wave of fear passes through the rookies. Why would-? Oh. Yeah. It looks like Apros likes to force his students to face their fears until they're not afraid of them any more. Which is apparently fine if you're an Honour Guard Lantern, but the one time I tried to do that to Jordan…

"You will find him in the refectory. Go there now."

There's an unhappy chorus of 'yes, sir' and they file out, Chaselon turning away and scanning Kilowog with his ring as they do so. "Can you hear me, Lantern Kilowog?"

"Uuuuugh…" Kilowog blinks, then tries to focus on Chaselon as a couple of drones float around him and disintegrate his vomit. "Yeah?"

"I do not remember this being in your lesson plan. Do you think it will feature there in future?"

"Yeah. Until I learn to beat it, sir."

"Correct answer."

"Um. Sorry, Kilowog."

"Ehhrr." He awkwardly waves his right hand in a dismissive motion. "Good fight."

"This should help." I fish a spell eater out of one of my pouches and place it gently on his chest before turning away and grinning at Chaselon. "So… What's next on the agenda? Do I get a tour of the place-?"

"The Guardians are ready to see you now. I will escort you-" He turns around and leads the way out of the medical ward. "-in order to ensure that you do not hospitalise any further members of my Corps along the way."

"Is Guy about? Because-" He takes off from a balcony, heading in the direction of the building housing the Green Central Power Battery. "-him picking me up would have been-."

"Lantern Gardner slept through his alarm."

"Oh. Well, fair enough. Mistakes happen."

"He will meet us at the Guardians' chamber."

We fly out across the… I don't know what this city is called. And it is a city, even if it has occupancy levels usually seen in London property investment vehicles. I wonder what it feels like to live here, to be able to stroll along empty streets without seeing another soul. Eh, I suppose if I'd lived through one of the events which prompted it to have high occupancy I'd feel less inclined to complain.

"Are you the individual I talk to about getting Alan Scott taken off the 'Do Not Recruit' list? I don't know enough about Lantern Savenlovich to badmouth her, but Guy and Jordan getting promoted gave you a prime opportunity to bring a twenty-five year veteran into the fold."

"I do not set recruitment policy. The Guardians made their decision because they were concerned that his growing dependency on the green light was potentially dangerous."

"He's a ninety year old Human! He doesn't have much life left to gamble! Frankly, it's amazing that he's lasted this long."

"I did not mean 'dangerous for him'."

"Whatever. I'm just going to carry on telling everyone that you're afraid he'd be better than you."

"I suspect that you would do that regardless of what I told you."

"Not true. If you'd told me 'it was an oversight, I'm rescinding it now, bring him here right away', I'd never have repeated it again. Oh, is now a good time to mention that my second ring was made by Krona?"

"No."

Guy steps out from one of the outer columns supporting the portico of the Green Lantern Corps' citadel. In here is the Green Central Power Battery, and I can already feel it pressing against my environmental shield. Down below is the crypt in which those Green Lanterns whose death leaves a body may choose to be interred. It isn't actually that big a percentage, but over the millennia it's added up to a big number. Somewhere else in the complex is the famous Book of Oa, and the Guardian's reclusiam and probably their forge as well.

Oh, what fun. Ring, prepare the autoplagiarisers.

Unable to comply. Requested object does not exist.

Spoilsport.

"Hey Paul."

Yeah, Guy certainly sounds tired. Hopefully he won't need to say much.

"Good morning Guy. Now let's go see the Smurfs."

Guy closes his eyes, and quietly groans.

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th August
04:00 GMT

Guy stares at me with eyebrows raised. "You did what?"

I shrug as the three of us slowly fly through the corridors leading to the Guardians' chamber. Red banners decorated with the Green sigil hang from the ceiling and… Some sort of shrub runs along the floor at the sides of the walkway, breaking up the hard lines in an organic touch which surprises me a little.

"We thought that a demonstration of Lantern versus Lantern combat would be helpful for the recruits."

"I ain't arguin' about that. Jus' strugglin' t' believe you won."

"What, you never managed it?"

"Oh, sure. Right after I merged with Ion the first time, my constructs got a lot stronger an' he wasn't expecting it. But he wins a whole lot more'n I do." He looks expectantly at me for a moment. "So? How'd you do it?"

"I caused the microscopic plants in his digestive system to multiply very fast, causing disabling stomach pain and vomiting. And -I didn't check- but probably diarrhoea as well."

"Aw, that's jus' cheatin'. Since when can you control plants?"

"I can't. I can just make them grow a little bit. But… if you do that in someone's gut…"

Guy winces as we approach a large grey double door, mythologized scenes from Maltusian and Oan history carved into the surface. "Doesn't work on Humans, does it?"

I grin at him as Chaselon drifts ahead, his ring glimmering. A moment later the doors begin to swing open and I see Guy straighten up and brush down his uniform. I'm a little amused for a moment before I realise that I've unconsciously started to do the same thing. The Guardians of the Ga-. Fine, Universe. The beings I've been studiously avoiding contact with since I got here. The ancient and powerful beings I've actually gone out of my way to nose-tweak on more than a few occasions.

Should be fun.

Lantern Venizz floats out through the door, nodding to Illustres Chaselon as she passes. Guy and I get nothing more than a small frown before she switches to the swimmer pose and accelerates down the corridor away from us.

"She's got amazing hair. It must take ages to get it like that each morning."

"Yeah." He nods as she disappears around a corner. "Her ass ain't too bad, either."

I wince slightly as Chaselon turns to us. "The Guardians will see us now."

He then wheels towards the open doorway and flies on ahead. I fly after him, Guy following me a half-second later.

And… There they are. Blue skinned and white haired dwarves in red robes that are a lot less comedic when you see them in the flesh. Even with my empathic vision turned right down, the sheer intensity of the green light within them is.. quite uncomfortable. And I'm barely glowing at all any longer. They're floating about four metres up in an arc in a room whose interior is entirely disguised by what I assume are holographics. All around us, space, and in the distance, stars. And as the door closes behind us, space in that direction as well. I wonder if we're seeing anywhere in particular?

Ganthet nods politely in our direction, while next to him Sayd regards me with undisguised curiosity. Appa Ali Apsa actually smiles at us, and that's it as far as positive responses goes. Herupa Hando Hu, Pazu Pinder Pol and Ranakar are more neutral, adopting what I had assumed was the Guardian default mode for dealing with mortals: looking stern and sober but not actually aggressive. Dennap regards us with polite disinterest, Kontross looks at us like we're an undesirable chore and Broome Bon Baris looks like she's giving some serious thought to dissecting me.

And that's it. Nine survivors where once there were dozens. A few million years of fighting the good fight will do that to a people, and the Guardians have been doing it for far longer than that.

Chaselon and Guy float up to a point where the Guardians' feet are about level with their heads and stop, waiting to be addressed. I -having gawked at them for a moment- follow, coming to a halt slightly ahead of Chaselon and bowing from the waist.

"Guardians of the Universe. Greetings from Maltus." I straighten. "Thank you for agreeing to see me."

"It seemed only prudent." Herupa Hando Hu lowers his floating position slightly, bringing his head level with mine. "You have defeated Larfleeze and provided our former sister with his Central Power Battery."

"She did make my ring. My first one. It seemed like my best bet. I mean: be honest. What would you have done with it?"

Ganthet raises his left hand and an image of me carrying Larfleeze out of his caves appears in the air between us. "While your motives are apparent enough, we are still curious to know how you were even aware of its existence. We had thought that Larfleeze himself was the last person outside of the Guardians who knew of it."

Lie mode.

I reach into my robes and pull out a small box, then toss it underhand in his direction. He doesn't react as a green ball surrounds it and arrests its motion. "What is this?"

"Larfleeze made rings by using the orange 'Identity Theft' ability on people and then… Transforming them. I haven't tried that myself…" I point to the box which Sayd is now pulling in her direction. "The ring in that was made from Ogandu Onna Oslan. We don't know if it's possible to turn someone back… But I don't like the idea of having him with me, and I imagine that you would consider it to be a fairly large security breach."

There's a brief moment where the Guardians glance at each other. Probably having some sort of high speed green light conversation. Then Ganthet returns his full attention to me. "We appreciate you returning our brother to us." To his left, Sayd opens the box and holds her right hand towards the ring, her face a picture of distaste. "We will study what Larfleeze has done to him and see if it is possible to reverse it."

"I would be grateful if you could share your findings with the Controllers. Larfleeze transformed many people in that fashion, and I would like to return them all to flesh if at all possible."

Ranakar frowns slightly. "We Guardians are somewhat dissimilar to the mortals Larfleeze transformed. What can be applied to us can not necessarily be applied to other species."

Dennap nods. "Nonetheless, this piece of information sharing costs us little. I assume that Hinon Hee Hannanan will reciprocate?"

"Actually, I think… One of the others is working on that particular problem." And it was one of the ones who's weird about giving people his name, so I can't tell them. "But yes, we're happy to share."

Ganthet frowns slightly. "You did not answer my question. You informed Lantern Jordan that we had misled our Corps well before you visited the Vega Systems. How did you know of the existence of the Orange Central Power Battery?"

Only one way to answer that.

I shrug. "I'm afraid that's a piece of information I'm not prepared to share at this juncture. I understood that you wanted to discuss the practical aspects of our coexistence?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th August
04:17 GMT

"You intend to make war on the Reach." Inasmuch as his expression changes, Kontross looks unhappy at the news. Can it really be news at this point? It's not as if it was any sort of secret.

"The Controllers haven't made any secret of their ongoing confrontation with the Reach. And since you don't seem inclined to involve yourselves again, they're the… People on the spot."

"Do you have any idea how many people died when the Green Lantern Corps fought the Reach?"

"No. Nor do I particularly care." I shrug. "But if you want to tell me anyway, go ahead. More or less than when you went to war with Apokolips?"

"More. And over a far longer span of time. Unlike Apokolips, the Reach were only able to match the power Green Lanterns possess, but we were forced to engage them over a far larger front. How well do you think that your neophytes will fare against Scarab Warriors?"

"Pretty well? I'll wait until I have more experimental data to give you a firm answer, but based on my personal experience killing a Beetle isn't all that hard."

Broome Bon Baris frowns. "Your estimation of your strength does not match Lantern Tui's report to us after your shared training session."

"You mean, the training session which I ran. Where I was deliberately trying to avoid killing them." I look around the semicircle of Guardians. "I realise that you haven't had much to do with the non-green colours in a very long time, but you are aware that orange is the colour of avarice, yes? As in, the strength of my constructs is proportionate to how much I want something? And while I may make the occasional… Bantering comment, I do actually respect your Corps and I certainly don't want to kill or injure its members. On the other hand…"

I take a hologram generator out of subspace.

"Sorry, I… Don't know how to interface with this room's systems…"

I don't see any of the Guardians make a particular action, but the starscape fades slightly. I nod, then have the hologram generator show my attack on the Reach ship in orbit around Urrigen.

"On the other hand, when I really want something dead, when I really want it destroyed and I feel no hesitancy at all."

The hologram shows in real time me tearing the Reach ship apart.

Pazu Pinder Pol gives me a shallow nod. "That was not a Scarab Warrior. I do not believe that it was even a warship."

"True. This was, though."

The image shows my Praexis Demons swarm in, then me shooting Yellow Beetle and myself and Tarant killing her.

"Doesn't.. really seem that hard. Please, don't.. judge me by my weakest combat constructs. And don't assume that every big thing I did was the result of the Ophidian's influence. Heck, I'm sure that Guy's told you that Ragnar beat an Anti-Green Lantern one on one, and he'd had no formal training at all."

"The rings used by the Qwardian slaves are not perfectly designed to nullify your orange rings."

"I didn't say it was a master class of ring use. I just mean to say that when one of us is assigned to a task we really want to complete… Our rookies are -in that one endeavour- as powerful as your veterans." Out of the corner of my eye I see Guy's mouth start to open. "Powerful." I turn my head to look at him. "Not as skilled, or as good.. generally. Just 'as powerful'."

Ganthet looks uncomfortable. "At the cost of their sanity."

"And that's the focus of our training. But with our Central Power Battery up and running, I don't believe-" Several Guardians… They don't quite stiffen, but it's like they just heard something surprising in a conversation they were eavesdropping on. "-that it's an insurmountable problem." They do that 'looking-at-each-other-without-speaking' thing again. "Something you.. want to share..?"

"Mmpfh." Appa Ali Apsa floats forwards slightly and waves his hands. My hologram shuts down, being replaced by the translucent image of Lantern… Chip? The Squirrel-looking one. "Lantern Ch'p, report."

"Guardians, it was as you feared. The defence screen around New Berrith has been completely destroyed."

Um. Yeah. As much as I try to value all life, I don't really think that letting the Berrith slip into extinction would really give me much cause for disquiet. They're actually worse than the Citadelians and the Gordanians; brutal, savage and ruthless. Fortunately, they were such shits that even in a universe where the Reach and the Dominion have willing trading partners they couldn't make any allies at all. And they weren't so advanced that the local species couldn't fight them off. Eventually they drew the attention of the Guardians and got quarantined on their homeworld, an act of restraint which… It impresses me, though I'm not sure that I agree that it was a good choice.

Appa Ali Apsa nods. "And you're sure of the cause?"

His whiskers twitch. "Not.. completely, Guardian. The readings I'm getting from the debris of the satellite monitors shows that they were hit by powerful but conventional weapons. And some of the damage inflicted on the surface was caused by gravity disruptors."

"Aw, great."

"But the energy readings you mentioned?"

"Confirmed, Guardian. Avarice."

"Sounds like some more a' your lost rings jus' turned up."

"Yeah, wonderful. Lantern Ch'p? Can you tell if the orange ring users were attacking? The Berrith aren't exactly a popular people."

"I-." The image of his head turns. "Who are-?"

"The Illustres of the Orange Lantern Corps is here for negotiations. Please answer his question."

"I can't tell for certain, but I do know from personal experience that the Berrith respond well to strong displays of dominance. The shots targeted at the planet appear to have come close to large population centres without directly striking them. Given the number of them who have left, I suspect that whoever was shooting at the planet was simply making a point."

Probably not someone seeking revenge for an ancestral wrong, then. "Any idea how many? Desire strong enough to call an orange ring over long distances appears to draw more than one."

"I'm sorry, but I can't even tell for certain which shots were from weapons and which were from constructs. I can't detect any faster than light trail, so either they're very good at hiding themselves or they used a stealthed vessel of some kind." His head turns back around to face the Guardians. "The Berrith don't have the infrastructure to build further ships, and… I'm not sure that I could stop whatever did this by myself if it comes back. I am requesting assistance. At the very least, rebuilding the blockade to make sure that no one takes advantage of the Berrith's vulnerability."

"Guardians, I think I should look into this. It will be far easier for me to talk someone crazed on the orange light down, and I'm.. somewhat responsible for those rings being out in the wild in the first place."

Herupa Hando Hu nods. "We agree. Lantern Gardner."

"Sir."

"You will travel with him to Space Sector One Zero One Four and investigate. Take whatever follow up action you feel is appropriate." Guy nods. "And you, Orange Lantern,-"

Ch'p's head is replaced by an image of the planet someone just gouged chunks out of.

"-may wish to carefully consider the ongoing consequences of not dealing with these rings more promptly."

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th August
05:23 GMT

I grin, spreading my arms broadly as the Citadelians engaged in this hopeless last stand pour fire into my construct armour.

Hm. Sinestro, system check?

I have not started malfunctioning within the last five minutes, Corpsman. I assure you that if I do, you will be the first to know about it.

I slowly reach back with my right arm, my hand clasping around the grip of my new and improved daiklave. With nowhere to go the Citadelians can't even run.

And Ms Lysis hasn't left any… Little presents?

None. And I had your Mother Box perform a second check. I may have experienced a small degree of data loss, but it will not impede my core functions.

Ugh, my clothes are talking to each other. Horrible.

I heard that, Corpsman.

Two power armoured Citadelians run at me, disruptor mauls flickering with the discharge of electrons torn from their nuclei. I lunge and swing, my daiklave passing easily through each of them and sending the two halves of their now-dying bodies to the ground.

Good show.

The one on the right lost consciousness immediately, but the one on the left is at least somewhat aware as I stride past and swing the tip of my daiklave through the top of his armoured head.

"I'm not going away, Admiral! Your soldiers are dead and your suicide charges are inoperable! All this is doing is ensuring that you die tired!"

The Last Citadelian doesn't reply, though that may be because I wrecked internal commun-.

Ping!

That is because I wrecked internal communications. Still, I've checked nearly everywhere and there's really only one place left.

Ping.

True, but this is supposed to be a test of my use of the yellow light. If-.

Ping.

I plant my feet and pull back my left fist.

True, but you did hear me think yellow light, yes?

Ping.

Right then.

I swing my fist, the combination of fear and raw super strength utterly ruining both the doors and the wall they were attached to as they go flying across the room.

"…expect you to help me. I merely hope that you will take revenge." The Admiral makes momentary eye contact with me, then returns to whoever is on the other end of his communicator. "For your own sake."

"I do not concern myself with pretenders."

Oh. Oh dear.

I keep to the edge of the room, walking in an arc until I get the view screen in view.

I see Grayven at the same time as he sees me. I see a large man with grey skin, wearing a gold… Crown? Demi-crown? Micro-headdress? On his head. It's decorated with rubies, and… Some Apokoliptian designs. Not sure if those are functional, though. His face doesn't look much like mine at all, aside from the skin tone and texture. His chin is broader, and his nose has a distinct curve to it that mine lacks. His eyes appear to lack an iris, small glowing points of orange sitting on the white of his sclera. His hair -what I can see of it- has a mullet cut, while mine…

Okay, I've been letting it get a bit long at the back…

Not important. His armour is similar to mine, but dark purple in colour with gold tron lines where mine is dark grey with yellow lines. Over the top of that, he's got some sort of golden harness… I think it's decorative. Certainly doesn't.. look like anything I remember from Father Box's database. More rubies there too, as well on his non-power ring rings and on the cummerbund which appears to exist purely for the purpose of holding up his loincloth… Loincurtain?

What sort of idiot designed that ensemble?

With a little luck, all he sees back is 'yellow glow'. I certainly see his pupils move around as he takes me in. His lips purse very slightly.

"He's certainly armed like an Apokoliptian. But Apokoliptians generally don't obscure our faces when we fight."

His voice… Is actually quite a lot like mine. But he doesn't speak like I do. I've cultivated a classical English near-Received Pronunciation accent, and I generally try to speak in a relaxed mode. Even my insults are intended to sound like insulting jokes rather than threats. This… Grayven 16 I suppose I should call him. Everything I've heard him say is a threat. His tone is level and growly. I'd guess that our actual range is about the same, he just isn't using the rest of it. It's a little like how Father talks, only without the hints of self-satisfaction.

"This isn't a fight-" I stab the point of my daiklave through the Admiral's head, holding his corpse up at arm's length. "-Grayven. This is a consolidation."

"They were already a broken people. Their deaths will unify those they oppressed under you." He leans forward slightly. "Tell me, impostor: where did you get that equipment?"

"I made it myself, for the most part. Himon made my Mother Box-"

"Ping."

"-and Weaponer Kalmin and Controller Hinon… Which is a remarkably similar name now that I think about it. Made my power rings. Where did you get yours? And were they having a sale on gold?"

He leans forward slightly, his eyes narrowing and his pupils going from a mild glow to a flickering flaming look which envelops the rest of his eyes as well. Didn't.. comic Grayven have access to the Omega Effect? "Not an impostor, then. From where did Father get another?"

"Why worry about it? I'm doing fine, and you-" I look at the space behind him. The bridge of some sort of starship would be my guess… "-seem to be doing alright for yourself."

"Your very existence diminishes me. I do not share power."

"Well…" I extract my sword and clean it as the Admiral's body collapses. "Sometimes things don't go the way you want them to."

Mother Box, Sinestro, brace yourselves.

Ping.

"That's just the way that life-"

He twitches, visibly wincing, his eye-flames guttering.

"-is sometimes."

His expression changes for an instant into one of absolute rage, then the screen deactivates.

Huh.

That's going to be a problem.

Mother Box, any damage to the Anti-Life containment system?

Ping.

No, I wasn't planning to make a habit of doing that. And I realised that we'd probably run into each other at some point… I just wanted to imply that Father and I were on good terms and that coming after me now might pose a certain risk…

Ping.

No, he'd have checked. And I haven't been hiding myself; I'm in too many databases now. But what am I going to do about…

Ah. I'm… Going to need to talk to Father, aren't I?

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th August
05:42 GMT

"Mordor."

"Gesundheit."

I turn my head right, making eye contact with Guy as we float over New Berrith. "Did you know that Kilowog made the same joke?"

"Who you think taught it t' him?"

"But, Mordor, right." Guy shakes his head. "Lord of the Rings? Tolkien had a bit of a thing about pastoral idealism and so tried to portray the industrial revolution as absolutely hellish and miserable. The Orcs are the ones with industry, and they're described as the result of the setting's main villain using magic to corrupt Elves-."

"You going somewhere with this?"

"I love industry. Our ability to produce things quickly and cheaply has made everyone's lives better than they would be without it. But if I were going to make it look hellish-" I generate five construct images taken from the planet below. "-then I'd make it look like that."

They had spaceships. I'm.. struggling to understand why they appear to have generated power purely by coal burning. And forget environmental regulation, they've got chemical plants discharging waste everywhere. It's… A bit like how I imagine the really crappy parts of Apokolips are, but it's everywhere. And as far as I can tell their leaders live in the same sort of condition.

"I find it reassuring."

Guy and I both raise our eyebrows at the third member of our group.

"You wanna explain that?"

Ch'p shrugs, a rather small motion given his physical size. "If they had merely been badly led, then the enforced isolation to which the Guardians sentenced them might have been unnecessary. As it is, they have had the opportunity to mend their ways and have chosen not to. Even when they are only harming themselves, this is how they choose to live. This is just how they are." He folds his arms across his chest. "Isolation really was for the best."

"As.. opposed to some sort of re-education program?"

"You didn't do that for the Citadelians."

"I didn't have access to the resources that the Guardians do. Did. And according to your records-" I dismiss the images of surface industrialisation and replace them with an extract from the Green Lantern Corps' files on the Berrith. "-the Berrith didn't use mental conditioning technology and are reasonably intelligent."

"You actually looking for the-?"

"Yeah, I got nothing. I'm not any more sensitive to whatever it was they used power rings for around here than you and Lantern Ch'p."

"So? You don't have any problem with lethal force. Just call your rings back."

"That wouldn't tell us where a large number of members of an extremely aggressive species have gone, nor what ship they used to do it. And it would probably call all of them."

Guy nods. "'cause you don't know how many there are out there or who else has 'em."

"Exactly."

"An' you can't jus'… I dunno, pull the wearers along with 'em?"

"That may be possible, but if it is, I don't know how to."

"Okay, well…" Guy looks around at the space surrounding us. "Alla the worlds around here got panic buttons, so if anyone turns up who ain't supposed to we'll know about it."

"But if they're reasonably well motivated Lanterns they could be a very long way away by now."

"How long could they a' had the rings for? I mean, Ragnar could fight, but…"

"Ragnar comes from a society which focused on single combat between the warrior aristocracy for settling conflict. The Berrith are more inclined to mass combat, which means that even if we get to wherever they go before they can get away-"

"They're gunna kill a whole lotta people."

"And eat them."

"Say what?"

"The Berrith habitually eat the fallen."

"Lantern Chummuck does that."

"That's considered a sign of great respect in his culture. The Berrith just like the idea that they're eating someone they killed."

"You sure? Because-."

"Yes." Lantern Ch'p floats around so that he's in front of me. "They boasted about it during their last attack on my homeworld. We maintain archival recordings of it."

"Oh. Um. Well, as I see it we've got two options. The first would be going down and seeing if anyone knows anything. That would probably involve… Normally I'd say doing some environmental repairs to earn their favour-."

"Yeah, I don't think these're really the environmental type."

"The other option is that I try to find them through mysticism."

Guy nods. "That… Quintessential thing. Like you did with… The… Arrow kid." He frowns for a moment. "The guy arrow kid."

"I haven't really… Had time to practise yet, but in theory it should be possible for me to find someone via their desires far faster than scanning every mote of energy everywhere."

"'Haven't had time'?" Guy affects an expression of amused disbelief. "What you been doin'?"

"Rebuilding civilisations and starting a Lantern Corps. You're welcome to a full report." I sigh. "Plus, the only Lantern who could really advise me on something like this is Honour Guard Lantern Torquemada, and as you explained it to me his magic use and ring use don't really overlap. Plus, he wasn't on Oa, so…"

"Alright, it ain't a problem. Ch'p an' me 'll go down and bash heads until someone tells us somethin', you stay up here and… Do whatever… If we're real lucky, we'll find out 'who' an' 'what' so we'll know exactly what we're dealin' with."

I dismiss my construct armour and send my power armour back into subspace, folding my legs beneath me. "Sounds like a strategy to me." Guy nods, and he and Ch'p turn towards Berrith. "I should warn you… I might not be physically present or.. particularly responsive to you when you're finished. If you really need me back, want really hard and I should become aware of it. Probably."

Guy nods, then something appears to occur to him and he turns back. "This somethin' I can do?"

"Um. Maybe? I don't know. I can.. send you a report, but I'm fumbling around myself. Unless we both get time to just… Play around with it together… Perhaps with someone else who's also bonded with an embodiment… I don't know."

Guy nods, then he and Ch'p head for the surface.

Right. What would the desires of a Berrith look like?

 

[Mr Zoat]

Meditation carried out by the spiritually inclined is an attempt to escape one's own particularity and in some sense touch something beyond oneself. God or a god, some universal force or presence… At the very least, to still one's own mind and get away from one's normal mode of thought.

That is not the way of the orange light. I know full well that as far as the orange light is concerned particularity is everything. So when I close my eyes I don't clear my mind but rather focus focus focus on the network of orange light within me.

I don't normally see myself in the way that I see others; I can't trace back my own capacity for strength of will or compassion to some formative experience or teaching. My fears I'm a little more aware of because I know what makes me afraid and… Because I've so thoroughly confronted them since I've been in Universe 16 that I seldom fear for myself these days. But I know my desires intimately, and knowing that I can relax my grip on the universe that is NOT!me and focus on the important part.

Me.

I'm fascinating, really. Especially when I display myself to myself in this fashion-. Ooh. Following a food related desire back to its earliest point, I see a brief snapshot of the first time I ever ate chocolate. I don't remember it, there's so little left and it's so thoroughly intermeshed with everything else that even with perfect recall I couldn't bring it to mind. What I see… I.. presume that's from when I lived on Friday Street, but I don't remember what the interior of the house looked like well enough…

No, that's not what I'm here for.

I retreat a little. This is !Me. But there are other arrangements like !Me. I want to see-

A thread extrudes from !Me and touches a blank canvas.

-those as well.

My Agent.

My Embodiment.

We were near the Green Men. She circles around me, just out of arms' reach. I could feel them. Closed cold Green.

Things will be easier for our Corps if we do not have to fight them. Can you feel the other people with orange rings?

Not well. We know they are there but so many feel so much orange light. She turns her head and looks across the canvas. This is so much better than the cave.

I smile at her, though I'm still not sure that the gesture means anything to her. Then I unfocus my eyes and try to picture clearly Lantern Tarant's desire network. Victory, practical resistance… Yes, like that.

I'm glad that you feel that way. This is one of your Lanterns.

I hold out my left hand as the particular packet that is Lantern Tarant draws closer, the Ophidian staring at it as if transfixed.

His name is Tarant. He wants to fight a group called The Reach. He has done that for many years, but he wants to fight them better now.

We can do that we can make him do that! She twists and rolls in apparent delight. We have him as our Lantern and he can use our light and do that! And I will know what it is to want that! She spins upright and flicks her tongue at the bundle. I want to taste him!

Not yet, Ophidian. It isn't safe for him. You're very big and he is… Small.

She pulls her head away, blinking. No he must stay as he is! But I want him!

In a little while, if you're willing, I can transfer you into the Orange Central Power Battery.

She looks… Dubious, inasmuch as a giant snake with a largely immobile face can look dubious.

You won't be trapped, you'll have full access to all of the Lanterns and power rings currently active.

And didn't I have fun persuading Hinon to add that function.

You'll be able to experience all of us without worrying about damaging us. And if you want to get out, you will be able to. We're not trying to lock you in, just to make the system as efficient and safe for everyone as possible.

She wiggles her head from side to side.

I will consider it.

Thank you. Now, could you possibly help me? I'm looking for people shaped like the ones on the planet below me.

The Ophidian and I turn, some knotty desire-blobs moving away to make space for the many others which stream forwards and move to conform to the physical arrangement of physical beings on the planet.

Brutish. Primal. Hungry. There are many like this.

Yes, but those are relatively common desires. We need to match the pattern, how the desires link to each other.

But she's not wrong about their makeup. It's what I imagine looking at the soul of a Beastman from Warhammer would be like. How do they-? Okay, that bit is a little more normal, but the core cultural components…

No, it's not cultural. It's like… Human brains work best when we live in the small troupes our distant ancestors did. A relatively small number of people around whom we know well and who know us. Our brains literally can't cope with cities and it radically changes our behaviour in ways predictable if you understand our drives at their root. The ancient Berrith were a scourge, eating everything they could catch wherever they went and swiftly moving on. But like forests which make use of fire in their cycles of decay and growth, Berrith's natural systems adapted to that. And they weren't even the only species that lived like that. They weren't even dominant, not really.

And then they got too clever, and the rest of the system could no longer keep up with them.

We understand.

Thousands, millions, billions of orange motes sleet past us, desire sets not at all matching being discarded in an instant while those with a stronger resemblance to what we're looking for hesitate for a moment before flying past. No, no-

No, no, no…

-no, no… Yes.

Yes.

I hold the mote in front of me, examining it more closely. Yes, the right shape and patterns and… I look inside and see more Berrith faces. Excellent.

More like that?

More like this.

The Ophidian flicks her tail, and the galaxy of motes fly away. Then they come, dozens and then hundreds, flying past her and towards me before adopting an orbit around the first example of their kind.

Excellent.

I stand, and reach out to them all.

Where are you?

24th August
06:02 GMT

What, where-?

A dense purple-black haze of nebula gas, holograms and more advanced stealth systems parts around me, revealing a grey wall from which domes and environmentally sealed skyscraper towers extrude…

And then the point defences start firing.

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th August
06:03 GMT

"Guy!"

I jink hard, lasers burning the flesh of my chest, back and right leg as a small proportion of their power leaks through my environmental shield.

"I found them!"

My armour appears from subspace in time to soak a couple of hits, but whatever this thing is it isn't messing around.

"Hey, where'd you go?!"

Ring, are they just shooting with lasers?

Confirmed.

I phase, shaking slightly with disquiet as a shot passes through my face. Okay, great. Ring, jettison debris approximately equal to my mass from my subspace pocket.

Compliance.

Some armour parts, half built drones and some proof of concept weapons drift away. The lasers switch to them for a moment, burning through the larger pieces until they're certain that every power source is destroyed. Then the fire cuts off and the point defence turrets retract into their protective housing.

Yikes. Okay, ring communications won't work while I'm phased, but my bleed-transmission systems won't be affected. … Which.. would.. be.. great.. if.. I'd thought to put a buoy near New Berrith. So… Hug the hull and risk phasing in, or transmit a message to one of the buoys I left near Oa and hope that someone is paying attention?

Ugh. Ring, float us closer and try the buoy.

Compliance.

"Orange Illustres to anyone listening. I need someone to relay a message to Lantern Gardner for me. Please respond."

There's a few moments of silence, then two people reply at once.

"Acknowledgement. Orange Lantern-?" / "Well, how 'bout that?"

Tresh and Kilowog. Works for me. "Ah, good. Would one of-."

"Off the comm, rookie. I'll handle this."

"Acknowledgement. I comply."

"Lantern Kilowog, would you mind putting-."

"Did you know I can still taste my own stomach acid?"

"I'd assumed… A glass of water or something? Now, if you-."

"One of the things you missed about us Bolovaxians is that we have a really acute sense of taste and smell. A couple of glasses of water aren't going to do the job."

"Okay, look, I'm in the middle of a mission right now-" I drift pass the edge of a.. wall..? I'm not sure how this space station was designed. Maybe the edge of one compartment? Not far to the crenulation. "-but if you want to moan to me about-."

"What mission?"

"I'm with Guy and Ch'p, looking into an attack on New Berrith."

"Okay, hang on."

"Kilowog? I'm kinda-."

"Guy, me here. Sorry about getting cut off, I had to phase."

"Paul? Where'd you go?"

"The ritual worked, but I didn't realise that it would move me physically to the location I was trying to examine."

"Heh. So? Where are you?"

"Not really… Sure? There's a big grey space station here-."

"Lemme guess: pyramid shaped with sky scrapers stickin' outta it."

"Ah, yeah, basically. Any idea-?"

"It's called Ranx. Not a lotta places use gravity disruptors like that. Used ta be a pirate base-."

"Until the Green Lantern Corps cleared it out, earning the bitter enmity of the AI controlling it." I didn't know what it looked like before it joined the Sinestro Corps. "Which -assuming that I'm anywhere near its last known location- means that I'm in Mytonian Cleft..?"

"Sector Seventy Three? Not 'less the Berrith Oranges 're a helluva lot faster than they got any business bein'. Can you throw out a signal?"

"Just a moment…" I duck in behind some sort of… Outflow? Part of the waste disposal system? I'd have thought that a place this large would generate enough of a gravity field to make that sort of disposal inadvisable to say the least. Anyway, not touching the hull, close enough that any gravity distortion I make would be virtually undetectable…

Phase in.

Compliance.

Stealth systems are on, and if this place hates Lanterns and has survived hating them… It might well have some way to detect construct use. On the other hand, if there are already Orange Lanterns in residence…

Ring, hang up bleed transmission and switch to ring-to-ring. Transmit homing signal to Lantern Gardner.

Compliance.

"Okay, try detecting me now."

"Yeah, got yah. Be with yah in about… Three minutes?"

"Appreciated. Did you and Ch'p find out anything?"

"Confirmed it was Ranx, but I guess that's old news right now. The locals said there were three Orange Lanterns. Rings turned up… Couple a' weeks ago."

"So…" I look around. Doesn't look like anyone has come out to take a look at what they shot. "Okay, at speeds someone from Berrith might be able to reach with an orange power ring… If they knew where they were going, it's possible that they could have reached Ranx in that time."

"How'd you figure they knew?"

"The obvious option is that whoever their ring was made from had been here before. Does Ranx have FTL?"

"If he does, he ain't ever used it."

"The Berrith don't strike me as the deferred gratification type. I'm struggling to believe that they could have flown to Ranx and dragged him back on a single ring charge."

"Why couldn't they just do what Ragnar did?"

"Because the Central Power Battery would already have been up and running by then."

"The Berrith ain't exactly-."

"Alright, because the chance of them finding people with orange rings while en route is pretty small. So how did they maintain their charge?"

"I dunno. How did they?"

I exhale. "Pass. I'm going to have a look around. Let me know before you arrive."

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th August
06:07 GMT

I watch as the phasic drone I dispatched around the outflow attempts to enter Ranx. It pierces the outer hull for about two centimetres, then shudders as it encounters resistance. Press a little harder…

There's a small explosion as the section phased into Ranx's armour bursts and the rest of the drone is thrown backward into space. A moment later three point defence guns emerge and shoot it.

Okay, phasing is out of the question. Blasting my way in through the hull is probably still a viable approach, but.. I.. don't have specific information on Ranx committing a crime. Yes, that's a somewhat hopeful position, but it's perfectly possible that the Orange Lanterns on board fired the shots or built the weapons and maintained control of them themselves. And… Frankly, it was the Berrith rather than anyone I care about.

I turn to face the hull again and open my empathic vision. What I assume to be the habitation areas inside are awash with orange. I honestly can't pick out the Orange Lanterns amongst them with any certainty. Ranx's own mind is a mix of colours, but I can see its satisfaction at being inhabited permeating through its soulscape and weighing every other decision in its new residents' favour.

Then there's… That thing. I'm… Guessing that it's a personal lantern, given that it glows with orange light but doesn't have desires of its own. But I've.. got no idea where they could have gotten it from. Kalmin hadn't heard of any other Weaponers experimenting with power ring technology, it wouldn't be the Controllers… Or at least if it was any of them they're going to be in the shit when Hinon finds out. It wouldn't be the Guardians or the Zamarons… Some other Maltusian faction is a possibility, as is Krona on his lonesome directing someone a little more tangible than he is these days.

Or -worst case scenario- they got given it by Apokolips. Who have plenty after the Green Lantern Corps' failed invasion.

I'm not.. feeling anything Apokoliptic, but Ranx has some pretty natty stealth systems and I can't guarantee that I'm seeing everything there is to see.

"Okay, Paul, we're here. Time t' 'dynamic entry' this-"

I feel it as local gravity twists and I'm forced to attach construct grips to Ranx's hull as he spins in space far faster than anything this size should be able to without pancaking everyone inside.

"-motherfu-."

"Evade! Evade!"

"Why would-?"

The armour around Ranx's… Those are gravity disruptors, right?

Confirmed. Variable amplitude variable vector gravity disruptors.

"Ah, fuck."

I don't hear them fire. The hull doesn't rumble even slightly. The only observable result is that a wide section of faux nebula suddenly contracts in on itself, giving me the first clear view of the stars I've had since I got here.

"Guy?"

"Busy!"

Ranx wheels again, and all around I see laser point defences stabbing out. This isn't like in the cartoons; at the sort of range Guy appeared at a lot of those are going to hit him just as they hit me. Okay, Guy probably can't close the distance; Ranx has interdiction fields out of the wazoo and is clearly ridiculously agile. It appears that this close to the hull I'm included in its inertial dampener effect, but the effect doesn't extend outwards all that far… What to do?

Ranx's level of alertness and arousal is such that I don't want to try flying around in case I get detected or squashed. Instead, I hug the hull tighter and turn my construct clamps into a construct clamp caterpillar track, attaching and releasing them in turn as I head towards the gravity disruptors' housing. Throwing out Praexis Demons is an option, but-

Green bolts of energy burn through the nebula towards the gravity disruptors, only to be turned aside as they use their spatial warping ability defensively. The armour on that part of his hull is easily thick enough to take the few hits that aren't harmlessly redirected back into space, but at least it's slowing the rate at which Ranx can fire.

-that would definitively identify that I'm here.

"Guy, I can attack the gravity disruptors or covertly sneak on board. There are a substantial number of Berrith in there, along with something I think is a personal lantern. The existence of a personal lantern concerns me far more than the rings, but since you're the one getting shot at I'll leave the decision to you."

"How quick can you get to it?"

"Covertly? No idea. Blasting my way through… Assuming that Ranx hasn't upgraded his armour since your Corps' last visit, under a minute."

"His guns sure got upgrad-"

"DIE GREEN LANTERNS DIE DIE DIE!"

"-ed. Aw-"

Parts of Ranx's hull peel away as secondary weapon batteries reveal themselves.

"-crap. Okay, sneak in. Me an' Ch'p'll pull back. Tell us when you find somethin'"

"GRAAAAAAAAGH!"

The volume of space is sufficiently vast that I'd ordinarily say that it wasn't possible to really fill it with anything, but Ranx is giving it a good try as Guy and Ch'p attempt to fall back to minimum jump distance. The distance is in normal terms quite a long way already, but in space-terms they're practically right next to each other. Dodging wildly and flying as fast as they can, they're doing as much as anyone could, but Guy's still having to shield Ch'p from hits from the smaller weapons and fire back at the gravity disruptors every so often to prevent them getting eradicated.

Well…

At least they know where we are ah! Finally, my suction caterpillars drag me around the tip of the gravity dis-.

I should have thought about this more.

No, no, it looks like the effect is more focused. Okay, maintenance hatch..? Maintenance… Hole..?

It looks like someone pretty much blasted their way out of Ranx's interior from.. what I think used to be a shuttle bay. The doors are normal interior bulkhead doors, which with a little luck…

Since I'm now firmly inside Ranx's inertial bubble I drop my caterpillar construct and activate my stealth systems before sending a phasic drone at the closest door. And… It goes through without issue. Excellent! Which means that either only Ranx's external armour is capable of blocking phasing, or he has to intentionally activate it.

Which I hope he hasn't done after detecting something phase through it.

No, no, I can scan these doors easily enough. It certainly… Looks like installing these was a rush job. Despite their habits, Berrith technology was reasonably reliable and 'war engineer' was a job held in high esteem. It'll work, but it's bodged and they haven't had time to improve it yet. Right.

I approach the door, turn so that my valued but ultimately expendable legs face it, and then phase. Then I drop part way through. Okay, haven't been cut in half-

"RUN COWARDS! I WILL DESTROY YOU ALL!"

-yet, so I think I'm good. I glance back and see the protective plates return to their position over the gravity disruptors just as the door passes over my head and I enter Ranx proper.

Okay, where next?