shepsquared
Erratic Aussie
- Location
- Melbourne, Australia
Man I can't wait until Grayven crosses over with that Paul instead of Paragon Paul.
With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Thread Twelve)
- Thread starter Mr Zoat
- Start date
- Status
- Location
- West Michigan
SB, SV, and QQ are sister sites.
SB is the oldest. She's a tomboyish military vet who has a soft spot for ponies and really likes blowing shit up.
QQ is the middle child. She's a total slut (and proud of it!) and by far the worst otaku of the three.
SV is the youngest. She's the straight-laced academic one with a politically-activist streak and is studying pre-law at her university.
Avalon Aurora
Eldritch Horror
- Location
- Unspecified Quantum Location
I have a sudden imagination of OL managing to nab a love enlightenment out of whatever this is, due to his thought process and soul nature basically being developed in such a way and him gaining his soul's initial 'full' basic stability in an enlightenment gaining situation. So we'll have orange quotes on one side and love colored ones on the other until he decides to get around and go through the rest of the process somehow (probably with controller assistance) and walks out with white light enlightenment, while preparing to track down black light agents/users.
Pizza
Everybody's just people.
- Location
- My house
You can tell who's white enlightened by the white quotation marks.
- Location
- Earth Prime
Let's be honest; they're all forums on the internet. They ALL have political-activist streaks.
- Location
- West Michigan
Connotations are important! SV's "Political activist streak... at university" sends a very different message when you compare it to e.g. /pol/'s "fell in with a bad crowd and now burns crosses every weekend."
Respite (supplementary, Renegade option)
- Location
- Hampden Park
16th August
11:34 GMT -5
Doctor Williams shakes his head at me. "I'm sorry Mister Grayven, but there really isn't much we can do for him."
I nod sadly, noting the uncomfortable look he's giving my injuries. Back on Earth my mana siphon went back to working at full power and my skin is just about water tight again. I had the ring clean off most of the dried blood. I still look like shit, mind, I just won't have people reaching for the zombie-repellent any longer.
"How bad? I mean, is it just the telepathy or is there wider brain damage?"
Inside STAR Labs' Metropolis site's medical laboratory the leading physician nods, and the purple ray drone fires at Mister Blake's head again. Blake's implants were a similar technology to what the Psions used on the Tamaranian version of Multiple Man, but far cruder in application. Maybe because they didn't know as much about Human brains as they did about Tamaranian ones, maybe because the First just intended to use him as a power source for the telekinetic enhancement systems in his armour rather than as a soldier in his own right.
"I…" He glances back at the observation window before returning his attention to me. "Mister Blake left Earth in nineteen sixty seven. I studied his old medical records -those that survived- years ago, but they just don't have the information we need. Based on… Our initial MRI scans, he should retain some telekinetic ability. But the rest of the damage is great enough that I don't know if he'll even remember that he has telekinesis."
"What can I do to improve his chances?"
Doctor Williams shrugs. "I don't really think there's anything else you can do. There just isn't enough information on traumatic brain injuries in telepaths. Between your healing ray and STAR Labs… Unless you know some kind of mad scientist bioengineer-."
"Zhet sounds like my cue." Cranius -dressed as Professor Otto von Schadel- steps out of the hush tube and walks past us to stare through the observation window. "Heff you been able to contact his next of kin? Mine own work, it is generally best if I heff signed consent, you understand?"
"I.. don't believe that we've been introduced, Doctor..?"
Cranius -or rather Otto- turns around, a grin on his face that no mere baseline Human other than Mister Napier could come close to matching. "Yes, I em one of zhose! Mister Grayven has been most helpful to me in making contacts amongst my fellow medical professionals! And with the American military, which pleases Janus more zhan it pleases me, but it is still gratifying." Otto steps over to Doctor Williams, beaming all the while. Of course, he doesn't breathe through his mouth… "I am Doctor von Schadel."
"Do you have a great deal of experience in working with telepaths?"
"Young man, I am a telepath. I heff studied myself and my telepathic brezhren extensively, and my knowledge of exotic Human -and Humanish- physiology is unequalled!"
"Then I'm sure that Mister Blake would be glad to have you here, Doctor." Doctor Williams doesn't sound entirely certain, but he's prepared to give us the benefit of the doubt. "If you'll.. come this way, I'll introduce you to Doctor Fransson. She's leading the team…"
Cranius glances back at me once as Doctor Williams leads him into the preparation room. General Lane has expressed cautious interest in Uncorporation's latest product: the oolitic kidney. If the trials prove successful, Cranius gets his wider acceptance, Janus Senior gets a defence contract and the American Military never has to worry about Gulf War Syndrome or Kane Madness ever again. Heck, once the soldiers get Unmanned up they can even use Argonate with zero risk of hideous mutations.
Probably.
Alright, my work here is done. Mister Blake is getting the best care available. Time to get back. I raise my left hand -my right is in a medical gauntlet of Miss Shimmer's design- and look at the surviving power ring. I really didn't want to go to Qward just yet. But what else am I going to do? Where else am I going to get the same snide, needling observations about my failures that Sinestro gives me? Hunt down Sinestro 16? I don't think so.
Ring, hush tube to Emana.
By your command.
…
It's just not the same.
I rise lightly off the ground and float through the tube into near-Emana space, the universe around me glowing orange from the light cast by a hundred and seventy three Lanterns.
16th August
16:37 GMT
Twenty eight deaths in exchange for the death of every Citadelian the First sent against us and virtually their entire fleet. There are lightly defended outposts still to crush, but they can wait a day or two. A pretty good rate of exchange, really.
Koriand'r and Komand'r transition to my side a moment later, both looking at me expectantly. I make eye contact with each, then turn my attention to the planet below us. I raise my eyebrows. "They said anything?"
Komand'r's jaw tenses. "Nothing of consequence."
Emana is well defended as planets go, but ultimately it is an inhabited world and not a fortress space station. The Branx have fleets, but they're mostly owned by privateer guilds. They have weapon stations and anti-bombardment shield generators, enough that even the Citadel wouldn't have been too keen on picking a fight with them. But nothing that would stop Lanterns and nothing that would slow down Lanterns with hush tube access.
Of course, the other way they avoided a fight with the Citadel was by backing them, building their ships and equipment and trading with them. Which is rather why I'm here.
"Shipping activity?"
She looks around, generating targeting reticles all around us to mark their location. "They're avoiding us. I imagine that having an entire Lantern Corps appear in close proximity has encouraged them to be somewhat cautious."
"Think they know about the Citadel yet?"
"Oh yes. They've been talking about little else."
"How fares Adam Blake?"
I look at Koriand'r in concern as her environmental shield flickers out, but she doesn't seem troubled by her sudden vacuum exposure and it returns a moment later.
"He's alive, his brain isn't dead and he's being attended by the most skilled physicians I could find." She nods, apparently satisfied. "You can visit once he wakes up if you like. But for now…" I float past them and hold out my left hand. "Grayven of Apokolips to the government of Emana. I strongly advise answering promptly."
A moment or two passes, then a Branx face appears. I recognise the woman. I think her title is.. 'high coordinator' or something like that. She's more of a Speaker than a President, but their government is structured in such a way that there isn't really anyone above her. "Grayven. What do you want from us?"
"Oh, don't just jump right to the end like that. There needs to be build up!" I smile. "You know that we've destroyed the Citadel and killed the First, yes?"
"I did not know about the First, but yes. We know that the Citadel is gone."
"And you'll note.. that the people with me are exclusively Tamaranian. And don't have anything good to say about the Citadel's allies. We're heading to Karna next, then probably on to the Wombworld. But you made the Citadel's ships. Now, I don't blame you for siding with the strong to protect your own people. In your position I might well have done the same thing. But there's a new ascendant power in Vega and they don't like you very much."
"We are willing to negotiate compensation."
I shake my head. "No. No negotiating. You accept, or your species dies today. Am I clear?"
She considers, her eyes briefly moving to look at someone out of shot before returning to me. "You are clear."
"I negotiated them down to this. You may have peace, and security. If you accept our terms not a single Branx need die. And once you have paid there will be no further retribution of any kind. However, they are otherwise extremely harsh. Firstly, the Branx will undergo one hundred and seven years of planetary isolation. Your people will make best speed for Emana, land, and they will not leave until that span of time has elapsed. Secondly, every piece of orbital infrastructure, every ship and every off-world holding is hereby confiscated."
She shivers. "That will bring about economic ruination. Our government has no power to order such a thing."
"I don't see how that's my problem. If anyone resists, we'll kill them and take it by force. I find either possibility equally appealing. Now, I'm going to give you an hour. At the end of that period I better be seeing some practical action on your part. Grayven out."
11:34 GMT -5
Doctor Williams shakes his head at me. "I'm sorry Mister Grayven, but there really isn't much we can do for him."
I nod sadly, noting the uncomfortable look he's giving my injuries. Back on Earth my mana siphon went back to working at full power and my skin is just about water tight again. I had the ring clean off most of the dried blood. I still look like shit, mind, I just won't have people reaching for the zombie-repellent any longer.
"How bad? I mean, is it just the telepathy or is there wider brain damage?"
Inside STAR Labs' Metropolis site's medical laboratory the leading physician nods, and the purple ray drone fires at Mister Blake's head again. Blake's implants were a similar technology to what the Psions used on the Tamaranian version of Multiple Man, but far cruder in application. Maybe because they didn't know as much about Human brains as they did about Tamaranian ones, maybe because the First just intended to use him as a power source for the telekinetic enhancement systems in his armour rather than as a soldier in his own right.
"I…" He glances back at the observation window before returning his attention to me. "Mister Blake left Earth in nineteen sixty seven. I studied his old medical records -those that survived- years ago, but they just don't have the information we need. Based on… Our initial MRI scans, he should retain some telekinetic ability. But the rest of the damage is great enough that I don't know if he'll even remember that he has telekinesis."
"What can I do to improve his chances?"
Doctor Williams shrugs. "I don't really think there's anything else you can do. There just isn't enough information on traumatic brain injuries in telepaths. Between your healing ray and STAR Labs… Unless you know some kind of mad scientist bioengineer-."
"Zhet sounds like my cue." Cranius -dressed as Professor Otto von Schadel- steps out of the hush tube and walks past us to stare through the observation window. "Heff you been able to contact his next of kin? Mine own work, it is generally best if I heff signed consent, you understand?"
"I.. don't believe that we've been introduced, Doctor..?"
Cranius -or rather Otto- turns around, a grin on his face that no mere baseline Human other than Mister Napier could come close to matching. "Yes, I em one of zhose! Mister Grayven has been most helpful to me in making contacts amongst my fellow medical professionals! And with the American military, which pleases Janus more zhan it pleases me, but it is still gratifying." Otto steps over to Doctor Williams, beaming all the while. Of course, he doesn't breathe through his mouth… "I am Doctor von Schadel."
"Do you have a great deal of experience in working with telepaths?"
"Young man, I am a telepath. I heff studied myself and my telepathic brezhren extensively, and my knowledge of exotic Human -and Humanish- physiology is unequalled!"
"Then I'm sure that Mister Blake would be glad to have you here, Doctor." Doctor Williams doesn't sound entirely certain, but he's prepared to give us the benefit of the doubt. "If you'll.. come this way, I'll introduce you to Doctor Fransson. She's leading the team…"
Cranius glances back at me once as Doctor Williams leads him into the preparation room. General Lane has expressed cautious interest in Uncorporation's latest product: the oolitic kidney. If the trials prove successful, Cranius gets his wider acceptance, Janus Senior gets a defence contract and the American Military never has to worry about Gulf War Syndrome or Kane Madness ever again. Heck, once the soldiers get Unmanned up they can even use Argonate with zero risk of hideous mutations.
Probably.
Alright, my work here is done. Mister Blake is getting the best care available. Time to get back. I raise my left hand -my right is in a medical gauntlet of Miss Shimmer's design- and look at the surviving power ring. I really didn't want to go to Qward just yet. But what else am I going to do? Where else am I going to get the same snide, needling observations about my failures that Sinestro gives me? Hunt down Sinestro 16? I don't think so.
Ring, hush tube to Emana.
By your command.
…
It's just not the same.
I rise lightly off the ground and float through the tube into near-Emana space, the universe around me glowing orange from the light cast by a hundred and seventy three Lanterns.
16th August
16:37 GMT
Twenty eight deaths in exchange for the death of every Citadelian the First sent against us and virtually their entire fleet. There are lightly defended outposts still to crush, but they can wait a day or two. A pretty good rate of exchange, really.
Koriand'r and Komand'r transition to my side a moment later, both looking at me expectantly. I make eye contact with each, then turn my attention to the planet below us. I raise my eyebrows. "They said anything?"
Komand'r's jaw tenses. "Nothing of consequence."
Emana is well defended as planets go, but ultimately it is an inhabited world and not a fortress space station. The Branx have fleets, but they're mostly owned by privateer guilds. They have weapon stations and anti-bombardment shield generators, enough that even the Citadel wouldn't have been too keen on picking a fight with them. But nothing that would stop Lanterns and nothing that would slow down Lanterns with hush tube access.
Of course, the other way they avoided a fight with the Citadel was by backing them, building their ships and equipment and trading with them. Which is rather why I'm here.
"Shipping activity?"
She looks around, generating targeting reticles all around us to mark their location. "They're avoiding us. I imagine that having an entire Lantern Corps appear in close proximity has encouraged them to be somewhat cautious."
"Think they know about the Citadel yet?"
"Oh yes. They've been talking about little else."
"How fares Adam Blake?"
I look at Koriand'r in concern as her environmental shield flickers out, but she doesn't seem troubled by her sudden vacuum exposure and it returns a moment later.
"He's alive, his brain isn't dead and he's being attended by the most skilled physicians I could find." She nods, apparently satisfied. "You can visit once he wakes up if you like. But for now…" I float past them and hold out my left hand. "Grayven of Apokolips to the government of Emana. I strongly advise answering promptly."
A moment or two passes, then a Branx face appears. I recognise the woman. I think her title is.. 'high coordinator' or something like that. She's more of a Speaker than a President, but their government is structured in such a way that there isn't really anyone above her. "Grayven. What do you want from us?"
"Oh, don't just jump right to the end like that. There needs to be build up!" I smile. "You know that we've destroyed the Citadel and killed the First, yes?"
"I did not know about the First, but yes. We know that the Citadel is gone."
"And you'll note.. that the people with me are exclusively Tamaranian. And don't have anything good to say about the Citadel's allies. We're heading to Karna next, then probably on to the Wombworld. But you made the Citadel's ships. Now, I don't blame you for siding with the strong to protect your own people. In your position I might well have done the same thing. But there's a new ascendant power in Vega and they don't like you very much."
"We are willing to negotiate compensation."
I shake my head. "No. No negotiating. You accept, or your species dies today. Am I clear?"
She considers, her eyes briefly moving to look at someone out of shot before returning to me. "You are clear."
"I negotiated them down to this. You may have peace, and security. If you accept our terms not a single Branx need die. And once you have paid there will be no further retribution of any kind. However, they are otherwise extremely harsh. Firstly, the Branx will undergo one hundred and seven years of planetary isolation. Your people will make best speed for Emana, land, and they will not leave until that span of time has elapsed. Secondly, every piece of orbital infrastructure, every ship and every off-world holding is hereby confiscated."
She shivers. "That will bring about economic ruination. Our government has no power to order such a thing."
"I don't see how that's my problem. If anyone resists, we'll kill them and take it by force. I find either possibility equally appealing. Now, I'm going to give you an hour. At the end of that period I better be seeing some practical action on your part. Grayven out."
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- Location
- Earth Prime
Oh, godlings, I hope it's not steeped in THAT kind of activism.
Is this number something clever I should be familiar with? Like, is it symbolic to Tamaranean society or something?
- Location
- Earth Prime
I understand, after some thought, that the "one of those" he "heffs" is a doctorate, however...that's not very clear. "Yes, I em one of those!" would probably be better. Then restructuring the rest a bit to more clearly indicate that the contacts et al helped him be awarded a doctorate.
First word should probably be "But."
RichardWhereat
Feanor did nothing wrong.
- Location
- Australia
Oh, this chapter was just filled with all sorts of tightly controlled righteous wrath. Loved it.
SV is actually better than SB about that.
- Location
- Hampden Park
It's a hundred Tamaranian years.
Thank you, corrected.
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- Location
- madison
eesh, that is harsh. especially when you consider the fact that their homeworlds carrying capacity might go down without access to trade or the resources of their solar system*. This could very easily result in the kind of death spiral that ends with a significant amount of the population dead. Honestly, it seems a bit harsh for the crime of making friends with the citadel rather than fighting them.
*if they have any significant off-world settlements things get much worse.
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- Location
- Earth, 3rd rock from the Sun
Is this the length of time Tamaran was confined to their planet? Unless that is the case this seems both excessive and of illogically specific duration.
The confiscation of all orbital structures is both apt and a good way of enforcing the first clause.
That's oddly specific. I wonder why?
How many years was Tamaran under Citadel control?
Does not compute.
Are non-Branxians allowed to visit? Or trade? How about travel inside their star system?
I'm not worried about their starving to death; a starfaring species should be able to compensate pretty quickly.
But other raw materials to maintain technological civilization is going to be a problem if they're adapted to an interstellar civilization, which could quite easily set off a death spiral.
And death spirals are not good for the local neighborhood where you want to set up your lantern corps.
Not to mention that you most definitely don't want to isolate a society of this sort; they're not the Psions, but they're hitech enough that if something like the Starros hit them while they're isolated, they're going to become a problem right quick.
You know, Cranius being the way he is, I actually thought he meant he had a doctor (and not a doctorate).
TheLastOne
Person of impeccable tastes (for destruction)
I'm not sure if you noticed, but this is the Renegade timeline, and he isn't here to bring peace or justice except as a side effect of conquest.
From what was said, they are forbidden from leaving their planet, so no going around the star system, but they can receive guests. Interstellar trade is still possible, which is going to be very important for them.
But since they cannot do it themselves, they'll have to get used to depend on others for a long time.
- Location
- madison
Oh I know, I'm just pointing out the result of this is a lot worse than it looks. So far the renegade has avoided civilian megadeaths. That may be about to change.
TheLastOne
Person of impeccable tastes (for destruction)
Yeah. I was semi-amused/annoyed by how people reacted to the Paragon timelines actions; I didn't get why so many assumed that the Renegade timeline was going to be less bloody rather then more, more concerned with justice or fairness rather then less.
I figured the 107 years was meant to be long enough for all the Tamaranians and Branx who are currently adults to die of old age so that when the Branx come back there won't be many left holding grudges.
Grayven is not only more vengeful than OL, but he's aligned himself with the Tamaraneans; who are quite clearly in a "smash everyone aligned with the Citadel" mood. From his viewpoint he basically has two main options; hurt his position with the Tamaraneans arguing for them to be lenient with the Branx, or sacrifice the Branx to the Tamaraneans to make the latter happy.
Since he's on the side of the Tamaraneans and not the Branx, the choice was probably obvious.
TheLastOne
Person of impeccable tastes (for destruction)
Yeah. OL cleaves more closely to the traditional Lantern Archetype of being above and separate from the concerns of any one place - the cosmic official. He might have very different idea of what is appropriate from the Guardians, but he actual cleaves to their model while diverging in the specific. His Lantern Core will look like a traditional Lantern Core, and probably act not that dissimilarity from the Green Lanterns 80% of the time.
Grayven is using his as his own personal army, which is not at all the same. By using people from the same race and culture, with the same touchstones, they'll probably work together better, but I also expect that they won't be as individually competent as OL's. Grayven is raising an army, OL is raising a force of heroes and champions.
They aren't the same thing at all.
- Status