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

[Mr Zoat]

10th July
15:22 GMT -5

The Spider Guild ships are pretty darn easy to spot. At some point in their history the Guildmasters decided that it was a good idea for their ships to look like giant mechanical spiders. Sort of. The abdomen contains all of the ship's generator, drive and storage bay while the front part mounts weapons and crew quarters. As I noted to the Thanagarians, they tend to be undermanned for their mass.

That, and every other ship is keeping weapons trained on them.

The larger ship on the other hand… It puts me a little in mind of an Ork Rok. I can't tell just by looking whether that's really an asteroid or just some sort of grey/brown ablative armour. At least the machine parts that are visible look like some thought went into making them. It's also the second biggest ship in near-Rashashoon space. Only the command vessel of the Citadel Empire taskforce is larger. Of course, it's probably nothing like as well armed… Some sort of upgraded civilian transport or generation ship? No, not the second. The files I acquired from John's ring suggests that Guildmasters prefer to base themselves on planets rather than ships, safely under a mile or two of rock. Since they like to have their new home finished before they even consider moving there, I doubt that generation ships are really a thing for them.

Let's see…

Ring, give me a full scan if you please?

Compliance.

Goodness gracious me, a mission critical object that isn't warded. I'm starting to like space. Hm. The capital ship seems to be designed to fight small and medium sized vessels. Lots of weapon turrets, but none of them are particularly large. The smaller ships are designed to attack capital ships. Aside from a few very small anti-fighter turrets, their only weapon is a very large front mounted ion cannon. Which I think doubles as a breaching beam for boarding actions. Energy shields cover both types of ship, but only the front part of the smaller vessels and the core of the larger one are well armoured. Pretty much in line with existing records…

Ring, armour.

Compliance.

My full power armour materialises around me. Adult Spiders are a little larger than Humans, and have a tough cartilaginous outer skin as well as hard appendages. Their corridors tend to be roomy so there shouldn't be any trouble getting about, and I want to look like I mean business.

Ring, hail the larger ship.

Compliance.

Hm. No immediate response. I hold my right arm out in front of me and retract my environmental shield, trying to get a feel for how it moves in a vacuum. Pretty well, actually. The movement assistance is-.

"Nestship responding. If you are contacting us to complain about the deaths of colleagues, or to threaten us, please say so now so that I may stop listening. Also, I do not have a thoumpa, and if I did I am not certain that I would want it elongated beyond its natural span."

"Orange Lantern Two Eight One Four here. I understand that the Queen is in a market for a bodyguard. I'd like to volunteer my-"

"Lanterns are green, you are wasting my t-"

I throw my arms out to the side and generate a large Orange Corps sigil.

"-iiiiiime."

I dismiss the construct. "Are you sure? Because I somehow don't think you're going to get many other volunteers here."

"… Please hold."

Hm. I bring my armoured hands together at my chest and one by one tap my fingers against one another. So, while I don't really care whether this turns into a war or not, I do want to try and make sure that the respective parties fight away from the inhabited planet. That, and much like Gotham it just isn't practical to kill every loathsome-.

Alan's face appears in my mind. And for a moment I feel slightly ashamed.

No, I want most of these people to shift to more legitimate work. There are well regulated mercenary companies and bounty hunters. There are peaceful trading networks where all participants don't all need to be armed to the teeth. And there's the rub: the Citadel Empire is -relatively speaking- a stabilising force. I had assumed that the best thing to do was to simply do away with them. Now… If I went after the Gordanians instead, they'd become more dependent on the Branx for muscle. The Branx are more efficient and less brutish than the Gordanians. Still ruthless, but…

Another twinge of guilt as I recognise that I still want to kill them. And another Iraq flashback as I recognise that getting rid of a loathsome despot doesn't necessarily make the situation better for the people you're trying to help. And I'm not inclined to hand the matter over to someone else-.

"This is Strand-Captain Fhomalhopos. You wish to guard the Queen?"

"I'm prepared to provide my services, yes."

"To what faction are you aligned?"

"Either 'none' or 'my own', depending on how you look at it."

"Do you have any relevant experience?"

I-. Huh. Actually I… Don't think I've really done much in the way of bodyguarding… "I've got a year's worth of experience against a wide variety of opponents and I can create energy shields at will. How much competition is there for this?"

"Little, but we can wait. Do you have references?"

"None that.. you'd have heard of. I can.. give you edited versions of my mission reports if that's any-."

"Who were your previous employers?"

And now I'm starting to feel a little stupid. "Look. I'm a Lantern. I have two power rings and a swarm of bound Demons. Can we.. please skip this?"

"I'll put you down as 'self employed'. Please proceed to the primary docking hangar. Your abilities will be assessed."

"Thank you. See you shortly." I have the ring display a cutaway map of the ship in my mind. And.. just in case he means that they're going to test my abilities by shooting me, I generate construct armour. Right. Ring, anything blocking transition?

No presently active interdiction effect is preventing either transition or warp travel.

Great -the stars jump and the ship shifts position as I appear in front of the open hangar- stuff. Ah, advanced civilisations. None of that awkwardness with airlocks, just selectively permeable energy fields. So much more convenient. As I float on through I spot the technicians working on their shuttles. It looks like they're taking the extra time this delay gave them to upgrade the armour. One of them notices me, his upper eyes tracking me while his lower ones remain focused on his molecular bonding equipment.

Spiders as in Guild members aren't actually all that much like Earth Spiders. For a start, they only have five eyes. Two large ones on the upper part of their face, and three smaller ones just below that for close up work. And then there's the body. Twelve limbs rather than eight, six of which are specialised as legs and six which serve as manipulator appendages. Plus two manipulator mandibles in addition to the more powerful slicing mandibles. Their bodies are really more like those of a chilopod than an arachnid.

Actually… That makes me wonder why I hear their name as 'Spider'. Is 'Spider Guild' the species, or the umbrella organisation to which all members of that species belong? In which case… What is the species actually called?

A set of doors open on the inner wall of the hangar and a cluster of Spiders… Huh. The door is about halfway up the wall and there's no platform on this side. The one with the armour insignia of a Strand-Captain and his four heavily armoured escort just walk down the wall. I float in their direction, aiming to intercept them just as they reach floor level.

"Strand-Captain."

His upper eyes turn my way as he continues walking. "Lantern. I am pressed for time, and I require a demonstration. You will attempt to protect me from these soldiers. Their lives are expendable. If I still live in two minutes and ten seconds, I will introduce you to the Queen. Do you understand?"

I smile inside my armour. "I think I can manage that."

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th July
15:27 GMT -5

Actually, you know what?

20:27 GMT

Better.

"So when do we-?"

The first of his legs touches the floor of the docking bay and his bodyguard immediately point their weapons-

I attach an orange beam to him -forcing it through a weak personal force field- and transition us to the other end of the hangar.

-and open fire, bolts of blue blasting forth and cutting into the material of the hangar floor. Above us, the technicians scurry to get inside their craft.

"Short range teleportation? Useful. But-"

Construct armour covers him as two of the soldiers correct their aim while the others leap after us.

"-that won't be enough by itself."

Man-portable ion-pulse weapons. The Spider Guild is capable of making just about any 'interstellar age' weapon, but they prefer low maintenance and easily mass producible weapons. Assuming that these are the standardised weapons my scans show them to be, my construct armour should be able to take their hits for an extended-.

The first pulse hits, and proves me right.

"A projected personal force field! Useful. But purely defensive technologies provoke attacks, they do not end them."

Spider Guilders certainly aren't above personal biological and cybernetic modification, but they much prefer robotic weapon platforms and power armour. Ring, scan the interior of the hangar in detail.

Compliance.

The two closer soldiers pop out of cover, a barrage of micro missiles-. Ring, warhead type?

Boosted fission.

Lunatic Spiders! Four point defence constructs appear around us, orange bolts burning through the air and blasting the missiles apart.

"Do your employees really hate you!?"

"Hhhhm. My promotion is recent."

I'm not detecting cybernetics or biological modification. Fine. Beams of orange leap out from me, curving around obstacles and slamming into my opponents. Their shields-. Take it for the two seconds they need to shoot the beams and disrupt them.

Fine. Railguns. My practice sessions showed that reinforced intermolecular bond plasma barriers -the type of force fields which the Spiders seem to be using- are vulnerable to crumbler technology. One soldier is a little slow in reaching cover, and with a low hum the first railgun fires. The shot connects, his force field shimmering into visibility for a half-second as the vapour which forms it suddenly loses all cohesion. Then my follow up beam punches through the armour and jolts the wearer's nervous system into unconsciousness.

"Ah! An offensive action. I was starting to get-"

The second railgun reorientates itself so that it points towards the ceiling, where one of the soldiers appears to have hoped that I'd make the mistake of someone only familiar with 2D combat. Realising that he's been spotted, the soldier tries to throw himself aside. At this range, it doesn't help. The hit shuts down his force field and turns his controlled leap into a tumble. I grab onto him with a reptilian hand construct, poking a claw through his armour and stunning him before depositing him onto the floor.

"-worried. Of course, now they know what you can do-"

A door opens in the ceiling, and a large and… Clearly Spider-shaped robot descends, a weapon I recognise as a gemburner attached on its mandible mount. A gemburner is essentially the opposite of a cold gun, creating heat by stimulating molecular vibration. It's expensive and technologically complex and the preferred anti-Lantern weapon of the Spider Guild due to the way it… Can be set to ignore construct defences.

"-they will call in reinforcements."

The drawback -I take a sheet of steel out of subspace and interpose it just as it fires- is that it can't ignore conventional matter. Some Lanterns -when confronted with one- seek cover. I say, why not make cover? Another of the soldiers chooses to believe that I'm distracted, and is rewarded with unconsciousness.

Praexis Demons, find the fourth.

The Demons surge out from my existing constructs as the Spider robot finishes melting through the steel sheet, the molten remains dripping down onto the hangar floor. Immediately, both railguns train on the hole and fire. The robot's force field takes the first hit, while its hastily raised left foreleg intercepts the second.

Well, since the shield's down…

The railguns open fire at maximum speed and force, tungsten rounds eating into the robot's armour. It tries to get space for a shot but my attack is relentless, chewing through its face-mounted sensors before it can fire.

"That's a little better."

I dimly feel it as the remaining soldier fires on the oncoming Praexis Demons. He's well disciplined and an excellent shot, firing as he retreats. Six are disintegrated -it looks like it takes two shots if they can't bring their mouths to bear accurately- before he's driven into the open and I turn a railgun on him. The crumbler round takes down his shield, then… You know what? Brand. Assist me.

The soldier shudders as the Praexis Demons break off their attack and fly out across the hangar, looking for anyone else who might be part of this 'interview'. No obvious-. Ah. Those may be technical drones, but they have decent welding disruptors mounted on them and they shouldn't be heading towards a potential attacker during a boarding action. Demons, feed.

I feel mildly disappointed that none of them shout 'yay'.

The Spider combat robot has decent armour, I'll give it that. I don't want to use crumbler rounds if I don't have to because I don't think I want the Spiders realising that they're good for more than shutting down their force fields, but a nice bit of abrading-.

The robot bunches up its legs and shoves itself from its perch on the ceiling, plummeting in my direction with some sort of energy field activating around its limbs. My soldier opens fire and wrecks one, but its main weapon at this point is mass. I could probably take it, but why bother? The Strand-Captain and I transition again just before it hits the deck. As expected, the still-functioning limbs cleave through the material of the deck like the metaphorical hot knife through butter, giving it just enough to hold to remain mostly upright. Must have a pretty good suspension.

Alright, whatever the technology it uses is, it's still a stupidly shaped robot. The fat beam of orange light erupts from my chest and strikes at its torso. It interposes its limbs again, only to find them grabbed by construct hands and tugged out of the way. Armour fails and flakes off under my assault, the robot jerking as it tries to get away.

Then my attack pierces the casing and hits something vital. The robot doesn't collapse so much as lock up, all motion ceasing.

"Not too bad, but how will you fare against a multitude of small opponents?"

Quick check around? The Praexis Demons have already consumed the technical drones, apparently not getting all that much power out of them. The number in the field is exactly the same as I started out with. Not enough arcane power around, I suppose.

"Smaller opponents?" The Strand Captain looks around the room for a moment before poking a small computer console built into the armour around his uppermost left limb. "Smaller..?"

"I've already destroyed the technical drones." I float us upwards, giving him a clear view of the room. "Are you satisfied?"

He looks around, eyes lingering on the destruction and the faintly glowing branded soldier. "Are there any more of you?"

"One, and he won't be joining me on this contract."

"And you didn't kill them. I hope that you won't maintain that attitude once you start working for us."

"As long as the Queen is safe, why does it matter to you?"

"A dead opponent can't try to kill you again."

"Or give you information. I'll kill if I have to, not otherwise. Are you satisfied?"

"Your performance was acceptable. Come." He jabs three limbs in the direction of one of the interior doors. "This way."

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th July
20:34 GMT

The interior-proper of the Spider Guild ship is a curious mixture of what I regard as conventionally technological and what is either true organic technology or at least designed to look like it is. The corridors are dingy by my standards, but Spiders see further into the infra red part of the spectrum so it's probably brightly lit as far as they're concerned. I note that the interior walls aren't painted, and that the pipes and the wiring are largely on display.

"Was the ship launched recently?"

He doesn't look back. "No."

"Heavy refit?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Well…" I gesture to our right, where the wall stops about halfway up and reveals a bundle of high capacity power cables. "It doesn't… Look finished."

"What should it look like?"

"Finished.. walls..? Cables tucked away neatly?"

"Why should we tuck them away? That would just make it harder to do maintenance." He stops walking. "Wait. The Queen is not yet ready."

I obediently stop just behind him. "Why is the Queen handling this? Shouldn't it be a Guildmaster?"

A double click of the upper mandibles as he turns towards me. Mild irritation. "That is not your concern."

"Alright." I turn, pointing at the cables. "What happens if you lose inertial dampening during acceleration and something hits that?"

"I do not see that our ship design is your concern either."

"If this negotiation goes badly, it becomes my job to escort the Queen back home. I can't do that if your ship isn't under power due to easily preventable internal damage."

"The precise nature of your contract will be a subject for discussion. All parts are armoured and shielded to the extent that they need to be. You may be unaware of this, but my people have an extensive history of spacefaring. I doubt very much that you will notice a design flaw in a few minutes that we have been so foolish as to not address in the last five thousand years."

"Alright. Do you have any specific intelligence on parties that might attack the Queen?"

"Everyone down there is a potential aggressor. It is unlikely that the pirate leaders will attack her themselves or with their own people, but any of them could hire outside help. Vega has any number of such people willing to throw a region of space into chaos for a few currency units. Life is cheap."

He sounds disapproving. "You are aware that your species habitually reproduces by-."

"We strive to keep ourselves and our own people alive. Even… Contractors, for the duration of their contracts. Robots are expendable assets."

"You seemed happy enough for me to kill your soldiers a minute ago."

"They will die anyway if we are unable to send the Queen to the negotiations. And you did not kill them. Green Lanterns seldom kill, and the fact that you have even offered yourself in this role to a people with little history of treating other sophonts well and did so without demanding money from the first… That suggests to me that you would follow their tradition. Tell me, did the Guardians decide that their policy of non-intervention in Vega did not apply to other colours?"

"I don't work for the Guardians."

"Sponsored, then?" The angle of his mandibles suggests smugness, which means that either he's faking or he genuinely thinks that he's ferreted out a secret from me. "I will not complain if it serves our interests, though you may wish to warn your colleagues-."

There's a dull buzz from his arm computer. He taps it twice, then continues down the corridor. "The Queen will see us now."

He leads the way along the corridor, which curves up and to the right. I think that we're heading towards the centre of the vessel. I remember the execrable Halo novels, where the Elite character comments that Humans are foolish for putting their bridges at the front of the ship rather than the centre. Looks like the Spider Guild build their capital ships on the same principles as the Covenant.

The corridor ahead terminates in a heavily reinforced door, and the ring shows that the same armour extends all around the chamber. The Strand-Captain walks out into the middle of the passageway and bows towards the door. A faint buzz and the force field protecting it shuts down. A clank, and the door slowly begins to open. The Strand-Captain doesn't stand any further on ceremony, passing through the opening as soon as it is wide enough to accommodate him. I wait a few moments longer, giving it time to fully open. The room beyond is circular and depressed in the centre. Several other Spiders man consoles around the periphery, and in the centre…

It turns out that the Spider Queen is quite large.

I walk through as she and I regard one another. Compared to the others, the lower portion of her body is much larger. Though that does make her sound a little more like a regular spider, the net effect is actually to make her look more like a giant Crab-Centipede-Centaur… Thing. Her head and carapace are slightly smoother than those of her male counterparts, and… An extra two sets of her limbs support the lower portion of her body, while the ends of her upper four limbs have simple grasping appendages on the end. I'd have to duck my head to stand underneath her, but only a little. Spider Guild females don't.. usually look like that. Aliens are supposed to have a hard time telling them from the males. If I'd been asked, I'd have guessed that she was a different species entirely. No obvious cybernetics… Bioengineering? I could scan her, but that does seem a little rude.

"So. You wish the honour of being my protector."

"I'm prepared to do that job, certainly. For a consideration."

"We have studied the databases captured from our enemies." She points at one of the consoles to her right with her lower right forelimb. "None of them have a record of you. This suggests to me that you are the independent contractor you claim to be. However, they do make mention of strange beings bearing your mark flying from Okaara."

"They're not mine. I only got here a few hours ago."

"I have little enough time to ensure the survival of my own people. I have none for your power plays."

"Understood. In any case, it really is in my interests that you are able to negotiate a settlement."

There's a.. sort of.. wheezing sound from her. "What is your fee?"

"I have a power ring; I don't need money. There aren't any objects under your control that I want, and I doubt that a single Nest that was recently on the losing side of a war could give me the industrial capacity I could do anything useful with... Let's say… A favour of commensurate value at the future point of my choosing?"

"Why not state the favour now?"

"Because I don't want anything right now. Because if I get one favour then it's in my interests to ensure that you're as successful as possible so that I can redeem it for the most value."

Because I don't really know how much what I'm doing is worth.

"You trust us to repay you?"

"You trust me to protect you?"

"No, but I have little alternative."

"Hey, if I was going to attack you, I'd be doing it now. I'm not suddenly going to develop a reason just because we're on the planet."

"And you are convinced that we will repay you?"

"I'm convinced that I can make things difficult for you if you don't."

"I suppose that I am obliged to take the risk." She walks up the sides of the pit, which I'm guessing was built here so that her subordinates didn't have to crane their necks to look at her. "Strand-Captain, you have the bridge."

"My Queen. We will have an extraction team on standby, should things turn sour. Your personal protective equipment is waiting for you in your yacht."

She heads towards the doorway and I turn and float after her.

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th July
20:59 GMT

"Landing zone confirmed, control. I'm sending the course to you now."

Flying in an actual spacecraft takes a wee bit longer than just transitioning around the place. I would have been perfectly happy to just take her down with me but apparently this was a demand from the other parties at the negotiation. She has to land in a commercial landing zone and walk to the place where the negotiations will be taking place without her usual guards.

"Course received. Don't deviate from it and we won't have any problems."

Ye-ah. While we're not going to cause any problems, I can't speak for the other parties. And I certainly can't speak for the Citadel Complex command ship that flew this way the moment we left the Spider Guild capital ship and is currently looming over Raggashoon with its weapons powered and locking onto other ships in the area apparently at random. I'm not sure whether that means that Lord Damyn wants these negotiations to be successful, doesn't want anyone doing anything too stupid or just wants an excuse to kill all parties and have people allied more closely to him usurp their territory. The weapons look conventional, but they're very big and I'm reasonably confident that the Psions have some way to block Lantern FTL. I would not want to be on the receiving end of a full broadside from that.

Anyway, I can't help but think that the other negotiators are being a bit stupid about this. Yes, having to walk to the negotiation without a retinue is humiliating, but it also increases the chance that someone will attack her. That could be intentional, but… The Spider Guild ship has been here for a couple of days already, well inside the Rashashoon interdiction fields. If they just wanted to kill her, they could have done so with far less drama. It might be stupidity, but the Spiders gave me a copy of their intelligence reports on the other parties and they don't look stupid. Most of them have done work as mercenaries and assassins before; they'll know this is a perfect ambush setup. So… Either they all don't care much either way but want to get some entertainment out of it… Or their desire for cruelty overwhelmed their good sense.

There are a few ships in the general area as we head towards the landing zone, but they have the sense to make themselves scarce when a flight of interceptors with transponders identifying them as local naval vessels enters the area. Thanagarian designs, slightly older than the one Mister Hol and Ms Thal use, and the markings on their exterior don't belong to any Rashashoon city-state. Nothing like enough firepower to stop a concerted attack, but enough to chase away chancers. I'm not sure whether that represents a serious concern for our wellbeing or if they just don't want our wreckage landing on their city.

The yacht has decent shields and is reasonably well armoured. Not impressively so, but it should take a few hits from anything less than capital ship grade weaponry, and with the Citadel command ship very much in evidence those have mostly backed off over the horizon. Actually… I think the artisan approach Earth society takes to its really advanced technology has left me a bit blasé. There probably is a ship or two this size and power on Earth… Not this many, but the awe I thought I might feel at encountering an interstellar civilisation just.. isn't materialising. There are more ships here, and the advanced technology is more widely spread, but… Nothing is fundamentally more potent than things I've seen before.

Not even counting the rings.

"Final approach, one minute to touchdown."

"Understood."

The Queen hasn't been talkative, which isn't that surprising. I'm not from her Nest. I'm an addition she'd much rather do without. I took the time the journey down gave me to review Green Lantern Corps records on the Spider Guild's interactions with mercenary groups. They seem to much prefer relying on their own resources than hiring help. There are instances of even Nests with quite poor relationships hiring additional forces from one another in preference to employing other species, and they'd rather build robots than do either. On the few occasions the Green Lanterns heard of where they have employed mercenaries, history suggests that they're reasonable employers. I don't think I have to worry too much about being stabbed in the back.

Not that I'm going to take silly risks.

"How long do you think this will last?"

"Many local days. Perhaps twenty, before we have an outline agreement."

"What sort of working hours are we talking about?"

She focuses her lower eyes on me. "Why?"

"Because while I can go without sleep for twenty days, I wouldn't want to rely on my decision making abilities towards the end of it. And that's a problem, because I'm your only protection. So are we going back to your ship, or renting a bunker..?"

"Will you be able to manage four local days?"

"I should be able to. Though if nothing happens I can't promise that my attention won't waver a little at times. Why, what happens after four days?"

"The other parties to the negotiation should have stopped blustering. At that point, either we will be able to negotiate or they will attack me in earnest. If they negotiate, the chance of any of them ordering an attack is much reduced."

"Makes sen-."

"Until the end of the negotiation, at which point any who are unhappy with what they have won will make a concerted effort both on my life and those of the parties who are happy with the conclusion."

I smile ruefully as orange lights dance across the controls. The controls just aren't designed for a standard pattern humanoid to use. Most of them require six limbs to slot into portals which can rotate in a number of different directions simultaneously. I've been bypassing them and controlling the systems directly. "Makes sense. Landing now."

The ship is nice to fly, though. Its gravity repulsor system is nearly as good as the Bio-Ship's telekinetic-. And there I go again! Sure, the Bio-Ship isn't Earth-technology, but… Those Martian warships I saw could take out everything in their weight class that I've seen here so far. How did I get this jaded? Anyway, I barely feel the landing. The landing pad is a large and flat area made of a synthetic metamorphic rock substitute. Strong, tough and not unpleasant to look at. Since none of the ships around here need a runway and no one comes to a planet like this to commute, most landing platforms are actually quite small and close to the off-worlder friendly parts of town. This is the industrial spaceport, designed for the loading and unloading of bulk goods. As such, it's a little further away from everything and has somewhat better security.

I mean, not amazing sec-.

…

You know, I don't think it is the technology. I think it's the organisation. Even after the First World War, the German diplomatic delegation could go to Versailles without having to worry about getting shot. Well, not too much, and not as French government policy. And that wasn't because the French government liked them, it was because everyone accepted that the war should be wound up by treaty. In the real world, parley doesn't mean 'everyone else is flat-footed and bare-handed', it's proof that you're capable of civilised behaviour. This place…

I get up from the pilot station -which I could just about sit in without modification- and walk out of the cockpit. The Queen has already raised herself from her pit and is checking her armour. Not full power armour, but it should take a hit or two. Nothing of her pale brown carapace is visible, which is only sensible. Very few naturally occurring species have armour-grade chitin and Spider Guilders aren't one of them.

"Best let me go out first, just in case anyone has an itchy trigger finger."

"I was expecting you to."

She waits for me to take the lead, then slowly follows me towards the exit. A pulse of orange and the landing ramp begins to lower itself.

"Are you certain that you don't want construct armour from the start?"

"Yes. I must be seen as authoritative. If I am wearing your colours then it shows me as subservient."

"Very well." The ramp isn't completely down, but I can see the outside clearly. I wave my hands forwards and eight Praexis Demons fly though the gap. They can draw fire… Or maybe put the fear of the Beast into the locals.

There's a clank as the ramp comes to rest on the… Let's call it rockcrete, ground. Then I stride out to greet the crowd.

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th July
21:06 GMT

No one is… Close to the ship. From the looks of things, spaceport security are keeping rubberneckers… Or at least rubberneckers who aren't well connected, out of the landing area completely. A fair few people -mostly natives- are pausing in their tasks working on heavy loading machinery to gawk at… Hm. I've turned up my empathic vision to help with spotting potential assassins, and they've gone from mild orange curiosity to clear yellow get-us-out-of-here. Because they've seen me. Rashashoon has something reasonably like modern news media; these people know about Larfleeze sending out his minions. And they're rapidly going from slacking off in order to stare to looking for an excuse to work somewhere further away.

Not exactly what I was going for. But I'll take it.

Representatives from several of the larger armed groups on the other side of the conflict stand in small huddles between us and the way to the building the meeting is taking place in. The largest group consists of five and the smallest three, and given the distance they're keeping from each other I suspect that they'd only be slightly slower to shoot each other than to shoot the Queen. A mix of species are represented, mostly local or at least localish. Three Gordanian pirate clans, one of which has… Huh. Nothing in the Green Lantern files about a clan sign consisting of two dots with a 'w' between them. Still, their equipment seems.. more or less the same. One of the larger groups is led by a heavily scarred Branx Warrior, flanked by two Okaarans and with… A Coluan. She's a long way from home. The fifth member of the group is a heavily mechanised cyborg. Certainly, more of a mix amongst the outsider pirates than amongst the local groups.

My presence is causing fear in approximate proportion to how familiar they are with Larfleeze's operations. The Okaarans -curiously, those here don't seem to be in leadership positions- recognise me immediately, but their discipline prevents them either backing away or attacking. Others are slightly nervous; they'd been expecting the Queen to be alone, or have a bodyguard of local mercenaries. I'm outside their context, though the tension from the Okaarans is being noticed. The difference is that these aren't dock workers. They're pirates. They're not going to back down because they're afraid; if anything, they're more likely to-.

"Get grokkin' back!"

FHZCHIOOF!

An arc of purple energy leaps from some sort of hand weapon being carried by a frazzled-looking Cairnian, smashing into the closest Praexis Demon and causing it to evaporate. At the sound of weapons fire a dozen other guns of various kinds are drawn. Some are pointed his way, others mine and the rest aren't.. quite.. pointed at anyone. One of the man's companions leans towards him, muttering something and grabbing hold of the hand carrying his weapon with their right.

I should probably say something.

I rise into the air slightly. Ring, amplification.

Compliance.

"Ladies and gentlemen."

Attention doesn't completely shift to me, but most eyes are splitting their time between me and other potential threats.

"The Spider Guild has retained my services to escort the Queen to the negotiations. My understanding is that the organisations you.. represent, consider these negotiations desirable." I fan out my hands. "Are we going to have any trouble?"

No one.. says anything in response, though a few guns move back into their holsters. Or at least stop pointing right at anyone.

I float towards the still-shaking shooter, additional Praexis Demons dropping from the rings as I go. He's… His emotions are a mess. Give him a scan. What exactly..? Ah.

"Sir, you appear to have developed an unfortunate drug habit. How about I..?" I hold out my left hand in a mock benediction. "Clear that right up for you? Recomflex and Flash are not a combination that's kind to your nerves."

"Y-y-y-you just keep the gratz away from me, freak."

I nod sadly. I could probably give him a purge without it being obvious… No. "As you wish." I float back toward the Queen, turning towards her and giving anyone who wants it a shot at my back. Of course, if anyone felt like taking aim the Praexis Demons would see them…

"Marm?"

Her armour hides her body language in the same way that my armour hides mine. Would she..? Can she interpret Human or even humanoid body language? Power rings are very convenient for that sort of thing, but there are a lot of humanoid species around here and we do all share a fair bit of our physical expression. She's probably learned some, or at least had an analysis program added to her armour HUD.

Secure transmission incoming.

Authorised.

"You appear to have some notoriety. I was not aware of this."

"Problem?"

"I have no desire to make your enemies mine."

"None of my enemies live anywhere near here." I turn away and hold out my left arm in the direction of the closest exit from the spaceport. "Shall we?"

The Queen.. takes a direct line for the exit, but at a slow pace. I land just behind her and follow at a slow walk. My precise physical position isn't that important, and I want to try… Ah. Looking deeply into people's emotions is a time consuming business if I want any sort of detail, but… Reaching out for that one particular combination of fear and desire and hate and rage that indicate that someone who is about to shoot is something-.

Three layers of construct shield and a kinetic shield appear next to the Queen a fraction of a second before the maser bolt strikes home, its power expended harmlessly against the outer shield. That probably wouldn't have -I flash out filaments in the direction the attack came from, the failed assassin already visible in my empathic vision- penetrated her armour, but there could be other assailants. Praexis Demons appear from the orange strands as the would-be assassin tries to flee. No force field, minimal body armour, no… Ah, she's heading for a vehicle. I tag her with a filament and transition her to me, wrapping her in orange chains the moment she appears.

A white-pelted Karnan female in civilian clothing. Probably planning to fade back into the crowd afterwards. I yank the gun from her hands with a construct-hand. Okay, an obvious assassination attempt. Everyone… I glance at the audience. They're expecting me to kill her. Certainly, no one would complain. Not as long as I didn't make a mess of it.

I smile.

Ring, brand.

Compliance.

My guest struggles against the chains for a moment before being enveloped in an orange glow. Then it fades, leaving an orange sigil behind. I remove the chains and call back the Praexis before turning away from her.

"Follow."

"Certainly, master."

Renewed flashes of yellow from the Okaarans, and several others look disturbed. Honestly, you'd have thought that they'd never seen casual mind control before. My new companion walks besides me with a slight skip to her step, keeping up with me with no difficulty at all. I'll interrogate her later, see if any of these people hired her. Or if anyone else did.

And then… I don't have a prison to put her in. I'm certainly not taking her back to Earth and I don't see any point taking her to Maltus. I.. suppose.. I'll just let her go somewhere. I very much doubt that the Queen will be leaving her Nest again for a very long time, so there isn't significant further risk to my principal. Might make me look weak to the local hard cases, but except where it has an immediate effect on me I don't really care about their opinion of me.

Though I'm not exactly unhappy with how quickly they're getting out of the Queen's way as she heads for the exit.

 

[Mr Zoat]

10th July
21:29 GMT

"…pay for what you did!" The rough-skinned, heavily set, green skinned leader of the Jovial Marauders appears to like having the floor. "Pay, you hear me!" The… I hesitate to refer to it in a manner which suggests any sort of formal process, but I suppose that 'hearing' will have to do. "What the Spider Guild has tried to do goes far beyond the bounds of-" His eyes flick momentarily to the other two leaders of the major groups. "-reasonable competition."

The man in the purple and green uniform looks somewhat bored, though he is at least polite enough to make eye contact with his competitor. The gold skinned, blue haired, powerfully built woman a short distance away from him just slumps a little further.

"Worse!" He turns back as the woman I vaguely recognise from a Booster Gold comic tries to blow one of her bangs out of her eyes without otherwise moving. "Your actions have threatened to cut off our access to the Vega Systems themselves, and the invaluable safe harbour they provide to us."

I try tuning him out a little, checking my surrounding environment for threats. The auditorium is for leaders only, and the Citadelian marines on guard duty checked everyone going in for weapons… Above a certain level in power, at least. The rest of us get the privilege of watching from backstage, ready to charge in just in case our employers call for us. Whatever Citadelian officer came up with this is at least reasonably intelligent, however. Getting into the meeting room would inevitably require us to get past them, and thus alienate Vega's dominant power.

The one with the battleship directly above us.

I take a look at my new companion as my Praexis Demons float over the crowd. I think I can afford to take my eye off the Queen long enough to-.

"I always thought the ancestral enemy of my people would be… Bigger."

I turn away from the twitching cat woman and towards… An Okaaran woman. She's wearing efficient-looking purple body armour. Her face is flat, a tiny stub of a nose positioned directly between her eyes, with bushy, long haired eyebrows just above them. Two large fangs protrude from her lower jaw and her skin is a pale blue. Let's see, one low power gun built into her right bracer, a larger gun slung across her back and… Matter disrupters built into the left bracer. Less effective than a crumbler gauntlet, but it still wouldn't be too healthy to get punched by one.

"I am not The Beast of Okaara."

She snorts. "A second disappointment."

"If you don't want a third, I imagine that you know where to find him."

"Do you wear his sign to insult us?"

"No. I wear it because I use the same power as he does. And I have not been driven insane by it."

A slight twitch, but the red recedes slightly. "You know of him, then?"

"Naturally." I look around the room, taking in the ones trying not to be too obvious about listening in on our conversation. "I had rather thought that he kept to himself. I've been a little.. surprised by the level of recognition I've been getting. Aside from you Okaarans, I didn't think anyone would know of him."

"A year ago you would have been right. Then his orange slaves…" She looks up as one of my Praexis Demons floats past, grabbing at some sort of small flying creature. "Flew out from the Forbidden Forest of Weeds."

"Did they attack anyone?"

She snorts, glancing at a nearby group of Gordanians. "No one not foolish enough to attack them first."

I nod. Good to know. I mean, the planet they came from is most famous for its well trained mercenaries and any other local power likely to take issue with the Construct Lantern swarm would have been an even more acceptable target… But I'd still rather people not get hurt by accident. If I'm going to kill someone I'd much rather it be deliberate.

"The Beast didn't like me stealing from him."

Her eyebrows twitch. Astonishment and.. I think she's impressed. "Many have tried to steal from The Beast. Our legends say they always end up as his slaves."

I nod. "A weapon in your hands that you have not mastered is a weapon that belongs to your enemies. The orange light is the light of avarice. People are drawn to Larfleeze by their own greed, but none are as greedy as he is."

"Larrrr..? Fleece..? That is The Beast's true name?"

"Yes, as far as I know."

She looks me over carefully. "If you and he are powered by greed, and none are so greedy as he is, how did you escape where so many have failed?"

"Only a fool attacks their enemy where that enemy is strongest and where they themselves are weakest."

Curiosity. "You speak like a War-Sage. If you did not overpower him, you outthought him. You discovered a weakness and exploited it as much as it could be exploited, and then retreated."

"Something like that."

"He sent his slaves out after you? And you evaded them?"

"He didn't know where I was. One of his slaves… The big head with the mouth tentacles? Found me by pure chance. Destroying it without revealing my location was difficult, but manageable."

"Can anyone wield this power?"

"In theory, yes. In practice, it tends to drive those who try, insane. And then they attack Larfleeze, and they lose. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an assassin to interrogate."

I turn away from her, facing the attentive Karnan. A simple 'you want to be helpful' has been enough to make her stay by my side-.

"She does not look like the others."

I look back at her, and she nods her head at the nearest Praexis Demon. "Branding isn't permanent."

"Surely you intend to kill her once you are finished?"

"What, for a weak assassination attempt? Hardly worth it." I.. could, though. Even if I assimilated her… The Sword dealt fairly handily with the Praexis Demons who ate those portals… And.. appearing weak to these pirates might create problems… "Besides, I might have other uses for her."

I look her over once again. The Karnan woman's clothing is fairly minimal, more being rendered unnecessary by the short white fur that covers most of her body. A mane of longer white fur cascades down her head, tied out of her face by an Alice band. Her irises are pink. Her ears are located on the top of her head, though they're far smaller than they would be in a standard depiction of a catgirl.

Ring, sound baffle.

Compliance.

"What's your name?"

"Felicity, masterrrrr."

The purr is affected. I'm ninety percent sure. She shifts her weight, watching my face carefully as she tries to work out which part of her body I find most attractive.

"And whom do you work for, Felicity? Why did you attempt to kill my employer?"

"I'm a member of the Omega Men, master. Primus wants the Queen dead so that all of the pirates will start fighting again."

I've heard of the Omega Men, though I don't think they were in any of the comics I ever read.

"Primus sent you?"

"No, master. I thought that I could prove my worth by killing her myself."

Oh dear. "When does he plan to attack?"

"I don't know, master. They don't tell me things about missions."

I turn to the Okaaran, dropping the sound baffle. "Are the Omega Men a serious threat?"

She doesn't look impressed. "Serious enough. But nothing we haven't dealt with before."

I nod inside my armour. "I suppose we'll just have to be on our guard, then."

 

[Mr Zoat]

11th July
04:02 GMT

"Seventeen."

"Seventeen?"

Sinak -journeyman warrior of Okaara- makes the slight flare of her nostrils which is equivalent to a nod. "It is the most reliable form of data security. Warmasters often write their own programs for their own equipment, but that isn't practical over a fleet."

"I wouldn't have thought that seventeen distinct formats was practical over a fleet."

"No. The Citadel has one, and Branx have another. The Gordanians have three, and often use those of other peoples or a combination. Then you have the various outlaw groups, each of whom-."

"But how do they… Exchange data?"

"Emulation software. And talking."

"But if they've got emulation software anyway, surely that means that there's no real security benefit to having non-interacting operating systems?"

She hesitates for a moment. "There are… Procedures. I don't intend to give away the particulars-"

"Of course."

"-but a combination of hardware and software controls makes it substantially harder. How do your people do it?"

"I don't really know much about the military side, but something like ninety percent of people on my homeworld use the same operating system family and we have a population of six billion."

Sinak pointedly looks around the room. "How much civilian traffic do you think the Vega Systems have?"

I follow her gaze, taking in the paramilitary fighters who make up the retinues of the various gang leaders. "I suppose." I'm not getting quite the same fear response I did when I first came in. I'm not sure whether they're still conflating me and Larfleeze, but since I'm clearly not behaving as he was reputed to they're not on tenterhooks any longer.

I'm still not exactly snowed under with conversational companions.

"You don't like it?"

"It just seems… Inefficient. Badly organised."

"The Citadel is well organised. You can go and work for them if you want."

"The Citadelians have to have their brains cybernetically enhanced to allow them to become intelligent enough to sign their own names. I know they are the dominant power around here, but I can't quite get my head around how it happened."

"Why are you sure intelligence is an advantage?"

… "Optimism?"

"Hah!" From the slight opening of her mouth, I think that she's genuinely amused. "Look at my people. We were never as clever as the Psions, but when we first rose to the stars the only other competition were the Branx. We felt ourselves their superior."

"And?"

"Then came X'Hal. And the First Citadelian. By the time we finished nuking ourselves back to the iron age, he had already learned the lesson our society had taught. Strength, intelligence… Without unity, without purpose, they mean nothing. Less than nothing. A strong people who make war upon themselves will end up with less than they started with."

"True, I suppose."

"So he made sure that his followers would always be unified."

"I thought-?"

"Oh, sometimes they kill the current emperor. And they'll get drunk and pick fights with each other. But it doesn't go further than that. As far as anyone knows, there's nearly no internal division in their society."

"Huh." I look around the room, my eyes alighting on the squad guarding the entrance to the amphitheatre. "And... That's how this all works?"

"They give life here structure. Someone needs to run it, and everyone likes them doing it better than they do the idea of any of their rivals being in charge instead."

I return my attention to her. "And there isn't any other group who could take that on?"

She makes a rumbling noise in the back of her throat. "Gordanian clans are barely unified internally, and their clans spend more time fighting each other than they do anyone else. The Branx are unified… But only to a point, and their government is weak. Euphorix is unified, but they were always isolationist."

"Tamaran?"

"I don't think we have to worry about them having much of a say in anything. A century ago..? No. Even then they were too individualistic. It's the same problem we Okaarans have. Great as warriors, but terrible as armies."

"And the Psions? Actually-" I look around again. "-I don't think I've seen one yet."

"And if you're lucky then you won't. Do you want to become a laboratory specimen?" She glances away, as if concerned that one of the midget lizards is about to walk in with a scalpel. Not much yellow on display; it's a low lying ongoing concern rather than something she really thinks is about to happen.

"And the other races? There are twenty three inhabited worlds in Vega."

"Weak. Primitive. Disinterested. Personally, I suspect that the Citadel had a hand in this lot coming together to fight the Spider Guild."

"What makes you think that?"

"The Guild Nests are unified. And strong. They don't have much interest in other species except as food or breeding stock, but their expansion was probably the first existential crisis the Citadel Empire has had since…" She looks blank for a moment. "Ever. One Nest world wouldn't matter, but one more would give them enough industrial power to actually threaten the Citadel fleet."

"The Citadel Empire can't expand outside Vega?"

"Green Lanterns would smash them if they tried."

"They haven't smashed the pirates."

"No, but they'd try. And they cost the pirates a lot in lost ships and personnel. The fact is, running and hiding is easier than standing and building. If everyone knows where you are, then they know where to go to attack you. The Citadel probably sends out ships, to keep an eye on things, but build? Fortify? No. And… I've wondered. I've been on their ships a few times, and their crew is actually fairly small. Since they're all clones, they could just grow more. There's no obvious reason for them to maintain their alliance with the Gordanians. Not if all they get out of it is dumb muscle."

Hm. I don't remember exactly how the Empire was organised well enough from the comics to assume anything, but it is a little strange. I turn to my other companion. "Felicity, how would the Omega Men like to see things run?"

"Each people should have autonomy, master."

"And if one people decide to conquer another? Who's supposed to stop them?"

"When the Citadel is defeated, Euphorix will be able to lower its shield once more. With everyone else fighting each other, they can build up a fleet and take control."

Sinak exhales with amusement. "It will never happen. Whatever Pren and Kalista think, their people have no appetite for the bloodshed that claiming suzerainty would require. Why do you think they built that shield in the first place? No, if the Citadel disappeared, it would mean chaos. You might just as well-." There's a loud buzz from the direction of the doorway to the negotiation chamber, and the first delegate walks out. Sinak rises to her feet. "My employer. See you tomorrow, Little Beast."

 

[Mr Zoat]

11th July
04:53 GMT

"How did it go?"

The Queen had already arranged accommodation. Getting here might have proved a little tricky. We're well outside the city and the local government doesn't like spacecraft flying anywhere but the cities. Especially from species with a habit of laying millions of eggs amongst the wildlife of planets they occupy. We could have hired a local vehicle, except she wouldn't fit in most of them. Fortunately, she was willing to tolerate me flying her here.

"As expected." She reaches back awkwardly to remove part of her carapace armour. "Posturing and boasting. I know nothing more about what they are seeking in our treaty now than I did when I arrived. Perhaps less."

I attach constructs to her armour, pulsing the release mechanisms and lifting the pieces away. She starts as the first comes free, then calms herself.

I'm not sure… Exactly what this place used to be. It's built like a combination of fort and warehouse complex, thick walls protecting large open rooms and wide corridors. Given how large the Queen is those are essential for her habitation. Disused arms dump, maybe? The room we're in has been stripped to the walls of whatever used to be here, an area in the centre of the room covered in two layers of what is either a mattress or a crash mat. The only other decoration is a small computer terminal of local manufacture. I deposit the Queen's personal belongings off to one side as she walks over to the mattress pad.

"Same again tomorrow?"

"That is likely." Her head rotates in my direction. "Why do they think that you are 'The Beast'?"

"He's the only other Orange Lantern active around here. Does that help you or hurt you?"

"I believe that two restrained themselves due to your presence in a way that they would not for other bodyguards. In that regard, it helped."

"Glad to be of service."

"Would you be interested in accepting a contract to render these negotiations unnecessary?"

I can guess, but… "'Unnecessary' in what regard?"

"You are capable of slaying all of the pirates here."

I tilt my head slightly to the side. "Perhaps."

"The Spider Guild has been active in this region of space for a considerable amount of time. We have heard the legends of The Beast of Okaara. When you came into our employ, we took the time to review them. And the records of those whom the Beast destroyed."

"I'm really not The Beast."

"I suspect that you are telling the truth. Still, I am curious as to what price you would ask for performing this service to us. After completing our next expansion, we would be able to increase our industrial capacities considerably. A substantial exchange in raw materials or manufactured goods would be possible."

"I have an orange power ring. If I want something I just-" Not a lot on record about Spider Guild cuisine, but I hold out my right hand and create what is essentially an invertebrate salad with.. mould sauce. "-create it." I float it over to her, and she grasps the plate with four forearms. "I noticed that you hadn't eaten anything-" She looks cautiously at it for a moment, until her arm computer pings what I assume is a 'safe' signal. "-since we arrived, and there doesn't seem to be anything here."

"I can go for substantial periods of time without eating. Still, this is appreciated." She holds the plate up to her face, larger upper mandibles reaching out for one of the larger bugs and taking hold of it with surprising delicacy. She crunches the shell, her lower mandibles feeding the parts back into her mouth. Mouth hole. It's surprisingly.. not quite as messy a process as I thought that it would be, though I can see that involving her manipulator appendages wouldn't be practical.

I turn back towards our other guest. "Felicity, what would happen if I removed your brand?"

"I'm not sure, master. I think that I would scream in terror and then flee as fast as I could, but… My head.. feels…"

"Don't worry about it."

"Okay!"

Don't.. worry about it. She did try and kill you and plunge this region into war. "Do you..? What do you think that Primus would do if you went back as you are?"

"Um, they've almost certainly moved location-" They have. I sent some Praexis Demons to their muster point. Scans didn't show anything, but I've grown rather accustomed to that not meaning very much. "-and since I'm clearly mind controlled-" She glances upwards in an attempt to see her own forehead. "-they're probably just going to avoid me."

"Do they know about this location?"

"I don't know, but, probably. Doc and Dark Flea are really good at accessing other people's data networks. And Kalista is a sorceress, so that-."

"One moment." I take two spell eaters out of my armour's pouches. One goes over Felicity's head-

"Thank you! I think it's beautiful."

-and I float the other over to the Queen, who pauses in her eating to look at it with her smaller eyes. "Explain."

"It weakens and consumes spells. My home world has a lot of magic users." She slips the thong over her upper right limb, tying it around her arm-mounted computer. "Only on loan, though. I'll want it back once we're done."

"I understand." Some more bug goes down her gullet.

"How much sleep do you need?"

Her lower mandibles pause. "After a day of little physical activity, a minimum of three hours and forty eight minutes will allow me to continue functioning. Six hours and sixteen minutes will allow me to function at full effectiveness. I suspect that one or other of my primary negotiation opponents will contact me before that."

"Do you want me to screen their calls?"

"No. Do not risk the negotiations. If they see me suffering it may mollify them somewhat."

"Alright." I wave my right hand and send out a wave of Praexis Demons to supplement the security devices I put in place on our way through. "Will you sleep here?"

"It is not ideal, but it will suffice. The two of you will remain here."

"We won't..? Keep you awake?"

"I am used to being attended at all hours. You will not disturb me."

I nod. "Alright. Felicity, what are your preferences regarding sleeping arrangements?"

She smiles cheerfully. "I would be delighted to sleep with you, master."

My skin chills.

Ring, remove all compulsions but suppress her desire to leave this room.

Compliance.

Felicity's eyes widen as she stares at me. Then they flick to the Queen before returning to me. She cringes.

"Oh no."

 

[Mr Zoat]

11th July
10:24 GMT

Remaining in my meditation pose, I slowly open my eyes. "Did you get any sleep at all?"

Behind me -but in full view of one of my Praexis Demons- Felicity cringes and pulls her blanket more closely around her.

"Felicity, that's unnecessary."

She remains completely still, eyes locked on me. "What will you do with me?"

"I'll keep you with me until the negotiations are concluded. Then… Take you to my next destination and remove the brand."

She shuffles closer, moving around my left side. "You'll let me go?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I don't want you to die. I've identified you as one of the Omega Men in public. The only reason why the Citadelians haven't demanded that I hand you over is that they think I've permanently enslaved you, and the only reason that the pirates haven't killed you is that they think I will."

"Why.. haven't you? You already made me tell you everything I know."

She's in front of me now, and shrinks back slightly as I open my eyes to look at her. "Killing someone is not so trivial a thing that I would do it over a.. clumsy, ill-considered assassination attempt. Even if that is the way things usually work around here. Your life has inherent value."

She stares, perhaps trying to work out how serious I am. Or perhaps what I'm on. "If you.. believe that, why are you trying to protect the Spider Queen?"

"Because I don't value anarchy for its own sake. And I will want a slightly better plan than blind optimism for something to replace the Citadel before I am prepared to compass the death of a billion people to serve as a distraction." Her muzzle tenses. "Did it not occur to you that if the pirate groups resumed fighting here that the population of the planet would suffer right along with them? If a ship-mounted weapon can burn through another ship's armour it can certainly do the same to a city. Or they might deliberately target a city which contained a significant number of their enemies, or their enemies' business partners." I shake my head. "I realise that it can be.. satisfying to kill the 'bad people', but that doesn't mean that anything good will come of it."

She shuffles slightly, her eyes dipping. "Where will you leave me?"

"At the moment, my next stop is Tamaran."

"You know about Tamaran?"

"It's the main reason why I came to Vega. To see if I could do something about it."

"You.. know what the Citadel did to Tamaran, and you still-?"

"Destroying the Citadel would not bring the Tamaranian dead back." I raise my right hand, generating a construct-globe showing Tamaran. Local data networks are gratifyingly open to power ring intrusion, and I've been using that fact to update myself. "It would not restore their fleet or their industry."

"The Gordanians destroyed their capital city! They abduct and steal-!"

"Yes. I know." In point of fact they didn't destroy Tamarus. They fired on it from orbit and killed thousands of people, but the city is spread over a much larger area and they didn't target the centre. But that's not really the point. The local Gordanians don't have the numbers or the wits to conquer Tamaran outright, so they limit themselves to brutalising and extorting the place. I feel my lips curling as the disgust flows through me. "And I'm probably going to have to do something about them. But when I do, I will have a plan in place as to how to deal with the fallout."

She crouches, sitting back on her haunches. "You mean that. You don't doubt for a moment that you can destroy them."

"Based on what I've seen so far, no, I don't doubt it."

"You could work with us!" I wince inwardly. "If you-."

"Persuade Primus to come up with a workable plan, and I will give it due consideration." Because I imagine that he's been thinking about it for some time and while he knows far more about the whole situation than I do he might have a slight bias that I'm going to need to work around.

"His plans are-."

Boooorp. Boooorp. Booor-.

The Queen is awake and pressing the 'accept' button on the terminal before I can turn around. "I hear you."

"The meeting will begin in seventeen minutes. Be there."

"I will-". The panel deactivates. The Queen blinks once and then extends her legs, raising her abdomen from the mattress. "Orange Lantern, I will need your assistance if I am to be ready."

I rise to my feet, turning as I do so and walking toward her. "Getting your armour on shouldn't take anything like that long." I tag the first part with a filament and lift it-.

"There is something else you must do first. There is a gel amongst my belongings that should be applied to my carapace before the armour is put on."

Huh. I'd thought that was some sort of Spider-food. I put the armour down and use the ring to bring a tub of the stuff over to me. "Just apply an even layer all over?"

"It is most important that it covers my joints. The motor systems in the armour supersede my natural hydraulics, and that can lead to my joints becoming painful."

"Not a problem." I float up over the lip of the mattress and use a construct to pull the lip of the tub. Doesn't really.. smell of anything very much. Two more constructs grab blobs of the stuff and-.

"I would appreciate it if you could apply it by hand. I am… Not comfortable with your glowing objects."

"That… Might push us for time." I land on the mattress just behind her, pulling a blob over to me. I send my arm armour and robes into subspace before putting my hands into it. Hah, if my massage teacher back in Happy Harbour could see me now.

"As long as my legs are covered, it should not prove too unpleasant."

Hm. Alright. No sense in dillydallying. I put my hands on her carapace where her rear left leg joins the-.

There appears to be a.. hole, just behind the second leg to the rear.

"Um. What's.. that..?"

The Queen rotates her head to see what I'm looking at. "One of my spiracles. Those will also require attention. Carefully ensure that the near-interior is lubricated so that my armour's breathing systems can form an interface."

Oh, breathing hole. For a moment there I thought… Well, she is naked. She probably has a reproductive opening somewhere around here, but wherever it is, it's reasonably well concealed by her carapace. I offered to give her a medical scan on the way down, but she turned it down. Obviously that wouldn't stop me, but I think it would be a good idea to kick the habit of scanning everyone prior to my meeting with the Controllers. It would be a bit of a faux pas to scan them, after all.

I work my way down the rear left leg, then start on the second. "I couldn't help but notice that you're physically quite dissimilar to most Spider Guild members."

"My Nest specialises in biological modification. I will not provide further information on this subject."

"Alright." The Spider Guild doesn't have any particular prohibition on any area of research, but advanced biology isn't usually their thing. Second leg done, and I move onto the third. The spiracle looks slightly inflamed… Best be extra careful with it.

"Ah!"

"Sorry! I'll be more gentle. Just hold still."

"A-ah!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

11th July
07:13 GMT -6

I sit cross-legged in the mana infusion chamber, contemplating my next step.

"You know… I had been planning to visit the Vega Systems about now."

Ghia'ta nods. "And the Anti-Life has made you change your plans."

"No." Hm. "Sort of. Really, it was more… Jade. I mean, I'm certainly weaker than I was. Going there would be… More of a risk now. But with New God technology, I don't think that even the Psions could stop me. Not if I struck hard and fast."

Ghia'ta smiles at me with an innocence that is both wonderful and painful to behold. "You are staying here because you wish to reignite the flame of love that lies between you?"

I look down at the polished stone floor. "No. No, I'm not."

But isn't that… Tempting.

"Why? Why would you refuse-?"

"Because I'm-." Because I can barely think about her without feeling the Anti-Life stirring. Because I was locked in a mental loop of her rejecting me for nearly two weeks and it was horrific. "Because I'm not making any important decisions that I can avoid until I'm certain that my thoughts and feelings are my own again. That I'm.. whole.. again."

"Oh." She looks away. "I see."

I asked Scott for his best estimate on my recovery, and that turned out to be 'months, if ever'. If it turns out that I've become permanently crippled then I'll consider more extreme methods… But I'm not going to worry about that at the moment. At least I got my left middle finger back.

Of course, if it's going to be months anyway, then there's not much point in me staying in here. Am I..? Hiding out in my safe place..?

Heh. Pathetic.

But what to do instead? I want Lex to find his own level… And I certainly don't want him to see me at anything less than my best, so looming over him is out. Trying to properly mend relations with the League might be a good idea. Pure luck that Captain Adams wasn't here when Darkseid paid me a visit…

I come to my feet, looking inquisitively at Ghia'ta. "Other than keeping tabs on me, what do you want to do with your time here?"

"I wish to learn how Humans love. How they express love and how they feel it."

"Because your aunt made a mess of Carol Ferris?"

She looks.. a little unhappy about the way I phrased that as I walk past her, out of the infusion chamber and in the direction of Sunset's laboratory. "No. That is…" I can hear her slump. "Perhaps if I met her-."

"Oh, that's something you should build up to. Quite aside from the way it messed up her personal life, a lot of what your people did with her were criminal acts. I doubt that she'll be in a forgiving mood."

"Then… Building up to that is what I should do. I.. believe in the wonder of love, and if my knowledge is flawed in some way then that is something which I must address."

I nod, more to myself than her. "I can respect that. Are you interested in pursuing a romantic relationship yourself while you are here? I know any number of people of good character to whom I could introduce you."

"... On… Zamaron… We… Practise.. love as a community-."

"Polyamory is unusual here on Earth, but I imagine that you could find a group if you wanted. Strikes me as a sub-par jumping on point, but if that's what you're used to..."

"I… Meant that we have an intense sororal love, not that we are romantically in love with one another."

"Okay, but you're out of your familial home now. The option's there."

"Perhaps… At some point."

I nod once again, then come to a halt and knock on Sunset's door.

"Just a minute!"

Immediate response, no obvious stutter. Mild improvement. That pleases me. As does the fact that it doesn't take her anything like a minute to open the door. She's dressed.. neatly, no lab coat or work overalls. She blinks up at me. "Oh. Grayven. I wasn't expecting you. Is the..? Infuser working properly?"

I shrug. "So far as I can tell. Thank you, again, for what you managed to do for me."

She shrugs her right shoulder, her right hand briefly taking hold of her upper left arm before falling to her side. "It wasn't… I mean, I had to work with Zatanna to make it."

"And I'll be sure to thank her as well."

She looks away with a slight huff. "No, I mean… I should have been able to do this on my own!" She stares up at me, and she's… She's actually looking quite annoyed with herself. "I come from a whole species of magic users, and I couldn't make a.. stupid.. magic infuser on my own."

"Sunset." I kneel down and put my right hand on her left shoulder. "You had to learn an entirely alien magic system-."

"I got distracted. I was.. having fun just.. playing around. All I've been doing is testing out magic theories when I should have been making things." She turns away, walking back into her laboratory. I wait a moment, then stand and follow her inside. "I wanted to talk things through with Zatanna-."

"Sunset. Have you made a friend?"

She stops dead still. "Ah..? Maybe..?"

"And Grayven beats Celestia one-nil!"

She spins around, fists balled. "How can you not take this seriously! We nearly-. You nearly-!"

"Yeah. And it was pretty horrible. Then life carried on. Darkseid would like nothing better than for everything to be about him. And I am treating him with deadly seriousness. But not every thought I think will be about him, not every action I take will be about him. The antidote to Anti-Life -it turns out- is life." Her fists open, her palms slightly reddened where her fingernails were pressing into her skin. "What are you working on now?"

"Magic disruptors." She walks over to a workbench upon which sits a series of rune-inscribed pieces of metal. "With everything I've learned about soul structures and.. what I was studying before about how Pony magics combine in Alicorns, I should be able to make a weapon that pulls it all apart. Or at least makes it so a person can't use magic. I'm just… Having trouble making it efficient enough."

Hush tube.

By your command.

The portal appears next to Sunset, the far terminus being just outside Shadowcrest.

"Shall we?" Sunset nods, picking up a bundle of papers and her tablet before striding through. "Ghia'ta, you may find this instructive."

"In what way?"

"I think that speaking to Zatanna's father Giovanni might further your understanding of love."

She smiles hopefully. "Is he in love?"

I consider for a moment. "Probably. He's a widower. His wife died horribly about fourteen years ago, and I'm given to understand that he has shown no interest in other women since then. He was also willing to spend the rest of his life locked in a dark void to save his daughter from that fate. He loves, but I'm not sure that he's benefited much from it."

"I.. am.. not sure that is what I came here to learn."

I turn my head her way. "As I know full well, love isn't just good feelings. And no complete understanding can be had without also understanding the rest." I look away from her and start walking towards the portal. "But the choice is yours. Uncomfortable wisdom or blissful ignorance."

I smile slightly as I hear her start after me.