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

[Mr Zoat]

Headhunting

14th August
19:24 GMT

I get a few odd looks as I thread my way through the streets of the imaginatively named Korugar City. Actually, its name is rather emblematic of the political problems facing the whole of the planet. It used to be called Sinestro City, and before that it was a scrubby bit of nowhere whose sole claim to fame was not being part of the territory of any of the three belligerent powers whose conflict blighted the lives of everyone living on Korugar. When Sinestro took over he had the new planetary capital built here, making a point about new beginnings and moving on from old follies. The government he set up named it in his honour, a vote of thanks from the people he saved from neutronic self-annihilation. Then, when he was arrested by Jordan and his government collapsed, the new governors all wanted to move the parliament somewhere else but couldn't agree on where. Then they sort of agreed to a rotating system where they would go from old capital to old capital, but the money wasn't in the budget and the Anti-Nationalists didn't like the way it eroded central government and the smaller nations didn't like getting excluded and all the offices of state were in Sinestro City anyway…

"Wrong time place opportunity."

So they didn't so much agree to leave it here as fail to agree on how to move it. Then came the issue of the name of the place, which clearly had to be changed. It actually stayed as Sinestro City for three years while they argued over it, the names of various national heroes being mooted and dismissed, sometimes for blatantly partisan reasons and at others because they'd done truly monstrous things against the people now being expected to use their name for the planetary capital. For a while they were just going to call it 'Capital City', but it was pointed out that aliens would probably find that confusing and the generic nature of it was just sort of silly.

So, the Anti-Nationalists suggested Korugar City. The city that serves as the planetary capital of Korugar.

Makes perfect sense.

Not a lot of aliens come to Korugar these days, and those that do tend to stick to the areas around the starport. I'm not sure exactly why, but Korugarians don't have much variation in skin tone. Unless they're wearing makeup, the red-purple is pretty much universal, and black or dark grey hair is near-universal as well. Actual grey, rather than black interspersed with white as it is for Humans. I see a few dyed hairdos, but for the most part the locals seem inclined to leave the individuality in the styling.

"Colouration skin advertisement?"

Probably a fascinating case study for a sociologist. Humans might organise themselves into groups based on physical appearances, but a society of humanoids who don't have those differences? Maybe I could dump Miss Leelyu here? Not like she needs to stay on Tamaran any longer…

"Sexual consideration."

Quite a few security officers around, and even more monitor drones. I'm putting out a weak disruption field, but that's legal as long it isn't strong enough to obscure conventional power sources or chemical residues. Korugar knows what power rings can do, and having gone two for two I doubt that the police would make an exception based on colour. Violence has -unfortunately- become a part of Korugarian political discourse since Sinestro's ejection from office, all of those who embraced the gun to fight the tyrant finding that their interests no longer coincide. And since one of the few things that the nationalists agree on is that they don't want their current Green Lanterns setting foot here, that's probably going to rumble on until either the planetary government fails or…

Heh, until the Sinestro Corps occupies the place and reunifies everyone.

"Taste debris poisoning."

Shouldn't really.. joke about that. As far as I know, Sinestro doesn't have a Corps yet and he hasn't been back here for years. But if he ever did, an awful lot of people would die.

Target in sight.

"Thank you."

Since I'm not wearing a power ring, I've got.. limited translation. I remember reading a book a while ago where it was commented on that most of the world reads the internet in broken text because the stuff they want to read is in English and as they don't understand English they use Google translate to change it to something they can read. And since no one off Earth speaks English I.. really struggled to get a commercially available translator that would work at all. I'm wearing a pair of goggles which -after a second or two- will best-fit any text I look at. English is reasonably flexible, but it's not this flexible.

And the spoken version…

"Warm animal paste cup!"

Well.

Most travellers hear the universe like this, unless they take the time to learn the local language. In an area where the same few languages get used people might fine-tune the system to something a little less stupid-sounding, but the rest of us are stuck with something rough and ready.

Or we get a power ring.

The café up ahead does a good business at this time of day. It's close to the city's largest hospital and we're just past the shift change. It's also close to the city's medical school, which means that former students who have moved on to public practice tend to come back here. Including the woman I want to recruit.

I know full well that under other circumstances she might have ended up joining the Green Lantern Corps. But this Sector has at least one perfectly capable Greenie at the moment, and as far as I can tell she wouldn't have been recruited for… Let's see, newly qualified doctor to fully qualified surgeon… Six years? Thereabouts. In the mean time, I need a chief of medicine who can heal by wanting people to be better.

She's sitting at a table, distinctive double triangle tattoo on her left cheek. She's drinking… A tea, probably. The liquid is translucent and a sort of brown-orange. She's drinking slowly and trying to wind down from the work day. The café is busy and there's a spare seat across the table from her.

And here comes the awkward bit. Because while what I say is:

"Would you mind if I sat here?"

What comes out is:

"Seat object presence?"

She looks up in mild surprise, her eyes widening slightly when she realises that I'm no Korugarian. She blinks as she masters her expression, taking a moment to study the structure of my face.

And while I suspect that she says something along the lines of: "Ah, yeah, sure."

What I actually hear is: "Uncertain, acquiescence to request."

I smile. "Thank you." That's a reasonably safe bet. I sit down opposite her and a waitress hurries in my direction.

"Ingestion query?"

I know nothing about Korugarian food. As far as I know, the only other Human to have eaten anything here is Jordan and I never asked him about it. On the other hand, Dr Natu's tea smells palatable enough. I raise my right hand and point to her mug. "Copy, please."

Already I'm simplifying my vocabulary in order to be more likely to get a sensible translation, even if I do end up sounding like an idiot. Korugarians are probably used to the idea of how these sorts of translator make you sound. I hope. The waitress seems to get the idea, nodding and walking back towards the kitchen area.

"Alien presence Korugar?"

The level of illumination here is quite good, and the café's monitoring systems aren't as good as those on the main street. I could probably get away with using the ring to translate what she says to me, but going the other way contains far too much risk that she'll spot that my mouth isn't moving in the right way to create the sounds I'm apparently using. I reach my left hand into the pocket where my ring is secreted, touching the inner surface with the tip of my middle finger. I then raise my eyebrows and give my head a small shake.

"I said, what brings you to Korugar?"

I remove my finger. "Job. Headhunter."

 

[Mr Zoat]

14th August
19:33 GMT

Doctor Natu regards me with a look of discomfort. "I don't think that translated properly. You.. hunt heads?"

And naturally enough the translator struggles with metaphor. How to explain this while talking like a moron? "Not trophy. Head content. Ah, you labour?"

"I'm a surgeon."

I nod. "Your head, medicine. Want Korugar surgeon? Pay me, I find you."

She nods, exhaling slightly in relief. "You're an employment agent."

"I hunt rare head. Very special content."

"Oh, I didn't mean to insult-" We both lean back slightly as the waitress puts my drink down in front of me. "-your.. skills."

I wave my right hand. "No easy offend." I glance at the waitress, smiling broadly. "Thank you."

She smiles back faintly, then strides off towards another table.

"Are you hunting anyone here?"

"Big commission. Hunt many." I pause, as if giving the matter consideration. "Got important heads. Maybe more?"

"So you've got most of the people you're looking for?" I nod. "I don't recognise your species. Are you from.. anywhere near here?"

"Not close." I hold my hands up to my chest, making a circle with my thumbs and forefingers. Then I take my right hand away and point my right index finger at where the middle of the circle was. "Galaxy core." I move my finger again. "Korugar." I lower my finger slightly. "Earth."

Sector 1417 is north north east and 'up' from Earth. Closer than Maltus, further than the Vega Systems. Funny thing about distances in the galaxy when you can move as fast point-to-point as I can: approximate locations don't really matter. Exact locations matter as I do want to be able to find places, but rough locations are irrelevant as whatever the answer is it wouldn't prevent me getting there.

Doctor Natu's eyes unfocus slightly as she tries to put numbers to my mummery. "That's quite a way. Do you travel a lot?"

"Yes." I grin, nodding emphatically as I pick up my mug and raise it to my mouth. Ah, no, too hot. For a moment I'm reminded of the story of a coach load of English people on holiday in Texas, their introduction to ice tea and the resulting hundred person simultaneous spit-take. Heh, I'm only the second member of my species to ever come to this planet, and the last one overthrew their government. I should really be on my best behaviour. "This hunt, and before. You?"

"It's…" She looks away, shaking her head slightly. "Korugar's a lot more.. isolated, since we overthrew Sinestro. The other planets around here remember him as a hero. They didn't have to live under him. Oh." She wiggles her head slightly. "Sinestro... He was the.. Green Lantern who used to work in this region of space."

"Known."

"Right, you… Probably researched the whole thing before coming here." She looks out of the window for a moment. "Just about the only thing we agree on is that we hate him. And because he became so powerful because of a group of aliens and aliens still like him… People from Korugar don't travel all that much." She looks back at me, smiling slightly wistfully as she picks up her mug. "Not that I'd be able to afford to for years anyway. I'm going to be paying off my education until I'm forty."

I nod, sympathetically. "Ship surgeon?"

She shakes her head. "General practitioners and exobiological specialists work on ships. The only places that want surgical specialists are large mining outposts where they know they'll have work for us. And anyway, I'd have to pay back the government bursary I got for agreeing to work in a state hospital when I graduated. I'd be working in the mines until I was fifty, and there's only so much rock I think I could take."

"Ah." I nod. "Sympathy."

"So? Who are you working for? There can't be that many corporations who can afford to send someone all over the galaxy looking for employees?"

"Very old species. Few. Powerful. Not…" I make a vague circling motion with my hands to indicate our general environment.

"Not from around here?" I nod. "What sort of person were you looking for?"

"First; boss organiser."

Boss organiser? Really? That's the problem with ranks as opposed to jobs. They can be so culturally specific that they usually don't translate as anything sensible. Sergeant and Captain don't really have precise equivalents in languages whose people don't have the same peasant/aristocrat divide in their militaries that Earth does. At best I'd get 'squad leader' and 'military middle manager'. And director? What, they direct cars? Stage productions? I remember that in 'The Damned' series by Alan Foster the forces of the Purpose called their officers 'unifiers'. Literally, the people whose job it is to keep everyone working together.

"Boss or-? Oh." She makes an amused exhalation. "I think you need a better translator."

"Agree."

"So these… Ancient aliens are starting some sort of organisation and they want someone to run it." I nod. "And then, the rest of the management team?" I nod again, and she raises her left eyebrow. "And they decided that the best way to find the people they wanted was to hire you."

"Good previous employer report."

Which is a lie, obviously. I doubt very much that the League would give me a favourable write up.

"Must be very good." She takes a sip from her mug. "So what sort of person were you looking for?"

"Intelligent. Very intelligent. Motivated. Sagacious. Available."

"Did you have a list to work from..?"

"No. Already head, recruit. Lost individual."

"You knew who you wanted but didn't know where they were." I nod. "So where did you start?"

"Vega Systems." That's a nice and easy translation. Though that isn't what other species call it, it's a label for a place. The system can easily substitute the equivalent.

Doctor Natu frowns slightly. "Isn't Vega full of pirates and warlords?"

"Now?" I shake my head. "No. Close, mercenary. Match species hunt target."

"That doesn't mean they'd know them."

"Famous father." I smile inwardly at the obvious parallel. "All species know."

"Would I know them?"

I shrug. "Perhaps."

"Well, who are they? A musician? A merchant?"

"Vril Dox, the Maniac of Yod. Dictator of Colu."

"I.. think I've heard of him. He's also called.. Brainiac?" I nod. "And you wanted his son?"

"Yes."

"Did.. you get him?"

I pick up my mug to take a sip. "Interesting story."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd July
13:44 GMT

I'm not sure what I was expecting. Some sort of.. heavily armoured brick of a space station, probably. But apparently Amalak has more highly cultivated tastes. His training centre on Dryanna is situated amongst meadows of pale green grass analogues and a short distance from a large forest of.. youngish-looking trees. As I watch a platoon of heavily armoured soldiers begin what looks like a double-pace march out of the main courtyard entrance and down the main approach road.

"Sir?"

I look around and make eye contact with the gunner of one of the craft escorting me down. Picturesque as the environment is, this is still a military facility controlled by a very successful mercenary commander. Once I requested a meeting they weren't just going to let me fly around on my own recognisance. I mean, I'm perfectly capable of forcing my way in if I really have to, but that would waste an awful lot of effort on my part.

"Yes?"

"The Commodore is ready for you now on the southern veranda. If you'd like to follow us?"

"Lead the way."

The two aircraft dip and turn, heading for the south side of the facility where Amalak's personal accommodation is situated. I head after them. The design reminds me of GDI Orca aircraft, thrust provided by directional turbofans. It looks like Amalak believes that what works in space isn't necessarily what works in an atmosphere. And he's right, it's just that the cost of developing separate vehicles is usually great enough that most navies don't bother doing much work on the 'poor relations'.

Amalak himself is standing out on the wooden veranda, looking up at us as we come in. I can see a couple of bodyguards on standby, but they're clearly trying to be unobtrusive. The two aircraft come to-. Hah! They come to attention, stopping a precise distance in front of him and holding position perfectly for seven seconds. Then he nods and waves his right arm in dismissal. They take that as the signal to rise and move to the east until they have enough space to avoid hitting him with their backwash.

"Orange Lantern!" He waves at me with both arms as I approach, smiling broadly. "To what do we owe the pleasure!"

I float down through the air, landing on the decking just in front of him and inclining my head politely. "Commodore. Does the treaty hold?"

He nods, folding his arms behind his back. "For the most part. A few freebooters acted up a short while ago, but the matter was resolved with reasonable civility. Between the major parties, at least." He holds out his right arm in the direction of the entrance to his office cum living quarters. "Shall we?"

I nod. "Thank you." He leads the way and I make a point of looking around our environment. "Did you do the landscaping yourself, or did it come like this?"

"Alas, no." He sighs faintly, bowing his head. "When I purchased the land there was virtually nothing here. Everything I've had planted was cultivated from samples from my original homeworld, Timaron." He glances back at me. "Have you heard of it?"

"Timaron, Sector Two Eight One Three."

"Ah." He smiles again, pleased at the recognition. "And how did you hear of it?"

"My own homeworld is in the next Sector over, and I.. have access to Green Lantern Corps records."

"I don't suppose that… Your world plays host to any of my species, does it? Given what happened… There are so few of us left that I've been attempting to assemble a genetic database… Any new contacts at all…"

"I'm sorry, but-" We pass through the doorway. "-except for those of us who cheat, my homeworld doesn't have interstellar travel yet."

He nods sadly. "A pity."

"My.. records say that your homeworld was subjected to some sort of attack, but I don't know-."

"Krypton." His jaw hardens as he walks towards his private bar. "It was Krypton. They didn't have much of a navy, but we had even less. I'd have taken revenge for it myself by now but their world was destroyed not long after, while I was but a boy. Not that that does my people any good."

"That was… About forty years ago?"

"That's right. Drink?"

"Just water, thank you. Forty years ago General Zod would have been in charge of the Kryptonian Self-Defence Force. He was imprisoned for treason shortly afterwards."

"I'll remember that if I ever meet the man." He uses tongs to put three pieces of ice each into two glasses and then pours a finger of a cloudy pink liquid into one and water into the other. Then he picks up both glasses and walks towards me, holding the water filled glass out to me.

I take it from him with my right hand. "Thank you."

He raises his in a toast, and action I mirror. "Let no new thing arise."

"Cheers."

We both take a sip and then he lowers his glass, looking thoughtful. "I heard from some contacts of mine in Vega that the forces of the Citadel Empire are… Behaving somewhat erratically."

"I killed the First a couple of days ago. The cybernetic implants their higher-ups had in their brains were basically there to let him control them. With him dead, they're probably all stuck on stupid mode."

"Aah." His eyes grow a little distant as he considers the information. "And the Beast?"

"Disarmed and imprisoned. His slaves are still in his cave, but they won't go anywhere else without his direction."

"The Citadelians reduced to simpletons. There's an opportunity there."

"Tamaran's mine, and don't go near the Forbidden Forest on Okaara. Other than that, if you can create stability, go for it."

"I'm not quite that bold. But if I could tempt some of their soldiers to work for me, that would give me a substantial boost to my marines' forces."

"As you will." I take another sip. Huh. No drugs at all. Should I be insulted..?

"You still haven't said why you're here."

"I'm looking for a Coluan."

"You can't have mine."

I hold up my left hand in a 'stop' gesture, shaking my head as I do so. "I wouldn't dream of poaching staff from you. But I'm hoping that she can give me more information on the state of Colu and the location of the man I'm looking for. Is she in residence?"

He looks slightly puzzled. "You won't have much fortune finding Coluans anywhere other than Colu. And while the Computer Tyrants might be willing to sell one to you, I wouldn't want to risk it in your place."

"I believe.. that the individual I'm looking for is something of a special case. Would you mind..? Calling her in?"

"Not at all." He taps a metallic circle on his left forearm. "Vran, would you mind coming to my lounge? I have a guest who wishes to speak with you."

"On my way."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd July
13:52 GMT

"Orange Lantern."

"Miss Gozzi."

Her expression is neutral, looking neither pleased or displeased, surprised or expectant. I'm tempted to think that that's a Coluan thing, but I don't have anything like enough data to conclude that.

Commodore Amalak raises a decanter of something blue from behind his bar. "Vran?"

She doesn't look around, preferring to focus her attention on me. "Water, please."

"Both of you?" Amalak sounds mildly put out, and his tone causes Miss Gozzi to frown slightly, glancing his way and then back at me as I raise my own glass. "What's the point of owning these drinks if my business partners refuse to share them with me and be appropriately impressed by my generosity?"

I smile at his good humour, taking a sip of my water as I do so.

"How can I assist?"

Realising that she's not going to change her mind, Amalak tosses back his own drink and pours another of the blue stuff. "Orange Lantern wants to know something you might know, and I think that it's in the interests of our organisation to further improve our relationship."

She nods. "I have not yet been able to learn anything definitive regarding the Citadelian implants. If you wait a few days I can focus my efforts-."

She cuts herself off as I shake my head. "I already know. The implants connected every Citadelian to the First. He was able to keep them unified by sharing his own way of thinking."

"The First Citadelian?" She frowns. "I had assumed that he was long since dead. What evidence do you have?"

I raise my left hand and generate a construct image of our confrontation, letting it play with subtitles as I continue talking. "A few months ago I had to recall my ring from a considerable distance away, and inadvertently called rings out of the Beast's cave on Okaara. Five of them found their way into the hands of the Citadel. One he kept for himself, the other four he gave to new-generation 'smart' Citadelians." I speed up the images as the talking stops and the fighting begins. "As you might deduce by the fact that I'm standing here and the Citadel Empire is in disarray-."

"With the First's death the implants no longer serve any purpose. Or at least can't unify the Citadelians in the same way." She watches carefully as I shoot the First dead, then I dismiss the construct. "Their empire will survive on inertia and ignorance for a time, but you fought him openly. That information will spread."

"I had always aimed on taking down the Citadel eventually. This will just speed things up a little. But it isn't why I wanted to speak to you."

"Clearly."

"I was wondering if you could give me a lead on the present location of Vril Dox."

I see a coil of fear within her. "No. I have no idea where he went after abandoning Colu to his creations. And getting further information would be far too risky for me to attempt it out of mere curiosity. The security systems of the Computer Tyrants are exceedingly comprehensive." She takes a deep breath, her equanimity returning. "If you wish to look for him I would suggest asking the Computer Tyrants yourself. If anyone is still in contact with him, it will be them, and they may be prepared to trade knowledge to an alien."

Why-? Oh, she thinks I mean Brainiac, or… I knew Vril was a clone, I didn't realise they had the same name. Oh dear. I have.. assumed that Vril-. That Brainiac 2 exists here. But if Brainiac just never decided to create a cloned lab assistant…

"Ah, no. I heard a… Rumour that Brainiac had a clone-son..? It was him I was hoping to track down, not the original." Although… "Not yet, at any rate. I can't imagine Brainiac treating anyone as an equal, so I suspect that such a boy would possess his primogenitor's intelligence while utterly hating the man. Such a person would be very useful to me."

"During the period in which he ruled Colu, Vril Dox did not share information on his personal life with the population. If he did clone himself there-" She raises her hands into a typing pose and a holoscreen appears in front of her. "-would be little directly observable evidence." She begins typing, data scrolling across the screen in several directions as she accesses her own intelligence sources. "Can I assume that this 'rumour' does in fact have a solid espionage base?"

"I have… Access to unusual sources of information."

"That woman in the background. A Guardian?"

"Not any more. She quit about three billion years ago."

"Hm."

"Speaking of which…" I look over to Amalak. "Green Man hasn't given you any trouble, has he?"

He moves his glass away from his mouth and swallows. "He's watching us, but as yet he hasn't taken any action against us. The Crown Imperium have increased their force concentration near their border, but they're keeping away from Jarko's territory. It looks like a purely defensive posture. Reminding us that while they can't chase down every raider they can strike at our bases with a level of force which we can't stop." He smiles with the left side of his mouth. "Yet, at any rate."

"Commodore. Please, try to avoid antagonising the largest stable civilisation in this region of space."

"Oh." He waves his glass vaguely. "It won't come to blows. Just a little sabre-rattling to reassure Jarko that I'm on his side." He smiles suddenly. "Oh, that reminds me: your Spider-friend-."

"I may have what you want." I turn back to Miss Gozzi. Her text screen has now been joined by the image of an orange-yellow toblerone-shaped ship. "Most races with any sense have avoided Colu since Vril Dox seized power. The only exception is this vessel."

"Who owns it?"

"The Dominion."

The Dominators. I thought I remembered something about them being involved. Culturally, they're quite a lot like the Psions in an 'evil science race' sort of way. Unlike the Psions, the Dominators are tightly unified and tend to avoid direct confrontation. They buy small numbers of slaves for experimentation, but their most notable-.

"Is there a Dominator prison in the area?"

"Yes." Another image flashes up and oh my goodness me. That's a big one.

Dominator run prisons are famously hard to escape from. They're also fairly popular with interstellar civilisations as the Dominators are perfectly happy to hold prisoners cheaply. In return for a tithe of the prisoners for the purpose of biological experimentation, though the Dominators take care to generally only use the worst inmates. Unless they get someone really interesting. Ugh, very high end sensors, minefield and shields, and most likely exotic defences as well. Not to mention a small patrol fleet and Dominion fleet reinforcements not too far away. Getting in there is not going to be easy.

"Have you got precise details on their defences?"

"No, only a partial plan." I feel the data packet being relayed to my ring. "Obviously, you did not receive that from us. We have no desire to confront the Dominion."

"Any idea what they want with a Coluan?"

"If a clone of Vril Dox is indeed being held there, I would guess that they wish to use him to better predict the actions of his sire. Coluan neurophysiology is sophisticated, but if they simply wished to study our brains then there are far easier members of our species to acquire. I personally am more concerned with what they gave the Computer Tyrants in exchange."

"Problem for another day." I nod to her and then to my host. "Thank you both for your help. Now, if you'll excuse me. I have a prison to break."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd July
23:28 GMT

I'VE WANTED TO COME HERE FOR SO LONG!

I'm descending towards ground level past literal tree-skyscrapers! Not trees as big as skyscrapers or trees with habitats bolted on, no. These are literal trees that are literal skyscrapers. And from the glows I'm seeing from them, also sentient creatures! They have windows made from cellulose and a bio-engineered wax, interior spaces and exits, their leaves not only gather sunlight but generate electricity and act as satellite dishes!

J is the first world I've visited which feels completely alien. Like someone took the developmental path of a normal world and just span a load of dials to see what would happen.

Shame they couldn't come up with a better name for the place.

A cluster of broccoli-headed locals crossing one of the sky walkways between colossal tree-habitats stops to stare at me. They have turnip-dogs! That's a turnip-dog! I turn in the air and float closer, waving as I go.

"Hello, plant people!"

That warrants some stalk-twitching and mono-blinking as they look at each other nervously.

One with bark of mottled brown raises his right hand. "Ah. Hello… Meat person?"

"You!" I struggle to suppress a laugh as I jab my right index finger at him. "You are now my second favourite person on this planet."

"Oooookay..?"

"But I'm here looking for Lantern Medphyll. Do you know where I can find him?"

"Ah." He points in the general direction I was heading. "Head.. that way until you get to the lizard garden, then turn left?"

"Thank you!"

I turn away, accelerating towards the… Lizard garden. I remember from the comic covering Swamp Thing's visit here -and confirmed by John's ring- that the plant life forms of this world have considerably more sophisticated neural development than the animals. Most animal species which survive into the modern era are pseudo-reptiles with tiny brains, just about capable of moving, eating and mating under their own power in response to environmental chemical triggers. I wonder if I can see one of those weird art places where they splice animals together to create horrible monster-installations?

I mean, yes, I may be blocked off from the Green Lantern Corps' communication system but I can scan his location perfectly well. Then.. I could have contacted him by plant-phone or something. But I want to see all of this! And be seen, because that comic made it look like a lot of the people around here are neurotic messes. And not give him much warning, because then he would probably ask the Guardians for advice rather than make his own decision.

"No, don't do that. Phyllys, come away from them."

I glance down… And… No grass, obviously. Instead, the ground is covered in… Some sort of crab-like creature. They filter feed on soil bacteria! Fascinating! The locals stand on them without really thinking about it, and the creatures themselves appear to be unharmed by that treatment. A child is picking them up and throwing them at one of the chained lizards that are the garden's… Lizardbed.

"Phyllys, people spent a lot of time making the lizards look nice. You're messing up their work."

An individual I'm going to assume is Phyllys' parent is trying and failing to make their authority stick. Child acting up in public. I can sympathise. The… Ah, I think female, puts her hand on her hips. The child doesn't look around as they pick up another grass crab.

"What am I going to do with you?"

I drop down just behind her, most of the park's other visitors.. not fleeing, but certainly deciding that they have urgent business elsewhere.

"Madam? Perhaps if I tried."

She sighs as she starts to turn. "Look, I'm perfectly capabloh Great O!" Her head fronds fall back in shock.

"No, he's taller than me." I raise my right index finger to my lips. "Shhhhhh."

"Ah…"

"Just a little harmless prank." I walk past her, heading towards her charge. "Excuse me?"

"They don't move much." The child throws another crab, hitting a lizard right on the snout. Brown-grey blood leaks out from the point of impact, though the lizard itself doesn't react. There's… It has eyes, but… They don't focus on its environment.

Plants are animals. Animals are plants.

"No, they don't. But you're still not supposed to throw things at them."

"No one really cares."

"No, the gardeners do. In fact, I hear they bred a really big animal just so they could send it after anyone who messed up their work."

"Nuh-" The child throws another crab. "-uh."

"Un-huh. I hear it's really sneaky. I bet something like that could act like a person until it was right on top of you and ready to pounce."

"You're not-" The child starts to turn. "-my Muaaaaaggggghhhh!"

The child falls onto its bottom, frantically scrabbling for purchase on the crab-covered ground.

"Aaaaagh!"

I grin toothily, eyes wide. "Hello there."

The child turns its body around while still keeping their eye on me, scrabbles forwards and slams face first into a lizard. They bounce back and then look at what they just slammed into.

"Aaaagh!"

The lizard doesn't react as the child jumps to their feet and stumbles away, then realises that they're stumbling towards me. They stop for a moment and run around me in an arc before grabbing their mother around the legs and quietly hyperventilating.

"And that's why we don't mess with the-"

A green barrier wall appears in front of me.

"-lizards." I look up as Lantern Medphyll floats down to the ground. "Lantern Medphyll." I bow. "A pleasure to meet you in person."

The child's mother glances nervously at me as she leads her suddenly considerably more biddable child away.

"Orange Lantern." He dismisses the barrier. "Why are you on my homeworld?"

"I wanted to thank you for your help last year."

"Were you able to save the plant life form?"

I bow my head. "Sadly, no. Though, we did confirm that it wasn't mentally sophisticated, so the loss is less grievous than it would have been."

"I see. I have heard your thanks. Was there something else?"

"Could you possibly please teach me how to control plants?" Medphyll stares at me for a moment. "You see, I know that Dominator computers are plant-based and I-."

"No."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd July
23:43 GMT

"…possible for a member of your species-"

"It totally is."

"-it would still take years to learn." He flies ahead of me in the classical swimmer pose, heading towards a modest plant-building I assume is his home. "Are you prepared to stay here for all that time?"

"I'd… Rather not. Look, I don't need to get that good, I just need to… Disrupt.. a few plants. Briefly. In a way that someone who wasn't familiar with the technique couldn't block."

"Disrupt-?" Still lying onward, he turns his head back towards me. "Would you like me to teach others how to 'disrupt' all animal life?"

"You do have a power ring. I.. sort of assumed that you.. could already."

He turns his face once more towards his destination, coming in to land just in front of his front door. I come down just behind him, not quite touching the ground. Some.. bare earth, but the roads and pavements are… Modified root systems? The door is a vine of some kind, and it sort of… Twists away in a spiral as Medphyll walks up to it. I stay floating there as he walks inside and a small crowd forms in a semi-circle around me at what I think they think is a safe distance.

"Are you coming?"

Ah, good. "Yes, thank you." I turn my head to nod at the crowd, then land and go after him at a jog. The floor of his home is -obviously- wood, but it's bark, this house is alive-.

The door-vine closes behind me.

"Ah, house?"

"It won't work."

He's moved further in, into what looks like a living area. "Is it deaf?"

"My home can't perceive sound. Master.. Jothra considered it.. inappropriate, for a student of the spirit to use a materialist work-around."

"Doesn't that leave your house deaf?"

He looks back and makes a small beckoning motion. "I wish that you could ask him."

I walk down the short corridor and into his living room-. An elderly member of his species is laid out on a small bier, dressed in robes with their arms folded across their chest. "Um. Master.. Jothra, I presume?"

Medphyll looks down at his late mentor. "I had a brief discussion on Human funerary tradition with Lantern Stewart once. I imagine this seems strange to you."

"Some rituals have the body being physically present. But.. I thought that he died a while ago. Ah." I create a construct hat upon my head and take it off with my right hand, pressing it to the left side of my chest. "My commiserations."

"Our bodies don't rot, as yours do. Chemical processes will cause Jothra's remains to harden. It's.. traditional, for a master's student to host his body while the process takes place."

"I see." I dismiss the hat. For a moment I consider suggesting that he avail himself of the services of a necromancer. Saarek, for example. Talking to Swamp Thing as Jothra appeared to help him in the comic after all. But, I don't know how these people feel about necromancy in general. Best not. "How's the.. new Lantern shaping up?"

Medphyll sits, not really looking at me. "Kilowog's initial appraisal was… Acceptable. With no pressing threat in this Sector it was felt that the Corps' best interests were served by giving them a longer training course."

I nod. "Good. Guy-. Lantern Gardner had.. a lot of good things to say about Lantern Kilowog's training."

"He joined the Corps later than me. When I was new, I was given over to Master Jothra for training. He was already a veteran himself. It was felt.. he would be better able to educate me than Lantern Deegan." He turns his head to look at me. "Why do you wish to learn how to connect with plant life?"

I grin. "Well, there's this Dryad back home…" He blinks uncomprehendingly. Right, true name, wouldn't translate. "There's a prison I want to break into. It's-."

"Dominator run." Understanding dawns. "You wish to be able to disable their security systems."

A nifty trick which I remember from the one bit of the Invasion! event I read. The Dominators waited until they were sure that Swamp Thing was off Earth before launching their attack because they believed that he could single-handedly ruin their forces. The Justice League knew the same thing, so Guy was dispatched to Louisiana to attempt to make contact with him. While there he did the most immoral thing I remember him doing in the comics; he fired on and destroyed an alien ship not participating in the invasion, killing the owner and her infant offspring. When Mrs Holland attempted to remonstrate with him he blew her off. That was probably before DC editorial decided that green power rings turned themselves off if they were used to kill someone.

It's interesting, now that I think about it. Guy was always supposed to be kind of an arse… At least when not in brain damaged mode. But because he was on the 'hero' side, I can't remember an incident where he did anything that was portrayed as being flat out immoral. Stupid, certainly, that 'one punch' thing will be around for as long as the character exists. Short sighted, reckless, aggravating. But that Swamp Thing issue had him both in-character and clearly in the wrong and I can't remember anything else quite like it.

"Dominators aren't the Reach. You aren't forbidden from picking a fight, if you've got just cause. And.. I'm not.. asking you to. You just need to show me how to-."

"What cause would I have?"

"They do.. habitually vivisect inmates."

"Do you have evidence of vivisections in this particular case?" I raise my eyebrows. "The Dominator's official line is that they only dissect the cadavers of those who die of other causes."

"Alright. I have evidence that they're dealing with the Computer Tyrants of Colu. I.. hope those.. things are on the shortlist for an Honour Guard visit, but in the mean time they are enslaving their whole planetary population with brain implants."

"That would be grounds for an intervention. However, I am a Sector Lantern, and I know that there are no Dominator-run prisons in Sector Five Eight Six."

"No, it's… In Sector One Two Eight Seven. And in case you're wondering, the Green Lanterns assigned there lack your skill in dealing with plants."

I really hope he goes for it. My backup plan involves going back to Earth and picking up Euanthe, and.. I.. don't want to do that quite yet.

"That is not an unreasonable target for an assault. But I am not a member of the Honour Guard, and I have not been assigned that mission by the Guardians. My responsibility is to ensure my Sector's safety-."

Ahh? "So as long as you're sure that the Sector is safe, you can leave, right? You said nothing was happening."

"By Green Lantern Corps regulation, I can only leave this Sector if another Lantern can be present. The mobility granted by a power ring makes us the perfect first line of response to an attack. A conventional fleet-."

I grin. "A Lantern, or a Green Lantern?"

"It.. doesn't specify. Do you have another Orange Lantern?"

…

Ah.

"No. But I.. think I know where I can get one."

 

[Mr Zoat]

23rd July
14:32 GMT

I clamp shut the last of the void-chests that Hinon gave me, and take another look around Larfleeze's inner sanctum. The First aside, it seems that the reputation of the place was enough to keep most sticky-fingered Vegans away. I had thought that perhaps some Psions might make a grab for them, but they seem to really be more of the éminence grise types. If they thought that the Emperor would trade some to them in exchange for their expanded support… Certainly they didn't have a reason to rush. Anyway, best check I got all of them.

I take a deep breath and try to ignore the assembled Construct Lanterns.

Come.

Immediately the Construct Lanterns float towards me.

No, not you.

They obediently stop.

With Larfleeze cut off from the orange light, becoming their domitor was easy. Unsettling as having more indisputably intelligent people as my slaves is, it's far better than leaving them just.. hanging around. And maybe with enough study we can turn them back into fleshy beings. If not… Perhaps an avarice golem or something? Working out that side of things can be a job for Hinon's new assistants.

Rings, come.

I maintain the call, my own ring shining brightly. I've scanned Larfleeze's caves as best I can, but I don't want to spend time digging through everything at the moment. Most of this.. probably belonged to someone, and while I did check modern Okaaran law on the subject it's silent as to what should happen to the Beast's property in the event of his defeat.

No, nothing. No more rings. At least, no more here. I float up from ground level and point to the void-chests. "Blume, you're on guard duty. The rest of you, take these to Hinon, then follow her instructions."

The mob comes forwards again, Glomulus wrapping all four arms around the closest and then appearing to struggle to rise off the ground with it. A brief flicker of orange as he nullifies the weight and he shoots up in an uncontrolled surge for a moment before regaining control. Flaasha uses.. its Lantern abilities from the offset, pulling a void-chest to its thorax before twisting in the air and heading for the exit, Glomulus close behind. Grubber dips down and picks up a void-chest with her right arms without apparent strain while Tammal Tayn coils various sets of tentacles around two. Nat Nat, Clypta, Sound Dancer and Blooch take theirs without issue and follow the others out.

One chest left. If I'm going to recruit, I've got to have something to recruit with, after all. Hinon's going to be too busy to create new rings for a while. Transformed Construct Lanterns will have to do. Alan managed perfectly well without an AI for decades, and these rings do have minds within them. I float the void-chest up to my height, flip the lid open again, then hold my hands out over the rings contained therein.

Ring, is it safe to put these in subspace?

This ring contains no data on rings created in this fashion.

Oh well. I put the void-chest into a construct safe and transition out of the caves into the air high above the Forest of Weeds. Flickers of orange below me reveal my Construct Corps flying out of the canopy, then disappearing as they surge out into the universe. That… Isn't a form of FTL I'm familiar with. Well, as long as they get there in reasonable time.

Ring, plot course for Tamaran.

Compliance.

A flicker as I transition outside of Okaara's atmosphere, then the stars leap around me. I had originally planned on recruiting Koriand'r and possibly Komand'r, but if their father could handle a ring… But… He probably can't spare the-.

The Liot'r system appears before me as the warp ends. Right, don't want to trigger my own defences. A brief transition and I appear within a few hundred kilometres of Scratching Post.

"Orange Lantern to-" Guns rotate to face me and prepare to fire. "-Thanagarian garrison. Friendly, honest."

"Orange Lantern, good to hear from you."

"Olio. How's the work going?"

"Aw, man. You would not believe how hard our techs are moaning about it. Once we got the basics done, Commander Andar decided to make them strip out everything that isn't up to our standard section by section. Heh, they say it would be less work to just make a new station."

"I'm sure that the Commander knows what he's doing."

"Yeah, me too. So how's that thing with the Beast going?"

"I already won. He's in-."

"When, exactly?"

"Well it… Um, I took possession of the Orange… Central Power Battery two days ago. Why-?"

"Aw, really? Damn it, I'll have to tell the betting pool. I thought it'd take you at least three more months planning and preparing. Thought you were the slow and cautious type?"

"I needed to put on a good show for my new employer, and I'd made.. just about as many preparations as were needed for the approach I wanted to use. And a little more for contingencies. As General Carl von Clausewitz said, 'The enemy of a good plan is the dream of a perfect plan'."

"Hah! Wise man. You want me to put you through to the Commander?"

"No, I'm here to talk to the King. Unless he has something he wants to tell me, I don't have a particular need to speak to him."

"Actually, there is a thing…"

"What is it?"

"We're out of contact here, which is fine, but we do need to let the Queen know where we are and why we're not calling in. And there's normal mail stuff. I mean, none of it's urgent…"

"Not a problem. I've got to drop by Thanagar on my way back to Earth anyway, and I do want to see Alstair." Maybe Medphyll would be interested in the place? The locals are meat-based, but magic-based plant manipulation is pretty common there. Or.. maybe he'd be rather put off by that. Yes, that sounds more likely. Eh, I'll ask him. "Since I don't know when I'll be coming back to Tamaran, please put a data packet together for me and I'll pick it up before I leave."

"You got it. King Myand'r should still be in the capital."

"Thank you. I'll head down now. Keep up the good work."

"Hawk's Nest out."

Hawk's Nest. Sure, why not? Heh. I transition downwards, appearing moments later above the.. ruined part of Tamarus. Huh. No Komand'r down there this time, no.. data networks for me to use to bring myself rapidly up to date.

I'm going to have to actually talk to people. Like a caveman.

Late evening here at the moment, Tamaran's rotational period being more or less the same as Earth's. Actually, all of the inhabited worlds in Vega have more or less the same day-length. Just another oddity of the place. King Myand'r is.. in the Hall of X'Hal, a sort of… Combination of museum and temple. Tamaranians tend to regard X'Hal as being a war goddess, which… Probably isn't really true to her historical character. On the other hand, religion, historical authenticity…

I transition to the Hall's entrance and then land, the Tamaranian soldiers outside bringing their weapons to bear with commendable haste. I wave and they lower them again.

"Is it possible for me to speak with the king, please?"

The leader of the detail nods. "Yes, Orange Lantern. I know that he hoped to discuss the plans for the wedding with you."

I frown. "Wedding? What wedding?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

23rd July
14:38 GMT

"Wedding?"

King Myand'r nods, then looks up at the statue of his father. King Korithus is depicted as a proud warrior in his middle years, not the broken old man he died as when the Tamaranian home defence fleet was overwhelmed and shot to pieces. I can understand why he considered himself honour bound to resist, but I can't help but thinking that kowtowing could have prevented… So much death.

"Yes. I had intended to wait until Koriand'r's education on Okaara was complete, but… She is of age, and clearly it isn't practical for her to return there." He turns back to me. "I had it in mind to pass oversight of most of the modernisation program to her and to Prince Karras. The new Tamaran will be their world more than mine, and it will be better for it. Certainly, the pre-existing bad blood between myself and his parents would make cooperation between us… Fraught."

BABUM

Orange… Flames… Flicker and flare from my hands. I fold them behind my back.

"Easing her into governing seems perfectly sensible to me. And Prince Karras seemed like a thoroughly decent man fully enthused for the project. But I'm not clear why the situation requires her to marry him."

King Myand'r sighs. "Authority. Tell me, what system of government do your people use?"

"Earth isn't unified. My country has a small democratically elected body who rule in concert with a hereditary monarch. The nearest thing Earth has to a planetary government requires the largest and most powerful nations on the planet to agree before anything much gets done."

Myand'r nods. "That's actually not a bad model. My wife and I may rule Tamaran in theory, but in practice our ability to exert our will outside those lands we directly control depends on our personal authority. I have been a tributary king of the Citadel Empire for my entire reign." He looks down the hall and out into the city. "The day of my first daughter's birth…"

"I know."

"My personal authority is near-nonexistent. And I think that at this point in my life it is too late for me to gain that authority. But, by marrying Karras, his parents will give her the opportunity to build that authority for the pair of them. And the other principalities will follow them as well, for fear of being left out and left behind. It isn't what I wanted for her."

BABUM

He turns back to me. "But that's rather been the story of my l-." He blinks. "Are you well?"

BABUM

Orange flames are dripping off me, maintaining coherence for several seconds even as they part from the main mass.

BABUM

This is wrong.

"Does she want to marry him?"

"She.. sees the value in the match. They get on well enough."

"So, no. Does he want to marry her?"

"I-."

I hold up my right hand. "No, don't answer that. I know he doesn't. He'd much rather marry that bodyguard of his."

Myand'r's face stills. "Oh."

I turn away and start pacing, fists clenched and arms swinging.

"They love each other and have for some time. I can see the threads of violet light which bind them together. And if I was a Zamaron that would be my problem. And that's bad, I feel that's bad, but it's not the bad thing. The bad thing is that the marriage is entirely unnecessary. If it were the only way in which the rebuilding project could happen then I'd be fine with it but it isn't. From what I could tell just about everyone at the conference was all for it. They're just…" I gesture violently upwards with both arms. "Expecting this, like… They need confirmation that individuals' desires are being ritually subordinated to the collective idea of appropriateness!"

"And… You feel that a ruler should not subordinate their desires?"

"Not when they don't have to." I stop and stare at him. "If the wedding was called off tomorrow, what do you think Karras would do next?"

"I.. doubt that he would change at all, though his parents-."

BABUM

"His parents aren't the ones getting married to someone they barely know."

His face grows more sombre. "Are you telling me that I must cancel the wedding? Annul the betrothal?"

"No! You're the king, I don't.. give you orders. I'm.. simply.. making you aware of my displeasure with the situation. Is there really no.. acceptable alternative?"

"You could marry her. Or Komand'r, if you preferred."

"What?"

"For rescuing so many of our people and liberating Tamaran from the Gordanians and their Citadel masters you have earned considerable personal authority. If Karras were willing to step aside for you, that would be a functional alternative."

"But… You've been my point of contact. Don't.. you get credit for-" He smiles sadly, shaking his head. "-that?"

"Why should I get credit for your work?"

"And I can't endorse you in some way?"

"You already have, but I'm afraid that it isn't enough. Even if you ritually presented me the Citadel Emperor's head-."

"I can do that."

"I am aware of your ambition, but the wedding is set to take place in five days."

"No, I mean, the head of the First Citadelian-." I cut myself off and glance at the statue of X'Hal. Then I lower my voice slightly. "I killed the First Citadelian two days ago. His head.. sort of.. shattered a bit, but I could recover it and stick it back together."

"The First.. lives?"

"No, I just said-."

"He.. lived until just now?"

"Yes. Commodore Amalak told me that Citadel forces are in a bit of a mess. He wasn't fighting, but he was the one keeping them unified and focused."

"That's.. astonishing, but as I said; that increases your authority. Not mine." He pauses for a moment. "He's really dead?"

"Assuming that he can't survive his own physical death, yes."

But what to do? I open my empathic vision all the way up and look at him. Oh, not good. With his people and his daughters safe, he's just not.. spiking high enough into the orange. He could probably use an orange ring safely… But if his assessment of the political situation is accurate -and it seems reasonable to assume that it is- then if he died… That sounds like something that would result in chaos, with no one in a position to arbitrate…

Except for me, and I intend to be busy.

Hmm.

"What.. would happen… If the authority of the princesses increased?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

23rd July
14:51 GMT

I drift slightly aimlessly through the skies of Tamarus, heading.. slowly in the direction of the palace. I really wanted more time to assess the princesses for compatibility before.. doing anything like this. I don't really… If I make it clear that it's a field test with imperfect rings, perhaps that would salve their egos? Certainly, these.. people-rings-. No, I need a better name than that. Old rings. Yes, that'll do. Functional, but soon to be superseded.

Talking to Karras first will probably be easier. Though.. it is quite late. Well, if he isn't awake I can just wait until tomorrow. I'm not in that much of a hurry. Assuming that he's still in the same room as when I left… Yes, there he is. I accelerate towards the palace.

I'm still flaming, but not quite as badly as before. The shock of being.. confronted with this arrangement has dimmed the intensity of my response a little. From the way Myand'r was talking I assume that arranged marriages are a relatively unremarkable thing amongst Tamaranians. My own exposure to them comes from the reactionary parts of the British Asian community, honour killings and kidnap-marriages. If I'd had a bit more exposure to functional examples I might feel less strongly. But as it stands this is very definitely triggering my 'This Will Not Happen' response.

The whole situation reminds me of the Meiji Restoration. And the end of the first series of Gundam. In both of those, both sides were trying to accomplish basically the same thing but decided that they couldn't until one or the other was defeated. There was no real benefit to the fighting, just the assumption that it had to happen. Here, there's no benefit to the marriage, just an assumption that it needs to occur.

And now I'm flaming again. Good job that Tamaranians generally don't fly at night. They can, but as they're solar powered they find it draining and can dry up completely if they keep at it. Hope I'm not keeping anyone awake.

There are a couple of guards on the balcony to Prince Karras' room and they can see me coming their way from the other side of the city. As I drop down towards them one is talking through the narrowly-open outer doorway while the other steps forward to greet me.

"Orange Lantern. You wish to speak with Prince Karras?"

"If that's at all possible. It can wait, but I'd rather not lose the time if that's at all possible."

He glances back and the other guard nods. "You may enter now."

I nod as I land. "Thank you." I walk towards the door, empathic vision showing me… Two people inside, Karras and -going by the amount of violet I'm seeing- his soldier-girlfriend. Good show. If she's here then he hasn't done the faux-noble thing of separating from her 'for the good of the people'. That should make him easier to persuade.

The second guard opens the door for me and closes it after I've strolled through. Karras is standing near a desk, a curtain drawn across to separate the working part of the room from the sleeping area. He's wearing opaque purple… Harem pants and nothing else. Okay, Tamaran, I shouldn't have expected anything else.

"Orange Lantern. What can I do for you?"

I flick my left hand up and generate a sound nullification field around the inside of the room. Where's what'shername? "I wanted to speak to you about the wedding."

He smiles politely. "You are invited, of course. Do you think that you will have time to attend?"

I look around the room. "I'm afraid that's…" I frown. "Why is your girlfriend hiding in the cupboard?"

He hesitates, his mouth falling slightly open before he can cover it up. "I.. don't know what you're-."

I stride over to it and yank open the door, the woman trying to duck behind some sort of robe. A mission somewhat impeded by Tamaranian ideas of modesty. "Oh, come out. I may as well have this discussion with both of you."

"Ah…" She looks past me to Karras, looking for some clue as to what she should do. I just turn away and walk back across the room.

"How did you know that she was there?"

"Karras, I have many abilities. The ability to detect the emotions of those about me isn't one of the most noticeable ones but it is fairly useful. I knew that the two of you were in love before you spoke a single word to me."

I turn back and.. she's wearing harem pants and nothing else as well. She's in pretty good shape, though I think that exposure to Diana has left me a little jaded about the female musculature. "I don't believe that anyone has told me your name."

"Corporal Taryia. Sir."

They don't look at each other or try and move together. Assuming that Tamaranian facial expressions are sufficiently similar to Human ones I'd say both are feeling guilty.

"And how long have the pair of you been intimately involved?" She doesn't immediately respond, so I turn my eyes towards Karras.

"I.. really don't see what concern that is of yours."

"Because I don't know enough about the way Tamaranians process emotions. Because I intend to find an acceptable way to break the betrothal of yourself and Princess Koriand'r and prevent the marriage. Can I assume that you're both interested?"

His eyes widen slightly and the corporal glances his way. "That's.. possible?"

"It will be. Are you on board?"

"Yes. Yes, we-" He steps towards the corporal and she towards him. They clasp hands. "-are."

"Good. First thing; is your pre-existing relationship a breach of the betrothal agreement?"

"No. Actually, things like this are quite common when the marriage is political."

The corporal nods. "It's accepted that blood-alliances are sometimes necessary, but being permanently separated from the one you love? No one would accept that."

I take a deeper look at the pair of them, but there's barely enough orange to be worth mentioning. Maybe if violet rings were a thing… I'll bear them both in mind for my eventual meeting with the Zamarons.

"And -I just want to check- you aren't planning on suddenly abandoning the rebuilding initiative if the wedding doesn't go ahead?"

"Not by choice, but I'm not Prince-Regent. It is my parents' decision."

"Alright. How much extra authority would Koriand'r need to convince them to stay on board?"

"I.. suppose if you-?"

"No. While it isn't impossible that the two of us might have gotten together at some point, it would be after a long courtship and because we genuinely loved each other. It wouldn't be happening soon, and I wouldn't… Hold the reconstruction of her homeworld hostage to ensure her compliance. What else?"

"Something of.. substantial service to Tamaran."

"I was thinking about taking them with me when I smash the Citadel Complex and steal their shipyards. Do you think that would work? Revenge, recovering the remains of their uncles and grandmother if they're still there, massively speed up the rate of Tamaranian shipbuilding?" They blink at me. "Assessment for ring compatibility and basic training could take a while, I'd like an answer reasonably quickly?"

"Yes… That would…"

"And you'll support them?"

"Ye-. 'Them'? Komand'r as well?"

"I wouldn't want someone to do something stupid like insist on a consolation prize." I examine their faces. "Someone hadn't done that already, had they?"

He looks away awkwardly. "There.. were discussions…"

"They serve no further purpose. Will they have your support?"

He nods. "Yes, of course."

"Good. See you in a few days."

 

[Mr Zoat]

23rd July
15:12 GMT

"What are you talking about?"

Komand'r flashes me a mildly irritated glance, then returns her attention to her weapon. An elderly Tamaranian plasma pulse gun, restored to operating condition. The Thanagarians have similar weapons but the Tamaranian version fires larger pulses, designed as it was to burn through the thick armour of Citadelian infantry. She inserts a new hydrogen flask, twists and then presses the activation switch. There's an audible hum and the central section of the weapon glows faint blue.

"It was a simple question, Princess."

She puts the stock of the gun to her right shoulder, sights the target at the far end of the shooting range and squeezes the trigger. A beam of brilliant blue plasma blasts from the weapon and annihilates the target.

"It's a pointless one. 'What do I want?'"

"When last we spoke you seemed discontent."

She removes the gun from her shoulder and carefully checks the various gauges that have been attached to it in several places. "Did you know that my sister is to be married?"

"Your father mentioned it."

"She is to be given oversight of our entire reindustrialisation process. Her and.. her new husband."

"I wasn't aware that her education -or yours- included a great deal on industrial strategy."

She raises the gun again and fires at a new target. This time one of the gauges beeps and her mouth twists into a grimace of frustration. "It didn't." She removes the gun from her shoulder and flicks another switch, the glow fading. "But she isn't expected to build things herself. She's expected to make sure that everyone is following the scheme."

"And what do you want to do?"

"I want this gun-" She plants it on the workbench with more force than is strictly necessary. "-to behave itself. We're trying to bring weapons wielded by the old Tamaranian marine corps back into working order."

"Difficult?"

"With the neglect they've suffered, I find it a minor miracle that any of them still function. A tiny deformation of the plasma chamber and they leak waste heat into their own mantle."

"Do you find the work satisfying?"

"It needs to be done. And… I doubt that I could serve as a symbol of Tamaranian optimism and unity."

"Do you want to?"

"What possible good would that serve?" She looks at my face and sees that I don't consider that an adequate response. "No. I wouldn't know where to begin."

"Alright. What, then? What do you want?"

"Functioning weapons." She removes part of the outer casing, and even my unaided eyes can see the subtle warping of the inner parts of the weapon.

"What for? Tamaran is safe-."

"Isolation and dependency are not safety." She pushes the gun across the bench. "All this is good for now is parts."

"What do you want?"

"For the rest to work."

Am I going about this wrong? "What for? What motivates you? Why are you here when the rest of the city is going to bed?"

She takes off her work gloves and puts them on the bench. "Because I can. Because we need more weapons. Do you intend to-?"

"Why? What do you want to do with them?"

"Defend our-." I give an amused exhalation, bowing my head slightly and shaking it. "What?"

"I'm not judging you. I'm not assessing you. I don't want to know what you think the right answers are. I want to know what you genuinely think. What do you want?"

"What do I want?" Her eyes shimmer with pale green light, her shoulders tense and her fists ball. "I want an army. And a fleet, big enough to darken the skies of our enemies' worlds when we go to them. I want to rain unstoppable destruction down upon everyone who dared think us too weak to do anything other than accept this as our station! I want Citadel Complex lifeless and drifting in space. I want Karna and Emana and the Psion Motherworld burning, the survivors fleeing in terror before my wrath. I want to stand triumphant over the ruins of everything my enemies ever built. Are you satisfied?"

I nod. "And then?"

"What do you mean, 'and then'?"

"After you'd done all that..?"

She frowns. "I'm not…" She stops, giving it a little more thought. "Keep it that way."

"And for yourself?"

"Being remembered as Tamaran's greatest ever war leader would fit my ambitions rather nicely."

"You appeared to be irritated by your sister's impending wedding. You don't have any desires in that direction yourself?"

"I'm irate that I have been written off once again! Shoved aside from the path to the throne with no way to earn my way there while her way is smoothed at every opportunity! I am already a better strategic planner than she is but I would have been better served studying makeup artistry."

"And if you had the opportunity to get everything you want, if you had that opportunity… Would you use it to act against her?"

She looks mildly amused. "I wouldn't need to. My achievements would outshine hers to such a degree that it would be.. a wasted effort."

Sounds genuine. Obviously I'd rather her desires were a little more lofty, but they do broadly line up with what I'm planning.

"And no plans to marry yourself?"

She turns away, towards the exit from the proving ground. "There isn't really any need for us to strengthen political ties with any other group."

"Then you'd be free to marry for love?"

She looks back, a small smile on her face. "What a.. curious idea. No, I would wait until there was an advantage." She looks me over. "Though I suppose that you yourself represent a rather interesting prospect. Comely enough for a dalliance, powerful and well liked by Tamaran's citizens. Tell me, are you here to press your own suit?"

"Ah, no. If I were going to marry someone, it wouldn't be for reasons of political convenience."

Her smile grows slightly. "A romantic. How delightful. If political positioning so disinterests you, perhaps.. you would like to spend the night with me for purely recreational reasons?"

"Thank you, but no. I still need to speak with Koriand'r-."

"Oh." Her expression curdles. "Yes, Koriand'r has probably only just gone to sleep. If you wake her I imagine that she would be quite pleased to see you again."

I nod. "Perhaps. But if she has already retired I can wait until tomorrow. Goodnight, princess."