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

[Mr Zoat]

23rd July
22:57 GMT

I turned down my environmental shield to the absolute minimum as evening turned to night and then into dawn, my eyes shut and my mind at peace. I can feel the soft wind against my skin, I can hear all of the quiet sounds of the nocturnal animals and the occasional snatch of speech which drifts my way. And I reach out, not with my hand or my ring but with my own soul, feeling and tasting the desires of the-.

"Hello?"

I leave my eyes shut, turning my head in the direction of the speaker.

"Koma told me that you wished to speak to me? Are.. you awake?"

"Yes." Blue and indigo, mostly. Reminds me of Diana. Not as much green, but she's far younger and hasn't been anything like as battle-hardened.

Orange is a little thin on the ground.

I open my eyes. I'm sitting cross-legged at the edge of the palace's highest landing platform. Princess Koriand'r is floating in the air just in front of me. She's wearing a purple halter top/hot pants combination that.. is still considerably more modest.. and practical, than what she wore in the comics. Her hair isn't quite the pile of perm that it is in the comics. Rather, it looks like it's naturally slightly curly and is either being buffeted by the wind or… Maybe something about the innate ability she's using to fly?

"I am glad!" And she's smiling and as far as I can tell it's totally genuine. "I was.. not able to thank you properly for rescuing our people, as well as my sister and I."

"You are welcome."

"Am I speaking your language correctly?"

I raise my eyebrows slightly. "I'm sorry." I point to my ring with my right forefinger. "Power ring translator. I didn't realise."

"Oh." She actually looks quite disheartened…

"Ring, translation off."

"Compliance."

And there's the smile. "Thank you. What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"A couple of things. Would you like to sit down?"

She shakes her head, then turns slightly in the air to take in the city as the dawn sun begins to illuminate its streets. "I prefer to fly. When we were.. captive, we were denied the opportunity-."

I raise my right hand. "I understand. Whenever I'm.. parted from my ring, I tend to spend the next few days using it for everything."

She turns back to me and nods, still smiling. "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

"Two things, really. Firstly, your.. English teacher."

She nods. "Prince Karras. We are to be married."

"And how do you feel about that?"

Her face grows a little more solemn. "He is a good man, and perhaps one day will become a good king."

"That wasn't really what I meant." I sit with my hands upon my lap, waiting for her to continue.

She gives her head a small shake, clearly not understanding. "What do you mean?"

"I.. am an Orange Lantern." I look aside for a moment. "And as far as I know the only one. But -like any other colour- orange rings respond best to particular modes of thought. Green rings respond best to those capable of total mental focus. Yellow rings to those who inspire fear and understand their own. Orange rings like mine -and like the one which the Beast wore- respond to avarice. The more I want, the more powerful I become."

She frowns. "But you asked for nothing in return for freeing us."

"I… No. I have not moved beyond valuing physical rewards, but they are only a part of what I desire. When I freed you, I self-actualised. I acted against others in accordance with my desires and beliefs about how the universe should be. Avarice isn't just about… Eating a thousand cheeseburgers."

She nods, smiling again. "I understand. I don't know what a cheeseburger is, but I imagine that eating a thousand of them would make you ill."

I nod. "So with that in mind… What do you want?"

"What do I want?"

I nod. "What do you want?"

Her left arm folds across her chest and her right hand goes to her chin in the classic thinker pose. "I suppose… I would like to see Tamaran prosperous again. I.. would like-."

"No no no. Not what you think -upon reflection- might be nice. Not what you think you should want. Not even what you're actually working towards." I let my eyes flare orange. "What do you want?"

She gives me a small nod, her eyes half closing as she gives it a little more thought. Probably not the most honest approach; I want an honest answer more than a fundamental one.

"I.. want Tamaran to be safe." Her jaw tightens slightly. "What all of us the Citadel took went through is not something that anyone should have to endure."

"And what will you do, to ensure this safety?"

"I.. will help my world rearm. I will teach others what I was taught by the Warlords of Okaara. And I will ensure that we have the industry to support our rearmament."

"Reasonable." I nod. "But what would you want to do, most of all? If practical issues were no impediments. If you could.. do anything."

She sets her face hard. "Then I would do it myself. I would seek out those who so brutally abused us and ensure that no one else would suffer from their deprivations. I would shield my world from any enemy and my people would know that they were safe under my protection."

I nod. "I note that you haven't mentioned Prince Karras."

She blinks, her focus lost. "You didn't ask about Karras. He.. is… Our marriage will align-."

"You described your wants in terms of service to your people. You don't want him. If you could realise your desires in some other fashion, would you prefer that?"

"I…" She looks uncertain, her eyes not focusing on me. "Karras has done nothing wrong, nothing that would justify breaking our betrothal."

"Do you want him for his own sake?"

She makes a sad little sigh. "No. And I know that he does not-. That he would prefer another. But this is what my people-."

I stand, flowing into an upright position with such speed that she jerks back in the air away from me. "No. It isn't. It may be what is expected but it is not required. You don't want each other and you don't get anything that could not be more sensibly obtained in other ways. Am I right?"

She shakes her head. "If there were another way-."

"Luckily for you, I'm here." I float forwards off the roof, construct safe just behind me. "Komand'r should still be at breakfast, yes? I think I should say this to both of you."

 

[Mr Zoat]

23rd July
23:07 GMT

Koriand'r laughs as she darts ahead of me towards the dining room, trying to… What, turn this into a race? Everything she's been through and she still-. Heh. Incredible. If there were any justice in the universe I'd be offering her a blue ring.

Since there isn't, I smile back at her as she glances at me. And I accelerate, my speed momentarily surpassing hers before she returns her attention to her destination and pulls away. I'm about to do something that risks driving her and her sister insane. I sigh inwardly. No, if I'm here, I'm confident that I will be able to spot the warning signs and intervene. We can more than afford to take a few days to get this right.

Koriand'r darts through the arches leading to the dining area. I decided that it would be more dignified -perhaps not by Tamaranian standards but certainly by mine- to enter on foot instead. I'm overdressed for a Tamaranian breakfast, but no one said anything last time. Is it advantageous to look more like one of the group? Perhaps, slightly, but it would be dishonest. I'm not joining their team, I'm asking them to join mine.

"-explained to you why he was so eager to know that?"

I take a moment to adjust my robes, and then stroll inside.

"He said that he wished to explain it himself." Koriand'r turns and cranes her neck slightly, clearly wondering if I was coming or not. She smiles and straightens as I enter. Komand'r is sat at the table, some sort of flatbread and a selection of small fruit on her plate. She is dressed in the same all-encompassing clothing that she was when I spoke to her yesterday, presumably intending to spend her time in much the same way. She watches me, patiently waiting for me to explain myself.

"Good morning, Princess Komand'r."

"That seems unduly optimistic."

"Oh, I think that you'll agree with me in a moment." Koriand'r steps into the air, floating over the table and taking what I assume to be her seat. "It is my intent to offer both of you the opportunity to advance yourselves. Koriand'r, all being well, you will gain the authority required to make marriage to Prince Karras unnecessary. Komand'r, you would gain sufficient renown to demand a seat at whatever table you wanted… Or the opportunity to forge your own path entirely."

She arches her right eyebrow. "Not that you're an unattractive prospect-."

"No." I hold up my right hand. "No. Why does everyone assume..? No. I was talking about destroying the Citadel Complex."

Komand'r starts to smile while Koriand'r looks puzzled. "How? The Citadel Complex is protected by the most powerful defences in the Vega Systems, the power of the Citadel fleet and legions of Citadelian soldiers. When Tamaran's navy was at its strongest we tried to make such an attack. Few survived. I do not know if a Lantern could make such an attack, but I do not see how we could aid you."

Komandr's smile grows. "No, one Lantern couldn't, could they?"

"I would need to research their defences more fully before I could give you an honest answer. But, as you have no doubt surmised…" I bring the construct safe around in front of me and allow the upper surface and sides to melt away, revealing the void safe. "After I defeated Larfleeze and the First Citadelian-."

"You what?"

Komand'r looks.. almost angry. Certainly shocked. Koriand'r looks more surprised. Ah. I suppose that I should probably have mentioned that. "My sponsor created a device that interfered with the Beast's mind. I went inside the Forbidden Forest of Weeds and used it on him. He's in an asylum cell on Maltus now. The First tried to intercept me on my way out."

Koriand'r blinks as she comes to terms with the idea. "I did not believe that the First was real."

Komand'r rolls her eyes. "Obviously there had to be an original." She looks at me, eyes narrowing slightly. "Though I am surprised that he was still alive after all this time."

"The Citadelians claim that he was X'Hal's son. Would a god age?"

Komand'r rolls her eyes again. "'Would a Psion science project age?' would be a better question."

"He said that he did, and that he rejuvenated himself with-" I place my hands upon the void-chest and lift the lid. "-an orange power ring."

I give them a moment to take in what is inside, then place my hands over the rings themselves. Let's see, someone… No, no… Sane people don't challenge Larfleeze, so getting a mind who ah. Yes, these will do. Okaaran warriors who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I take a ring in each hand and then close the lid.

"These rings empower their wearers to enact their desires. But, they also magnify those desires. Two of the people I lent my own ring to began displaying extremely altered behaviours almost immediately. When I started using it, my own behaviour changed gradually and.. some.. fairly odd things happened before I reached my current level of equanimity. If you take them, I will begin training you in their use with a view to attacking the Citadel Complex. If you don't…" I shrug. "I will seek others. The decision is yours. So."

Oh, this whole thing is turning me into a drama queen.

I hold out my hands palms upwards with the rings resting on them.

"Koriand'r of Tamaran, you want to protect your people. Komand'r of Tamaran, you want a righteous vengeance. And I want you both for the Orange Lantern Corps. Take my rings."

Komand'r barely waits for me to finish speaking before rising to her feet-.

"No. Stop." She stops, looking confused. "Not like that. Hold out the hand that will bear the ring… And want it to you."

"What?"

"From Earth, I called rings that were in Larfleeze's stash in the Forbidden Forest of Weeds on Okaara. I'm six metres away from you. Call the ring."

Komand'r looks at me askance for a second, trying to work out if this is some sort of prank. Realising that she has nothing to lose she holds out her right hand. "Come, ring."

For a moment nothing happens, then the ring in my right hand wobbles slightly.

"You told me what you wanted to do. Hold in your mind the image of accomplishing it via this ring. Imagine the orange light which once empowered the Beast flowing through you."

Her right hand tenses. "Mine."

The ring gently floats up from my right hand, spinning slowly on its axis.

"Mine!"

The ring shoots forward onto her outstretched ring finger. "Princess Komand'r of Tamaran. I am yours."

"Guh!"

Orange light runs throughout her body and she cringes slightly. I suppose that suddenly seeing the life of the person the ring once was must come as something of a shock. A moment later she straightens up and I watch very carefully to see what her next course of action is. The orange light within her is strong… But it looks stable.

She holds up her right hand, staring at the ring. "You did not tell me that it used to be someone."

"We'll get you a normal ring when we can. And we'll try to turn that one back into a person. But, these are what I have for now. If you'd rather put it aside-."

"No." Her eyes flash orange for a moment and… She rises into the air. "Ah?"

The orange light cuts out and she falls to the floor.

"Intense emotions other than avarice will cause your ring to shut down. That's how I killed the First." I turn to the nervous-looking Koriand'r. "Well, highness? Will you be joining us?"

She stares at the ring on my left palm for a moment, then raises her left hand.

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th July
16:14 GMT

Just like on Earth, when-

"Yaaagh!"

-Lanterns spar, it doesn't take all that long-

"Raah!"

-for a crowd to form. Fortunately the Tamaranians have the sense to keep well back, unlike a few Humans I could name. Double-fortunately, because while a few of the subtleties eluded Guy, John and Jordan they certainly had the basics down. I don't think the princesses have even seen a recording of a Lantern before.

Komand'r thrusts her hands forward, fortifying her bubble shield as my tungsten rounds strike home. The barrier cracks under the assault but doesn't fall apart, a noticeable improvement upon her earlier performance. I maintain fire as Koriand'r flies at me, pulses of orange light blasting towards me from her ring. I evade, letting my ring project the trajectory of each shot and move me out of the way. Her trajectory I track by eye, firing a single flashbang round right at her face. Its proximity fuse detonates it just before it hits her, the flash-

"Agh!"

-blinding her and sending her crashing to the ground.

"Koriand'r, your ring can heal your eyes! Focus on your desire-" I send a tendril to assail Komand'r's bubble from the side. "-for physical wellness!" The tendril makes contact. Oh dear, she's lost awareness of her environment again. I have warned her about this.

Corrupt.

The barrier shuddering for a moment is all the notice she gets before construct veins appear over the outer surface.

Construct acquired.

I fold my arms behind my back as I throw her ball up into the air and then slam it to the rocky ground.

"Ah!"

Komand'r yelps, then pushes herself up and forms a construct-sword.

"Komand'r, what did we say about-"

She shoots forwards, environmental shield flaring. I'm actually getting a little worried about her stability. I send a filament at her from the ground just behind her… Ah, she's gotten the hang of resisting those with her environmental shield, good. I float backwards, letting her approach but at a slower rate. As she flies past her fallen sister Koriand'r pulses with orange light, her eyes clearing. She looks around for a moment and then raises her left hand in a 'resume' signal. I fire a short volley of tungsten rounds at her and she leaps into the air to evade.

Komand'r approaches melee range and swings her sword at my chest. My armoury tong construct grips it by the flat of the blade before it can complete its arc and the sudden stop causes it to slide from her hands. As soon as she loses physical contact her construct fades to nothing and she barrels into my construct armour hands first.

I hear the crack as several bones in her hands fail to withstand the impact, even through her environmental shield. Enhanced for strength and not endurance, perhaps?

She falls back, her teeth bared and glowing construct-gauntlets forming around her injured hands. No, that won't do at all.

"Komand'r, stop."

"I will still-!"

"No, you've lost focus. Stop. Meditate. Resume later."

"I can…" She shudders as she tries to prove my assessment wrong, momentarily showing me that her eyes are emblazoned with the orange sigil. "I… can-."

Her ring cuts out and she falls onto a construct mattress that I've placed just below her. Her mind clear, she looks at her broken fingers in horror as the pain finally gets through. She bites down a whimper as I raise my right hand and scan them.

"Seven phalanges. I would suggest that in future if you wish to punch a hardened target that you create the construct gauntlets first."

She grits her teeth as she answers. "I will remember that."

Orange light plays over her hand as I knit the bones back together. "Better?"

She flexes her fingers. "Yes. I am ready to resume our mat-."

"No, you're not. Without the ability to retain your situational awareness, your effectiveness in combat will be crippled. And this is just against a single opponent who's pulling his attacks; against a fleet that's actively trying to kill you, you will die unless you understand the self-discipline aspects of my training."

She nods reluctantly, rising off the construct platform under her own power. A glance is enough to know that she really likes being able to fly. I'm not sure if she's learned to repair whatever damage her childhood illness did, but.. I don't think I'll do it for her. It will be an excellent encouragement to learn how to use her ring for non-combat purposes. Komand'r flies over to our starting area and sits down cross-legged, her hands meeting fist-to-palm across her chest.

Koriand'r comes closer. I haven't signalled 'stop' in her case, but she appears to be assuming that she should take a break if her sister does. "What do you want me to focus on?"

"Armour constructs. I shouldn't have been able to disable you like that. You can bet that Emperor Damyn has reviewed the fight leading to the death of his progenitor at length, which is why you'll both be undergoing power armour training this afternoon."

"I have not fought in such heavy armour before. I am .. concerned that it may impair my movements in a way which I cannot adequately compensate for."

"That's a reasonable concern under planetary gravity and in an atmosphere. You'll be in space, wearing a power ring. Trust me when I say that power ring based flight does not care about a little extra weight from your armour."

She doesn't look convinced. "Will this armour stop capital ship weaponry?"

"Not the primary weapons, but if those hit you then it's your own fault for not dodging. It will however severely reduce the ability of their point defences to harm you, and those are far more effective against small targets like Lanterns when at close range. Did your training on Okaara cover ship to ship combat at all?"

"Somewhat. But it was not a particular focus. And we didn't study ways to destroy capital ships from the outside using infantry."

I nod. No, I don't suppose that they would have. "Fair enough. How are you finding the solar suit?"

She tenses and relaxes a few muscles, looking at the material as it moves over her skin. "It feels.. strange. I am so used to the idea that covering my skin weakens me that I have seldom worn so much clothing."

"Hopefully it'll help get you familiar with the practice. Of course, you can charge yourself directly with the ring, but in case you run out of charge or your focus slips…"

"How have you managed, not being able to feel love or hope or compassion? I have tried to imagine it, but the idea is so alien to me that I cannot comprehend it."

"I can feel them just fine. Even using my ring."

She considers that for a moment. "You said that your ring was different to ours. Is that why we have such a problem?"

I shake my head. "No. My ability to feel other things while using my ring comes from a… A great moment of self-comprehension I had last year when I.. saw all of my desires in their proper place. I'm afraid that I don't know if it's possible to train people to undergo the same thing-."

"I am low on power."

Koriand'r raises her left hand and looks at her ring. "How do I recharge it?"

"You will eventually get a personal lantern so that you can charge yourself. For now-" I hold out my left hand and call my lantern out of subspace. "-please use mine."

"How do I-?"

The Ophidian leaps out of my lantern and coils around her!

 

[Mr Zoat]

24th July
16:19 GMT

Koriand'r's eyes widen as the Ophidian wraps two coils around her abdomen and another around her left arm before ducking her head to look at Koriand'r's ring. Which is crackling with orange light.

"Koriand'r, this is the Ophidian. The Embodiment of Avarice."

"Is she friendly?" Her ring dims and the Ophidian pulls her head away slightly.

"Eeh. Could be. Ophidian?"

The Ophidian raises her head. "Who is this?"

"This is Princess Koriand'r of Tamaran. She's our second recruit."

The Ophidian bends her neck, coil shifting as she leans around to stare Koriand'r in the face. "New Lantern?"

"I had been planning to give her a little longer to acclimatise-." Koriand'r's ring starts glowing again, light.. appearing to be flowing from the ring into herohdear. "Ophidian, why don't you let her go for the moment?"

"I cannot feel the Gnat. Is he dead?"

"No, I-."

"Why can I not feel the Gnat?"

"We cut him off from the orange light. He can't use it. Can't feel it."

The Ophidian tilts her head to the side. "He suffers?"

I nod. "Yes, I'm afraid that was-."

"I am pleased, my Agent. Make the Gnat suffer. Keep him contained and unable to get anything he wants. Make him know that he will never be able to get anything he wants ever again."

"I don't.. think he's even capable of wanting things at the moment."

"Even better! Leave! Him! With! Nothing!"

The feedback in Koriand'r is continuing, the woman herself shuddering… "Can do. Ophidian, you're damaging your new Lantern."

"Making her more like you."

Yes, I see now. She's trying to get the orange light in Koriand'r to mimic my soul tattoos. But if she keeps forcing more orange light into Koriand'r's soul then the whole network will destabilise. It's not like Larfleeze who was already almost totally attuned to the orange light or me who used magic to make it work, something like that would seriously mess anyone else up. "Ophidian, the whole point of this was to show you different sets of desires. Different ways to want things and different sets of wants. You're destroying something, and once you've done that it becomes something you can't ever have. Is that what you want?"

Her coils immediately loosen, her body moving away from Koriand'r in all directions. "No. That is the worst thing."

Without the Ophidian's support Koriand'r collapses to the ground. I see that behind her Komand'r has risen to her feet, though she hasn't got as far as offering actual help yet. Koriand'r pushes herself to her feet, looking-.

"YOU WILL NOT CONTROL ME!"

Beams of orange light blast from her eyes and strike the Ophidian in the chest. They don't do much other than slightly confuse her. Koriand'r recognises her error almost immediately, generating construct armour around her body -now why can't she do it like that when we spar?- and charging the Ophidian with razor-sharp talons outstretched.

Impressive effort, but at best that will do nothing and at worst it might annoy the Ophidian. I fire off six orange tethers which attach to the back of her armour.

Corrupt.

The armour shimmers for a moment-

"GET OFF ME!"

-and then solidifies as a sword construct slices through my tethers. Okay, no.

"Drain."

Orange mist boils away from Koriand'r's construct armour as it comes apart.

"And peace."

The glow in her eyes blinks out. For a moment I see her normal eyes, then they roll back in her head as she collapses into unconsciousness. I stick a crash mat construct under her to soften her landing.

"And that, Ophidian, is why you have to be careful who you feed more power to than they're ready to cope with."

I pull the crash mat over to me, studying Koriand'r's interior in detail. The orange is glowing, but the rest is.. still there. I put my right hand over her forehead and draw out what I can.

"What.. is that?"

Komand'r has come closer, staring up at the Ophidian with naked desire evident on her face.

"Ophidian, Princess Komand'r of Tamaran. Our first recruit." Okay, think that's done. I drop my hand and lower the crash mat to the ground. "Princess Komand'r, the Ophidian. The Embodiment of Avarice."

The Ophidian bends down slightly to get a better look at her, forked tongue flicking out as she tastes Komand'r's soul.

"Is it a god?"

"God.. in the sense of an arcane intelligence arising from the Dream? No. God in the sense of a being who is worshipped by others? I don't think anyone worships her, but it isn't impossible. God in the sense of being ludicrously powerful? Yes, yes she is."

"Another Lantern? Are there more?"

"No, not yet. I was going to introduce you once they got the hang of using the orange light."

"This one is more in tune."

Komand'r looks to me for an explanation. "More 'in tune'?"

"You're better at using your avarice as the driving force behind your actions. That's more or less how the Ophidian perceives the universe. Ophidian, would you please return to my lantern? I'll introduce you to the whole team within a month."

"Yes."

Her construct body shimmers for a moment, then disappears. I sigh with relief, then take hold of my personal lantern.

"You.. keep a god in your lantern? Is she what you draw power from?"

"It's-. No, it's complicated, and it isn't strictly speaking necessary to learning to use your ring."

"Is she more powerful than you?"

"Oh yes, but left to her own devices she'd just do what Larfleeze did and go to sleep on a big pile of valuables. Larfleeze had far more power than me and three billion years in which to use it and what did he do? Nothing. I can actually do things with the orange light." I fix her with a steady stare. "You have a power ring; you don't need more power, you need to use the power you already have better. More precision, more control."

Komand'r nods. I'm not certain that I've convinced her, but she appears willing to give me the benefit of the doubt for now.

"Now, how about we run through the Hierarchy of Needs again?"

Komand'r's eyes linger on my lantern for a moment before nodding. "If we must."

 

[Mr Zoat]

25th July
14:19 GMT -6

"When you said I could come here after school, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

Miss Selton paces uncomfortably inside the isolation chamber, casting the occasional scathing look through the observation window when she thinks my attention is directed elsewhere.

"I know, and I do appreciate you assisting me like this." Air flow… Good. Response… Minimal. Excellent. "The test subject-."

"Don't call him a test subject."

"Alright… Ah, test.. volunteer?" That gets me a look, but she doesn't otherwise comment. "Has had continual exposure to the control.. volunteer for ten minutes with no ill effect."

"Ping."

"Just so."

It's so good to have a Box again, even if it is like having a Sphere I can't just escape by walking up some stairs constantly attached to me. Himon was.. pleasant enough, once Scott explained things to him and to the crowd of Lowlies at the resistance gathering. I assume that Barda killed Amazing Grace before the mob could beat her to death as a result of all of the superhero exposure she's been getting lately; there's no way the old her would have been anything like that merciful. I'm still not sure if he incorporated the yellow sigil for decoration or if it's so much a part of my nature that it had to be included or… What? Maybe that's just the shape this Mother Box has and the resemblance is a coincidence.

Miss Selton folds her arms across her chest, her gaze moving all around the small room and its rather limited furniture. "I'm only doing this because Lynne asked me, okay?"

"Understood. Unlocking the door now."

I press the button which unlocks the inner door, hearing a dull clank from inside the chamber. Still no reaction.

"Are you sure this is safe? I don't think a vampire with fire powers would live all that long."

"He's responded well to the treatment so far, and has shown no response to simulated scent or visual triggers. And he's been smelling you for ten minutes with no observable affect."

She doesn't look entirely convinced. "Why is it you've got me doing this? Rather than anyone else?"

"Doctor Robbins is post-menopausal. Ms Black is heavily cyberised, Jean isn't Human, Miss Amane is a New God, Miss Shimmer used to be a Pony and Lynne hasn't reached full physical maturity. If it makes you feel any better, none of his previous victims reanimated."

"Not really." She glances at the door. "Oh, just get on with it."

I press the button to access the intercom on the other part of the isolation chamber. "Alright, you can come on through now."

The.. hybrid whose name I can't think looks up at the camera for a moment, then rises from his bench. "Mister Grayven, are you sure about this?"

"There are no certainties in this life, my boy. But if you haven't reacted by now I'd be very surprised if you were going to." Apparently that wasn't what he wanted to hear. "Drones with holy water sprays and force field projectors are on hand just in case you relapse. But it probably won't come to that. Come on, get this done and you and your brothers can have a walk around the rest of the facility."

"Why not my sisters as well?"

"Because male and female bodies work differently and the formulation which works on you doesn't work anything like as well on them."

He nods, still looking slightly downcast. Oh for goodness sake, if he doesn't get up I'm going to have one of the drones drag-. Finally he walks towards the door at the speed of a condemned man heading for the scaffold.

"Miss Selton, he's heading through now."

"And if he turns into a freaky monster it's okay to burn him."

"Until he's no longer capable of attacking you or containment activates, yes. But that shouldn't be necessary."

"Right…" She starts pacing again, realises what she's doing and forces herself to sit down. She tenses as.. the hybrid pushes the door open. Pleasant enough looking youth, nervous as anything. But he volunteered the moment I asked. He's got a real sense of duty. She's the first person other than a blood relative he's been in close physical proximity to without anything barring the way. The first adult he hasn't eaten. He freezes up and the two of them just sort of stare at each other for a moment.

"Feel anything, lad?"

And don't I feel like a prize ninny for having to call him 'lad'. You'd think that becoming a god would have bypassed the whole 'can't say my old name' problem. Or being Anti-Lifed. I mean, exactly how much of the original me is left at this point?

"N-no, Mister Grayven."

I watch him on the monitor for a moment. "Breathe, boy."

He remains still for a moment, then takes a very shallow breath.

"Still with us?"

"Y-yeah. I can smell-" He looks at Miss Selton. "-you, but it doesn't, like… Trigger anything."

"Glad to hear it." She turns to me. "Can I come out now?"

"Not just yet. Would you mind changing?"

She frowns. "What?"

"Not you, him."

"Oh yeah, I haven't seen your scary-" She turns back just as the hybrid shifts into his Demonic Manbat form. "-mmmode." The youth shifts nervously as she stares at it, jumper and shorts stretched awkwardly around his altered torso and legs. "Huuuuh."

"Smell anything now?"

This was the tricky bit. When they're in Human form their supernatural power is turned right down. Probably to improve their chance of successful infiltration, something Vampires and Succubae have in common. It turned out that -once Miss Shimmer and Zatanna started working on it in earnest- coming up with an alchemical solution that worked on Human-mode was reasonably easy. Monster-mode is far harder. Not only is their sense of smell far more acute but they tend to throw off externally applied magics far quicker.

"Yes. No. She's still there, I know she's… Ready-"

"Excuse me?"

"-but I don't want to eat her."

Miss Selton opens her mouth, then shuts it again. Then she turns back to the window. "Are we done now?"

"Unless you want to perform an auto-erotic act, yes."

"What?"

"It would be the strongest possible trigger for his-."

"No. I don't."

"Then, yes." I press the button to release the electronic lock on the external door, then walk over to open the manual component. "Out you come."

"Finally." Miss Selton is out of the door at a pace just shy of a jog. "Am I done now?"

"If you'd like to head up to the psionics lab, Jean is ready to perform your latest knowledge transfer. Thank you for your-" She's already walking past me. "-cooperation."

"Mister Grayven?"

I turn back to where.. the boy is standing at the door. Back in Human mode without prompting, very good. "Come on out. I'll give you the tour myself."

"Could we..? Could we let my brothers out as well first?"

Hm. Testing them individually would be better, but all of their initial results came back the same as his…

"If you like. Let's do one last round of scent testing first, then we can sort you all out some proper quarters."

He beams at me, then dashes off to tell them the good news.

 

[Mr Zoat]

26th July
06:42 GMT

"Koriand'r, you're-" Construct point defence laser turret seventeen fires, striking her on her construct armour's left hip. "-too slow again."

Her construct wobbles for a moment, then she vanishes in a flash of orange. A moment later main gun three fires, two faux gravity rippers cutting a path through empty space.

"Better."

"Haagh!"

Komand'r transitions into a blind spot behind turret four, cutting at its anchor point with an orange bolt of exactly the level of force required. Normally that would be protected by a force field, but in this exercise they've already done enough damage to shut that down.

I slowly bring the ship construct around, as if the pilot were attempting to bring other guns to bear. At the same time a construct hatch opens and construct marines leap into the void, guns firing. Real Citadel marines aren't much of a threat to Lanterns at anything less than Zerg swarm levels, but the first few times we did this neither sister could resist stopping to fight them. They've both learned to desire at a higher Maslowian level since then. Killing the bastards who are right here is less important to them than killing all of the bastards for certain. Urge indulgence is less important than ultimate goal realisation. I don't have anything much to compare the speed with which they've internalised my lessons yet. I had only theory and comics to support my own early efforts, and I was as much concerned with not going insane and learning how to superhero as I was in trying to become an efficient Lantern.

Komand'r creates a tower shield to block the construct marines' first volley, scans the ship and then transmits something before transitioning away. Alright, the Citadelian captain would know that the shields and point defences on that area of the ship are down. His response would be to accelerate and spin, preventing the attackers getting an easy attack run at that-.

Warning: avarice detected.

Oh yes?

Koriand'r warps back, eyes and forearms glowing brilliant orange as she fires an almighty blast at the vulnerable section of the ship.

Ring, simulate.

Compliance.

The construct around me shudders and jumps sideways in space. That's a lot of power she's putting out. I'll wait to be pleased until I find out how mentally coherent she is at the moment. The ship construct's armour keeps together -sort of- but it buckles and its rigidity is causing the simulated interior of the ship to twist and break. Non-critical systems are the first to fail -the Branx are pretty good ship designers- but with the shockwaves passing through the ship it's only a matter of time-.

Primary combat power disabled.

The ship's main guns and primary shield die at once, and its rate of acceleration falls dramatically. What the captain's response to that would be depends on the captain. In some places, a ship may be allowed to surrender in that sort of situation. In Vega, unless you're worth a ransom anyone striking their colours should expect either immediate death or enslavement. But I don't think a Citadelian officer would try that unless they knew help was coming, in order to survive while their allies beat off whatever had attacked them.

If you're being boarded by a superior force, detonating your own main power plant or sabotaging your own FTL drive to make a death-jump is a viable -if obviously fatal- tactic. But given how force transmits badly through a vacuum it doesn't do much to anyone outside the ship and usually isn't easy to rig, ships being designed to not destroy themselves. Slightly more sensible options include using reserve power generators to charge your FTL system's capacitors to either get to help or at least get away from whatever's killing you, or depressurising part of the ship to turn faster and bring your small guns to bear.

Yes, that sounds like something a competent Citadelian might do.

The ship construct lurches around in a semi-controlled fashion, combining the shove Koriand'r is providing with the release of its own 'atmosphere' to turn and bring turrets to bear on her. The moment they get the angle they light up… And expend themselves on the construct barrier which Komand'r has put up to protect her sister.

Ship damage critical.

The hull armour is bent inwards, its own mass crushing the interior sections closest to the hull. Marines throw themselves from every exit point, shooting as they come. But the princesses have enough presence of mind to keep moving, keeping the damaged part of the hull in line of sight and Komand'r's shield between them and the majority of the incoming fire. Infantry heavy weapons can be a threat to Lanterns who are locked in place, but they aren't routinely issued to marines set mostly to repel boarders. Too much risk of doing damage to your own ship's insides. By the time they're out of storage and deployed-.

The ship's hull gives way, reserve power failing across most of its structure as the ship cracks in two. In all but the most poorly built ships this sort of damage doesn't result in a colossal ship-devouring explosion, but there's no way a ship in this condition can keep fighting.

I dismiss the construct, Koriand'r's beam shooting past me into deep space for a second or two before cutting out. I turn in their direction and take a careful look at them. No injuries, Koriand'r is glowing intensely orange but she's mastering it, the sheer power of it diminishing as I watch. She is also managing to avoid doing what she did last time she went for a big shot and trying to focus on another colour as a quick attack-cancel. They're both wearing spacesuits but the sudden loss of manoeuvrability resulted in her being completely vulnerable to the ship's fire.

"Well done." I drift closer, taking time to check that they aren't about to blast me. Hasn't happened since day one, but I'm pushing them harder and I certainly know how the orange light can mess around with your thought processes. "How are you both feeling?"

I can just about make out Komand'r's smile through her faceplate. "Victorious. You weren't going easy on us?"

"I was matching the performance of a Citadelian battleship as closely as I could, neither going easy nor going hard."

She raises her right hand to admire her ring. "Not so difficult at all. Though.. I can see that an entire fleet of such ships would be a far harder prospect."

I nod. "I'm glad that you can keep your perspective like that. I was also impressed with your cooperation. It's nice to know that you've overcome that particular problem. Koriand'r?"

"I… I am… Finding it hard not to focus on a single target when I… Make that sort of attack."

"Not surprising. We can do some practice, have you needing to attack and defend simultaneously. Are you alright to continue now, or do you need a break?"

"I think it would be best if… I am sorry, the mental state I must occupy to use so much power is… Uncomfortable."

I nod again. "Alright, let's head back to Tamaran. Komand'r, if you would?"

Orange light extends outwards from her, enveloping Koriand'r and I. Koriand'r's been able to produce higher peak energy outputs than her sister by a good margin ever since the Ophidian touched her, but she doesn't have the control to match yet. That'll be useful if the Controllers try to argue for an alternate system to the one I want to use.

Alert: warp in progress.

The stars shift as Tamaran reappears. Heh, right where we left it. The orange glow around us dims as Komand'r checks her work. She seems satisfied, and begins flying back towards the planet. A moment later Koriand'r follows on behind her and I bring up the rear.

"Alright, both of you: how does destroying an enemy starship fit the Hierarchy of Needs?"

Komand'r responds first. "Basic: destroying something trying to kill us provides safety from physical harm, and allows us to rest without keeping an eye on the sky at all times."

"Good. Koriand'r?"

"Psychological: cooperative feats promote feelings of unity amongst those who must work together to achieve them. Esteem is gained from serving the general good by destroying those who threaten the community."

"Good. And what else?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

27th July
02:37 GMT

Possibly due to the… Difficulties the Citadel is currently experiencing, their picket around Rashashoon is somewhat reduced from my first visit. None of Admiral Dakyn's flotilla, obviously, but one of the two which were guarding the outskirts of the system has also been withdrawn.

"Is that it?" Komand'r looks at the assembled ships contemptuously. "I was expecting something more substantial."

Koriand'r frowns. "I thought that Rashashoon's commerce made it an important part of the Citadel Empire. Why is it not better defended?"

"If I had to guess, a combination of the fact that three out of four of the groups in this region who could threaten it are at peace, and the Citadel's own internal difficulties. If I were Emperor Damyn, I'd want to keep my Admirals where I could see them. At least until my throne was secure."

Something about that arouses Komand'r interest. "Amalak, Jarko and the Spider Guild. Who is the fourth? The Green Lanterns?"

"The Crown Imperium has a large enough fleet that they could capture Rashashoon. But their own worlds would be left undefended and they'd be bled white by raiders doing it. And I don't think their fleet could survive the full wrath of the Citadel and its allies."

Koriand'r has turned her attention from the fleet to Rashashoon itself. "Are there Tamaranians down there?"

"I didn't give you a power ring so that you could ask me questions you can easily answer yourself. If you want data, use your ring to get it."

She raises her left hand, orange lights flickering around her left arm and head. "Yes, there are. Tamaranians, Karnans, even a few Branx. Other peoples as well." She lowers her arm, lights dying down a little. "Why Branx? Why would the Citadel permit its ally's people to be treated so?"

"Slavery isn't always a species thing. Sometimes it's a result of an individual's circumstances."

She nods, then her eyes narrow. "I will recover them once we are done with the Citadel."

I smile inside my armour. I had been slightly concerned that she might insist on liberating them immediately. I'm not sure whether my training should take credit or their own natures, but both of them have retained their facility for long term planning as well as I could have hoped. "If you're ready?"

Construct armour appears around Komand'r, while Koriand'r's environmental shield flares. She has trouble with desiring armour as a baseline state. Apparently, solar power was so vital to empowering Tamaranian warriors for so long that as a culture they tend to disdain armour.

"Ready." / "Ready."

"Remember; don't destroy the battleship in your enthusiasm. We need it intact." I remember the Evil Overlord list. "Unless that would put you at undue risk. There are other battleships."

"Hmpf."

I'm not sure whether Komand'r finds the fact I think that I'd need to explain it amusing or the implication that the two of them aren't perfectly capable of doing what the mission requires.

"Go."

There's a burst of orange light as they both accelerate away at superluminal speeds, heading towards the Citadel ships. Nothing else in that region of space and we appeared far enough away that I doubt that they'll have detected our presence. Standard practice for Citadel ships is to maintain moderate shields whenever they're away from a safe shipyard, but they don't go to full combat power unless they're about to initiate an attack or they come under one.

Which means that those ships are currently far more vulnerable than the construct ships they've been practising against.

A point defence frigate is torn apart as Komand'r warps the space it's occupying and then fires an orange beam through its centre. She's moving away as Koriand'r starts her assault on the battleship, precise bolts of orange flying from her hands and striking the point defence turrets around the primary drive housing. A sensible thing for a small attacker to do: a ship that can't manoeuvre or fly away is far easier to kill than one which can.

I watch Komand'r batter down the shields of another frigate and fire some sort of rock drill construct at the ship, crunching through the hull and mashing the interior.

Ships are increasing power generation.

I nod to myself. I supplied both Komand'r and Koriand'r with crumbler rounds, but neither were able to reliably create, load and fire construct railguns in combat. Then again, they're managing well enough without them. Perhaps my dream of a perfect kill was interfering with their actualisation of a good kill?

Ships attempting to initiate long range communications.

I nod again. Ring, monitor and prepare to jam.

Compliance.

"Captain Gralg of the Assailant to Citadel Complex. I'm under attack by-"

Now.

"-Orange Lanterns! I need assistance! Any ships in the-. Citadel Complex? Citadel Complex, respond!"

Perfect.

The Assailant accelerates and rolls, attempting to line up their heavier topside guns with Koriand'r. Their point defence guns are already firing, but after a few painful kicks up the arse from me she's gotten the hang of automatic evasion. It's not light speed dodging, but while lasers are light speed their mounts aren't.

The other ships are moving into position to assist. The Citadel uses a fleet composition not unlike that of the United States navy, with battleships taking the place of carriers. The other ships are literally there to support the battleship and none of them are more than a tenth of its size. I watch as Komand'r checks her lines of sight and ducks behind another point defence frigate, using it to shield her from the other vessels while she uses construct claws to pull apart its shields before firing orange energy pulses at the ship itself. Two cruisers accelerate away from the flagship, trying to get a shot at her. Too late for the frigate as its armour cracks and crumbles under the power ring assault. A chunk of the hull comes away and the bridge loses power and atmosphere. A well run ship can carry on fighting once decapitated, but as a rule Citadelians don't have the organisation.

Komand'r decides not to bother finding out for certain and fires another beam at the ship's unarmoured interior before dodging between the oncoming medium-sized ships. That's not a good-. Oh, I see what they're doing; they're giving the point defence frigates the most time they can to get their shots off. The frigates have turned so that the weapons on one side can shoot at Koriand'r who is still attacking the Assailant while their other facing can shoot Komand'r as she engages the cruisers. The low power of their weapons isn't much of a threat to the combat-power shields of their larger brethren but they're still capable of harming a Lantern who isn't specifically trying to block them.

Komand'r slashes at one of the primary turrets of the first cruiser as her construct armour begins cracking up under the weight of point defence fire. Koriand'r is forced to create a shield construct to protect her while she attempts to thrust her orange-coated hands through the Assailant's armour.

Alert: battleship's drive charging.

Oh? I thought they'd keep trying for longer than this. Maybe the Captain has realised that his ship isn't really contributing against such small targets. I suppose that it doesn't really matter.

Komand'r flies past the cruisers and envelops herself in orange, diving through the shields of a frigate and into the ship beneath. Hiding in the hull, yes, that might help. Koriand'r turns away from the hull to generate a gun construct and using it to fire a burst of broad spectrum radiation to blind her attackers before switching position.

Alert: battleship's drive activating.

"Pull back now."

The Assailant shimmers and the orange glow from my ring matches it as I prepare to intercept its flight.

 

[Mr Zoat]

27th July
02:41 GMT

The most powerful ships on the seas of Earth are aircraft carriers. The most powerful weapons of Earth overpower its most powerful defensive technologies by a huge margin. These two factors have led quite a lot of science fiction writers to assume that space combat would be similar, small attack ships being the primary way of dealing damage due to their weapons being capable of damaging larger ships while larger ships would struggle to hit them. Star Wars was perhaps the most extreme example, with the first Death Star being destroyed by a single fighter. Babylon 5 had a similar dynamic, Farscape had the Peacekeepers working from Command Carriers, Battlestar Galactica had… Well, Battlestars.

The only counterexample that immediately comes to mind is Star Trek where fighters generally didn't exist until the liberation of Deep Space Nine during the Dominion War and big ships pretty much ruled. Most ships featured… Actually, I can't think of a counterexample. They didn't bother with point defences, and I don't remember armour getting mentioned until the Defiant was built. Phasers and disruptors, torpedoes and shields was what made good ships. Agility meant little; your enemy would always be able to see you and you were mostly fighting with light speed weapons at close range. You needed big ships to contain big reactors and you needed big reactors to power your big shields and power the weapons you were going to use to punch through your enemy's big shields. The reactors on small ships weren't powerful enough to power weapons capable of damaging big ships or shielding the small ships well enough to enable them to survive.

Real space combat is… Quite a lot more variable. The Citadel doesn't want to get overrun by attack craft. However, their warriors don't make particularly good pilots. And they've got a bit of a thing about their battleships being the biggest around. So, they have an entire class of frigates whose job it is to shoot small things and leave shooting big things to their battleships. And that -rather than cowardice- is why Captain Gralg is leaving the combat zone. He'd rather fight us, but he's had the lesson hammered into him that we're not something his flagship is designed to be able to fight.

His ship also isn't all that manoeuvrable, but it does have the best FTL speed of any ship in the local Citadel fleet. That's because its FTL system isn't having to fight against the ship's momentum and sheer mass to make it go from point A to point B. It can just dump full combat power into the drive and boof, off it goes. Normally it would have to hold back a bit so as to avoid leaving its support ships behind, but since the aim here is to leave them behind that isn't something Captain Gralg is worrying about. He's worrying about leaving the two Lanterns attacking his fleet behind and he's worrying about warning the Citadel.

He isn't worrying about me, sitting directly between him and the Citadel in interstellar space with an interdiction field construct. He isn't worried because at the point he set out he knew that there wasn't an interdiction field along his flight path. The only way to intercept his ship would be to know exactly when he left, and at that point he'd already be moving vastly faster than light. FTL sensors and comms that good are rare, and the sheer volume of space would usually foil such an attempt anyway.

Usually.

And then any potential hijacker would get to -if you'll excuse the phrase- witness the firepower of a fully armed and operational battleship. Unless they knew exactly where it would appear and could get inside its primary shield envelope before it could recalibrate. And even then, battleships are a source of pride for the Citadel in a way their smaller ships aren't. These things often have Psion-built enhancements like ludicrously tough hull armour for just tanking hits, prow spatial disruptors for horrifyingly effective ramming actions, highly acute targeting sensors and high-fidelity assault teleporters. I would not want to fight these with a fleet.

Fortunately, I'm not a ship.

The Assailant appears immediately before me in a flash of red, my ring immediately checking the damage,-

Battleship drive inoperative.

-shoving me around to match velocity and rotation as the battleship's hull zooms towards me at a worrisome pace-

Movement matched.

-and the shields come up behind me and a salvo of crumbler rounds fire at the hull directly in front of me.

Hull breached.

And while the weaker inner shields quickly re-establish themselves, I've got just enough time to transition inside.

The universe slows as the Citadelian soldiers in the above-port marines station try reacting to my presence. In battle, the Citadel uses marines for boarding ships that have been crippled but not killed. They use power armour and their natural strength to force their way through the damaged hull and engage the crew directly. If this ship has high-fidelity teleporters then there'll be another marine detachment assigned to that as well. Those aren't sent into wrecks but into ships still fighting back, a high risk move for those dispatched as the device has to be careful to match relative velocity if they don't want the marines to get turned to paste inside their target. Of course, if they aren't trying to capture their enemy then they can just send over a bomb instead.

Construct armour forms around me and filaments move out. The process is a lot faster than it used to be, but it's still something that at this speed I can see happening. The Citadel soldiers around me are already at battle stations, armed and armoured. The ring shows me the arms that are already moving to bring their weapons to bear on me and-

Warning: exotic transportation defence active.

-warns me that transitioning while on board wouldn't be clever.

The robot turrets are the highest priority. Only three of them, as their simple programming just isn't adaptable enough for chaotic boarding operations. In situations like this on the other hand the fact that they can't be surprised and don't need thinking time makes them the main threat. By pure chance the one furthest away had its main turret pointing my way when I appeared. It noted that I didn't match Citadelian profiles and opened fire immediately. Plasma rather than laser, which is why the first shot is intercepted by my construct armour rather than striking my armour and environmental shield. Three shots hit me before my crumbler rounds strike it, the first frying its shield generator and the second hitting its main battery.

It gets a fourth shot as it starts to explode and I move on to the other two at the same time as reaching out towards the closest marines with beams of orange light. The second turret manages a single shot which strikes my left shoulder before being shot through with a crumbler round. The third doesn't even manage that, having been facing in the opposite direction to the point where I came in and then the beams hit the marines.

Citadel marine armour is good. Hermetically sealed against vacuum exposure, armoured and force field protected and containing all the integrated communications and sensor technology that any people with pretensions to interstellar dominance should possess.

I have a power ring.

The beams of orange light smash aside the force field, bore through the helmet and strike the Citadelian beneath.

Brand.

Branding.

I shove off, thrusting myself through the room. As sped up as my mind is-

Mental pathway damage limit reached. Acceleration discontinued.

-isn't any more! Plasma bolts slam into me, other Citadelians and the walls, floor and ceiling! Beams of orange light lash out in return, punching through armour and branding those beneath with my mark. My construct armour fails, my armour's kinetic barrier doing little to absorb the heat of the plasma bolts. I keep moving, Citadel soldiers who have already been branded charging their former comrades as I fill them with the desire to aid me. I form construct tower shields as the unaffected soldiers turn their weapons towards the ones who work for me, and use the momentary respite to release the Praexis Demons.

I need as many alive as possible. Eat their guns.

A moment later the fire that had been heading my way drops to next to nothing as the swarm makes itself a more urgent target. Demons evaporate under plasma fire only to reappear from my ring, soldiers branded and not punch, shoulder charge and shoot one another while I fire beam after beam to convert the unaffected.

No alarms, I note. The Citadel doesn't use shipwide alarms, preferring to transmit the messages to individual soldiers.

The three surviving free marines realise that they've lost the room and fall back, the fortified door sealing itself behind them. But they haven't got anywhere to go; none of the Assailant's parasite craft have FTL and I'm still jamming their communications. I land and look at my troops, replacing my construct armour and repairing my power armour as I do so. Around me, marines with orange brands glowing on their chests under their armour pick one another up, strip the dead of their weapons and apply medkits to their wounded.

Good. Now for the rest of the ship.

 

[Mr Zoat]

27th July
02:57 GMT

Given that boarding actions are a feature of local warfare Citadelian bridges are designed to be tough. Bridge stations are fortified, protected by the same material as the outer hull as well as weak force fields. The whole bridge could be exposed to space without preventing anyone here doing their jobs. In addition, automatic gun turrets can emerge from the ceiling and the walls to support the standing marine force. In most fights it is massively excessive, and if I'd tried charging the marines working for me into here I doubt that any of them would have lived.

"Ready, Strike Team Leader?"

The main generators are already under the control of my branded marines. Between them and those we've killed, the Captain now commands a force that is about thirty percent of what he started out with and no way to counterattack. But the loyalists still hold the bridge -which on a Citadelian ship also contains the primary computer core- and the location I want to capture next. Exotic technologies.

The hulking Citadelian next to me makes the clenched right fist gesture of readiness. Then he appears to hesitate before returning it to his gun. "Master?"

"Yes. Speak."

"The soldiers inside. Two of them are my batch-brothers."

"I'll take them alive if at all possible."

"Thank you, master."

It's fascinating. Maybe it's due to their implants and how accustomed they were to having the First's thoughts constantly in theirs, but the Citadelians are adapting to the brand far better than I expected them to. I thought they'd end up like Doctor Jones, near-stupefied with their desire overwritten. As it is, other than a 180 in their loyalties they're just as functional as they were before. Or maybe it's their familiarity with the sorts of task I'm asking them to perform?

Exotic technologies is home to the device preventing me from transitioning and -as it turns out- phasing. Transitioning is useful but not essential. Phasing on the other hand is essential to my plan to take the bridge. It's also home to the ship's Psion work detail. None of them are top tier researchers but I suspect that we're about to run into something unpleasant.

Which is what Praexis Demons are for.

I don't even bother firing crumbler rounds at the force field protecting the doorway, I just wave my left arm and the Demons start sucking on it. Exotic technologies is quite close to the main generators because it needs so much power. The force field and 'facilities' stuff runs on internal power but there was a remote shut down built into the generator controls which was intended to be used in the event that one of the devices went wrong. Or the Psions did something the Citadel didn't like. Exotic technologies also has its own computer system which means that I don't have access to a record of exactly what they've got in there. Standard protocol says that if the shield is up then most of the marines have already left…

The force field goes down, my Demons faceplanting into the reinforced door beyond. Immediately, a Citadelian breaching team comes forward and stabs into it with the x-ionised blades I provided to them. Making precise cuts with the swords is not easy while wearing that armour, but trying to use explosives to get through would be an exercise in futility. A construct would work, but I don't want to give anyone watching more information on my precise capacities than I absolutely have to. And if those inside suddenly open the door I want the marines to take the brunt of whatever attack they've put together in my place.

Huh. Thinking about it, these guys might end up being the last Citadelians left. Sobering.

Cuts made around the edge of the door the breaching team plant clamps on its surface and get a solid grip. The second line squad moves up behind them, guns at the ready. Praexis Demons hover over their heads, ready to surge forward and eat anything that causes me any trouble.

"Breach."

The breaching team lift and push forward, the huge wedges of fortified door they cut free acting as palisades as they enter the exotic technology chamber. As soon as the gaps appear the Praexis Demons fly forward and flow around them. I get a flash of the interior as a plasma bolt from the marine squad inside destroys a Demon and sends it back to my ring. Six marines in cover behind heavy machinery. No support weapons. No sign of the Psions.

The palisades start to take hits, but the breaching team push forward to give the marines behind them space and a moment later my side opens fire. They're mostly just trying to force those inside to keep their heads down; there's no chance they could penetrate the door shields with the weapons they're using but they could get a lucky hit. I send a couple of Praxis Demons to get a look at the rest of the room-.

Agh, some sort of drone weapon. Small, but rapid firing and powerful enough to destroy my Praexis Demons. Eh, as long as you don't try shooting them in the mouth that doesn't actually take too much. The rest of the Praexis try swarming the marines, who respond by stepping back into cover and switching their guns to plasma-flamethrower mode. The Praexis Demons evaporate before their inferno, but that does obscure their line of sight somewhat. I dart forward, flying close to the ceiling as I move around the breaching team and lash out at the defenders' sides with orange beams.

"Nonono!"

Not a Citadelian, they don't breach communications discipline. Who else? Psion, presumably. This section has internal doors I can't scan past, but I can't-

Brand complete.

-tell which of them…

Brand complete.

I form a railgun and load a crumbler round and then fire it at the closest door. A circle of the sensor dampening material disappears, revealing a store room.

"Now!"

The universe slows. Really, they should know not to give me audible cues like that.

A door on the other side of the room opens… Quite quickly, for a door. Still pretty slow to me. On the other side three Psions are hiding at the back of a electronics workshop while a terrified fourth mans a stationary gun. Even as the door gets wide enough apart for me to see them there's a sort of small distortion in the air immediately in front of it. It was probably set to fire as soon as the door got wide enough open for it to fire. It's pointing directly at me so I start moving at the same time as I mentally signal the Praexis Demons to attack it.

Brand complete.

The closest ones will reach it in slightly less time than it would take me to create a laser construct and shoot it, and are far better at getting around defences.

Brand complete.

There's a faint movement in the air between the gun and I, which seems to spread out as it reaches the hot and electrically charged air between the Citadelians. What's left hits me a glancing blow… And doesn't appear to do anything very much. My construct armour trembles slightly but beyond that I don't appear to be affected.

End acceleration.

Compliance.

The Praexis surge forward, the one closest to the gun chomping down on the muzzle and biting it off. The Psion falls back in terror-

"I surrender! I surrender!"

And the one I assume to be either the most intelligent or the most desperate waves his empty hands to try and get my attention.

Brand complete.

Amplify.

Compliance.

"Accepted. Lie on the floor and make no aggressive movements."

They can't obey fast enough.

Brands complete.

That's the lot. "Cease fire."

Immediately, my marines stop attacking. I float in the direction of the cowering Psions.

The one who surrendered looks up from where he lies on the floor. "Please don't turn us into constructs!"

"Alright. I won't. But you work for me, now."

He nods and smiles in the most toady way he can manage.

"Now get up. You're going to be turning some of these devices off for me."

 

[Mr Zoat]

27th July
04:23 GMT

The door into the bridge opens and my Lanterns stroll through, Komand'r looking at each of the marines on guard duty with extreme suspicion. "So. A success?"

I step away from the captain's station and spread my arms wide. "What does it look like?"

Once I had exotic technologies under control, I could just phase up through the bridge floor and brand Captain Gralg. Naturally, as captain, his command station is the most heavily fortified though -in a remarkable display of sagacity- he didn't have access to anything that would let him override the turrets. Still, my ability to phase out, dropping underneath the deck and then phasing back in at each bridge station made overrunning the bridge a doddle.

Komand'r doesn't look convinced. "And they are now loyal to you?"

"Sort of. I modified their desires so that they now want to serve me as they once wanted to serve the Citadel."

I see a glimmer of desire from her at that, at the idea of having a legion of soldiers with no thought but how they may best please you. "You didn't tell me that was something we could do."

Koriand'r on the other hand looks a little unwell. "You can.. make people feel whatever you want them to?"

"I can make them want things or not want things, yes. I don't know if you can. It took me a while to learn, and assimilation is much more straight forward." Koriand'r still looks uneasy. "Would you rather I killed them?"

"Rather than violating their minds? I understand that you had to do this to the captain, but all of the rest? Yes."

"Simpleton." Komand'r sneers. "You would really rather he have killed every last one of them? And what if the Citadel Complex demands the chance to scan the ship's interior before allowing it past the inner defences? 'Captain Gralg, what happened to your crew?'."

She doesn't look happier. "If it makes you feel better, I can remove it once we're finished." She nods, mildly mollified. "What state did you leave the rest of the fleet in?"

Komand'r grins. "Not a single ship was left capable of moving under its own power. It was glorious."

"And the exterior of this ship? It needs to look like it's been in a fight?"

Komand'r had walked past me, strolling up to one of the marines and shoving his helmet with her right hand. His armour is far too heavy and resilient to be moved by her push, but he moves his right hand up to knock her away. "Hm. Not mindless."

"No, very much not mindless." I turn to Koriand'r. "How does the ship look?"

"The damage I caused to the hull during the initial attack is quite visible, and the hole you made is also noticeable. There should not be any difficulty in convincing the Citadel that it is genuine."

I nod. "Good. Captain, how long until we arrive?"

"A little under an hour, master, though we will reach the outer perimeter shortly." He smiles at me. "It is good to have clear direction again."

Koriand'r's face falls. "Did you.. make him.. enjoy it?"

"No. Citadelians are used to having the First's thoughts in their minds thanks to their cybernetic implants. When I killed him, that stopped. If he says that he likes it, then… He does."

Komand'r looks the captain over. "Will they survive the battle, do you think?"

"You'd be surprised. Captain Gralg has been filling me in on recent Citadel politics. Captain?"

The Captain grins. "Any Citadelian who rises high enough to become Emperor inevitably becomes unpopular with all of the rest. We all share the First Citadelian's desire to conquer and control. His thoughts are our thoughts, his blood our blood. Emperors inevitably become soft and indolent. With the First Citadelian's voice in our heads, we just grumbled about being told what to do by the Emperor until the First too grew tired of them and had one of his admirals depose him."

Komand'r nods in understanding. "And now he isn't telling you not to…"

"The only reason he isn't already dead is that the Admirals can't decide which of them should take his place."

"If he had any sense, he'd already have nominated one of them as his heir to try and break up their cartel."

"As you say, master. All I have to do to keep the fleet off me is declare for one Admiral over the others."

"And while he's doing that, we'll be hunting down the Emperor and the computer core. Our aim is to turn the Citadel Complex's defences against the rest of the fleet."

Komand'r nods. "And the shipyards?"

"No guarantees, but we are aiming to kill everything. Once the fleet -present company excepted- is vapour, there won't be anything to stop us taking anything large enough to be worth keeping and towing it back to Tamaran."

"We just have to survive first."

"If you'd like to back out-."

Her face hardens. "Hardly. I'm simply trying to be realistic." She thinks for a moment. "What would you say to us-?"

The navigator turns towards me. "Master, we will be returning to subluminal velocity imminently."

"Understood." I turn and head towards the main bridge doors. "Your highnesses, if you wouldn't mind? The Emperor won't demand to scan the entire ship but he will want to look at the bridge."

I hear them fall in behind me as I pass through the doors and head towards the lifts.

Koriand'r rises off the ground and comes alongside me on my right. "Do you know the size of the fleet which the Citadel has guarding Citadel Complex?"

"Yes." I raise my right hand and generate an approximate diagram of their disposition. "Assuming that nothing has changed since yesterday, one dreadnaught, twelve battleships like this one, about two hundred cruisers and far too many smaller vessels. In addition, there will probably be at least one battleship-equivalent from the Branx and from the Psions, and perhaps a smattering of Gordanian ships. And at least eight times the tonnage in static defences. Not counting Citadel Complex itself or the anti-ship weapons on the planet below."

Komand'r comes alongside me on my left. "Far too many for us to fight directly. Unless you've been holding anything else back?"

"If I had to fight them directly, I would join with the Ophidian. I do know how to use more sophisticated constructs than I have shown you so far, but they require more specialist training. I believe-" I land in the lift. "-that this plan is sound." I swirl my right hand around, generating a new image. "I suggest familiarising yourselves-" A bolt of orange flashes from my ring to each of theirs. "-with the internals of the Citadel Complex."

They nod as I use my ring to access the bridge. We're out of FTL and the face of a Citadelian I don't particularly recognise is on the main screen.

"What are you doing back, Gralg?"

"We were attacked, Admiral. By Orange Lanterns. My ship is in urgent need of repairs and my fleet in need of reinforcements. Permission to approach and make my report to the Emperor."

The face on the screen snarls. "Granted. Maintain course and heading. I'll get a work crew in place and wake the Emperor."