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

[Mr Zoat]

16th August
I'll get back to you

"Do you know how many ships they're sending?"

"Only approximately. The parts of myself I use to manipulate gravity can sense the distortions created by matter, but the resolution is poor by the standards you are accustomed to."

"Okay, let me go and I'll take a look."

"That is where I am still uncertain."

I bow my head slightly, nodding. "Because they won't kill you if you've done what they told you to, but they might if you're actively helping me."

"If it is Mongul, then he would kill me without a doubt."

I look up. "And then what?"

"Your remains will either decorate his throne room or I will be given them to fertilise my soils."

"But what happens to you?"

"I will continue."

"And Mongul will continue using your offspring as devices of torture and terror. Across quite a large swath of the galaxy that's all they're known for."

"I have seen your memories of the Beast. Do not expect me to believe that an Orange Lantern would be better regarded."

"Not yet. The difference is, we're in a position to do something about it. You're stuck. Do you know how long Mongul's species lives? Do you want to gamble on his heir treating you differently?"

"I have no need to gamble. I can wait."

"With bombs at your core ready to go off the moment he decides that he doesn't want you around any longer. But that's not my question. I know that you can survive like this. My question is: is this what you want?"

"No."

"What do you want?"

"When I was small and simple, it was the earliest stirrings of curiosity which led me to the surface." The kitchen falls away as she changes the illusion to show her former self deep underwater. Far from her current world-covering size, her former self was a ball of vines no more than five metres across. I watch her release her grip from the seabed and rise towards the shore of a small rocky island. I see her pull herself out of the water and plug her vines into the dying pilot of a small spacecraft. "When I interfaced with that alien's mind, I gained full access to his memories. You already know that I used that connection to induce a pleasant delusion as he died. What you do not know is that contact with his mind caused massive change within my own. I had no language before that. I hardly thought at all of anything save ocean currents and feeding. But contact with another mind taught me so much."

"About the universe? I assume that-."

"No." Time rapidly passes in the image, the alien decaying and Mother of Mercy growing. "About pain."

"That's.. what you took away from it?"

"I lacked sensory nerves in the way that you possess them. When I became damaged I was aware of it, but only in a far less immediate way. When I touched that first individual's mind it was pain that was the strongest sensation."

"I see."

"I now understand that it strongly slanted my still-forming mind, but-."

"Your first sentient thoughts were filled with pain. Someone else's, but I can see how that would colour your perception."

"So I created the parts of me you know as Black Mercies."

"How?"

"I believe that my ability to interface with other species was originally for hunting. I would be able to lure mobile species closer by connecting to their central nervous systems. Making them feel good is so much simpler than controlling their motor neurons."

"I meant, how did you know how to do that? To modify your body like that? Or is it just something your entire species can do?"

"I do not know. I have never encountered another being like me, or heard of anyone who has. Modifying my body felt natural. Perhaps it is how I am meant to reproduce."

"And you used your gravity manipulation abilities to send them out while calling spaceborne corpses back to you. What did you want?"

"To prevent pain."

"Have you stopped wanting to do that?"

"No."

"Tell me about the bombs."

"When I was smaller, they would have destroyed the planet but in a way I could have survived. Eventually I would have come to a new planet and awoken. Now, my roots extend down towards the mantle to draw upon geothermic energy and my growth buds reach outside of this world's atmosphere. I am too large. The detonation of any one bomb would kill me."

"Do you know where they are?"

"Yes. However, they are designed to react explosively to any attempt I might make to tamper with them."

"Can you touch their outer casing?"

"Yes. Mongul insisted that I do so in order to confirm that his threat was real."

It's not completely reliable, but… "Do they seem in any way strange to your gravity sense?"

"I don't know. I have had no other contact with antimatter."

"But you can sense the mass, yes?"

"Yes."

"Alright. Then I probably have a way to remove them. Or rather, I can give one to you."

"How?"

"I came here with a newly minted orange power ring. One of a power ring's abilities is to put objects into a subspace pocket. Now, I assume that the bombs are designed in such a way that tampering with one successfully triggers the rest-."

"You are an experienced Lantern. Why do you not remove them?"

"Because if you let me go and I have to do something like that, it'll be obvious. Our best chance for dealing with that fleet is for them to have no idea that you're hostile until it's too late for them to escape." I lean forwards slightly. "So I ask again: what do you want?"

"I want to be free."

"Then free me."

I feel a damp crunching from my chest as the field of rot reappears and the Black Mercy falls from my chest. That's a rather unpleasant-looking wound.

Wholeness Rightly Assumed.

Compliance.

I come to my feet and hold out my right hand, sliding the new ring free from my ring finger. Then I turn around to look at the towering mass of pale green vines and purple blisters which makes up the locus of Mother of Mercy's world-spanning consciousness.

"Mother of Mercy of Ater Clementia, you want to prevent suffering and I want you for the Orange Lantern Corps." She extends a tendril down towards me. "Take my ring."

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th August
22:42 GMT

Turns out, I did take precautions before letting Mother of Mercy stick a Black Mercy on my chest. And while I'm not exactly patting past-me on the back for that idea, it has worked. Mother of Mercy's locus is now sporting a glowing vine-knot in the pattern of an orange sigil and is working to envelop the antimatter planetary scuttling charges even as I use my ex-Darkstar stealth reconnaissance drones to observe the incoming fleet. On the plus side, no Warworld. If that monstrosity had turned up I think I'd probably try and work out how to run rather than trying to fight it.

On the downside, that's very definitely an Engine City parked on the super-Earth one place further from the local star than Ater Clementia. Engine Cities are the basis of Mongul's industrial base, and how a man who can barely withstand his desire to kill everyone around him at the best of times has a functioning empire. Giant, automated resource-extraction systems, the Engine Cities get planted on worlds he expands to after their population has stopped resisting -usually due to being dead- and turn them into more ships, robots and new Engine Cities. The fleet appears to have decided to stop off there prior to coming here, which suggests that they're not exactly in a hurry. Which in turn most likely means that they have accepted what Mother of Mercy… Sorry, Lantern Mother of Mercy, has told them about who she captured.

I don't remember a lot about Mongul, or his children Mongul Junior and Mongal. They're big, strong, tough and reasonably-but-not-super fast. Mongul was in Justice League Animated for a couple of episodes, where he was shown to be a high end brawler of reasonable intelligence. I also read 'For the Man Who Has Everything' after watching the Justice League Animated episode based on it. Based on that I'd call him arrogant and aggressive, and nothing on John's old ring database contradicts that assessment.

Assuming it's accurate, what does that tell me? If he thought I was a threat he'd come himself. If he felt that a member of a Lantern Corps -established or up and coming- was intruding on his territory then he'd come himself to avenge the insult and make the rest of the organisation think twice. And he wouldn't stop off somewhere first. In fact, he'd probably send someone else to do that after he'd dealt with me while he went back to whatever he'd been doing beforehand. So, minimal chance it's him.

While he has had subordinates before, they generally don't last long and those ships match the style of his main fleet. So, Mongul Junior -who briefly dethroned Sinestro in the comics- or Mongal. The only thing I remember her doing was taking part in the fight against Imperiax. Mongul Junior would probably be glad to take a ring from me, work with me to kill his father and then kill me as soon afterwards as he could. Mongal… Pass. No idea. She could be a chip off the old block or genuinely want to leave. I've got no way to know unless I get a good deal closer than I am right now.

"I am ready."

I nod. "There's only so much I can do defensively, but I'll put a barrier up underground. That won't stop the destruction of the planet, but it should keep some of the energy off us until I can get your core away. Have you made preparations for surviving that?"

"As much of my consciousness as can be moved is in the stem you see before you. I will still lose a good deal of my capacities, and will most likely enter a torpor while I attempt to heal myself."

"If it comes to it I'll put you in good soil. And have a Controller or two look you over to see if there's anything they can do to speed up the process."

"Thank you."

I kneel, shoving my left gauntlet into the vine carpet and then extending a thick thread of orange light downwards. As Lantern Mother of Mercy said, she doesn't have much feeling in most of her body so cutting through a vine or two won't actually hurt her. I'd still rather avoid it, though. Okay, avoid the main vines going downwards… We're about as far from the bombs here as we can get without leaving the surface, and there's a lot of solid rock in the way as well. But antimatter bombs ensure perfect energy release and the bombs here are big. Planets aren't solid bodies, but the shockwaves will still be large enough to shatter the surface entirely if two go off. One wouldn't do quite that much damage, but I still wouldn't want to try living here afterwards.

Of course, most of the matter would still be here and it would probably coalesce into a new planet in a few thousand years or so. But again, not really helpful.

I'm confident of my ability to extract Lantern Mother of Mercy's core even in a high-gamma radiation environment. And I'm.. a little curious as to what being blasted off a planet on a rock plug would feel like. But that at least is simple. If I assume that that doesn't happen, we'll still be left with the fleet. Lantern Mother of Mercy's gravity manipulation is long ranged but weak; no ripping ships apart or anything convenient like that. The ships have their shields at cruising power rather than combat power. I don't know exactly how much antimatter there is in the bombs, but if the shields are up I don't expect to be able to kill the ships with the bombs. The blast waves don't meaningfully travel through space and gamma radiation isn't that hard to deflect.

That Engine City, on the other hand, looks marvellously vulnerable. And I'd bet on crumbler rounds against their shields and my FTL against theirs. Reinforcements are unlikely. Mongul's people tend to go in mob-handed or not at all and if the commander of this flotilla fails Mongul then I doubt that there'll be retaliation in the short term.

Against me, anyway.

"I am about to take hold of the bombs."

"Okay." I spread out my construct shield-plate. "Give me a count-."

"It is done."

"Oh." I blink, then shrug inside my armour and stand up, dismissing my construct. "Ready for the next step?"

"Yes."

"Bombs at the ready. On my mark." Construct armour forms around my body as orange light spreads out across every part of Lantern Mother of Mercy's body. "Three, two, one, go."

If I don't get to try living through an antimatter-powered planet-busting then I'll have to make do with another first. The first time I've ridden on a faster than light planet.

"Hahahahahahahaha!"

I spread my arms wide and cackle dementedly as orange construct versions of the spires Lantern Mother of Mercy uses to manipulate gravity shoot upwards and the sky twists and jumps in response. It's not far to go but there's a lot of mass here and Lantern Mother of Mercy is somewhat new at this.

"They're asking what's happening."

I guess that's my cue then.

Space bends around me as I leap from the surface of Ater Clementia, the sheer grey walls of the fleet's largest ship appearing a moment later. I generate a construct railgun, paint a construct target on the side of the vessel and open fire with crumbler rounds as beneath me the surface of Ater Clementia's neighbour erupts in a ball of antimatter-enriched death. The Engine City vanishes, the continent it sat on evaporates and the planet's surface jerks in a way that's visible from space from the force of the blast. Ship's shield -I start taking laser fire from the ship's point defences but it's nothing my construct armour can't take- fails over a small area, okay, fine, new construct railguns and fire over a wider area.

There's more flickering as the shield restarts and then fails over a larger area. The gap between the shield and the hull-. Ring, transmit that to Lantern Mother of Mercy.

Compliance.

Should be enough room to dump a bomb in there through a gap… And my goodness doesn't having a planet suddenly appear out of nowhere cause a fleet to panic. One of the capital ships starts its FTL systems up immediately -which I jam- while the rest are trying to scatter with sublight drives.

"I am planting the bomb."

Not hanging around for that one. I warp back to Ater Clementia's surface, then have the ring show me the enemy fleet's capital ship. Around me plumes of fire from whatever weapons were pointed in our direction rain down on Lantern Mother of Mercy's construct shields, occasionally punching through to blast against the surface. Not much threat to her mind here but if they destroy too much she won't be able to use FTL for a while.

The capital ship wheels, armour plates sliding open as its anti-planet missiles prepare to fire and I start to feel just a little-.

Then the antimatter charges detonate. And it's beautiful.

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th August
22:45 GMT

The ship… I don't know what class it is. Given the missiles… Planetary assault dreadnaught, maybe? The blast shoves it sideways, the hull caving around the detonation as it eats through the armour and into the squishy interior. The point defence drones that were shooting at me evaporate around the hole in the ship's shields but… Hah! The shield sections that are still intact are reflecting the gamma burst inwards against the hull! That whole side of the ship is superheating! Lights flicker out as the internal power systems fail and ooh, someone was carrying antimatter!

The ship jerks again as its entire centre comes apart in a huge blast which splits the ship in two as well as eating through most of the interior as the armoured hull channels the blast inwards. Life signs, few and fading.

I turn back towards Lantern Mother of Mercy's locus. "Set course for Maltus, would you?"

"I will need to redirect effort from my defences to do that."

"Alright, I'll see if I can persuade them to back off. How many bombs left?"

"Eleven."

And they only have four capital ships left. Good show. I hold my left hand out in front of me, palm upwards. "Orange Lantern Two Eight One Four to whoever's in charge of Mongul's fleet. Cease fire and get lost, or we do to the rest of you what we did to your flagship."

I raise an FTL interdiction construct, focusing its effect on Ater Clementia's far side. Don't really want them repositioning around the planet or come closer, but I do want them to be able to leave. The surviving ships stop shooting and manoeuvre into something approaching a formation.

"I am Mongal and I command this fleet. That was not our flagship."

"Really?"

"I would not be talking to you if it was."

"No, I mean, Mongul seriously named his daughter 'Mongal'? Is he that arrogant or is he just not very good at names?"

"You destroyed our Engine City, our bulk carrier and now you childishly mock my name! Die!"

The capitals ships roll slightly, bring their guns to bear on the planet-.

"Distort gravity to turn their shots aside, then prepare to deploy the bombs."

"That will be difficult."

"You don't have to do it for long."

An image appears in my mind showing me what she means. The distortions she makes are gradual and not sharp. Where they are now she can turn their shots aside. As they come closer -which they're doing- the amount which the shots will be deflected drops. She could use her ring to change that, but smaller missiles and drone attack craft are already heading this way.

Ring, I'm assuming that they've blocked most forms of FTL?

Affirmative.

What aren't they blocking?

Luminal state drives are not blocked.

Alright, not my favourite form but I can work with that. The ship's main guns are fixed position, secondary weapons are mounted on ball turrets. They still have a fighter screen…

Ring, set subluminal emergence point to just past the last capital ship.

Compliance.

Engage.

There's a flash as my ring briefly convinces the universe that I'm made of faster than light particles, then the stars reappear. I spin about, phasing as I take a chance on the fleet not having noticed-. No, they noticed. I come back into phase and generate construct armour and railguns. Let's try… Solid slugs, I think. Target the interceptors until I'm close enough to mark the capital ships.

Compliance.

Tungsten slugs blast forth and… The drones are using gravity impellers, jerking left and right in defiance of momentum and effortlessly avoiding my shots. Fine, drop the railguns and switch to cold guns.

Compliance.

And adopt an evasive flight pattern.

Compliance.

Space wheels about me as my ring copies the style of my opponents without precisely copying their patterns, white beams from my cold guns being replied to by golden bolts of… Some sort of exotic radiation beam, apparently. A couple of strikes on my construct faceplate result in mild cracking, the majority of their shots going wide. Though that will change as they start to reach me. My own shots miss, miss-. Ah, that one carried on to hit one of the capital ships and.. caused a momentary collapse of its outer shield layer. A plasma field thick enough to absorb a cold beam? By most standards that's excellent shielding. That ship's a brawler.

A hit, and the drone tumbles in space. It doesn't stop but continues in a ballistic arc based on its momentum. Ring, try and line up more so that misses hit the capital ships.

That utility was already included in calculations.

Oh. Well done.

I watch as on the far side of the enemy fleet their main guns fire again, giant glowing beams lancing towards Ater Clementia and slowly bending away from their target. They skim the atmosphere before flying out into deep space.

Let's not let too many of those happen.

The drones start reducing their acceleration in order to avoid flying past me, making shooting them a little easier. The ones in a direct line start to die en masse but I'm aware that the swarm is starting to loop back and surround me. Since I'm not slowing and the angle isn't good for them at the moment I'm not taking extra hits myself, but that will change when they form up behind me.

Okay, close enough. I don't slow, but I switch my cold gun constructs for railguns and open fire. I'm not familiar with this particular shield configuration, but the ships have far too much mass for them to be able to dodge effectively. I think it was G'Kar who said that the logical places to aim when shooting at a ship were the drive and the weapons as both have to be exposed with minimal armour. And he wasn't wrong; while the primary generator, bridge and crew quarters will be deep inside the hull most ships use forms of sublight drive which require something to be expelled. Shielding also tends to be weaker due to the space requirements for the emitters. Not all, gravity drives don't need anything like that, but Mongul appears to use that for drones only. Odd choice, but, whatever.

Crumbler rounds slam into the shield around the exhausts of the closest capital ship, the barrier shimmering and failing, second layer going the same way and-. The top layer regenerated! Gosh, that was fast. Okay, I don't think I can match that to Lantern Mother of Mercy's bomb deployment, not without slowing down and getting shot dead by drones and point defences.

Brute force it is then.

"Lantern Mother of Mercy, prepare to deploy the first bomb wave."

"I am ready."

I fire again, sending thick strands of orange in the wake of the crumble rounds. The outer layer of shielding breaks again, but this time I generate an armoured construct cylinder in the place it used to be. The shield tries to flow back in from the sides even as the next crumbler round takes down the second layer and I extend the construct inwards. Tethers vanish as whoever's controlling the drones works out what I'm doing and I have to work to establish new ones faster than they can be destroyed. Come on… Yes! Three layers only, the next shot hit the hull directly.

"Now!"

Faster than I could think an orange beam envelopes the ship, Lantern Mother of Mercy dropping two bombs inside the now open shield envelope. I drop my construct and make a luminal jump away as the ship erupts from the rear.

 

[Mr Zoat]

16th August
22:48 GMT

While nothing like as cataclysmic as what happened to the cargo carrier, the effect is still substantial. The thrusters assembly is gone, the rear quarter of the ship almost entirely hollowed out with the hull and most heavily armoured internal structures sticking out into space. The shields are down all over the ship, so either the internal damage not immediately visible is so great as to take down the whole system or the commander saw the carrier fried by gamma containment and has decided that containing the radiation is a bigger risk to the ship than a follow up bomb.

If that was the case then they were badly wrong, as I'm already moving onto the next ship when the first is lit up with orange light once again as Lantern Mother of Mercy deploys another bomb. This one appears next to the primary weapon and detonates immediately. With the ship designed to point that weapon directly at its enemy the surrounding armour is massively thick and sophisticated. That, combined with the surrounding vacuum limiting shockwave transmission means that the front end isn't damaged anything like as badly as the rear. That is to say, it still exists. The main gun is slagged, the armour is glowing red as heavily distorted plates continue to boil away from the hull. And it looks like the secondary turrets are no longer tracking, so either power is down or we hit the bridge.

I alter my direction of travel, aiming at the next ship.

Ring, message to the fleet.

Compliance.

"Mongulists. Cease fire and withdraw or I do that to the rest of you."

"We will scour Ater Clementia of life before allowing you a victory!"

"While I would much rather recover Mother of Mercy, killing you represents an acceptable 'next best thing'. You know I can kill you. The most sensible thing you could do would be to fall back and try again when you're better prepared. I will not repeat this offer. Fire again, and we don't stop until your ships are wrecked and everyone on board is dead."

If it comes to that, Lantern Mother of Mercy will have taken substantial damage. I'd rather not make that trade…

Of course, if I'm really lucky Mongal will shout 'I'll kill you myself' and come after me in a personal fighter. If that happens I'll have a reasonable chance at turning the ship crews to my cause on the grounds that going back to Mongul minus an Engine City, a Mother of Mercy and a daughter wouldn't do much for their life insurance premiums.

"Three, two-."

"I accept your terms, but mark my words, Lantern! Your head will decorate my father's halls-!"

"And not yours. Yes, I rather understood that was how it worked. You know, if you'd rather work for someone else-?"

Channel closed.

Yes, I suppose that was a bit hopeful. The ships begin to wheel around, secondary turrets not even pointing at Ater Clementia. I don't stop or drop my railgun turrets, but as the drones fly past me without firing and head for their parent ships I start to wind down mentally. I alter my course to fall back slightly, keeping my guns trained on them but allowing my shot to gradually worsen. I wonder if there's a way to create faster than light crumblers? No, stupid question, obviously there is, but I wonder if there's a way to do it without building a full sized FTL torpedo. Those things aren't common for a good reason: they're far too easy to distract or disrupt. Some sort of… Space warping field projection, maybe..?

"Thank you for liberating me."

"There's a Human expression, Lantern Mercy. Don't count your chickens before they're hatched."

"Because some eggs may get eaten or otherwise be destroyed before that. Where can you see potential for a problem to arise?"

"Anger is a tricky beast. They might call in reinforcements, even knowing that we'd kill them in retaliation, rather than let us win. In order to let them leave I'm having to give them an escape vector where I'm not jamming faster than light travel. A way out is a way in."

"I have an additional problem."

"Oh, what's that?"

"Between the energy I am committing to the subspace pocket containing the remaining bombs and the shields I am maintaining to protect myself, my ring is very low on power."

"How low?"

"Eight percent."

"Okay, as long as they don't fire-."

"Seven percent."

What's using-? Gravity distortions. Maintaining a construct requires avarice, making it in the first place requires ring power. As long as those barriers don't get shot they don't take any more power, but the gravity distortions she's using to shield herself do. Can't recharge without dropping her construct…

Ring, is superluminal travel still available?

Confirmed.

Plot course to Lantern Mother of Mercy's locus and execute.

Compliance.

A flash and I'm back on the ground. I take a moment to reorientate myself and then march toward her, my left gauntlet disappearing into subspace as I do so.

"The plan is, you take my ring, switch to using that, then pass me your ring for me to recharge. Simple enough?"

"There will be a slight shift in the gravity distortion. They may be able to detect it."

"Six percent power remaining."

"They're quite a lot more likely to detect your construct barriers vanishing." I pull my ring off and hold it out to her. "Do it."

A tendril sprouts from my left, reaching out from the main mass. "No ritual handover this time?"

"Not for fieldwork."

Her tendril plucks my ring from my hand, my environmental shield going out as she does so. Okay, that always worries me a little, but… Air pressure's a little high on my left hand, but nothing dangerous. Local air isn't breathable by a standard pattern humanoid, but my armour's atmosphere recycling system can handle it easily for the few seconds it'll take for her to pass me hers. She pulls my ring to her central mass, a slight ripple passing through her environmental shield as she syncs them up.

"Did they notice?"

"I do not believe so." Another tendril swings around, her dimly glowing ring falling from the end into my waiting hands.

"Right."

I slide her ring onto my left ring finger, then summon her lantern from subspace. The new model lanterns look like miniature versions of the Orange Central Power Battery rather than the 'classic' design mine has. I wouldn't change it for anything, but I can't deny that the new version looks more… Appropriate, for a space-aged military police force.

"This is my cause, this is my fight-."

"Is that necessary?"

"No." I tap the ring against the body of the personal lantern.

"Charge at one hundred percent."

"But it's traditional. What we're doing, devoting our lives to improving the universe, it's a big deal. And it's easy to get distracted from the mission. Particularly with orange rings."

"How so?"

"Getting to do whatever you want is addictive. The oath is there to ensure that we constantly remind ourselves of our higher ideals, but… I don't intend to lock personal lanterns to a mantra, and there are Green Lanterns who don't use one."

"What should it consist of?"

"Something that reminds you of why you're doing this. What it is you hope to achieve with your ring. And it's traditionally four lines of eight syllables in whatever language you choose for it."

"Then I believe that I have something in mind for my own."

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th August
03:04 GMT

I lean back slightly as I look at the effect of Mother of Mercy's spatial warp through her atmosphere. It's kind of.. soothing in a way that my own warps aren't. No sign of pursuit from the Mongalites, though we have had the occasional curious transmission from ships and worlds that we've travelled past.

But, joyride's over.

"Orange Lantern Two Eight One Four to Controller Hinon. Please respond."

"Paul!" Hinon's smiling face appears over my ring. "We were beginning to worry that something might have happened to you."

"Really?"

"I was. Dox was being depressingly sanguine about the whole thing. What news?"

"Recruitment successful. Mother of Mercy has accepted an orange ring and performed well in combat."

"'Mother of Mercy'? Is she theologically inclined? I did think about the possibility of using the theologically inclined as Lanterns when Krona and I brainstormed the subject…"

"Not as… Far as I know." I glance back, keeping Hinon from getting a look at Lantern Mother of Mercy's locus. "Are you?"

"My children have posed as a being of religious veneration for untold millions of dying sophonts. I have no inclination to such reverence myself."

I nod, then turn back to Hinon. "She says 'no'."

"So who is she?" Hinon cocks her head to the side a little. "You didn't give a ring to your Spider-friend, did yo-?"

"No."

"Hmm. Given the significance of your first recruitment mission I doubt that you would have done anything so dull as recruit another Humanoid. An AI, perhaps? I'm sure that Dox would appreciate someone on his wavelength." Her eyes widen slightly. "You haven't reconditioned a Manhunter, have you?"

I frown. "No. That's something that no one should ever do. And I'm a bit iffy on the Fists, to be honest."

"Did you know that the Guardians still use them?"

"What, Fists? Yes, Jordan's report on Sinestro's arrest-."

She huffs. "No, not Fists. Manhunters."

What? "What?"

"Manhunters. You know, the big red and blue robot things-.

"I know what the Manhunters are. Why the.. heck are the Guardians still using them?"

"Waste not want not. After the remaining ones were deactivated, they kept them in one piece as objects of study, then.. later as aids to memory. Eventually they reprogrammed them for guard duty."

Huh. Logically, if their programming was completely stripped out… I really don't think that the Guardians would have made the same mistake twice. Still…

"Yes, I see that you don't approve. Would you like to guess where they're deployed?"

"The Sciencells? I can't think of any other locations they might want to guard that don't get visi-." I blink. "No."

"Where else would they put them? You yourself have already seen how the Guardians like to conceal multiple sins behind the same exclusion zone. Anywhere else and someone was bound to stumble across them sooner or later."

"Abin Sur went there. He couldn't have missed them."

"Green Lanterns tend to have a rather narrow focus. Though I don't know for certain, I imagine that utilising the simple expedient of hiding in interstellar space with their power cores turned down to minimum would have been sufficient."

"Huh. I might-."

"Ooh, that's a rather large warp displacement. Did you decide to bring a ship of some kind with you?"

"We are nearly at the boundary of Maltusian space."

I glance back with a nod. "Very well. Return us to normal space at your convenience. Hinon, I hope that the Controllers on catching duty have had their Weetabix."

"Now I'm curiou-" The space outside Ater Clementia's atmosphere steadily returns to normal. "-oh my goodness. You recruited a planet."

"Technically, a macroorganism who covers the entire surface rather than the planet itself. I thought, the Green Lantern Corps has Mogo, and he has a certain.. presence. So we need one."

Hinon considers that for a moment. "Yes, very orange of you. I'll.. just go and let Dox know."

"I don't think he can have missed a new planet. Where would you like her to enter orbit?"

"I do hope that you're referring to her orbiting Sto-Maltus. I have no interest in turning Maltus into a binary planetary system."

"And she'd block your light."

"Mm, yes. Can she manage ninety degrees to the system orbital plane?"

"Yes, she can."

"Good show. Try not to hit anything important on your way in."

"How is Clarissi Dox's recruitment effort going?"

"Oh, he's had several volunteers from amongst his fellow prisoners. I'm not sure how compatible they would be with orange power rings, but they'll be useful additions to either the Darkstars or whatever he decides to call his fleet."

"I'll talk to them once Mother of Mercy has parked. Anything from the Darkstars?"

"Several possibles, although I have a sneaking suspicion that your preferred recruitment criteria may be a little different to the ones we've been using."

It wouldn't surprise me.

"Do you have anyone else you want to shanghai into our service, or do you intend to make yourself available for teaching now?"

"I have a few people in mind, but I think that doing some assessment work would be a worthwhile use of my time now." Before you people do anything too crazy.

"I suppose that it's hard to top a planet."

"That too."

"I'll expect you when I see you, then. Hinon out."

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th August
09:23 GMT

The Admiral in the strange looking uniform of blue with gold decoration of the Crown Imperium raises a fluted glass in a toast. "To a truly satisfying campaign."

I nod to his as I raise my own in return. "To new allies."

The stuff in the glass isn't wine. It actually tastes vaguely minty, but it serves the same high-class social lubricant function as wine does on Earth. From the fact that there are several other glasses on the sideboard I'm going to assume that I wasn't the only person invited and from the lack of serving staff it seems likely that what he wants to discuss isn't for the ears of the lowlies. Oh, he wouldn't put it in exactly those terms, -not that 'lower orders' is much better- but the Crown Imperium is quite open about its aristocratic form of government.

"My other guests will be arriving shortly, but I thought that there were one or two things we should discuss between ourselves first."

Somewhere below us the Gordanian clans are on the receiving end of a hundred and fifty very angry Orange Lanterns, as well as hundreds of thousands of Imperial Marines and a lesser but still quite determined complement from the Karnans. Fleet operations were decisively concluded in our favour hours ago, but I think my fellow commanders and I wanted to remain 'on station' just in case anything demanded our immediate attention.

I nod politely. "Certainly." I'm not surprised. The Crown Imperium is the only stellar nation of any real size in this region of space. Certainly, it's the only one that never 'came to terms' with the various outlaw groups. And now that it's pretty much inevitable that we'll win here, it's only natural that they're looking to the future in which one of their near-neighbours is an Apokoliptian with a Lantern Corps under his command. I'm willing to do quite a lot to keep them on-side, as long as they don't get stupid about it.

"I understand that you've planted your standard on Tamaran. A curious choice, if you don't mind me saying so?"

"Tamaran was the only Vegan stellar state that fought the Citadel until they could fight no more. I see in them the potential for great things."

"The Karnans did something similar."

I smile. "The Karnans' reaction to the Gordanian uprising was probably more rational, but it was far less heroic. And it contained no real prospect of ultimate victory."

"And yet, here we are. The Karnans have a fleet-"

A mildly upgraded but far smaller fleet than the one the Gordanians destroyed during their uprising.

"-and Tamaran doesn't have an industrial base that can't be written off as a rounding error."

I frown. "Admiral, that's simply not true."

"Oh? Since when? Our intelligence reports are reasonably up to date."

"Since yesterday. We relieved the Branx of their shipyards and asteroid mining facilities. It will take a while to bring them up to full speed, but Tamaran currently has the largest shipyards in the region. Not-" I tilt my glass his way. "-quite so large as those of Karaltine, of course. But there's always room to expand."

Euphorian experts plus G-Gnomes aren't an immediate fix, but they'll get the job done far faster than the figure Admiral Oswin is now using in his mental calculations. Simply occupying Vega wasn't really a possibility for them; too much space, too many threats, not enough ships. But I imagine they'd be quite happy to have a puppet Karnan state as the dominant force in the region's politics. Heh. I'd assumed that Euphorix would be more of a problem. I'd prepared for that. Proxy influence fights weren't something that it had occurred to me might be a problem.

"Ah." Admiral Oswin nods. "That's one residual problem dealt with, then. Have you given any thought to the Psions?"

"I'm trying to work out a feasible technique for neutralising them that doesn't result in us killing them all. But… I don't see any need to hurry. It would be more in character for them to wait for things to stabilise than for them to take precipitous action."

He nods again. "Our analysts agree. I assume that you have no objections to coordinating on the problem?"

I shake my head. "Not at all. Though I should be clear: the Wombworld isn't Karna. There's no prospect at all of a successful occupation, and no obvious value in making the attempt."

"I'm in no hurry to throw the lives of my marines away attempting to take it by storm. Fleet action, do you think?"

"Combined action. My Lanterns should be able to take out their anti-ship defences if you don't mind bombarding the place."

"I would be delighted to." He drains the remainder of his glass and pours himself a second before raising the decanter interrogatively at me.

I extend my near-empty glass. "Thank you."

"How much thought have you given to the aftermath of the campaign?"

"That's where I've put most of my thought. I intend to create a resurgence of Tamaranian power, and have the resulting stellar nation secure, pacify and civilise this region. I will not allow Vega to continue to be a safe harbour for pirates and slavers."

"And the area outside Vega?"

"We don't want that to be a haven for pirates either. But… Tamaran is reindustrialising, and I have only so many Lanterns. If you wish to keep the peace there yourselves, be my guest. Tamaran can only benefit from having civilised nations as neighbours and allies."

"And Karna? We have a certain.. relationship with its people."

"I don't intend to force them into anything, certainly not violent conquest. My intent is for them to gradually slip into Tamaran's sphere of influence, but if they don't…" I shrug. "Then they don't. It will be far more useful to maintain a friendly relationship with them than it would be to have a world of vengeful serfs. I doubt that the Tamaranians would tolerate me trying to do to someone else what was done to them even if I wanted to. Which I don't."

"I'm pleased to hear it. I will of course convey your words to the Empress, but I'm not hearing anything that is against the Imperium's fundamental interests."

I wonder if this was how Stalin felt during the Fourth Moscow Conference?

"As we say on Apokolips, 'it's nice not to have to shoot your ally in the back immediately after finishing off your mutual enemy'."

He looks a little concerned at that, but I make a point of sniggering and he seems to understand that it was a joke. "Speaking.. of.. 'Apokolips', I was wondering-?"

The door on the far side of the room opens and a blonde Karaltinian man in a blue side-buttoning coat with a solidly yellow coloured five pointed star on the chest enters the room. There are a pair of yellow goggles holding back his fringe and his.. trousers are blue jodhpurs. The long shepherd's crook he carries in his right hand makes the identification easy enough, but I'm still a little curious…

He nods to me. "Lantern Gravyen."

"Prince Gavyn. Forgive me, but I thought that you were dead? Something about being pushed out of an airlock?"

He nods, a wry smile on his lips. "Not quite. I narrowly dodged the execution attempt and then I hid under the 'Starman' identity for years. But you can only save an Empire so many times before they feel obligated to pardon you."

I nod. "I know that feeling." Admiral Oswin passes his prince a glass and the three of us raise them slightly in a non-toast before taking a sip. "Who else are we expecting?"

"The Supreme Commander Gaharrugh of the Karna delegation, your princesses of course, and Queen Kalista and Sir Pren of the Omega Men."

I affect a blank expression. "The who?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th August
09:57 GMT

"…understand why you ask, but it doesn't really work like that on Apokolips."

Supreme Commander Gaharrugh's fur is mottled brown and dull orange, and he's wearing what appears to be a slightly modified -Karnanised, perhaps- version of the Imperial Navy's light body armour. Though for some reason his feet are bare, his claws tucked safely away to avoid poking holes in the carpet. He was a little surprised by my physical size -I imagine that he'd gotten used to generally being the largest person in the room- and started sizing me up almost immediately.

Queen Kalista smiles in a politely inquisitive manner. "Then how does it work?"

She's wearing a highly impractical purple, mauve and white dress that appears to be trying to conceal exactly how she's changed physically in the long years of conflict. She's certainly lost body fat, the life of a paramilitary space outlaw not precisely being conducive to regular quality meals. My ring scan shows me that there are minor scars across her body, from injuries that would have been simple to fix by most local standards. The Omega Men have to ration their medical apparatus. She's also put on more muscle, in a ropey marathon runner sort of way. I also feel the tug of very weak arcane probes coming from her as she tries to work out what the heck I am.

"You get what you grab. You keep what you can hold on to… Or at least, that you can convince others that you could hold onto if they chose to question the matter. I am the natural son of Darkseid, and as far as I know the youngest he's acknowledged. Since Father is ageless and immensely powerful, there is no point to having a formal line of succession. Politically, we have whatever power we are gifted by him; that is to say, essentially none."

The orange-haired man sitting at her right raises his eyebrows slightly. "You don't seem to be doing too badly?"

Sir Pren is wearing a slightly battered but well maintained suit of black and silver light armour, a suit he probably brought with him when he left Euphorix. He sent a brief mental probe my way when he first arrived. Quashing it presented no difficulty; he's far weaker than Chester or Lynne.

"We're not on Apokolips. Heck, I left so that I would get opportunities like this that I couldn't at home."

Admiral Oswin seems slightly pensive. "So you don't actually hold any sort of title at all?"

I shake my head. "None of us do. My eldest brother, Kalibak, Father's son by his first wife, has no title. Father's second son Orion, by his second wife Tigra, similarly has no title. My foster-brother Scott, no title. Father's chief aide DeSaad, no title." I shrug. "I think the only person who still has one is Uncle Drax, whose title 'prince' was granted by my grandmother mostly to irritate Father. But, please." I smile. "Apokolips is a very long way from Vega, and our social customs will have very little impact on events here."

I most sincerely hope.

Admiral Oswin face shrugs. "I.. merely wish to be sure that you have the authority to negotiate. I'm.. not entirely accustomed to.. negotiating with…"

"HahHAHA!" I grin at his discomfort. "You think I'm a Lowlie? Oh, that's marvellous."

Prince Gavyn leans forward slightly, his right hand slightly raised as a signal that the Admiral should back off. "We're simply curious about your affidavits. Have you been given the authority to negotiate for Tamaran?"

I shrug. "The princesses will negotiate for Tamaran. And anyway, what authority does Queen Kalista have?"

"Ah?" Prince Gavyn glances at her while she just frowns. "She's the queen?"

"Yes, but she doesn't rule the planet. Never has. Not that Euphorix played any role in this fight. And I think she and Sir Pren have perhaps ten fighters between them?" I shrug. "I don't really understand why they're included."

Sir Pren's jaw hardens. "We're included because we've been fighting against the Citadel for over a decade. We've fought and bled for a Vega free of their kind."

"Good going. My people have been fighting them for nearly two days." I hold out my left hand and generate a construct of the remains of Citadel Complex. "I think I know which of us has achieved something worth talking about."

"You'll notice that the Citadel's pirate allies were largely destroyed before you arrived?"

"Yes, but that was-." My goodness. "That.. mess on Rashashoon was you? Have you any idea.. how many civilians were caught in the crossfire? And not just in Raggashoon, out in pirate-controlled territory? They were carrying out orbital bombardments on civilian-inhabited areas to kill off other groups." I… "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking 'this is the only way to get rid of the people who have turned Vega into the mess it is today'. Any col-."

"I have a Lantern Corps. It would have taken us two days, maximum, to destroy any group that wasn't prepared to straighten out-."

Admiral Oswin makes a face as if he's just tasted something horribly bitter. "You'd give those animals a pardon?"

"Some, certainly. Any without specific obscenities to their names. At this point-."

"Princess." Queen Kalista turns to Koriand'r. "Are you truly prepared to let this man speak for you?"

Koriand'r scowls. "I am no more impressed by mass civilian deaths than Grayven is. And I will remind you that it was your recruitment of our brother that resulted in the Citadel revenging themselves upon us. I have a most personal understanding of the accidental side effects of your campaign."

I lean back smugly. "And I'm not convinced that Duke Alonzo would be alright with you claiming to speak for Euphorix. He does rather control the government."

"This is irrelevant." That's the first thing Supreme Commander Gaharrugh's said this whole meeting. I was beginning to think that he was either mute or so concerned that the Imperium would withdraw their support that he didn't dare speak up. "Once our enemies are dead you can argue over who speaks for whom." He jabs one of the control buttons on the table's hologram projector, calling up an image of Karna. Force concentrations, areas controlled and areas contested and remaining strongholds. "We haven't won control of Karna yet."

Of course, with Taghurrhu's following amongst younger Karnans his position isn't all that secure either. And depending on how big an impression Michael makes…

I point at the representation of the prison camps. "Why are we doing that? There are millions of Gordanians down there and we've chased off or destroyed all of their starships."

Gaharrugh nods. "What do you suggest?"

"Just disarm them and leave them to their own devices. Your people and mine can defend any Karnan settlements that need it. We can start processing them for resettlement or exile based on clan membership once the fighting is over."

Gaharrugh raises his upper left lip slightly, a mild baring of the teeth to indicate hostility to the idea. "'Exile'? You want to exile the murderers and slavers? My people have been brutalised by these monsters-."

Komand'r rolls her eyes. "Yours are hardly the only people to have suffered under the Gordanians. And while we will be punishing those in controlling positions in the Tearing Bite clan, we have no interest in slaying every member."

Koriand'r nods. "This is not merely about our side winning over the Citadel and its allies. We must make our victory about instituting a civilised state of relations between Vega's peoples. And in some cases that will mean staying our hand, no matter how enraged we are. I refuse to stoop to the Citadel's level."

Gaharrugh looks around, but it doesn't look like any of the others are prepared to vocalise any support they might be feeling. He glowers slightly, then nods. "Anyone not on our hit list can go for now. Next point. I'm getting reports of one of my people employing some sort of grey alien mercenaries-."

"Oh, those are mine. Michael's familiar with hush tube combat, I felt that paving our way with them while I attacked the Citadel made sense."

"'Michael'?"

I generate a construct image of him. "Michael Tawny. I thought a leader who physically resembled a Karnan would fit it better. He's the reason why their fleet was in such disarray when we arrived."

"Fine. I'll trust you to control him." I nod. "Next item. If we're not killing them all, what are we doing about reparations?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

Authority

21st August
18:29 GMT

Ms Mallor looks down at me as I sit cross-legged on the roof of the plain structure built to contain the Orange Central Power Battery. She's one of the political prisoners we liberated from Starlag along with Vril Dox, her exotic abilities putting her on the Dominators' 'to be researched' list.

"I understand that I am not to be included in your tuition session."

"That is correct."

"Why? Do you think that I am incapable of focusing my wants? Or that I would be driven insane as that creature in your cells has been?"

Her desires are a rather harmless mix of loyalty-affirmation with regards to her civilisation and a drive for… Interestingly, not revenge against the Dominion but she definitely wants them pushed back. Talok VIII fell under the Dominion's expanded sphere of influence some time ago, but they only heard about her comparatively recently. She knows that she's the only reason the Dominion bothered threatening her world and that they'd leave it alone once she was in their custody. That's why she surrendered herself rather than try fighting it out or running. Admirable behaviour.

"No."

Unfortunately, it makes her unsuitable for an orange ring. At least at this stage.

"Then why? Dox said that he had given you final refusal on his proposed candidates?"

"He has. But my selection criteria are quite specific." I open my eyes and look up at her. She's wearing a figure hugging blue/black body stocking thing. I didn't realise that look was popular outside of Earth-native superpeople. "Would you like some tea?"

"Tea?"

"It's a drink from my homeworld, made by putting dried leaves-."

"I know what tea is, I just don't understand why you're offering it to me."

"I don't want you to think that I harbour some sort of personal dislike for you. I want this to be a discussion rather than a confrontation. So: I offer you tea."

"Very well…" She hesitates for a moment as I wave my right hand vaguely to my right and bring a teapot and two china cups in the traditional style: white with blue artwork. "Why do you consider me inadequate?"

"I don't. Sugar?"

A mild frown. "No."

"Milk?"

She pulls a face. "I'm an adult. I don't drink milk."

I won't ask about lemon. I create a construct strainer and place it over the first cup, then pick up the teapot and begin pouring.

"You understand that the Orange Lantern Corps we're building is primarily designed to fight the Reach?"

"Yes."

"Orange ring users are unavoidably driven to satisfy their desires. You might well intellectually know that, when evaluated dispassionately, the Reach are worse than the Dominion. But the Dominion matters to you in a personal way which the Reach doesn't." Cup filled adequately, I stop pouring and move the strainer to the second cup. "Whatever you have decided that you should accept, it is the Dominion whom you truly wish to fight. As such, your effectiveness as an Orange Lantern would be impaired in the fights we are actually going to engage in. And that's assuming that you didn't suffer from the mind-altering effects of the orange light, and simply decide to go after the Dominion on your own initiative."

"I'm not so easily distracted." I put the teapot down, disintegrate the tea leaves in the strainer and then dismiss the strainer, and pass her a cup.

"That doesn't help. Forcing yourself to concentrate on something is a green light thing. Do it too much while wearing an orange ring and your ring would turn itself off. Given your other abilities, you might survive losing your environmental shield while in space, but it would significantly reduce your effectiveness."

She inclines her head slightly as she raises the cup to her face and sniffs it. Finding the smell not too repulsive, she tentatively takes a sip just to humour me and then puts the cup straight down again. "I understand that, but I believe that after training with other Lanterns and Darkstars I would come to see them as much as my people as I do other members of my species. And if I were exposed to the Reach's wrongdoings, I would come to loathe them just as much as they do."

I nod. "Quite possibly. That's how I learned to focus the orange light to serve my team mates' needs." I pick up my cup and take a mouthful. I don't actually.. like tea, but as a non-narcotic social tool it is quite useful.

"Then why-?"

I hold up my right hand to stop her, then swallow. "Because I haven't ever taught a proper class before. With Princess Komand'r and Princess Koriand'r I could afford to give them personal attention at all times. Here, I'm going to have to create a training program that others can carry out without my immediate supervision. That significantly magnifies the risk. So I don't want to take anyone who doesn't have the ideal psychological characteristics. In other circumstances, when I have a better idea about what I'm doing, I might consider you. But not for the first batch."

She looks down as she considers my answer, then reluctantly nods. "What other circumstances?"

"When Hinon's had a chance to study what happens when orange power rings interact with someone who has a link to the Shadowlands."

A thin wisp of tenebrous mist manifests around her, parts of her body suddenly looking as if they were drawn in place using a thick black pen. "What do you know of the Shadowlands?"

"That it's the former resting place of the Great Darkness, and is now a source of considerable arcane might as well as being inhabited by some rather disturbing creatures. An acquaintance of mine by the name of Richard Swift draws his power from there as well, and a handful of other individuals have abilities that are sufficiently similar that they may well come from there as well."

"The Great Darkness. That is what your people call the Father of Shadows?"

"It's… Likely that we're talking about the same being."

"When I was younger, I felt its rising. Ever since then, I've been able to control shadows, move them and make them physical. I've never met anyone else who could say the same. Is that how it was on your world?"

"I don't.. know for certain. For most of them the time line is possible. Except the Shade and Simon Culp, who got theirs about a hundred and eight years ago. When the Great Darkness would still have been there." Huh. Hadn't considered that part before. "Which is a little disturbing, now that I think about it. Though it might explain why they're so much more powerful than all of the others."

"They..?"

"But anyway, I hope that you consider staying on anyway. You might get offered a power ring eventually, and even if you don't I'm sure that the Darkstars would love to have someone with your abilities."

"Will you take me with you?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I've never met someone else with my abilities before. When you return to your homeworld, will you take me with you?"

Um. No reason not to, I suppose. "Alright, yes. Though I'll warn you now that I don't know how long it will be until that happens." She nods. "Is there anything else you want to ask?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st August
19:13 GMT

I smile at the purple-robed figure making his way slowly towards me down the corridor. "Are you all going to do this?"

The green tendrils poking out of his hood retract as he gets within convenient talking distance, his movement forward changing from a steady flow to the jerkier movements of a legged humanoid. He raises his arms, then uses the now brown-orange skinned hands poking out to push back his hood and reveal his face. I'm going to assume that this is the face he uses when dealing with humanoids who set store by such things as facial expression.

"Are all of us going to do what?"

"Ask me why I didn't select you for an orange ring?"

"I had not intended to. Though if you would like to furnish me with a reason..?"

"Dox trusts you. He needs you at your most mentally stable, because you're the only one of us who knows him well enough to know if he's becoming unstable. Your ability to perform that role would be significantly impeded if you put on a ring yourself."

"A perfectly sensible reason. I'm.. not familiar with your species."

"And I'm happy to take your word on that."

"I said that in an attempt to encourage you to tell me about them, but now I'm curious. Why did you respond like that?"

"I don't hold the crimes of a group against their entire species. My homeworld has been visited by Durlans in the past and as far as we've been able to tell a few are still there. The.. Human government that's mostly been dealing with their attacks showed me a few pictures of what happens when a Durlan infiltrator sets off a metamorphic bomb in a small town on market day… It gave a.. particularly bad impression."

"Metamorphic weapons? Are you certain?"

I generate a construct image of the results, melting corpses dissolving into soup while others show clear signs of partial transmutation. "The only survivor has skin made of iron plates, so, yes."

"That.. surprises me. Durla is not a technologically sophisticated world. I was abducted by Coluan robots and I had assumed that I was the only member of my species currently alive to have ventured off-world."

"They seemed pretty technologically sophisticated." I generate a construct of the Dragonwing. "This ship was captured from them and partially reverse engineered. Are you sure-?"

"Blood of the Ancients." His voice sounds astonished, but his face doesn't change expression. Curious. "No, I… Long ago, our history tells us that we had such technology. Then there was an event we know as the Six Minute War."

"An apocalyptic war."

He nods. "Some of our eldest still retain the memories of the event, passed from one Ancient to the next. I never had access to them, but supposedly our forebears fought one another with total ferocity. They started with nanotech infections such as those you describe and eventually escalated into an all-out fission exchange. Lingering radioactive material and metamorphic weaponry destroyed the civilisation we had at that time, and has prevented us rebuilding ever since. Certainly, none of us possess the technological capacity today."

"Someone does."

"I'm afraid that if you wanted to learn more you would have to travel to Durla and consult the Ancients. Or track down one of the Durlans you say is on your world."

"If tracking them down were simple, they'd have been killed already." Still. Worth mentioning to the Chinese that I can put them in contact with the government of Durla. "Are there other examples of your people's advanced technology around the place?"

"Not to my knowledge. I had hoped to access the Controllers' archives while I am here, but it seems that they have had little interest in the region of space in which my world resides. I would be very interested in any such technology you felt able to share."

"I.. doubt very much that the Chinese would be willing to-"

"Hey, you!"

"-share what they've learned, but I doubt that it will hurt-"

"I'm talking to you!"

"-to ask." I turn around. "Mister Bek, how may I be of service?"

Though -aside from hair only a Saiyan could love- he could easily pass as Human, Mister Bek actually originates from Cairn. He didn't express any interest in going back so I'm assuming that he's here about the induction session that he hasn't been invited to. A little way behind him a tanned… I want to say 'woman', but her medical scans say that her reproductive equipment is variable in configuration and she only has mammaries at the moment due to something the Dominators were feeding her while trying to work out how she works.

"You can give me an orange power ring, is what you can do."

"Mister Bek, what would you do with an orange power ring?"

"Turn Cairn into a decent place to live!"

"Mister Bek, I'm afraid that while I realise that the Dominion deserves a bloody nose-."

"I'm not talking about them. I understand that you can't fight the Reach and the Dominion at the same time-."

"Actually, we don't even have the equipment to fight the Reach on its own at the moment. Dox is working on scaling up-."

He shakes his head and waves his hands. "Fine, I'm not interested in that. One man with a power ring could easily decapitate the syndicates of Cairn and start turning it back into a civilised world. It wouldn't be easy and the Dominion aren't going anywhere, but life could be made a lot better by a Lantern."

Sounds plausible. "Mister Bek, we're focusing our resources on getting Lanterns available to fight the Reach at the moment. If you'd like to write up a detailed proposal for the post-coup political and economic models you'd use to transform Cairn's society, I promise you that I'll give the plan due consideration. I hope to be able to widen the variety of people who we can give rings to but at the moment it's just not practical."

"Alright." He nods, appearing to calm down a bit. "That's reasonable. But why didn't you say that when I got here?"

"Because Koriand'r brought you here at Dox's request and I.. rather assumed that he was dealing with you."

He smiles faintly. "What, you gave Dox access to all the information he could want and you thought he'd do something other than go through it as fast as he could?"

Ah. "Then, I apologise for my oversight. Do you need anything from me now?"

"No, the Darkstars are giving us access to their offices." He nods again and turns away. "I'll get started on that proposal."

"I'll look forward to receiving it." He heads back down the corridor, his companion remaining where she is. "Do you want a ring as well?"

"No. I'm already booked in for my Darkstar induction."

"Did Dox-?"

"I got tired of waiting for him. I was coming to check that he was still alive in there."

I look at the Durlan, who shrugs.

"Let's find out together."

 

[Mr Zoat]

21st August
19:19 GMT

"Dox..?" I step over the threshold of his quarters somewhat cautiously, the Durlan just behind me. "Are you decent?"

Dox finally settled on somewhere to live while I was away meeting up with Lantern Mother of Mercy. Space.. isn't exactly at a premium on Maltus. The planet's population is around ten billion, but Clickers like living in close proximity to one another. And preferably underground. Plus, Maltus is pretty close to post-scarcity. As a result, there isn't the accommodation squeeze that there is in the centre of large cities on Earth. Quarters can be more or less whatever size you want, if you can find someone to build it. And if you've got a Controller or a power ring on hand, that requirement can be bypassed fairly easily.

I was slightly curious as to what Dox's quarters would be like. My first guess was something like one of those Japanese pod-things. With some sort of teleportation system for food and waste materials. Coluans usually eat relatively normal food rather than the nutribars usually associated with logic-focused high-IQ species, but Dox himself wasn't allowed anything remotely resembling normal amenities growing up and I thought that he might value the pure efficiency of the system.

Turns out that I was completely wrong. He's gone for an open plan living/dining area that's almost offensively normal. Rugs and synthetic wood cover the floor, there's a holopit slightly off from the centre of the room and portraits of some people who are probably quite famous on Colu but who I've never heard of at intervals on the far wall. Bookshelves line the walls near the comfy chairs on one side… Books? Wasn't expecting that at all. There's even… Is that music?

"The chance of him being indecent is exceedingly small."

I take a few small steps inside, still taking the place in. "That was really more intended to be an audible indicator that we were here rather than a suggestion that he put clothes on." I stop walking and frown at him. "Does this place seem like him to you?"

"A shell of normalcy which he uses to conceal himself but does not himself inhabit? Yes."

Ah. Yes, that sounds more like what I'd expected.

"Sorry, with one thing and another I never thought to ask you your name."

"I am not wholly averse to being called 'Brand'."

"W-? Oh, do Durlans use non-sonic personal identifiers or something?"

"There is a certain scent component. But the humanoid vocal system I have become accustomed to using makes it difficult to pronounce the sonic components. And Brand is close enough."

"As you wish."

So where's Dox hiding? He could have teleported out, but it's not like we're keeping him prisoner here. If he wanted to leave he could just ask for a lift, I'm reasonably sure that one of the Controllers would have reacted if he built an interstellar teleporter. I could scan for him, but that does seem to be somewhat rude. The kitchen comes off the dining area and I can see that he isn't there. Bathroom's through there, which just leaves…

"Dox, I wasn't joking! If you're.. occupied, just say so!"

Mister Brand walks past me and reaches out to take hold of the bedroom door. There's a slight fuzz in the air as a security field detects him and decides not to incinerate him just yet. He ignores it and reaches for the door handle, taking a firm grip on the lever and waiting for a moment as the mechanisms contained therein perform another round of checks. No.. similar device exists on any other opening in the apartment. Rather lends credence to Mister Brand's assumption.

"Vril, are you-? Ah."

Mister Brand steps aside to allow me to enter. Ah, yes this is more like it. Vril himself is strapped to some sort of chair/bed thing, apparently unaware of the world around him. The device strapped to his forehead-. Ah, a Coluan electro-telepathy transmitter. He's having the computer feed data directly into his brain. Reasonably predictaoh come on!

His power rings, both the second hand Larfleeze model I gave him after we first met and Hinon's first new generation model are sitting entirely unused on a workbench surrounded by analytical devices. Quite a bit more complex than what the Controllers use; they can do most of that sort of thing with their own innate abilities. His personal lantern is a little further along, also unused. Okay, I can understand him being reluctant to use them but I'd have thought that he'd have-.

"What is it?"

Dox's eyes sort of flicker as the lights on his headband twinkle and fade.

"Nearly time for our first training session."

He frowns slightly, then the bonds around his wrists unfasten and he reaches up with his right hand to remove the headband. "And you felt the need to inform me in person because..?"

"The psychological wellbeing of members of the Corps is my responsibility."

"I don't require your assist-" Mister Brand moves around behind him to check his equipment. "-ance. I have a great deal of data to absorb and a finite amount of time in which to do it. If there is nothing else..?"

"Clarissi Dox. I felt that you might like to participate in the first training session. While I realise that you can absorb new information far faster than the rest of us can, the psychological effects of orange light use are something-."

"Something that might lead to me baking a giant cake?"

I tilt my head back slightly to look at the ceiling. One time! "It might help to learn how your own thoughts are likely to be altered in a safe location before using it in the field."

He swivels where he's sitting, then reaches down to pull his boots on. Not looking at me. "Are you telling me that I am obliged to?"

"No. Though I would advise you to avoid using them at all unless you get some training from me. If you don't want to take part in the same session as the rest of the new intake -and for team building purposes I really think that you should- then we can do it in private later. Or…" I spread out my hands. "Not at all. You're still the best person for the job, even without a ring of your own."

Both boots on, he looks up at me. "Your own reports indicated dozens of times when your judgement was compromised by your use of-."

Mister Brand looks up from the device. "And you think that using this device with a data input rate eight times higher than normal will not produce similar results?"

Dox's face twitches. "I've used higher rates before, and for longer. The Coluan 'average' is well below what is safe for me."

Time to use the orange light…

"Remind me: are you a perfect clone of Vril Dox the First, or did he make any changes?"

He glowers at me. "If you're asking that question then you clearly know the answer. I am genetically identical. However, he altered the conditions in which I gestated to produce… Suboptimal results. I was less intelligent than he was while he was still an organic Coluan. Still far more intelligent than everyone else, and more than up to the task I have here."

"Where I'm from… There's a certain… Physicality, expected of, uh… 'Freelance law enforcement officials'. Pretty much the first thing I did with my ring -and entirely without specific intent- was turn myself from a slightly pudgy office worker into an Adonis. I think… It's hard for me to tell, but I think I've become more mentally acute as well. Certainly, my memory is eidetic now."

Dox gets it. From his expression I think that he got it as soon as I started speaking, though he generously gave me the courtesy of allowing me to finish.

"I could alter myself."

"It's more that the ring would unavoidably alter you to better reflect your idealised self-concept." I smile, raise my eyebrows slightly and then look away. "I'm assuming that you know quite a lot about Coluan physiology..?"

His body stills and his eyes unfocus slightly, pupils microsaccading as he considers the matter, then gets up and walks towards the rings-.

"Ah ah." I open both hands and call his rings to me. That earns me a scowl. "There's a tradition to it. Everyone I've given rings to gets the same treatment. It might not seem important to you-."

"Just get on with it."

"Very well." I hold out my hands palms up with a ring on each. "Vril Dox of Colu, you want to establish a just order in an unjust and disorderly universe. And I want you for the Orange Lantern Corps. Take my rings."