Last Daughter of Krypton: Legion IC

Green Lantern

It is said that in space, no-one can hear you scream.

This is true, more often than not.

But by the same token, in space, it is possible to hear oneself think.

Stones spun endlessly through the vacuum, great chunks of terrestrial detritus now utterly, unfortunately, devoid of life. This was an asteroid belt, and it engirdled its solar system, ever-shifting, ever rising and ever falling.

Once, this asteroid belt had been a living planet, in more ways than one. This had been Mogo, a legend of The Green Lantern Corps.

This had once been Elizabeth's partner.

And now she sat upon the stones of him, the spinning stones of him, sitting in the Lotus position of ancient Earth, and she meditated. She meditated there in the manner of a sage meditating upon the gravesite shrine of an honoured ancestor.

And she could hear herself think.

Her Power Ring gleamed in the night, a molten-plasma aura of green crawling around her skin, providing oxygen, keeping in her body heat, deflecting micro-meteoroids created by the endlessly-clashing asteroids.

Her eyes were closed, and her long dark hair floated in the microgravity of The Mogo Belt.

She wore her Green Lantern uniform, though she wore no mask upon her face.

Eschewing the optional mask, Elizabeth instead chose when active as Lantern to veil her eyes with a shadowy, inky black, honouring her father's legacy. It made her troublesome to behold for certain races with an irrational fear of the dark, but black was a standard colour in The Corps' raiment and this did not violate dress code.

But those eyes now were closed.

And she was listening to herself think.

Until, inevitably--

'Elizabeth Kara Greystone, Green Lantern of Sector 2261 and its vicinity.'

She opened one of those eyes.

And there, hovering before her, diminutive, barely the height of her head, was a projection of one of the ancient Guardians of The Universe. A glowing green hologram sent direct to her Ring from the direct centre of known space.

She quirked an eyebrow, and opened her other eye.

"Online," she replied, crisply. "How may I be of service?"

Emotionless and wholly logical, it was rare for one of the Oan people to have a facial expression of any kind. But this one looked... uncomfortable.

'You are native to Sector 2814,' this Guardian suggested.

"That was a long time ago," Elizabeth confirmed, "relatively speaking. But yes."

The Guardian steepled his fingers, and he appeared to digest this.

'You know that we are not what once we were, as a Corps,' he admitted, reluctant. 'Rings are few in number, and despite the assistance of your erstwhile grandfather in establishing an artificial singularity as an alternate gravitational guidepost, the loss of your esteemed partner has rather hampered our ability to select new Lanterns from those in this Universe without fear. The Book of Oa, too, is tattered.'

"Days are dark," Elizabeth nodded, slowly, wondering where this was headed. "But they are not at their darkest."

'Hm,' the Guardian mused. 'Perhaps. But the darkness of days too is relative. And it seems that darker days indeed are coming. Perhaps not as black as The Blackest Night. Instead, a Darkest of Days.'

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow, but her face was inscrutable. "What need have you of me, in the face of this?"

'It is perhaps time again to establish a Lantern on Earth,' the Guardian declared, 'of Sector 2814. There is a gentleman working at The Time Institute in Metropolis in the region once called Kansas. His name is Rond Vidar. Approach him regarding Lanternship. If he is not found wanting, if he is capable of overcoming fear... signal us, and we will use that signal to direct to Vidar one of our reserve Rings of Power.'

Elizabeth straightened, stood up and firm, her left Ring hand held before her, and the hologram adjusted itself instantly to remain at her eye level.

"I know that personal gain from the use of our Rings is strictly prohibited," Elizabeth suggested, choosing her words carefully. "However, as Metropolis and its outlying regions are... of historical sentimental value to my family..."

The Guardian grunted dismissively, distastefully. 'This request is neither unanticipated nor unprecedented from you, Elizabeth Greystone. Very well. You may sightsee. But do not tarry overlong.'

Elizabeth nodded her firm assent. "No evil shall escape my sight."

'Indubitably,' the Guardian intoned, and then the projection vanished.

Elizabeth pointed her Ring hand aloft, and soared away in a streak of billowing jade energies...

"Another time, partner," she murmured behind her to the resting place of Mogo. "It was good to... socialise."

And then the green light propelled her faster than photons, and galactic distances became a matter of hours rather than a matter of lifetimes.

Ultra Girl, Smallville. Dawny, approaching GL sector 2814.

"Oh it's no problem hun, I'll carry him if I have to. Might not be the most fun ride, but if I have to I'll carry him." Jo said watching the stranger closely.

Jo wanted this to turn into a fraggin rumble in the worst way. It wasn't as good as an old fashioned tumble in the bunk but it was close. Oh so very close. Before she could say anything else the Sci Cops made thier appearance.

"Guess the Luxuryline's here to take us home. Not real fond of the chaperones but they do the job." she said with her usual sense of humor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dawnstar was on approach to Centramain U.P. space when she felt what she knew shouldn't be in this space system. There were certain things she always had an immediate "feel" out for and that energy signature was one of them. Mister Brande had been very specific in his desire to know of them.

The woman diverted from her course setting herself into an intercept course. She began matching speeds. Once in range with the aid of the telepathic plug she said to the Lantern "Lantern, you are in violation of U.P. law. Slow to a stop, I would have words with you. I have no intention of harm."

Mister Brande was paying for this sort of clandestine service of her so she would do her utmost to follow her employer's wishes. It wasn't personal for her. It never was, it was just business.

incoming

The gathering chanted, watching as the young knight, barely old enough to be a knight in fact, was marked with sigils arcane. Dark powers gathered, coalescing into a dagger, an athame that was used to slice the knight from soft curls to breastbone.

Her screams of pain were nothing compared to the pain ripping through every fibre of her soul. And into that gapping bloody hole a gloved hand dipped. Slipping a silver denarii coin into her flesh.

***

Eons passed.

Eternity.

Blade and claw were joined in battle. Fang met armored fist. Heaven and hell raged in anger and hatred. Earth and air were sundered as acid rain fell upon the two foes as they fought for dominance of the body.

***

The Cabalists chanted, encouraging the demon to gain control. Their worship of the hell spawn providing strength and power.

***

Flaming fists of hellfire smashed already broken nose and jaw. Grinding the bone and cartilage into dust. Clawed hands ripped the armour from the Paladin’s form. Baring all her flesh. And with a snarl the demon mounted her, ripping the last shred of decency from her.

The dagger, slipped down between it’s shoulders, separating hellish flesh from bone as it drove down. Tickling the demon heart.

“I win.. bitch..” the Paladin whispered, blood spiting from her lips.

With a twist the blade sliced through the demons heart.

***

Rolling from the table as flames ripped along her skin the Knight twisted, the blade lifting from the stone block beside her, grasped firmly in her hand as she swung.

***

Staggering from the room, the knighted stepped into the sunlight, rain streaming from the heavens. A dozen Cabalists, plus their followers, lay slaughtered in the building behind her. Collapsing to the ground she faded into unconsciousness.

“She’ll do.” One of the beings said to the other.

“Yes, she’ll do very nicely.” The second agreed.

****

Several years later.

Small moon in Tauas 4. Terraformed. falls under the Kingdom of the Isles principality.

Population: 3000 colonist. Mostly human



***

The zombies massed , preparing another attack. The castle walls were breached, the knights outnumbered. They had no hope left. So the Knight Errant in charge did the one thing nobody expected.

The hud display showed her the location of every unit under her command, as well as every zombie, corpse, mutant, servant, and the Demon in charge of the enemy.

With a quick calculation of their odds, she yelled, “TO ME!!!”

And leaped over the castle wall, launching an attack before the enemy was ready to launch their own assault. Her target, the Demon.

As the knight dropped onto the enemy her blade shimmered and ignited.

***

Surveying the damage to the castle, and the village that surrounded it, she paused. She was receiving a transmit from Command.

“Knight Errant Lang. Compliance is required. Transfer to Grid Sector 3815. The orders are from Lord Knight Mandragorian.”

“Orders accepted. Compliance assured.”

***

HALO Jumping. What a way to enter a system. But her transport didn’t have time to do a proper landing. And orders were orders.

The light on the HUD winked from red to Green and she was leaping. The airlocks closing silently behind her. Well the easy part was over. Now all she had to do was survive the landing.

“Terminal velocity reached. Terminal velocity reached. Terminal velocity reached.”

“Silent mode.”

“Terminal vel…”

In silence the Knight sped towards the world below.

“Vocal authority override. Terminal impact eminent. Range two thousand meters.”

“I know..” she said through gritted teeth.

“Fifteen Hundred meters.”

“Shut up already.”

“One Thousand meters.”

Closing her eyes she looked within. And flexed.

The armour ignited, hellfire streaming from hands and feet.

“Five hundred meters. Four Hundred. Three Hundred.”

“Impact in five…..four….three… two…”

The stone structure didn’t even last a microsecond. Four hundred pounds of armour and living flesh impacting at 320 km/h (90 m/s) did have a tendency to destroy things.

The quake wasn’t large, but it was large enough to register on several high level scanners in the world. An unexpected, and completely improbable event.

***


Shaking her head clear of the shaky vision, and blurry sounds the knight stood up she noticed not the stone angel behind her. Or the writings on the shattered structure.

“A Shadow shall fall over the Universe,
And Evil will grow in it’s path.

And Death shall come from the skies.”

Armour glowed from the heat of reentry, and the lingering fire from within. Even as it cooled the silver sheen returned. A high polished shine taking over.

Rotating her neck the knight looked around. “Hmm. I was off by a few meters..”

Moving things along

The Sci Cops landed two cruisers, and after a brief discussion with the two Legionaries the stranger was placed in the back of a cruiser and then taken to Legion Headquarters.




It was all a blur. Meeting what was most likely my decedent, the arrival of the fantastic vehicles, and the ride out of Smallville. Originally I had thought things had not changed much, then we breached the dome separating Historical Smallville from the megalopolis that was 31st century Metropolis, and my breath left me.

Everywhere I looked were crystal towers reaching to the clouds. Flying vehicles of all shapes and sizes surrounded us, and everything was awash in color and lights and sounds.


All too soon we dropped down onto the landing pad of a building that was almost familiar. Like it was modeled after the first home of the Justice League.

I stepped out of the car and turned to the ladies.

"Well this is impressive. It's like the original hall, but still different. I'm ready to go in when you are."

Ultra Girl

The trip back from Smallville had gone quietly. Never a good thing for Jo, but lately it had been even worse. Jo handled quiet like Brainy handled not knowing something. She'd always been hyperkinetic. But ever since Tinya, she'd been even worse. If she wasn't hyper she moped.

The S.P.'s dropped them off and Jo wandered away from Val and the Squaj. "I'll be in the gym." was all she said as she sort of aimlessly wandered away from those waiting for the newcomer. Hell, M'onel could handle it if things got out of hand.

Green Lantern

Emerald light coursed out behind her in a contrail that spanned interstellar gulfs.

Her right arm tucked back, she held the left hand, the hand with the Ring, thrust ahead of her, gleaming her identity and her light into the trackless night.

Well. Trackless for most. But not all.

Synching with her velocity came a winged humanoid of browned, ruddy skin and hair darker perhaps even than Elizabeth's. Her pinions spread at 7 metres, and she was beautiful.

Liz' dark eyes widened ever so slightly. And then the ghost of a smile dusted upon the fringes of her lips.

Ah, yes. That was quick.

Not that I should be surprised, after all. If I'm not mistaken, this is their pathfinder. Their manhuntress, so to speak.

(Though I could be mistaken. My dealings with The Legion have not been... frequent.)

Once in range with the aid of the telepathic plug she said to the Lantern "Lantern, you are in violation of U.P. law. Slow to a stop, I would have words with you. I have no intention of harm."

Liz' eyebrow quirked slightly. The artificial telepathy always felt so... odd.

But it was better than hand-signals, that was for certain.

She considered her options.

She could put on a burst of speed, attempt to lose this Legionnaire in a nebula or somesuch. Really test the tracker's ability. And then go to Earth and carry out her task anyway.

She could also withdraw. After all, The Guardians had obviously not intended for Liz to cause an interstellar incident...

But then again?

Liz glanced down at her Ring. And then across at the Ring that the beautiful manhuntress wore.

...one good Ring, it would seem, deserves another.

After all, how could one quibble with the jurisdiction of a Lantern who was also a member of The Legion?

Unprecedented, certainly. But when Liz had been a small girl in the dawning days of The Twenty-First Century, she remembered her father and mother working with a man named Nathaniel, who had been both a military Captain and a member of The League.

Such a thing could conceivably happen again in a modern context. And only one man in all The Cosmos had the authority over The Legion and the influence with The U.P. President to maybe make such an eventuality possible.

To induct this Rond Vidar, if suitable, into The Legion as well as The Corps.

She ran her tongue over her teeth, and nodded after all this went through her head in the space of a trio of heartbeats.

Flying onward, she met Dawnstar's gaze and raised her hands in a traditional gesture of surrender.

"You'll have to forgive me," she suggested, "but I'm unfamiliar with your standard operating procedure in this sort of situation. Gray areas..."

Tiny, tiny ever-so-distant smile. "Would it be out of the question for you to be the legally-empowered escort for a foreign peace officer seeking audience with Rene Jacques Brande?"

Her dark eyes flickered darker for a moment. Her expression and voice were utterly deadpan, but oh, there were subtle traces of humour there: "Succinctly: 'I come in peace. Take me to your leader.'"

Brainiac 5

Abraxas Winterlight said:

"Actually, it's good that you are here. This may intrest you. Pull up the data from sector 2034.75 from 0457-0509. tell me what you think."

This was shaping up to be a interesting day.

Click to expand...

Brainiac Five was halfway back out the door when Cosmic Boy called him back.

He stopped, stock-still, for just a moment, his spine as stiff as intertron.

He coughed, and cleared his throat, and attempted to rearrange his countenance into an expression far less of reluctance and more of... helpfulness.

Garth had joked, more than once, that there was a lighthearted fellow lurking somewhere beneath Querl's green-skinned surface. They just had to get him laid.

As if Querl had time for that sort of dalliance. Really.

So they would just have to stomach the unlaid cold cerebral fellow for now, and be satisfied merely with glimpses of a friendlier creature.

He sighed, long and hard and dismal, and moved back into the room properly, approaching the monitor bank and squinting disinterestedly at the image which Rokk had indicated.

...he pursed his lips. "Hm."

He caressed the control surface, and the display isolated and ballooned that particular grid-block...

He grimaced, and his shoulders slumped, eyes first on the particle-flux sampling as opposed to the visual readout.

"Oh, grife," he seethed. "Magic. It would be."

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, scrunching his eyes shut. "Magic is to The Thirty-First Century as gravity is to The Twenty-First. We can identify magic via its effect on its environs, but we have thus far failed even to discern an elementary particle for its forces."

Gesturing, he muttered on, his mouth on autopilot lecture mode: "The going theory is a drastic alteration of multiversal superpositioning utilising quantum energies harnessed by esoteric mental discipline, essentially collapsing and consolidating infinite improbables and making them possible by manipulating the fundamental forces of The Universe and thereby creating thermodynamic miracles at will."

"Schrödinger giveth, and Schrödinger taketh away," Brainiac Five harrumphed. "Playing hyperstrings like a lyre. I hardly approve."

He glanced at the image of the man in the surveillance and he... hesitated.

He frowned. His left eyebrow twitched.

He remembered... something. Something... old. Something... ancestral.

It made his intestines feel strange. A gut sensation. Ridiculous.

He shook his head, and fixed his gaze on Cosmic Boy, tried to put the sensation out of his mind.

"Can I assume this relates to your borderline obsession with the archival holographics?"

Monitor Room. Legion HQ

"You can. If my guess is right.." (At that moment Saturn Girl walked in, giving Rokk a glare, then moved over to a empty station and sat down, watching what was going on) "this may very well be one of the founding members of the twenty first century Justice League. Actually he predates the league. If I am right he is some sort of intra-dimensional warlord who fell in love with the original Valkyrie M and stayed on Earth. Supposedly he can only die by being shot with a blessed crossbow bolt through the heart."

Rokk turned back to the monitor, and watched them speed away in the SP cruiser.

"He should be here in a few clicks. The scanners at the door should offer some interesting data."

"Then why am I here Cos?" said the yawning blond.

"You, my telepathic friend, are going to just barely reach out and try and scan him. I mean featherlight touch. One thing in the archives is that he's immune to telepaths. Has some sort of shield that shocks them, so I want you to be super careful. If you hit that shield, he's for real. Your call though, I'm not sure how accurate the archives are, and it might be dangerous."


Saturn Girl looked pointedly at Rokk. "Lets see what the scanners say first."

VM3: "Star of Bethlehem."

Jo and Jaymie flew with the S.P.'s as Jaymie's ersatz ancestor idled in the backseat of one of the flying cruisers.

Things were quiet.

And Jaymie knew Jo didn't like quiet, but so help her The Universe she was absolutely flummoxed as to what she might say.

'So, how about that, uh, local sports team?'

'Braal has a sport. D'they have any good sports on Rimbor?'

'Or, uh, music. I dig music. There's this quartet of Durlan woodwinds and I just got the new--'

But all her small-talk perished on her lips. There wasn't one word of it that sounded the slightest bit sprocking viable.

So instead she bit her lip and flew, adding more than a little bit of pyrokinetic thrust to make sure she could keep up with Ultra Speed and with the top-of-the-line Sci-Cop cruisers.

And every so often she'd glance across at the man in that backseat.

Whomever he was.

She didn't dig that he had ruled out telepaths in his vetting process. That seemed like a telltale warning sign, no doubt. Put him in a room with a Titanian of any appreciable mental strength, Imra "Saturn Girl" Ardeen most especially, and there's no way he'd keep his secrets long.

But apparently that wasn't an option.

It seemed like they'd have to use an old-fashioned polygraph or something. If only they'd had a magic rope that could make people tell the truth...

...but no, but no, that sort of thing was just in fairy stories.

Engines whined and her fire flickered out and they landed.

They landed at the base of the massive building, visible from the upper atmosphere, shaped like an "L."

And, left off by the Science Police, the man called Wraith had a look on his face like he'd just stumbled across God's front doorstep, and the whole time He'd been his next door neighbour.

It was a little bit frightening and more than a little endearing.

So few people in this day and age still had a sense of wonder. But it seemed that this flungforward had wonder in spades.

"Well this is impressive. It's like the original hall, but still different. I'm ready to go in when you are."

Jaymie opened her mouth to reply, but then Jo was dragging her feet and heading off and away and oh that made Jaymie's stomach clench. Yeah. Quiet not so good for the rumbler, maybe Jaymie shouldn't have called her out to The 'Ville.

"I'll be in the gym." was all she said as she sort of aimlessly wandered away from those waiting for the newcomer.

Jaymie nodded glumly. "Yeah. 'Kay."

(Well, that's just nass.)

But she shook her head, and kept her attention on the task at hand.

She triggered the omnicom in her Ring... "Hey," she faltered for a moment, trying to figure out where would be the best place to find someone, well, duh, sprock, obvious: "Monitor room? Any chance we can get a welcoming committee prepped for an, uh, unidentified post-human of apparent telepathic resistance and dubious era of origin?"

Monitor Room

"Bring him into the west confrence room. Me, Saturn Girl and Brainy will meet you there."

Rokk stopped a second, then turned to Brainiac 5 "Unless you have something you would rather do Querl."

B5 / VM3: "The Machine."

"Bring him into the west confrence room. Me, Saturn Girl and Brainy will meet you there."

Rokk stopped a second, then turned to Brainiac 5 "Unless you have something you would rather do Querl."

Brainiac, with considerable concerted effort, managed to not pop an artery.

"Certainly not, Mister Krinn," he smiled thinly. "Far be it from me to exclude myself from investigations of such... magnitude."

And he gestured magnanimously in a westerly direction. "Shall we abscond, then?"


Jaymie hesitated.

She glanced at the west end of the building.

"'West,' he says," she mumbled. "How many conference rooms d'we have at the west end of a building that size? I might as well throw a dart at a globe."

She pursed her lips. "Well. Maybe we just head west, and when we get closer I'll just use the Ring-locators to narrow it down... (yeah, that's a plan, that'll... that'll work)."

Jaymie glanced at Wraith, and squared her shoulders. "Mister Greystone? Follow me, sir, if you would."

And she led him up the sloping front steps of the gods-next-door.

As the plexitanium doors irised open for them, they moved into a foyer the size of the twentieth-century Astrodome, up and up and up and up...

And in the centre of the floor, titanic in scale, were statues three.

They were holding up a planet that looked suspiciously like Earth, each lending a hand to the support of it.

The Icon. The Amazon. And The Detective.

Supergirl. Wonder Woman. And Batman.

The Trinity. Other heroes had gone before, other heroes had come after. Even their names had been used and inherited over and over and over again, all of them striving to prove worthy.

But no-one had defined the term "legend" like these here three. Especially the woman in the middle, with the Kryptonian "S"-glyph on her chest, her cape forever poised in a dramatic breeze.

This was Her.

And to look upon Her, even Her likeness, sent a silvery chill up Jaymie Greystone's spine.

Down around the feet of them, visibly shorter, were statues of their fellow Leaguers, the few that had been pieced together from the damaged files of yestercentury. There was a Doctor Midnight, and a Green Lantern, and an Atom... there were lesser known figures, an unmasked man in fire and force with a cigarette between his lips, a cybernetic organism half handsome gent half mechanoid, she knew few of their names. One of these known only to Jaymie because of her family connection, the original Valkyrie Missile... and then, holding her hand, a ghostly garbled figure, no-one knew what his name was but Cos had tentatively identified him as "Ruin."

Except that Jaymie didn't think that Ruin was a good guy, was a Leaguer...

...she glanced at Kyle. And she blinked. And she looked again at the mysterious figure.

Not "Ruin" but "Wraith?"

Down lower, around the ankles of the second rank, was a third rank of statues about the size of halflings. These she knew not by name, though she identified with them in spirit. The man with goggles and the jacket and the "A" on his chest, she thought of him as a good friend. The two ladies standing hand in hand, wreathed in fire and ice, she looked at these as kin. There was a Metamorphae, there was a Marvel, there was a Ray, she recognised their iconography without knowing their individual codenames. There was a scarred man in a cowboy hat, looking grim.

Lost Legends. Old Souls. Good Soldiers.

Before there was Legion, there was The League.

It suddenly occured to Jaymie that she should say something profound.

She hesitated, and smiled softly at Mister Greystone.

"'Welcome,'" she intoned, "'to the world of tomorrow.'"

She gestured in a westerly fashion. "The Great Glass Elevator is this way."

Brande New

He followed the others, discreetly mumbling to himself an algorithym that seemed to make no sense.

At least it didn't to them. It wouldn't, unless the BRAIN InterActive Construct Version 5.0 really listened. Brainiac 5 perhaps, maybe, could decipher the locations and resonating frequencies of the ancient Crystal of El. But this didn't matter, really, because it was only a memory of one of the many that J'onn Jonzz, or R. J. Brande, carried inside him of the creature called Wraith.

"His name is Wraith," Brande said to Brainiac and Rokk as he walked behind them. "He was one of the original team members from the League of Justice. He fought alongside Kara Zor-El, Diana of Themyscira, the Batman, the Martian Manhunter, and others."

"He was, and is, a most powerful being."

Brande got quiet then, as was his way, saying nothing more until they arrived at the Conference Room.

But his thoughts were busy indeed. Would Wraith know him? No, he shouldn't, unless J'onn probed him psychicly, which the Martian Manhunter knew better than to do. The resulting psionic defense from Wraith would likely cause J'onn to turn to a puddle of green goo, and that would just not do. Especially not in front of the League.

How would he explain his years of hiding after the battle with Darkseid? He wouldn't need to. No, he wouldn't. Wraith was his friend, his trusted friend, and Wraith would understand J'onn's unwillingness to expose himself to possible enemies that would, in turn, place Earth and other star systems in danger.

What would the League do if they found out that the Martian Manhunter had been in their midsts all along? Guiding them towards an inevitable destiny? Watching over them?

J'onn was afraid the answers to these questions was soon coming.

Lar "M'onel" Gand

He had been free for a few months now. They'd given him a home and a life and they'd given him Daxam history lessons and they'd let him keep the name Raya'd given him from Mars.

He was not yet as strong as he could be.

But he was working on it.

The timelessness of The Phantom Zone was a strange thing. Perhaps if he'd been intact when he'd gone in and intact when he'd come out, he'd be in perfect working order already. But that pesky lead poisioning...

He was immune to lead, now. Mostly.

Brainy had told him that a high-level dose of lead would still kill him.

So no catching ancient-fashioned bullets in his teeth, that made sense.

And he required injections of the serum on a fairly regular basis.

But the yellow light of Sol was restoring him slowly, slowly, slowly. He was so strong now, stronger than he'd ever been, nearly as strong as Caroline, maybe slightly stronger than Ultra Girl.

And he was working on getting stronger.

Hence, the gym.

"Grrhnh... hmmnh..."

The envirodjusters were set to "Saharan." The sunlamps blazed yellow sunlight into the room as he struggled, struggled...

"H'h. H'h. Sprrrckkk..."

A massive variable-gravity metalloid block sat atop him, the grav-boosters similarly cranked to their maximum. Jupiter's g-forces were tame compared to the strain that was being asked of his humanoid frame...

"Hrrrnnh."

Sweat rolled down his face. Tons of weight and tonnes of mass bore down on him, his hands were trembling, his back was creaking, his muscles and tendons stood out within his flesh...

...he sank to one knee.

*Physical exertion presets reached.*

"Nnnnoohh," he wheezed. "Not yet. Not yet. Need to get... better."

He exhaled hard, puffing droplets of sweat out into the air.

He could feel black crawling in around the edges of his eyes, he could feel that he was going to hit the wall and he might not make it through the other side but this was it, this was it, all there was in The Universe was this...

*Shutdown imminent.*

"Wait," he mumbled, "wait."

...but he heard the switches click and heard the buzz of the auto-lockout, and the weight was gone from his shoulders.

He staggered, he almost launched himself skyward with the unbending of his legs, managed to stop himself from going through the gym ceiling...

Now grav-neutral, the metalloid block hovered above his head.

And he grimaced at it, holding his side.

"Premature deactivation," he lamented, unable even now to keep his roguish wit in check. "Happens to the best of us, I suppose."

Liz' eyebrow quirked slightly.

She ran her tongue over her teeth, and nodded after all this went through her head in the space of a trio of heartbeats.

Flying onward, she met Dawnstar's gaze and raised her hands in a traditional gesture of surrender.

"You'll have to forgive me," she suggested, "but I'm unfamiliar with your standard operating procedure in this sort of situation. Gray areas..."

Tiny, tiny ever-so-distant smile. "Would it be out of the question for you to be the legally-empowered escort for a foreign peace officer seeking audience with Rene Jacques Brande?"

Her dark eyes flickered darker for a moment. Her expression and voice were utterly deadpan, but oh, there were subtle traces of humour there: "Succinctly: 'I come in peace. Take me to your leader.'"

Matching eyebrow quirk for eyebrow quirk Dawnstar smiled, "I was thinking just that Lantern. It is prudent that I get you to Mr. Brande, he has made sure I would be able to get one of your kind to him if I were to meet any."

The winged Apache reached down into her boot and pulled out a small device. She attuned it and sent a signal to the device that matched it in the possesion of R.J. Brande. It was in his hands how this went next.

"We will procceed once we know the coordinates he wishes me to bring you to. You understand the need for this to be as subtle as possible I hope."

Wildfire was shocked as he and Fate closed on the coordinates that they had received. This wasn't exactly the type of mission that Wildfire was normally recommended for. Truth be told, he was a bit of a loose cannon. He knew this.... he reveled in this.

Wildfire thought over the data he had received earlier. This shuttle, The Crimson Cutlass, they had called it, was a pirating vessel. It had been involved in more than twenty interstellar acts of piracy. Everywhere from Earth to Durla. They were using some for of unknown energy weapon to disable ships, then boarding them, slaughtering the crew and passengers and stealing anything of value. Hence, they sent the guy would was able to not only absorb energy, but was energy. Wildfire slowed and made eye contact with Fate.

"Fate, this is it." Wildfire gestures to the craft before them, still a ways off.

"I am aware. I have scanned for life signs. There twenty three living beings on this vessel. Fourteen are sentient. The rest appear to be various pets and stow aways. How shall we proceed?"

"Well, from what I read, these sprockin' nassclowns have been pretty ruthless. I doubt they are going to come willingly. I am pretty sure we are out of range of any sensor array at the moment though. Any chance you can use the hoodoo the you do to get us right there? Surprise attack might be the best option."

"Hoodoo? Do you take me as some sort of a joke? Hoodoo is for the superstitious and the ignorant. I am a magician. A wielder of eldritch might of the like that you most likely are inequiped to comprehend." From beneath his helmet, Fate was obviously agitated.

"Look I wasn't trying to offend you. I read the term in one of those archive things. When I found out we were going to have a resident magician, I figured that I should bone up. Musta miss understood the file, or it could have been wrong. But lets take this is no time to be sprocked off at each other. Lets go kick some nass."

Fate eyed Wildfire wearily. Then he extended his hand toward the shuttle. In a moment they were in front of the main bridge. Fate reached out with his magic, he forced his way into the heads of the pirate crew.

"We are representatives of the Legion of Superheroes. We have been sent to ensure that you are brought in safely and as with out incident as possible. Surrender now."

There was a soft rumble as the guns charged and were turned on the duo. At once there was a terrible volley unleashed. Fate, slightly off guard, barely evaded the blasts, Wildfire meanwhile began to laugh as he absorbed the blasts.

"Woohoo, that tickles ya sprockin squeaj!"

Fate begins to chant as he weaves between the blasts. There is a terrible creak and groan. Suddenly the shuttle stops firing. Fate stops and extends his hands. Twisting his hands and making a fist Fate calls out words in a language that even the formidable translators of the Legion would be unable to understand. Suddenly the shuttle bends and contorts. Crushed like a tin can by unseen hands. Suddenly there is a huge explosion. Wildfire is sent reeling. Fate meanwhile chuckles.

"You SPROCKING NASSHEAD! You killed them! Legion don't KILL! Wildfire was charging ready to take Fate head on.

Fate only laughed harder.

"Simpleton. I didn't kill anyone. I teleported them. They are sitting in a cell. Safe and sound. However, they will not be able to pirate in the future. At least not without a new ship." Fate puts his hands out in front of him.

Wildfire halts and hovers before Fate.

"You blew up a sprocking ship! I swear, does that bucket you wear on your head make you dense? You can't go blowing up anything you want! Gah! I can't believe ME of ALL people, is standing here giving THIS speech."

"Hmm. It is the apex of irony i suppose. Now, I also read the files. No where did I see any data limiting our means. You and I both know it, they will be back in a few months. They will be back to there crimes and there wicked ways. This way, perhaps they get the message. Besides, a little collateral damage is often unavoidable."

"Fate.... you sprocking confound me. Really. Lets go. I.... I need to get back, before you decide to just detonate me to kill a house fly."

Fate grins under his helmet. A grin very much like his great grandfather's. A grin very much like his uncle's. Fate nods and snaps his fingers. In an instant they are back on Earth, under the familiar glow of the yellow sun.

"Fate to Legion. Myself and Wildfire are back on Earth. If further assistance needed just let us know."

Fate looks at Wildfire. Fate hated working with someone like Wildfire. Even if Fate was not an accomplished magician, reading the attitude and the minds of others was always an easy task. Between the small tells present in everyone, to the actually thoughts that he would occassionally listen in on.Wildfire was different. He had not face, not eyes to betray him. and his mind, well it was hard to read. His brainwaves where unlike most corporeal beings. He was after all living energy.

"Be in my tower. Have a good day." Fate nods once more as he leaves Wildfire standing in the street.

"Why is it that all the magic users are sprocking squeajy nassclowns? Seriously." Wildfire flies toward the Legion hall.

Legion HQ

Instruments went wild once the man who called himself Kyle Greystone walked through the door.

"Woah!! Would you look at that. Readings are almost off the scale. I think Fate has more magical energy, but this is sprocking close."

"DNA Scanner shows he is human, with a mutation. No match on his clothing. Sprock!! He has over thirty six kilograms of gold in that bag. And some gemstones. Mans carrying a fortune. Nothing synthetic on him, and barely any metal. Has a dagger on his belt, metal unknown. If this is a con job, it's a epic one."

"OK everyone, lets go meet Valkyrie and our guest. Daphnie, keep a eye on them at all times and pipe the data to me in the conference room." said Rokk.

"Sure thing Cos. This is so cool."

"I know. It's almost as cool as meeting a member of the Trinity."


They exited the monitor room then, leaving the young woman alone. Shortly thereafter, her com buzzed.

"Fate to Legion. Myself and Wildfire are back on Earth. If further assistance needed just let us know."


Daphnie bit her lip, then made a decision. "Fate, we have a unknown in the Hall going to conference room seven. He has arcane energy readings, I think it would be prudent to have you there. Says his name is Kyle Greystone. Oh, also goes by Wraith."


"'Welcome,'" she intoned, "'to the world of tomorrow.'"

She gestured in a westerly fashion. "The Great Glass Elevator is this way."


Wraith stopped when he saw the monument. He slowly walked around until he got to one figure on the second row, then he walked up, close enough that he could reach out and touch one.

"This was your ancestor. The original Valkyrie M. My wife Rose."

His voice hitched a bit, then he turned to the young woman with wet eyes. "You guys left J'onn off. He should be on there somewhere. Anyway, enough stalling. I am pretty sure I have questions and tests ahead of me. Lets go."

VM3: "The War."

Wraith stopped when he saw the monument. He slowly walked around until he got to one figure on the second row, then he walked up, close enough that he could reach out and touch one.

"This was your ancestor. The original Valkyrie M. My wife Rose."

His voice hitched a bit, then he turned to the young woman with wet eyes. "You guys left J'onn off. He should be on there somewhere. Anyway, enough stalling. I am pretty sure I have questions and tests ahead of me. Lets go."

Valkyrie M3 nodded slowly.

There had only been a fistful of Valkyries M since the days of Rose Mary McCrimmon Greystone. More than three, really, but not a dazzling number.

But here Jaymie was, the first Valkyrie M of the new, third millennium. She was the first Valkyrie of The M3 Era, and, gods willing, not the last. Thus: "Valkyrie M3."

"We remember J'onn," she murmured, as she led Kyle away. "He was saving the worlds for long before The League and he was saving the worlds long after. We remember J'onn J'onzz of Ma'aleca'andra. He disappeared, we think somewhere about one hundred to two hundred years ago. No-one knows where. He's... he's probably gone forever. But I hope not."

She rubbed her ear, a subconscious mannerism which was, from sheer ancestral randomness, extremely evocative of Doctor James Hamilton.

"S'weird how art imitates life," she murmured. "They put up the statues six months after I joined, when we moved into the bigger building. We were supposed to have a statue of the legendary Martian Manhunter, up there with the rest of them. But somehow the statue of him got lost on the way to Earth from the sculptor's quarry on Dryad. No-one knows what happened to that, either. Just dropped off of the manifest or something. We had to adjust the circumference of the circles to compensate for his loss."

Her shoulders rose and fell. "Not many people remember the Valkyries M. I remember Rose because she's the mother of my mother of my mother, however many it is. But to find out her real name I had to track down her grave in Historic Smallville."

The lift was before them, and she takked the key and stepped inside.

"I never found her husband's grave," she laughed faintly, with an air of reluctant morbidity. "Though I later found his name on a marriage certificate half-burned in The New York Meteor Shower of 2656. I guess now I maybe know why I couldn't find a grave. You never havin' been buried, and all."

She waited for him to board the lift and takked the key for the biggest conference room she could remember at the west end of the building.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, "if I'd remembered your hero name, if anyone did, this would make things a little smoother, I'm sure."

Jaymie paused as the lift bore them aloft, and she looked away from him, her cheeks almost as red as her irises. Really buying into this, aren't we? You're just setting yourself up for embarrassment, 'Val.' Historical fangirlishness has gotten you into trouble in your dating life, don't let it nass out your genealogy too.

Brainiac 5

They walked.

Oh, for klicks and klicks it seemed they walked, this building was frustratingly massive sometimes. Occasionally Querl wondered if they hadn't integrated tesseract technology with the structure without notifying him, making it markedly bigger on the inside even than its hugeness on the outside.

In any case, as he walked, with Saturn Girl and Cosmic Boy ahead of him gushing about archaic hero-worship, false idols... sentients were merely mortal, even if their names lived on forever, they were "only human" even if they had been born on Krypton. Rarely did such adulated heroes live up to empirical analysis.

He harrumphed softly, and resumed work on the PDDD he'd been working on when he'd arrived in the monitor room.

But then, behind him, R.J. Brande was talking.

He was... calculating.

Querl blinked. And as he walked, he gazed over his shoulder at Brande in wonder... he'd always known the man had a respectable intelligence for a human, the things he'd invented, some of the less stuffish Coluans had considered granting him honourary citizenship. But the algorithm he was enunciating at this moment was... beyond complex.

Twelfth-Level Intellect complex. Brainiac Five almost stopped, he distinctly slowed, there was something familiar about the math, there, almost like he'd seen it displayed on a lecture-vid as a boy, another one of those mindsdamned gut sensations along with it...

Sine, cosine, meta-sine... orbital parabolas and gravitational... vectoring... molecular crystalline lattice structures at the subatomic level tugging on hyperstrings The Music of The Spheres Pythagoras Kepler so long ago...

He tried to focus, tried not to stumble as he walked.

"Guilty," he mumbled. "Guilty spark. Penitent tangent."

But as he shook his head in a desperate attempt to clear it, Mr. Brande began speaking InterLac.

"His name is Wraith," Brande said to Brainiac and Rokk as he walked behind them. "He was one of the original team members from the League of Justice. He fought alongside Kara Zor-El, Diana of Themyscira, the Batman, the Martian Manhunter, and others."

"He was, and is, a most powerful being."

Fingers still poised over his PD3, Querl stopped in his tracks. He stood as Rokk and Imra walked, as Brande walked past him, he stared at the back of Brande's head. It never ceased to amaze him, the things Brande knew.

Brande had seen Legion potential in the three Originals when first Brande had met them, potential Dox himself never would have seen. Brande had pretty much dragged Querl kicking and screaming into The Legion's ranks, and The Legion had done Querl a world of good-- though he'd never have admitted that aloud --and Querl had helped The Legion bail The Universe out of many a jam.

But this... this was knowledge practically beyond the short-term memory of humankind, and Brande knew it like he knew last night's winning lottery alphanumerics, or like a grocery list from the previous week.

BRAINIAC 5.0 stood there for a moment, speechless and flabbergasted.

But Brande spoke up not again, and Querl resumed walking. Though he did decide, minds help him, to pocket that PD3 once and for all and focus very much on the situation at hand.

This warranted close scrutiny after all. Extremely close.

(Such a close scrutiny, it would seem, that Querl didn't even notice his PD3's registering an unexplained tectonic reverb in the region of Italy.)

Green Lantern

Matching eyebrow quirk for eyebrow quirk Dawnstar smiled, "I was thinking just that Lantern. It is prudent that I get you to Mr. Brande, he has made sure I would be able to get one of your kind to him if I were to meet any."

For most, Elizabeth's face was all but inscrutable. An actual smile was a thing of epic rarity. But perhaps Dawnstar could track micro-expressions across a sentient's face even more easily than she could track a soaring energy signature.

Obliquely, distantly, Elizabeth registered surprise upon her face.

That Brande would be actively watching out for Lanterns could bode either well or ill for this mission.

The plot thickens.

The winged Apache reached down into her boot and pulled out a small device. She attuned it and sent a signal to the device that matched it in the possesion of R.J. Brande. It was in his hands how this went next.

"We will procceed once we know the coordinates he wishes me to bring you to. You understand the need for this to be as subtle as possible I hope."

Elizabeth nodded easily.

"Of course," she noted. "Too overt, and one might attract the attention of politicians. Always to be avoided."

Her wholly ink-black eyes glanced in the general direction of Earth, still invisible in the distance. "Better for our kind to deal with creatures of action."

"Fate, we have a unknown in the Hall going to conference room seven. He has arcane energy readings, I think it would be prudent to have you there. Says his name is Kyle Greystone. Oh, also goes by Wraith."

Fate had just arrived at the Tower. He was just settling down at his favorite table in the library. Rereading that same damned book. the crash as the heavy book hit the floor was echoed oddly through the halls of the now all but abandoned Tower of Fate.

Jonah looked at the helm he had only just set on the table.

"Some sick joke Nabu? Jonah was pale. Like he had just seen a ghost.

"You have run from your troubles. However, it would seem that perhaps you are meant to be here, in this unique situation. Tread carefully. You must heed my words Jonah. Trust my guidance. For once."

"Yeah. Dad trusted you, Nabu. Where exactly did that get him?"

"Your father did what was needed. Your father made sacrifices, but he did so willingly."

"Another time Nabu. Let's go see if this.... person, is who he says." Jonah picks up the Helm and restores its place.

"Fate inbound, Daphnie." In a flash of purple and gold Fate departs the tower.

"Hrmph. You know, I gotta admit, the kid has a bitta me in 'im don't he.... Hopefully he makes better choices." The face of an old man in a cowbay hat stares out of the mirror in Fate's library. With a sigh, he disappears.

The great thing about teleportation is that it is instantaneous. Fate arrives at the Hall and heads toward the conference room just down the hall. Fate is nonplussed. Jonah is panicked. Fate waits.

Legion Hall: Conference Room 7

"Beings have tried child, but so far they have not succeeded. Doomsday came close. It actually killed Supergirl, but she got better."

I frowned slightly. That had been a dark time. Hell, most of the last ten thousand years of my life had been dark times. One battle after another, victories won and lost. Millions of souls released back to Hell, to only have them return to fight again in new, more horrifying forms.

"Lets go meet your friends. I am curious to see those who carry the name of my companions of years gone by."

It was not long until Valkyrie led me into a room. In it were four people. A young man with dark hair and excitement in his eyes, a striking blond girl, a older man, and a green skinned young man (Thank you Gar for making that not a shock) who looked bored with the entire ordeal.

"Welcome to the Legion of Superheroes Mr. Greystone. I am Cosmic Boy and these are my fellow members of the Legion. You have met Valkyrie M3 already, and Ultra Girl. This is Mr. Brande, our benefactor and founder. This.." He pointed to the girl, "is Saturn Girl, and the ball of good cheer over there is Brainiac 5"

Time stopped. Brainiac. Scourge from my time that I though Kara and myself had destroyed out in space hundreds of years ago.

I didn't even try to stop myself. Shadows exploded in the room as I changed into my armor, but unlike in the graveyard, I drew in all the power from Shadow. My armor was more aggressive, spiked and scaled, a weapon of it's own. A blue crown of coldfire burned above my horned head. The lights throughout the building dimmed, temperatures dropped as shadows withered and flexed reacting to my anger.

Around Brainiac 5 shadows exploded from the wall, engulfing him in solid tendrils of blackest night. He managed to activate his forcefield, but just barely. Magic met science in the darkness, and flashes of light exploded in the inky depths as the field was tested.

"HOLY SPROCK!!! What the Nass???" Cosmic Boy shouted. He reached out with his powers, grabbing what metal he could, but he couldn't see anything!!

"Imra, get some backup down here!!! This was NOT in the archives!!!!"

Saturn Girl wasted no time. She opened her mind, searching the Hall, and found a brightly glowing mind, (also a bored one).

"Power Girl, get down here!! We have a incident with a unknown super and he's killing Brainy!!! HURRY!!!!!"

And in the darkness of the room a voice spoke. A voice that elected fear in the very legions of Hell.

"You will NOT harm these children, nor any more innocents 'O foul construct. I ripped you asunder once, and after I do it again, this time I feed you to a star!"

Fate had been standing outside the door. Waiting patiently. He figured that the Durlan masquerading would be found out soon enough, and then he could go back and read. Then he saw it. He saw the shadows in the hall begin to quake, to writhe. Then he felt it.... raw, unshakable power. Whatever this was in the room, it was not a simple Durlan con artist.

Fate mutters and there is an explosion of light, Fate is gone.

Fate arrives in the room as he sees Brainiac 5 struggle with the writhing tendrils of Shadow Energy. He sees the being controlling it. Fate eyes him. In an instant he deduces the improbable. This is Kyle Greystone. Fate makes a beeline, avoiding tendrils of wild, chaotic Shadow.

Nabu is screaming. He wants to neutralize the fight. Try this try that, use this spell to negate the magical energy, Jonah ignores him. Jonah has other ideas.

Jonah positions himself in front of the Warlord of Shadow. He removes the Helm, and he smiles.... a grin that is the same on his lips as it was on his father's, his uncle's. "Kyle, stand down. You are among friends here. Please, Mind The Gap." Jonah waits. He hopes that he is right. He hopes he doesn't die here and now.

Caroline heard a voice penetrate her mind, calling out to her in utmost desperation. Saturn Girl would not have bothered her like this unless it wasn't for a darn good reason, so Power Girl wasted no time in getting to the chamber. Though she wasn't nearly as fast as Kara Zor-El had been in days long past, she was still a miniature speedster in her own right, and she flew right on into the conference room.

What she saw...

Shook her to the core.

But no one... NO ONE messed with Brainy.

Not if she could help it, anyways.

"Hey!" Caroline shouted angrily, her fists balled together in swift anger. "Let him go!"

She didn't even notice the sudden appearance of the one called Fate, her mind already made up. Unlike Jonah, Caroline had a more direct approach to handling things (she was Power Girl, after all).

She had to do something.

Once more she was soaring across the room, this time her body a mere blur of red and blue lines as she connected both her fists with the one responsible for laying the smackdown on her Brainiac. Caroline settled down in the middle of the room after she had knocked Kyle through the opposite wall, and with relief she noted that the chaotic assault on Querl had been disrupted.

"Hey, are you alright?" Caroline asked as she raced over to Brainiac, a look of concern washed over her face.

B5 / VM3: "It Hurts"

"Beings have tried child, but so far they have not succeeded. Doomsday came close. It actually killed Supergirl, but she got better."

She watched him carefully, did Jaymie, him and the frown on his face. She couldn't tell if he was being euphemistic...

Lots of things had been said of Supergirl's legend. About... Her. But to think that the tall tales told of Her returning from the dead were true, that made Jaymie's brain spin in her skull.

If Supergirl could come back from The Undiscovered Country, if Wraith could hold it at bay for a thousand years, just as M'onel said he had...

What else could cheat Death?

"Lets go meet your friends. I am curious to see those who carry the name of my companions of years gone by."

"Actually," she mused, "there's not many names actually carried over, it's really more, um, of a spiritual inheritance... though I guess you knew a Fate, huh, we've got one of those..."

But as they walked past the doors to all those conference rooms, she glanced in at Conference 7, and there they were. Two of the three Originals, and the kindly mastermind, and the fiendish genius...

"Uhm," she paused, pointing to the door with her thumb. "In here, they're in here."

And in they went, and Rokk was there, and Imra, they were beautiful--

Rokk didn't waste any time rolling out the welcome wagon.

"Welcome to the Legion of Superheroes Mr. Greystone. I am Cosmic Boy and these are my fellow members of the Legion. You have met Valkyrie M3 already, and Ultra Girl. This is Mr. Brande, our benefactor and founder. This.." He pointed to the girl, "is Saturn Girl, and the ball of good cheer over there is Brainiac 5"

Brainiac Five didn't even have time to snort derisively.

Time stopped.

Querl's blond eyebrows twitched ceilingward.

Jaymie blinked.

And in the space of time in which Jaymie blinked her red red eyes, all Shadow broke loose.

Darkforce split the photons of Conference 7, and he shifted, he shifted, the battle-hardened Graveyard Lord reared up to his full height, he shed his skin like a snake and emerged as a reptilian humanoid beast-thing made of darkness and pain and fury and rage and Jaymie's jaw dropped...

Querl swore, cursed for just a picosec: "Gri--!"

His hands were moving to his belt, shoving the labcoat out of the way, green fingers grasping for the control studs beside the "L" logo of his belt buckle...

Tentacles of tangible blackness, not photons but no-tons, they swirled like a cuttlefish's inky escape given horrible threatening menacing life and Brainiac was fast but he was slowed to a crawl in the seeming stoppage of time, his fingers reached and the tendrils reached faster...

"--iiiiiffffe!" he bellowed, as the snares enfolded him... and only then, only then, not a picosec but an attosec, Planck Time, just barely in time, did the pale azure light of Brainy's personal forcefield snap into play. They dragged him down like Captain Nemo, and he was swallowed seemingly whole.

Jaymie's jaw was dropped and her hands were outflung and her hands lit up with fire, but it was dark, it was all dark, she couldn't see where to shoot, even her infrared sight was useless, her skin was all creeped over with the chilling cold of the shadows' proximity, she couldn't aim she couldn't fire, her light wouldn't penetrate...

...there was sparks and crackling as immeasurable force met immovable object, but not enough to see by...

"Brainy," she breathed. "Oh sprock, Brainy!"

"HOLY SPROCK!!! What the Nass???" Cosmic Boy shouted.

Brainy's sentiments were similar. His arms were pinned away from the belt controls, he'd erected the field but now he couldn't adjust its configuration into anything more than default defense, he couldn't integrate the hardlight qualities of the forcefield into martial artistry, extending his reach and the force of his blows...

He couldn't move. But his forcefield was designed to keep even the children of Krypton at bay, he should be able to withstand the impacts of this... this... monstrosity...

But the darkness kept emerging from itself and striking him invisibly but tangibly and even its power began to gutter and shudder and he gritted his teeth against the inevitable.

"Neanderthal!" he grunted, between impacts. "No, no, Nah and Londo are Neanderthal, you're, you're... Australopithecus! Dirty, smelly, underevolved, subsentient... you're Eoanthropus dawsoni, you-you-you don't even exist..."

"Imra, get some backup down here!!! This was NOT in the archives!!!!"

"I'm just going to blast him!" Jaymie shouted, though she doubted anyone heard her over the crashing of blows and the other shouting happening. "I'm gonna blast him and trust Brainy's field to protect him..."

But she hesitated, despite her bravado... she aimed both fiery fists but... she couldn't pull the trigger, couldn't let fly...

...couldn't hurt Brainy, couldn't believe she'd trusted that lying nassclown charlatan...

"Power Girl, get down here!! We have a incident with a unknown super and he's killing Brainy!!! HURRY!!!!!"

And in the darkness of the room a voice spoke. A voice that elected fear in the very legions of Hell.

"You will NOT harm these children, nor any more innocents 'O foul construct. I ripped you asunder once, and after I do it again, this time I feed you to a star!"

The ice that sleeted through Jaymie's blood chilled her fire near to extinguishing.

And even implacable Brainiac was frozen by the cold cold thunder of that voice.

...but he was not frozen for long.

Incredulity was to Brainiac like the yellow Sun was to Powergirl...

"'Construct?'" he snarled, caution to the wind, not once considering that bitterness and name-calling might not be conducive to assuaging Wraith's violent tendencies. "'Construct?' You subcortical backbirth, 'prick us do we not bleed,' my homeworld has outlawed A.I. Constructs for nearly 1,000 years! I'm organic; just look at me! 'Shoot first and ask questions never?' Idiot!"

He grinned darkly at the impacts, the earthquakes of each punch, his lab coat was in shreds and his PD3 was in pieces but the forcefield hugged his body and he was safe within its cordon, maybe, maybe for now...

"No stellar deathtrap," he wheezed, "I can't think my way out of. Gravitic slingshots and electromagnetic repulsion, there's this little trick a friend named Lyle showed me..."

But the next hammerblow staggered him even within the forcefield it staggered him... he curled around the impact, attempting vainly to shield himself with himself, and he knew his belt's power supply was running low; he was going to go out just like the first Kid Quantum, how ignominious and sad...

But then Fate arrived, and Jonah tempted his pagan gods by staring down this beast unmasked, attempting diplomacy...

Was this some madcap tomfoolery, distraction, misdirection? Or did Jonah know the beast?

It was a worthy attempt, if ill-conceived. But then.

"Hey!" Caroline shouted angrily, her fists balled together in swift anger. "Let him go!"

...and Powergirl's doubled-up fists quickly put paid to that methodology, driving Wraith away with a blow like the thunderclap of Norse Thor...

...and there, freed from the flux of blackness, Querl slumped, his forcefield flickering and failing, having lasted him just long enough...

Caroline settled down in the middle of the room after she had knocked Kyle through the opposite wall, and with relief she noted that the chaotic assault on Querl had been disrupted.

"Hey, are you alright?" Caroline asked as she raced over to Brainiac, a look of concern washed over her face.

And all his arrogant paranoid spluttering was gone, all protestations at the irrelevance of Wraith's ignorant terminology fallen from his lips.

She was standing over him. And she was... beautiful.

His tongue was tied in an Escher-esque cryptogeometric formation and he could find no words, he could find no words, flabbergasted and gobstopped in a way not even Brande's inexplicable knowledge could manage.

He swallowed hard, and he...

...he stammered, he was a schoolboy, he was an idiot, she was...

...mathematical aesthetic perfection, she was gorgeous.

Plainclothes superheroism, the supergirl next door, she was gorgeous.

"Cuh," he mumbled. "Cuh-cuh-copasetic. Th-thank you."

Jaymie smiled a faint little smile as she watched the two of them.

But then she glanced in the hole through which Wraith had been ploughed...

Was he getting up from that?

Could anything get up from getting hit by Caroline, hit like that? She couldn't for the life of her remember Caroline needing to hit anything twice... and surely any second now, Fate would slap a holding spell on him.

Disaster averted. Right?

Better Than The Leading Brandes

R. J. Brande watched the scene unfold before him.

There was, for a moment, happiness in meeting people anew.

And then, hell broke loose.

Literally.

He had wondered how Wraith would react to the meeting of Braniac 5. J'onn knew all too well the memories of the former, when he and Wraith and the others had battled not only the original BRAINIAC, but his master, the rogue and evil General Zod.

And J'onn had felt the Shadows coming when Wraith changed into...well, Wraith. He had quite possibly felt it before the others, and he had restrained himself. He held back. He stopped himself from shape-shifting into his true form.

The largest part of him knew that he wouldn't have to. He knew his Legion would fare well in the situation. They had, they did, and he was proud.

Brande stepped between Caroline and VM3, placing gentle hands on both of them, little pats of reassurance and a job well done. He stepped up to Wraith. He was not afraid. He looked up into the Face of Shadow and stared into the darkness there.

"Now that we've all been properly introduced," he began, "Valkyrie can explain to you the history and origins of the members of the Legion, particularly this one," Brande indicated Brainiac 5. He looked at Wraith for a long moment. Of the many thoughts that were going through his head, and the one he fought the hardest was to pull his old friend into a gut-crushing Martian Manhunter hug.

"Here," Brande said, holding up his bag of Oreos, "have a cookie and take a break. There will be no ripping asunder today." R.J. then turned away, fumbling in a pocket for a his hyperlink comm unit. He pulled it out, read the display, and for a moment, he concentrated as he reached out with his powerful Martian telepathy and sent a reply.

Dawnstar, my angel, you have done well. Route your ingress to my private quarters, using the hidden entrance, and bring the Green Lantern there. Your route of travel is at your discretion, as I trust your judgement. I will await your arrival.

He turned back to Wraith. "I have a meeting to take," he explained. "But later, have Valkyrie M3 escort you to my residential area. You and I have much, much to discuss."

Brande waved to everyone, throwing his bag of cookies to Brainiac as he left the conference room.