Last Daughter of Krypton: Legion IC

[Lunaramblings]

Jan arched an eyebrow, he hadn't expected that part of the sentence to be the problematic one. "Forgive me. My wording was... poorly chosen. ERG-1 has taken massive energies into himself, and he seemed to take this upon himself with great finality. His status is... inconclusive. But I thought. For worse or better. That you would want to be there for him. If I have chosen this, too, poorly, I must beg your forgiveness still again."

"God has taught in the Scriptures the lesson of a universal brotherhood, and man must not gainsay the teaching. Shivering in the ice-bound or scorching in the tropical regions; in the lap of luxury or in the wild hardihood of the primeval forest; belting the globe in a tired search for rest, or quieting through life in the heart of ancestral woods; gathering all the decencies around him like a garment, or battling in fierce raid of crime against a world which has disowned him, there is an inner humanness which binds me to that man by a primitive and indissoluble bond. He is my brother, and I cannot dissever the relationship. He is my brother, and I cannot release myself from the obligation to do him good." Jonah let a weak smile cross his lips. Thank you for coming Jan. It is indeed much appreciated."

Fate looked down at the glowing gurney he was controlling. With a small utterance a construct of astral energy was formed and began to take over the job of returning Wraith to his quarters. Fate was already moving toward Jan. "Jan, please, he is like a brother, bring me to him." As he moved, Fate sent home his Mantle. This was a time in which he did not need Nabu interfering. Not now. Jonah was once again Jonah. His countenance was grim. His eyes wet. This was not the way he normal behaved around the Legion. But he needed to be only Jonah. At least for now.

Jan touched Jonah upon the shoulder, his eyes deep and full of empathy.

"Come with me," he murmured, and led the way. "The Green Lantern woman has gone to his location. It is my hope she shall bring him home in moments."

"Liz? At least he is in good hands. Jan, again. I appreciate your support. Perhaps, some day, I can show you my library. It s most.... extensive. I think a man of your religious nature would find some interesting things."

"Come with me."

 

[Varshanka]

Allana Lang - Vatican

“A family is denied to me. My trade is battle and honor. A Knight by blood and oath.” Taking a long slow breath she tried to explain. Something she never ever ever spoke about. She’d never hold her own child in her arms. She’d never know the touch of a lovers caress.

“The High Chaplain, of my world, he told me that I couldn’t. That the chance that the demon of the coin could find a way back into the material plane was to great. That I shouldn’t, that I couldn’t chance it.”

“I took an Oath. I shall take no man as a lover. I shall not wed. I shall never attempt to bear a child.” From a world were most females had a husband by fourteen, and had borne a child to their hearth by fifteen, she was neither wed nor a mother. She was unclean. Damaged. Untouchable. Impure. Damned to an eternity of carrying this burden. Alone. Years past when every female on her world was a mother. And she still had yet to feel the touch of a man. A virgin, for the rest of eternity.

Crossing the threshold into the Artificers region, she looked around for a techpreist, and spotted the one she’d seen earlier heading her way. “This way Knight Lang,” he said without pause as he turned and lead the way to a small medical suite. “The Armour is in here. We’ve tweaked the system slightly and upgraded the AI. It’ll use less cortical space than before and it’s processing speed was increased by 150%. We’ve also added a few bells and tinklers to the armament. We think you’ll be quite sprocking impressed, if we say so ourselves.”

Sighing Allana didn’t reply, the speech of the core worlds was rather fracking confusing. There were times when she was quite sure they all fracked Scrogg.

As the indicated door slipped into it’s recess point she looked at the white room. AN acolytes cell. Except for the armour that rested as if it was sitting. Moving into the room she didn’t even wait for the door to close, before she was undressing.

Naked, she stepped backwards into the boots. The biometric nanogel molding to her form. If she’d been wearing anything at all the gel would have failed, unable to create a cohesive biometric connection. Which would have resulted in the armour being four hundred plus pounds of junk.

Settling back, she admired the way the armour shifted and molded, panels and joints sliding into position. Overlapping on magnetic seals.

Silver and gunmetal grey the armour didn’t really look like much more than a robot of ages gone by. Until the helmet and visor slid into place and Aegis Circuits built within came fully online.

A soft blue glow flickered across the metal skin, lines and runes gleaming with an eerie sheen. On her HUD, which was a misnomer, as the imagery was actually being projected into the brain proper, and not onto the inside of the faceplate. So, in effect, even if her eyes were ripped out she'd still know where the enemy was.

Standing up once more she straightened, and then shifted through several stretching exercises, confirming that everything was in at least semi working order.

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Wraith

For two nights the criminals of Gotham have been cowering in fear, along with it's more upstanding citizens. People stayed home or moved in groups, even the police. Gordon had extra shifts running, police presence ramped up more than most people had seen in years.

Tonight the shadows lived in Gotham.

Two days ago Bruce had called asking if Elizabeth was visiting the Aerie, as she did occasionally when she felt separated from her brother and sister. I hadn't seen her nor him in months and told him so. Further probing (getting information out of Bruce was harder then pulling teeth with rubber bands) revealed that she hadn't checked in with him or Alfred in over two days. Not like her at all.

Times like this were what made me glad to be a member of the JLA. I dug out my communicator as Rose and the kids looked on in worry, and called up J'onn. He and Liz had a connection, so he should be able to find her in a moment with his telepathy.

He came up blank.

That was two nights ago. Bruce had shared everything with me when I emerged into the cave. Scarecrow, Ivy and Freeze were in Arkaham. Joker had been laying low he said, but he could feel it in his bones that his old adversary was up to something. Kidnapping wasn't Ducards style. He'd move against me, or Bruce if it was advantageous to him or the league, but for the most part he left wives and children out of it. Honor among madmen. We had a understanding, Ducard and I. He stayed out of my way, I stayed out of his. His reward for the part he played in taking out Drakula.

Which left a rather large demented gallery of rogues that could have done this. We started that night and wrath rained down on Gothams criminals.

I found Croc first. He liked the dark, but I was a part of it. I left his broken body, alive, in front of Gotham General. He hadn't had my daughter, but he did have what was left of his last meal, a prostitute of maybe fifteen years of age. The only mercy I had shown him was keeping him alive after I saw that.

Bruce didn't know it, but it wasn't Wraith the hero, the JLA founder who was hunting in Gotham. It was the Warlord, in all his anger and ruthlessness who was here now. It was loose from it's cage, and it was hunting.

Bruce crossed off Penguin that night. Cobblepot was home with a really really nasty case of avian flu. I think Bruce actually saved his sqwacking ass by bringing him to the hospital. I would have left him in a pile of his own filth to live or die. Thats why Bruce is a hero, and I am just a man with powers.

Kara and Barry took over searching in the daylight, and I continued my search as well. Daylight was supposed to be safe in Gotham.

This day it was anything but safe. People stayed home from work. Police traveled in packs. Night fell.

I followed Jokers spoor that night. As Bruce and Dick took down Riddler I cornered his insane henchmen and got the location of his latest hideout.

It was a trap, of course. Bruce was supposed to walk into an almost deserted warehouse, not me. Bane wasn't expecting that. He wasn't expecting to find the Warlord in all his terrible anger. It was not the Dark Knight that was broken that night, and when I deposited Bane's broken and bleeding body at the hospital, I had no more answers and a few more questions.

I smashed my communicator that night. Too many questions from my friends. They were slowing me down, keeping me from my prey. I could feel magik in the air. Rose and John were searching too. Daylight rose and I keep searching.


Tonight found me atop Arkham, a stone gargoyle staring out across the narrows, pointing my way to where I was certain that lunatic had my baby girl. This following bog lights through the city streets was getting me nowhere. I needed to use that which I did not use here on Earth. I reached out across the planar boundaries, piercing the walls and letting loose a command: *Come to me! You are summoned by your Lord and Master. Come now!*

Out of the shadows of the asylum small forms flew out, until I was engulfed in a cloud of small leathery winged creatures. Shadow Sprites. Pixies drawn by Geiger with a touch of a bad trip thrown in. Carnivorous, vicious, and cruel. They could reduce a man to bones and wet blood in under a minute. I just summoned thousands to me.

"Find him." I told them, their eyes glowing in hatred at being forced to obey my command. They smelled the ripe flesh around us, the madness within the walls. Fae at best were wild, and these were nigh uncontrollable. But my will was greater than theirs. "Find him, and harm nothing. Tell me where he is and you will go home. Disobey, and my wrath will make death a blessing. Now go!"

They dispersed, a poisonous flock of demonic bats searching the city for the one that would free them from my control. I stayed where I was, a motionless statue next to the one of stone.

Over the next few hours they tricked back in small groups, until at last one came back with news. The clown had been located. Not at a abandoned toy factory, nor a amusement park or any of his other haunts.

He was in a retirement home. A small one just inside the city limits. It couldn't tell me much more than he was there and the place smelled of death and madness.

And that it was hungry.

I sent them all back, and flew on ebon wings to the home. It was a large structure, ten stories and old. Gothic decor that so prevailed in Gotham crumbling from the weight of it's years. I entered through a top floor window, and found the first corpse, still in it's wheelchair and grinning that manic grin that the Joker's gas leaves on it's victims. I went down, and the further I went the more my rage grew.

I found him in the dayroom, bottom floor, a spider bloated on death and madness in his lair. Bound in a chair by him was a figure of a young girl, Liz's height and shape, and I snapped.

"Well well, it took you long enough. I ran out of plaything in here so I had my boys bring in a younger one. Pity, I think she broke sometime last night. Where is batsy? He should be here to see this too, after all, she is one of his little friends."


His henchmen tried to stop me, but I was darkness given crushing fist and slashing claws. Bodies flew away from me as I moved through them. He was laughing that insane way he does when I struck him in the chest, snapping ribs with a wet crack as he flew into and through a wall. I reached Liz, but when I turned her face to mine, it was another girl, not my daughter. Still alive, but horribly scarred by repeated slashes of the madman's knife.

Seeing what he would have done to my baby girl snapped the last bit of my humanity. I walked over to Joker, shadows swirling in my anger, and he was no longer laughing. I took him in my hands, blasting a hole through the wall and dragging him through it. Wings sprouted from my back and in a instant we were at the roof, his clothes clenched in my clawed hand, a ten story drop below him. All he could do was mutter weakly "Can't take a joke, can't take a joke.."

"You could drop him. I can't stop you Wraith. Your stronger, faster, and I have never seen you like this. You can kill him with a thought, and most people would just say good riddance. But the people that love you, what do you think they would say, how would they look at you. Red Raven would be sickened if she saw you like this. All rage, no humanity. And what would Val think? Could you look at her after dropping him?"

"Did you look inside?? Did you see what this waste of flesh did? Did you see the girl? She could have been HER!! And he would have laughed at every cut, chuckled as every drop of blood left her ravaged body. Do you fucking think he deserves to live?? Do you???

"Do you think that it's your right to choose who lives and dies? Do it, and your no better than him, you hands are just as bloody from one death than they are from one thousand."

I looked at the madman mumbling in my grip. I was shaking, with rage, sorrow, fear, and loathing at myself. I flung Joker back, through a small shed where he lay crumpled in a pile on the roof. Broken, but alive.

Shadows swirled around me and I walked over to Bruce, him putting something away in his belt.

Bruce, the Warrior. He always had a way to get the job done.

"Thank you my friend. I was on the edge, and madness was licking at my feet. You pulled me back. Now send me home. Call Watchtower, teleport me home please." Tears were running down my face as I said this. He knew what teleporting did to me, he knew I was removing any way for me to allow the madness back in.

"I'll find her Kyle. We will find her." He keyed a command into his comlink, and energy flashed around me as Shadow was ripped from me and I reappeared in the penthouse. I walked into the bedroom, and passed out fully dressed, and slept for twenty hours.

We never found her.

I slowly woke from the dream, a warmth next to me.

*Rose?*


I turned and looked into sable hair, bluish skin and beautiful eyes. My eyes widened and I lept from the bed, heedless of the fact that sometime during the night I had been undressed.

"Tits of the Goddess, who the hell are you?" I said in shadowspeak, the surprise of finding a native of Shadow here momentarily overriding the fact that I was naked.

 

[ChasNicollette]

“A family is denied to me. My trade is battle and honor. A Knight by blood and oath.” Taking a long slow breath she tried to explain. Something she never ever ever spoke about. She’d never hold her own child in her arms. She’d never know the touch of a lovers caress.

“The High Chaplain, of my world, he told me that I couldn’t. That the chance that the demon of the coin could find a way back into the material plane was to great. That I shouldn’t, that I couldn’t chance it.”

“I took an Oath. I shall take no man as a lover. I shall not wed. I shall never attempt to bear a child.” From a world were most females had a husband by fourteen, and had borne a child to their hearth by fifteen, she was neither wed nor a mother. She was unclean. Damaged. Untouchable. Impure. Damned to an eternity of carrying this burden. Alone. Years past when every female on her world was a mother. And she still had yet to feel the touch of a man. A virgin, for the rest of eternity.

Ceriel hesitated. "I had not. Considered. That aspect of things. Forgive my faux pas, Allana. They have married you to the coin, and you dare not marry another."

A tiny flicker of her lip towards sadness, a silent prayer on Allana's behalf in that gesture. "The Seventh Chapter of Paul's First Epistle to The Corinthians. The unbelieving husband sanctified by the believing wife. Metaphorically speaking."

'You see what you do to her, Zarathos?

You are not the only prisoner here. You would do well to remember that.'

She shook her head, and followed Allana. "The only consolation I can offer you is this: do not speak the word 'never' with such certainty. Nothing lasts forever, not in this world.

"'Omnia mutantur, nihil interit...'"

Crossing the threshold into the Artificers region, she looked around for a techpreist, and spotted the one she’d seen earlier heading her way. “This way Knight Lang,” he said without pause as he turned and lead the way to a small medical suite. “The Armour is in here. We’ve tweaked the system slightly and upgraded the AI. It’ll use less cortical space than before and it’s processing speed was increased by 150%. We’ve also added a few bells and tinklers to the armament. We think you’ll be quite sprocking impressed, if we say so ourselves.”

Ceriel remained silent for this part, glancing about, not wanting to distract the young woman from conversational partners that were actually visible and audible to everyone. Of course, she could tune her vibrations to take fully solid form, if only temporary, more than solid more than tangible, audible and visible.

But these were not in the parameters given her for her Message.

She would only fully manifest in glory if the need was utterly dire, and even then only while exercising a spirit of discernment. And if she did that now, so much less likely would it become that she would be given a form of temporary mortal flesh later on.

Sighing Allana didn’t reply, the speech of the core worlds was rather fracking confusing. There were times when she was quite sure they all fracked Scrogg.

(It rather amused Ceriel the way that cursewords had evolved over the millennia, on different planets and different planes.

She remembered the first time her little girl had stubbed her toe and snarled "Scrazzat!"

If only she'd still been at an age where washing mouths out with soap had still been permissible, but alas.)

As the indicated door slipped into it’s recess point she looked at the white room. AN acolytes cell. Except for the armour that rested as if it was sitting. Moving into the room she didn’t even wait for the door to close, before she was undressing.

The door had nearly closed by the time Ceriel decided to step through it, attuning her vibration to ease through the material atoms more easily than wind casting about raindrops.

Allana had already discarded her modesty; there were things of greater import.

I would blind the men who dared to look upon her, if they lust of the eyes and lust of the flesh, I would strike them blind like Paul upon the Damascus Road.

But there are more important things than hiding.

This woman would run into battle as bare as she is now, bare as her borning day, if it meant she was defending the right and The Light. And that is valour, if nothing else is.

Ceriel reflected upon the engineering of the machine. How like the battle-armour of The Bull Host. Devotees of Saint Dumas had worn armour not unlike this-- cosmetically speaking --for hundreds of years, some time ago.

Ceriel had met Azrael once, the Angel of Vengeance and Death invoked by Dumas' adherents. He had actually been rather kind. He enjoyed gardening.

Relentless in battle, yes. But no coin, not even a denarius, had only one side.

His imitators had not gotten him quite right.

It seemed that when it came to "on Earth as it is in Heaven," the minds of men got not character correct, but the props were quite impressive.

Were she to adorn herself with mortality, she would be given weapons and armour crafted from Earthly materials but made to Heaven's architecture, because mortal flesh cannot withstand the touch of Heaven.

And it would look. Very much. Like this.

Naked, she stepped backwards into the boots. The biometric nanogel molding to her form. If she’d been wearing anything at all the gel would have failed, unable to create a cohesive biometric connection. Which would have resulted in the armour being four hundred plus pounds of junk.

Settling back, she admired the way the armour shifted and molded, panels and joints sliding into position. Overlapping on magnetic seals.

Silver and gunmetal grey the armour didn’t really look like much more than a robot of ages gone by. Until the helmet and visor slid into place and Aegis Circuits built within came fully online.

A soft blue glow flickered across the metal skin, lines and runes gleaming with an eerie sheen. On her HUD, which was a misnomer, as the imagery was actually being projected into the brain proper, and not onto the inside of the faceplate. So, in effect, even if her eyes were ripped out she'd still know where the enemy was.

Standing up once more she straightened, and then shifted through several stretching exercises, confirming that everything was in at least semi working order.

"The Sixth Chapter of Paul's Epistle to Ephesus," Ceriel murmured, her arms crossed over her stomach. "Verses Eleven through Seventeen."

Her wings rose, and her wings descended, the equivalent of a deep, deep breath of preparation.

"Shall we go, then? Can you fly? If need be, I am capable of bearing you aloft."

 

[ChasNicollette]

I slowly woke from the dream, a warmth next to me.

*Rose?*


I turned and looked into sable hair, bluish skin and beautiful eyes. My eyes widened and I lept from the bed, heedless of the fact that sometime during the night I had been undressed.

He murmured a word.

This did not sound familiar.

Perhaps a name?

He had been dreaming, and his dreams had caused his flesh to seethe. With each flare of her nostrils she could feel the rise of darkness within him, his powers coming back to their fullest, bit by bit, perhaps enticed to greater faster infusion by the battlefield of his dreamscape.

And then he opened his eyes, and regained fuller consciousness.

And he reacted perhaps predictably.

She was a stranger to him, after all. And, she begrudgingly admitted, he was a stranger to her, as well. She had not expected him to look so... human. Beguilingly human, to be sure, mayhap as handsome as the Daxamite male that had joined the ranks.

But his skin was... pink. And his ears were... round.

Still he was beautiful. But she knew not his face to look on him, though she had long prayed to the legacy he carried in his power, his blood, the spirals of his genetic code.

He gazed upon her with startlement, and she laughed a little bit, laughed a sadistic little laugh, to see even her Dark Lord so momentarily off-guard.

"Tits of the Goddess, who the hell are you?" I said in shadowspeak, the surprise of finding a native of Shadow here momentarily overriding the fact that I was naked.

At this, a darksome eyebrow raised.

She slid from the bed to stand before him. She still wore her ceremonial attire, scant though it was, as it would not do to make advances uninvited.

But his wording was hardly ceremonial. She had never heard the High Holy Tongue of Talok to be used in such... vulgarity.

True, the priests and priestesses of her world were hardly like the priests of this world, hardly so... clean-spoken. But they used the curses to drive home points of debate and in the midst of the battlefield, never so casually as this.

"I am called a few things," she remarked, bemused, in kind, in The Tongue, "but never with such candour."

She paused, took on the appearance of considering this. And her smirk grew somewhat. "Well. At least not without a pint of silverale and a shot of adrenaline."

She glanced down at herself, and smiled softly. "'Tits of the Goddess.' They are quite nice, aren't they? Though I doubt very much they've ever been deified before."

"I am called Shadow Lass by The Legion of Superheroes. I am called Shadow Champion, chosen of the noble bloodline of Mallor to defend the sphere of Talok VIII. And I am named Tasmia."

Her tongue navigated across her blue blue lips, and her dark eyes narrowed apprasingly at him.

"I live to serve you, Scion of Shadow," she intoned. And then gestured, somewhat dismissively, ever-so-incorrigible. "And all that that implies."

Her gaze flickered down below his waist. And then returned to his face.

"Forgive your state of undress, my Lord," she apologised without the tone of apology. "It seemed you had blood on your clothing, and one does not mix blood with bedsheets. Except on... special occasions."

 

[Varshanka]

Allan Lang

Age 11

Dirty and sweaty, the Novice’s hands were numb. Their legs and backs sore. Hauling water. Hauling sand by hand. One pile to another. Carrying sticks, lumber, anything and everything. Pushups, situps, running. Polish armour. Pound on swords. Make your own sword and armour.

All day it happened. She’d done everything they had. As of today she was no longer a Initiate. No longer would she just learn the holy words. No longer did she learn just the prayers, the incantations of mental stamina that would help her steel her soul against the Dark Adversary.

Today she was a Novice. A very tired and sore novice. They’d collapsed in heaps at noon when the cook’s apprentices had brought the midday meal.

And afterwards, barely afterwards, some were still trying to eat. They’d forced themselves back up and gone some more. And some more.

And when the troop master said they were done everyone had collapsed. Collapsed in exhausted relief. And this was only day one.

“Every to the bath house. Then eat.”

Groaning, the Novices, all of them between the ages of ten and thirteen lurched back to their feet and made their way to the barracks. All but one.

“Novice Lang. Where are you going?”

“To bathe Sergeant?”

Pointing he indicated where everyone else was going.

Frowning she looked at the Sergeant. “But they’re boys.”

“No. They’re Novices. And so are you.” Pointing again he added. “NOW MARCH!!”

Startled she couldn’t help but turn and run after the others.

 

[AmenRa]

Brande

"Sir," the computer spoke aloud, "the President of the UP wishes to speak to you."

Brande cast an annoyed look in the direction of the holo-projector. The CALL WAITING image flashed.

Sigh.

"Connect him," Brande ordered.

The president's image resolved in front of him. Brande kept his attention focused on the secure link to the Legionnaire's rings.

"It seems the Legion is fighting a battle within or without the jurisdiction of the UP," the president began.

"And?" Brande asked, clearly annoyed.

"Mr. Brande," the president continued, "surely you know authorization protocols are in place for Legion excursions and incursions. My advisors report several violations -"

"Is this an important discussion?" Brande asked, "Or are you just attempting to distract me from my work?"

"Mr. Brande!" The president was shocked, but only mildly in reality. This was R.J. Brande he was speaking to.

"The Legion is not bound by one set of laws, but one ideal of justice. We hold alliance to the UP only as long as the governing body supports justice in its entirety."

"A fact I am well aware of," the president countered. "Still..."

"Still, there are rules, Mr. Brande."

Brande faced the holo image fully. "Yes," he said, "there are."

And then Brande manually disconnected the call.

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Wraith

OK, I could handle this. I have lived for ten thousand years, commanded armies, faced down what amounted to Gods, and here I was with my heart pounding, my mouth dry because a beautiful woman was coming on to me.

Oh yeah, and I was naked too!

"Now, Tasmia is it, while I do appreciate the offer and the fact you cleaned me up, I don't think it is appropriate, even in this time, to be unclothed with a woman of your... stature." I said in shadowspeak.

Not to mention embarrasing. Don't look at her breasts. YOU LOOKED AT HER BREASTS!!! STOP LOOKING AT HER BREASTS!!!!

I dropped a darkness field and started looking for my clothes. I found some pants, not mine but they seemed to fit. I was pulling them on when I noticed her watching me in the mirror.

"You can see me?" I said sharply in English, forgetting to use the language of Shadow.

 

[ChasNicollette]

"Now, Tasmia is it, while I do appreciate the offer and the fact you cleaned me up, I don't think it is appropriate, even in this time, to be unclothed with a woman of your... stature." I said in shadowspeak.

Her eyelids dropped to half-mast. It wasn't every day one got to watch a Messiah squirm like a murkworm upon a fish-hook.

She was rather enjoying it.

"You are just as human within as you are without," she opined. "Such an out-dated sense of propriety and chivalry. And they call me a throwback."

Not to mention embarrasing. Don't look at her breasts. YOU LOOKED AT HER BREASTS!!! STOP LOOKING AT HER BREASTS!!!!

Catlike, she yawned, and stretched, and smirked lazily, emphasising those particular bits of curvature that he pretended, in his naive Terran morality, not to like. Squirm, murkworm, squirm.

I dropped a darkness field and started looking for my clothes. I found some pants, not mine but they seemed to fit. I was pulling them on when I noticed her watching me in the mirror.

And so she was. Still her eerie pretty eyes gazed upon him, enjoying the view, only vaguely pretending not to be fascinated by the scars on him, the flow of his muscles under his pale pink skin.

"You can see me?" I said sharply in English, forgetting to use the language of Shadow.

Tasmia glanced down at her Ring. The autotranslator was active, using a combination of destructive interference and supercomputational omnicom technology to overlay his speech patterns-- even his speech was outmoded --with a facsimile in InterLac.

No longer was this conversation in The Tongue. And thus, she reverted to the common language of starfaring peoples, trusting that this, too, would be translated by one mechanism or another.

"Do you know nothing of your own history? The history of your people?"

She paced towards him, bare blue feet frighteningly predatory upon his bare dark floor.

"You are not the first Scion of Shadow," she murmured, "and not for always have Scions of Shadow been born on Earth. And not for always have Scions of Shadow been forbidden to sire progeny of their own. Granted, you are not compelled to use me as a receptacle for your seed, to take me as concubine or consort, but I shall guard you to my dying breath all the same, and I'll not be offended if you do not take advantage of what is, if I do say so myself, quite an offer. (But the offer is still open.)"

Her fingers trailed along his chest, exploring little injuries, distant, ancient, found there. She took his hand, then, and gazed at it, the stab-wound through his hand already very nearly gone.

And she turned her gaze back up to his face, and somehow, somehow, in her implacable, impish features, there was a fragment of sympathy. "Your befuddlement betrays you, my Lord. This is not mere obsolete, unrealistic civilisation. You have been alone for some time. Untouched. Unsure what to do with yourself in the face of a strong woman's hunger."

She held out her hand, and there in her hand danced a fragment of darkfield, a mote of shadow scissored out of the fabric of the night sky, cavorting and sculpting itself at her whim, there in her blue blue palm.

Then she closed her hand into a fist, and the shadow-thing vanished in a wisp and a whisper.

She leaned in closer still to him, and searched his face with her eyes.

"You are not alone. You are not the only one who can see in the dark."

And then the moment passed, and the sympathy faded, and her breath was warm on his skin as her languid smirk manifested anew. "Your fly is still unvelked."

 

[ChasNicollette]

"God has taught in the Scriptures the lesson of a universal brotherhood, and man must not gainsay the teaching. Shivering in the ice-bound or scorching in the tropical regions; in the lap of luxury or in the wild hardihood of the primeval forest; belting the globe in a tired search for rest, or quieting through life in the heart of ancestral woods; gathering all the decencies around him like a garment, or battling in fierce raid of crime against a world which has disowned him, there is an inner humanness which binds me to that man by a primitive and indissoluble bond. He is my brother, and I cannot dissever the relationship. He is my brother, and I cannot release myself from the obligation to do him good." Jonah let a weak smile cross his lips. Thank you for coming Jan. It is indeed much appreciated."

Jan was from Trom, not Orando, not Titan, not Hykraius. Whatever empathy he possessed, it was figurative in nature, born of wisdom and understanding rather than the capacity to read feelings or thoughts as eddies upon the wind.

But as Jonah recited this... declaration... this bit of spiritual text-- though not specifically Scriptural --Jan detected an ache in the man that was more than homesickness, a loneliness that was more than simply being out of one's, well, element.

Hm.

"For you," Jan promised him, "it is the least I can do. Besides, if every good deed done towards you is rewarded with quotes of such profundity, that is sufficient recompense in and of itself."

"Liz? At least he is in good hands."

Jan had not been present for the revelation of her name. But Jonah spoke an appellation of familiarity. Again, this was the empathy of wisdom, not of psi-activity...

Siblinghood. Not just familiar. Familial.

If not by blood then by choosing. She is his sister.

There are more secrets to you than the agony in your eyes, Jonah. You are an entire book of revelations.

"Jan, again. I appreciate your support. Perhaps, some day, I can show you my library. It s most.... extensive. I think a man of your religious nature would find some interesting things."

They covered the distance apace, quickly returning to the room from which the Threshold had sent them.

And as they approached, Jan offered Jonah a gentle, grateful smile. "Any opportunity to expand one's wisdom and transmute oneself to a higher elemental state is to be wholeheartedly embraced. I would love to see this library of yours, and I thank you for the invitation."

He gazed ahead at the turmoil and the tumult. "...if only, perhaps, for the chance at peace, and quiet, and good company. There is not much time for serenity in this place."

 

[Lunaramblings]

Jonah smiled. Only a little. His mind by now was used to being dually focused. Part of him was worrying about ERG-1, part was listening to Jan.

Jan was a pleasant suprise. In his time in the Legion, Jonah had not had much of a chance to get to know the majority of the members. Jan was one that he had heard a lot about. Almost all good. Though there were rumors. Particularly about Jan's private life. Also the occasional complaint that Jan was too spiritual, too enigmatic at times. But Jonah did not see this as a bad thing. He thought this was a plus.

"I endeavor to quip as well as I may. However, I am not always so intellectual. And I am afraid my pop culture references might be a bit dated. The only person I have known in a long time to understand them was ERG-1, the man loves a good 1980's flick. If all is well, I would be glad to arrange dinner and a tour of my library this evening. If you are available. I apologize. Perhaps I am too forward. Just not thrilled about returning to my Tower after the bloodbath I saw."

Jonah looked away from Jan as he neared Cham and Ayla. Cham looked down, not sure what to say to Jonah. Jonah nodded and then moved on. Waiting was the worst. Jonah was always impatient. Especially when patience most mattered.

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Wraith

I was befuddled. Startled, and not ready for this. Too many shocks in one day, not enough time to process them all. I reacted, and shadows swirled around me until I was encased in my armor, glowing lavender orbs looking down upon the young woman in front of me.

"Child, I know the history of my land. I know about the Crystal falls of Ashen' Kor, the Plains of Bone, and the Lost Lands. I have learned of past Scions, and walked beside the Child of Light in the eternal struggle against Evil. I have lived over ten thousand years, and tempting offers I have received hundreds of times. Thousands. I say this not as a boast, but as a fact." I said to her in Shadowspeak. This was not a conversation to be broken down later for study. "I am... honored that you think so highly of me, but child, I was born from a human man and a human woman here on this planet. I am no messiah, no Godling returned to the mortal plane. I am a being of power who has come home to rest a while, who is overjoyed in finding a daughter that has been lost for so long, and a man who still, after all those years, loves and misses his wife, my one true soulmate."


I sat down on the bed and looked at the young woman. I hope I hadn't insulted her, but I needed time. More than I had been given.

"So, tell me about your people Little One. My education about them is sorely lacking."

 

[Wyldfire]

Caroline's eyebrow twitched.

"That's like threatening me," she realised, "with The Spanish Inquisition."

She turned and hurried back to the medbed on which XS had placed her.

Deactivated the climate shielding of her trans-suit and switched the lamp on full blast yellow.

Bright.

"Keep your thumbscrews to yourself," Caroline remarked, playing along with that rogue telltale giggle she'd heard in Vi's voice, "'Doctor Feelgood.'"

"Yes, yes it is Caroline. They will stay to themselves if you stay a good girl and stay under that lamp until I see that wonderful flush of NeoKryptonian health." Salu said and quietly stopped what she was doing. "Didn't you say Garth had an injury too? He's playing macho again. Time to put a stop to that."

She walked over to her desk consol and keyed the HQ intercom. "Garth Ranzz, bring that hideously disfigured face of yours to medbay please? Ms. Ardeen, I have your pregnancy report ready for your viewing pleasure."

She turned back to Caroline with her face in the pure image of the angelic. "That ought to get him down here stat."

 

[Wyldfire]

Jo. Back on task.

Jo stood back, letting everyone else do the big brain mambo. Brain. Her eyes turned back to Val, and there she was. Still holding the brainsicle, looking almost as lost as Jo herself felt.

She nudged Val and whispered into her ear "Let's go get Re-Animage to Medbay. Brainy can pick it, him I mean from Salu."

As Jo led Val to Medbay she didn't say much. Val was looking pretty shocky. Once they got rid of the brain Jo'd see what she could do to get Val out of that.

 

[Wyldfire]

Green light coruscated in the air beside Brainiac Five, beside Dawnstar, and Elizabeth Greystone emerged into space at their side.

The wormhole closed behind her.

A second skin of verdant plasma oozed around her, hugged her form, and she inclined her head at the winged warrioress and the intellect.

"I turn my back for five minutes," she quipped, squinting at the writhing mass of light that Wildfire had become. She could almost see something in the midst of it, like something dancing at the middle of the flame.

"Tell me about it," Brainiac gestured bitterly. "And he did it right in front of my face. That rock exhibited extraordinary gravitational properties given its diminutive size. I'll bet it had Nth Metal. Third most valuable substance in The Universe, and he goes and annihilates it."

"Right then," Liz pondered coolly, "there's one count of vandalism, one count of negligence, one count of-- let's say-- destruction of evidence in an ongoing criminal investigation. To say nothing of the light pollution. And all of it outside UP space and therefore in Lantern Corps jurisdiction."

Querl paused. "Hm."

Liz pointed her Ring at The Feral Star. "I better incarcerate him. The sooner I do that, the sooner you can request extradition and the sooner I can remand him into your custody."

Querl smirked. "Time, as they say, is a-wasting. Though I'd be interested to see--"

The Ring flashed.

One. Two. Three. Four.

Four men in jumpsuits formed out of the plasma fields she cast, levitating at the four points of the compass around the energy globe.

Men in jumpsuits with a distinctive logo on the shoulder. And nametags.

And massive packs on their backs, portable acceleration chambers with projection wands. Projection wands which they then deployed.

The sly looking one with the slightly craggy face smirked a devil's smirk. Keyed the power on his projection wand. His three fellows followed suit.

'Let's show this distant-future sprock-up how we do things downtown.'

The wands crackled and rattled and hummed and birthed forth particle streams, all in green, thundering and lightning in the silence of space--

--the beams coursed and spread, the energies engirdling the globe, forming equators and meridians--

--cordoning the swirling, spheroid cloud, consolidating it, winnowing it down, honing it--

--gathering it to a tight-packed globe barely the size of a basketball.

And Liz. Liz held up her left hand, and dangling from that hand was a thing about the size of a shoebox with a gate on the overside, and it dangled on the end of a long thick dark dark dark green cable.

Taking ahold of a handle that cropped out from the back at the top, Liz slid this-- it slid, defying expectations, over the empty void of black space, as though some gravitational plane had materialised for the purpose.

The device slid to a stop beneath Wildfire's contained form.

And then the gate snapped open and searing bright bright bright green light emanated forth, an irresistible tractoring force, dragging that contained energy down into it like a toy boat in a maelstrom.

The box snapped shut.

The four men dissolved into emerald light, and then into nothing.

Liz flew over to the box; smoke curled up from it, again, despite this being impossible in a vacuum, all part of the illusion, attention to detail.

She picked it up by the cable, swung it back and forth like a pendulum, tick-tock, tick-tock.

Faintly, faintly, she smirked. "'No job is too big, no fee is too big.'"

"Jonah's going to kill me that I did that without him," she pointed out. Then: "All right, who wants him?"

"I believe he would best be in the very angry hands of Brainiac Five. I will return to the Headquarters on my own. When I get there I will add my report to the debriefing. Until we meeat again, Fare well Lantern."

With that the winged woman accelerated herself to near light speed. At this rate it would take her a month and a half to return to headquarters, but she had planned on diverting to Starhaven and using their threshold to get back to Earth. It would lessen her time to a day at most. This way she'd also have time to replace the spear she'd sacrificed taking the pirates down earlier.

 

[Varshanka]

Allana Lang - Vatican

“If it is allowed Ceriel, I have but one last stop to make. A moment in time. A pause of breath.”

Stepping through the door as it slid open she moved unerringly through a building she’d visited only once before. When she’d been risen to the Rank of Celestial Knight.

Moving into the rather small chapel. A place for the lesser novices and acolytes in need of a moment of silence. Moving into the room she nodded, her head dipped in silent prayer as she knelt before The Cross.

Truth.

Honour.

Justice.

A microsecond passed. A pinpoint laser engaged, firing and lighting 137 candles. One hundred and thirty-seven knights and squires had died in battle due to her error in judgment.

She prayed for their souls. The roster of names traveling unbidden from her lips. No data-slate carried this list. No cortical transceiver told her the names. No Machine Spirit whispered to her. These names were marked on her soul. Each of them a grave mistake. Each of them a burning brand of failure.

Finishing she stood and moved to the candles. The pinpoint laser firing. Lighting three more candles. One after another. A name whispered for each of these oh-so-special candles.

“Lady Cleo Suliman. Wife and beloved of Lord-Knight Karak Lang of the House of Kent. Mother.

“Lord-Knight Karak Lang of the House of Kent, Husband of Lady Cleo Suliman. Father.

“Johann Lang, Infant son of Lady Cleo and Lord-Knight Kara Lang. Brother.

“Peace be unto you. May you find peace in the land beyond life, that I could not provide for you in the here and now.”

Swallowing her pain as the demon inside chortled in glee, She turned and looked at Ceriel. “I’m ready to go, and I apologize for this small delay.”

Indicating the door across from the chapel she moved to it, stepping out on to a balcony and leaping out. Micro engines engaged. Micro in that they were small. But each of them was capable of outputing enough power to blast the moon apart. Several times over.

“I am capable of self sustained flight across the galaxy. And I would race you, but since I don’t know the destination, and you could translate between space and time instantaneously, such a challenge would be .. moot.”

 

[ChasNicollette]

Element Lad and Lightning Lass. Threshold Xmission.

"I endeavor to quip as well as I may. However, I am not always so intellectual. And I am afraid my pop culture references might be a bit dated. The only person I have known in a long time to understand them was ERG-1, the man loves a good 1980's flick. If all is well, I would be glad to arrange dinner and a tour of my library this evening. If you are available. I apologize. Perhaps I am too forward. Just not thrilled about returning to my Tower after the bloodbath I saw."

"If anyone can find a way to reintegrate our friend," Jan promised him, "it is Brainiac Five and his vast cognitive abilities. As closed-minded as he has been to things beyond the grasp of his Science, he has that Science grasped firmly. I am sure, ah, that you and ERG-1 will be trading '1980's flick-quips' from your, mm, 'pop culture' in no time at all."

He paused, and offered an attempt to cheer up. "And while you are apologising for having your references be dated, I shall apologise in advance for my unnecessary preoccupation with The Hexaëmeron. As I recall, this happened some time ago."

Gazing quietly into Fate's eyes, he nodded easily. "Far be it from me to dismiss a dissolution of solitude for time spent affirming life with friendship. Dinner and a library."

Jonah looked away from Jan as he neared Cham and Ayla. Cham looked down, not sure what to say to Jonah. Jonah nodded and then moved on. Waiting was the worst. Jonah was always impatient. Especially when patience most mattered.

Ayla observed the silent awkward exchange between Reep and Jonah, and she-- she, too, hesitated. On Winath, everyone was paired. Two by two. To be suddenly bereft of your twin, to become a "solo," this was ever and always devastating.

Just ask her brother. Not Garth. Her other brother.

Jonah had the same look in his eyes that Mekt sported in his more sympathetic moments. He just didn't want to be alone.

At first, Ayla was furious with Chameleon for not saying anything. But then she kicked herself for not thinking of anything, either. And instead, she simply slipped into Cham's arms. Guided his arms around her, and placed her forehead against his shoulder.

Mutual consolation.

Jan watched Jonah retreat into himself.

Watched him quietly for a moment.

"Very well," he murmured, softly, nigh-inaudible. "If you need me, I will be around."

And then began to proceed to the medbay.

Where his other charges waited.

His first duty was to the living. But with the living tended, he must needs visit the dead.

He stilled the dread in his heart, and proceeded.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Shadow Lass. Wraith's quarters. (And, speaking of The Hexaëmeron...)

I was befuddled. Startled, and not ready for this. Too many shocks in one day, not enough time to process them all. I reacted, and shadows swirled around me until I was encased in my armor, glowing lavender orbs looking down upon the young woman in front of me.

This was. An interesting sensation.

To be within his tenebrations as they swirled and transformed him. To see him change from simply being human to being in a place of power.

He became something. Other.

And this gave her pause. He went from simply being handsome to being... beautiful...

She felt her knees tremble and with a little irritated scowl, she stilled them.

"Child, I know the history of my land. I know about the Crystal falls of Ashen' Kor, the Plains of Bone, and the Lost Lands. I have learned of past Scions, and walked beside the Child of Light in the eternal struggle against Evil. I have lived over ten thousand years, and tempting offers I have received hundreds of times. Thousands. I say this not as a boast, but as a fact." I said to her in Shadowspeak.

She arched her eyebrow. Boast or not, that is quite an impressive fact. At least I am not the only one refused. Perhaps I am in good company.

She did bristle, however, at the term "child." She was 19 years of age, as things were reckoned on Earth, the arbitrary U.P. standard calendar. No mere whelpling for him to discard as an immature floozie.

But she kept her complaint to herself. And simply listened. For a change.

This was not a conversation to be broken down later for study. "I am... honored that you think so highly of me, but child, I was born from a human man and a human woman here on this planet. I am no messiah, no Godling returned to the mortal plane. I am a being of power who has come home to rest a while, who is overjoyed in finding a daughter that has been lost for so long, and a man who still, after all those years, loves and misses his wife, my one true soulmate."

I sat down on the bed and looked at the young woman. I hope I hadn't insulted her, but I needed time. More than I had been given.

"So, tell me about your people Little One. My education about them is sorely lacking."

Again with the terminology. "Little One." She bit the inside of her cheek and sat beside him on the bed.

"One qualifies for Legion membership at the paltry age of sixteen," she intoned, "and I am three years older than that. For the record. And I have been training since my cradle to be one of the foremost combatants in the galaxy. Perhaps I cannot hold a candle to the warrior Armorr, but it is said that none can. Still, I am no 'slouch,' despite my not having yet reached 10,000 years of existence."

She turned to face him more fully, her expression one of haughty displeasure. "Also. For this selfsame record? I have little to no interest in replacing your beloved... 'wifey.' Honestly. Honestly. I could not be less intrigued by the sentimental machinations of your heart. Love whomever you like. Long for them, ache for them, this is your prerogative."

She held up her left hand, its pinky finger extended. "I am rather fond of this particular digit, and am not especially inclined to lop it partway off in a ceremony of binding."

There it was again. That smirk. Too lazy to be a smile, too languid to be a leer, but combining aspects of both.

"That having been said," she mused, "downtime between battles is murderous to creatures of warfare such as yourself. It might just prove that, as you are 'resting awhile,' fucking me senseless could be an enjoyable way to pass the time and to relieve certain biological pressures. For the, ah... for the record."

She was no mere groupie fangirl wench cosplaying at being worthy of The Scion. She was worthy.

And she knew it.

"As for my people," she gestured, "specifically the people of Talok, well... in The Beginning, The Presence created The Heavens and The Earths. And thereafter, it took some time for things to cool down and organise themselves. It took some time before the rules solidified, became concrete, and everyone understood them. In those days, travel betwixt the planes was far easier than it is now. The Fourth World began, and the friends and foes of New Genesis and Apokolips could travel freely to our dimension without the benefit of Boom Tubes, The Fae visited Gaea with impunity, angels made love to human women on faraway Earth and birthed The Nephilim, and the people of Shadow...

"The people of Shadow established twin colonies in the system called 'Talok,' on the third planet and the eighth. When the walls closed sometime later, when transitions between the planar strata became that much more difficult to navigate, we were cut off from our homeplane, but still, we kept on the traditions as best as we could. Especially on Talok VIII.

"My ancestress, Lydea Mallor," she continued, "(the first Lydea Mallor) founded the colony on Talok VIII, and there she was visited by a Scion of Shadow. The very first Scion of Shadow. And he took Lydea as his consort, until such time as he was called back to serve The Empress of Shadow. And when he left, she found that she was with child. And every girlchild born thereafter of Mallor blood, and sometimes the rarest boychild, was born with a... connection... to the power wielded by The Scion. The Empress does not give out her power lightly, and thenceforth she proclaimed that no Scion should again rear 'scions' of his own. The 'damage' was done, however, and she promised not to lay waste to us so long as we maintained our devotion to our homeplane, and to protect and defend and tend the once and future Scion should ever he come to our care."

She paused, and pursed her lips. "It intrigues me that you say you have a daughter. One wonders how you circumnavigated the prohibition on breeding. But this is... academic."

"You have met The Scion of The Light," she pointed out. "He will be the first to tell you that being native to one plane does not mean you cannot be born of another. You are fully human and you are fully Shadow. The Terrans are your people, but so are the creatures of endless night. The circumstances of your birth are similarly academic. What matters is the same rogue element manifested in your genetics as manifested in all your predecessors, and this was no mutation by random chance. This was the touch of Destiny. You were Chosen. You have come back to us.

"Like The Daughter of Hope once you knew," she suggested, "if my understanding is correct, was as much a child of Earth as she was a emissary from Krypton. You are born of humans and born with Shadow, and you are both. To neglect this is to neglect the full nourishment of your being."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Powergirl, Lightning Lad, Lightning Lass, and Kid Quantum. T.X. and Medbay.

"Yes, yes it is Caroline. They will stay to themselves if you stay a good girl and stay under that lamp until I see that wonderful flush of NeoKryptonian health." Salu said and quietly stopped what she was doing. "Didn't you say Garth had an injury too? He's playing macho again. Time to put a stop to that."

Caroline arched her eyebrow as she reclined on the bed, slowly feeling the corrupted energies of her cells being replaced with the far more palatable yellow sunlight. She couldn't resist a comment, however, and it tumbled from his lips chock-full of good-natured sardonicism: "Never let it be said that you're not a kind and benevolent healer, Salu. Your bedside manner is the envy of S.P. interrogators everywhere."

She walked over to her desk consol and keyed the HQ intercom. "Garth Ranzz, bring that hideously disfigured face of yours to medbay please? Ms. Ardeen, I have your pregnancy report ready for your viewing pleasure."

She turned back to Caroline with her face in the pure image of the angelic. "That ought to get him down here stat."

Caroline's mouth fell open.

Her eyes went wide.

And she clapped a hand over her mouth and tried to keep her laughter from damaging special equipment, oh holy Rao that was priceless.

"You're The Devil, Salu Digby," Powergirl grinned. "And I think I love you."

"Oh, if I could only see the look on his--" she paused, stopped, self-corrected, "--oh, fuck, wait, 'course I can."

...her eyes glinted as she peered through myriad levels of the complex and saw, there, the expression on Garth Ranzz' "hideously disfigured face."

And it was. Absolutely without price.

Brande and McCauley IV combined didn't have enough credits.

Garth stood there, gawking at Imra, his face reddened to the colour of beets.

His posture was hunched, as though from the weight of the burden of this knowledge, his already long face was stretched, aghast...

...hands both biological and technological were open wide, held low in front of him, his right eye wide, his left eye squinting...

...his medwipe dangled from metalloid fingers, forgotten...

"Wait," he mumbled, "what?"

"But I never."

"But we never."

"(Not that I didn't. Think about it. Y'know.)"

"But--"

"So you were--"

"Have you been--"

"--are you dating something?"

He staggered back a bit like he'd been slugged in the gut by one of the Lightning Beasts of Korbal.

And then he wheeled away and sprinted for the medbay, forgetting his head injury, outstripping Jo and Jaymie and Jan all in a blur.

Ayla goggled. "No way. She had to be. Vi was kidding, right?"

Kid Quantum stood there for a second. And then turned and arched an eyebrow at Brin Londo.

"T-Wolf, whiff Imra a second," she declared, indicating Saturn Girl with a thumb. "Best pregcheck ever."

...and Garth skidded into the archway into the medbay, almost stumbling as he tried to wriggle himself through the half-opened door...

"INEVERLAIDAHANDONHER," he bellowed as he half-fell, leaning on a medbed for support.

"Methinks," Caroline mused, head back and eyes closed, feigning ignorance and innocence, "he doth protest a whole lot."

Garth's nostrils flared, and he held up an index finger of imperious and commanding nature. "Doooooon't make me put Pink K in your coffee."

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Imra Ardeen

*WHAT?????* broadcast throughout the room, edges going as far as the personal quarters in the Legion hall.

"I'll kill her! No, wait, I'll torture her then I'll kill her. No, I'll lock her in a room with Brainy and have him explain parallel quantum physics to her!!"
She then turned and stared at her teammates, blond eyebrow raised in an arch. "Brin, you keep your nose to yourself!! I'm going to medbay."

And with that, Imra exited the room, marching her way briskly in the direction Garth had barreled down.

 

[ChasNicollette]

VM3: "Distraction." Threshold Xmission and Medbay.

Jo stood back, letting everyone else do the big brain mambo. Brain. Her eyes turned back to Val, and there she was. Still holding the brainsicle, looking almost as lost as Jo herself felt.

She nudged Val and whispered into her ear "Let's go get Re-Animage to Medbay. Brainy can pick it, him I mean from Salu."

"Right, right," Jaymie nodded, adjusting her hold on the jar. "Yeah. Good call. I mean. It's not like I'd know where to put the thing. The guy. I, uh, can't tell a frammistat from a doohickey on the best of days--"

There was more to that sentence, but she just sort of stopped.

And, glumly and dumbly, she walked. She didn't even flinch as Garth rocketed past, even though the breeze of his passing was enough to toss her blue hair into her red gaze.

As Jo led Val to Medbay she didn't say much. Val was looking pretty shocky. Once they got rid of the brain Jo'd see what she could do to get Val out of that.

Valkyrie M3 paused at the door of the medbay, holding the bottle, just outside the motion-sensor radius that would trigger the door to open.

They'd started the day with a mission that involved them not saying much.

And here they were again. Standing in silence.

And "Val" took a deep breath, steeled herself. Tried again to be brave, tried again for the eighth time today...

She slipped into the medbay, and quietly inserted the small tank she carried into a suspended animation unit. "No, see, look. Frammistat."

The omnitherm paused, only briefly, seemingly oblivious to Caroline's presence, to Salu's, to Garth's, to Gim's, to Ord's...

She stared across the room at Monstress' form, lain in repose.

Jaymie waved a little wave. "Hey, Candi."

She paused again for a moment, her red eyes glazed, and then she returned her attention to Jo Nah. "So, hey, mission accomplished. Maybe Brainy'll even give me a silver star before the day's done."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Lightning Lass and Kid Quantum. Threshold Xmission.

*WHAT?????* broadcast throughout the room, edges going as far as the personal quarters in the Legion hall.

"I'll kill her! No, wait, I'll torture her then I'll kill her. No, I'll lock her in a room with Brainy and have him explain parallel quantum physics to her!!"
She then turned and stared at her teammates, blond eyebrow raised in an arch. "Brin, you keep your nose to yourself!! I'm going to medbay."

And with that, Imra exited the room, marching her way briskly in the direction Garth had barreled down.

Wisely, Jan stepped aside to let Imra pass.

Wisely.

He arched an eyebrow.

Ahhh, serenity. What I wouldn't give.

Ayla and Jazmin looked at each other.

"So," Ayla attempted. "Was that a 'no,' then? 'No I am not greatly with child?'"

Jazmin shrugged. "Never actually said 'no.' Just sort of shouted and stalked off. So much for doctor-patient confidentiality."

Ayla's eyes went wide. "Oh. Oh gods. You don't suppose it's twins, do you? It's kind of a Winathian thing, and--"

"Two more Garths?" Kid Q winced. "That's all we need."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Green Lantern 2261 and Brainiac Five. GX-3396, formerly.

"I believe he would best be in the very angry hands of Brainiac Five. I will return to the Headquarters on my own. When I get there I will add my report to the debriefing. Until we meeat again, Fare well Lantern."

With that the winged woman accelerated herself to near light speed.

Liz watched Dawnstar fly away until her acceleration took her literally clear out of sight. "Good hunting."

Briefly, she glanced at the Coluan.

"She really is quite formidable," she mused, "isn't she?"

Brainiac, too, watched her soar away.

"She is no-one to be trifled with," Brainiac acknowledged. "Of all the living Legionnaires, I trust her the most implicitly, save with one thing."

Liz regarded him with an eyebrow elevated. "Which one thing is that?"

"None of your business," Brainiac replied, simply, and held out his hand. "Give me the squaj. Consider that my extradition paperwork filed in triplicate."

Green Lantern handed over the construct ghost-trap, still smouldering. "Of course."

Brainiac dangled the trap by the Ring-construct cable. And poked the trap, watching it swing back and forth. "He's alive, in there?"

Liz nodded. "He's alive. My Ring detected distinctive undulations in the underlying currents of the particle cloud."

Brainiac scowled at the box. "Idiot. I wonder what your half-life is, now? A million years, a hundred million? I should pump you into the heart of a warp reactor set to overdrive. See how cocky you remain when you're reduced to a handful of antiröntgens."

He took a deep breath, and looked around.

"The Asteroid Archipelago," he murmured. "Interesting. I wonder if any of the other bodies in this grouping exhibit unusual properties? Should really see about establishing an observatory out here. A Science Asteroid."

Liz pondered this for a moment. "A 'Science Asteroid?'"

Brainy harrumphed. "If there can be a Disney Planet," he shook his head, "then at the very least, Science can have an asteroid."

"At the very least," Liz agreed.

And her eyes hardened as her Ring billowed forth roaring searing power...

...another wormhole spiraled out of nothingness, and Brainiac dove through it.

Liz followed directly behind.

And the wormhole irised shut behind them.

Leaving this part of space alone once more.

There had been Death. There had been Destruction.

And now there was... silence.

At least for now.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Brainiac Five, Green Lantern 2261, Teen Lantern, and M'onel. Threshold Xmission.

Space and time yawned open...

...the dimensions folded like pages of a book...

...and Brainiac Five and Elizabeth Greystone emerged, standing in the space where the Threshold had been.

Brainiac paused. Drank in the roster gathered before him.

And tossed the trap to Fate, utterly dispassionate. "He's fine. Want to help me fix him?"

"I can't promise I won't break him again afterwards. But you can help with the first thing."

Rond approached Liz warily. She suddenly looked... tired. "Everything, ah, copasetic?"

She smiled faintly at him. "We have to go and see them."

Rond flinched. "Now?"

Liz chuckled faintly, though her eyes wafted past him and stopped on R.J. Brande. "Soonish."

And walked to R.J.'s side, arms crossed over her stomach, smiling gently at him. "Said I'd be back."

Rond Vidar stood there for a moment, literally unable to decide if he was apprehensive that The Guardians wouldn't accept his paltry contribution to their grand design. Or perhaps that they would.

M'onel stood a few yards away. All the whole world moving around him.

His hands were on his hips and his head was bowed and his eyes were closed.

And he felt very much alone.

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Wraith

"Right, your not a child. I apologize for treating you as such. Sometimes the weight of my years colors my speech in not so welcome ways. I'll make you a deal, I'll call you Tasmia, if you call my Kyle." I said to the young woman.

"And if you are wondering how we got around The Lady's proscription? Love. Thats how. That and some luck. I have people alive now that are of my blood. Your Valkyrie is one."