It had been a long night. Now, as the sun began to peak out over the eastern horizon, Commissioner Santel sighed and pushed away from her computer screen, rubbing her eyes.
With another sigh she stood and stepped out of her home office and made her way out of her own quarters and up the few dozen levels to the penthouse level.
The automated security system instantly recognized her and let her in.
It was truly a spacious affair; this grand penthouse that Kat had not even been aware was hers until the night before.
She paused at the doorway of the master bedroom, peeking in to see Kat curled on the bed, the sheets twisted and rumpled as if the young woman had tossed and turned for the few hours she had been able to sleep.
Palming the door shut, she then made her way through the penthouse to the grand entrance and the outer terrace that would give her an unobstructed view of Metropolis Bay and the rising sun.
Settling into a form fitting, all weather seat, she stared up into the brightening sky, as if looking for something or someone she knew she would not see. She then closed her eyes, ignoring the single tear that welled up and spilled out from her right eye and on to her cheek.
She was so tired of playing this game; feigning ignorance of things of which she had an intimate knowledge was getting harder each and every day. She wondered how much longer she could keep it up…and she wondered if those that had requested her to take this assignment knew exactly what they were asking…what it would do to her?
She put her hands to her face, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a small sob as the weight of the years and the memories that came with them pressed in on her.
“I can’t do it anymore.” She whispered.
“You have to, if only for a short while longer, old friend.”
Her head jerked up and she looked around.
“Great.” She muttered, seeing nothing and no one. “Now I’m hearing voices.” She purposely shied away from the thought that she had almost recognized the voice.
She stood and moved to the railing the lined the edge of the rooftop, looking out over the city.
“Computer, music please.” She spoke softly, knowing the penthouse system would pick up her words. “Access my home system, code gamma theta seven three beta. Music selection two five nine.”
There was a slight pause and then music filled the air:
Hey baby I'm talkin to you
Stop yourself and listen
Some things you can never ever do
Even if you try, yeah
You're banging your head again
Cause somebody won't let you in
One chance, one love, your chance to let me know...
She closed her eyes again, letting the slight breeze waft against her face, buffeting and tangling her shoulder length hair.
It was an old song. Real old. By today’s standards it would be archaic, played with instruments long outdated as technology advanced.
And yet, thanks to a time capsule uncovered a few years past, the duo that had made that song famous so long ago was once again thrilling audiences in the 31st century. An entire collection of music recorded on prehistoric ‘compact discs’; it had not taken people long to realize the financial possibilities.
The music had been painstakingly copied and released to the public and had become an instant sensation. Voices from the past.
Santel smiled, her eyes still closed. How many, she wondered, would be surprised to learn that not one single song on those CD’s, which now resided in the Smithsonian Museum, had been written by the duo that sung them? That every single one had been made famous on other Earths? Earths that no longer existed. And how many would be surprised to discover exactly who those two girls, such a sensation so long ago, had really been?
She blanked her mind and let the next song take her, opening her mouth to sing softly along.
These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside
Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away
“That sounds good.”
Santel opened her eyes, turning.
“Music off.” She ordered, seeing Kat standing in the patio door, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
“You have a good voice.” Kat commented. “But I couldn’t understand more than a word or two.”
“Old English.” Santel forced a smile. “You might say I was a student of old languages in my younger days.” She spoke a few words and Kat’s eyes widened.
“That sounded like Kryptonese, but I have no clue what you said.”
“All languges evolve over time.” Santel replied. “Even Kryptonese. Meanings and word sounds change over the years. I would have been surprised if you had understood.”
Standing, she walked over to the younger woman, pulling a compad from an inside pocket of the suit vest she wore.
“I’m glad you’re awake.” She said, changing the subject and handing the compad to Kat. She ushered the young woman back into the living area and into a seat.
Kat yawned as she tried to focus on the compad.
It had been a long night.
She had explored her penthouse and then, when the Commissioner took a break from her research, went through it again, showing it off. The two had then returned to Santel’s little cubbyhole and gone back to work.
Finally, unable to stay awake any longer, Santel had sent her back up to the penthouse to spend the night.
“I would rather you stay here, tonight.” She had said. “That way you are close by if I find something.”
“Didn’t you sleep at all?” Kat now grumped as she studied the compad.
“A bit.” Santel answered, somewhat vaguely.
“What is this?” Kat frowned and paged through the report. She stopped and looked up.
“First, please tell me that Fred Dalnes had no clue that Cora Zir-El and Katrine Kent were one and the same person.” Santel demanded before she could speak.
“No.” Kat shook her head. “I was careful to only show up at his offices as Cora. He knew nothing about Kat. Nor did my financial records point to that.” She grimaced. “Kat has her own account…and it has been a struggle to make do only on that account.”
“I can only imagine.” Santel remarked, her tone dry. “Well, Kat doesn’t have to worry about money anymore. But she may have to worry about keeping her job!”
“What?”
“Officially, Cora Zir-El is dead.” Santel soothed. “While I was checking last night, I discovered that her accounts were about to be frozen and moved back to Daxam. So I moved them.”
“Oh no.” Kat slumped.
“Oh yes. Katrine Kent is now wealthy beyond her wildest dreams.”
“How?” Kat shook her head. “There’s no way you could do that without leaving a trail even an idiot could follow!”
“I had a little help.” Santel smiled thinly. “Believe me, there is no way that trail is going to be uncovered. As far as all our systems are concerned, those accounts were transferred back to Daxam. What happened to them there is beyond our control. And every single step of that transfer was logged. What’s more, the Daxamite systems will report that the accounts were received…down to the last centa-cred!”
“And Kat suddenly becoming rich is not going to attract attention?”
“Of course it will.” Santel nodded. “There’s no way I could stop that. But I could, again with a little help, make it appear one hundred percent logical…and legal. You, my dear, had a great aunt Lori Kent…who was fabulously wealthy…and she left everything to her only remaining relative…a relative that was not even aware she had a rich aunt…you!”
“You have got to be kidding!” Kat should her head. “A rich aunt? That is just so…cliché!”
“And, believe it or not, all the more believable because of it.” Santel smiled. “The beauty of it is…there really was a Lori Kent, and her will did stipulate that her estate be awarded to any proven relative. You see, Lori thought she was the last of her line. And she was. Sure, there are other Kents, but she had not a single living relative. Not one. Until, that is, you came along! We were able to convince the systems that you were, indeed, Lori’s only living relative. You got everything.”
“And what exactly did I get?” Kat demanded.
“Well, actually…nothing.” Santel admitted. “I diverted it to…someplace else.” She held up a hand. “Hold on. Nothing illegal. Not really. But that money might come in handy during the next phase. Instead, I dumped Cora’s account into Kat’s.”
“That’s twice you’ve alluded to some future plan of yours, Commissioner.” Kat’s eyes narrowed. “And you haven’t elaborated. But you’ve made it clear that, whatever those plans are, they concern me.”
“Settle down, Kat.” Santel shook her head. “All I want to do is help you do what you want to do!”
“I want to be a Sec-Pol officer. Though I have considered trying out for the new UP Security team.”
“You want to be a Sec-Pol officer.” Santel shook her head. “Is that why you have been sneaking around playing hero? Is that all you want to do with it? Play around with it? If so, let me know and I will have you on the next ship to Daxam.”
“I…no...”
“Then tell me about it, Kat. I asked you last night, but we got distracted. Why do you do it? Why have you decided to bring Supergirl back?”
“I…” Kat paused, thinking it through before she just blurted out an answer. “I grew up fascinated by our family’s history.” She went on after a moment. “At first it was a mere fantasy. I had the same powers as Superwoman, Andromeda, Supergirl, and Powergirl. So I began to play out those fantasies. I learned Koh-Re, I learned to use those powers. I trained for the day I could get out and be Supergirl.”
“But…” Santel prompted when Kat paused yet again.
“But it changed when I finally put on the uniform for the first time and…”
“And saved a malfunctioning Sky Train.” Santel nodded. “That was the earliest report we had of a new Supergirl. And it just happened to coincide with your graduation from Sec-Pol Academy. Four hundred commuters owed their lives to you that day!”
Kat nodded.
“That’s when it became real. When it dawned on me that it wasn’t a fantasy. That’s when I realized it was not about me at all. But about responsibility. I have these powers. I have to use them. I can’t explain it…” she stopped when Santel laid a hand on her arm.
“I can.” The Commissioner spoke softly. “Do you remember the day I told you about your psych profile? I said your profile labeled you as a hero. I wasn’t joking, Kat.” She frowned as she considered her next words. “Over the years, we’ve been able to map personality profiles far more accurately than ever before. Thanks in great part to research by your family, I might add. I am not a psych tech, but my job, both as a Captain in Sec-Pol and now as Commissioner, require that I have at least a minimal understanding of how to utilize a person by studying their profile. That meant I had to take classes and, for all practical purposes, become a Psych major.” She stabbed a finger at Kat. “They are few and far between, Kat. But people with your kind of profile fall into two categories. Super-hero or super-villian. A Sec-Pol officer can be a hero, can have a profile that labels him as a hero, but yours…yours is far beyond that. Remove that officer from the field, take away his badge, make him find another line of work, and he will most likely go on with life and adjust to the change. But people with your kind of profile…it can’t be done. You HAVE to be a hero…or a villain. You have to use your abilities to their full potential. You have to have a cause…be it good or evil. When you are not able to indulge in that…” She shook her head. “Your great, great, great, great grandmother is a prime example.”
“Kori?” Kat did not bother to hide the perplexed look on her face.
“Kori.” Santel nodded. “Does it surprise you that I know as much as I do about her? It shouldn’t. She was every bit as famous from a historical point of view as her sister. But there are some things we don’t know…but I am willing to make a guess. Kori Zor-El retired early from being a hero. She moved to Daxam and married Mak-Tu. Everything might have gone fine for awhile. But eventually, I would be willing to bet, she began to slide into depression. So much so that I imagine she would need medical assistance to fight it off. Am I even close to the mark?”
“Yes.” Kat nodded. “The records show that, for some time before her death, she suffered from severe clinical depression.” She had been looking down at her lap…yet now she looked up, a fire in her eyes. “But that depression ended when she came out of retirement!”
“For her final mission.” Santel nodded. “The mission to a possible future of the Qwardian Probability. The mission that ended with her death…and the loss of Superwoman and Rogue….”
“…You have got to snap out of it!”
Kara and Rogue, both bruised and bleeding from multiple wounds, floated in the sky above a world that burned below, one on either side of the grief stricken young woman.
Carrie took a deep breath, nodding slightly, her eyes closed and her strong arms wrapped protectively around the body of her dead sister.
“We can grieve when we get home, Kari.” Rogue spoke softly, using Carrie’s Kryptonian name, her voice cracking in her own grief…a grief that was mirrored by the tears that flowed freely from Kara’s eyes. “There’s nothing more we can do here. You have got to carry Karen’s body through the time stream. Once we get back into our own time and our own probability, we can take her to her family on Daxam.”
“Can…” Carrie swallowed…or attempted to, rather. Her mouth had gone dry at the thought of navigating the time stream from this Rao-forsaken probability. “Can you two make it?” Though both Kara and Rogue were putting on a good show…for her benefit…it was clear that both were gravely injured.
“We’ll make it.” Kara tried to smile, wincing at the pain the action caused.
Carrie waited until both Kara and Rogue had entered the Time Stream, in a manner they had never entered before. This time they had entered hand in hand.
She took a deep breath and started off, quickly picking up the speed needed and adjusting her vibrations…and entered the Time Stream.
The journey was long and hard, the tides of time buffeting her to and fro, always seeking to throw her off course. So it was with a sigh of relief that she reached her calculated drop out point…and re entered her own time…in the sky above the Metropolis of her Earth.
“Kara? Rogue?” Carrie looked around, fear rising in her heart. “Mom?” She spun and flew a wide swath in the sky…her telescopic and x-ray vision playing through the air and along the ground below.
“Carrie!”
It was the double toned voice she had come to associate with Senturia so she was not surprised to see the composite Sentinel drifting up from the planet surface.
“Kara! Rogue!” She demanded. “Did they make it? Are they okay?”
“Carrie, you and the burden you carry are the only ones to exit the time stream.”
“NO…” Carrie shook her head wildly. “They had to have made it…They…”
The composite being split and both Jenny and Arisia approached her, their faces showing their feelings…and their fears…clearly.
“No….” Carrie cried as Arisia took Karen’s body and Jenny pulled the young Kryptonian, young compared to her at least, into a comforting embrace…
“…were lost in the time stream.” Santel concluded. “That much is in the records. Carrie, or Kari as you call her, returned Kori’s body to Daxam and then, after a triple memorial service, returned to Earth. According to the records, she never entered the Time Stream again. Nor did she ever travel to any other probability or sector within the Continuum. And she never set foot on Daxam again.”
“She did.” Kat corrected. “She came twice, just to visit the memorials and then to attend the memorial services for Zor-El and Allura.” She shook her head. “But according to the records, she was never the same. She…changed. Became more aloof. Some believed that she was becoming mentally unstable near the end. Finally…she just disappeared. No farewell, no grand battle…just gone.” She looked up. “But what has this got to do with my psych profile?”
“Everything, Kat.” Santel stood. “Karen…Kori…was suffering from extreme depression…because she was denying her own…call it destiny. That depression ended the instant she donned her uniform…and Power Woman flew once again…if only for one last time. Now look at Kari. You mentioned her mental stability. There is every reason to believe that those rumors were true. She was losing it, Kat. Why? Because Kori was dead.”
“The empathic bond!” Kat concluded, causing Santel to nod.
“The empathic bond. Now turn it around…what would have happened to Kori had she not gone back into action…and it had been Kari to die?”
“She…she would have snapped.” Kat thought it through. “With the depression, the loss of the bond would have been too much for her.”
“Exactly.” Santel crossed her arms. “Kat, we have enough studies to show that persons with Psych profiles similar to yours can no more deny who and what they are than an ant can deny it is an ant! Doing so can, and does, cause mental damage. Sometimes severe damage.”
“You’re saying I have no choice.”
“No, I am saying you have a limited choice.” Santel pointed out. “You can do what ever you want. But you have to do something. You have to use what you have to the best of your ability. You can do nothing less. You can’t and won’t allow yourself to do any thing less. But how and when you choose to use that ability is strictly up to you.” She started for the door to the bedroom and stopped. “Whatever you decide to do, you need to decide quickly. It’s time to stop playing at it, Kat.” She shook her head. “Now I need you to go over those records, see if anything is out of whack and make corrections. Quickly. We’ll be leaving for the space port in a couple of hours.”
“The space port?”
“The space port.” Santel nodded, ignoring the first inquiry. “We have to be there when the new Daxamite Ambassador arrives.”
She left, leaving Kat with more questions than answers.
MVP1-SLSH3
Once in the elevator that would take her back down to her own level, Santel placed shaking hands on the doors and rested her forehead on the cool metal.
That had been too close.
“I can’t do this. Not any more.” She had pleaded with them.
“Just one more time.” They had responded, not unsympathetically. “You are uniquely qualified for this one.”
So she had agreed. One more time. And after this? What then? Another? And another after that?
She backed up until her back touched the elevator wall behind her and allowed herself to slide down, her hands balled and pressed to her eyes.
The memories…the faces…the names…the voices of the past threatened to overwhelm her. Too much…if only she could forget…just a little.
But no. It was not her nature. No matter how much she wished it, it was not something that could be done. She could not…would not…forget.
Already the strain was showing.
She had done all she could. Put on the proper face. Feigned ignorance where appropriate, disgust where expected, unconcern when she wanted nothing more than to cry out and….
She shook her head, taking a deep breath.
“Garth!”
Garth Ranzz opened his eyes as the hand in his squeezed tightly.
After a short layover at Lunopolis, the three, himself; Imra Ardeen; and his sister, Ayla Ranzz, had boarded the next shuttle scheduled for an Earth landing at Metropolis Space Port.
After a bit of wrangling with another passenger, they had managed to get Imra’s assigned seat changed to be adjacent to theirs. And so now she sat between them…trying ever so subtly to wake him.
“Hmmm?” He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, looking around for the source of her anxiety.
“Shhh.” She leaned over and stage whispered. Seeing something was up, Ayla leaned over her, trying to listen in.
“Look at me.” Imra ordered. “Don’t look anywhere else. And keep your mind blank. You too, Ayla.” The two tried to do as she said and she closed her eyes. “Slowly…..slowly…..there.” She opened her eyes and looked at Garth.
“What’s up?” He asked, trying to act nonchalant.
“I just extended my shields to cover the two of you.” Imra explained. “There’s a peeper on board.”
“A peeper?” Garth and Ayla exchanged glances and Imra sighed.
“A peeper.” She repeated. “Not a true telepath…whoever it is can’t communicate mentally. They can only read the surface thoughts of others. They can’t go deeper nor can they send their thoughts to others.”
“Okay. And what is this…peeper…doing that alarmed you?” Ayla asked.
“She’s playing look out.” Imra said. “She’s trying to determine if anyone is paying that group up front any…undue…attention.”
“And were you?” Garth asked. Imra nodded.
“Just passive. Nothing intrusive that could be detected.” She stated. “And nothing that would alarm the peeper.”
“Okay…so let’s have it already.” Ayla demanded.
“That group that got on the shuttle last.” Imra began, waiting until the other two had nodded their understanding.
The shuttle had been preparing to lift when a group of thirty ‘tourists’ arrived. Running late. They had been allowed aboard, amidst a lot of hustling and confusion. The group had to be seated together, they had insisted. It was in their travel arrangements…and was it their fault if the Starline had screwed it up?
So they were bunched together, near the forward hatch. They would be the first ones off the shuttle once it landed at MSP.
“I am not quite sure how.” Imra whispered. “But I think they are armed.”
“They have weapons?” Ayla was aghast. “Aboard a shuttle?”
“Shhhh!” Imra closed her eyes for a moment and Garth, out of the corner of his eye, caught sight of a person near the front of the shuttle turning to scan the rows of passengers behind. When the person turned back to the front, Imra sighed and opened her eyes, looking at Ayla. “Calmly.” She whispered. “I have placed a passive shield over the three of us, but if you draw direct attention to us, that peeper will be able to see the shield.”
Ayla nodded her understanding and leaned closer.
“So what do we do?”
“Nothing.” Garth answered before Imra could form a reply. “We watch and wait. We can’t do anything that will endanger the other passengers. Besides, they are not interested in hurting anyone here. That would merely be an obstacle they don’t need. Nor would they want the exposure.”
“You know what they want?”
“I think so.” Garth nodded to the back of the seat before him that housed a small view screen. Framed within the tiny screen, a massive vessel floated in space, the Earth forming a beautiful green and blue backdrop for the scene.
“That’s a Daxamite Battle Cruiser!” Ayla breathed.
“It’s more than that.” Garth touched the controls beneath the screen, causing the image to enlarge. “See that light pattern they are running along the bow? That signifies that it is a Flag Vessel.”
“And this means what, exactly?” Imra was lost, though obviously impressed by the knowledge her new companions held.
“Flag Vessels are sometimes used to transport important government personages.” Ayla whispered. “…and where there is a Flag vessel…”
“There’s a battle fleet accompanying it.” Garth grimaced.
“A Daxamite Battle fleet?” Imra was aghast. “In the Sol system? But that…”
“The Daxamite Ambassador to the UP was recently assassinated on Earth.” Garth explained. “And he wasn’t just anyone…he was an El!”
“You think they are here to get revenge?” Imra asked, referring to the Battle Fleet.
“No.” Garth shook his head. “Most likely, they are here simply as a show of force…and to make sure nothing happens to the New Ambassador.” He shook his head. “Someone is trying to drive a wedge between UP members. And they seem to be aiming at the strongest members.”
“The Sol and Roxal systems.” Ayla nodded.
A dark haired woman in the front turned back to scan the passengers once again and Imra closed her eyes. When the woman’s attention returned to the front, she shook her head.
“No more talk.” She said. “Try not to think about any of this. It’ll make it easier to maintain the shield.” She sighed and looked at Garth. “Maintaining this form of shield over the three of us is difficult.” She said. “Harder than a regular shield. Let me handle this, and see what else I can learn. When we touch down, we can figure out what to do.”
Okay. She was here. Now what?
Jensia moved among the crowds. People preparing to depart for their final destinations here on Earth, others preparing to lift off to orbiting vessels and habitats, some on business, some for pleasure. Some leaving home for the first time, others leaving Earth to return to their homes.
The differences between the peoples, both human and non-human, fascinated her.
Golden skinned Venusians or Martians, the dark blue skinned inhabitants of Talok VIII, the light green skinned….
Jensia’s brow wrinkled. To the best of her knowledge, knowledge that had been pounded into her during her stay with the Green Lanterns on Oa, there was only one race of that particular hue of green…and one of them here was something of a shock.
The planet was Colu. A world enslaved by Super computers…the Machine Masters.
And the Machine Masters were not just masters of Colu…but of several surrounding systems. And no one…no one…ever came out of those systems.
She didn’t know if this young blond man was the reason she was here…but she was going to follow him and find out.
MVP1-SLSH3
“You could have at least given me a bit of warning.” Kat grumbled as Santel guided her flitter expertly through traffic, speeding towards the Space-port.
“I did give you warning.” Santel glanced towards her passenger and then re-focused on the route before her. “I told you this morning that we were going to the Space-Port.”
“You could have told me well before then that Daxam was sending a new Ambassador.” Kat accused. “You had to have known for several days.”
“Well, yes.” Santel admitted. “But the Ambassador isn’t coming from Daxam. He’s coming from Argo…and SHE was escorted by the 3rd Daxamite Fleet!”
“Argo!” Kat shot a look at the commissioner and then grabbed the armrests of her seat as the flitter dipped through the backwash of a freighter. “Wait a minute. A Daxam fleet? In the Sol system? That’s….”
“Against the Federation Accords, yes.” Santel nodded. “And several UP ambassadors and representatives to the council are being very vocal in their…outrage at this violation.”
“And the Kingdom of Sol? What are their representatives saying? What about the Queen?”
It had never ceased to amaze the Daxamites how the worlds in the Sol System had resurrected a Monarchy willingly disbanded in the early 21st century. After a final civil war that had left all three planets and the various colonies in the system gasping but united, the survivors had sought for a possible way to make sure no such war happened again. They would, in fact, need a single ruler. A ruler that did not rely upon a vote that could be rigged, or could be unfairly balanced. What they jointly decided was to restore the Royal House of Tamaran!
All they had to do was find an heir! And pray to the goods that he or she had not been a victim in the recent wars that had ravaged the three major worlds.
And find her they did! And to the delight of the seekers, she was extremely well qualified! By blood and by intelligence and honor!
Of course, by that time, after almost four hundred years, it was no surprise, to find that the one remaining heiress to the throne, descended from the sister of the last King…Koriand’r…was not Tamaran at all. In fact, the heiress was more than acceptable by all sides because she could truthfully claim blood ties with the Venusians…those that had once been Tamarans, with the Martians, or the descendents of the refugees from Graxos IV, and with Earth!
And so, at the insistence of the heiress, the council agreed to form a Constitutional Monarchy. This gave the Queen power, but, as the heiress had fully intended, put definite limits on that power. In essence, power was split three ways. The Queen was, of course, the Administrative branch. The House of Lords and the House of Commons together made up the Legislative Branch. The Judicial Branch was made up of Judges and administrators appointed by the Queen. The Legislative Branch was the check on the Queen’s power…while she and the Judicial Branch were the check on the power of the Legislative Branch.
“The Queen is walking a tight-rope and the reps are falling in behind her like good little lap dogs.” Santel snorted, causing Kat to give her a look. “She can’t afford to allow all of this to come between the Kingdom of Sol and the Kryptonian Worlds.”
Kat smiled at that. While Daxam may have retained its name…and many of the current generation considered themselves Daxamites, The El family had been able to push through that bit of legislature. The worlds of Daxam and her first colony, New Krypton, in the Roxal System and the planet Argo in the ancient home system, Rao, and any future colonies would be gathered together under the title of the Kryptonian Worlds.
“But neither can she allow this…show…to go unmentioned.” Santel concluded. “All Member systems of the UPF are allowed, under the accords, to retain a home fleet for defensive purposes. Once out of the home system, however, the fleet should fall under UPF Command.”
“I take it 3rd fleet failed to relinquish command?” Kat mused.
“Not only did they refuse to surrender command, they blatantly told UPComCent to go to Xerist.” Santel sighed.
“The Kryptonian equivalent of Hell.” Kat sighed, picturing people at UP Command Central scurrying to dig up definitions of Xerist.
“Exactly.” Santel nodded. “Needless to say, ComCent didn’t take the…suggestion…very well. She shrugged. “So you see: we have a bit of a situation.”
“I would say so.” Kat gave the commissioner a questioning look. “So what does this have to do with us? Forgive me for pointing this out, but I am just a lowly Sec-Pol Officer and you, while higher on the rung, are simply the Sec-Pol Commissioner of a single city.”
“Let’s just say that I tend to run in higher circles.” Santel evaded. “But even so, this IS my city and the Space Port falls under my jurisdiction, as does the Embassy Enclave.” She stood. “Your father’s murder was just another step in trying to undermine the relations between the Kryptonian Worlds and the Kingdom of Sol. The new Ambassador’s arrival, complete with a fully primed war fleet, would be too big a chance to pass up.”
“You think some one is going to try to kill the Ambassador at the Spaceport.”
“Try is the operative word.” Santel responded. “We, you and I, are going to see what we can do to make sure the whatever attempt is made does not succeed.
She lost him!
Jensia scanned the crowd around her, her eyes pausing on every blond head she came to long enough to ascertain that they did not have the pale green pigmentation of the young man she had been following. Nothing.
“Perhaps, if you told me why you have been following me around the space port, I might be able to help.”
Jensia whirled to see the green skinned Coluan standing behind her, waiting patiently.
“Interesting.” The young man said. “Your skin coloring, while quite attractive, is not natural. Not caused by pigmentation.” He consulted a small hand held device and nodded. “Gamma radiation.” He mused. “It seems to infuse your cells. And yet, everything about you screams Green Lantern. I thought they had been banned from The Kingdom of Sol.”
“You’re scanning me?” Jensia clenched her fists.
“Why not?” The young man shrugged his shoulders. “You were the one following me, remember?” He actually smiled. “Though I can guess your reasons. But I don’t know who you’re working for.”
“No one.” Jensia forced herself to relax. He was right. She had followed him, invaded his privacy, so she had no right to be upset when he turned the tables. “And though I’ve been to Oa, I am not a Green Lantern.”
“Oh?” The young man consulted his device, his face as devoid of emotion as it had been through the entire conversation. “Interesting. These readings insist that you are. Or…” His eyes narrowed and he looked up. “Impossible. There hasn’t been one for nearly a thousand Earth years!”
“There is now.” Jensia smiled easily, letting a slight green glow escape from her otherwise red eyes.
“But that’s….” He stopped, shaking his head. “I need more data.” He mumbled. Then, talking plainly. “But now is not the time. Do what ever it is you think you have to do, but I have a shuttle to meet.”
“Why?” Jensia pounced. “You said you could figure out why I was following you. So tell me…why is a Coluan skulking around an Earth Space Port?”
The young man sighed.
“I don’t have time for this. And you wouldn’t understand anyway.”
“Try me.” Jensia let him hear the menace in her voice and allowed the glow in her eyes to flare even brighter.”
“Damnit.” The Coluan looked around, pausing as he scanned the shuttle arrival notices. “Fine. But you are going to have to follow me…I have a shuttle to meet.”
He started off and Jensia, caught off guard, hurried to catch up. She saw the direction they were going and hid a smile.
“Are you sure you’re going in the right direction?” She asked, “The gate to the Daxamite shuttle is in the other direction.”
“I am not here to see the Ambassador.” The Coluan retorted. “I’m here to try and save his life. It’s that shuttle coming in from Luna that I am worried about.”
“Why? Who’s on that shuttle?”
“Rebels.” The Coluan spat. He turned his head towards her as they walked. “Yes, I know, hypocritical of me. But there is a major difference.”
“What in Hades name are you talking about?” Jensia’s voice pattern altered slightly, dropping into the more comfortable speech mode used by the Amazons.
“Surely you know that I am not the only Coluan on Earth.” He snorted. “There’s a whole community. Refugees. Would-be rebels against the Machine Lords that have enslaved our world.” He turned his attention back to their path. “And yet here I am, out to stop another group of rebels…rebels that want to destroy the only entity that may one day be able to free my people!” He stopped and for the first time he showed something besides a blank face. He showed determination. “Understand that I am not here for any altruistic purpose. I don’t give a damn about the Daxamite ambassador. I only know that if the UP falls apart, Colu and the other worlds enslaved by the Machine Masters will have lost their last hope for eventually shaking off the chains of slavery!” He continued and then stopped short as they reached the gate that had been their destination.
He stood with Jensia, staring as the attendants and workers in the area slowly went about their clean up, closing down.
“We’re too late!” He slumped. “The shuttle has been here and gone.” He looked at Jensia. “That means there are at least twenty killers loose in this space port. All with one target…the Daxamite Ambassador!”
MVP1-SLSH3
“Garth?” Imra and Ayla exchanged glances as they followed Garth through the space port.
“We can’t lose them.” Garth hissed back over his shoulder.
“Hold up.” Ayla caught his arm. “What are you planning, Garth? Don’t you think you should let us in on it?”
“They’re after the Daxamite Ambassador.” Garth responded, telling them something they both already knew. “We can’t let that happen. He dies, and that will be the end of good relations between the Kingdom of Sol and the Kryptonian Worlds. Those two are the backbone. The foundation which supports the rest of the UPF. If they fall apart, how long do you think it will be before the rest of the UPF shatters? And what then? The UPF is all that has stood between Winrath and the Coluan Empire and the Khunds for years.”
“Garth, it’s not that simple.” Imra laid a hand on his shoulder. “You never asked me why I was coming to Earth.”
He looked at her and waited.
“I was contacted by the Metropolis Sec-Pol Commissioner.” She sighed. “There are factions within the Kingdom of Sol…and within the Kryptonian Worlds…that want nothing more than for relations between the two to sour. In fact, if the two ended up in open war, those factions would be ecstatic.”
“Which has what to do with you?” Garth demanded.
“The commisioner wanted me to help track down those factions.” Imra admitted. “You are right, we have to stop this group…but there will be another one after them…and another after that. Do you plan on trying to stop all of them?”
“Why not?” Garth turned and continued walking, the other two falling in on either side. “I think I just might be uniquely qualified to do something along those lines.”
Imra remained silent. She had been in his mind, knew what he knew…knew what both he and Ayla were. She found she could only agree.
MVP1-SLSH3
Kat felt decidedly out of place as she scurried to keep up with the Commissioner. Normally she would have no problem. But in this case, she was not quite as familiar with the space port as Santel. And Santel knew exactly where they were going.
They passed other Sec-Pol officers patrolling the area, their side-arms holstered and heavy duty blaster rifles carried at port arms. A few Kat recognized and she nodded towards them, sometimes getting a nod in return, but more often than not, a questioning look was the response.
Santel, for her part, was frowning at the officers as they passed. Finally she stopped and approached one. Senior Officer Terreli, if Kat remembered correctly. The name tag on the officer’s uniform confirmed her guess, she saw, as they drew closer.
“SO Terreli!” Santel began in a conversational tone. “Would you mind telling me why you and your people are patrolling the outer corridors? Shouldn’t you actually be at the Ambassador’s arrival gate?”
SO Terreli gave Santel a confused look.
“Ma’am?” He shook his head. “The Captain assigned these patrols as per your orders.”
“Excuse me?” Santel shook her head. “I gave no such orders. In fact, my orders were for all of your people to form a defensive ring around the arrival gate!”
“I’m sorry, Ma’am.” The SO withdrew a compad and offered it to Santel. “Here are the orders, transmitted by the Captain!”
“Damn.” Santel handed the pad to Kat for her to take a look.
“They are the Captains orders.” Kat nodded. “But he only states that he is passing on your orders…he doesn’t actually show any such orders.”
“He doesn’t need to.” Santel snarled. “All he had to do was give the troops something so they wouldn’t suspect.”
“Suspect what, Commissioner?” The SO was gripping his rifle with white knuckles, aware that, somehow, he and his men had been thrust into the middle of a potentially sticky political matter. Being in such places was not good for one’s career.
“SO, I am hereby placing you in charge of all space port Officers.” Santel told him, sending out the appropriate commands from her own compad. “You are to get your people together and get to the Ambassador’s arrival gate as quickly as you can. You will, until you receive further orders from me, ignore all communications from Sec-Pol Headquarters.”
“But the Captain….”
“Your Captain is either a traitor or, more likely, dead and replaced by a Durlan terrorist.” Santel snapped. “Now get moving. We’ll go on ahead. Come on, Kent.”
Kat shrugged at the SO and hurried to follow Santel.
Once in the Gate areas proper, Santel paused to get her bearings and then hurried off, nearly jogging as she tried to reach the Ambassador’s arrival gate.
“Damnit!” Santel cursed, breaking into a full run as she spotted the Ambassador’s party emerging from the docking tube.
“DEATH TO THE UPF!”
Santel nearly faltered as several plasma bolts from the welcoming crowd stabbed forth….
They were too late!
End of A New Generation part 3
-- Story written and copyrighted (C) 2005 by Dylan Clearbrook
-- and may not be reprinted without permission.