Last Daughter of Krypton: Legion IC

[ChasNicollette]

Teen Lantern. Legion Plaza.

"You said it. Well until The Green Lantern... Miz Greystone arrives, someone's bound to ask what these sta-"

'Attention, all active and reserve Legionaries are to assemble in the Assembly Hall. Members on missions are to return at the earliest after completion, wounded members keep in contact via rings until released from sickbay. Retired members attend via comlink or ring. This is a full mustering of the Legion.'

Caroline stared silently at her ring for a moment.

"Fuck."

...which seemed very much to be the word of the day, as it continued to sum up Rond Vidar's sentiments exactly.

Rond smiled a lopsided, wary smile. Glanced at the "statues."

"They, uh," he pondered, "they can probably take care of themselves, huh?"

"And I probably don't want to play hooky for a 'full mustering' if it means I get my provisional Ring licences revoked."

He took a deep breath.

"...which way to the Assembly Hall?"

 

[ChasNicollette]

Ceriel. Brande's quarters.

The Martian Manhunter said nothing in response. He had been as surprised as they were at the sudden appearance of The Ring.

He stood there in his Manhunter uniform, saying nothing, his face an unreadable mask of......J'onn.

And then, one of his brows lifted ever-so-slightly as he turned his head just perceptibly towards Ceri and Wraith.

"Yes," he answered, "the question is obvious."

Silence for a moment.

It was curious to breathe again. Ceriel held her breath.

"They require an answer," he stated in a low voice.

'You must choose,' Ceriel found herself quoting inwardly, words that Chloe and Rose had often quoted, 'but choose wisely.'

J'onn J'onzz of the Manhunters of Mars reached for The Ring.

Even before he could grasp it, the Ring settled itself on the middle finger of his left hand.

Her crimson eyes widened for a moment.

Interesting.

He's technically asexual, he's obviously ambidextrous, anyone with full control of their molecular structure couldn't possibly be limited to a dominant hand.

And yet.

It went right to his left hand.

Just like Elizabeth.

She smiled softly. And bowed her head in expectation of a prayer.

The Martian Manhunter, solemnly and quietly, recited The Oath.

"In fearful day, in raging night,
With strong hearts full, our souls ignite,
When all seems lost in the War of Light,
Look to the stars-- For hope burns bright!"

And Ceriel replied, with clarity and grace: "Amen."

And, in another voice, the Voice of Mars that had so long carried the weight of justice and law, he said:

"The Legion assembles in the Conference Room," he told them. "I must go."

And with that, he faded through the floor.

Ceriel reflected for a moment that she would have to use doors and lifts for the time being.

She shrugged. It was a decent trade-off. She couldn't've hugged Wraith, otherwise.

Well that was.. interesting.

"Think they have a good dental plan?" I asked the angel next to me.

Ceriel laughed softly. "I think R.J. Brande can afford his own dental work, don't you?"

(Ceriel reflected, momentarily, on the orthodontics of Heaven, and then smiled a soft little smile to herself.)

I stepped back and looked at Ceri. "Things are progressing here faster than I like. I am going to go get the others from Shadow and bring them here.

Oh, just a heads up, James is there. He calls himself 'The Doctor' now and looks a little different. Also has two hearts.

Still the same James. His words chase their tail around the room a while before he starts making sense, but when he does you better listen.

Back in a few with the kiddies."

I called upon Shadow and left Earth...

Ceriel smiled a deeper, wider smile to herself.

"Yes, Kyle," she explained to an empty room. "I know that James is alive. I know that he's more than the being he once was."

"Jamie Hamilton held my hand as I died."

"And I held his as he lay dying in his room, a dear old man."

"I'm the one that reminded him to open that watch."

 

[ChasNicollette]

The Doctor, VM3, GL 2261. Shadow.

"You're part of a story, Jaymie Greystone," The Doctor intoned, like a declaration, like an invocation, like a benediction. "One that isn't over yet."

"Just you wait and see."

Jaymie nodded for a moment, and then stood up tall, The Doctor's coat billowing around her smaller frame.

"Okay. New chapter."

"That's the spirit," Liz inclined her head, appreciatively.

The Doctor turned, then, a curious expression on his face. He sniffed the air significantly. "Here he comes. (I never get tired of this entrance.)"

And then the patches of dim and dark in the room swirled together as though possessed, as though made to dance by some hidden and godsforsaken fancy, and from the whirling swirling moaning space of black, there arose Wraith.

But not J'onn.

Liz frowned. "Dad. What's going--"

"Change of plans, J'onn called a full muster of the Legion, so war council is happening there. Dad, you coming with me or on your own? you got here by yourself so I figure you can leave if you want."

The Doctor ran his tongue over his teeth. "Yeah. Dun want to leave me ship here overlong; I've tapped into residual chronal anomalies which'll keep her running here in the absence of the primary cosmos' energies, but I don't want to risk that running out prematurely thanks to Shadow's advanced temporal progression."

He grinned softly. "Just tell your mates on the wall not to zing me with an arrow on the way out. (I had enough of that in Shakespeare's day.)"

"He had a tiff with a namesake of mine," Liz harrumphed.

The Doctor rubbed behind his ear, looking a little embarrassed. "Yes. Well. Royalty. That's all a bit--"

He coughed, and righted himself.

Turning to regard Jonah and The Ghost of Merick Past, The Doctor became more serious, and a little bit distant.

"If they're assembling the whole Legion Roll Call, Jonah," The Doctor mused, "mightn't you want to bring in your people on Steeple? They'll be prevented from receiving any signals by that pesky black hole activity. I imagine Merick's abilities won't be nearly so confounded."

Jaymie tapped The Doctor on the shoulder, and handed him his coat back, looking terribly sheepish.

"Could we also drop me off at my room, or at least get me some trousers or a kilt or something? I'm not exactly in Legion dress-code."

"Oh," The Doctor nodded, shrugging back into his coat, "yeah. That, too. Can't have you running around having adventures in your nightie."

 

[ChasNicollette]

M'onel. Magdelena's quarters.

“Are you alright?” Allana asked, the door opening for Alfred. As it rolled in with appendages outstretched, and draped with several garments, she watched M’onel, her eyes watching his face, the way he averted his eyes, and turned red.

The way M'onel was keeping himself in check, he didn't immediately present as though he had heard her.

Collecting the robe from the mechanoid she slipped it on, the shimmering white clothe concealing her form, and the fine – nearly invisible – tattoo’s that marked her flesh.

M'onel's many powers under a yellow sun included micro-vision. If he concentrated hard enough, he could see the subatomic level. Yeah, he'd seen Allana's tattoos. He'd even counted them.

Though he'd likely not soon forgive himself for lingering so long. It had only been seconds, but for a sentient with superspeed, that sort of delay could be a lifetime.

“Are you, embarrassed, by nudity? I have shared apothecarion beds with wounded comrades, both male and female. The bathing facilities are not separated, nor are living facilities. Civilians, serf, peasants, they have separated facilities. But knights, who live, breathe, and die with their comrades, their brother, and sister, knights. They do not have the freedom of living apart. We eat together, we die together. By my oaths, and my status as a Celestial Knight I am allowed certain liberties. One of them is a place to sleep and pray alone.”

Lar Gand shook his head, not yet speaking, not yet turning. He had spent an eternity in The Phantom Zone with Raya Ro-Zan, and had fallen for her. They had shared a tent and she had nursed his unhealing, unworsening wounds... but they had never... they had never...

...there had always been that subtle yet profound delineation.

There had always been that reserve.

They had cohabitated for an eternity and never strayed into intimacy because he kept his hands and his eyes to himself even though his heart was hers; her heart belonged to another.

Reaching out she collected a sword from the back of the armour, belting it to her waist. Adjusting the robes slightly, she made sure the silver trimmed hem brushed the floor. Satisfied she slipped her hands into the opposite sleaves. “If my actions, or words, are inappropriate, or make you uncomfortable. Inform me, and I shall endeavor to alter them to a less disconcerting pattern.”

Collecting the food tray from the servitor drone, she began eating, Although for the moment she was sticking to fruits, or rather what she hoped was fruits.

And then, lost in thought as he'd been, he got to the part where what he was saying might have two meanings. Perhaps fortunately, she took this at face value.

“Yes, a lesser graviton field will take some adaptation on my part I suppose. Althought the atmosphere is also more, polluted with chemicals than I am used to. Has my testing been assigned as yet?” She asked as the servitor maneuvered back out the room and into the hall.

He blinked, and came back to himself, and glanced over and found her clothed and dining. He took a deep breath and, keeping his distance, he shook his head.

"Gravity, yeah. Takes... adapting. Pollution? Well. That depends on the pollutants, I guess. Your testing? Not that I know of."

Lar quietly evaluated their conversation.

"I'm not... offended," Lar clarified. "I'm charged to cherish all life and cultural distinctiveness, so long as it does not directly contravene interstellar law or threaten either innocent civilian life or the lives of my comrades."

He shrugged. "But Daxam was run by a bunch of old fogeys before I left, and they had some pretty clear rules about when a lad was to look upon a lady. I was always... kind of an iconoclast. Kind of a rebel. 'Eat it, Grandpa.'"

Lar smiled faintly. "But I'm learning more and more that that old code must've rubbed off on me."

He closed his eyes. "I did a lot of travelling. Once. And my convoy... ran into a bunch of Tamaranean pilgrims. Heh. Their rules about wearing clothes are even less stringent than yours between your knights. I suppose I should try to stop being so... conservative."

Those eyes opened again, an unearthly blue. "But neither should I disrespect you. And I'm sorry: according to my personal code, I've disrespected and dishonoured you by not turning immediately away."

Glancing down at his hands, his battle-hardened hands, his face took on a thoughtful cast. "It takes awhile to forge ties so close with those you fight beside. You'll get your chance to get that 'war-buddy bond' with all of us. Unless I miss my guess."

"You'll get your chance. We all will."

Then M'onel's Flight Ring chirped.

And then Rokk Krinn's voice resounded.

'Attention, all active and reserve Legionaries are to assemble in the Assembly Hall. Members on missions are to return at the earliest after completion, wounded members keep in contact via rings until released from sickbay. Retired members attend via comlink or ring. This is a full mustering of the Legion.'

M'onel blinked. And then glanced at Allana.

"...huh."

"Seems like your initiation's going to be a field op after all."

"Grab your meal to go?"

 

[Wyldfire]

Medbay, Geardome.

'Attention, all active and reserve Legionaries are to assemble in the Assembly Hall. Members on missions are to return at the earliest after completion, wounded members keep in contact via rings until released from sickbay. Retired members attend via comlink or ring. This is a full mustering of the Legion.'

Vi startled out of her own musings at this. Dawnstar's weirdness would definately have to wait. Turning to Jan she said "Give me a hand please? I need to wake up Gim, he's just under so he wouldn't be uncomfortable while his burns heal. Think you could convert some of his plasma into a mild stimulant?" Normally she wouldn't ask Jan to do this sort of thing but this was the kind of call that could get her to.

She thought a minute or so about the rest in the 'Bay. Ord wasn't a Legionnaire, but he was a major powerhouse. His condition was improving by the moment thanks to his duplicating T-Wolf's healing factor. Then there was Dawny. Let her heal or stim her up with Gim?

"Cos, I'm sending Collosal boy up with Element lad. Should I also wake up Duplicate boy? I'm sure he's got an axe to grind. I can't come up yet myself until Dawnstar's on the move with her new new improved Thanagarian looking threads."

In her dome Shvaughn shifted her perception through the headquarters systems and brought the holo image that she'd slipped into the Gear rig online in the main conference room. It was an image that had fallen into her lap at S.P. headquarters. It was a bit of history that the sergeant down in archives had found. It was from the big bad old days. The days of Caroline's ancestress. It seemed a bit appropriate that the "face" of the pasts League's Oracle be with the Legion of today. "Gear present and accounted for."

 

[Varshanka]

'Attention, all active and reserve Legionaries are to assemble in the Assembly Hall. Members on missions are to return at the earliest after completion, wounded members keep in contact via rings until released from sickbay. Retired members attend via comlink or ring. This is a full mustering of the Legion.'

M'onel blinked. And then glanced at Allana.

"...huh."

"Seems like your initiation's going to be a field op after all."

"Grab your meal to go?"

Without a moment’s hesitation, Allana was moving, her hand thrusting the servitor unit from her path as she pushed through the door, a piece of fruit still in her hand. With her free hand she spun in place, grabbing another piece of fruit and a sandwich. Hopefully it wasn’t deadly.

Rushing from the room and dawn the hall she called back, “Better keep up, Valor awaits no one who sits and waits for action.”

Taking steps two at a time she virtually flew, before she slowed to a stop and looked around. “Where is the meeting?” she asked to know one in particular. Without the Machine Spirit she had no map, and hadn’t been here nearly long enough to learn the layout.

 

[TearsoftheWorld]

"They, uh," he pondered, "they can probably take care of themselves, huh?"

"Probably," Caroline agreed.

She hadn't taken on any Guardians herself and she pretty sure she didn't want to either.

Luckily they were all on the same side.

Different teams, maybe, but all working towards the same goal.

"And I probably don't want to play hooky for a 'full mustering' if it means I get my provisional Ring licenses revoked. Which way to the Assembly Hall?"

"This way," Powergirl added, taking off at breakneck speed away from the Legion Plaza and towards the greater Assembly Hall.

"I wonder what's going on," she mused aloud.

Things were happening very quickly. There was always some source of conflict, but things felt different.

It was exciting.

It did not take long before Powergirl reached a set of ornate doors that led into the Assembly Hall. On the doors were carvings of various legends of old, the very sort of men and women that defined what it meant to be a hero. They swung open automatically when she approached, and they remained open until everyone was gathered within.

As fast as she was, Caroline was not the first one inside.

She came face to face with the Martian Manhunter.

Caroline considered herself a fairly educated individual and her Kryptonian heritage granted her a pretty damn good memory, but for the life of her she couldn't figure out who he was.

Or what he was.

 

[AmenRa]

As fast as she was, Caroline was not the first one inside.

She came face to face with the Martian Manhunter.

Caroline considered herself a fairly educated individual and her Kryptonian heritage granted her a pretty damn good memory, but for the life of her she couldn't figure out who he was.

Or what he was.

The Martian Manhunter's face softened slightly as Caroline entered and nearly bumped into him.

He heard her unspoken question. Not with telepathy, but with a simple reading of her face.

What the hell are you?

With a nod, J'onn J'onzz indicated the opposite wall where the statues of the legendary heroes of Earth stood in silent remembrance.

The Batman.

The Wonder Woman.

Supergirl.

There was one missing.

He was that one.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Element Lad. Medbay.

'Attention, all active and reserve Legionaries are to assemble in the Assembly Hall. Members on missions are to return at the earliest after completion, wounded members keep in contact via rings until released from sickbay. Retired members attend via comlink or ring. This is a full mustering of the Legion.'

Vi startled out of her own musings at this.

Jan finished a prayer, and stood up a bit straighter, his hands in his sleeves, turning to Salu, utter solemnity on his features.

Turning to Jan she said "Give me a hand please? I need to wake up Gim, he's just under so he wouldn't be uncomfortable while his burns heal. Think you could convert some of his plasma into a mild stimulant?"

Jan considered this for a moment. "I suppose, technically, it is possible. While I cannot manipulate the elements of living matter, plasma, technically, would not itself be composed of living cells."

He inclined his head and, placing a palm on an undamaged part of Allon's skin, he murmured. "I will need a moment."

He closed his eyes, and probed, finding the capillaries wending their way through the surface of Allon's epidermis, finding the unliving matter which carried those living cells throughout the sometime giant's body.

Vi was talking to Cosmic Boy, and Jan concentrated harder, tightening his inward focus.

"I cannot raise the dead," he murmured, "nor heal the sick with the laying-on of hands. Nor can I forgive sins. But I can say to you, Gim Allon--"

And with a shimmer and a flicker, micrograms of Allon's plasma transmuted alchemically into the equivalent of a biological power-surge, a wake-up call.

"--rise and walk."

 

[ChasNicollette]

M'onel. Residential.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Allana was moving, her hand thrusting the servitor unit from her path as she pushed through the door, a piece of fruit still in her hand. With her free hand she spun in place, grabbing another piece of fruit and a sandwich. Hopefully it wasn’t deadly.

Rushing from the room and dawn the hall she called back, “Better keep up, Valor awaits no one who sits and waits for action.”

Lar Gand got a bit of a tangled face at that. Still a coincidence. Has to be. But I do wish The Universe would stop beating me over the head with it.

He made for the door, he could hear her foosteps, at a glance found her around corners, she'd reached a set of stairs...

"I disagree," he murmured. "'They also serve who only stand and wait.' Your ancestors taught me that."

Taking steps two at a time she virtually flew, before she slowed to a stop and looked around. “Where is the meeting?” she asked to know one in particular. Without the Machine Spirit she had no map, and hadn’t been here nearly long enough to learn the layout.

She asked no-one in particular, but he could hear her, heightened senses, and all of a sudden in a blur of movement he was there beside her, his blue cape shuddering in the breeze, like he'd materialised instantaneously from some terribly windy place.

This could prove disconcerting. A superspeed individual appearing out of nowhere was one of the few things that could rattle Shvaughn in her boots.

It might not; Allana seemed unsurprised by anything except that people were surprised by her.

But he stood there beside her, and he inclined his head in the direction of a lift.

"Right this way."

And with clarity and grace, he led her there.

 

[Varshanka]

Magdalena - dormitory hallway and Great Hall

Without a moment’s hesitation, Allana was moving, her hand thrusting the servitor unit from her path as she pushed through the door, a piece of fruit still in her hand. With her free hand she spun in place, grabbing another piece of fruit and a sandwich. Hopefully it wasn’t deadly.

Rushing from the room and dawn the hall she called back, “Better keep up, Valor awaits no one who sits and waits for action.”

Lar Gand got a bit of a tangled face at that. Still a coincidence. Has to be. But I do wish The Universe would stop beating me over the head with it.

He made for the door, he could hear her foosteps, at a glance found her around corners, she'd reached a set of stairs...

"I disagree," he murmured. "'They also serve who only stand and wait.' Your ancestors taught me that."

Taking steps two at a time she virtually flew, before she slowed to a stop and looked around. “Where is the meeting?” she asked to know one in particular. Without the Machine Spirit she had no map, and hadn’t been here nearly long enough to learn the layout.

She asked no-one in particular, but he could hear her, heightened senses, and all of a sudden in a blur of movement he was there beside her, his blue cape shuddering in the breeze, like he'd materialised instantaneously from some terribly windy place.

A hand twitched, a shoulder dipped, a flare of light rippling along her left arm, almost as if she’d caught fire for the briefest of micro-moments. A flashing ripple of the sensation of flames flickering and gone.

But he stood there beside her, and he inclined his head in the direction of a lift.

"Right this way."

Watching him through peripheral vision, Allana walked, matching his pace. Her bare feet soundless on the cold floor even as the hem of her initiates robe whispered as it brushed the floor.

And with clarity and grace, he led her there.

Moving into the room she looked upon the triad of statues, noting the similarity of triads, or a trinity, in many aspects of human, and inhuman cultures. Stepping to the side she watched, listened, and waited, waited for decisions even as she watched the faces and people around her.

Waited for the Legion to assemble. Wondering if perhaps she should have remained in armour after all. But standing here as an initiate, a novice once more, was a humbling event, and a Knight must always be humble.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Teen Lantern. Legion Plaza, Assembly Hall.

"They, uh," he pondered, "they can probably take care of themselves, huh?"

"Probably," Caroline agreed.

"And I probably don't want to play hooky for a 'full mustering' if it means I get my provisional Ring licenses revoked. Which way to the Assembly Hall?"

"This way," Powergirl added, taking off at breakneck speed away from the Legion Plaza and towards the greater Assembly Hall.

Rond blinked, and she was gone.

He took a step forward, and she was just... a cloud of dust marked her passing.

Glancing back at the immobile Fists of The Guardians, Rond felt more than a little self-conscious. As though they were staring at him.

He cleared his throat, and looked down at both his fists.

"Hey," he wondered. "Can you guys work together on this?"

"Locate Legionnaire Powergirl. Plot safe flightpath. Engage."

*Compliance.*

The Green Lantern Ring sparked emerald light for a moment as it interacted with the omnicom technology embedded in the Legion Flight Ring.

And then, for the second time that day, Rond Vidar found himself being dragged at mind-boggling speed through the air after a lovely airborne young lady.

His mind screamed for a moment as he saw the walls and the people shrieking past him, he saw a man in a chef's hat and sunglasses spilling ice cream everywhere, tourists juggling holocams, they were there and blink they were gone--

--he skidded to a halt in a puff of green dust just behind Caroline, as she was gazing inquisitively upon a similarly verdant humanoid of uncertain speciation.

Rond hesitated.

And then his mouth went dry as the humanoid turned a significant look to the statued Trinity that adorned the rear wall.

"Oh..." his masked eyes wide, he clapped his left hand to his dark-haired head and he licked his lips in a fidgety sort of way.

He didn't even notice that in the presence of the green gentleman's Blue Ring, his own training-wheeled Green Lantern Ring was experiencing a sudden... spike.

(*Power levels 172% and rising.*)

All he could see was a blurry archival photo of a being in a Daily Planet London article salvaged by The Time Institute over two hundred years ago, before a certain set of isles was driven beneath the ocean.

An article from the rise of The Great Age of Heroes, as it was reckoned by mainstream historians.

An article in which this being, this ancient creature, claimed to have been brought across not just space but time by the unwitting brilliance of an Earth scientist of the AD 1950's, the last half-century of M1.

This being had been all but forgotten to history, save for snippets and rumours here and there.

But. This was a time-traveller.

And thus, Rond Vidar, time-travel's greatest fanboy, knew of him. Not all of him. But of him.

"He was one of the first," he mumbled to Caroline, as M'onel and Allana arrived behind them. "One of the first. Of us."

 

[ChasNicollette]

M'onel. Corridors, Assembly Hall.

A hand twitched, a shoulder dipped, a flare of light rippling along her left arm, almost as if she’d caught fire for the briefest of micro-moments. A flashing ripple of the sensation of flames flickering and gone.

Perhaps it was to his benefit that M'onel had come to a halt on the right side of Allana. Perhaps it would have been more to his benefit had he stopped on her left, perhaps it would have given him inspiration to ask questions that needed asking.

But probably it was for the best that such secrets be kept as yet, and such mysteries given leave to unfold in the fullness of Time.

As it was, M'onel hesitated, and sniffed, once, with his nostrils, and scented something interesting. It reminded him, perhaps oddly, subliminally, subconsciously, of Fate, of Wraith, and of Raya's old dagger lost long ago to the sands of The Phantom Zone.

Once upon a time, Captain Marvel had scented this before clashing with Djinn of The Fifth Dimension. Diana of Themyscira had scented this upon the armour of a killing warrior from The Obsidian Age. And Jamie Hamilton, working alongside his ladylove Ceri and the madman John Constantine, had scented this upon blue beings he had thought to be pacifists.

The smell of Magic. Old Magic.

And while M'onel was not yet schooled enough in such things to realise Magic had a smell, perhaps he would understand this more fully before the end of all these things.

But he stood there beside her, and he inclined his head in the direction of a lift.

"Right this way."

Watching him through peripheral vision, Allana walked, matching his pace. Her bare feet soundless on the cold floor even as the hem of her initiates robe whispered as it brushed the floor.

His own plazmetalloid boots cludded with the rhythm of his pace, even as her robes swished with the rhythm of hers.

Clud, swish. Clud, swish.

And with clarity and grace, he led her there.

Moving into the room she looked upon the triad of statues, noting the similarity of triads, or a trinity, in many aspects of human, and inhuman cultures. Stepping to the side she watched, listened, and waited, waited for decisions even as she watched the faces and people around her.

Waited for the Legion to assemble.

M'onel stood, and saw there the green man with the Blue Ring. And the blue cloak swirled about mighty shoulders.

"He was one of the first," Lar heard "Teen Lantern" mumbling to Powergirl, sounding in awe: "One of the first. Of us."

And at that, M'onel looked upon the green man with the strangest sense of... familiarity. But he couldn't place it. He couldn't possibly.

He hesitated. And gazed into eyes deep and dark and older even than his own.

"Nice cape," he opined, in all seriousness, as he knew not what else to say.

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Wraith

I looked over at my great-great something granddaughter. She reminded me so much of my daughter. She would not like being underdressed either.

"Jaymie, give James back his coat please."

There wasn't much I could not do in Shadow. I could not bring back the dead, nor create life, but matter manipulation, that was within my power here.

Shadows swirld around my granddaughter. Her cry of suprise (more a 'yipe') masked the sounds of shadows for a second, and when they parted she was clad in the armor I knew so well.

"Thats my Rose's costume Granddaughter. You are more than worthy of both her name, and her armor. I am proud that you choose to take up her mantle."

I looked at the others. "Let's go. James, I shall see you there shortly."

I concentrated and a silver amulet appeared on my hand. I walked over to James and handed it to him.

"This identifies you as being under my protection. Also, it gives you ambassador status to the realm. The entite realm. Try and stay out of trouble with it."

With that, shadows swirled around my kith and kin, and we emerged in the assembly hall close to J'onn.

 

[AmenRa]

A hand twitched, a shoulder dipped, a flare of light rippling along her left arm, M'onel stood, and saw there the green man with the Blue Ring. And the blue cloak swirled about mighty shoulders.

"He was one of the first," Lar heard "Teen Lantern" mumbling to Powergirl, sounding in awe: "One of the first. Of us."

And at that, M'onel looked upon the green man with the strangest sense of... familiarity. But he couldn't place it. He couldn't possibly.

He hesitated. And gazed into eyes deep and dark and older even than his own.

"Nice cape," he opined, in all seriousness, as he knew not what else to say.

J'onn inclined his head to gaze at the new arrivals.

Vidar's explanation to Powergirl was an accurate one, J'onn surmised. He had never asked for glory or fame. Fortune and glory had never been his mission. Only the perpetuation of the ideals of justice, honor, and peace. He knew, though, these ideals had been passed on, embodied by those with whom he allied himself, notably the trio of statues that now adorned the Hall.

And these ideals carried across time and space to the members of the Legion of Superheroes that were filtering into the Hall one by one, two by two, groups at a time. For a moment, J'onn allowed himself the emotion of pride, and he stood a little taller, a little straighter.

His eyes flared red briefly as his galactic gaze settled on M'onel.

"In my language, the language of my home world, your name means He Who Wanders ". And to further explain things, J'onn added, " And mine means Light to the Light," he stated.

With that, shadows swirled around my kith and kin, and we emerged in the assembly hall close to J'onn.

To Wraith, J'onn said, "I appreciate your expediting the retrieval of everyone. The Legion is all but yet assembled."

 

[TearsoftheWorld]

Caroline followed the Martian Manhunters nod and looked at the statues of Earth's legends, but none of them looked anything like what she was seeing now. But he was among them.

He had served with them.

There had been... countless heroes, but few that matched the powers and abilities of the Justice League.

Some were gone.

Some were asleep.

Few remained.

Fuck.

"He was one of the first. One of the first. Of us."

"Yeah. This... this is really... "

"Nice cape."

"I was going to say cool," Caroline said.

"In my language, the language of my home world, your name means He Who Wanders. And mine means Light to the Light," J'onn added.

"I appreciate your expediting the retrieval of everyone. The Legion is all but yet assembled."

"Yeah. So what's all the hub-bub about? Is Earth going to blow up or something?"

 

[Varshanka]

Remaining silent, Allana observed those around her, assessing status, rank, order of peerage. It was all a dance of protocol. And for now, it wasn’t her place to question, or intrude. A novitiate to this Legion, she was. And as a novitiate she would remain until she passed their test.

And then she felt the twisting of here and there, a slipping slide of realities blending and melding into one. Unnaturally. Like a sheen of cold old oil slithering underneath a layer of skin.

Something with reacted on instinct, a burning heat surfacing to shimmer just beneath sensory levels, burning the slick vileness from her soul, and the oil was gone. Shifting her gaze slightly she watched with suspicion at the new individuals, and their rather interesting method of travel.


http://i239.photobucket.com/albums/ff260/Varshanka/Magdalena/darkness.jpg

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Galtos

Outside the shuttle madness reigned.

Galtos was a prison PLANET, and the prisoners were rioting.

All three hundred million of them, give or take a few hundred thousand.

The Science Police along with the automated systems were doing their best, but it was evident that they were in over their heads.

And three Legionaries were all that was between this planet of madness and the rest of the galaxy.

Jo was doing everything she could, and Shady too was a force to be reckoned with, but the sheer scope of what was before them was insurmountable.

Cos should have sent more backup. Hell, there may not be enough backup.

But she was a Legionnaire, a Founder. There had never been a challenge she had not faced, and this was not going to be one she ran from.

"Jo, Shady, I am sending Cos a message to send us some more bodies. Until we get backup, assist the SP's and watch your backs."

Unnoticed by Saturn Girl, a light was shining in the back of the shuttle. Growing brighter, until a man appeared. A young man with brown hair and bright eyes.

*OK Imra, time to do your thing.* she thought as she moved to the hatch. She had a near impossible task ahead of her, but she had beaten odds this bad before.

She wouldn't loose hope.

In the back of the shuttle the young man smiled and nodded at the young blond Titanian. He made a gesture in her direction, and then in a blink of light was gone.

Imra was at the door of the shuttle when she felt a presence, then she felt something else.

Power, and a sense of determination. Courage, and hope.

Closing her eyes she focused on the minds outside the shuttle, planning to shut down the group of rioters closest to the shuttle. What happened instead was what she would later call a miracle.

Instead of a small group of minds, her consciousness expanded, sweeping over the planet. Criminal, Jailer, and her comrades all were held in her minds grasp. Millions of bright lights. Some raging in madness, some in despair. Jo and Shady's warriors determination. All were seen by here.

And in that moment of perfect clarity, she reached out with her mind and put the angry, maddened and insane down with a thought.

In an instant, over a quarter of a billion beings fell down into a catatonic sleep.

Imra staggered back and collapsed on the bulkhead, conscious, but exhausted.

 

[AmenRa]

"Yeah. So what's all the hub-bub about? Is Earth going to blow up or something?"

The Martian Manhunter gave a simple, slow shake of his green head.

"Not on my watch," he said.

 

[Lunaramblings]

"You're part of a story, Jaymie Greystone," The Doctor intoned, like a declaration, like an invocation, like a benediction. "One that isn't over yet."

"Just you wait and see."[/I]

"Oi. Ya know, Doc, I always hate when you get all cryptic." The spectre that was Merick grinned and started juggling small orbs of energy.

Jaymie nodded for a moment, and then stood up tall, The Doctor's coat billowing around her smaller frame.

"Okay. New chapter."

"That's the spirit," Liz inclined her head, appreciatively.

The Doctor turned, then, a curious expression on his face. He sniffed the air significantly. "Here he comes. (I never get tired of this entrance.)"

And then the patches of dim and dark in the room swirled together as though possessed, as though made to dance by some hidden and godsforsaken fancy, and from the whirling swirling moaning space of black, there arose Wraith.

But not J'onn.

Liz frowned. "Dad. What's going--"

"Change of plans, J'onn called a full muster of the Legion, so war council is happening there. Dad, you coming with me or on your own? you got here by yourself so I figure you can leave if you want."

J'onn?"! Merick and Jonah intoned in time.... matching looks of shock playing across their faces.

The Doctor ran his tongue over his teeth. "Yeah. Dun want to leave me ship here overlong; I've tapped into residual chronal anomalies which'll keep her running here in the absence of the primary cosmos' energies, but I don't want to risk that running out prematurely thanks to Shadow's advanced temporal progression."

He grinned softly. "Just tell your mates on the wall not to zing me with an arrow on the way out. (I had enough of that in Shakespeare's day.)"

"He had a tiff with a namesake of mine," Liz harrumphed.

The Doctor rubbed behind his ear, looking a little embarrassed. "Yes. Well. Royalty. That's all a bit--"

He coughed, and righted himself.

Turning to regard Jonah and The Ghost of Merick Past, The Doctor became more serious, and a little bit distant.

"If they're assembling the whole Legion Roll Call, Jonah," The Doctor mused, "mightn't you want to bring in your people on Steeple? They'll be prevented from receiving any signals by that pesky black hole activity. I imagine Merick's abilities won't be nearly so confounded."

Jaymie tapped The Doctor on the shoulder, and handed him his coat back, looking terribly sheepish.

"Could we also drop me off at my room, or at least get me some trousers or a kilt or something? I'm not exactly in Legion dress-code."

"Oh," The Doctor nodded, shrugging back into his coat, "yeah. That, too. Can't have you running around having adventures in your nightie."

Merick grinned and looked at Jonah. Got a star map, or captain's log or some such?"

Jonah nodded and produced an image of the galaxy from his ring. Merick looked for a second and grinned.

Your dad ever tell you 'bout the time I teleported him out of his pajamas and into time square? That Naked Cowboy ain't got nothing on a naked magician."

The Merick-spectre began to mumble as he looked at the maps. Do you do the exponents or the parenthesis first? Bah, no matter.... 'ang on Jonah..." there was a massive swoosh as the Merick-spectre folded himself and Jonah from one reality to another. From one galaxy to another. They materialized in the air above a vast chasm on Steeple. Jonah barely had time to react before they started falling. The Merick-spectre laughing the whole way.

 

[Wyldfire]

Ultra Girl and XS. Takron Galtos.

~Heavy worlder quadrant, Takron Galtos~

Once Jo'd gotten the Daxamite to the special needs sector she'd worked her way into the HW quad, where she could take off the kid gloves she was having to use with the normal inmates. It felt good to cut loose a little. Almost too good.

The cons, even in the state of chemically induced insanity, knew better than to try her one at a time. They all knew deep down that the Legionairre in their midst was much more dangerous than they were. Jo'd just finished off the last to have been mad enough to try her alone when a mob of eight or nine tried her all at once. One of them leapt on her from behind and in his attempt to cling to her found purchase on her left breast.

Jo had half a second of panic, taken back a few years, back to the 'Bor. Back to the first time she'd been hurt. Instinct took over for that split second and she went invulnerable. The blows meant to drive her to the ground landed ineffectually.

That was all she needed though. Her hardening came back to her as she shifted first to speed to escape most of the cons, all but the one groping her as he tried to kill her.

The girl from the 'Bor, the Emerald Dragon, grabbed the Hoffmanite by his hand and again shifted, this time to strength. The con's hand broke under her grip. "Not now sweetie, Mommy's busy," she growled through her clenched jaw, "Go play with your friends."

With that she hurled the heavy worlder into the rest of his would be allies. The group went down in a heap as Ultra girl's eyes began to pulse and blaze with her flash vision. She carved a trench between the rising cons and herself to give herself a chance to think of what to do next.

Meanwhile at the cruiser, Imra was at the door of the shuttle when she felt a presence, then she felt something else.

Power, and a sense of determination. Courage, and hope.

Closing her eyes she focused on the minds outside the shuttle, planning to shut down the group of rioters closest to the shuttle. What happened instead was what she would later call a miracle.

Instead of a small group of minds, her consciousness expanded, sweeping over the planet. Criminal, Jailer, and her comrades all were held in her minds grasp. Millions of bright lights. Some raging in madness, some in despair. Jo and Shady's warriors determination. All were seen by here.

And in that moment of perfect clarity, she reached out with her mind and put the angry, maddened and insane down with a thought.

In an instant, over a quarter of a billion beings fell down into a catatonic sleep.

Jo looked on as her assailants fell. She keyed her omnicom online and said "What the sprock was that all about? Did I get a new power or did the entire heavy worlder quad just drop over and go to sleep?"

~Too many places to list~

She ran. Sounds simple right? When it came to XS that wasn't the case. The speed force was her life. Well, besides Grandma Iris and her cousin Bart that was. But they understood. XS did not understand the meaning of slow down.

Jenni was on the move, doing what she did best. Quad after quad, she went, helping S.P.s where she could. Trying to figure out where this had all gone so horriblly horriblly wrong. As she reached the absolute chaos in Supply loading dock A it happened. The entire riot for the one remaining supply transport went to sleep.

"What the sprock was that all about? Did I get a new power or did the entire heavy worlder quad just drop over and go to sleep?" If this all hadn't been so surreal Jenni would have laughed at Jo for that.

Into her own ring she replied "Not just you Jo, Loading dock A just did the same thing." XS moved amongst the bodies until she found Black mace, Ron-Karr, and Tyr. All dead in the same way. "Umm guys I think I kinda mighta found what caused all of this."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Aztek, et al. The Academy. // Threshold Satellite/LSubH-HQ. // Medbay.

The Legion had been mustered.

All reserve members had been activated.

Which included, de facto, the students of The Academy.

Kent Shakespeare and Zoe "Kinetix" Saugin were dispensing the pre-encoded reserve Flight Rings to the inaugural class, provided they could get properly dressed first.

Even Aztek. ("We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Shakespeare had explained to Cuatro when Cuatro had wordlessly searched Shakespeare's face regarding the prohibition of his activation. Regarding McCauley. "We hardly want to lose an asset like you to The Workforce.")

Gates was providing transit for The Legion of Substitute Heroes from their headquarters on The Threshold Station in orbit, their reserve Rings having also been engaged to replace those clunky Athramite jetpacks they used to get around. Having done this, Gates teleportaled himself down to Montauk Point in order to offer the same service to The Cadets.

A spacial displacement portal quavered and shimmered in the air, vertical, as The Cadets hustled through to the Assembly Hall.

"C'mon, c'mon," the Vyrgan grumbled as he ushered them along. "Far be it from me to defy my rightful apparent place as a member of the slave class. Sprockin' vertebrates..."

But when time came for Aztek to take the portal, Shakespeare touched his arm and indicated he should hold on.

"Gates," he suggested. "I've heard we've got people wounded. Badly wounded. I could help tend them myself, but if they're beyond Salu's microsurgical talents... well, I wouldn't do them much good. But Aztek... If it's not too much trouble--"

"Tch," Gates harrumphed.

"--could you reroute your teleportal to Medbay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Gates agreed, though with exaggerated reluctance.

Kent looked quietly at Aztek. "I know you're not comfortable with this. But 'all hands on deck' means we need all the hands we can get."

Aztek glanced down at the Ring on his hand. And then donned his helmet, manifesting the vestments of his office, a shimmering, gold-and-white uniform.

Nodding, Cuatro Falconer squared his shoulders. "Let's go."

And stepped through...

...through nospace...

...and into the Medbay, the portal closing behind him as it was apparently rerouted back to The Hall.

Glancing hesitantly at Element Lad and Shrinking Violet, he no longer felt nearly so confident as he had done. He stood over the damaged Dawnstar and held up his hand, flexing his fingers, implying the metagene he'd inherited from his predecessor Uno.

"Hey," he attempted. "Can I help?"

 

[ChasNicollette]

The Doctor, VM3, GL 2261. Shadow.

"You're part of a story, Jaymie Greystone," The Doctor intoned, like a declaration, like an invocation, like a benediction. "One that isn't over yet."

"Just you wait and see."

"Oi. Ya know, Doc, I always hate when you get all cryptic." The spectre that was Merick grinned and started juggling small orbs of energy.

The Doctor grinned delightedly at Merick. "And I always hated it when you skipped to the back of the book. All exposition in due course, Tennylson."

Jaymie nodded for a moment, and then stood up tall, The Doctor's coat billowing around her smaller frame.

"Okay. New chapter."

"That's the spirit," Liz inclined her head, appreciatively.

The Doctor turned, then, a curious expression on his face. He sniffed the air significantly. "Here he comes. (I never get tired of this entrance.)"

And then the patches of dim and dark in the room swirled together as though possessed, as though made to dance by some hidden and godsforsaken fancy, and from the whirling swirling moaning space of black, there arose Wraith.

But not J'onn.

Liz frowned. "Dad. What's going--"

"Change of plans, J'onn called a full muster of the Legion, so war council is happening there. Dad, you coming with me or on your own? you got here by yourself so I figure you can leave if you want."

(J'onn?"! Merick and Jonah intoned in time.... matching looks of shock playing across their faces.

Jaymie got a bit of a look on her own face. "(Okay, so I'm the only person in the room who doesn't know who that is. I don't know lots of things.)")

The Doctor ran his tongue over his teeth. "Yeah. Dun want to leave me ship here overlong; I've tapped into residual chronal anomalies which'll keep her running here in the absence of the primary cosmos' energies, but I don't want to risk that running out prematurely thanks to Shadow's advanced temporal progression."

He grinned softly. "Just tell your mates on the wall not to zing me with an arrow on the way out. (I had enough of that in Shakespeare's day.)"

"He had a tiff with a namesake of mine," Liz harrumphed.

The Doctor rubbed behind his ear, looking a little embarrassed. "Yes. Well. Royalty. That's all a bit--"

He coughed, and righted himself.

Turning to regard Jonah and The Ghost of Merick Past, The Doctor became more serious, and a little bit distant.

"If they're assembling the whole Legion Roll Call, Jonah," The Doctor mused, "mightn't you want to bring in your people on Steeple? They'll be prevented from receiving any signals by that pesky black hole activity. I imagine Merick's abilities won't be nearly so confounded."

Jaymie tapped The Doctor on the shoulder, and handed him his coat back, looking terribly sheepish.

"Could we also drop me off at my room, or at least get me some trousers or a kilt or something? I'm not exactly in Legion dress-code."

"Oh," The Doctor nodded, shrugging back into his coat, "yeah. That, too. Can't have you running around having adventures in your nightie."

I looked over at my great-great something granddaughter. She reminded me so much of my daughter.

The darkened world billowed even darker around Jaymie Rozymac Greystone, and as much as she was resolved to face whatever dangers lay before her, this unexpectedness caused a yipe to escape her throat, a yipe that was two-thirds "Grife!"

A telemolecular effect took hold, like the powers of Element Lad or one of the Firestorms... electrons jumped shells, neutrons rearranged, even the air itself metamorphosed into solid matter...

...and Valkyrie M3 wore armour of red and blue, etched with the flag of The United Kingdom, with goggles adorning the top of her head amidst the icy sky-blue of her hair. This was the armour that Rose Mary McCrimmon's Uncle Emil had made for her as a young lady, his last gesture of familial courtesy before...

...before...

Rose would wear other uniforms than this, and would often eschew uniforms for plainclothes superheroics, but this uniform had proved symbolic, iconic enough in its time.

Jaymie wore the colours of her ancestress, and she was awed.

"Thats my Rose's costume Granddaughter. You are more than worthy of both her name, and her armor. I am proud that you choose to take up her mantle."

"Thank you," Jaymie murmured, and she couldn't be prouder herself. "Thank you so much."

Liz smiled softly, a smile that was hardly a smile at all. "Looks good on you. But."

Liz held up her left hand, pointed this at Jaymie. "Begging your pardon, Dad. But there's just one thing missing."

Her GL Ring unleashed a tightly-focused beam, a sizzle and a spit as it carved an emblem into the unadorned belt of Rose's old armour. The Legion emblem, replicated there in surprisingly artistic detail.

"'So let it be written,'" The Doctor opined, a measure of pride in his own voice as well. "'So let it be done.'"

Her cheeks burning red, Jaymie nevertheless felt like she'd never stood taller.

I looked at the others. "Let's go. James, I shall see you there shortly."

Tipping a jaunty salute to Wraith from his forehead, The Doctor nodded firmly. "'Jack Robinson.'"

I concentrated and a silver amulet appeared on my hand. I walked over to James and handed it to him.

"This identifies you as being under my protection. Also, it gives you ambassador status to the realm. The entite realm. Try and stay out of trouble with it."

The Doctor grinned a slow, slow grin, dangling the amulet from his fingers and gazing it before slithering its necklace over his head and atop the black of his tie. "Oh, please, really, Ebeneezer Darrk, when have you ever known me to abuse a badge of office?" He paused, ticked his head to the side and self-corrected delightedly: "Well..."

With that, shadows swirled around my kith and kin...

...and they were gone.

Hands in his pockets, The Doctor turned to examine Jonah and Mer's ghost.

"You two sorted, or d'you need a lift?" he wondered. "The 200's about to roll out of the depot."

Merick grinned and looked at Jonah. Got a star map, or captain's log or some such?"

Jonah nodded and produced an image of the galaxy from his ring. Merick looked for a second and grinned.

The Doctor arched his eyebrows. "Oh, yeah, you'll do fine on your own."

Your dad ever tell you 'bout the time I teleported him out of his pajamas and into time square? That Naked Cowboy ain't got nothing on a naked magician."

"What kind of world am I living in," The Doctor muttered to himself, "when a bloke and his jimjams are fair game?"

The Merick-spectre began to mumble as he looked at the maps. Do you do the exponents or the parenthesis first? Bah, no matter.... 'ang on Jonah..." there was a massive swoosh as the Merick-spectre folded himself and Jonah from one reality to another. From one galaxy to another.

And there The Doctor stood. By himself once more.

"Right, then," he murmured. "That's sorted. Best shift."

And he walked back the way he had come, emerald Converse padding their way down stairs and over stone, fingers occasionally trailing over bannisters and tapestries.

He barely noticed as kind, sombre blue people parted from his path as he walked, his head slightly bowed, all of them responding swiftly to the sight of his amulet.

Even the guard that had fired the warning shot from the battlement inclined his head respectfully to The Doctor as The Doctor passed.

Lost in his own head, The Doctor nodded, absently, back to the guard, and then strolled across the drawbridge and into the gloaming landscape that was Shadow.

The TARDIS waited for him, The Clever Blue Box.

Just as absently, The Doctor snapped his fingers and the door swung wide with its distinctive creak...

...striding inward, absolutely distracted, The Doctor pushed shut the door, felt the lock click into place, and took off his coat to drape this haphazardly over one of the coral outcroppings.

And then he turned to face The Console.

...and he blinked in startlement.

He was not alone.

"What?"

 

[ChasNicollette]

Dream Girl, et al. Steeple. (Apologies to Abnett and Lanning.)

The winds of Steeple are not kind.

Thirty-knot headwinds, gusting cross-shears, and treacherous vortex-pockets slash through the atmosphere, threatening to dash any who try to navigate against crags and gullies and canyon walls. The spires reach up, up, up into lethal stellar storms, and many of the trenches bottom out at no shallower than the planet's living molten core itself.

Despite all these dangers, the native Halpashar monks admonish those who take to the air to not impose their will on the winds. With a mix of Zen detachment and Taoist wu-wei, The Halpashar instead direct those who fly upon the bulbous, batwinged blimp-steeds to go wherever the winds take them.

And, promising one of the remaining mentors that she would do just that, Dream Girl boarded one such blimp-steed and, smiling softly, allowed the winds to carry her wherever they would.

And while she rode the steed and the gusts slashed about, she closed her eyes and smiled softly and listened... listened for a sound within the wind...

...the sound of a "swooosh." And the sound of laughter.

They materialized in the air above a vast chasm on Steeple. Jonah barely had time to react before they started falling. The Merick-spectre laughing the whole way.

And just as she heard this, just as they solidified, just as they began to plummet towards that planet-core below, banking in sideways upon an opportune, even fortuitous gust, Dream Girl opened her eyes and smiled even wider.

The two men landed there upon the back of the beast; if either of them slid or scrabbled for purchase, her hands would already be there to guide them back to hang upon the steering vanes.

A lovely woman clad in silver, a beauty mark like a star upon her cheek, her platinum hair furling and flashing in the winds, she beamed at them.

"Welcome back," she proclaimed to Jonah, and then winked flirtatiously at Merick's Ghost. "Who's your friend?"

 

[ChasNicollette]

Lightning Lass, Phantom Girl, Shadow Lass. The Galtos.

Takron-Galtos was a cataclysm, a gaping maw of madness.

And in that mouth Legion ladies waged unflinching war.

Lightning crackled, sizzled, spat and snaked and leaped around Ayla Ranzz.

Tusker loomed before her, his pachydermic skin grey and leathery, saliva dripping from his tusks. He leered at her.

Behind her stood Bronto, scaly and slate blue, seething within his own reptilian hide. He grinned at her.

To her right stood Nadir, a brackish green hulk from the high-grav world of Quothon, and to make matters worse he had snatched a pack-fed plasma cannon and strapped this on his back. He smirked at her.

"Okay," Ayla snarled. "Come on, then."

Ten feet tall easy, Bronto lunged at her from behind, his clawed fingertips raking at her...

...Tusker powered at her from the front, head ducked, tusks gleaming...

...both her hands moved, darted like lightning in their own right, one snapping towards Tusker's unbreakable skin, the other cutting low towards the ground behind her...

...a bolt crackled out from each hand, miniature thunderbooms echoing after the scorching electricity had flashed and gone...

...Tusker sizzled and roared, his unbreakable skin and bones unable to insulate his nervous system from the onslaught, but his momentum was considerable and still he ploughed forwards...

...Bronto churned at her from behind, but the bolt cut behind her blew a crater into the crete at his feet and he stumbled, her lightning would have just fizzled off of his scales but she'd thrown him off balance...

"KIAI!" she howled as she bounded upwards, adding her Flight Ring's antigrav to her leap, planting a hand on Tusker's skull and vaulting over him, landing behind him, both behemoths crashing together like stone crashing against stone. Tusker's tusks stabbed deeply into Bronto like few other things in this galaxy could, and from behind Tusker Ayla poured forth a renewed assault that coursed not just through Tusker, but through Tusker into Bronto, bypassing Bronto's invulnerability by conducting along Tusker's eponymous unbreakable ivories...

...both massive men screamed and twitched and crumpled.

Which just left...

CHOOM!

...a plasma blast crashed past Ayla's face, she just barely lunged out of the scorch radius of the beam's path...

"You have been forgetting Nadir, red-hair," the smirking gargantuan reminded her, apparently immune to The Pax but still perfectly willing to murder everyone in front of him, "but Nadir has not been forgetting you."

Ayla's brother here would have fired off some sort of quip about the unforgettability of Nadir's ugliness, it would have been funny, but Ayla was breathing hard and in no mood for games and, on top of all that, refused to judge anyone based on arbitrary physical attributes.

Lightning poured from her out-thrust hands and she roared with the effort, the electricity practically stifled her breathing--

--Nadir strode towards her, slogging through the bolts and chortling, perhaps even more resistant to the attack than Bronto would have been.

"Tickly," Nadir opined, and leveled the weapon at her face. "But Nadir is making you a ghost now."

And maybe the similarity of twins was greater even than Ayla had anticipated, she felt her mouth moving she felt sound coming out, even as lightning reflected in the sweat that ran down her face, she was talking: "Fine by me: some of my best friends are ghosts."

As if on cue, then, the raven-haired white-clad beauty that was Phantom Girl launched out of the ground, phasing, flying straight through Ayla, straight through Ayla's lightning, straight through the barrel of Nadir's cannon, straight through Nadir and out the other side...

...and as she dove through, her hand lashed out, grabbing hold of a certain clump of clammy cables in the inner workings of the cannon's feeder-pack and yanking these free with a snap...

She powered back into the ground, and as she went she called over her shoulder: "Ayla! NOW!"

Ayla's lip twitched in gratification.

Nadir's eyes widened in bewilderment.

And Ayla's lightning seared around Nadir like an aura, snarling deep into the now-damaged plasma pack.

And the pack detonated, all its contained energies erupting at once, VTOOOMMFF!

Nadir staggered, his body smouldering, and he slumped to the ground.

Ayla clutched her head, her reserves were waning, she'd never tapped herself so hard. "Thanks," she acknowledged Tinya, as Phantom Girl phased back up out of the ground.

Phantom Girl nodded quickly, warily, turning this way and that. "I think Jo went to the high-grav quad, are we near there? We need to cover her back..."

Ayla shook her head: "We shouldn't go too far from the shuttle, Imra might need us to bail her out, and Tas went after the warden and his guys--"

--an explosion rocked the ground where they stood, a wall blew open, and Tasmia came hurtling through the hole with a snarl, digging into the ground and skidding to a halt with two boots and five fingers, the other hand clutching a katana made from Lythyllian steel and emblazoned with the crest of the Ancient Earth clan known as The League of Shadows. This was, perhaps, ironic.

"Assassins," Shadow Lass spat, and then launched back from where she'd come, as though not slowed down at all by what seemed like the concussion from a rocket-propelled plasma grenade. "These can see in the dark."

She didn't say another word.

Without another word, Lightning Lass and Phantom Girl shared a look and soared after her...

...sci-cops had surrounded the warden, they were shooting back, the warden himself had a gun, but numerous agile foes in what resembled black sleepwear were dodging each blast with seeming effortlessness. They'd apparently retrieved their weapons from an evidence locker and were apparently retaining enough assassin training despite The Pax' influence to know to take out the leader of the resistance...

...an arrow stabbed towards Ayla's face and a stab of lightning cut it from the air. More energy bolts swarmed from her fingertips, but the ninja were elusive enough somehow to evade even these.

Wielding the sword with a howl, shadows bursting around her as she moved, Tasmia disarmed the first ninja she reached-- one too many things for him to dodge --and nearly took his head off with a backhanded fist. Diving into a roll under a slew of shuriken, she bounded up and drove a knee into the reproductive region of one of the Lythyllians, then threw an elbow into his throat, bringing this one down as well.

Soaring through the hail of plasma fire and old-fashioned projectiles, Phantom Girl flew to the warden, grabbing his hand.

"Come on, sir," Tinya encouraged. "I can fly you to the--"

"I'm not leaving my men," Boltax snarled, shaking his head, yanking his hand free of her grasp.

Apparently having reloaded the aforementioned RPPG launcher, one of the ninjas leveled the weapon at the warden and fired--

Tasmia leaned back and hurled the katana at the weaponer, the blade sinking into his shoulder and taking him down with a howl, but the grenade still roared through the air...

Ayla whirled, her fingers spitting sparks, catching the grenade in mid-air, deflecting its trajectory just a smidge, just barely... the grenade soared by and exploded, the sound ringing in Tinya's ears and forcing her to unphase, clutching her head.

A shuriken ripped across Ayla's forearm, grazing her, sparks flying, and she grimaced bitterly, biting back a cry of pain...

...one of the sci-cops managed to squeeze off a shot, taking down the last of the ninja...

...but then, all around them, loomed Khundian warriors foaming at the mouth, snarling, sharptoothed Dominators, a seething mass of amorphous orange Durlan...

Glancing in the direction of the shuttle, of Imra, of the space where Imra was rerouting the minds of the rioters to keep them unaware of the escape option the shuttle provided... Tasmia frowned.

"Someone's here," she muttered.

Bandaging her own graze with first-aid from a belt pouch, Ayla scowled. "Yeah, no spet."

Tinya's ears were ringing, she was struggling to read their lips.

"No," Tasmia shook her head. "Someone's here. Someone. Proper noun, capital 's,' Someone."

Ayla's electricity crackled in a cordoning circle, attempting to form a makeshift forcefield. "Good Someone, or bad Someone?"

Tasmia shook her head. "Good, bad. This is hard to say. But they are... bright. Very bright."

Holding her ears, Tinya squinted at Tasmia. "'Bright?' What does that mean?"

And then... slow, lumbering, menacing footsteps halted. And the Khunds and the Dominators and that Durlan all... folded. Just like that.

Just like that.

"Wait," Ayla frowned.

"...what?" Tinya blinked.

Tasmia held up her hand to speak to her Ring, but Ultra Girl beat her to it: 'What the sprock was that all about? Did I get a new power or did the entire heavy worlder quad just drop over and go to sleep?'

Jenni was quick to reply, natcherly: 'Not just you Jo, Loading dock A just did the same thing.'

The remaining three girls exchanged looks.

'Umm guys I think I kinda mighta found what caused all of this.'

Tasmia squinted her eyes, and at long last spoke into her Ring: "XS. What's your twenty? Loading Dock A? Should we rendezvous? It's just a metric kiloton of questions right now and answers... answers would be good."