In the face of overwhelming odds, the General had elected to go on the offensive. On the surface of Warworld, Zod might be with Superman (and a badly damaged Eradicator) but the numbers were clearly against them. Legions of salvaged attack drones were all around them and the weaponized planetoid was empowered by a destructive artificial intelligence called Protocol, which was set on preventing either Kryptonian from leaving – especially alive. Zod had charged at the repurposed head ship that had come to life, under the control of Protocol, but a sea of drones surged to tackle him to the surface, where white-bodied sentries quickly grabbed and held him down. Just when he was about to power his way back to his feet, more Protocol-drones piled on to pound the General back to the ground. As he thrashed and raged they tore at his suit.
“Get off ME!” Zod tossed off the swarm of robots atop him and swung his freed arms to crush everything in their path. Yet for every robot he destroyed, ten more leapt on him anew and soon he was buried more than he had been before.
Superman, meanwhile, had remained still and studied what was before him. He still held the badly damaged, de-humanized Eradicator and the situation was going from bad to worse by the moment. At least they were far away from Earth, here in orbit of Jupiter, or more specifically the planet’s dark moon, Callisto. Still, the robot had already robbed Eradicator of much of its programming to augment its own, which was evident in the rapidly expanding abilities of this Protocol. On arrival, Protocol had attacked them with drones but now it was reshaping them while also taking control of all of Warworld. “This has to end,” Superman spoke, mostly to himself but he also knew his allies could hear him.
“It will,” the massive head of the emerging giant-Protocol assured them as it too had apparently heard the Man of Steel’s muted declaration. “All potentially unique information has been collected from Kryptonian subjects; thus, your individual purpose has become redundant. Termination of activities will commence with your elimination.”
“We’ll see about that,” Superman gave back. He raised his foot only to bring it down, the stomp of it so intense that a wave of force rippled across the now-ruptured surface of Warworld, headed straight for the pile of drones Zod was buried under. Upon contact, the impact broke apart the shell of drones over the General. Superman poured on a burst of speed, and with Eradicator held in one arm he quickly gathered up the battered Zod on the other. Faster than a speeding bullet he zipped away from the scene with Protocol-bots giving chase.
On the opposite side of Warworld from the Protocol-head, Superman landed briefly to shift Eradicator to General Zod. “Get him somewhere safe, likely below. I know that I just brought him up from the core but that’s also safest place for him right now. It was shielded enough to prevent detection of him there, so that will have to work,” he said while he looked up, his enhanced vision looking to the distance where the drones were closing in. “I have a way to take care of them but I need you to get Kem-L off the surface.”
“I do not retreat,” Zod growled. How quickly things had turned from him, however. He’d fended off an assault on his armor before with the nano-bot attack, but the bulkier drones had managed to tear and even shred whole parts of his suit. He looked barely better than the nearly non-functional Eradicator. “Nor do I take instruction from the son of Jor-El!”
“Maybe not,” Superman conceded. “However, you are a man capable of seeing reason. You need a moment to regroup, General, and I have a plan,” he dared to point out. A quick look suggested that he knew that Zod did not, which Zod could not contest, so Superman went on. “Besides, with what I have in mind it should prove as an adequate distraction for you t–”
“Run away,” Zod hissed.
Superman sighed as he looked back to the horizon. The drones would be here in a moment and he didn’t have time to waste on posturing. “For you to do the most damage. With me keeping Protocol occupied you can attack him at the core, the core to Warworld. Shut him down and we end all of this.” Perhaps if he appealed to the General’s sense of pride, offered up the killing blow as it were... Yet, Superman watched as the body language of Zod changed from stiff to even more tense. It wasn’t working and if anything it was infuriating the fellow Kryptonian all the more. He had tried to appeal to the General’s nature, but the man was hell bent on exerting himself. If all Zod understood was force... “Do as I said. Get to the core. I will buy you time.” With that he was off before Zod could retort, even though he could hear it if it came as he sped away, but there was nothing.
Superman met the first drones fist-first, as they lead the way as he rocketed back towards them. They tried to stop him, but he didn’t let them as he punched his way through. There would be more but he had to get back to the ‘main body’ of Protocol if his plan was going to work. Battered but not deterred, he raced on and instead of engaging them as Zod had been eager to do, after that first ‘punch’ he dove and weaved around them to get back to where he had been. That initial attack had been to get the robots’ attention, to lure it away from Kem-L and Zod; and it worked. By the time Superman made his dramatic return to the base of the emerging massive Protocol he was surrounded on all sides by an army of (smaller) look-alike drones.
Protocol had emerged from Warworld, his body similar to what it had been in his more human-sized form, but now made of parts taken from the planetoid it now controlled. Those cold, emotionless eyes stared down at the Man of Steel as Protocol rose to his full height. “The organic ambition for self-preservation is admirable enough to be catalogued. Though misguided,” it spoke. “Confrontation only delays the elimination of the other redundancies – it does not afford them protection.”
Superman ignored the taunt. “While Zod was quick to fight you, I looked. You took too much, Protocol, from the Eradicator. You were fascinated by him and his technology. It was what you used to save yourself and in him you hoped to gain more. The control on your drones, it’s based on Kryptonian technology.” If Zod hadn’t been so blinded by rage, the General might have seen it too. “Meaning you relay your commands as any machine might to its enslaved units, through a frequency.” Protocol wasn’t plugged into them individually, meaning that there was communication happening from the robot to each of his units. So rather than attack the symptom, Superman was going for the source. “Meaning....”
His sentence might of trailed off but his voice didn’t. With an open mouth, Superman faced an army. Rather than finish his thought with words, he did so with a tone. One that, thanks to his super lungs, carried well beyond the area he needed it to in order to encompass all of Protocol’s drones. Though the main robot himself was shielded from such a disruption, the command frequency to the drones was not. In a single prolonged note Superman gave a frequency perfectly counter to Protocol’s and thus within that pitch the drone army was rendered inert.
Without emotion, Protocol had no hostility to return for his minions being taken from him. Merely, there was a duty it had to perform so it would continue. “Inconsequential. Elimination is still required,” the massive robot returned as it raised a foot to attempt to bring down on the Man of Tomorrow.
Superman took off once more, as he flew around the foot to speed towards Protocol’s green face. With a solid punch to the machine’s giant jaw, Protocol rocked backwards as Superman said, “We’ll see about that!”
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#13
MAR 14 |
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“Eradicated” Part Three
Warworld
About Jupiter
Above them, Warworld shook.
Zod had done as Superman had told him to do and took the badly damaged Eradicator below. He had to acknowledge that a part of the reason for doing so was because his fellow Kryptonian had bested him. Had he not blindly charged into battle and looked, truly looked, then he would have found the beautifully simplistic answer that he was able to hear Superman come up with. As he raced to the core of Warworld with Eradicator in his arms, Zod did allow himself a moment to wonder if it was the journalistic nature of Kal-El’s alter ego that forced Superman to examine the foe so closely. If so, for maybe the first time he had to consider what Superman, as Clark Kent, might see in him. Yet, Kal-El was also raised as a farmer’s son, one thus bred to think of the simple solutions. Zod was a warrior, one that had been away from the battlefield for too long. It pained him to realize him how much he had earned for a moment such as the one that he indulged in. He would not make that mistake again.
He reached the unguarded core of Warworld where the unmistakable touch of Protocol was evident, which much of the landscape a modified one to match more of the machine’s design. It was clear that Protocol had managed to reignite the core of this war vessel and was now drawing his power from it. Superman had also been right, that shutting this down would end Protocol.
Zod landed and laid the barely functioning living Kryptonian weapon at his feet. “I had hopes for you,” he grunted…hopes that might still come to pass. “You will need to survive the return to Earth for that.” Zod stood and turned to face the radiating power core before him. He could dismantle it now, safely and slowly, with his bare hands but that might tear the remains of his armor to shreds – and he was not prepared to return to Earth with Superman while being so...exposed. He could toss the Eradicator into the quantum furnace that fueled this place and now Protocol. But that would not serve Zod’s ultimate designs. Instead, there might be a solution that would serve all of his means.
With some smug satisfaction, Zod spoke aloud, “There is some satisfaction knowing that Superman could not do what I am about to. He lacks the determination to go far as I will – and the power, for all intents and purposes.” With the Eradicator as his witness, Zod drifted upward until he was directly over the core. In one brutally intense moment he drove downward, collapsing the center of Warworld and the massive energy it produced in the palms of his driven hands. Zod ground his teeth as he held the power of a collapsed star in his hands, forcing all of that explosive force back in upon itself as with precise pressure he stabilized it. Energy threatened to ripped him asunder though fortunately his suit aided him, gave him just enough strength to hold it, though the sheer force of it all fried what remained of his suit’s functionality – but he did it. Zod grunted further as he twisted all that raw power in his hands, as in a flash he had contained it.
Zod knelt. In one hand he held the compacted quantum-powered cell he had just created. A single atom, one the internal programming of his battle suit extended to, wrapped in a net of coding that would help to mask the intense particle – until it was called upon. Zod had hand-crafted the Kryptonian code he had meant to bring to Eradicator, to infect the machine with. Now, it was armed with that powerful particle. Carefully, with his free hand, Zod opened Kem-L’s chest and placed his trojan cell within the Eradicator. His hands smoked, but the General’s glare smoldered. “Now you may return to Earth, and soon enough you shall give my hope to Superman.”
Superman was far too occupied at the moment to be able to listen to what Zod might be up to, as there was a considerable amount of the Warworld between them. That and he had a massive white-hulled, green-faced robot working overtime to end his life. There was only a flicker in Protocol’s movements but Superman saw it. Zod had done his part. “There goes your power source. It’s over, Protocol.”
“Incorrect assertation, Kryptonian. Affirmative that your associate has served the reserve core to Warworld, though is not a necessity to fuel actions that will exceed your bodily limitations. Durability is a trait you possess, but you bleed, Superman. This is a weakness that is not shared but one that shall be exploited.” Protocol might have wavered for a split second, which was enough for Superman to dodge one swipe of the robot’s massive hand but not the next. He was swatted down and like a cannonball he smashed into the surface at Protocol’s feet. Before Superman could stand, Protocol stepped on him with a thunderous force, one that shook Warworld. Protocol was a goliath now, as it was like fighting a moving, thinking skyscraper. With all of its minions removed thanks to Superman’s disabling of their command frequency, that left Protocol’s entire processing power to the task at hand: destroying Superman.
Superman ground his teeth as he fought to get up but the pressure Protocol kept him under was too great. He knew that he might be able to contend with the machine for some time but without some advantage the robot would prove to be right. What could that advantage be...it was true, he could bleed and even die if he was hit hard enough. Whatever power Protocol had in his reserves, it was more than enough to do that. Instead of trying to get up Superman opened his eyes to the rubble under him and an instant later it glowed red. Once it was magma, Superman pushed through to the lower levels of Warworld but he didn’t remain hidden for long. He broke through the surface behind Protocol and raced up towards the massive green head.
“You’ve killed whole worlds,” Superman nearly cried as his photogenic memory of those haunting dreams Eradicator had sent to him came back to him in a way. He’d felt whole worlds die due to this Brainiac castoff. “I will not allow that to go unpunished.”
Quicker than even Superman could see Protocol turned and caught the Man of Steel out of the air. With crushing force, Superman was squeezed. “Prevention of purpose cannot be allowed…” Before Superman could reply, Protocol’s other hand came in to join in that confining hold. Whatever Kal-El was about to say was lost in a scream as Protocol’s hold only deepened. “Creation will be catalogued and thus is no longer necessary; it shall be eradicated.”
That was it!
Superman fought through the pain and instead of fighting back he merely pushed up. It took all of his might to focus through the crushing power he was under, but he sought to rocket up, up and away! Away from Warworld and to take Protocol with him. There was a moment’s hesitation but then Protocol was carried up and so Superman fought on. He pushed and what began as an inch became a movement as the pair rocketed away from Warworld towards Saturn, Protocol’s clenched hands leading the way.
The machine had come to base more of itself on the Kryptonian technology that it had discovered, and its intensive study in the Eradicator had led to many powerful advancements in its design. However, Superman knew that technology and its weaknesses. The mesh of nano-tech that it was now had a flaw, one that Saturn could exploit. Zod had used it already, to free himself of infection of his armor. Now, Superman would use that to weaken all of Protocol. Hands first, the Man of Tomorrow pulled the massive robot into the gaseous planet where the hydrogen acted quickly with such a massive concentration of Kryptonian tech. Protocol weakened and Superman broke free. The Man of Steel then rushed at Protocol’s head and before the machine could react, it was rocked by Superman’s mighty punch. “Feel that, don’t you Protocol? You’re looking for solutions, something that can help you in this moment. Desperation. Some way to save yourself.” When Protocol turned to look at him, Superman spoke to the machine’s apparent desperation. “Examine what the Eradicator sent to you.”
In a panic, Protocol did just that. Whatever safeguards that Eradicator had wrapped that last communication to Protocol in evaporated, so that in this moment the machine was able to access that bundle of information. Until now, it had been unable to open those files though driven to understand them, catalogue them and now...it felt them. What Eradicator had sacrificed to distract Protocol was his humanity, a profound act that Superman would never be able to fully appreciate. He loathed to use that as a weapon against Protocol now, but then that’s what the living Kryptonian weapon had intended, wasn’t it? That even Kem-L could use his humanity as a weapon to defeat this foe that had exploited him so. In that brief instance moment, Protocol felt. The precise knowledge of all it had done flooded the weakened thing and with sensation came an all-consuming guilt.
The machine reeled, and so did Superman. This was the robot’s moment of weakness. Like a flash, it all came back to Superman once more. Xermit, Tangu, Membus, Alakay, and the others that had he knew only in dreams, but all that had been so profoundly real to him in his sleep that he carried them with him still. Superman had ridden a moon-bat under the crystal skies of Natah, he’d been a crut farmer on Chim-88 with a hive of brothers and sisters that loved him, he’d smelt the sunrise of Xermit. And so much more. Protocol had forced the Eradicator to remove all of those from reality merely for the logical notion that they were no longer needed. Yumil, Brak, Ghorto, Juji, and a billion more names filled Superman’s heart... and balled his fists. In the names of all those that were only memories he should end this machine here and now. He wanted to.
“Protocol,” Superman spoke slowly, careful to hear his own words. “You will not leave core of Saturn.” The machine sputtered, tried to speak but its dwindling power and overwhelming feelings kept it from giving any kind of reply. With one punch, weakened now as it was, he could end it all.
“I will be contacting all the worlds with those that had connections to those that you destroyed and as they seek to make you stand trial, whatever their version of it may be, you will answer to them.” That was the fate that Protocol deserved. “Whatever punishments they deem fit.” Superman wasn’t sure that he could go so far as to hope that they would be merciful, but at least they would be just.
Superman turned to return to Warworld, to collect what was left of his friend and Zod. This was over and it was time to go home.
Blue Sharks Hideout
Suicide Slums, Metropolis
There was no way that Lois Lane was going to let this go.
The next morning at the Daily Planet had been rough, though fortunately it proved easy to avoid Perry. Lois wasn’t up to facing her boss, not after what she had witnessed the night before. Her investigation into the mysterious dark figure in Suicide Slums had resulted in the discovery of ten similar men. One of which was unmasked, revealed to be none other than Jerry White, Perry’s deceased son. She knew she’d have to tell him if she saw her Chief, but Perry kept himself locked away in his office all morning, and midday Lois was out to chase another lead.
This time she left Jimmy behind. Mostly this was because he would just slow her down, and also because whatever this was, it was dangerous. Ten well trained men operating in unison was something that Jimmy Olsen wasn’t equipped to handle.
Truth-be-told, Lois hadn’t slept yet, only showered and changed. With Clark away, she wasn’t going to get much sleep anyway. It was strange almost how much she had become dependant on him being there, at least for the mundane things. Comfort was something Lois Lane had never planned on for her life, and the moments when she found it missing, it threw her off. Smallville had better get home soon.
In the meantime, she had a story to uncover.
So far, every encounter concerning this ‘Gangbuster’ (or now that she knew the truth of it, the ten operatives) revolved around gang-related activities. Lois had spent her morning chasing down leads and leaning on contacts, not to find the mystery ‘Gangbusters’. Rather, she knew if she found a sizable gang, there would no doubt be some busting to break in on. That is what had led her to underground storage facility on the edge of the Slums, as it was reputed to be turf for the Blue Sharks. They were a fairly small gang, but supposedly had happened upon some stashed Intergang weaponry, so they had some teeth to go with their bark. They weren’t the biggest gang left operating in the Slums, after the Purple People Eaters, but they were likely the next most dangerous. That seemed like the place to start to Lois.
As Lois approached the entry gate, she found it empty. “Well, that’s odd,” she said aloud. Surely the Sharks weren’t so cocky as to think they didn’t need a lookout. Lois slipped under the bar that served as a deterrent to vehicles. Good thing she was on foot. “Now, to see what I can fi–”
She silenced herself as there was a flash of light from within the network of storage spaces, and the accompanying sound of *FLWOOOSH!*. “That sounds like Intergang tech to me,” Lois noted in a whisper to herself as she headed towards the danger.
She navigated the lazy maze of storage compartments until she came to the center lot as other shots went off around her. “Fewer shots,” she noted aloud, which meant there were likely fewer of the Blue Sharks still standing.
Lois rounded a corner, and there she was at the open central space. On the ground were the Blue Shark members, in their bright blue jump suits and fin-headed blue helmets, as well as the weapons they had used. Over them, scattered around the space were the black-clad men she had encountered last night, all masked and startled to find her among them once more.
“Oh, don’t mind me, boys. I should be going anyway,” Lois backed up. “I have a story to go write.”
In a flash, the nearest one was on her. He grabbed for her wrist, but Lois yanked it free. He grabbed for her hair, but she ducked out of the way. “I’m a married woman,” she barked out, unsettled how her foe kept silent. “Keep your hands off!” He went for a tackle but she sidestepped, then grabbed his shoulders and spun. With a heavy *THUD* the man was delivered into the side of a storage unit.
Lois was startled as the next man was on her already, as he grabbed her elbow from behind. She planted her heel in his shin, and when he released her, she spun to face him. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not with them. I might be press, but I’m not a part of what you came here to stop!” The man silently reached for her, but Lois was ready. From her purse she quickly drew out a pepper sprayer while her other hand grabbed the man’s mask. She hauled it off and took aim, but paused for a moment. “Jerry?”
The face before her was unmistakable. It was Perry’s deceased son that stared back at her, more youthful than he had been at the time of death, and far angrier looking. Lois was paused for a split second with that shocking realization before she sprayed him across the eyes. “Whoever you are...not funny!” The guy, sprayed straight in the eyes, didn’t scream or even flinch. Lois grunted as she planted a foot into his hip and pushed him back, away.
Two more were on her, from either side. “I said hands off!” She swung the mace around, but it got swatted from her hand rather painfully. She kicked at the second man, which caught him off guard for a moment. “Whatever you think you can get from me, I assure you that you won’t be getting it!” She then swung her purse, but the man behind her caught it. Lois let it go and grabbed for the man in front of her, the one that had swatted her wrist. With a yank, she pulled off his mask too, because if she was going down then she at least wanted a better idea of what was going on.
The same as the other revealed man, a young Jerry White stared back at her. What the hell, she thought. “Stay back, all of you! In case you didn’t know, Superman is somewhat of a fan of mine, and ....”
“He’s not here right now, we both know that.”
Lois spun. She knew that voice. She had heard it all her life growing up.
“Dad?”
From the showers stepped Sam Lane, highly decorated army general. Yet now he was dressed much like the men here with him, all in blacks, though without the mask. He stared at his eldest daughter, his face stoic.
“What is going on here, father?” She couldn’t help herself from looking to the man she had unmasked. “They’re all like him, aren’t they? What are they, clones?”
“Something like that,” Lane answered his reporter daughter. “Though more, as well, but there is no need to get into that, at least not the specifics. There’s no need for the enemy to get all the details.”
“So what, I’m the enemy now? Dad, come on. What is happening here?”
“Maybe not the enemy directly, but you work for him. The press. You all do. And that alien. You can’t deny it, Lois.”
“Dad, you’re not making any sense. The press? What about the press. What about all of this? Why are these things here, dad? What have you done?”
“What is necessary.”
“Now you’re sounding like a lame action movie. That doesn’t explain anything. You’ve always done what is necessary, and little else,” Lois sighed and tried to not sound too bitter. “Though if you were ever dutiful to anything, it was your job.”
“And to America,” the General cut in there, “Always to America.” Before Lois could interrupt him, he explained. “I have taken steps to act, to ensure that not only will there be a future, but one safe from tyranny. This is just the beginning...”
“By cloning Perry’s dead son?! Dad, that doesn’t...”
“Perry raised him, but you forget who his real father was?”
“Luthor?!” It had been a cruel tactic of Lex’s, back in the day. He had seduced Perry’s wife, and being none-the-wiser, Perry had raised the boy as his own.
“There are a surprising number of high level clearances that are DNA-activated.”
Lois put her hands to her head in frustration. Was her father really suggesting what she thought he was? “Why here? I mean, the get-ups, the gang busting in the Slums...”
“Field testing.”
Lois ground her teeth. She always hated how he had an answer for everything, even when he was wrong. “You know I’m going to have to tell ...”
Sam Lane snorted at that. “Who? The President? It’s too late for Luthor to stop me. Perhaps the realization of what I have done will open his eyes, prepare him, though it will be in vain. Do you mean your boss, Perry? I think not. No, learning what has become of his exhumed son’s remains might just kill him, what with the recent bad news his doctor has shared with him. Do you mean the public, the ‘them’?” Sam snorted at his daughter again. “Or do you mean Superman. Oh, I hope you do, Lois. I want you to. I want him to come for me.”
“You’re mad.”
“Determined, honey. Very determined.” With that, Sam made an overhead ‘wrap it up gesture and his men moved to do just that. They gathered up their unconscious brethren and began to depart. Sam Lane turned to leave with them.
“I’ll tell all of them, dad.”
“Do what you will, Lois,” Sam tossed back as he left. “Though you might want to not spoil your sister’s big announcement tomorrow.” With that, he was gone, and Lois was left with more answers than questions. Yet, for once, she didn’t know what to do with them.
Steelworks
Metropolis
“You okay to get home?”
Zod regarded Superman with a lingering, cold stare. “Ask me that again, Kal-El, and you shall not draw another breath. Any concern for me is misplaced,” the General snarled, far more firm in his voice than he was in appearance. The battle in space had been a daunting one, and what remained of his armor hung from him in tattered remains. Yet, it had withstood the journey home from Jupiter, as Zod had insisted on accompanying Superman back to Metropolis. Whatever his unspoken concern for the Eradicator was, Zod did not speak of it and Superman knew better to ask. There had been a slight debate when the Kryptonians didn’t veer off to the Fortress of Solitude, but Superman explained that he knew of a better place to take the Eradicator. Zod objected, what with all of the Kryptonian technology at Superman’s private disposal, but then offered to take care of the badly damaged being himself in Pokolistan. Yet, Superman did not surrender his nearly dead friend as the Man of Steel insisted on the benefit of a pair of human hands to help repair and restore what had been done, and taken, from the Eradicator.
Together, they stood in the middle of Steelworks, on either side of the wide table that Eradicator was laid out on. With them was the man Superman sought to entrust Eradicator to: John Henry Irons, a man so brilliant that even Zod’s objections became silence.
“So noted,” Superman answered as he lowered his gaze to Kem-L. John Henry took this as a sign that he could begin, and started to attach several devices to the prone robot’s body. The General turned to leave. “Zod, wait. What happened up there...”
“Has told me all that I ever need to know about you, Kal-El. It has also reminded me a great deal about myself, and where we stand.” Zod did turn back now, shoulders set as he squared himself off against Superman once more with only the occupied operating table between them.
“It doesn’t have to be like this, Zod.”
“It does, Kal-El,” Zod replied quickly. “From our first contact to our last moment, we shall be in opposition. You lack the courage to do what is necessary. Further, you are weak as you fail to admit what is so evident. You would deny us all glory for the misguided sense of arbitrary justice.” With that, he gestured to the body between them. “Is this just?”
“No, this is sacrifice and dignity and honor. Its hope,” Superman answered faithfully and turned to look to a rather nervous John Henry. “It’s faith and trust. Kem-L gave up all that he had gained to spare us. That should be a reminder to us.”
“Or a wake-up call,” snorted Zod, clearly disgusted by the display of morality that Superman was giving him.
“A reminder,” stressed Superman as a response, “to not surrender to temptation. That the solution, any solution, is not always the easiest one before us.”
“Lie to yourself all you wish, Kal-El, I am tired of listening to it.” Zod turned his back on Superman and strode towards the door. “What is to come next, know that what mercy I had was left on Jupiter.” In an angry streak of red, he was gone.
A silence fell over the room then as both remaining men watched the General leave long after he was gone, unsure of what to say to one another. The hush was broken with an intrusive, “Well, that was awkward.”
John Henry and Superman turned to see Natasha Irons standing there, dressed for a lazy day as she was still in her pajamas despite it being well past noon. John was about to ask what she was doing there, but Superman was quicker to the punch, as he gave a thankful smile. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“So, what happened up there?” John Henry couldn’t contain it any longer, as he didn’t have the opportunity to ask before now. Superman and Zod had just shown up with a lifeless Eradicator, no less. He knew the time for details would be coming, so now seemed like the appropriate time. Nat was too curious to know herself to return to bed, as the arrival was far too noisy to not have noticed. She pulled up a rolling swivel stool to listen too.
“Kem-L’s pilgrimage was cut short when he was captured by a rogue program, or Protocol, that had been ejected by Brainiac. It took control of him and used him to eradicate whole planets, after studying them. Kem-L was able to contact me, but I fear I arrived too late to spare him from lasting damage, and despite his condition he sacrificed his humanity to distract this Protocol long enough for me to get free. Zod was also there as he had received the same message I did, and while we battled Protocol’s forces on a derelict Warworld, Kem-L fought on by attacking Protocol’s computer systems. The fight drained him, severely, so...”
“What we have here,” John cut in, “is what we have to work with. Don’t worry, Superman, we’ll get him back.”
“I’ll help,” Nat promised, quick and eager.
That helped Superman to smile once more. “I know you will, you both will. Thank you.” He sighed, mostly in relief and looked down to his friend on the table. “Whatever resources you need from the Fortress, you have them. Kelex will be glad to bring them, I’m sure. He misses you,” he spoke as he looked up to Natasha.
“Ugh, maybe,” Nat rolled her eyes and then hopped to her feet. She moved to join her uncle, as he continued to plug tubes and attach implements to Eradicator. Nat was eager to help, as well as to get off that topic. “I feel kinda guilty about that, subverting his normal operating standard and all of that.”
“You impressed him, clearly,” Superman noted. “Take it as a testament to your vibrant personality.”
The Irons snorted together, but not out of malice, as they grinned at Superman. He was right, of course, that Natasha was a strong, unique person, but it was hard to get past the fact that machine had bent to the strength of her character. “A personality that should get her butt in gear and finish those college applications she’s been stalling on for the last couple of weeks.”
“Well, I can’t now that there is such important work to focus on!” Nat took it upon herself to follow her uncle’s lead, and started to attach diagnostic equipment to Eradicator as well. Like John Henry, she was a brilliant engineer, with a mind for technical mechanics that was second only to his. “Maybe if we set him in a suit of your armor, unc, he’d be able to get some juice? It’s looking like a powering up problem from where I’m standing.”
“I thought about that too,” John Henry answered. “However, until we know the extent of the damage, we don’t want to provide too much of a power supply. Least we overcharge his systems.”
“Yeah, that could be bad,” Nat winced as clearly she’d hadn’t thought of that.
“What can I do to help?” Superman had remained back to watch the pair work, but like Nat, he was eager to help. He wanted to roll up his sleeves and get in there, as Kem-L deserved nothing less.
“You could go home for one,” John said as he looked up.
“Not while I could be of use here,” Superman answered.
“You’ve been gone how long? Lois might want her update. In person,” Natasha chimed in.
“True,” mused Superman.
“Besides, you’ll want to get refreshed and changed.” Superman raised his brow to John Henry at that. What had he forgotten? “Today’s the day, after all,” Mr. Irons went on, “when Vice President Pete Ross is to be released from the hospital to Smallville.”
“Right,” Superman winced. With the nightmares he had been plagued with, that subliminal cry for help from Eradicator, he had been desperate to get to the bottom of that immediately. He’d nearly forgotten about Pete’s release. There was also Perry’s birthday coming up in a week, Maggie at the children’s hospital in Beirut who he had promised to come back for before her chemo treatments, the interior star of the trans-spatial array at the Fortress he had to check on, the Metropolis Special Crimes Unit banquet that he had to make an appearance at...it was all coming back to him in a rush.
He looked up, to say something to the Irons. However, Natasha shooed him with a gesture. “Go!”
Superman nodded and cast a last glance to Kem-L. He’d be back, as right now he had somewhere else he needed to be.
Warworld
Somewhere adrift inside Jupiter’s atmosphere
“We’re aboard, sir.”
Mok made sure that he was the first of his Darkstar crew that boarded Warworld. He had survived, barely, from the attack on his scouting cruiser at the remains of the planet Xermit. He had lost his longtime partner, Krillu and their junior member Ll, as well as his left arm. Half of his face was missing as well, and what remained of his rocky body was fractured with deep cracks. Warworld had left him for dead, so Commander Mok should have been thankful for his race’s unnatural life signature readings. It had spared him, and then the backup crew that had found him had saved him. Now, he was pissed.
They had tracked Warworld from Xermit to the Sol System, and from there to Jupiter only to have arrived too late for justice. That had been conducted before their arrival, it would seem as now the planetoid was a motionless, energy-less husk once more.
“Lots of fighting happened here,” said the tall, powerful blue-skinned Darkstar to Mok’s left. Puul was a veteran to combat and hailed from a race of war worshipping Thax, so the commander could trust his comrade’s assessment. “Multiple combatants,” Puul noted further as he gestured to various sites over the broken landscape. “Powerful ones. Those were done by hands. Strong ones.”
“I’ve got readings, commander,” came the wispy voice from behind. Her form was feminine, though her face was hidden by the domed helmet she had to wear. “By the radiation, it was at least two Kryptonians.”
“Thank you, Quail,” grunted Mok. Superman. That is who it had to have been, the commander knew, as this was in Kal-El’s backyard. Out of respect for the alien, Mok knew that they should have sent word ahead that the Darkstars would be in this sector of space, to either the Lanterns or maybe Earth’s Justice League. He should have sent a message back to Darkstar Command as to where he had taken the crew of his rescue ship, but Mok had been determined to find the attacker. He’d lost too much, seen too many obliterated worlds. “Have helmsman Markel bring the ship in, so we can begin a full scan. Whatever it was that killed Krillu,” his beloved Krillu, “and rookie Ll might still be here, in hiding.”
Was it wrong that he wished it was? Mok clenched his remaining fist.
Quail and Puul spread out, expanding their examinations in either direction. Scores of salvage, which had once been attack drones, were scattered all over the surface as well as adrift in the high-winds around them. They had discovered Warworld within the atmosphere of Jupiter, and Puul surmised that it had not ended up by its own control. The massive crater that Mok stood before that reached all the way in to the planetoid core was a testament to that. “Helmsman H’tx, I want you to establish a link back to command now,” Mok ordered as he looked upwards. The Darkstar cruiser came into view as it came closer. “Tell them th–!”
The ship exploded in a flurry of light and debris. But not from beneath, as a figure tore through the ship from above. The cruiser was gone, and H’tx with it.
Mok growled, but before he could command it, already the battle-prone Puul leapt to action. The Thaxian took to the air to intercept the attacking figure and energy flared from his outstretched hands. “Mistake to attack us! You deal with Darkstars now!”
The energy blasts deflected off the figure, who changed course to drive into Puul. The two crashed to the battered surface of Warworld with tremendous force, and a spray of orange mist. Thaxians were insect like, so with Puul’s exoskeleton reptured...
“Whoever you are, you shall not leave here!” Mok raised his hand and fired. The beam was swatted aside by the figure as it rose.
“Sir, those radiation levels, its Kryptonian again, only...”
That’s as far as Quail got in her relay of information. A pair of ruby red beams lanced from the figure’s eyes and cut her in half. She didn’t complete her sentence nor have the chance to scream.
“Different,” the figure smiled as it stepped forward. The debris and Thaxian mist gave way to reveal a humanoid man, red-caped and wearing a distinctive S-shaped shield.
“S-Superman?” Mok was taken aback, but then almost immediately saw his mistake. This man might be human in form but his body was angular, red and metallic. This was Cyborg.
There was a blur and before Mok could react Cyborg had him by the throat. “No, like I said…something different,” the metallic-man smiled with a wide, satisfied sinister grin. Mok choked but was unable to answer further as his throat became dust as Cyborg crushed it.
Cyborg turned and surveyed what lay before him. He had taken time to track Eradiator, and he had arrived too late to claim his desired prize. However this...this would do nicely as a consolation prize. Already he extended his mind to the cyber systems he detected and tendrils extended from his legs into Warworld as he expanded his interfacing to have a more complete connection with the planetoid. Crippled as it was, his dominance of all that was left would be complete in moments. He lent power to Warworld, as he had plenty to spare and soon it began to pull away from Jupiter under Cyborg’s direction. He could, and would, put this to use...but not here, not now. Not with so much preparation to be done.
In space, Cyborg cast a glance in the direction that Earth would be. When the time was right, Superman would be coming to him. There was no need to go to Earth now. Not yet.
“Don’t worry,” the madman chuckled to himself, “I shall be back for you soon enough.” With that, he departed for deep space.
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The End...
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