This tale takes place in the “Earth-K” universe, my imaginary playground whose past is the Glorithverse, and where the Batch SW6 Legion eventually morphs into the Reboot Legion. This particular story takes place within, and near the beginning, of the 5-Year-Gap.

The Legion has been dissolved by order of UPGov. Blok and the Black Witch rule the extra-dimensional Sorcerer’s World. The former Justice League of Earth is imprisoned on Takron-Galtos, excepting the deceased Earth-Man. Phantom Girl has returned to Bgztl. Dawnstar, Wildfire, Tellus, Timber Wolf, and Yera Allon are lost in time, presumed dead. Sun Boy and Star Boy have also died. Brainiac 5 is a Ward of the State on Colu, being underage. Lar Gand lies comatose on Talok VIII, somewhere between life and death.

If anyone cares, the events related here pre-date the story currently running in “Klar Ken T5477’s Last Tales” by some two-and-a-half centuries. But they explain much of what will eventually occur there.

I expect to post one short chapter approximately every other day.

HOW IT ALL STARTED: Scene One: Weben’s World AD 2975

The anti-grav elevator only went to the ninety-ninth floor. No doubt there was another one somewhere in the building that would take him to the one-hundred-third, but at this point, it was easier to simply walk the spiraling ramps the rest of the way. The hallways were a maze; he had had to ask directions from three guidebots already. At last, he reached found the room he was looking for. He slipped his passtag into the lockport, and was not surprised when it was not returned.

“You’re late, Dag Wentim” said the Aressien Sand Octopus at the reception desk. Sand Octopi were mildly telepathic; even without the IDs in his passtag, he would not have been surprised that it knew his name. “Proceed at once to your appointment.” It waved a tentacle at a faux-wood door.

The holo on the door read:

Hon. Don Carcharo
Junior Deputy Solicitor
Offices of the United Planets Attorneys General
Probate Division

It was another long walk to the far side of the room. It was at least a hundred feet long, and just as wide. On a raised dais sat a beefy, grey-skinned, silver-eyed normal humanoid. He wore the Solicitor’s Hood which identified him as a United Planets legal officer. A protocol droid stood to one side of the dais.There were only three other seats: Dag was surprised to see that the occupants were familiar to him.

“Be seated,” the protocol droid intoned. “Recording: Hearing In the Matter of the Probate regarding Throon.”

“Ahem.” The Deputy Solicitor cleared his throat. “I believe no introductions are necessary. Ral Benem of Mardru, Staq Mavlin of Schwar, Dag Wentim of Zwen, you have been summoned to this hearing, to appear in person, as is the long-standing custom in these matters. Because of the unusual nature of the matter, we have provided funding for your transportation from your homeworlds, at the expense of UPGov. It was our desire that none of you have no cause to forgo this meeting.”

“I am to read the Last Will and Testament of the Last Sons of Throon, as follows:

“We, Ezer and Eben, being of sound mind, and as the last of our race, do hereby bestow and bequeath all rights, titles, and obligations of the civilization of Throon, including, but not limited to, the planet Throon and the Citadel thereon, and all its contents and appurtenances, to the Legion of Heroes who defeated us in fair contest. We exhort and entreat the United Planets to honor this dying wish of a dying race.”

Solicitor Carcharo continued:


“This ends the testament. It is remarkably brief.”

“It was transmitted from Throon six months ago, with appropriate United Planets notarizations, authorizations, and security codes from two separate and respected UP law firms, who have chosen to remain anonymous. Due to the liberal nature of the bequest, the matter was referred here, to the Offices of the Attorneys General.

“As the Legion of Super-Heroes was dissolved as a legal entity several months before the receipt of this transmission, it was initially determined that the assets named in this bequest would revert to the United Planets Government proper, that Throon would be then opened to colonization, and ultimately be positioned to become a United Planets member world. However, a review of the historical record shows that it was not the Legion of Super-Heroes, but the Legion of Substitute Heroes who defeated the Throonians. Specifically, yourselves, Brek Bannin of Tharr, and Lydda Jath of Kathoon. As Mr. Bannin and Ms. Jath left the Substitutes for the now-defunct Legion, that leaves you three as the sole heirs.

“Surely you can see without further explanation that the situation is wholly untenable. To allow just three citizens the ownership of an entire world-- and one beyond the purview of the United Planets-- and to leave them the artifacts of an entire unknown civilization— why, the archaeological findings alone would be priceless.

As holographic documents appear before the three Substitutes, Solicitor Carcharo continues:

“We have prepared documents for you to sign, deeding Throon back to the United Planets. We are prepared to apply one million credits each to your accounts, in consideration of this agreement, immediately upon the filing of these documents.”

Solicitor Carcharo sits back comfortably in his chair, a solicitous smile on his face. The three Substitutes do not even exchange glances, but sit back just as comfortably in theirs. After a few moments, Solicitor Carcharo prompts them again.

“Have I been unclear? Completion of those documents will make each of you an immediate millionaire. The transaction can be completed before you leave this room.”

Looking straight at the Solicitor, Ral Benem intoned: “As Chlorophyll Kid, currently elected leader of the Substitutes, I call to order an ex tempore meeting of the Legion of Substitute Heroes.” Ral Benem cleared his throat. “The matter at hand is the generous offer made by UPGov to our members.”

“I move,” offered Staq Mavlin, “that we respectfully decline the offer of the United Planets Offices of the Attorneys General”

“WHAT!?” Solicitor Carcharos expostulated.

“I second the motion,” Dag Wentim amended.

“Then I call for a vote,” Ral Benem suggested. “All in favor.”

“Aye.”

“Aye.”

“Aye. The motion is carried unanimously. Thank you, your Honor, but as Legion Leader and Spokesman, I must report that we respectfully decline your offer. We ask that the United Planets respect out claim to Throon.”

“We had not anticipated this response,” Solicitor Carcharo replied. “We ask that you remain on Weber’s World until upper management has a chance to review this new information. You may not yet consider this matter a fait accompli. I am sure we will be able to contact you once we have come to a determination regarding how this matter is to be handled further.”

* * *

The three Substitutes regrouped on the street outside the massive office complex. Chlorophyll Kid was checking his Omnicom.

“Well, they’ve frozen our credit accounts,” he said. The others nodded in agreement. “I sincerely doubt that they did not anticipate our response.”

“That means nowhere to eat, nowhere to sleep, and no way to get back to our homeworlds.” Fire Lad observed. “They want us to give in quickly.”

“If we could find a public park, preferably with statuary, I would have a place to sleep.” Stone Boy noted.

“And I can feed us all, if we can find a small space of free soil,” Chlorophyll Kid noted, patting a small packet of seeds at his belt. “I even have some seeds in here that the right person might find valuable.”

“What we need,” Fire Lad advised, “is to find a bail bondsman.”

His companions stared at him, perplexed.

* * *

{to be continued}

Awesome! Looking forward to more! Any story that starts off with the Subs is good by me

HOW IT ALL STARTED: Scene Two: Space

Kitsuné Dogstar was not her real name, but as her real name was something like barkbarkyipyipyipwoofbark Kitsuné Dogstar was good enough for her human clients. Her ship was centuries old, carefully preserved by loving owners who were too cheap or broke to buy a decent one. It had an ancient inertialess drive and used artificial worm-hole generating hardware for FTL jumps. And it was small. Two people were a tight fit, and three was surely pushing it.

Chlorophyll Kid and Fire Lad were in the seat to her right. Stone Boy, while asleep at least, could ride as cargo.

“OK, I’ve reserved a room for one night, just outside the HH Spaceport,” she reported. “Dinner and breakfast included, and they’ll kick you out at 11am.” She checked the distance from Weber’s World. “Hang on tight, we’re going FTL in ten.”

Space opened up before them. Going through the wormhole felt like being the proverbial camelopard drawn through the eye of a needle, but you had to trust in the Normalizers®. They emerged just beyond the Cyclopean array, inside the orbit of Neptune. It was almost as bad as an asteroid field: millions of solitary telescopes, now pointing haphazardly in every direction. There had even been collisions over the centuries. Five hundred years ago, they had all been connected to a central integrating CGI telescope named A.R.G.U.S., but the technology was so outdated no one but archaeologists even bothered to think about it anymore. No one had ever cleaned it up. Did you clean up the charred mammoth bones and stone knives of your ancestors?

The old NaviComp had plotted a safe course through the debris. Kitsuné Dogstar set the ship on autopilot, and leaned back in her chair.

“I’ve reduced our velocity to just under lightspeed. We should be landing in South-Eastern Metropolis in just under five and a half hours. Now would be a good time to settle up.”

“She is asking for payment, Ral,” Fire Lad explained.

“We are on official business,” Chlorophyll Kid reminded him. “Call me Chlorophyll Kid.”

“A Zwenite, a Mardroon, and a Schwaran. How did you three end up on Weber’s World together?” Kitsuné asked.

Chlorophyll Kid had extracted a small test-tube and a pair of tweezers from his pouch. “Have you ever heard of the Legion of Super-Heroes?”

“You guys are Legionnaires?” Kitsuné exclaimed. “Wow. That is amazing.”

“No,” Chlorophyll Kid explained. “We are founding members of the Legion of Substitute Heroes, almost as old as the Legion itself.” He had extracted one of three small specks of dust from the test-tube.

“The what of what!?” Kitsuné exclaimed.

“I will need to drop this into your hair. That is the only way it will bloom,” said Chlorophyll Kid. It was a tight squeeze in the cabin, but he managed to drop the speck into Kitsuné’s curly, poodle-like mane.

“And how is Staq friends with a professional bounty hunter?” Chlorophyll Kid asked. “And may I add, you must be good.
That bail bondsman knew where to contact you instantly.”

Ral was concentrating his powers on the speck of dust in Kitsuné’s hair.

“Staq is not exactly a friend. He helped me out of a jam once on Schwar. Your friend is kind of a big deal there.”

“Really? Planetary Champion and all that, I suppose?” Chlorophyll Kid’s gaze did not drift to Fire Lad, although he was nearly sitting on his lap.

“No,” replied Fire Lad. “I’m a… correspondent… for the Spaulding Explorer’s Magazine. It’s pretty popular on Schwar. I write up an article on every new planet I visit.”

“You’ve been keeping a travelogue of our adventures?” Chlorophyll Kid seemed shocked. The speck in Kitsuné’s hair had begun to shoot out roots and begin to grow. It was of macroscopic size now.

“Pretty much,” Fire Lad admitted. “Although the adventure part really doesn’t enter into it much. Mostly I do articles on the food, atmosphere, culture… that sort of thing. Schwarans are notoriously provincial and risk-averse. The Substitute’s exploits would… over-excite… many of my people. One reason I’m such a popular correspondent is that I’m the only employee of Spauding Explorer that has ever actually been off-planet.”

“Wow,” Chlorophyll Kid exclaimed. “All these years, you think you know a guy. You’re a real psychotic on your homeworld, aren’t you?” A strange flower had now bloomed in Kitsuné’s hair.

“This is the telepathic plant?” she asked.

“It’s called an Ayrie, the larval form of the Blue Lasma. Right now, it probably thinks you’re its mother. Over the next few days, it should bond with you, and will begin to display its telepathic abilities. Ayrie spend centuries in their larval stage, so it will be with you for a long time. When you’re ready to turn it loose and let it grow wild, you should probably plant it in or over about a ton of limestone.”

Kitsuné eyed him suspiciously. “I would imagine that a lot of what you have in that pouch is illegal in most of the Galaxy.”

“Nope, not really.” Chlorophyll Kid replied. “Mostly, they’re too rare. Nobody even knows most of this stuff exists. I have—had—the only three Ayrie spores in the United Planets, as far as I know.”

“You know I can find you if this thing wilts away in a couple of days,” Kitsuné warned. “I am very, very good at my job.”

“Hey, satisfaction completely guaranteed,” Fire Lad replied. “Once my credit accounts are unfrozen, you can even trade that flower in for UPcreds. And debt completely repaid. You ought to remember, though, that you would probably still be sitting in that kennel on Schwar if I hadn’t posted bail. Schwarans aren’t exactly xenophobic, just unsophisticated at recognizing alien sentients.”

“Well, the speed with which you wanted to leave Weber’s World leads me to believe that it may be some time before they unfreeze your accounts,” Kitsuné observed. “And now, I’m going to recline this seat, and catch a quick nap. I’ll see you again when we reach Earth orbit.”

It had been a long day. Chlorophyll Kid tried to get some sleep as well, but Fire Lad sparked while he slept, and it was a little alarming.

{to be continued}

This is great so far! I am really amused by the idea of Staq being self-conscious about his thrilling job as a travel journalist

Wow! this is turning out to be a very interesting story. Love the Ayrie. Kitsune is turning out to be an interesting character. The background on Schwar gives more insight into that world than over 50 years of Legion issues ever have! Love Staq as travel writer.

And of course, the whole premise of these three owning an entire world. Wow!

Klar, this is great fun! The premise is tremendous - the Subs owning a planet full of a dead civilization and the UP trying to stop them getting their hands on it - is a hoot and you seem to have a great grip on their characters already. Particularly loved Ral's confession that he has seeds so rare they probably aren't cataloged anywhere and Staq's secret writings. I always enjoy how leftfield your writing is, it's always a fabulous python-esque rollercoaster ride where the only thing to expect is the unexpected, so I'm really looking forward to seeing where you take this next.

More, more, more!

razsolo, Invisible Brainiac, Harbinger: Thank you, you are all so kind.

These.

HOW IT ALL STARTED: Scene Three: Digression: Kitsuné's Story

<Note: For anyone who wants to draw Kitsuné Dogstar for me, I picture her as something like a cross between a poodle and a fox. Fox-like face with reddish-brown fur, a mane of curly, inky-black poodle-like hair cascading down her back. Her hands and feet are small and dainty, almost paw-like; she does have opposable thumbs. Descended from cannoids, her knees bend ‘the wrong way’, from the human point of view. No tail. Generally wears loose, comfortable clothing in non-descript colors, except when she is wearing a standard flight suit. Since her meeting with the Subs, she wears an Ayrie flower in her hair.>

* * *

In most of the United Planets, it is very, very difficult to disappear. With telepathic and psionic law enforcement agents used to dealing with invisible, intangible, and shape-shifting populace, a standardized universal I.D., and a fully computerized, artificially intelligent financial system, the barriers to getting truly ‘lost’ are very high indeed.

When someone gets lost, they get very, very lost.

And when someone gets lost who was involved in the U.P. criminal justice system, and especially one who skipped out on a bail bondsman, you need a bounty hunter who is very, very good.

Kitsuné Dogstar is a bounty hunter.

* * *

Sometime in the recent past:

“I’d like to see the… er…tenant…in four-forty-eight,” Staq Mavlin requested.

“You’re lucky you came today,” the guard answered. “It’s ready to be shipped to Vorm tomorrow, released into the wild. Best thing for them all, really. It’s a big one, too. And dangerous: bites and all that. You sure?”

“Yes, I’d like to take a look.”

The guard led him to a large cell numbered “448”. “That’s it, then.”

It was Kitsuné Dogstar. “Could you leave us alone together for a few minutes?” Staq asked.

“Well, not really alone,” replied the guard. “The surveillance cameras are always on—for your own safety, you know.”

“Thanks, yes,” Staq answered. When the guard had left, he turned his back to the camera. “Do you know why you’re here?” he asked.

“What’s wrong with these people!” Kitsuné Dogstar exploded. “Doesn’t anyone here understand Interlac? Are you my attorney? I’ve only been asking for one for six days!”

“Do you know Judy’s Law?” Staq asked. “‘What cannot be believed, cannot be seen.’ Or in your case, heard. No one else on this world believes you can speak, therefore, no one can hear you when you do.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re from Gamma Leporis 2, right?”
“Yeah, I’m from Gamma Lepore, but we but call it Yipp.”

“And you don’t know much about Schwar, do you?”

“I don’t know why I’m in prison, that’s for sure. OK, I did not exactly use an authorized Starport. And maybe I did skimp a little on the cultural research prep. But I dropped my utility belt, so I didn’t have any weapons. I put up my hands, I didn’t offer any resistance. I figured that’s universal in dealing with the SP. But they stunned me anyway, and I woke up here.”

“Look, you have to understand, most Schwarans are not used to… off-worlders. You’re not in prison.”

“Then where am I?”

“You’re in the Pound.”

The guard heard some sustained barking from the cages area. Some of it sounded almost like cursing. He checked the surveillance monitors. The big animal Mr. Mavlin was looking at seemed to be going wild.

* * *

“Well, I thank you for getting me out of there,” said Kitsuné
Dogstar. “Send me a bill for whatever bail cost you. I always pay my debts.”

“The money’s not important,” said Staq. “Glad to help a fellow being. I have your utility belt as well: I hope it’s all there. Interesting stuff: flash bombs, blackout bombs, grappling ropes, Qwik-On® handcuffs, a pretty good electronic lock-pick kit, a neural paralyzer. If you don’t mind my asking, what are you doing here on Schwar?”

“I’m a bounty hunter. I’m chasing down a big Venturan tax cheat; converted all his credit accounts to hard assets—jewels, precious metals, and so forth—and absconded. He had under-the-table surgery to make himself look Schwaran. Figured he must be hiding out here. I get a percentage of the back taxes UPGov recovers. Guess that makes me a publican, too.”

“Must be that guy they’ve been holding down at County all week. They can’t get an ID out of him. He may look Schwaran, but he couldn’t act it.”

“Do you know absolutely everything that happens on this planet?”

“Everybody on Schwar knows everybody else’s business. It’s like a planet-sized small town. Very backward. Very parochial. Almost nobody ever goes anywhere, almost nobody ever does anything. So when anything at all happens, it’s big news.”

“But you’re different. You seem almost… normal. You’ve been off-world?”

“Yeah, I’m Mister Adventure.”

“Well, want to hear a real adventure? I’m going to ‘County’, where I’ll identify my rabbit, serve the warrant, spring him from Schwar, and take him back to lock-up on Ventura to stand trial.”

“Rabbit?”

“It’s a professional term.”

“Well, I’ll take you to County, but I’ll have to be the one to show them the warrant, and I’ll have to tell them you can identify him.”

“Are those the terms of my release? I’m in your custody, or something?”

“Sort of. I’m… well, as long as you’re on Schwar, I’m legally…”

“What?”

“In order to get you out of the Pound, I had to adopt you. I’m your owner.”

* * *

"Yes, please, get me out of here," the man in the cell pleaded. "The high gravity, the thin atmosphere-- how do you breathe? And the food-- nauseating."

"Food was pretty good where I was," Kitsuné remarked.

"You're sure this is..." the SP officer looked at the warrant. "Rayne Ande, wanted on Ventura for tax fraud."

"Kitsuné positively identifies him," Staq Mavlin answered. The guard opened the cell door. Kitsuné immediately snapped the Qwik-On® handcuffs around Ande's wrists. He now could not go ten meters from her without a nasty shock.

"That's a right smart animal," the SP officer remarked. Kitsuné suppressed a growl.

* * *

Kitsuné had landed her runabout next to Rayne Ande's ship. Hers was small, sleek, aerodynamic, and rust-spotted. His was big and square, shaped like a boxfish. Kitsuné pulled a portable sensor-scanner from her belt. "Quite the cargo," Kitsuné noted. "Kismetic technology, raw densite, dazzle gems, bars of spectrum metal and gold-pressed latinum, vials of serum XY-4... and all guarded by a piece of Living Money. You did quite well on Ventura, Mr. Ande. Quite a treasure trove,"

"And Ventura will impound it all," Ande lamented, "And auction it for half-price. It won't even cover back taxes and penalties. I'll end up working it off in the casinos."

"And you would have gotten away with it all, if it hadn't been for us meddling kids," said Staq.

Kitsuné looked at him peculiarly."Can the Schwaran SP be trusted to keep this area blocked off as a crime scene?" she asked. "My ship isn't large enough, and my tractor beam is in need of parts; I'll have to have the Venturan SP come back to pick it all up."

"Actually, I'm a pretty fair pilot," he said. "If you like, I'll follow you to Ventura."

"And can I trust you?" she asked.

"You're the bounty hunter. Could you find me again if I went off-course?" Staq pulled a ring from off his hand. It was gold, with a simple black stone engraved with an interlac "S". "I'll give this to you as a token of my trustworthiness," he said. "Believe me, it's worth more to me than anything in Mr. Ande's cargo."

Kitsuné gave him another questioning look. "OK, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. It makes things much more convenient for be, returning quarry and cargo together." She smiled a sharp, toothy smile.. "But you will find I'm not very forgiving. I don't turn the other cheek; I don't have any cheeks to turn."

* * *

At the Ventura Starport, Staq waited for the regular shuttle back to Ventura.

Kitsuné sat down next to him “I left SPHQ with a promissory note,” she informed him. “But I’ve got another assignment that will pay off more quickly. I don’t ignore my debts.” She handed Staq back his ring. "Thanks again for your help," she said.

"I have something for you," said Staq, fishing a small, disc-shaped piece of aluminum out of his pocket. "They gave me this at the Pound. It's your license. "

Her eyes said disgust, but she accepted the disc from him anyway. “Does this mean we’re engaged? You know, I’m probably more than twice your age.”

“Actually, if you ever return to Schwar, wear that tag, and no one will bother you. You can move about essentially unseen.”

“Thanks, I don’t think I’ll be visiting your homeworld again. I think I’d rather throw this into an electric furnace.”

But two years later, Staq noticed it still hung in an empty spot on her instrument panel.

{NEXT: Back to our story}

Nice flashback, Klar. Staq and Kitsune are turning out to be an interesting pair. Love the name too! Kitsune. Even if she has no mystical background it suits her.

HOW IT ALL STARTED: Scene Four: Metropolis, Earth: Historic Site of the Cave of Justice

The hotel room was entirely satisfactory. Chlorophyll Kid got an excellent night’s rest, and Fire Lad got caught up on his sleep entirely. Stone Boy, on the other hand, watched holo-documentaries or paced the halls all night. He had spent eleven hours in stasis on the ship, and it was still three months until his actual hibernation period.

The food would have earned two stars out of five.

Kitsuné Dogstar called from the Pherkard System to report that the Ayrie had woken up, and that they were now in symbiotic telepathic communication.

“It’s an energy-eater,” Chlorophyll Kid explained. “All it needs is plenty of light and it should do fine.”

“I’ve decided to call her ‘Item’,” Kitsuné said, “You realize that the UPGov will be able to track you three easily through your Omnicom signals?”

“Not a problem,” Chlorophyll Kid answered. “We haven’t broken any laws; we can’t be arrested or detained. We’ve just flown under their radar, that’s all.”

“{Besides}, he added to himself, “{We’re operating on closed and scrambled frequencies now, using secure Legion of Substitute Heroes communication nodes. If they try to track the Omnicoms of Ral Benem, Staq Mavlin, and Dag Wentim, we will still appear to be in Vitallium Park on Weber’s World.}”

It was the 62nd of the First Wintermonth by the Earth calendar. Christmas had been the day before, which was an important holiday in the Northern Hemisphere. Most of the tourists in the queue were parents and children on vacation, or a parent and children. Their guide looked to be pure Terran, and slightly hung over from the previous day’s festivities, although she barely looked old enough to drink. The spiel had changed a lot since they had last been here, before the xenophobe cleansing.

“The Justice League of America was one of the first cooperative organizations of extraterrestrials,” the guide recited. “Earth, Mars, the Iotians, Thanagar, the Green Lanterns of Oa, and of course, the Superman from Krypton, all played important roles in the founding of this organization.”

Staq, Dag, and Ral waited patiently as the line moved on past the various exhibits.

“In more recent times, the Cave of Justice was home to the Substitutes, a group affiliated with the Legion of Super-Heroes. It appears that they were unaware that this had been Justice League Headquarters ten centuries earlier. Later, the Substitutes took up residence in the original Legion Clubhouse, when a more modern Legion Headquarters was constructed. These caverns were once again left empty. It was only after archaeologists took an interest in this site that it was discovered that historic twentieth-century artifacts lay behind these walls.”

“Remember when Lydda carved out this annex with her own hands?” Fire Lad whispered. “Are you sorry we abandoned this place?”

“{Not entirely abandoned},” thought Chlorophyll Kid. The three Substitutes drifted apart, away from the crowd; everyone was examining the museum displays. They met behind a transparent plasteel case, shielded from view by containing a mannequin dressed as a twentieth-century Justice League adversary, the android villain Amazo. Once the tour group had moved on, they back-tracked to what was apparently an empty, smooth section of wall.

It was barely possible to make out the outline of a handprint. Chlorophyll pressed his palm against the indentation, and a narrow, hidden panel slid open. The Substitutes disappeared behind the stone barrier. It closed behind them.

The restored Legion cruiser had been state-of-the-art fifteen years earlier, but had taken a lot of fixing up. The warp coils had been upgraded, the inner hull re-sealed. Dimples, dents, rust-spots and scorch-marks still covered the outer hull, but the Substitutes looked at them as badges of honor.

Stone Boy took his usual place at the helm. As both pilot and navigator, he had the complete confidence and trust of his two comrades. The grass-covered panels hidden in the top of the mountain slid away as the cruiser flew straight up and out into the open atmosphere.

A transmission almost immediately blared throughout the cabin.

“Attention Legion of Substitute Heroes. This is Metropolis HH Spaceport. You are in possession of an unregistered Star Cruiser. Please descend immediately.”

Fire Lad replied by transmitting the current registration number, licensing, and insurance data. For good measure, he filed a flight plan, to Zwen and Mardru, terminating at Schwar.

“Attention Legion of Substitute Heroes. This is Metropolis HH Spaceport. You are operating a vehicle without an approved flight plan. Please return to Spaceport immediately.”

They waited a beat.

“Flight plan approved pending confirmation from Weber’s World.”

“Since when do Spaceports need to approve ordinary flight plans to member planets through EarthGov?” Chlorophyll Kid asked.

“This is Metropolis HH Spaceport. According to Weber’s World, the Legion of Substitute Heroes is hereby dissolved as a United Planets Organization, and all its property is forfeit to the Prime Marshall and Offices of the Attorneys General. You are now operating a vehicle which is the property of others. Please return to Spaceport immediately.”

“Thank you, Spaceport,” Fire Lad answered. “If you will review our registration, you will see that this cruiser is the sole, private and personal property of Staq Mavlin of Schwar. It is not, and has never been the property of any group or organization. I am merely using my personal vehicle to return to my homeworld, and dropping two friends off along the way.”

“You will also find,” he continued, “that the Legion of Substitute Heroes is a private association of free citizens, exercising our right to assemble, as guaranteed under the U.P. Constitution. It has never been required to register as a United Planets Organization, and cannot be dissolved by them.”

There was a longer pause at the other end of the line.

“Cruiser, there is a malfunction in the polymer shield surrounding Earth’s atmosphere. We are unable to open a passage through the shield for you at this time. Please return to the nearest Spaceport or Starport.”

“Malfunction noted, Metropolis HH Spaceport. Please transmit course changes to nearest working portal.”

“Cruiser, we have received word that the entire polymer shield system is temporarily malfunctioning world-wide. Please return to the nearest Spaceport or Starport, or hold your current postion for UPGov and SP assistance.”

“Something else else is seriously wrong with this scenario,” Chlorophyll Kid observed. “Who in the United Planets can want one tiny planetoid so badly that they are willing to disrupt all space traffic on Earth, even for a few minutes?”

“I don’t know,” said Stone Boy, “But I’m glad for the modifications we made when we refurbished this ship.”

“Metropolis HH Spaceport,” Fire Lad transmitted, “We are approaching the polymer shield. We you’re your request to hold formation beneath the shield.”

Stone Boy headed straight for the polymer shield, accelerated, and then hit a big red shiny button on the dashboard. The ship sailed through the polymer shield as if it were not there.

Technically, it is not illegal to have a Cloak installed on a private Terran vessel. However, it is prohibitively expensive, and the red tape involved in the process of arranging interplanetary / interdimensional engineering access is virtually interminable. This makes Bgztlr Phantom Cloak® installation untenable for private Terran vessels.

Unless you are Winema Wazzo.

All the Legion cruisers had Bgztlr Phantom Cloak® technology integrated into their systems.

Of course, when this particular Legion Cruiser had been decommissioned and put up for auction, its Cloak had been disabled, and the BBZ-CPU removed.

And, of course, Tinya had known where to buy a re-built BBZ-CPU on the cheap, and how to hack the system back online.

It was good to have friends

One minute after clearing the shield, they were beyond the moon.


{to be continued}

HOW IT ALL STARTED: Scene Five: Hyperspace

“I think our only real option is to make straight for Throon,” Chlorophyll Kid suggested. “If we alter our angle of approach, Mardru is only three systems away from Unclaimed Space. I believe we can skirt the border of the U.P., and reach Throon in a couple of days.”

“It’s the long way around for sure, but I think you’re right,” said Fire Lad. “I’m half expecting a U.P. fleet to come after us with weapons blazing.” He picked up his Omnicom. “No tracking signals, unless the ICC has gotten far more sophisticated in the past few years.” He threw the Omnicom entry on Throon onto the main screen.

From the Terran Guide to Colonizable Worlds:
Throon is an insignificant but habitable non-aligned (unclaimed) world located approximately five hundred parsecs from Earth. About 10% larger and 20% less dense than Earth, its gravitational rating is about 88% Earth-normal. It has a near-standard Terran-compatible oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere, and orbits an unnamed yellow dwarf about one-half the mass of Sol. Located only fifteen million miles (25 Gm) from its primary. It has an orbital period (year) of approximately 50 days.
Colonization has never been attempted due to the wild and hazardous nature of the native flora and fauna. It is expected that any conglomerate undertaking colonization of this world would necessarily be obligated to entirely obliterate and replace the native ecosystem. Requirements for U.P. permission would therefore be exhaustive and protracted, as a full environmental cost/benefit study would be unavoidable. Colonization and terra-forming permits would be correspondingly expensive.

“No mention of the Citadel,” Chlorophyll Kid mused. “Could that be what this is all about?”

“The Citadel’s defenses were formidable,” Fire Lad said. “But its offensive capability was non-existent beyond the planet itself, and Night Girl showed the fundamental weakness of the ziggurat: it was undefended from a subterranean attack.”

“First thing let’s do when we take ownership, let’s name that unnamed primary Lydda 2,” Chlorophyll Kid suggested.

“NaviCom is complete,” Stone Boy announced. “Entering into deeper hyperpace. Setting autopilot. We should reach the Lyddan system in two-point-five days.”

He turned to his companions. “I hope the food-packs in this crate are still relatively fresh.”

“They are,” Chlorophyll Kid assured him.

* * *

When Chlorophyll Kid and Stone Boy returned to the bridge, Fire Lad was already intensely monitoring the communications station. “I have disturbing news,” he informed his teammates. “There are half-a-dozen United Planets dreadnaughts in distant orbit around Throon’s primary. All of their orbits are highly elliptical, and well out of the orbital plane of Throon itself. There is some sort of sub-etheric chatter going on between them, but it’s such at such a low amplification that I haven’t been able to pick anything up. As well, the ICC has broken our codes, and now has a lock on our Omnicoms.”

“As far as I can see, there’s nothing the U.P. can do to us, legally, right?” Chlorophyll Kid observed. “We’re outside U.P. space. Their authority is void here.”

“That’s just the thing,” Fire Lad replied. “The ICC agents and the U.P. Science Police are just private citizens here, outside United Planets jurisdiction. There is no law here. Anything is possible.”

“I think I need to re-organize my seed pouches. Let’s hope we can make it to the ground.”

“I hope so, too,” Fire Lad agreed. “But it’s looking pretty unlikely. I’m now receiving decipherable communications from the U.P. ships. They are distress calls. Apparently, any ship approaching closer than fifty Gm to Throon loses all but auxiliary power… they are barely able to sustain life support. There is also some sort of antigravitaional force pushing them slowly away from the planet… those who cross the 50 Gm threshold have been ordered back to Weber’s World.”

“But how is that possible?” Chlorophyll Kid asked. “The command center for the Citadel was destroyed, and the energy-negating weapon permanently shut down.”

“Permanently?” Fire Lad asked. “How many years has it been since we were here last? Those old men may have been able to repair the damage in that time. We know there were a number of servo-bots inside the Citadel—they might have done the grunt work.”

“I will drop out of hyperspace just within the threshold,” Stone Boy announced. “I believe I can place us in an orbit which will carry us over 50Gm from the planet if our engines fail. We have about two hours to planetfall.”

The two hours passed nerve-wrackingly slowly. Chlorophyll Kid fell into his old pattern of nervous eating. “{I’ill have to go back on a Zwenite weight-loss regimen after this}”, he thought to himself.
“Fifteen minutes to planetfall,” Stone Boy announced. “I suggest we put on spacesuits. It may get bumpy on hyperspace re-entry. Strap in.”

The Substitutes braced for planetfall. The multi-colored viewscreen resolved to a black-and-white starscape, one large sun glowing straight ahead. It was uncannily smooth.

“All system functioning at 100%,” Stone Boy announced. “I am preparing for close orbit of Throon.”

“I am receiving a number of warnings and distress calls, beamed directly at us,” Fire Lad noted. “There seems to be no coherent organization to them. I believe the dreadnaughts are operating independently of one another.”

“Stable low orbit achieved,” Stone Boy declared. “I have located the Citadel. I can place us within… one hundred yards on the surface.”

The Legion cruiser landed safely, softly, and without incident.



{to be continued}

HOW IT ALL STARTED: Scene Six: Throon

The Legion of Substitute Heroes walked into the kilometer-high ziggurat Citadel of Throon like they owned the place.

Which, legally, they did.

“Do you know the phrase, ‘a maze of twisty littile passages, all different’?” Stone Boy asked.

“Lydda navigated through this maze with her infra-red vision,” Fire Lad noted. “I can't see through walls, though. Either of you guys have infra-red vision?”

“I have a location app on my Omnicom which can generally give me the layout of a building,” Chlorophyll Kid noted, “But I can’t get enough resolution in this place to tell where we are.”

“It’s like having Metropolis all to yourself, but most of the power is shut down, you don’t have a map, and there are no cabs running,” said Stone Boy. “I have nightmares like this all the time.”

Chlorophyll Kid and Fire Lad exchanged glances. They had never considered Stone Boy’s half-year-long dreams.

“And how do you usually resolve this problem in your dreams?” Chlorophyll Kid asked.

“Usually, I wake up,” Stone Boy replied. “Or, some helpful character magically appears.”

“Greetings, Members of the Mighty Legion!” A miniature robot had just turning the corner and was striding toward them. It was an exact replica of the giant robot Colossal Boy had battled years before—but it was only one meter tall. “Consider this your Home away from Home!” Its voice was high-pitched and mechanical.

“Are we the only humans—organic creatures—within the Citadel?” Chlorophyll Kid asked.

“Sadly, our Former Masters Reached the End of their Life Span. We welcome our New Masters to the Citadel of Throon. We are Pleased to be of Service.”

“Who is in charge here?” Chlorophyll Kid asked.

“Why, You Are,” the little robot replied.

“I mean, who is the head of the robots?” Chlorophyll Kid tried again.

“Why, You Are,” the little robot replied.

“What are we—what are we expected to do?” Chlorophyll Kid asked.

“Anything You Like,” the little robot answered. “We have Observed that Eating, Sleeping, Studying History, and Repairing Faulty Mechanisms were Favorite Functions of our Former Masters. Certain Activities we were not Allowed to Observe.”

“Can you direct us to some central command center?” Stone Boy requested. “We would especially be interested in maps of the Citadel, descriptions of working mechanisms, and communications networks.”

“I Know the Very Place,” the little robot replied.

“Does this place come with a manual?” Fire Lad wondered aloud.

* * *

There were two more robots in the Command Center. Each of these stood a good two meters tall, but in all other respects were replicas of the miniature robot. The Substitutes examined the controls and monitors throughout the massive room, but were loathe to touch anything.

On one screen, Fire Lad noted a display which he recognized as a schematic of the depowered U.P. vessels within the Lyddan system. “We really ought to figure out a way to free those ships,” he suggested. “It might get the U.P. on our good side again.”

“Not sure I agree,” Chlorophyll Kid replied. “But where would we start?” They looked helplessly at the thousands of panels, switches, and buttons that filled the meters of control boards.

Stone Boy approached on of the robots. “Seriously,” he inquired, “Does this place come with a manual?”

“Unknown, Member of the Mighty Legion,” the robot replied.

“Call me Dag,” Stone Boy said. There was a slight flickering in every diode in every panel in the room. “Did your former masters leave any last instructions for us? Holo-tapes? Anything?”

“We were Instructed to Activate the Time Mirror at Your Request,” the robot answered.

“And what is the function of the Time Mirror?” Stone Boy wondered.

“Unknown, Dag,” the robot replied.

“I am requesting you…” he looked over to his companions. They shrugged their shoulders. “To activate the Time Mirror.”

“As You have Requested, Dag,” the second robot answered.

On the wall, just in the space between the to robots, a bright oval began to glow with rainbow light. Just as it reached its brightest, two figures materialized from the air. Two men, apparently middle-aged, appeared out of the air.

“I am Ezer,” said the one in the green jumpsuit.

“I am Eben,” said the one in the orange jumpsuit.

The Substitutes seemed nonplussed.

“Don’t you recognize us?” asked the one called Eben. “We are the Last Sons of Throon.”


{to be continued}

The plot thickens! Eben and Ezer, hehe. I wonder what these two will tell us?

Kudos for using chubby Ral with an eating disorder and skinnier Staq. love the little bits you sprinkle in like Ral needing to lose weight again, and Dag having six-month long dreams.

I wonder what the UP knows about the tech on Throon. or what they don't know, apparently nobody has been able to reach the surface.

Nice work Klar, really interested to see what happens next!

HOW IT ALL STARTED: Scene Seven: Throon

“So, we meet again!” said Ezer. “Come, come, we have much to do!”

“Although, you must realize, we are meeting you for the first time,” said Eben.

“And, of course, we had no recollection of this meeting when you first met our future selves,” said Ezer.

“I’m sorry,” Chlorophyll Kid answered. “I don’t believe we ever met before, at all.”

Ezer and Eben looked puzzled. “But surely… you are the legal inheritors of the Citadel of Throon?” inquired Eben.

“And surely, our older selves must have been mightily impressed with you, in order to deed you this place,” Ezer said.

“Or have you summoned us here for some other reason?” asked Eben.

“We never met your older selves face-to-face,” Chlorophyll Kid replied. “Our only contact with them was through their attorneys, after they had passed away. One of our other colleagues met them—you—briefly several years ago.”

“Ah, and where is he?” asked Ezer.

“She is not here. She was not one of those who were ultimately named as heirs,” Chlorophyll Kid replied.

“I saw you once, from a great distance,” said Stone Boy. “I was in still the clutches of your robot, so I didn’t get a very good look.”

“The Giant Cyborg?” said Eben. “Amazing! How did it function in an actual field test?”

“Now, Eben,” Ezer chided. “We have other things to do now than forensics on our creations.”

“And what is it you have to do? Have you come to take back the Citadel?” Fire Lad asked.

Ezer and Eben laughed heartily at this.

“No, no, that would be quite impossible,” said Ezer. “Are you aware of how the Time Mirror works?”

“Not really,” said Chlorophyll Kid. “The robots…”

“The robots are mere servants, incapable of understanding the specifics of the workings of the Citadel,” Eben answered. “And it is best to keep it that way.”

“The Time Mirror,” Ezer explained, “Is capable of viewing the past, or of temporarily duplicating, in the present, past objects it has previously viewed. But it cannot actually transfer the originals from the past—nor can it peer into the future. It is devilishly tricky to work with, as it can only see what is directly in front of it. We two are merely duplicates of the Eben and Ezer of the past, and will vanish is a mere six hours.”

“I am experiencing bitter existential angst,” Eben sighed. “In a few short hours I will be cease to exist. And I am already dead!”

“We are clearly dead, aren’t we?” Ezer asked. “That is, our future selves.”

“Yes, I believe so,” Chlorophyll Kid answered. “For about six or seven months, I would guess. That was never made quite clear to us. There were some… issues.”

“I suppose we ought to introduce ourselves,” Fire Lad interjected. “I am Staq Mavlin of Schwar, this is Ral Benem of Mardru, and Daw Wentim of Zwen.”

“The United Planets, then, not the Dominion or the Khunds,” said Eben. “Forgive us, but neither of us was ever very good with names. You will probably have to remind us again. Treat us as the old men you once knew us as… or, I suppose, didn’t know us as.”

“You can call us Fire Lad, Chlorophyll Kid, and Stone Boy if you like. We sort of have icons on our shirts that might remind you.”

“Ha-ha! Heroes, then!” Ezer exclaimed. “That explains a great deal!”

“And are there just the three of you?” Eben asked.

“Yes, for now,” Chlorophyll Kid answered.

“Well, it was only the two of us all those years,” said Eben. “But now to work. What year if this?” He looked up at a particular display. “About seven hundred fifty cycles… Eben, we’ve lived—will live-- over a hundred more years, Earth-time!”

“Wait… Earth-years?” Fire Lad said. “Why not Throonan time? Aren’t you the last of the Throonans?”

“The last of the original Throonans died, oh, ten—eleven centuries ago,” said Eben. “We are originally from Earth. Ezer was studying to be a historian, I was an archaeology major. We tired of Earth, dropped out of college, invested our tuition money in a spaceship. We were intending to explore the Galaxy. On our travels, we heard rumors of Throon, home of a highly advanced but long-dead civilization. It turned out the rumors were true, and Ezer and I have spent the last thirty years—over one hundred and thirty by your time—rebuilding and repairing the Citadel, studying its history, enjoying one another’s company, and making Throon our home.”

“The original Throonans evolved from ancient Hallucigenine creatures,” said Ezer. “You can still see them in murals scattered throughout the station. Fourteen-limbed creatures with spines running down their backs and a half-dozen feeding tentacles at the mouth. You will recognize them when you see them.”

“We re-designed most of the robots to appear more human,” said Eben. “We just felt more comfortable that way.”

“After all the work we put into this place, it seemed a shame to see it become a ruin again after we were gone,” said Ezer. “We planned to find some worthy successors, and deed the place to them after we had passed away.”

“You begin to think about such things,” said Eben, “Once you have reached middle age.”

“Naturally, we wanted to make sure that those who succeeded us would be comfortable here, and appreciate some of the subtleties of our work,” said Ezer.

“And, of course, we were curious to see what the Citadel finally looked like after all our efforts,” said Eben. “We had no way of knowing our future selves would have had no contact at all with the people they willed the place to.”

“Well, you know what they say about old people,” said Ezer. The two men laughed.

“I am afraid that Ezer and I are a couple of iconoclasts,” said Eben. “Misanthropes, even. We enjoy one another’s company, certainly, but anyone else…”

“But it is the five of us now, for the next five-and-a-half hours!” said Ezer. “And, as we need to start from the very beginning, I suggest we begin your education in the mysteries of the Citadel of Throon immediately!”

{to be continued}

HOW IT ALL STARTED: Scene Eight: Throon: Maxadites

“The Citadel runs on pure solar power,” Ezer explained. “Panels on the sides of the ziggurat collect, process, and store sunlight with almost 100% efficiency. Huge underground fusion batteries store the energy until it is needed. In theory, the Citadel was designed to support a population of at least ten million Throonans merely with the energy collected by the solar panels. However, there are defensive capabilities which consume far more power; there needs to be a way to draw even more power, and to recharge the batteries quickly, if necessary.”

“We have been working on a device we call the Energiekaninchen,” Eben added. “I would hope that by this time, we have worked out the bugs in it.”

Ezer checked one of the monitors. “The fusion batteries are severely drained—only at 30% capacity! I don’t see how that is possible. They had enough of a charge to last millennia!”

Eben checked a large array in the center of the control room. “Ah, this explains it. The Verunmoeglichener has been operating continuously for nearly five full cycles.”

“Is that the device,” Fire Lad asked, “That paralyzes ships in space?”

“Yes, it generates a U-Field which enhances the… stickiness… of gluons. It makes nuclear, sub-atomic, and quark-splitting reactions… highly unlikely. Virtually impossible.” Eben answered. “Although we never used it in our time—it consumes far too much power.”

“There are several United Planets vessels trapped in orbit around Throon by that field now; we would like to release them, if possible.”

“Well, you can’t just shut the Verunmoeglichener off,” Ezer explained. “It actually alters the local laws of physics. It must be powered down slowly, in stages. Turning it off without a proper cooling-down period could be disastrous.”

“And yet, that is precisely what has happened at one point,” said Eben, examining the device. “These control panels sustained heavy damage at some point in the past, but have since been nicely repaired.”

The Substitutes flushed. “How long would it take to shut down the field safely, and release the ships?” asked Fire Lad.

“Oh, a full day at least,” replied Ezer. “Of course, we could use the Reality Cannon to target and release one ship at a time. But I think the most important thing now is to get the Energiekaninchen working so we can re-charge the fusion batteries.”

“What if Eben helps me work the Reality Cannon, and Ezer, Chlorophyll Kid, and Stone Boy work on getting the Energy Cannon up and running?” Fire Lad suggested. The other four nodded in agreement.

“So,” Chlorophyll Kid asked Ezer, as the worked on the Energiekaninchen, “What is it they say about old people?”

“My Great-Grandmother,” Ezer replied. “Was a real harridan, a first-class complainer. An obnoxious, overbearing, and domineering old harpy. My Great-Grandfather would pretend to be deaf to her ceaseless nit-picking, nagging, and complaining, foe nothing was ever satisfactory to her: not Great-Grandfather, not their children or grand-children, not their neighbors, not even the time of day that the sun rose and set. My Great-Grandfather just bore it patiently, but we hated when we were dragged to their home for a visit. Not just us children, but the parents and grand-parents as well. One day, my Great-Uncle Leon said to Great-Grandfather, “It’s a shame that old age has made her so cantankerous.” My father replied, “Don’t blame old age…”

“…she’s always been like this!” said Eben. “Old age has only made her worse!”

The two men guffawed as if it had been the funniest thing they had ever heard.

Fire Lad had nearly finished calibrating the Reality Cannon when Ezer announced, “The Energiekaninchen is online. It will take about one minute to reach the sun, then one minute after that, we will have direct energy linkage.

Fire Lad opened a channel on his Omnicom. “United Planets vessels, we will be releasing your ships one at a time. Please set course for your UP base, or Weber’s World immediately.” He got the first ship in his sights.

“Planet Throon,” a voice came back over the Omnicom, “We are picking up signatures of unidentified vessels incoming from Hyperspace. Do you wish us to engage?”

“I see them,” Stone Boy said. He and Ezer were at another monitor. “They are leaving Hyperspace… I have an image.” He turned towards his companions. “Six Dark Circle vessels.”

“They are almost within range,” Ezer noted. “They have been immobilized by the Verunmoeglichener. They are firing some sort of torpedos… are those organic beings? These reading… my, they are powerful. And fast-moving! They will be planetside momentarily.”

Stone Boy checked the sensor array Ezer had been observing. “Those are Maxadites,” he said.

Chlorophyll Kid and Fire Lad groaned.

Stone Boy turned to Ezer and Eben. “Maxadites are technically unliving, imperfect pseudo-clones of Daxamites. They are extremely powerful, but molecularly unstable. Apparently the Dark Circle has found a way to exert some psychic control over them.”

Ezer was busy with another sensor array. “I have tapped into the Dark Circle’s coded communications grid. They intend to… reduce the Citadel to rubble.”

“You can monitor secure communication from the Dark Circle?” asked Fire Lad, incredulous.

“Naturally. And the United Planets, the Khundish Empire, and the Dominion,” Ezer replied. “Ha! According to our sensors, these Maxadites are powered by yellow solar radiation! How fortuitous! They are in for quite a surprise!”

“What do you mean?” Chlorophyll Kid asked.

“The return energy beam from the Energiekaninchen should be hitting… now!” said Ezer. And the sun turned red.

Two dozen Maxadites dropped from the sky. Six were near enough to the ground that they did not immediately explode in clouds of pale-grey dust.

“We need to take care of them somehow while they are stunned,” said Chlorophyll Kid. “They no doubt have some serum which will neutralize the effects of the red solar radiation. I imagine taking it would only further increase their molecular instability, but I imagine they will be taking it as soon as they recover. The Citadel once had some sort of chemical gas that neutralized a similar serum with a Daxamite when we were last here. Do either of you know what it might have been?”

Ezer and Eben thought for moment. “Probably the Restorative Gas,” Ezer replied. “It has the general effect of neutralizing all substances not native to a life-forms natural physiology. I’m not sure where we would have put it…” The two men began rapidly searching their databases.

“I found it,” said Eben. “There are several mortars loaded with canisters of the stuff. It is as though our future selves were expecting an attack just such as this.”

“For good measure,” said Chlorophyll Kid, “toss a lead pellet as well at each one of the surviving Maxadites.”

Fire Lad had connected his Omnicom to the Citadel’s communications grid. “Attention Dark Circle,” he ordered. “This is the Citadel of Planet Throon. You are currently in highly eccentric orbits around our primary. When your orbital path carries you beyond the 50Gm limit, you will immediately vacate this system, or we will be forced to take punitive measures.”

Changing frequencies, he contacted the United Planets vessels. “Thank you for your offer of assistance, but the situation is under control,” he broadcast. “We will be releasing your ships one at a time. Please set course for your UP base, or Weber’s World, immediately upon release.” He set the first ship in his sights again.

“Planet Throon,” a voice came back over the Omnicom, “We are picking up additional signatures of unidentified vessels incoming from Hyperspace.?”

Stone Boy was at the sensor array previously manned by Ezer. “They are dropping out of hyperspace… it’s the Dominators.”

TO BE CONTINUED

HOW IT ALL STARTED: Scene Nine: Throon: The Dominion

Chlorophyll Kid was counting. “Thirty-six ships, each with a standard complement of one hundred eleven... we are facing an army of about four thousand.”

“The dampening field is apparently not affecting the Dominator’s bio-technology,” Stone Boy observed, “And the ships are definitely in a formation in preparation for landing.”

“I know what would affect those ships,” said Chlorophyll Kid. “I could certainly take down one, if I were on board. But at this distance… there are too many, and too far away.”

Eben had accessed yet another control panel. “The Giant Cyborg is controlled through a psionic link, and is capable of replicating and magnifying the natural abilities of its user… oh, several thousand times.” A chamber opened in one of the walls. “Care to give it a try?”

Chlorophyll Kid found himself standing outside the Citadel, gazing at the sky. Beyond the atmosphere, he could see the botanical ships of the Dominion adjusting their orbits. He focused his attention on one, raised his hands…

Tendrils flowed from the ship. Leaves broadened, flowers bloomed in space. The ship was no doubt using up its bio-fuel at an alarming rate. Soon the environmental control and life-support systems would themselves be in danger.

He turned his attention to another ship. The energy of the GC seemed inexhaustible. Soon, the second ship was also incapacitated. More ships were rising up over the horizon. Stone boy had said thirty-six ships: he had eliminated two.

Twenty-nine ships. He could see no more. He turned his gaze to the surface: seven ships stood in perfect, upright formation. They looked like unpeeled corn cobs. Attacking them now would be pointless: they had already begun to spill their humanoid cargo.

“I missed seven,” Chlorophyll Kid. He emerged from the GC chamber. Stone Boy, Fire Lad, Ezer and Eben were operating virtual reality controls.

“This is amazing,” said Stone Boy. “Weapons broadcasting heat, cold, electromagnetic radiation of nearly any frequency, gravitational inducers and retardants… a multiple targeting array, vulnerability sensors to optimize attacks.”

“I am picking up something on the viewscreen,” Fire Lad warned.

Chlorophyll Kid checked the viewer out over his shoulder. “It’s some sort of mechanical mole,” he concluded.

Fire Lad got up from his chair. “My turn in the Giant Cyborg,” he said.

Chlorophyll Kid pulled Ezer away from his virtual control. “The Citadel is vulnerable to attack from beneath,” he said. “How many smaller robots are there in this facility? Are they programmed for defense?”

“Everything in the Citadel is programmed for defense,” said Ezer. “The original Throonans were quite xenophobic.”

“Just because you’re paranoid, doesn’t mean the Universe isn’t out to get you,” Fire Lad remarked, as he buckled into the GC chamber.

Ezer checked another viewing display. “Our future selves have provided us with about fifty thousand robots,” he declared, “although about 90% of those are the small, one-meter-tall variety.”

“Send about half to the lowest levels,” Chlorophyll Kid ordered. “Have the rest patrol the corridors. Put them on the highest available alert status, if there is such a thing.”

“I understand your strategy,” said Ezer. “But from the actions of your friends, that may be superfluous.”

* * *

Commander Setebos of the Dominion viewed his forces in disarray with dismay. The giant, fire-breathing robot had attacked the remaining vessels, tearing or burning them into uselessness. The Brutes—hulking, over-muscled genetic freaks, with forehead-dots the size of pinpoints—were scattering in terror. The drilling machines were twisted wreckage. But the enemy was in for a surprise. The Citadel was a formidable weapon—but at its heart were weak, foolish organics. Terrans. Destroy the three Terrans, and the Citadel would be theirs. And he had a weapon: even ten Dominion engineers were assembling the ten separate sections into a devastating weapon: the Disintegrator. Even the force-field reinforced walls of the Citadel could not stand against it. Once open, only a few of his forces were needed to invade the fortress, overpower the Terrans, and gain control of the planet.

“Engineers, are we ready?”

“Yes, Commander”

“Then, in the name of the One True God, fire!”

A leg of the giant robot came crashing down, scattering the engineers, and shielding the Citadel from the first disintegration blast. A substantial fraction of the robot’s left leg vanished, leaving a giant foot jammed into the ground, as the remainder of the giant metal form fell away to one side.

The Citadel still stood, unharmed.

Cursing the incompetence of engineers, Commander Setebos ordered, "Fire again!"

First Engineer Sycorax replied, "Commander, we must re-calibrate after every firing. Otherwise..."

Cursing even more loudly, Commader Setebos shoved the Engineer aside. Taking the controls himself, he targeted the nearest wall of Citadel, and engaged the Disintegrator again.

The resulting blast knocked First Engineer Sycorax to the ground. She felt radiation burning her skin, as Commander Setebos dissolved in a shower of atoms. Fortunately, her eyes were shielded, and she was several meters from the resulting crater. Half her squad was not so lucky. “God’s Teeth,” she cursed. “Idiot Commander. What does he think the Engineers’ Squads are for?”

* * *

“Some kind of energy explosion,” Stone Boy reported. “The remaining Maxadites have also detonated, in some sort of cascading effect. I think we have several dead out there, and a number of injuries. I realize they are Dominion, but still…”

“The Citadel was meant to repel, incapacitate, and discourage,” Eben said. “Never to kill.”

Fire Lad came limping out of the GC chamber. “I believe it was their own incompetence which caused this disaster,” he said. “Not to seem callous. Still, I wish we could do something.”

“There are prison facilities in the Citadel, although we could house no more than a few hundred,” said Ezer. ‘The Servos are not programmed with Dominator physiology, though.”

“We can probably hack the medical computers of the paralyzed Dominion ships in orbit,” Fire Lad suggested. “But I don’t see any way to collect the injured. There are still nearly eight hundred soldiers out there, and the Dominators have never really been renowned for honoring cease-fires.”

Ezer glanced at Eben. “I wonder if you ever manufactured any of those Roly-Polys?” he said.

Another monitor dropped out of a cabinet near the floor. “Oh, yes,” said Eben. “About ten thousand!”

“What are they?” Chlorophyll Kid asked.

On the main screen, a kind of spherical, metallic cage appeared. “This will open to accept cargo, then close up, and deliver it to a pre-programmed location. I’m afraid the journey would be rather uncomfortable: the occupant would be spun ‘round and ‘round the whole trip.”

“I suggest we use fifty or so Roly-Polys to gather up the Dominators with minor injuries, and deposit them in the prison cells. The more severely injured can be transported using the robots. How far inside the Citadel will we have to take them? We will probably want to observe them closely, to see that we have no escapees.”

“The cells are on 3D elevator tracks, and can be brought right up to the entrances of the Citadel,” Eben explained. “Are we sure we want to be so humanitarian to these invaders?”

“I thought you said the Citadel was not designed to kill?” Chlorophyll Kid said.

Ezer smiled. “After all, our future selves apparently did a good job selecting our successors,” he said.

After the evacuation process had begun, Fire Lad requested some aid for himself. “That beam the Dominators used on the GC had some sort of feedback effect on my leg,” he said. “You said you had some medical software here? Is there anything you could do for me?”


“It’s just a little nervous shock,” said Eben. “It should wear off after a few hours. Tomorrow, certainly, you will be as good as new.” He opened a small cabinet, took out a small bottle, and removed a couple of tablets. “This is a very, very old remedy,” he said. “Used by the inhabitants of North America thousands of years ago. It should dull the pain. There’s nothing like it today. Use it sparingly—there are some powerful side-effects as well.”

Fire Lad took the offered pills. Within a quarter of an hour, there was substantially less pain. “What was that stuff?” he asked.

“A powerful general analgesic and anti-inflammatory,” said Eben. “You could look it up in a Medical History book. It’s called acetylsalicylic acid.

The Giant Cyborg had re-grown scaffolding on it calf, and re-attached its foot. It seemed to function nearly as well without an operator as with one. It had returned to its cabinet within the outer walls of the Citadel for further, and more complete, repairs.

“First U.P. ships, then the Dark Circle, then the Dominators,” said Stone Boy. “All appearing at approximately the same time we arrived. It can’t be a coincidence.”

“All Wills are public record, once probate is complete,” Chlorophyll Kid noted. “Someone—apparently, several someones—has been waiting for Ezer and Eben to die. I suppose they believe there is something on Throon worth fighting for.”

“We were always an unaffiliated world,” said Ezer. “And we did our best to make ourselves appear mysterious, frightening, and powerful, over the decades. Discouraged trade, tourism, social contact, and so forth. I suppose we must have become even more reclusive and mysterious as the years went by. Certainly, even in our day, there were crazy rumors about Throon.”

“Frankly, we started most of them,” Eben amended. “And I imagine that, if we ever displayed the defensive power of the Citadel, then it itself would be seen as desirable by those coveting its power.” He laughed. “All we ever really wanted was to be left alone.”

“The Citadel’s defenses only seem powerful,” Ezer declared. “Every piece of technology is purely defensive in nature, and all of it tied to the specific location of the tower. In fact, only the Verunmoeglichener has the capability of functioning at a distance of more than a few kilometers.

“I would like to open up communications with the United Planets, the Dominion, and the Dark Circle again,” said Fire Lad, “and give them a chance to leave us in peace. I would rather trust the U.P. to send an unarmed, unmanned ship to collect our Dominion prisoners, though. I assume we can feed and house them indefinitely?”

“Oh, certainly,” Ezer replied. “We can record their physiological profiles, and can provide them with meals tailored to their appropriate physiology. However, from personal experience, it will take a while to create meals in accordance with their tastes.”

Fire Lad began broadcasting the appropriate messages to the three invading forces. In the process, he intercepted a transmission from the Dominion ships to the U.P. vessels still in orbit.

“The mercenaries of the Dominion plead for asylum with the United Planets. Our failure on Throon has condemned us to torture and death should we return to the Dominion Space. We will serve the citizens of the United Planets as abject slaves and bondsmen, if you will only grant us our lives.””

He received a later response from the United Planets:

“We request that an unarmed Space Ark be allowed to recover the Dominion mercenaries. It will be necessary for this vessel to approach the inoperative Dominion ships, as well as to make planetfall. Is this agreeable.”

Fire Lad was preparing his response to the U.P., when a new, urgent message was broadcast by the United Planets ships:

“Planet Throon, we are picking up additional signatures of unidentified vessels dropping out of Warp Space. ”

TO BE CONTINUED

HOW IT ALL STARTED: Scene Ten: Throon: The Khunds

“What sort of advanced civilization uses an antique like Warp Drive?” Chlorophyll Kid said to himself. “One-hundred-one ships, each with a standard complement of four hundred and forty... the main ship with a complement of three times that… forty-five thousand, three hundred and twenty cyborg Khundish warriors. And if even one of them penetrates the Citadel up as far as the Control Room, we’re doomed.”

“Ezer, Eben,” Chlorophyll Kid ordered, “Double—no, triple the robot guard on the lower levels.

“I can do that,” Stone Boy volunteered. “We do have about a hundred robot guards tending to the Dominator prisoners.”

“They are still needed,” Chlorophyll Kid mused, “But send all the larger guards to the lowest levels, and replace them with the smaller robots,” He addressed the robot guards standing on either side of the Time Mirror. “Do you see that creature?” He gestured towards one of the screens. “That is a Khund. If one or any of them enter the control room, restrain them immediately.”

“Yes, Master,” the two robots replied in unison.

“And call me Chlorophyll Kid,” he added. “Can you operate the Time Mirror?”

“It is our Primary Function,” the robot on the left replied. “Chlorophyll Kid.”

“Dag! Staq! I need you for three minutes,” Chlorophyll Kid called. "When you're available."

It took a good ten minutes for Fire Lad and Stone Boy to finish their current tasks. Chlorophyll Kid waited patiently. “No invasion yet?” he asked.

“They are still in highly eccentric orbits, atomic systems paralyzed,” Fire Lad answered. “And so far, no effort to leave their ships.”

“But they will eventually, somehow, make it to the surface, or they wouldn’t be here,” Chlorophyll Kid predicted. “We need reinforcements, and there is only one place I can think of to get them.” He addressed the left-hand robot. “Search back in time thirty seconds with the Time Mirror, and bring the Legionnaires standing in front of the mirror then to us.”

“Bricklebit,” he said.

Three duplicate Substitutes stood facing the three originals. “What was the last word I said before the Time Mirror activated?” Chlorophyll Kid asked the other five Subs..

The original Fire Lad and Stone Boy answered “Bricklebit.” The other three were shrugged.

“And now three of us know just how long they have to exist,” said Chlorophyll Kid. “We should all live so long.”

“ ‘Ours not to reason why, ours but to do and die,’ “ said the duplicate Chlorophyll Kid. “This is getting unnecessarily morbid. One of you Dags, send out a platoon of the smaller robots to gather up brush, and pile it around the base of the Citadel. Preferably, anything with thorns. I’m going downstairs to re-create Sleeping Beauty’s Castle.”

“You go,” said the duplicate Stone Boy to his original. “I want to try out that Giant Cyborg suit.”

“The Khundish vessels have released some sort of missles, which have failed to achieve launch trajectories. They are atomic powered, with warheads…” Fire Lad paused. “Those idiots have launched two dozen ancient nuclear warheads from each ship. Their ships now lie in an atomic minefield.”

“If their orbit carries them beyond the U-Field,” Eben noted, “They will immediately detonate. They really can’t harm us here on the surface, but it would be suicide for the Khunds to stay aboard those ships.”

“Another device is powering up,” said Fire Lad. “Apparently, its power source is some sort of magnetic monopole… it’s a transporter.”

“A magnetic transporter?” Eben said. “Fascinating. We could never have anticipated such devices when we were building these defenses.”

“Oh, no, yes, we did,” Ezer declared. “Here is a Magnetic Mirror which will surround the whole planet, just outside the atmosphere. It will take just take a few minutes to bring it online…”

“Too late,” said Fire Lad. “One thousand Khundish troops have teleported to the surface. Magnetic transporters powering up… I believe we have about one minute before another contingent appears.”

A thousand Khundish blasters were aimed at the Citadel, now thickly covered with giant, twisted, thorny vines. A thousand energy-beams blasted the Citadel. The vegetation burst into roaring flames.

A victory cheer went up from the Khundish forces.

The Giant Cyborg burst out of the flames.

* * *

One of the Fire Lads had established contact with the lead ship. “Turn back,” he exhorted. “This is a suicide mission. Your commanders are traitors, who have sent you to your deaths. Surely you have seen what has happened to the United Planets, the Dark Circle, and the Dominion.”

There was no Khundish face, only a Khundish voice. “You are weak, all weaklings! The Khunds have no commanders, we are all free! Free to take what is rightfully ours!” [Ragged cheering in the background.]

The other Fire Lad announced, “Another brigade of Khundish troops have teleported to the surface. We have two thousand troops on the ground.”

The two Chlorophyll Kids and a Stone Boy were busy targeting the ground troops with the Citadel multi-blasters.

One of the Chlorophyll Kids spoke up. “Don’t you have some sort of weapon sends out a burst of rainbow energy at ground level, capable of paralyzing a number of opponents simultaneously?”

“You mean the Blitzhund?” said Eben. “But we would only use that in the direst circumstances.”

“Three thousand troops on the ground,” reported a Fire Lad.

“Three thousand, three hundred sixty, to be precise,” reported the other Fire Lad. He exchanged glances with his duplicate.

“Show-off,” the first Fire Lad accused.

“You should know,” responded the second Fire Lad, good-naturedly.

“I think these count as the direst circumstances,” a Chlorophyll Kid replied.

* * *

Stone Boy examined the displays which had appeared on the panel in front of him. He had been tossing Khunds two-handed through the air; many had not gotten up again, all had been substantially slowed down. The GC had gotten into the rhythm of the thing, and Stone Boy was just going along for the ride.

The display was interesting. There was a red icon that looked like flame. There was a green icon that looked like a leaf. He focused on the red icon. It lit up. The GC breathed fire.

“{It remembers},” thought Stone Boy. “{It duplicated the powers of Fire Lad and Chlorophyll Kid, and it remembers.}”

The protective vegetation had been burned off the Citadel, leaving it unscathed. Stone Boy forced the GC to wave a hand at the ziggurat, simultaneously concentrating on the green icon. The protective vegetation climbed up the ziggurat again.

“Four thousand troops on the ground,” he heard, as though from a great distance. “Magnetic Mirror engaged,” he heard again.

* * *
The U.P. Dreadnaughts had apparently been here for some time. One was finally drifting out of the U-field. Power returned, the engines came to life. Carefully navigating outside the field, it positioned itself near the Khundish vessels. Weapons targeted all power sources. First one ship went completely dark. Then another. Then another.

A hundred sitting ducks.

* * *
“A United Planets Dreadnought has launched attacks on the Khund ships,” a Fire Lad reported. “Khundish ships have launched chemical-powered rockets, apparently manned. They are closing at Mach 100. They should make landing on Throon in… approximately eight and one-half days.”

“Not an urgent threat, then,” one of the Chlorophyll Kids responded. “They must be desperate.”

Thousands of unconscious Khund warriors littered the landscape. The Blitzhund had done its job. The Citadel's field reinforced, duranium-alloy walls remained unbreached.

“I am showing reduced life signs, on the ground, but I believe we have no fatalities,” reported the other Fire Lad. “These Khunds are tough. I suggest we send out the Roly-Polys while Stone Boy cleans up in the GC.”

“This may be a bad time to mention it,” said Ezer, “But we need to shut down theEnergiekaninchen. We are absorbing solar energy faster than we are expending it, even maintaining both the U-Field and the Magnetic Mirror. We cannot overcharge the batteries. Stone Boy and Chlorophyll Kid, could I have your assistance? That still leaves four on the Multi-Blasters.”

“I show a massive magnetic burst from the lead ship,” the another Fire lad announced. “It is breaching the Magnetic Mirror… feedback has damaged the magnetic transporter on the lead ship… but we have one more Khund on the ground. Analyzing..."

TO BE CONTINUED

* * *

* * *

HOW IT ALL STARTED: Scene Eleven: Throon: Oniok

Oniak the Khund looked about at his fallen comrades. Their unconscious forms were being rolled away in robotic wire cages. He sent a blast from his weapon at one of the wire spheres; it was immediately disintegrated. He targeted another. “{A waste of time}”, he said to himelf. It was clear what the defender of the Citadel was. He faced the Giant Cyborg. The plan was obvious. Destroy the robot. Kill the humans. Take over the Citadel. Free the landing force.

* * *

Stone Boy looked down through the giant's eyes at the Khund who had just appeared. Twice as tall as any of his fellows, he was still dwarfed by the GC.

Then the Khund began to grow.

Stone Boy focused on the glowing green icon. Seeds sprouted beneath the giant Khund’s feet, vines began to entwine around his legs. The plants stopped growing just above the knee. The green icon was blinking, fading. “{It’s forgetting},” Stone Boy thought to himself. The Khund was breaking free of the vegetation. The GC landed a solid punch, the Khund was only staggered. Another, the Khund went down.

The Khund smiled. “Magnetic teleportation, magnetic power,” he said. “Do you know the old Khundish saying? ‘If your enemy relies on mechanicals, destroy the mechanicals!” A wave of magnetic force lifted the GC into the air. Stone Boy could sense the tidal forces tearing at the robot. The right arm was beginning to come loose. Using the meditative techniques he had practiced for decades, he dozed off for a moment.

* * *
Ezer and the two Fire Lads had powered down the Energiekaninchen. The sun once again shone golden. Chlorophyll Kid was at the monitors. “Oh, no,” he exclaimed. “We have a solar-powered Khund!”

* * *

Stone Boy awoke flat on his back. The GC had momentarily turned to non-magnetic stone. However, he had lost an arm. His own arm was numb, tingling. He checked the icon display. Beside the red icon, a bright gray icon now shone. He sprang to his feet.

Stone Boy faced the giant Khund. “That is good advice. ‘If your enemy relys on mechanicals, destroy the mechanicals.’” Fire breath washed over the Khund. Red, then orange, yellow, white. Metal sparked and dripped. The red icon faded, flickered, went out.

The smoking Khund smiled. “These devices are not the source of my power.” He tapped his chest. “This is the source of my power! My armor is merely a souvenir of my many conquests! And now, I have another souvenir!” He reached out. The broken arm of the Giant Cyborg rose into the air, re-forming and re-shaping itself into a gauntlet, couter, and vambrace for the giant Khund’s right arm.

The giant Khund seemed unaffected by the fiery blast. Something else else was wrong. Stone Boy tried a physical attack again, putting all the might of the one-armed GC behind the blow. It was like slamming a fist into a brick wall.

The Khund was smiling broadly now. He raised his armored fist, a great blow struck the GC in the chest; the metal sternum cracked. Two-handed now, the giant Khund ripped the Cyborg’ torso in half.

* * *

The original Stone Boy flung open the GC cabinet. There was his duplicate: silently screaming in pain. Blood trickled from his nose and ears. Bloody tears streamed from his eyes. “Let me help you,” he told his duplicate. He reached for the straps that bound him into the cabinet.

“No,” the duplicate Stone Boy answered hoarsely. “I have him… just where I want him… souvenirs…”

* * *
Energy blasts rained down from the Citadel. The giant Khund ignored them. The Giant Cyborg lay in pieces on the ground. His armor would soon be restored. Greaves, breastplate… the Giant Cyborg was cannibalized to make new armor for Oniok the Khund. He turned his attention back to the Citadel. Raising the head of the Giant Cyborg into the air, he cried, “Come out of your fortress, and surrender! I promise your cowardly deaths will be swift and painless!”

Stone Boy focused on the gray icon. “{Sleep},” he thought. “{[Petrify]}.”

Oniak the Khund felt the torpor creeping over him. Surely the attack could wait for a few minutes; just a short nap. No! What was this new weapon? But with the yellow sun, he was at full strength. He shook off the drowsiness, focusing again on the Citadel. A few moments, and victory would be his. He rose into the air.

A brilliant light shone from the top of the Citadel, pinpointing the Khund. Oniok felt his strength draining away, the lethargy returning.

* * *
“Fusion Batteries now at 100.07%,” said Ezer. “We cannot hold this for long.”

“Keep the Energy Cannon focused on him,” said Fire Lad. “Adjusting frequency… reversing… Now!”

Red solar radiation flooded into the giant Khund. He lost consciousness, dropping out of the sky like a stone. By the time the hit the ground, he was stone.

Stone Boy opened the GC cabinet. His duplicate was solid stone.

“Let him rest,” said the other Stone Boy. “Let me rest…”

“I would like to observe,” said the Chloropyll Kid. “That much of our success in defending the Citadel these past hours has been nothing but pure dumb luck. Turning on the Energy Cannon just as the Maxadites arrived. The Dominion’s incompetence. Dozens of other fortuitous events, if you think about it.”

“Oh, as for that,” said Eben. “That is easily explainable.”

Ezer pointed to a small, grey metal box on the ceiling. “It doesn’t consume much power, but it is very effective. That’s a Mazel Sieve. You used to be able to buy them on the Venturan black market. Generates good luck for you, bad luck for everyone else. Maintenance-free operation guaranteed, 700 years.”

“No one lives forever,” said Eben. “But one-hundred-fifty-five years? Without help, how do you think our future selves pulled that off?”

* * *

It had been only eight hours since the Subs had arrived on Throon. There was still much work to be done. Ezer, Eben, and the duplicate Subs had vanished into the ether, leaving no trace. Stone Boy was taking the first shift sleeping; they all felt it was best if only one of them slept at a time.

The Dominion and the Khundish Empire had refused to surrender to Planet Throon, but were in negotiations with the United Planets regarding a Space Ark, and the repatriation of their citizens. Fire Lad had opened a channel directly to Weber’s World.

“The Dark Circle has filed a protest with UPGov,” Sub-Undersecretary Muldron was saying.

“As they are a terrorist organization, I don’t think UPGov will give them much attention?” Chlorophyll Kid suggested. “Have you heard from the Dominion?”

“The Dominion has been silent in this matter,” the Sub-Undersecretary replied.

“A number of the Dominators have requested asylum here,” Chlorophyll Kid informed him. “We cannot grant asylum, but don’t be surprised if a number of them stay on as our dinner guests. Possibly for some time”

Sub-Undersecretary Muldron seemed frustrated. “The Khunds are demanding the return of the Citizens of the Empire, as well as an inventory of those currently being held illegally as prisoners of war, and an accounting of Khundish warriors who died in battle.”

“We are not holding them as prisoners of war,” Chlorophyll Kid replied. “We are holding them as criminals who trespassed on our land, and vandalized our humble home. We cannot tell you their names, because they refuse to give them. We are, however, in the process of creating a photo album.”
“The only dead Khunds are any of those who fired upon by the U.P. Dreadnaught, who didn’t get out of the way fast enough. I’m not sure if Khunds can survive eight days without food or fresh air; we still have several thousand chemically-propelled ships apparently containing additional vandals, about three days out.”

“The United Planets,” said Sub-Undersecretary Muldron, “would be happy to relieve you of the burden of any or all these prisoners.”

“We would be rather slow to agree to that,” said Chlorophyll Kid, “As it was the United Planets who first trespassed on our space. What we need,” he continued, “Is a diplomatic delegation to Throon.”

“Are you renouncing your U.P. Citizenship?” Sub-Undersecretary Muldron seemed deliberately bewildered.

“No, sir,” Chlorophyll Kid replied. “We merely think of Throon as our vacation home, conveniently outside U.P. Space. And the Dominion, and the Khundish Empire. A time-share, in fact, with my two colleagues. And other shares may become made available to other individuals as well, both within and without the U.P. once we can agree to certain standards, and draw up an appropriate applications procedure. But we have foreign nationals, apparently aggressive—both in orbit and on the surface of this world. We would not want a diplomatic incident in dealing with these individuals. Thus the need for a diplomatic mission.”

“We really cannot spare a diplomatic delegation for what is essentially a small, private matter,” the Sub-Undersecretary insisted. “Let a Space Ark land on Throon, with a complement of the Science Police to sort out the matter.”

Fire Lad had pushed his Omnicom in front of Chlorophyll Kid. Two names were written on it.

“Perhaps the State Department could deputize a couple of ordinary citizens as ambassadors to Throon,” Chlorophyll Kid suggested. “And send a Space Ark with a crew of open-source robots? May I suggest Ulu Vakk of Lupra, and Dori Polamar, née Aandraison of Xolnar as possible candidates for deputy amabassadors.”

“Planet Throon, we are experiencing some technical difficulty with your transmission,” Sub-Undersecretary Muldron insisted. The transmission went blank.

* * *

NOT THE END… JUST THE BEGINNING!

Nice! Quite a nice battle there. I guess all that ech on Throon has got all these entities (Khunds, Dominion, Dark Vircle) salivating.

Looking forward to seeing Color Kid and Rainbow Girl!

HOW IT ALL STARTED: Chapter Twelve: Epilogue


Eventually it all worked out. Especially after 2982, when Dominion moles were exposed and removed from the U.P.’s highest political structures, things quieted down pretty quickly.

The Members of the Substitute Legion of Super-Heroes of Throon, circa 2978 (“5 years Later” begins in 2980) were:

(01) Chlorophyll Kid: Ral Benem of Mardru
(02) Fire Lad: Staq Mavlen of Shwar
(03) Stone Boy: Dag Wentim of Zwen
(04) Color Kid: Ulu Vakk of Lupra (Blind, but with a LaForge Visor)
(05) Infectious Lass: Drura Sepht of Somahtur (recently returned from an excursion through time)
(06) Porcupine Pete: Peter Dursin of Earth
(07) Polar Boy: Brek Bannin of Tharr (Stayed only a few months; Legion Leader during his tenure)
(08) Quislet
(09) Calamity King: E. Davis Ester of Touston
(10) Crystal Kid: Bobb Kohan of Earth (Late of the Legion Academy)
(11) Nightwind: Berta Skye Haris of Earth (Late of the Legion Academy)
(12) Visi-Lad: Rhent Ustin of Earth
(13) Storm Boy: Myke Chypurz of Earth (Late of Takron-Galtos, and the Justice League of Earth, reformed]
(14) Echo: Myke-4 Astor of Calish-Aetia

During the time of the Braal – Imsk Wars, many of the Substitutes left Throon for extended periods of time. Throon also became sort of an asylum for refugees fleeing the United Planets during this difficult time. These refugees and their descendants, along with a number of former Dominators, actually came to make up the majority of the New Throonans, although the Legion of Substitute Heroes organization (later, the Substitute Legion of Super-Heroes) continued to be respected as a haven for super-powered misfits, and continued to wield substantial political power for many decades. The former Legionnaire Flederweb also eventually found a home on Throon.

Other applicants admitted to the Legion of Substitute Heroes after the end of the Glorith / Time Trapper War in 2986:

‘Estimate Lad’
‘Barber Boy’
‘Plaid Lad’
‘X-Bomb Betty’
and
‘Accordion King’

In later years, ‘Camera Eye’ and his extended family also migrated to Throon. Although he never formally joined the Substitutes, he was considered something of an unofficial “Adult Advisor”.

Modern Throon society is built upon respect for the virtues of diversity, acceptance, and the intrinsic individual worth of all sentient beings. It is possible these qualities are somewhat overvalued on Throon. Many visitors find Throonan society both bizarrely ‘laid-back’, and downright weird. In some ways, Throon resembles San Francisco in the early 1970’s, and Hawaii—well, in any decade.. Only moreso.

Nice lineup, Klar. I sure would love to see some stories of that group of Subs. I like your epilogue showing the future of Throon, and how the Subs made Throon stand for something.

Of course, this was all based on the story originally in Adventure Comics #319.

I don’t have any other full-length stories with this cast; maybe a few vignettes, though.

The Citadel of Throon and the Substitute Legion of Super-Heroes play a significant role in my extended story arc of the 33rd century Legion, appearing in Klar Ken T5477’s Last Tales.

Notes you may have missed:

Spaulding Explorer Magazine{/i} on Schwar is a reference to Captain Spaulding.

“Item”, the semi-telepathic Ayrie, is based on Hal Jordan’s extraterrestrial “pet”, Itty, in Green Lantern.
There are a number of other very interesting plants in the DCU. Gingold. Sauncha. Black Mercy.

The Verunmoeglichener is a perfectly good German word, the nearest English translation being “Impossibilifier”.

The Energiekannichen, misheard by the Subs as “Energy Cannon”, is also German, and actually means, approximately, “Energizer Bunny”

The “Blitzhund”, of course, is a “Lightning Hound”. Also some kind of werewolf in some onlne video games.

The Reality Cannon: Ezer and Eben know it better as the Wirklichkeitpistole.

The ‘Time Mirror’ is a literal translation of the name of the German magazine, Zeitspeigel.

The Mazel Sieve: Mazel is Yiddish for “Luck”, either good or bad. For example, a wish for good luck is “mazel tov”, a character with nothing but bad luck is a “schlimazel”.

* * *

"How clever I am! Oh, the cleverness of me!” – Peter Pan

“Yes, you’re very smart. Shut up.” – Grandpa, [i]The Princess Bride

Love the richness of the terms you picked, Klar. Nicely done.

Epilogue 02

Color Kid and Rainbow Girl were dressed in the gray-and-gold uniforms of the diplomatic corps. Three wall of the cell were a nauseatingly bright electric green. The fourth wall was criss-crossed with periwinkle-blue force-bars.

“This is not a malfunction,” Color Kid opined. “Those robots were each individually programmed to conspire in mutiny.”

Rainbow Girl sat on her bunk, knees up to her chin. A shimmering golden aura surrounded her. “Why don’t they just kill us?” she asked. “Why lock us up like this? Surely we can’t be of any value to them.”

“I can only speculate, of course,” answered Color Kid. “Obviously, this is an attempt to take over the diplomatic mission. But they can’t be 1OO% sure they will succeed. Throon has been full of surprises thus far. And there needs to be deniability if they fail. If they succeed… well, I would keep that golden force-shield of yours up and running as long as you can.”

“That’s the problem,” Rainbow Girl replied. “I’m not really in control. I know my powers respond to my emotions—and vice versa—but it sometimes seems so… random.”

“I have learned a lot about my powers over the past two years,” said Color Kid. “In order to pay of the cost of my LaForge visor, LupraGov required that I make myself available for medical study. My powers are the result of the conflict between inter-dimensional physical laws governing the electroweak force. I actually alter the energy potential between quantum electron orbits. That’s why I can’t project my powers into empty space or thin air—I need to be able to target the surface of something solid.”

“You had to pay for your visor by working as a laboratory guinea pig? What about universal health coverage?” Rainbow Girl seemed astounded.

“Not on Lupra,” Color Kid explained. “Fortunately, I got my visor at the beginning of the experiments; I can’t control my powers without my sight. I did learn one important thing, though. Ordinarily, I can only affect a very small range of visible light, approximately the Terran electromagnetic spectrum. But for trans-Feynmanium elements—Kryptonite, Zoronite, Sigellian, and so forth—I can alter their natural ionizing radiation. It has something to do with the electron shells and the nuclei of those elements being quantum-entangled.”

“If only I knew as much about my powers,” said Rainbow Girl. “When I’m frightened, I throw up this yellow force-field. Most of the time. When I calm down, the yellow fades to a blue aura, but it doesn’t seem to do anything. When I’m angry, I can sometimes project destructive blasts, but of course, I can’t really focus or direct them. The only time I really feel in control is when the green aura turns up—I feel like I can do anything! But it’s exhausting, and never lasts very long, and doesn’t seem to be tied to any particular feeling.”

“Really?” said Color Kid. “I never really understood your powers, either, but… I think I may be see a pattern...”

“And I always radiate a charismatic aura,” Rainbow Girl continued. “But about the time I married Irv, my powers began to disappear. My aura faded to mauve, with no particular accompanying abilities. Then after he died…‘ Rainbow Girl’s golden aura faded away. “After he died, there was no aura at all. I was experiencing the most crushing, conflicting emotions of my life, and my powers were simply gone... I felt so alone…”

“Of course,” Color Kid murmured to himself. “Sorrow is not part of the Emotional Spectrum…”

“Then, of course, when Niedrich took over, it all came roaring back. Anger, mostly. But the other colors, too… That’s when I joined the Subs. But you were already gone…”

“Greetings, Ambassadors!” Two figures stood outside the prison cell. They were dead ringers for Color Kid and Rainbow Girl. “We are your Android Avatars. It is our responsibility to act as your representatives to the Guardians of Citadel of Throon. After the Legion of Substitute Heroes has been imprisoned on this ship, you will be safely escorted back to your homeworlds in the United Planets.” The android paused, as though receiving instructions from some unseen source. “There may be a brief intermission while you and they are tried and imprisoned for your crimes.”

Rainbow Girl’s golden aura snapped back on. Color Kid stood visor-to-visor with his doppelganger through the force-wall. “I wish to speak to your superiors,” he said. “I don’t know who you are, but you will fail. The substitutes will see through your impersonation. None of the Khundish invaders, nor the Dominators, will trust you to convey them anywhere. Whoever is behind this, you will be disgraced in your eyes. Turn the ship around, provide us with properly programmed robots so that we may complete our mission. No one need know of your incompetence.”

The Rainbow Girl doppelganger spoke. “We are aware that you have used your power to blind the visual sensors of these androids. This will not impair them. These mechanisms have extended optical capabilities. It is you who will fail. You do not know who you are dealing with, it is true. But one day you will, and you will tremble. We now go to contact your companions on Throon.”

The android doppelgangers left the cell.

“I was not bluffing,” Color Kid told his cellmate. “The Subs will not be deceived by these androids.”

Rainbow Girl’s aura flickered from gold to cerulean blue.

Approximately half an hour later, the lights went out. The force-bars on the cell vanished.

“The Subs have shut down the ship,” Color Kid deduced. “Only emergency life-support, minimal lighting, emergency manual communications. Let’s go.”

Color Kid and Rainbow Girl made their way to the command deck, Rainbow Girl’s ever-brightening blue aura augmenting the dim emergency lighting. Every time they based one of the dormant, deactivated robots, Color Kid changed its color to heliotrope. “Just marking our way,” he explained. “Idiots. Sending atomic-powered robots to Throon.”

The android doppelgangers sat glassy-eyed and unmoving in the command chairs. Their heads and arms drooped at odd angles. Chemically powered, they ought not to have been affected by the neutralizing field.

Rainbow Girl replayed the last message. It was Fire Lad.

“U.P. Space Ark, you do not have authorization to approach or land on Throon. When your eccentric orbit carries you beyond the neutralizing field, return immediately to your home port. Any agreements with UPGov and the sovereign world of Throon are terminated. UPGov will need to provide substantial guarantees and demonstrations of good faith before negotiations may begin again.”

Color Kid rolled back the heads of the androids. Burn marks in the temples evidenced the detonation of remote suicide devices.

Scrawled across each android face, in bold, permanent, color-changed interlac graffiti, were the words:

HELLO. I AM AN EVIL ANDROID DUPLICATE. I AM NOT TO BE TRUSTED

What a fantastic epilogue Klar.

I particularly liked your explanation of Colour Kids powers - being able to affect Kryptonite was a major power jump for him back in the day but you explained it well. Rainbow Girls aura relates to the Lanterns doesn't it? Sorry I don't follow any of their books so I'm guessing here.

Anyway, loved the last line - Ulu Vakk rocks!

Epilogue 03: Vignette

Ulu and Dori would have preferred a Coluan to verify the robot’s programming prior to the departure of Space Ark II, but Colu was on the outs with the U.P. They had to settle for a Bismollian computer genius by the name of Renkil Kem. He accompanied them on their journey to Throon.

* * *

Mukluk the Khund was disgruntled.

They had been kept for weeks in the dungeons of the Citadel, with no one to fight but each other. Now they were being herded like cattle into a filthy United Planets vessel.

The proud Khund Nation reduced to this! Walking meekly through a gauntlet of unliving machines, armed not with proper killing weapons, but cowardly Taser-beams. Any resistance was met with immediate humiliation, struck down, living but unconscious.

He would find a way.

The robots were cheap, simple, brainless. They had no sense of strategy. There were only six living beings supervising them. If he could lag behind, keep out of their sight, then pretend to stumble, duck, and roll… the robots would Taser-beam one another. There would be an opening in the gauntlet. He would be free.

It worked beautifully. He was running, fighting against the neural restraints, bashing his wrists against any outcropping of rock he passes, the metal and plasteel gradually cracking and crazing. With an explosive, nerve-numbing shock, the restraints exploded.

But he was being pursued. Curse the humans and their flying belts! But it was only the female diplomat: and he was free! She would face his unbridled wrath.

“You moron!” The scarlet energy blast washed over Mukluk. It burned like fire, it tasted like blood. “We are trying to help you! We are trying to send you home!” Mukluk was lifted high in the air, then came crashing down hard on the ground. “Where do you think you can run? Do you want to gamble your life with the flesh-eating plants out here? Should we send the Blitzhund after you? Would you rather rot forever in the dungeons?” Another wave of energy hit him like a giant mallet, almost solid. He tasted blood again. His skin burned. His hair fizzled. “Not that I care! After what your people did to Xolnar, I should care what happens to a miserable Khund?” Another blast lifted him into the air, smashing him against a cliff face. The world sparkled with little twinkling lights, then went black. “My father…” the red aura faded.

Rainbow Girl, special U.P. diplomat to Throon, sank to her knees. A few tears trickled down her cheeks. “My father… I need to go see him again.” She went to rejoin her comrades. Two robots came to pick up the unconscious, smoking Khund.

Renzil Kem! Wow!

Loved your exploration of the powers of Color Kid and Rainbow Girl. Color Kid is turning out to be quite a formidable hero, not just in terms of powers but in terms of demeanor.

I am having a little trouble with Dori.

The daughter of a humble pluridium miner, (with whom she has a complicated relationship) she is a former Miss Xolner, and a failed Miss Galaxy.

She married into old Earth money; but I believe she truly loved Irveang Polamar, so much so that during their brief time together (she was tragically widowed) her powers were overwhelmed (and suppressed) by that single emotion.

As an terran-stock alien who married into an Earth family, she was targeted by the Xenophobic Movement led by Kirt Niedrigh. She thus replaced Color Kid in the Subs in opposition to him. (sidenote: “niedrig” is a German work meaning ‘vulgar’, or ‘low-born’)

Prior to working with Ulu Vakk in the UP diplomatic corps, the two had not actually met in person.

Her powers are dependent upon her continual emotional volatility, and are somewhat random and unpredictable in their effects. She also feels deeply, partly due to her natural personality, and partly due to her connection with the Emotional Spectrum.

I want her to transcend the math-is-hard, over-emotional, damsel-in-distress Barbie stereotype.

She ought to be a good ambassador, used to navigating aristocratic social circles, and skilled at charming people. Her charismatic field is her one constant ability.

Still working on it.

I like your planned direction for Dori. The emotional volatility does make it hard, but I agree that her background should make her a great diplomat even without the charismatic field. Maybe all she needs is to gain better control of her powers.

You know, I’m not making up Dori’s backstory.

I only summarized what is recorded in The Legion of Super-Heroes Role-Playing Sourcebook and Who’s Who In The Legion of Super-Heroes as well as what we learn in the RetroBoot.

The more I work with them, the more I realize: the Subs are interesting.

And yeah, it's Renkil Kem, Tenzil's brother.

Yes, I know Doris's backstory is "canon" so to speak. But I like how you are weaving it into your writing.

I recognized the name good to see Tenzil's bro back.

Egilog #4: Vignette

The Dominator was blue-skinned, although the color didn’t seem to matter to their race.

“In your own language, my name would be…” he paused, thinking. “Doctor Obadiah. I am a physician, well-acquainted with the physiology of both Dominators and Terrans.” His voice crackled and hissed beneath the cultured Interlac.

Stone Boy frowned. “One of the Dominion vivisectionists,” he said.

“I am more familiar with Terran culture than many of my people,” Dr. Obadiah answered. “You must understand that none the Dominion subscribe to your concepts of ‘good’ and ‘evil’. To us, there is the will of the One True God. We are His servants. His Will is all.”

“And yet half your people refused to return to Dominion Alpha, asking instead for asylum here on Throon. “Yourself included, I might add.”

“But we are all heretics,” Dr. Obadiah replied. “We have failed to complete the Will of the One True God. He is not forgiving. We knew the risks, we are all volunteers. Glory in success, or Doom in failure.”

“And what of those who left?” Stone Boy interjected. “Have we sent them to their destruction?”

“Mostly, they were Priests and Warriors. High-caste. There is mercy for such as they. There is a saying amongst the Dominion: ‘The One True God is blind, we are His eyes and ears.’ Some of them may be rewarded for the intelligence they bring home. Some, perhaps, may be demoted in caste. We have seen for ourselves that the Citadel does not obey us as it obeys you. Our Dominion is not recognized here. There could have been no other end to this Crusade than failure.”

“And yet your god will punish you for his lack of foresight?” Stone Boy asked.

“The One True God is not omniscient. We are His eyes and ears. All who have failed will receive their just punishment eventually, whether in this life, or the next. We who remain simply desire to forestall that punishment as long as possible. A quiet, simple life is all we ask. The Brutes, of course, just do as they are told, and the Priesthood told them to remain behind.”

“As for myself, I propose to set up a medical clinic, with your approval,” Dr. Obadiah continued. “In a group of three hundred souls, even damned souls, there will be births, eventually. There may be native-born Throons again yet.”

* * *

Within six months the first Dominion child had been born on Throon. They named her Neah.

“Names are important to our people,” Dr. Obadiah explained.

A hundred years later, when both the original colonists and the Substitutes had passed on, she would be known as Neah the Eldest.



The young family had desired to establish a home outside, in the open area surrounding the Citadel. It was to be the first of a proposed independent town. The house was small—about ten meters across, and three meters high, a half-dome of clay, with interior clay walls dividing the living area into six small rooms.

“Private homes are still built this way on Alpha,” Dr. Obadiah explained. “It is a tradition dating back many thousands of years.”

The wet clay was painted, and dry brush piled up within and around the small home. Fire Lad was requested to ignite the blaze. Within a short time, the fire died away, and the clay had been fired into ceramic, hardened and glazed. Windows and doors were then added.

Chlorophyll Kid accelerated the growth of the Lightberry Ivy. Soon large green-black leaves covered the outside of the home. The Ivy would absorb light-energy during the day; clusters of fruit within the dwelling would illuminate the interior at night.

He had created a garden of other native Dominion plants around the home as well. There would be fresh Vegfruit, and Na’Az, and Dominion Dates.

The Brutes had been manually constructing an artificial salt sea, in which the Krill that formed the basis of the Dominator’s diet was to be grown. It would be completed before a year was gone. The Citadel was able to provide a nutritious, pasty, protein-rich gruel, but the Dominators insisted that fresh Krill would be far more acceptable. The little house faced the sea.

The distant Dominion Homeworld itself had been remarkably helpful in supporting the settlers. Entirely unarmed cargo ships brought supplies from the Homeworld on an irregular basis. This included Priests—Reverends, or Clerics, Ministers or Preachers—the universal translator could never quite decide on the term—who held forth preaching as the supplies were delivered. Perhaps unsurprisingly, a few of the refugees returned home after the first few exhortations, but not many, and none at all after a while.

A gold-skinned Dominator approached Fire Lad and Chlorophyll Kid. “It is a great honor they do you,” he said. “To allow you to assist in the building of a new dwelling. And I have been honored to be here as well. Still, our ship will leave soon.”

“You are one of the priests,” said Fire Lad, noting the very large circular tattoo.

“I am Reverend-Cleric… let me see… in your language… Tomás? Castor? Perhaps both.” He continued: “I am a Speaker for the One True God, and I have a message for you and your two companions from Him. You have earned Grace in His sight, for the manner in which you have treated His lost, heretical servants. This colony will soon be independent, and when it is, you will hear no more from us.”

“Very nice,” said Fire Lad. “But if the colonists return to the Homeworld, their lives would still be forfeit? Even young Neah?”

“Well… the Will of the One True God is ineffable.” Reverend-Cleric Tomás Castor made his way back to the waiting ship.

Doctor Obadiah approached Fire Lad. “Do you know what they call Throon on Dominion Alpha, the Homeworld?” he asked rhetorically. “In your language, ‘Colony Purgatory’.”









Typical Range of Skin Colors in Dominators

Epilogue #5: Vignette

"Superman is strong and powerful, and can afford to be patient, kind, and gentle. Batman, in order to survive, has to be an S.O.B." -- Anonymous

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Chlorophyll Kid hit the wall hard.

“{My collarbone is broken},” he thought to himself. He tried to stand. Sharp flashes of pain ripped through his body. “{I think my my hip has been crushed as well}.”

The red-haired giant facing him was head-and-shoulders taller than Ral. “Foolish Legionnaire,” he boomed. “You should have stayed hidden in your fortress, like a cowardly pup.”

Chlorophyll Kid noted the crimson hair, the glowing gold eyes. “{An Almeracin, then},” he thought. . “{Galactic gypsies. Dozens of small settlements on dozens of worlds.Their homeworld destroyed a thousand years ago, they have never found one to replace it. }.”

Chlorophyll Kid lifted up again, and casually thrown against another wall. Lights danced before his eyes.

“{He’s toying with me},” he thought. His seed belt has split open, the floor was covered with and spores from a hundred worlds. “{I have red-sun blossoms for Daxamites and Kryptonians, but what would stop an Almeracin?}”

“Do not think I have anything personal against you,” the Almeracin apologized. “Our people have been denied a homeworld by the United Planets for centuries. But once you and your colleagues are dead, my employer has been promised Almerac a world of our own.”

“{It’s not the UP’s fault},” Chlorophyll Kid thought.“{There have been hundreds of Earth-like planets discovered, or planets that could be easily terraformed. But apparently, there was only one Almerac}.”

Obviously, the Almeracin’s goal was his death, although he seemed to be stalling, perhaps working up his nerve. But Ral could hear the Mardruan Science Police on the other side of the slag-sealed door, and the Almeracin could surely hear them as well. Time was running out. Ral needed a Hail Mary pass; if only he could reach it.

“My seeds,” said Chlorophyll Kid, speaking for the first time. Blood dribbled from his mouth. “Many of them… extremely valuable.” Excruciatingly painfully, he crawled a few inches across the floor. His hand closed around a large scarlet seed the size of his palm. “This one… cost me a thousand credits. It is worth a hundred times that… please… let me live.”

“This is what I think of your seeds.” Lightning flashed from the Almeracin’s eyes. Years worth of collected seeds vaporized immediately. Ral’s shoulder was struck as well; the jolt caused him to drop the scarlet seed. The Almeracin scooped up the seed. “I will take this one, though, and see if you are telling the truth. Goodbye, Legionnaire.”

“{GROW}!” thought Chlorophyll Kid. “I’m not a Legionnaire,” he said. “I’m a Substitute.”

Black Mercy sprouted in the Almeracin’s hand, then springing, planted itself in his chest. He fell like a tree, a smile growing on his unconscious face.

“I imagine you have found a new homeworld after all,” said Chlorophyll Kid.

The Mardruan Science Police finally broke through the door.

Epilog #6: Vignette



COLOR KID AND RAINBOW GIRL, AMBASSADORS TO BLAX

“You and I spend entirely too much time together in prison cells,” Rainbow Girl observed. “I don’t know why you wouldn’t let us fight our way out of there. Those guards didn’t look so tough.”

“We are here on a diplomatic mission,” Color Kid replied. “We must respect the local customs. Even if the local custom is to throw U.P. ambassadors in jail.”

“The dungeons on Blax are far less comfortable than that brig on the Space Ark,” Rainbow Girl observed. “Far less clean, as well.”

“Nineteenth-century technology,” answered Color Kid. “Pre-robotic. Not even household ‘bots.”

The strange, silver-gray sun of Blax shone through the high dungeon window. The red-and-gold trim on their diplomatic uniforms—even their hands and faces—were washed-out shades of grey.

“Blax, the World Without Color,” mused Color Kid. “The white light from that star is purely monochromatic—a single wavelength and frequency. Physical laws governing optics seem affected as well.”

He gestured towards a wall. “My powers still function here, after a fashion. I can change the white bricks in the wall to grey, or a darker shade of grey, or another shade of grey, even black.”

“Your powers work,” said Rainbow Girl. “Mine are gone. My aura isn’t just invisible, it isn’t even there. And I feel emotionally empty. I ought to feel angry, or afraid—I’ve always been a little claustrophobic—but instead, I feel nothing. As grey as the sky.”

“Stand back from the door!” a stentorian voice ordered.

A stone-faced guard opened the cell, admitting an elderly Blaxite in voluminous robes.

“Ulu Vaxx and Dori Aandraison of Earth, I am Ambassador Dun.”

“Well, neither of us is really from Earth,” said Rainbow Girl. I’m a Xolnar, and Ulu is a Lupracon…”

“You must understand,” said the Blaxite Ambassador, “To the Grand Council, anything beyond Blax is Earth. It is a term of…” he lowered his voice. “Disparagement.”

“And does the Council understand, that the imprisonment of foreign ambassadors has historically been considered an act of war?” Color Kid replied.

“Please, try to understand,” the ambassador answered. “it has been decades since we had contact with the people of Earth. Things are not now as they once were. Your being sent here… your names, for example… are considered an insult and an affront to the Grand Council. That in itself is cause enough for war, in their minds. Please, it is up to the three of us to prevent that.”

“I am sorry, we really do not understand,” Color Kid replied. “How has the Grand Council been offended?”

“Many years ago,” Ambassador Dun began, “Our world was found by your space-explorers. Several of our people returned with them, to the space beyond Blax space. They spoke of strange, new senses, of secret properties of matter, of the exquisite beauty of the Universe beyond the world of Blax. The Grand Council treated their reports as the ravings of madmen. It has become an article of faith among our people that there are no such things in the outside Universe; that Blax is complete unto itself. Such words as…” he lowered his voice. “rainbow, prism, spectrum, chroma, and the various names you use for the different ‘colors’ are now considered the most abominable of blasphemies. ‘Advanced’ alien technology is also rejected as suspect.”

“Yet Blax itself requested that trade negotiations be opened with the U.P.,” Rainbow Girl objected.

“Yes, yes,” Ambassador Blax brought out a small pouch. He opened it for them to see. “This is the soil of Blax. The earth of Blax, do you understand. Worthless. Yet the soil of your world—that is, the earth of Earth—is known to contain massive quantities silicon dioxide and bauxite—the raw materials for precious glass, and corundum. Blax wishes to trade for this precious soil of Earth, if mutually acceptable terms can be reached.”

Color Kid adjusted the settings on his visor. “Your soil seems to be the product of both biochemical and volcanic properties It appears to contain, among other things, calcium carbonate, graphite, diamond dust, and natural fullerenes.” He looked up at the ambassador. “I imagine that we could arrange a mutual trade agreement of approximately one ton of Blax soil in exchange for one ton of U.P. soil.”

“That is madness! I am gratified to know that you believe your world would consider our soil so valuable, but I doubt that I could convince the Grand Council that such an offer was legitimate. Perhaps we could negotiate for… oh, one thousand measures of Blax soil for each measure of Earth’s.” The Ambassador’s face turned grim. “Sadly, those negotiations will be carried out with your successors, if there is not all-out war between our peoples as a result of your permanent disappearance.” He sighed.

“Please,” said Rainbow Girl. “Ask the Council to reconsider. Any offense to your people was the result of ignorance. Let us return to… to Earth. Accompany us, and explain to the Diplomatic Corps the subtleties of dealing with your people.”

The Ambassador paused. “Many years ago, as a young man, I, myself, journeyed to Earth. I tell you, I experienced no epiphany of sensory enhancement. I saw no ‘colors’. It is a myth. A tale of the deranged, meant to undermine our society. Do you understand? I cannot accompany you back beyond the world of Blax,” He looked at the two with pleading eyes. “Please say you understand.”

Rainbow Girl looked into the old Blaxite’s eyes. “I understand,” she said. “I know exactly what you saw on Earth. You could not have seen… what others thought they saw… because such things do not exist.”

“Thank you,” said the Ambassador. “I am sorry I cannot help you further. The Grand Council will leave your ship in orbit, as a warning to other blasphemers, but I am afraid you are to be executed at the rising of sun tomorrow morning. The Grand Council will send someone for you before then.”

“Wait,” Rainbow Girl continued. “Blax has something even more valuable to trade. At the heliopause of your primary, there is a discontinuity in the laws of physics, which might be exploited to generate free energy. Our physicists and engineers could mine that reserve; but Blax could benefit as well…”

“Can you not understand?” the old ambassador interrupted. “This alien technology—it is as anathema to the Grand Council as… as the other. Blax has nothing to envy in the worlds beyond Blax. That is the official dogma. The Grand Council is somewhat willing to trade for raw materials, because of their inherent value. But they cannot allow alien technology on Blax, they cannot be questioned in their decisions. They cannot allow blasphemy, and they cannot court blasphemy by allowing Blaxites to visit your worlds. I wish I could do more for you…” He gave another pleading glance. “Your ship will remain in orbit, as a warning to others who would blaspheme against the Grand Council. You, yourselves, will be executed as sun rise. They will come for you before then.”

Color Kid looked at Rainbow Girl after the old Blaxite had gone.

“It’s a million-to-one chance,” he said, “But it just might work.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” said Rainbow Girl.

“I think the Grand Council would be satisfied with our disappearance, if we could escape ourselves. At least, no Blaxite would leave Blax to pursue us.”

“They took our flying belts, and our communications devices. The bars seem quite sturdy, guards seem unresponsive; I’m not generating a charisma field that might influence them. I’m thinking clearly and coolly about this, but I don’t see a way out of here before morning.”

“I’ve been thinking about this for months, doing some research,” said Color Kid. “I want to tell you a story.”

“Billions of years ago, at the creation of the Universe, nine intelligent, emotional, and energetic entities came into existence. Each was linked to a particular emotion and color. Rage, Wrath, or Hatred was Red. Avarice was Orange. Fear was Yellow. Will was Green. Hope was Blue, Compassion or Empathy was Indigo, Love was Violet. Death, Chaos and Destruction was Black, Life, Order and Creation was White.
“Certain ancient races were able to bind these entities to their service. Certain of the Malthusians, for example, were able to control the entities of Will and Love, and manipulate their energies. The Oans, for example, created the Green Lantern Corps, who used the entity of Will to power their rings.
“I believe that you have somehow formed a tenuous bond with these entities, and that your emotional range and power is somehow augmented by them.
“Coming to this colorless void has rendered you emotionally empty, as you have so long associated your own emotions with the ‘colors’ of the Cosmic Emotional Spectrum.
“But I also believe that the ‘colors’ of the Emotional Spectrum are subjective illusions. Many alien races see beyond or outside the visible spectrum that Terrans are acquainted with. I believe the Green Lanterns manipulated not Green Energy, but Will Energy... it might have appeared argentine, or russet, or near infra-red, or far ultra-violet to some non-Terran race.”
“You cannot access your feelings right now, because you don’t have the appropriate chromatic stimuli. But you might be able to access your will.”

“Will?” asked Rainbow Girl. “How do you ‘access’ will?”

“I don’t know,” said Color Kid. “Somehow Green Lanterns use their will-power to create hard-light constructs, and their other ring effects. Independent of their emotions—without fear, without rage. Have you ever wanted anything so badly you almost willed it into existence?”

“I never really wanted anything,” said Rainbow Girl. “I never really wanted Miss Xolnar. I only saw it as a way out. It’s a scholarship program, you know. And with Irv… I had more than everything I could have wanted. He would have given me the moon, if I’d asked for it. Probably could have, too. But all I ever wanted was… to live happily ever after.”

Color Kid sat down on one of the uncomfortable cots. “Well, if you could manage to be happy until sunrise, you would get your wish.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I look at other people’s abilities, so much more impressive than mine, and I sometimes imagine how I might use them. It doesn’t always occur to me that maybe they don’t work the way I might think…” He looked up at Rainbow Girl. She was on the other cot, apparently deep in meditation. There was no trace of an aura around her.

Time passed. The sun set. There was a shift change in the guard. Apparently no one had thought of feeding them; no meals came.

Color Kid stared silently out the window. A tiny, barely discernable dot crept above the horizon into the night sky. Their ship, in low orbit around Blax. In a short time, it would pass almost directly over their heads, a scant twenty kilometers away. If they could walk straight up, they could be there in less than a day.

Another robed Blaxite came to the cell. If Ambassador Dun had been old, this one was ancient. Her face was deeply lined, she had cheek-pouches like an adult orangutan.

“I know what you are thinking. You believe the Grand Council will be merciful, that they will tolerate your efforts to escape. But your efforts are futile. I am Ecru, the Far-Seer, Senior member of the Grand Council. You are not the only beings with super-natural powers. I have seen the future, and you are doomed. I have seen these walls, and they will stand. I have seen this roof—it will not be breached. The bars will not be broken; the locks will not be forced. I have seen the boy standing over the lifeless body of the woman. He, himself will die alone. This is your future, and it is not far distant.”

Seer Ecru drew forth a weapon from her robes. It was crude: some sort of a projectile launcher, but as deadly as any energy pistol.

Color Kid stepped between Seer Ecru and Rainbow Girl. One part of her prophecy would not be fulfilled: he would go first.

A glowing aura surrounded Seer Ecru’s weapon. It was the palest olive-green, nearly grey, but stood out in the monochromatic world like a candle in the night.

“Unclean, unclean!” cried Ecru, dropping the weapon. “Guards! Guards!”

Color Kid turned to look at Rainbow Girl. She was surrounded by the same pale olive-grey aura, floating inches above the cot. As she opened her eyes, the aura expanded into a sphere, encompassing them both.

“Break through the ceiling,” Color Kid encouraged her. “Break the old woman’s prophecy!”

In silent concentration, Rainbow Girl moved them toward the wall opposite the bars. Then, phantom-like, through the wall, up through the ground, and into thin air. Color Kid sighted out their ship, approaching through the star-lit sky. They changed course to intercept it, and passed through the wall of the ship as easily as they had escaped the Blaxite dungeon.

The pale aura vanished. Rainbow Girl collapsed in a heap. “Dori, no,” shouted Color Kid. “Not after all this! This can’t be the future the old woman saw!”

Rainbow Girl looked up at him from the floor. “I refuse to be the kind of girl who faints,” she said. “But I feel like my brains have just been sucked out through my eyeballs. I need at least a good twelve hours of sleep. Can you help me to my cabin, and then pilot us out of here by yourself?”

* * *

Decades later, Ulu Vaxx did, indeed, die alone.

Dori Aandraison, eventually, lived happily ever after.

HOW IT ALL STARTED: Supplemental “We need an ‘Urk’”

Two years later.

Color Kid, Crystal Kid, and Nightwind stepped out of the Legion cruiser onto the impossibly green grass under the impossibly blue sky of the world known as Mariceleste. The golden star-sun Daleth Meissa shown in the sky. The neatly laid out boulevards were lined with fruit trees in a variety of colors.

Color Kid adjusted his laForge visor. The atmosphere was free of radio or sub-etheric signals. There was essentially no industrial pollution. “Looks like Paradise to me,” he said. “But then, I’m a City Boy.”

Nightwind took in a lungful of the clean, fresh air, and drifted up a few feet off the ground. “So this is where Urks come from?” she asked. “Why don’t they call it Urkworld?”

“The Mary Celeste was a sea-going vessel, found adrift on 19th-century Earth,” Crystal Kid explained. “The ship was found with a table set for dinner, the stove still hot, but no crew or passengers on board. This planet was found in a similar condition.”

“What do you mean? The planet is set for dinner?” asked Nightwind.

“Walk into any one of these houses,” said Color Kid, “and you will be served a meal by automated ‘bots. Stay here long enough and those meals will become customized to your personal tastes and physiology.
“You can relax after dinner with sixty channels of entertainment, available twenty-four hours a day—but it is all ancient pre-recorded material, repeating on a one-hundred-twenty-year cycle.
“New furnishings are provided to the homes regularly; the old stuff is collected and recycled by more ‘bots. Buildings are re-painted on a regular basis. Damages are swiftly and efficiently repaired. Factories stand ready to receive special orders, and produce goods immediately. But there has no one here since Cleopatra ruled Egypt, except for a few U.P. archaeologists. No one is home.”

“All the life-forms here: trees, birds, insects—exist only as scenery and landscaping for the billions of homes in a hundred thousand cities across the planet. All have been obviously genomorphed; the gremlings are completely artificial, having been genoformed from the ground up.”

“And these ‘gremlings’ are what we are here for, right?” said Nightwind.

“All the machinery control is decentralized,” Color Kid explained. “There is no single command center. If a local hub is damaged, there is no way for it to be fixed, so an entire sector could eventually fall into disrepair. The gremlings fix that. They range all over the planet, making the repairs the auto-systems can’t. Not truly sapient, they are nevertheless astounding intuitive engineers. They exist on the detritus of the machines—they essentially eat worn-out technology.”

“If we could acquire just one for the Citadel on Throon, it would assist us immeasurably in keeping things running smoothly,” Crystal Kid added.

“Those sound a lot like Urks,” Nightwind said. “Isn’t this the planet of the Urks?”

“Exactly,” Crystal Kid responded. “They’re technically called gremlings; but that’s what we’re looking for: an Urk.”

Nightwind rose into the air again, a light breeze in her wake.

“Was she not paying attention at the pre-mission briefing?” Color Kid asked. “Chloropyll Kid’s presentation was pretty comprehensive.

“ADHD. Short-term memory problems. Forgets to take her meds,” Crystal Kid explained.

“Then why bring her on this mission?” Color Kid asked.

“There was a gremling at the Legion Academy on Montauk Point,” Crystal Kid explained. “RJ Brande had acquired one, somehow. We called it ‘Urk’, because of the sound it made. It wasn’t social at all, but would just turn up here and there from time to time, kind of in the background of things. Most of the Academy kids just sort of assumed it was some another applicant with a weird disposition, me included. We mostly kind of ignored it, but Nightwind got along with it pretty well.”

“Hold on, I see one,” said Color Kid, adjusting his visor. “Inside that building up ahead.”

Inside the building, there was no trace of the gremling. “I can’t see where it moved to,” said Color Kid. “There must be tunnels and passageways honeycomging this city.” They went back out to the street.

“I’ve got an idea,” said Nightwind, landing beside them. “I’ve looked all over, but these little guys move fast[/]. Why don’t we just, you know, [i]summon them?”

“What do you mean?” asked Color Kid.

But Nightwind had already flown up into the air, and was summoning the wind against a small home. “If I can just break the windows,” she said, “I the Urks will show up to fix it, right?”

“I don’t think you can break those windows,” Crystal Kid said. “That’s not glass—it’s transparent carborundum!”

But while the windows were not breaking, Nightwind was managing to cause significant damage. Dust and pebbles sand-blasted the walls of the house. The window-frame began to work loose. Suddenly, the door flew inward, off the hinges.

Nightwind drifted back down to the ground. Immediately, a half-dozen gremlings showed up, rapidly repairing the damage. “Well?” she said. “Grab one!”

Using his power to materialize his thoughts as crystal, Crystal Kid enclosed one of the gremlings. Its companions immediately turned their attention to the Substitutes.

Attacked by scrabbling gremlings, Crystal Kid lost his concentration. Nightwind struggled against the onslaught, fleeing upwards again with the wind. Color Kid immediately lost his laForge visor. The gremlings quickly slipped away, abandoning their repair work. The street was empty.

“They tore off my visor,” cried Color Kid. “Do you see where they dropped it?”

Crystal Kid and Nightwind looked around. The street was remarkably clean. “Sorry, I don’t see anything. They probably took it with them,” he said. “Wait! My flight belt is gone! So is my Subs ID ring, and my telepathic earplug!” He checked his companions. “They took all[i] our technology!”

“Back to the cruiser we must, urgently,” Color Kid insisted. “My visor without, no powers control have I.”

Crystal Kid puzzled for a moment. {[i]Without our telepathic earplugs, we will hear only our regional Interlac},” he thought.

“We’ll go back right away,” Crystal Kid assured his friend. “But what is so urgent…” Then he saw. Color Kid’s uniform began to shift in a kaleidoscope of brilliant, fluorescent colors. The air around him, and the ground beneath him, began to shift as well. Color Kid was becoming difficult to see, and the effect was spreading. Crystal Kid realized that in a short time, they would all be blind. “Nightwind!” he called into the sky. “We need to get back to the ship right away!”

“Wha tar eyo usa ying?” asked Nighwind. “An dwh ati swro ng’wi Thco lork Id?”

Crystal Kid sighed. “Ship. Go. Now.” Crystal Kid ordered. “Fly. Wait.”

Nightwind shrugged. “OK,” said Nightwind, and took off into the air again.

The two Substitutes worked their way back through the city. It was only a couple of blocks, but the colored chaos was spreading along the ground, and through the air like a mist. Nightwind re-appeared.

“Shi pgon e,” she said, gesturing at their landing site.

The cruiser was gone. In its place was another vessel, one unfamiliar to Crystal Kid. Their used, retrofitted Legion Cruiser was a triple-nacelle, patched and pockmarked rust bucket. This ship had five nacelles, and was gleaming silver, as though it had just come off the assembly line.

As the tree approached the strange craft, Crystal Kid saw an emblem beside the hatch: SLSH. After all these months, had the Substitute Legion managed to purchase a second ship? And why had they come looking for the three of them on Mariceleste? And where was the old cruiser?

A swarm of gremlings exited the hatch, “urking” and “orking” happily.

The ship had been the subject of a gremling upgrade.

On board the re-designed cruiser, they found their equipment: flying belts, telepathic earplugs, I.D. rings… neatly sorted and stacked. Color Kid’s laForge visor was also included with his things. Everything appeared to have been thoroughly cleaned. “{What upgrades had they received?” Crystal Kid wondered.

“Should we try again,” Nightwind asked enthusiastically. “One of these Urks would be great at the Citadel.”

“I think not,” Crystal Kid replied. “They clearly know where we live, and I would not like to make them angry, and have them disassemble the ship.” Color Kid joined him at the controls. “I think we just need to return to Throon, and declare the mission a failure.”

Half-way to Throon, a terrible rattling began above the ceiling tiles. The three Substitutes were alarmed, until the tiny head of a Gremling popped out. It flung itself into Nightwind’s arms.

“He’s so cute,” she gushed. “I think I’ll call him Urk-2.”

* * *

“What I don’t understand,” said Polar Boy, “is why Mariceleste has not become a refugee world like Throon. We have a couple of Braaliens or Venadons or Imskians or Ozdeans—even displaced Earthers—showing up here every day.”

“You haven’t been there,” said Crystal Kid. “Sure, Mariceleste could house a thousand times what the Citadel does. But… the three of us were there only a few hours, and we were glad to get away. It’s beautiful, perfect, and really, really creepy. I didn’t really realize how uncomfortable I was there until I left. The Citadel is the remnant of a dead civilization, sure. But Mariceleste is… something else. Undead, maybe. I don’t know. Watching. Waiting…”

The Indigo Tribesman was clearly a Ganesagarian.

Elephantine, twelve feet tall, with six eyes, four arms, and a bifurcated trunk, it loomed over the restaurant table.

“Dori Aandraison Polnegar…” it intoned.

“Actually, on Xolnar, we don’t use patriarchal names,” Dori corrected him.

“… you have shown a capacity for great compassion,” it continued, undeterred. “This lantern, staff, and ring… Ow! Ouch! Hey!”

Iridescent kaleidoscopic energy arced from the Indigo Tribesman’s staff, the multi-colored bolts grounding themselves on harmlessly on Dori.

“Er… apparently there has been some mistake,” the Indigo Tribesman apologized, in a significantly more high-pitched voice. It strode rapidly out of the restaurant, knocking loose a piece of the doorframe in his hurry to escape. The energy arcing did not stop until the staff and lantern was well clear of the restaurant.

Myke-4 Astor looked at Rainbow Girl curiously. “Does this happen to you often?” he asked.

“Only when I try to have a social life,” she answered. “Don’t you hate blind dates? There’s always such anxiety about making a good impression.”

The waiter approached the table, calmly waving aside the remaining multihued smoke. “Sorry,” he said. “Baked beans are off.”

“Well, then,” said Rainbow Girl. “I’ll have the Lobster Thermidore.”

I like the quirky little touches, like Nightwind having ADHD. It's rare and refreshing to see Crystal Kid be one of the more competent heroes for once.

The Mariceleste is an ingenious idea and I share Crystal Kid's disturbance.

Loved the exploration into the Dominators' culture and beliefs.

Rainbow Girl is kicking ass, I think your piece on Blax opened the door to her flourishing as a hero.

Thank you so much for your kind comments. Thanks to Harbinger as well.

I have been unable to phrase appropriate comments to your fanfic threads, but I appreciate that you are keeping the Legion alive.

I have a great deal more I would like to write; years worth, in fact, but my failing health makes that impossible. I will soon be taking a break from Legion World for at least a little while.

LLL

You are very welcome, Klar. And thank YOU for sharing your wonderful stories and ideas with us.

Thank you also for your appreciation of our own writing.

I hope you have a revitalizing break and I do hope we see you back here soon.

LLL.

Hi Klar,

I really like your take on the Subs and this possible future for them.

The Dominion were shown to be a lot more than just a planet full of manipulative scientists with a bee in their bonnet about genetics, which was well over due. The religion was a nice touch.

Dori and Ulu trapped on a diamond world where colour is a crime was great - Coincidentally I'm writing a sub plot with a group of Legionnaires stuck on a world where colour holds particular relevance to the inhabitants too. Ulus' interest about Doris abilities was well written (and thank you for the explanation about the colours and emotions they match), as was their escape. It's really interesting how you've partnered them up into a convincing couple (of friends I assume)and given them such believable personalities within two short tales - his practical and imaginative - a true Sub, hers tougher though not as creative - as a result of probably never really having had to try as she said herself. It was very nicely done!

Of all your classic ideas though the one you came up for Urk is my favourite - I read your original in another thread and it was really good to see those ideas in practice. The planet Marieceleste was a delight, in a creepy sort of way. Berta being ADHD was interesting too. Crystal Kid being useful was definitely a change too

Did you come up with the Ganesagarian or is that race an 'established' race? I fell in love with Ganesh as a god (small 'g') while I was first in India about 25 years ago and have a small collection of things to do with him so was particularly pleased to read about the Indigo Tribesman (was that another GL reference by the way?).

Hope your health gets better quickly and I'm looking forward to more of your imaginative, engaging and entertaining stories.

More, more, more!

Well, this a little late, but Ganesagarians are a race established only in my own mind.

Four-armed yellow / orange / golden-colored elephantine bipeds. Just like they sound.

I was a little bored today, and put together a list of some of my favorite new 'Subs' who eventually migrate to Throon (in my mind).

Substitute heroes are like a box of chocolates: you never know what you're getting, and I can't stop at just one.

Absorbasconcy Boy of Thanagar: Has the power of ‘absorbing’ knowledge regarding one single topic at a time from throughout the Galaxy. Has a range of only about a thousand parsecs, and a limit to the amount of knowledge he can process—the topic must not be too general or complex.

Alter Boy: six forms: Human, Were-Lion, Were-Bull, Were-Eagle, Were-Ape, and Were-Dolphin

Amalthea of Io is one of the Amazonian Diaspora. In addition to ordinary-level Amazon strength and speed, she has internalized the “purple healing ray” of the Amazons, and can project it from her eyes.

B.F.M. (Big Furry Monster) is a essentially a huge furry mass of tangled hair—and nothing else. Attacking, it can tangle and knot its hair into fists, backed with several tons of mass, or relax the strands, allowing attacks to pass harmlessly through it. Essentially secure from physical attacks, it is vulnerable to energy-based threats, particularly fire.

Brightside: Power of Super-optimism. She sees herself as the antithesis and nemesis of Darkseid.

Bumblebee Batgirl - Just like Manbat, only 1/2-inch tall

Candy Girl: She’s a Cwookiee.

Crepuscular Girl has Daxamite-class super-strength and durability, but only when the sun is below the horizon, but the sky is still light—that is, at dusk and at dawn.

Crivens - A Pictsie

Elegant Lad: Super-impeccable taste

Elephant Lad: He's a Ganesagarian.

Fantastigirl of Nyorp - Planet of shapeshifters - "Planet of Supergirls"

Glass Cat of Karna, Vegan System. An ordinary (that is, Kzin-like) Karna, with the ability to transform himself into solid glass.

Guitarra - Possesses a magical blue guitar which can temporarily alter the nature of local reality

Huaru: She has the ability to turn any individual into another individual, provided they are both of similar mass, volume, and power level. For example, she can change Lightning Lad into Sun Boy, or Superboy into Mon-El, but not Sun Boy into Superboy.

Kid Alchemy of Myar: has the ability to change the attributes of substances, e.g. color, hardness, stickiness, density, etc., without changing the actual substance itself. For example, can make lead appear superficially to be gold, while molecularly, it is still lead.

Kid Alternity has the power to bestow visions on others. These visions are representations of what their current life would be like, if they had changed some decision in the past. He cannot make that alternate reality real, but he can make it visible. For example, Imra might ask, “What if I had married Rokk instead of Garth?” and see a vision of what that future would have been like.

Kid Coward (Noel Poltroon of Myar) in a manner similar to Nemesis Kid, has the alchemical ability to escape from any danger, and is often able to bring two or three other people with him. This ability does not always manifest itself as the power to instantaneously teleport miles away.

Megaphone Boy has the power to increase the volume of any sound.

Microphone Boy has the power to turn sound into radio-wave impulses.

Nosyarg Kid of Zrfff

Pretty Polly - Avian super-ventriloquist

Silver Girl is an albino Daxamite. She lacks most Daxamite powers except super-strength and high durability; however, she is also immune to lead poisoning. While Terran albino rats have pink eyes, and human albinos’ are light blue, albino Daxamites have silver eyes.

Supercalifragilisticexpialidociousgirl: Cheerful, fairly attractive, playful, kind, clever, sweet-tempered, generous, musical, excellent sense of humor; practically perfect in every way.

The Girl With Kaleidoscope Eyes: Has the ability to create unconvincing illusions.

Thylacus: Has two 'tasmanian tigers' which respond to his will

Wingman: Has the ability to fly by manifesting a vast number of different wing types, both organic and (apparently) inorganic: various kinds of bird wings, dragonfly or butterfly wings, pterodactyl or bat wings, jet-powered rocket wings, bi-plane wings, just to name a few.

Allison Wonderland and Looking-Glass Lad of the Sorcerer’s World
Allison and Charlie Lutwidge are a pair of twins who have inherited an interest in the centuries-old Lewis Carroll stories from their parents. Students of Sorcery, Mom and Dad Lutwidge have managed to enchant their children with bizarre Carrollian abilities.

Alice carries about with her her own ‘Wonderland, a ‘private universe’ pocket dimension in which all her fantasies take on a dream-like reality. She is able to transport other objects and people to ‘Wonderland’, but is unable to enter it herself. Rather, this ‘Wonderland’ dimension is ruled by ‘Mary Ann’, a reflection of Alice’s Id, a sort of ‘Dark Alice’. Alice is aware of all that occurs in ‘Wonderland’, and but has no influence over Mary Ann; her only direct power there is to draw individuals back out into the real world.


Charlie has the magical ability to transform himself into any of the a three-dimensional representation of any of the Tenniel illustrations in either of the Alice books. In doing so, he may gain certain abilities: the Cheshire Cat’s invisibility and teleportation powers, the Gryphon’s flying ability and fearsome aspect. the Jabberwock’s flying and fire-breathing, or Old Father William’s super-acrobatic ability.

Artin and Martur of Exxor, the “Wormhole Twins”
When they activate their powers, whatever one twin swallows, the other immediately coughs up.
Obviously, their powers are not always active, otherwise they would both starve to death.
By their early teens, they had learned to swallow items as large as flight rings; not too much later, they had mastered sword swallowing.

Tornado Boy: Back in the early days of the JLA, it seemed like the only powers J’Onn J’Onzz used were flight and ‘Tornado Breath’. Tornado Boy is a green-skinned, bald-headed ‘fat hero’ with exactly and only those powers. And probably a costume similar to the Martian Manhunter. In some ways his powerset is similar to Nightwind.



The Animal Control Squad
>Laocoon Lass: can manifest three giant pythons—one from each ear, one from her mouth—who can attach her enemies. Afterwards, they slip back to where they came from.

>Snow White (Blancanieves)
Skin white as snow. Hair black as ebony. Lips red as blood. Yes, she is a vampire, and not the nice, sparkly kind.
Loathe to feast upon other sources, she retains a rotating cadre of non-sapient apes as her source of living blood. Which means the SLSH has access to a small force of mind-controlled vampire gorillas.

>Swarm Boy: Has mental control over a particular swarm of wasps. Carries the wasp nest on his back as part of his costume.

The Palindrome Squad:
>Lesma Damsel: Like all inhabitants of the planet Lesma, she is able to transform herself into a giant, 5O-kg slug. In this form, she can also spit small, 250-g slugs out of her mouth.

>Kid Ik has the power to sicken or cure any sort of fish.

>Lower Respiratory Infection Girl (L.R.I. Girl): Able to infect anyone with a wide range of Terran and alien pneumonias and bronchitides, some mild, and some lethal.

>Yo Boy: Power of super-loud shouting.