Legion World Forums LEGION OUTPOST Bits o' Legionnaire Business How it all started: an Earth-K story

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.