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CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THIRTY-FIVE
COLLAGE

Three hours earlier:

Their names were Lombrix and Kamar, and they were Mallorean guards. Their assignment for the last two years was Lady Tasmia, and her son, when he was home. They had escorted her here in the shadowship.

Neither of them would have ever said a word against Lady Tasmia.

Talokan hearing was too sharp.

Lombrix looked at the unconscious, mottled form of Menaleas Mallor.

“Rejected by the Shadow Cave,” thought Lombrix to himself. “No better than me. But a descendant of Sarven Mallor, so he receives special consideration. Nobility, indeed.” He spit in his mind, but his face remained impassive.

Kamar had also been tried in the Shadow Cave. He had scarcely passed the entrance, when he turned and ran. Voices had been whispering to him from deep within the shadows. Therefore, while he did not mind serving the shadow-casters, but he disliked associating with them. He sometimes imagined he could here those same whispers coming from the darkness they projected. As a consequence, he preferred assignments with the son than with the mother.

Professor Gauean Mallor was an old, heavy-set, white-haired Talokan. He had been teaching medicine at Metropolis University for decades. He was on staff at University Hospital, and while he held no official administrative position, the Chief treated him as an equal. When the young Talokan had collapsed on University grounds, he had immediately been called upon. It was a puzzling case-- at first, nothing seemed to be physically wrong with the boy-- except that he was in a coma.

Gauean Mallor was therefore half relieved and half offended when the boy’s personal Healers showed up from Talok, and took over the case.

Dr. Beltza Mallor had raised Menaleas from a zygote. She had nurtured and monitored him in the Artificial Womb, and supervised his birthing. She had served as the Talokan equivalent of godmother to the boy, as well as Chief Pediatrician. She had had high hopes for him, and was both surprised and disappointed when he failed as Shadow Champion.

Then Dr. Itzal had taken over primary care of Menaleas, when he turned twelve. He was as conversant as Dr. Beltza with the boy’s unique Talokan-Human physiology.

By decree of the Talokan Council, they were to take over his treatment.

And so they, too, took some offense two hours later, when Renlo Tagor of Colu emerged from a Time Tetrahedron.

It was fortunate that Menaleas had been brought to one of the University Hospital’s operating theaters, rather than a simple operating room. In addition to the Coluan, three Healers and two Guards, Tasmia and Korvea were present, although relegated to the observation seats.

“We suspect a severe allergic reaction,” Dr. Iztal explained. “Note the rash on his face and body-- it is a human phenomenon known as hives.”

“A reasonable diagnosis,” said Renlo Tagor. A battery of Coluan medical diagnostic devices floated above and around his head. “And the reasonable response and treatment would be removal from the allergen-producing environment-- in this case, presumably, Earth-- or the administration of an appropriate adrenergic agonist. Yes-- a reasonable diagnosis indeed. But entirely wrong, I’m afraid.”

The three Talokan Healers sputtered their indignation.

“I was multiply degreed in exobiology before any of you were born,” Renlo Tagor casually observed. “You are correct in one thing: that this coma has nothing to do with his Talokan genome. However, neither is it entirely to do with his human ancestry.” He paused, as the Healers looked puzzled. “It is his inherited metagene,” he continued, speaking slowly.

“I do not suppose your eyes differentiate color as well as a Coluan,” Renlo Tagor continued. “But it is apparent that these ‘hives’ as you call them, are of four different shades. A deep genetic probe indicates that they represent four separate species of metagene. This is his native metagene,” he indicated, “inherited from his father. This is Cargggan, this is Bismollean, and this is a Tharran strain.”

“He is absorbing the powers of some of the Members of the Super-Hero Club we met today,” said Tasmia. “Like Kirt could.”

“His father’s metagene,” said Renlo Tagor, “Allowed him to temporarily utilize excess hyper-bio-energy from the local environment. Your son appears to be re-writing his own genome-- at least, the manner in which his meta-gene manifests itself. I believe he is permanently replicating these various abilities.” He looked at his readouts. “And at the way it is progressing, I would project that he will complete the process in less than four hours.” He looked at Lady Tasmia. “It is not an instantaneous process. Each re-calibration of his genome appears to require a coma of two or three hours.”

“So he will be a combined Cargggan-Bismollean-Tharran-Terran when he wakes up?” asked Korvea.

“But still half-Talokan,” said Renlo Tagor. “And with an ordinary Talokan appearance. The Terran discolorations will be re-absorbed. But should he come in contact with other metagenetic Terrans… he would ‘absorb’ their powers as well.”

“But he has been in contact with metahumans before!” Tasmia protested. “He was been close friends with Ann, Kimota, and Atta-- and associated with them at the University for months!”

“Ah, but Kimota Grezz and Atta-Karr are hetero-metagenetic. As are the Ranzz twins, and Pol Krinn-- whose metagenetic presentation, it is true, he has not replicated. I believe he needs to be in close contact with a specimen of a pure, stable metagenetic Terran sub-race. Not a one-off mutant, but a sufficiently stable metagenetic that it has formed an extant population. There probably needs to be physical contact involved, although close proximity may be all that is required.”

At this news, Dr. Itzal and Dr. Beltza began conferring together.

“We need to have him visit Geeqou,” said Dr. Itzal. “And Naltor.”

“I wonder if Titans would be stable enough for him to replicate?” wondered Dr. Beltza. “There is tremendous variability in their telepathic and telekinetic powers.”

“Imskians, Bgztlrs, Durlans and Daxamites are non-Terran humanoids… too bad,” mused Dr. Itzal.

“We ought to track down Jan Arrah, the last Tromman,” said Dr. Beltza.

“I will thank you, Healers,” said Lady Tasmia, “To cease so enthusiastically putting my son into a series of two-hour comas.”

“Forgive me, Lady Tasmia,” said the guard, Lombrix, bowing low. “But this must be immediately reported to the Council. It is too important a development to keep… private.”

“I have every intention of informing the Council in due time,” said Lady Tasmia. “But if you would like to bask in the glory of that duty yourself, by all means, do so.”

Lombrix left the surgical theater in an enthusiastic rush.

=============================================================================

“Would you mind terribly?” Tasmia Mallor asked the Grezzes with exaggerated politeness, “Could I ask you to sit at the far end of the cafeteria? Menaleas wants to see his friends, and it could be dangerous.”

“Dangerous? To us? How?” asked Meta Grezz.

“Dangerous to him,” said Tasmia. “A kind of… allergic reaction. The two of you together may have the power to put him into a coma again for another four hours.”

“Just us?” asked Kort Grezz.

“Menaleas will explain,” said Lady Tasmia. “And we do want you to see him. Just… later, after he’s rested up, prepared himself, and had something to eat.”

==============================================================================

“It’s very strange,” said the three copies of Menaleas, as they fused back together. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.”

“Some of us don’t,” admitted Ffiona.

“And a whole new sense of taste,” said Menaleas, eating a fork and spoon from off the table.

“You’ll need to pace yourself,” said Matter-Eater Lad Two. “Just because you can eat a hundred kilos in one sitting, doesn’t mean you should.”

The temperature around them began to drop. The Super-Hero Club and Super-Villain Club began to breathe out breath like steam. Glasses of water on the table frosted.

“And how do you develop such fine control?” asked Menaleas.

“Practice,” said Polar Lass. “Years and years of practice. Frankly, many Tharran glaciokinetics don’t bother.”

=============================================================================

The little Talokan shadowships emblazoned with the Mallorean crest left Earth in the midst of a crowd. Most of that crowd was happy to see them go. The Science Police were there as well, to enforce a perimeter.

The guard Kamar piloted the craft with the two healers. Lombrix was crowded in with Korvea, Lady Tasmia, and Menaleas.

The second ship made a brief stopover on Mars to drop off Korvea and Chameleon at the clubhouse. The ship continued onward with Lombrix and Lady Tasmia alone.

The real Menaleas Mallor fell off the ethernet radar, as other ‘alien threats’ to Earth took precedence among the Earth-Firster movement.

And as long as he kept a low profile, Metropolis University was happy to have him.

=============================================================================

“You need a new code-name,” said Razor. “We can’t go on calling you Prince Talok.”

“We could call you Duck,” suggested Villian.

“No.”

“Shadow Duck?” suggested Villian.

“No.”

“What was that crafts project our parents always had us do to keep us busy in pre-school?” Razor asked Black Flame. “Where we would lay down different colored strips of paper or plasteel film to make a picture?”

“Collage,” said Kimota Grezz. “You know, that’s not a bad name. It really describes his new powers-- and the ones he hasn’t even got yet. And if he displays those powers regularly, and keeps his ears covered, he will be assumed to be a multiple-metagenetic Terran. Which, you know, he is.”

“I agree,” said the newly-christened Collage. “‘Collage’ sounds like a super-hero name. Or super-villain, as long as the so-called ‘Justice League’ is still administering so-called ‘justice’.”

=============================================================================

“Hello, cousin,” said Menaleas, from Earth.

“Hello, cousin,” said Korvea, on Mars.

“The Council has tasked me with conveying a message to you.”

Korvea sighed. “I was expecting this. Go on.”

“I am to complete my studies at Metropolis University, and will be allowed to earn a Ph.D. in Advanced Hydroponic Gardening. This should take another six or seven years. I am to spend my spare time, and my summer breaks, accumulating whatever metagenetic abilities I can, and learning to master them. After I have earned my degree, I am to return to Talok VIII as husband of the new Mallorean Planetary Champion.”

“Namely?” asked Korvea.

Menaleas nodded his head. “It appears that we are betrothed.”

“It is not unexpected,” said Korvea. “It is… logical? I suppose we ought to start dating in a couple of years?”

“I’ll invite you to the awarding of my Bachelor of Science degree,” said Menaleas. “We can go out to dinner afterward. Maybe take in a show. Or go dancing. Do you dance?”

“I’ll learn,” said Korvea. “I’ll consider it part of my Champion’s education.”

=============================================================================

AUTHOR’S NOTES

Titan’s metagenetic abilities did prove too varied or unstable for Menaleas to duplicate. Nor was he able to acquire the abilities of the Phlonite sub-race of psychocatalytics.

He did, however, eventually gain the abilities of the following races:

O1 Cargggan
O2 Bismollean
O3 Tharran
O4 Braalien
O5 Kathooni (infra-red vision only)
O6 Zwenite
O7 Atlantean
(There is a funny story about how Menaleas goes on a date with an Atlantean girl at MU, and ends up passing out on her doorstep when she kisses him good-night, but this tale has gone on long enough.)
O8 Geeqouan
O9 Naltoran
1O Tromman (yes, they finally tracked down Jan Arrah)
=============================================================================

DIGRESSION
WHATEVER HAPPENED TO…

Mr. B. was tall and broad-shouldered; impressive, despite his age. This was Rikk’s first impression. And it was an impressive impression, as Rikk himself was literally an eight-hundred-pound gorilla.

“If you don’t mind…” asked Rikk hesitantly. “Where…”

“Where do they breed people like me?” asked Mr. B. in return. “Why don’t you guess?”

“Uhn… I don’t really know,” Rikk replied. “Durlan?”

“Yeah, yeah… bald, orangey-skinned-- that’s everyone’s first guess. No, my friend, I am a human. A mutie, but as Terran as you are.”

“I’m no Human,” insisted Rikk.

“No, but your ancestors came from Earth-- Gorilla City, on the continent that looks like a skull. You colonized the world you now call Goodall, establishing a peaceful, parallel culture with the indigenous Trogs. Then you turned right around, and joined the United Planets.
“Now my people wanted to get as far away from EarthGov and the U.P. as we possibly could, and ended up on Lallor, distant enough from Earth, but right on the border of the Khundish Empire and the Dominion. They fought over us diplomatically for a couple of years-- who would have the privilege of conquering us upstart humans-- but then we nearly atomized ourselves in the Accidental Nuclear War, and they thought is best to leave us alone for a few decades. Even the Khunds don’t want to get involved with crazy people.
“Probably one in a million of my generation are mutants, and I am one of a kind.”

“How long have you been at Casino 1837?” asked Rikk.

“It will be my thirtieth sola-year anniversary next occultation,” said Mr. B. “Thirty sola-years in the Accounting Department, in various capacities of increasing responsibilities.”

“You enjoy your work?” asked Rikk.

“I enjoy feeding my family,” said Mr. B. “I have two kids at University, and one starting next year. Here-- we’re taking that white van today. You want to drive?”

Rikk shrugged, and nodded. “OK,” he said.

“This your first time threading the needle?” asked Mr. B.

“I’m sorry-- what?”

“That’s what we call the thirty-block run between the Casino and the Interplanetary Bank,” Mr. B. explained. “Every Accountant takes a rotating shift making the bank deposit. You’ll do this again within the year. Now if this were Earth, or Weber’s World, or Xanthu, it would all be done with the click of a button. But the Casinos on Ventura accept all sorts of money from all sorts of worlds, not just the electronic kind, and it has to be stored somewhere.”

They drove on for a short time, following the randomized path the navi-comp had plotted at the beginning of the trip.

“Notice anything unusual about this route?” asked Mr. B.

“Not really,” said Rikk. “Kind of empty.”

“Too empty,” said Mr. B. “Someone has cleared the route; bought today’s navi-comp directions from someone in the Department.” He clicked his tongue. “Stupid. Ventura does does not look charitably on bribery. Someone will be let go tomorrow. Now, remember, in case of a robbery, the Casino would rather see an increase in their cash-loss premiums than life-insurance premiums.”

“You’re scaring me,” said Rikk.

“Good. Fear promotes caution, and you’re going to need it. Run through the protocols in your head. If you’re going to fight it out, take out the most dangerous opponent first. If you can’t take that one, you’re done before you begin. Otherwise… give up, and give them whatever they ask for.”

“Are we going to be robbed?” asked Rikk. “Does… does this happen a lot?”

“It almost never happens,” said Mr. B.

But it was happening. After the next turn, five heavily-armed pedestrians stood blocking the street. A black, semi-cloaked van stood parked in back of them.

Rikk recognized two Gamorreans, a Dominion Brute, some sort of purplish-gray troll-like alien, and, incongruously, a tiny, bald, dark-blue man.

Rikk stopped the vehicle, and he and Mr. B. got out.

“We’ll take it easy on you,” said the little blue man. “Only the stuff that’s easy to carry. Spican flame gems, living crystal money, glass coins. No Huopian Energy Money, thanks.”

“Five against two. Do you think you can take them?” asked Mr. B., sizing up the gorilla.

The Gamorreans and the Dominator were big, but did not look very smart. They did have some nasty-looking energy rifles trained on them, however.

The purple alien had a double-barrelled blaster in each of its four hands, a total of eight barrels aimed directly at them.

“That’s a Branx Warrior,” said Mr. B. “Reputed to be the best-trained soldiers in the galaxy. Why he’s slumming with these stooges is beyond me. Well? What do you think?”

Rikk shook his head. “We’re completely outgunned,” he declared.

Mr. B. was taking off his coat. He took a magnetic key out from under one armpit. “So, open the back,” he said, handing Rikk the coat and the key.

“Good choice,” said the little blue man. Oddly, he was unarmed. He could not have been more than a meter tall. His companions towered over him, but seemed to defer to him. He was so small that Mr. B. had to crouch down in order to plant his knee in the little blue man’s groin. A double-fisted blow to the top of the head left the little man out cold in the middle of the street.

“Most dangerous opponent first,” Mr. B. noted. “He’s from a high-gravity world.”

Before Rikk could really process what was going on, Mr. B. was an airborne dervish, his feet disarming both Gamorreans and the Brute in an instant.

Time seemed to slow. Rikk noted that the Branx was backing up, moving out of Mr. B.’s rangeThree of his blasters were still pointed in Rikk’s direction. With the fourth, he was taking careful aim at the weaponless Mr. B.-- whose other opponents were now either fallen or falling.

There was a flash-bang, and a smell like burning, rancid bacon. The top quarter of the chest of one of the Gamorreans vanished.

In what seemed like slow-motion, the Branx took another step back, re-aiming all four blasters at Rikk. Mr. B. was weaponless, the Gamorrean energy-rifles meters away. He was at least several steps away from the Branx. Rikk waited for his life to flash before his eyes.

Then Mr. B. had a weapon in his hand after all: some sort of cudgel or staff. A quick figure-eight motion, and the four blasters went flying out of the Branx’s hands. Mr. B. was back on two feet, his arm extended, and at the end of his arm… another arm. And at the end of that arm, one of the Branx blasters.

There was another flash-bang.

“I’ve never known a Branx Warrior to hit something he wasn’t aiming for,” said Mr. B., calmly re-attaching his arm at the shoulder. “Now we know why he was slumming.”

Rikk gaped, open-mouthed.

“He’s not really dead,” said Mr. B. “You can’t really kill a Branx Warrior. He will shortly resurrect on his homeworld of Emana Branx. As an infant. Maybe he will pay closer attention to his training this time.”

Mr. B. toggled the ‘phone in his ear. “Margo, I have a pickup for the SP’s. A Gamorrean, a Dominion Brute, and an Indigo Brobdingnabite. Plus two casualties. There’s a getaway driver in a truck parked nearby, who is currently deciding whether to turn himself over to the SP’s when they arrive, or to take a chance returning empty-handed to his employer. I hope he makes the right decision. The three stooges are sleeping it off; I’m going to give them a little sedative to hold them until the SP’s get here. Proceeding to the Interstellar Bank as planned.”

It was only a few more blocks.

“Robotic arm?” asked Rikk.

“Completely natural,” said Mr. B. “Part of my mutation. Comes in real handy when it takes them by surprise.”

“How did you know they’d be surprised?” asked Rikk. “You’ve been around thirty sola-years. What if they had recognized you?”

“Well, they wouldn’t have tried to rob us then, would they?” said Mr. B.

This iteration of the character is based on the Silver Age version who appeared in Secret Origins, not the later, scrawnier ones in the Reboot or "Legion of Super-Heroes in the 31st Century".

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THIRTY-SIX
GHOSTS

December 25th, Earth Date.

Five Months Ago.

Naltor...

The High Seer dreamed.

It was not a usual dream, a realistic depiction of some future event.

It was… dreamlike. Nura found herself sitting upright in a broad, curtained, antique four-poster bed. The curtains were were drawn aside, and Nura could see the two odd beings stood beyond them.

The first was a strange figure—small, like a child: yet not so like a child as like an old man, viewed through some supernatural medium which gave the appearance of having receded from view, and being diminished to a child’s proportions. Its hair, which hung about its neck and down its back, was white as if with age; and yet the face had not a wrinkle in it.

The arms were very long and muscular; the hands the same, as if its hold were of uncommon strength.
Its legs and feet, were bare, like the ams, and most delicately formed. It wore a tunic of the purest white; and round its waist was bound a lustrous belt, the sheen of which was very beautiful. It held a branch of fresh green holly in its hand; and, in singular contradiction of that wintry emblem, had its dress trimmed with summer flowers.

From the crown of its head there sprung a bright clear jet of light, by which all this was visible. But this was not its strangest quality, for as its belt sparkled and glittered now in one part and now in another, and what was light one instant, at another time was dark, so the figure itself fluctuated in its distinctness: being now a thing with one arm, now with one leg, now with twenty legs, now a pair of legs without a head, now a head without a body: of which dissolving parts, no outline would be visible in the dense gloom wherein they melted away. And in the very wonder of this, it would be itself again; distinct and clear as ever.

Beside the little creature there sat a jolly Giant, glorious to see; who bore a glowing torch, in shape not unlike Plenty’s horn, and held it up, high up, to shed its light on the room. It was clothed in one simple green robe, or mantle, bordered with white fur. This garment hung so loosely on the figure, that its capacious breast was bare, as if disdaining to be warded or concealed by any artifice. Its feet, observable beneath the ample folds of the garment, were also bare; and on its head it wore no other covering than a holly wreath, set here and there with shining icicles. Its dark curls were long and free; as free as its genial face, its sparkling eye, its open hand, its cheery voice, its unconstrained demeanour, and its joyful air. Girded round its middle was an antique scabbard; but no sword was in it, and the ancient sheath was eaten up with rust.

Heaped up on the floor, to form a kind of throne, were turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn, great joints of meat, sucking-pigs, long wreaths of sausages, mince-pies, plum-puddings, barrels of oysters, red-hot chestnuts, cherry-cheeked apples, juicy oranges, luscious pears, immense twelfth-cakes, and seething
bowls of punch, that made the chamber dim with their delicious steam.

“I am the Ghost of Christmas Present,” said the Giant.

“There is no Christmas on Naltor,” replied the High Seer.

“But there is on New Titan.” said the smaller figure. “Which I have visited many times. I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.”

Nura was not unfamiliar with this particular vision. “And where is the Ghost of Christmas-Yet-To-Come?” she asked.

“There is no Christmas Yet-To-Come,” said the Ghost of Christmas Present, solemnly. "Not anymore."

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THIRTY-SEVEN
THE KHUND-DOMINION WAR

The great ship hung over Daxam like a small moon.

There were thousands of crew aboard. All Khundish engineers, or Dominator brutes-- the lowest castes of their respective societies. The brutes had caste-marks on their foreheads the size of pinheads.

A hundred thousand pencil-shaped missiles, none over two meters long, were launched from the bay doors. They blanketed the surface of Daxam, each releasing a sickly green gas. The base formulation was well known, ten or eleven centuries old. It had been modified for Daxamite physiology.

The gas infiltrated everywhere. The epidermis of the population blanched, bleached, turned jaundiced, then white. Zygomaticus muscles were paralyzed, shrunken, the lips, in contrast stretched out into in a horrific rictus. Black, brown, and blonde hair turned various shades of green.

Mad laughter echoed across the surface of Daxam like a soft wind.

Meanwhile, aboard the ship, a beam of light flashed from a radar-like dish, directly at Daxam’s primary. Gravity twisted and distorted, fueling and expanding thermonuclear reactions in the star. Red light turned orange, then golden, then yellow. After some fifteen minutes, the wave of yellow light passed the planetary orbit.

The population of Daxam-- men, women, and children, but animals as well, rose up as one mad mass, to lay waste to the Galaxy.

For the crew aboard the orbiting ship, it had been a suicide mission, of course. They were the first to be destroyed.

The United Planets had some early warning. The Darkseid invasion, and two decades of Daxamite piracy had prepared them. Many worlds were equipped with defenses: Coluan force-shields, Imskian shrinking rays, Bgztlr phantom zone projectors, Kormon stun-beams, Venturan probability distorters, red-sun cannons, and more. However, anything less than lethal force proved useless against the Daxamites mobs. They were to a person both homicidal and suicidal. If they could not kill, they would destroy. In the end, most of the thousands of United Planets worlds were spared much destruction. But the Daxamite population was essentially extinct.

A few Daxamite pirate ships, deep in space, and a small diaspora of emigrants on various worlds, survived. But Daxam itself was a dead world.
It had happened so fast that the Super-Hero Club had not been involved in the war at all. But that does not mean they were unaffected.

Some ten days later, on Mars, Ten stood up from the kitchen table, where he had been nursing a tube of Coluan nutritive paste.

“Something else else is wrong,” he said. He wiped his nose. He looked startled, at the green-black blood on his finger. He vomited, the same green-black blood. It was oozing from his tear ducts, ears, and nose as well.

Star-Woman lifted him in her arms, as sped at ultrasonic speed to the hospital at Nix Olympica. The doctors gave him a bed, but gave her no hope. Black, necrotic patches were already forming on Ten’s skin.

“In addition to being infected with Joker gas,” an orderly explained. “The Daxamites carried some virulent bacteria-- one we have never seen before. In the past twenty-four hours, it has become epidemic across the United Planets.” He wiped a blood-red tear from his eye. “All races and species seem to be affected, both flora and fauna. As far as we can determine, it is at least 90% fatal.”

Star-Woman looked down at her hands, the blackening patches spreading over her own skin.

Kallor Nal woke up in a sweat. It had been a dream.

But a Naltoran dream. And Naltoran dreams always came true.

She had seen the future. And the near future at that.

She had seen the end of everything. At least, of the United Planets. The end.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, incongruously, she heard a fat lady singing.

Very interesting story developments! It seems like you might be headed towards a fractured or destroyed United Planets. I wonder where you are going with this...are the other species the good guys somehow and we the Legion readers have been misled?

[b]POST-MORTEM[/I]

From Tumblr: Writers Write

From Tumblr: Writers Write

From Tumblr: Writers Write

Well, there were some problems with this series, some expected, and some unexpected.

My desire in writing Young Legion was to explore Earth-K2, the Universe accidentally created by Dori and Brainiac 5 in my Rainbow Girl series.

The conceit of Earth-K2 is that first, 5YL, the re-boot, and the three-boot never happened: only TOS and the retroboot. And there are enough continuity paradoxes to resolve with just these two!

Secondly, I wanted Death to have real consequences: Everyone dead (or lost in time) at the end of Levitz & Maguire’s #23 stayed dead, or lost in time. Mon-el also dies before Our Story Begins, because he had his arms ripped off, you know? Also Reep (Chameleon Boy) Daggle and Lluornu (Triplicate Girl, et al) Durgo-Taine, necessitated by my take on Durlan and Cargggan physiologies. And Blok. Because I love Blok, and “kill your darlings”. I also sent Mysa back to the dimension Zeerox was in at the end of #23, because her, I could not bear to kill.

So problems.

I knew I was going to spend a great deal of time world-building, describing the appearance of the Earth-K2 paracosm, and fan-boyishly investigating just how powers and things work. Catherynne Valente does this extremely well; I do it extremely poorly. I slows down the action, bores the reader, and I am not getting any better at it. But this is a Vanity project, so I forgave myself.

I wanted to explore how difficult it is to go super-heroing if you are not Tony Stark, Bruce Wayne, or have the backing of RJ Brande, “the richest man in the Galaxy.” I had not really realized just how difficult it would be, especially for a bunch of teen-agers surviving on the UP stipend. I had the idea that the Super-Hero Club would eventually become the Legion, but they never made it. I had in my mind allowing a “Flying Brick” to join, upping the power levels and making them able to build stuff without paying for it. This turned out to be Kallor Nah, who had all the powers of every version of Star Boy, plus her mother’s. (A teen-aged Lili Van-Zee or Ariella Kent, or a young yellow Martian, were other possibilities.) And the backing of Naltor / New Titan. (Both are in the same star system by the end of #23. Unnamed until now, I call it the Hekuban System.)

I wanted them to have opposition from their own families, and EarthGov, but quickly realized that both those entities were entirely capable of putting the SHC out of business. So I had to soften up the parents a little. OK, a lot. Complete personality changes. Bad writing. The Triplicates and Chameleon remained planetary outcasts throughout, however. Say, do I have a deep-seated prejudice against Cargggans and Durlans?

I wanted them to go up against powerful adversaries, and somehow succeed. In fact, in Book I, I pitted them against Mordru. They very nearly died (and I very nearly let them) and had to have their fat pulled from the fire by the old Legion. In fact, it would have been easy for their parents, and their parents’ wealthy and well-connected friends, to solve all their problems, once I wrote them as supporting the venture. But Dacey and Dorrit, especially, would not have liked that. (Though Chameleon would have been all in, I think.)

Throughout the story, there is also the problem of a lack of consistent POV. Superboy in the 3Oth century was actually just a normal, wide-eyed Earth-kid from Smallville, who just happened to have been born on another planet, and the be the most powerful being in his Universe. Thus he was the perfect proxy for the reader to meet the 3Oth century- and the myriad characters, exotic planets and locations. I unfortunately had no such consistent point of view in Earth-K2, but jumped around from character to character.

(It was much easier to do before with Dori in the Earth-K paracosm.)

The stories themselves were often disjointed, like the single-issue-single-story format of the comics of the 5O’s. This was an intentional choice, but I now rather regret not conceiving of a unifying plot-thread, especially in Book Two.

There may be a way to bring the Super-Hero Club and the United Planets back from the dead, without actually bringing them back from the dead. Death must have consequences, but the death of 90% of 31st-century Earth’s population would still leave ten billion alive. And so on, through the rest of the U.P.

But I am getting tired- or possibly just bored- with this paracosm, and I have the story of the 31st-century Teen Titans at the back of my mind. Also, my slightly fictionalized biography. I have put some of myself into Earth-K2, and I really have led an interesting- if not exciting- life.

We shall see.

TTFN

I hope you didn't stop writing on account of my question...I was just curious as to why the Khunds/Dominion would destroy all life on the planets. I play Stellaris quite a bit, and even extremely xenophobic races leave the plants and animals alive because in order to keep the resources. To me, it would be a waste of resources unless the Khunds/Dominion have an emotional reason for destroying everything (maybe on Earth-3 they do).

My snarky answer to this question was "What makes you think I am going anywhere with this?"

This was intended to be The End from some time ago.

re: the question of "wasted resources". There has been a great deal of human history in which the invaders do such things as "salt the earth", or "destroy all men and women, children and infants, cattle and sheep, camels and donkeys".

Especially with truly alien races, all they may want from Earth is the gravitational well. Everything else is weeds and vermin.

It has been a very enjoyable ride, thanks Klar! I quite like the way you detail the specifics of your world and characters etc, I find it makes me look at different story elements in a new light a lot of the time and sparks fresh ideas for my own stuff

A WAY FORWARD

==========================================================================================================

The irony is, although any particular individual you may have known has only a one-in-one-hundred chance of having actually survived, there are still trillions of sentients-- trillions of stories still being told throughout the United Planets.

==========================================================================================================

Queen Nokomis of Amazonia had the appearance of a serious-faced 12-year-old girl. Whether or not she was actually female or male was a mystery, as all native Amazonians resembled female Terrans whatever their gender.

She was, however, clearly only about twelve years old.

She was accompanied by her Prime Minister and her Vizier, as she would not be legitimately, fully Queen for another half-dozen years.

“The inhabitants of Durla, Iuquhu, Planet Hagen, and Nyorp have withdrawn from all but the most formal interactions with the United Planets,” she reported in flat tones. “As would be expected of such insular species. Dvorak and Galadriel are seriously considering secession, as they see the success of the Khund-Dominion attack as a breach of our mutual protection agreements. With the disappearance of Colu-- still under investigation-- Amazonia has had to turn to the Gildaan for maintenance of advanced technologies.” She eyed the President of Xanthu. “We are not alone in this. It is not ideal. Gil’Dishpan has been pressuring Amazonia to take a less neutral position with regard to the insurgents on Hykraius. Still, without their existence, we may be facing an existential dilemma.”

“There are murmurs anticipating a war of vengeance against the Khund Empire and the Dominion. This is a venture which Amazonia views as both pointless and futile, and possibly quite dangerous.”

“Torad disagrees,” interrupted Prime Minister Torgax. She looked less human than some other Krill species, with her beetling brows and deep-set eyes. “Although we have not yet seen a full-on Dominator invasion, after this overt act of war, one is certainly coming soon. I say we strike first! The Khunds have re-taken Calish-Aetia, Xolnar is now wholly under their military rule, Ikros is negotiating for terms-- the Khunds may settle for a substantial annual tribute-- and Lallor has not been heard from since the attack. None are more aware than the Krill Compact of the dangers of war. Fallout from the ancient Krill-Llorn Wars persists even today, millions of years after cessation of hostilities. But we must dissuade the Khunds and Dominators of their plans of conquest, or the United Planets will never be safe.”

“Safe?” spat Chancellor Neich of Cyranus. She would have passed for human on any Terran world, but there was a subtle, doggy component to her countenance. Her hair was shaved from her chin to the crown of her head, although all the other councilors knew this was a Cyranian affectation, just as Terran males often shaved their beards.

“Ninety-nine out of every one hundred sentient beings in the United Planet is dead of the Plague! Hundreds of thousands of native species face a credible threat of extinction! Interstellar commerce has ground to a halt, and many worlds are starving! This ‘safety’ you speak of has already ceased to exist since this Second Daxamite Invasion!”

“I object.” Representative Lorn-Orl was an old woman-- easily on the far side of one hundred, although still tall and broad-shouldered. “The Chancellor is new to the Inner Council, so I will forgive him his outburst,” she said quietly. “All of us have received emergency appointment-- unless I am mistaken, only I have ever been called to this service before. We must remember that the other Inner Councils will take their cues from the minutes of our meetings. The Tellarite Federation and the Pacht meet later this week-- we must eschew all recriminations, remain united and supportive of one another.”

“Oranx would remind Torad that the red-sun worlds have suffered as much or more from this Dominion attack as any of the rest of the United Planets. Daxam is a dead world-- although the few Daxamites who are left seem irresistibly drawn to there, where only death awaits them. It has become, in the Terran idiom, and Elephant’s Graveyard.”

“The infected, lunatic Daxamite beast-- non-sentients-- seem to have been drawn to the red-sun worlds. Rokyn was inundated by schools of dead fish falling from space. Kormo experience a rain of Kwhale. Almerac, Khera, New Zoron, and Terminus were similarly affected, as was my homeworld. The Plague that has decimated our worlds cannot be blamed on the Daxamites. They were the victims of this attack as well, perhaps even moreso than your worlds.”

“Robots were spared, but the Plague affected androids as well. Even the non-living inhabitants of Htrae succumbed to the Dominion Plague. Of course, when they discovered the threat to their existence, the survivors did as their Bizarro logic dictated: they ‘saved’ themselves by annihilating one another. Htrae is now another dead, empty world.”

Muffled coughing among the other councilors concealed barely suppressed laughter.

“Do not laugh at tragedy,” said Representative Lorn-Orl. “I understand there have been food riots among the survivors of some of your worlds, adding to the toll taken by the Plague. The Sol system in particular.”

“Sadly, what you have heard is true,” acknowledged President Hari of Xanthu. “Earth has been especially hard hit. But the Manna worlds are attempting to accelerate production, and they tell me Venus is amenable to becoming Manna-17, and a new, more local food source for Sol.”

“There are two items I wish to bring to the Inner Council’s attention. The first relates to the Gil’Disphan on Xanthu. They have succeeded in fully sequencing the Dominion microbe-- originally invisible to our medical scans-- and have discovered that it has a pre-programmed evolutionary path. Progressing from innocuous to hyper-virulent in a few days, the next stage in its development is as a vector for eco-forming. Evidently the Dominion synthetic biologists designed it to repurpose all the dead organic matter on all our worlds into a living ecosystem more suitable for Dominator life-forms. The Gil’Dispan have successfully neutralized the threat on Xanthu and in the Sol System, and will be contacting your worlds for vaccination.”

“How do we know,” said Prime Minister Torgax, “That the Gildaan will not utilize this infernal Dominion technology to transform our worlds into ecosystems more suitable for the Gil’Dishpan life-forms?”

“Madame Prime Minister,” said Representative Lorn-Orl, “Torad’s famous skepticism might have served us better before the Dominion attack.”

“Please, Councillors,” interrupted President Hari. “Our worlds have experienced great losses. All our worlds have grievances-- some of us even with one another. But there is a second matter I wish to discuss. A proposal-- which will require a vote of the Inner Council, and very possbily referendums on our various worlds.”

“I believe the time has come to implement the UltraCorp Initiative.”

The room fell deadly silent.

“I propose we begin with a quota of one thousand volunteers from the appropriate worlds,” said the President. “And that we begin a review of the ‘forbidden weapons’.”

The air barely quivered as a young woman shivered into being.

She was in her mid-teens, and perfectly human-looking. Her long, curly brown hair cascaded out from her head, and half-way down her back. She wore a simple black jumpsuit, with black boots, a short red skirt trimmed with blue, and a short red cape trimmed with gold.


“Hi! I’m from a place called Earth,” she said. “One Earth. An Earth. From sometime in the past, I think. I’m pretty sure. I travel around a lot.” She took a deep breath. “My name is Ariella Kent. I think you need me.”

==============================================================
My original intention was to do this in twelve chapters, each focusing on one character, from Wade Stout’s POV.
However, with a brand-new 31st century on its way, why keep fanfixating on old, worn-out Universes?
==============================================================
ANOTHER WAY FORWARD

O1 The Batman Legacy
Wade Stout was a professional circus clown. He moved with the circus, he lived in a circus trailer six to eight months out of the year.

After several years doing ordinary clowning, a vigilante called The Bat-Man began patrolling Gotham City. Within a couple of years, this Batman became famous, and even, in some circles, beloved. Wade Stout put together a new act in which he portayed ”Fatman”, a parody of the Caped Crusader.

Robust and limber despite his frame, he specialized in pratfalls and broad slapstick humor.

At one time, he even helped the real Batman and Robin on a case. (The Case of the Red Mask Gang)

Time passed, and the Fatman-clown routine began to lose its appeal to the crowds. Wade Stout went back to his more ordinary clowning.

At one point, he shared his trailer with one Palmer Leon, who billed himself variously as “The Immolated Man”, and the “Human Burning Cross”. He was essentially a fire-eater and fire-juggler, who at the end of his act would spread his arms wide and light himself on fire.

Wade discovered that this ‘act’ was no trick or deception, but Palmer actually set himself on fire every night, two shows on weekends. He would be brought back to their trailer on a stretcher, badly burned, where he would drink from one of the little bottles in a chest under his bunk. He would then collapse on the bed, and be perfectly whole after a half-hour nap.

One night, Palmer spent a little too long aflame, and when he was brought back to their trailer, he was dead. Wade tried to revive him with the mysterious elixir, but it had no effect.

At the bottom of the chest there was a map to the Fountain of Youth, on a small, otherwise uncharted island in the Bahamas.

By the 31st century, a thousand years of conservative investments had left Wade Stout a very wealthy man. Perhaps no R.J. Brande, but very comfortable. (One of his smaller enterprises was the retro space-traveling “Double Star Carnival and Circus”.) Following the devastation of the Dominion Plague, Wade Stout began a philanthropic project which involved re-creating a new Teen Titans.

It took some doing, but eventually he gathered:

O2 The Flash Legacy
FTL: (V.J. Torr of Rimbor)
Son of Bar Torr and Kiran Singh, born in the 31st century. Possesses both super-speed and light-radiating powers.

O3 The Wonder Woman Legacy
Wonder Girl: (Charity Nikopoulos of Earth) Daughter of the Greek god Hephaestus and Mela Nikopoulos, a human woman. Charity has access to copies of all the weaponry created by her father-- and can even create some specialized items of her own.

O4 The Green Arrow Legacy
M.E.C.H.: (Quinn of Galadriel)
Has access to a wide variety of advanced technology-- basically any device in the DC Universe. Super-computers, Green Lantern rings, 64th-century magitech, Korman stun-pistols, Raagarite duplicator-rays, Rannan Zeta-beams, and so on.

M.E.C.H. is an acronym for “The Museum of Engineering and Computer History”, for which Quinn is Junior Assistant Curator.

Note that Wonder Girl and M.E.C.H. together are quite the team, having access to a wide array of both magical and super-scientific weaponry.

O5 The Aquaman Legacy
Cytrella the Sea Troll
Resident of a deep abyss near one of the dead cities of Atlantis, her people are phenomenally durable and strong, capable of living comfortably at the bottom of the sea. She is also a sorceress with numerous magical abilities, including psychokinesis, and the ability to transform humans into sea creatures. (see Sotrold)

O6 The Captain Marvel Legacy
The Avatar of Sekhmet: (Moli Dor of Tharn)
Empowered by Mariam Abraxas, the 31st-century identity of Mary Batson Bromfield, she is able to transform herself into a teen version of the lion-headed goddess Sekhmet, with all the accompanying powers, abilities, and equipment.

O7 The Martian Manhunter Legacy
Golden Girl: (Pa’az Yald’ah of Ra’Akham H’Ronmeer)
A diasporate yellow Martian. (They actually prefer the term Aureate Martians.)

O8 The Atom Legacy
Quant: (Maara Yan, originally of Colu)
Colu has disappeared, no one knows where. There are now small Coluan ghettos (barrios? pueblos?) on Manna-5 and Sklar.
She shrinks. Herself and other things.

O9 The Zatara Legacy
Zatamazzar: (Zaragoza Stefanacci of Earth)
An illusionist. Anything he says backward appears to happen. Gnihtyna eh syas drawkcab sraeppa ot neppah.

10 The Cyborg Legacy
Cyberion: (Jasmin Rebeka Chazz of Earth)
She is a technologically augmented artificial human created by the Technis Construct as a kind of experiment. She just discovered this recently, as until now her parents brought her up as an ordinary adoptee.

11 The Hawkman Legacy
Aurora the Bird-Girl of Nesos Nubicuculia, an island near Themiskyra on Earth. She is of the same race as the 20th century Wonder Girl’s Bird Boy.
(New Themyscira has moved to Io, the moon of Jupiter, because EarthGov paved Paradise Island and put up a parking lot. The Iotian Amazons actually fared pretty well during the Dominion Plague, due to their still having access to the Healing Purple Ray.)

12 The Superman Legacy
Rocket, son of the thousand-year-old Krypto, and a member of a superintelligent Caninoid race near Procyon. His mother’s name is Skyla. Rocket looks very much like a younger version of his father, but with golden ears, paws, and a golden tip on his tail. He has the power of speech, and possesses opposable thumbs on his forepaws. Very close to his parents, he calls and visits them regularly.

Does anything ever end in comics? It's all out there waiting for its moment of re-introduction or reincarnation. A post-plague galaxy with Coluan ghettos and the Superman legacy enshrined in a noble line of dogs, among other unique creations, is good reading even in its undeveloped form.

Your origin story for Collage was wonderful, with its logical limitations to acquiring all super-powers; it's kind of an ugly duckling or secretly-born-the-prince story.

As for the smell of burning rancid bacon, that must have been a sad morning in the Klar Ken household.

DIGRESSION
CONVERSATIONS

YESTERDAY:

"You wear a copy of your father's original red "Lightning Boy" costume," said Eulia. "But you use your aunt's "Lightning Lass" name."

"And you use my Aunt Salu's "Shrinking Violet" name," said Dacey. "My niece is also named Violet. That's a lot of Violets."

"But shouldn't you be "Lightning Girl?," asked Eulia. "For consistency, I mean."

"'A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds'," said Dacey.

"Hobgoblin?" Elulia mused. "That might be a good name for Chameleon."

============================================================================

"I know you eat only Coluan Nutritive Paste," said Irinia. "But you really have to try this." She set a small, black hemisphere down on the laboratory work bench.

"Primarily Coluan Nutritive Paste," said Ten. "It is efficient. The Paste my Adult Guardian sends me is especially compounded for my metabolism at this age and stage of my life. Of course, I can- all Coluans can- eat alternate foods, if the need arises. What is this?"

"It's chocolate," said Irinia. "The Nahs sent over a box of Wienrich and Boettcher's from Gzbk. They are... very good. And mostly gone. I saved this one for you. Please try it."

"Certainly," said Ten. He popped the chocolate into his mouth, and it was gone in a moment. The little chocolate weighed only about a third of an ounce, but to Irinia it was worth at least four bites.

"I appreciate the sugar, for quick energy," said Ten. "And the vegetable fats are nutritive and sustaining. But I have always found it interesting that Earth creatures find it metabolically pleasurable to ingest small amounts of poison."

"Chocolate?" cried Irinia. "Poison?"

"Yes, trace amounts of caffeine and theobromine," said Ten. "Only mild toxins to humans... but it seems anomalous."

"Then I don't suppose you would like one of the bourbon-filled chocolates Mrs. Nah's mother puts out for Christmas, then?"

"Alcohol has no effect on Coluans," said Ten. "Just another energy source, really. That is true of many other life forms in the Galaxy. Another Terran anomaly. However I do appreciate your sharing with me. It is a learning experience."

"A learning experience. High praise from a Coluan?" asked Irinia.

"Indeed," said Ten. "The highest."

"Well, you're welcome then, I suppose," said Irinia. A part of her regretted giving away the last of the Wienrich and Boettchers.

When Ten was alone, he picked up a crystal beaker, and carefully vomited up the caffeine and theobromine as a brownish oil. Not one to waste anything, he titrated the mixture into a little bottle, and marked the Coluan symbol for "poison" on it. He then stoppered it, and put it on his chemical shelf, making a mental note to separate and purify the ingredients when he had the time. He hoped he had not offended Phantom Girl, but his mind was so disoriented by the toxins while they had been talking, he could hardly think straight. He made another mental note to show Irinia some extra kindness in the future to make up for it.

=============================================================================

CHAPTER ONE
THE ENDGAME GAMBIT

TODAY:
Irinia Apero, the Phantom Girl, phased through Star-Woman's door.

"Get ready as quickly as you can," she said. "Your mother has sent an ultra-speed ship for us. The High Seer requests our immediate presence on Naltor. All of us."

o o o

Hours later, the Super-Hero Club were in the chambers of the High Seer of Naltor, Kallor Nal's mother. She seemed tired, and looked older than her fifty-some years.

"...nothing to be done," the High Seer of Naltor was saying. "Already, the Khund-Dominator vessel is on its way to Daxam. In two weeks or less, the United Planets as we know it will cease to exist. We cannot change the future. The Dream is certain, and the Interpretation thereof sure."

"Mother, certainly you would not have summoned us here, if there were no hope," Star-Woman objected.

"There is no hope for us," Nura Nal acknowledged. "We are surging against the tides of time. There is a possibility... if you were to return to a time before all Naltor had these visions... you might be able to alter events... create a new Universe in which the Khund-Dominator War is decided in another way."

"Or never happened!" exclaimed Star-Woman.

'New Titan and the Time Institute are only a half-orbit away," noted the High Seer. "I contacted the Chronarch some five months ago, and he has been making ready..."

"But in opposing the natural order of events?"

"Yes, Kallor. There is a danger you will lose your precognitive abilities."

"I have foreseen my own death," said Kallor Nal. "My precognitive abilities are at an end in any case."

"I suggest that if you are to succeed, the best plan is to stoke the latent mistrust between the Dominion and the Khundish Empire,'' said the High Seer. Before now, no one would have believed they would ever work together."

The Super-Hero Club members marched swiftly to the transport that would take them to New Titan "Perhaps we should split into teams, one team to Khundia, and the other to Elia," Ten suggested.

"A good plan," agreed Saturn Girl. "We can send raw power to Khundia, which they value, and intellect to the Dominion, which they respect."

"This is the Time Cube," said the Chronarch. "We can send each group a few weeks into the past. Strict calibration takes more time than we have; you may find yourselves in slightly different eras. But you should arrive just outside the capital cities of each world."

Star-Woman, Lightning Lass, Cosmic Boy, Polar Lass, Matter-Eater Lad Two, Korvea, and Chameleon made up the first group. The High Seer hugged her daughter, then handed Chameleon a small, green capsule.

"Hang onto this," she said. "You will recognize the moment you need it."

The first group departed. Saturn Girl staggered, and fell to her knees.

"What's wrong?" asked Shrinking Violet. She and the Triplicates helped Saturn Girl to stand.

"Dacey?" said Saturn Girl. "She's gone from my mind... I'm alone? I've never..."

"She no longer exists in this Universe," said the High Seer. "She has been sent to the past. Perhaps when you arrive there, your link will be re-established."

The Triplicates and Shrinking Violet assisted Saturn Girl into the Time Cube. They were joined by Ten , and Phantom Girl.

"The jokerized Daxamites are already on their way," said the High Seer to the Chronarch. "We have precious little time left."

The Chronarch thumbed the controls of the Time Cube.

==============================================================================

The telepaths and telekinetics of New Titan responded to the initial attack in force. There were casualties on both sides, but New Titan gave better than it got.

The Naltorans were, of course, prepared. Many sported leaden wristbands, and lead tchotchkes scattered around their houses and yards for protection. The Precommandos were armed with Red-sun bazookas as well. Some of the more farsighted simply resigned themselves to their final fates. Better to perish now in the debris of collapsing buildings, or incinerated by heat vision, than to await the Plague coming within the week.

Nura Nal sat at her private communications console in the High Seer's residence. She had recovered. She had fallen ill, become feverish. Fever dreams were not to be trusted. She had spent two weeks in a daze, wandering the halls of the palace. It was disorienting. She had dreamed about all these events before. But was she dreaming again, or was this finally, really happening?

"You've lost weight," said Nura.

"I've lost more than that,? replied the emaciated Rokk Krinn. "I'm the only survivor at Lightning Ring Farms. But I suppose, as High Seer, you know that already."

"I see the future, not the present. And I have seen a great deal too much of the future for now. The deaths of thousands of trillions. But I cannot foresee the death of everyone."

"Lydda's gone," said Rokk. "Garth. Imra. The children. Along with most of Winath. We... I... heard from Wondil IX. The Taines didn't make it either. Fewer than a hundred colonists remain alive there. They want to come to Winath-- we have food, you know, which is becoming a precious commodity throughout the Galaxy. Our crops have been decimated ten times over... but we're doing better than others. We had a Zoonan android working with us. it seems even they were not immune to the Plague."

"We lost Tenzil, and Eve, and Noria, and Tenzil Jr. on New Titan in the Daxamite Wave," said Nura. "Bgztl was spared from the Daxamites themselves, but the Plague crossed the Buffer Zone with... someone. Bgztl is devastated, Gzbk seems to have had no survivors. We should assume Jo and Tinya and their family are gone. Zwen and Xanthu are reportedly dead worlds. Many others are not communicating at all... Colu is reported to have disappeared entirely-- population, planet, and all. Perhaps they fled to another dimension, or down into the microverse. We can hope they survived this attack."

"You and I made it through," Rokk commented. "That's something?"

"As High Seer, I am privileged to have access to the best of medical care," said Nura. "They kept me alive when I should have died, even as my own physicians fell around me. It was not enough. I am so ravaged..." She slumped in her chair. "They say now they can sustain my life for another day or two."

Rokk was silent for a time. "I'm sorry," he said. "Beyond sorry. I'm out of sorry. But may I say, you look terrible. I mean that as a compliment."

The High Seer almost smiled. "You've always known how to cheer a girl up," she said.

"High Seer!" piped a high-pitched voice. Now, even in her private quarters, she had no privacy.

"Duty calls," said Nura. "Rebuild for me, Rokk. Please."

The senior member of the new Council of Seers seemed impossibly young. His sparse beard was little more than peach-fuzz.

"How fares Naltor, Huld"? asked Nura.

Huld raised a handkerchief to his mouth and coughed. He was still spitting up red-black blood, but appeared to be making a satisfactory recovery. Nura had no strength to cough anymore, and the nasty stuff was slowly filling her lungs.

"We have nearly re-constituted the Council," Huld reported. "But time is short. You must summon your daughter to be installed as High Seer."

"Kallor is gone," said Nura. "Forever. You will have to choose one of Beren's descendants, or anoint a new House."

"There are so few of us left, and so little time," Huld complained. "Are you sure Kallor will not return?"

"Quite sure," said Nura.

"The great-grandchild of Beren Kah is not yet in her teens," said Huld. It was a peculiar feature of the Dominion Plague that while the very young and the very old were the first to contract the disease, they also recovered and survived at a much higher rate than the general population. "She is the only survivor of the House. But future-blind since birth."

"Perhaps that is what the Fates have decreed for Naltor in this hour," said Nura. "A High Seer to lead them who cannot see a dangerous and uncertain future."

The senior member of the Council of Seers paused. "I see that this is what will be," he said.

I have sent Kallor away to safety, thought Nura Nal to herself. At least for a time. Perhaps she will create a better reality for herself and her friends. But have I already changed the future by sending her into the past? I foresaw the death of trillions. I did not actually see Kallor die. I only saw her dream of her own death."

The Plague had not been kind to Fryda Tor, great-granddaughter of Beren Kah. She had lost all her hair; her skin was badly pockmarked; and she rode in a hover-chair, paralyzed from the waist down. It was hoped the paralysis would be temporary, but no cure was as yet foreseen.

"You will have many people telling you what to think, and do, and say," said Nura. "Most of them will be older than you, and most of them will have precognitive powers. Receive their advice graciously, then make your best decision. You are now the High Seer." She paused. This was a long speech, and she was short of breath. "That's my advice. No better or worse than any other advice you will receive. These are the pharmaceuticals that shorten the High Seers' lives, but expand their abilities. They allow us to see farther into the future, and in more detail. They allow us to dream the dreams of others-- sometimes before they themselves have had them. I don't know how they will work for you. Their effect on the future-blind is uncertain. They didn't help my sister Mysa when she was your age." She paused again, breathing as slowly and as deeply as she could. "I imagine they would give you headaches and a sour stomach. That's what they've always done for me. Do you understand??

"Yes, High Seer," said Fryda Tor.

"No, please, please. Nura will do. Or Ms. Nal. You are the High Seer now."

CHAPTER TWO
THE PAST

Several weeks ago:
The Dominion homeworld:

Elia was an inky black swamp, as far as the eye could see. The little group stood on an island with a narrow shore: a slime-covered beach. Above them loomed immense golden egg-shaped buildings. Stretching out to the horizon, they could see innumerable other isles with similar massive, egg-shaped buildings.

"According to the Chronarch," said Ffiona, gesturing upwards, "This is the Dominion Capitol. I wonder where the doorbell is?"

Shrinking Violet had miniaturized herself, and made herself comfortable in one of Phantom Girl's belt-pockets. The two vanished into that portion of the Phantom Zone pervading this region of space.

Saturn Girl's tears mingled with dripping perspiration. "I can't find Dacey's mind," she said, looking up at Ten and the Triplicates. "Our link is irretrievably broken."

===========================================================================

Several more weeks ago:
The Khund homeworld:

Khundia has a single continent, and the majority of that is permanently eclipsed by its massive moon. Only some edges by the seashore saw any light at all. Yet the Khundish fauna was not adapted to live in darkness, as on Kathoon. Many creatures here had their own personal light-producing organs. Tentacles of some glowing ivy festooned the buildings. The sparse shrubbery luminesced as well. An ever-present mist spread the light across the ground. As Khundia was nearer to the center of the Galaxy, the center of the Milky Way shone more brightly, further illuminating the world.

Somehow, the sparse glow only seemed to accentuate the presence of the dismal darkness.

Star-Woman, Korvea, Polar Lass, and Matter-Eater Lad Two found themselves on the crowded streets of a massive city. Rodent-like creatures with glowing illicia, something like a cross between anglerfish and rats, scurried around their feet. Lightning Lass had collapsed onto Cosmic Boy?s shoulder.

"I feel like I've half lost my mind," she whimpered. "Do you think Dorrit is... do you think she didn't make it?"

"I don't know," said Cosmic Boy. He looked at the others helplessly.

"Is your friend hurt?" asked a large yellow female Khund in passing. "It is unwise to show weakness on Khundia; especially for an Outworlder." She smiled a broad toothy smile, and chuckled gutturally.

The seven Members were almost immediately approached by two Khundish military police, one peach, one pink.

"Why are you here?" asked the big, peach-colored officer. "You are not welcome."

"We have come," said Star-Woman, as confidently as possible, "With an urgent message for your leaders."

The big pink guard laughed, but the big peach officer remained stone-faced. "Take me to your leader?" he said. "How original. We will give you an opportunity to leave now, because you are weak and stupid. This will be your last chance, however. The Spaceport, or the Challenge Courts?"

"The Challenge Courts," said Star-Woman, confidently. The others voiced their assent.

The big pink guard seemed to get control of himself, sobering up.

"There is a saying on your worlds, I believe," he said. "It's your funeral."

The officers handed the members over to a slender, yellow dwarf Khund. "An Engineer, or Scientist," Star-Woman thought.

"I am Qalraq," the little Khund introduced himself. "You will begin at the Tenth Challenge of the Courts, as you are weak and untested." He escorted them into a huge room, filled with all manner of weaponry, from stone clubs to disintegrator cannons. "You may borrow whatever gear you wish, but you will be financially
responsible for any damage to the weapons when you lose."

"And if we win?" asked Star-Woman.

"No outworlder has won in the Challenge Courts for decades," said Qalraq. "But should you prevail, you will advance without penalty to the next level."

"I ought to warn you," said Star-Woman, "I am of Daxamite-class strength. Perhaps you should schedule me immediately for a level-one Challenge?"

"Not possible," said Qalraq. "That would mean a Challenge to the Champion, who is on an interplanetary tour. Should you survive at Level Two, you would be able to face him upon his return, if you were out of hospital. I could schedule you for Level Three, but you would have only half-an-gioq to prepare."

"I am already prepared," said Star-Woman. Qalraq snorted.

"How many weapons are we allowed to take?" asked Cosmic Boy.

"As many as you can carry," Qalraq replied. "But unless you have trained extensively with one weapon for sometime, I think you will find any of them... difficult to master."

Cosmic Boy cast his eyes upwards, and turned up his palms. Ferrous metal weapons of all kinds-- axes, hammers, swords, maces, morning-stars, tribulii, and various pieces of armor came flying through the air, hovering in a massive cloud above his head.

"I'll take these," he said.

"You, I will schedule for the Ninth Challenge," said Qualraq.

CHAPTER THREE
STAR-WOMAN vs. KHOMAR

Star-Woman used her flight belt to hover above the arena, conserving her strength. She had no illusions: her opponent would be immensely powerful. She had her precognitive sense on full alert. She heard the starting gong, signalling the beginning of the battle. The massive, armored Khund moved incredibly fast, but she moved equally as quickly to avoid him. Time caught up with her vision, and the starting gong sounded in real life. The Khund bounced off the heavy force-dome surrounding the arena, and fell heavily to the ground. Star-Woman saw that he was about to fire a red-sun cannon at her.

"Daxamite-class, but not Daxamite," She thought to herself, and allowed him a direct hit. She felt a warm glow. She used the extra fractions of a second to draw the Star-Rod, then felt a wave of future-obscuring tachyons wash over her. "So, they do know I am Naltoran," she thought.

The Khund used a tractor beam to pull the Star-Rod from her hand. Surprisingly, he knew how to use the weapon, and confined her within an energy-globe. She turned up her mass-inducing powers to full force, concentrating on the Khund in the suit, and not the suit itself. The Star-Rod fell to the ground, and she summoned it to her. Two more energy blasts ricocheted harmlessly off the force-dome, as the Khund began to lose coordination in his limbs. He gave a remarkable leap, almost reaching Star-Woman, but then fell back heavily to the ground. His armor began to strain and crack against the still-increasing mass of its wearer. The Khund, gasping for breath, fell out naked onto the superconcrete floor, a Khund-shaped depression beginning to form beneath him...

Qalraq entered the stadium, just below where Star-Woman hovered.

"You may kill him if you like," he said quietly, "But Khomar has surrendered, and pleads for your mercy. He is weak and cowardly; it is only because of the Guilde he ever made it to the Third Challenge. Sparing his life might be unentertaining to the crowd; however, by our laws, he would then be your vassal in perpetuity."

"Thank you, I am familiar with your cultural norms," said Star-Woman. "We studied them at school. Tell Khomar that when he can pull himself out of his hole, he is welcome to help me prepare for the level-two Challenge."

"That will not be for at least two time-cycles," said Qalraq. "There are no second-level Challengers available at present. In the meantime, do not assume that because he is your sworn vassal, he will not try to assassinate you."

"Thank you, Qalraq."


CHAPTER FOUR
MATTER-EATER LAD TWO vs. ARMONICKA

Armonika was at least seven feet tall, a golden-skinned female Khund cyborg. Her left arm had been fully replaced, and most of the rest of her body enhanced.

Even before the starting gong, Matter-Eater Lad Two had begun excavating a hole in the floor of the Challenge Court. By the time the gong rang, he was gone from view.

Armonicka tramped steadily toward the hole in the ground. Her cybernetic eye scanned the darkness beneath.

Matter-Eater Lad Two quietly broke through the surface of the floor behind her, and rose into the air with his flight belt. In a rapid move, he flew at the Khund from behind, instantly biting off her robotic arm at the shoulder. He hovered near the top of the dome, making a leisurely meal of the rest of the arm.

"Is there any rule against me just eating her weapons?" Matter-Eater Lad Two asked into the air.

"No," came the quiet voice of Qalraq over a loudspeaker.

Matter-Eater Lad Two swooped down like an eagle, taking a bite out of Armonicka's right knee. She fell to the floor.
"Oy! Ptui!" Matter-Eater Lad Two spit out the kneecap. "Organic!"

Black Khundish blood pooled on the superconcrete.

"I yield, I yield," Armonika cried in both Interlac and Khundish.

Shortly thereafter, the six Members, Khomar and Armonika (both well bandaged) sat in the waiting room.

"The cannibal boy will no longer be allowed to participate in the Challenge Courts," Qalraq announced. "Whether he will be able to remain in the territories of the Khundish Empire is currently a matter under discussion."


COSMIC BOY AND POLAR LASS vs. KARHAKK AND DEVYAN

A massive shield composed of metallic weapons stood between the opponents in the center of the challenge court...

"I just remembered something," said Cosmic Boy. "Liquid oxygen is highly magnetic. If you could produce enough, I could use it to infiltrate their cybernetic components. Shut down their mechanisms."

A blinding blast from Karhakk disintegrated the central portion of the shield. Cosmic Boy re-organized the various weapons to form a somewhat smaller shield.

"I'm dropping the temperature on the other side of the court," said Polar Lass. "But it doesn't seem to be affecting them."

"See if you can focus on our opponents themselves," said Cosmic Boy. "Lower their core temperatures. I think that disintegration ray takes a while to charge."

Another blast knocked a hole in the metal shield.

"OK, I admit I was wrong about the disintegration ray," said Cosmic Boy.

"There's your oxygen," said Polar Lass, indicating several pools of blue-white liquid forming on the floor. "Focusing on reducing their core temperatures now."

"That disintegration ray only reduces matter to molecular dust," said Cosmic Boy. "I can still feel the aerosolized iron in the air. Which means I can still use it."

Gray tendrils formed in the air, as more tendrils of blue liquid oxygen rose up from the floor. Writhing tentacles of aerosolized iron and supercooled liquid oxygen attacked the joints of Karhakk and Devyan's suits. Attoprocessers and nanomachines froze and broke. Connections to power sources were severed. The two Khunds collapsed like calving icebergs, their cybernetic components detaching from their bodies, and sliding to the floor...


LIGHTNING LASS vs. DONARAK

Donorak was the first non-cyborg Khund the Members had seen in the arena. He did have a weapon. though: a massive electro-mace, which fired neuro-electric bolts. He was also eerily silent, not boastin gor trash-talking as the other Khunds had. He simply attacked.

The bolts stung. Dacey's mind was getting foggy. She shouldn't be so vulnerable to electrical attacks, she knew, but there was a black fog in her mind, and an ache in her heart, since her telepathic link with Dorrit had been severed.

What would Dorrit want her to do?

The future of the Galaxy was at stake. If they made a good showing at the Challenge Courts, they could get access to whatever council governed the Khunds-- and perhaps convince them to resist the Dominion alliance.

Her sister was on the other side of the Galaxy, working the second part of the plan.

Then there was Chameleon's assignment...

Each part of the plan had so little chance of success. Even all three together seemed unlikely to prevent the Naltoran prophecy. It seemed easier to just give up and go to sleep.

No, Dorrit would want her to fight back. Dacey would want to fight back, if it were not for this cursed neurological numbing. She reached inside herself for the lightning... but couldn't find it.

Stupid.

Donarak himself was providing her with the lightning.

She absorbed the power, took it into her cells, into her mitochondria. She was filled with power. It ached. It hurt. Rather than numb, her neurons were now flaming in pain. It made her angry. She lifted up her head, and saw Donorak through a red haze. He was smiling. Then he was not smiling. Donarak seemed confused, then concerned, then afraid. Then terrified.

Dacey's universe blinked.

She awoke on a cot in the waiting area, surrounded by the other Members.

"Are you all right?" asked Star-Woman. Dacey nodded.

"Did I win or lose?" asked Dacey.

"A draw. You don't advance," said Cosmic Boy. "You both collapsed simultaneously."

Dacey saw that she was holding Donarak's scorched electro-mace. She looked from the mace to the members curiously.

"The judges awarded it to you,' said Cosmic Boy. "Donarak won't be needing it for a while."


KORVEA vs. KRULLIA

Black spheres swarmed the court, rolling, floating. Krullia cursed. One formed into the silhouette of a caped girl. Another into a massive shadow-bird.

Krullia fired at the bird. An illusion. It was replaced by another one of the constantly-moving black spheres. The shadow-girl attacked. Another illusion, but Krullia's weapon had not recharged anyway.

The first thing the infernal Talokan had done was disable Krullia's sensor array. Now she was reliant on her own eight senses, and the Talokan controlled light. One of the black spheres passed closeby, and a fist popped out of it. Krullia staggered. Her opponent was surprisingly strong for such a young girl.

Her weapon re-powered, Krullia fired at the sphere which had just passed-- or was it a different one? No effect. Another illusion.

She was going to lose again. Trapped at Level One in the challenge courts. No, this would be her thirteenth failure. She would be thrown out. There was only one choice.

She feinted, her weapon still recharging. The shadow-spheres swirled, some forming into more silhouettes. Krullia toggled a switch hidden in her shoulder.

A blinding flash. An energy-sphere swept the entire challenge court, reducing to molecular dust anything not protected by the court's powerful force-fields.

"Illegal weapon!" a computerized voice announced. "Match forfeited! Challengers return to neutral stations!"


CHAMELEON

"I am sorry," said Qalraq. "Death in the Challenge Courts is a common occurrence. But cheating is unforgivable... Demon Mother! An untargeted weapon! Krullia will be banned from the Courts for one hundred forty-four time-cycles."

He left the five Members for the evening.

Lightning Lass hefted Donarak's electro-mace. "We keep fighting," she said. "The stakes are unchanged."

"Kylda and I make a good team," said Cosmic Boy. "Unfortunately, Hillarie has been permanently eliminated from competition. These Khundish ethics are unfathomable"

"At least being banned from the Challenge Courts," said Matter-Eater Lad Two, "I will have time to mourn."

"We're not stone-hearted," said Lightning Lass. "But we knew this would be dangerous... if not impossible. We're fighting to prevent Galactic Armageddon. If we fail... Korvea would be dead anyway, and hundreds of billions more."

One of the omnipresent luminous lizard-rodents had been crouching in the corner. Chameleon shape-shifted into his natural form.

"Korvea is dead?" he asked.

"Disintegrated by an illegal Khundish weapon," said Cosmic Boy. "Reduced to molecular dust."

"I wish to report," said Chameleon.

"Go ahead," said Star-Woman.

"I have assumed the forms of various Dominion races," said Chameleon. "and allowed myself to be seen. I encountered a Khund patrol, and was almost captured, but used the High Seer's gift to escape. It is a form of 'joker-gas', although temporary in its effects. I followed the Patrol in rodent-form when they were sent to Hospital, and they recovered in a few hours. But there are now rumors of unauthorized Dominators attacking on Khundia."

"Dacey, Pol, and Kylda will return to the Challenge Courts tomorrow," said Star-Woman.

"I have a question regarding Naltoran premonition," said Chameleon. "We are now in the past, yet the High Seer foresaw that my having need of the 'joker-gas'. Yet if we are ultimately successful, this will not be the timeline in which the High Seer foresaw these things-- or in which I ever met the High Seer. How is this possible?"

"The short answer is," said Star-Woman, "'She is the High Seer, and the rules do not necessarily apply to her.'. A more complex answer is, "'I don't know'."

"I would like to sleep here tonight," said Chameleon. "In unobtrusive glow-rodent form, of course. The streets are a little wild."

"I don't think anyone has any objections," said Star-Woman.

"I have objections," said Matter-Eater Lad Two, "But only to the Universe in general, and the suggestion box appears to be closed. You're welcome to stay here, Cham, until... until the end, I guess."

Chameleon woke the following morning in glow-rodent form. There was a small bird beside him, about his size. Black, with a red crest. Chameleon gave a little rodent gasp.

"As the man said," said the bird, in Korvea's voice, "It appears that the reports of my death are greatly exaggerated."


KORVEA vs. DEATH

"Shelbonites have regenerative powers," said Korvea. She had grown in size substantially over the last half-day, and was nearly a meter tall in her humanoid form. "Although they are not taken lightly. After all, even if you could regenerate, would you cut off your arm on a regular basis? Well, having just learned that, in fact, I can, the answer to that would be 'No'."

"But that weapon reduced you to molecular dust," said Cosmic Boy.

"I know," said Korvea. "I can still feel more than half of myself swarming around in the ventilation system. And I know that those little particulates are faithfully endeavoring to rendezvous with the rest of me. I know it seems weird, but... yeah, it's weird. I'm going to have to have a long talk with my mother when I get home."

"She wasn't dead," Polar Lass was explaining to Matter-Eater Lad Two. "She was just... injured. Like Dacey, only... worse. And they're both getting better."

"But I thought she was dead," said Hillarie. "So did you. We all thought she was dead. And here she is again."

"Well, Qalraq is going to be surprised," said Polar Lass.

"How can you joke about this?" asked Hillarie. "This is Death. We are all in mortal danger, surrounded by crazy Khunds who would kill us without a second thought! Look, I'm having a little bit of a crisis here."

"Hillarie," said Star-Woman, "I thought we all realized that this was most probably a suicide mission. Even if we can prevent the Khund-Dominion attack on the U.P., the Universe as we knew it will no longer exist. The Super-Hero Club-- we will be trapped in Khundish and Dominion space, and no one in the U.P. will know we are here, because another Super-Hero Club will be living happily-ever-after on Mars. Because the war will have never happened. We certainly can't return to where we came from, because... because that time-line will not exist anymore."

"I guess I knew that," said Hillarie. "Or most of it. I just... I guess I didn't want to think about it."

"I imagine," interjected Chameleon, "It is too much to expect that when this is all over, we can find some nice, peaceful world in the the Khund Empire, and live out our lives in quiet anonymity."

Star-Woman shook her head.

"Now I'm having a crisis," said Polar Lass.

[/u]CHAPTER FIVE[/u]
MEANWHILE"?

Elia, The Dominion Homeworld

"A child among children,"mused the Dominator Overlord. "Yet a Coluan. Reasonably intelligent, especially compared to these pathetic monkeys you have brought with you."

Saturn Girl sat staring, blank-eyed, nearly comatose. Ffiona sat beside her, in singlet form. Ten faced the Overlord alone.

"Dorrit Ranzz is a powerful telepath," Ten explained. "But has suffered psychic trauma from our journey into the past. My other companion is finding Elia's environment inimical to her physiology."

"You all seem a poor choice for a mission to hostile territories,"said the Dominator.

"We were the only choice," said Ten. "In the future, your Doomsday Weapon was very effective. The United Planets has been reduced to a collection of dead and near-dead worlds. It would, however, be in your best interests not to employ it. Your scientists made an error in their calculations. The Last Plague has spread out into Khundish Space. It will even spread back into the Dominions, eventually."

"You are not being entirely forthcoming,"said the Dominator. "We have analyzed your chronal signature, and you have not come from far enough in the future for the United Planets to have experienced the full effects of Microbe Alpha. There is an incubation period, you see. It has been well tested, despite your libels of our scientists."

"If you know our temporal origins, then you know our spatial origins as well," said Ten.

"Yes, the Time Institute on New Titan," said the Dominator.

"Which is in the Naltoran system," said Ten.

"Ah, the Prophecy Planet," said the Dominator. "You claim to have seen the end from the beginning. Still, the Microbe Alpha vaccine has been well-tested, and distributed to the populations of the Dominions. I suppose that we could make it known to the United Planets, and offer to provide it to them at a high price, but"? sadly, we have used up all our stores, and there is no time to make more before"? your time." The Dominator smiled, showing his sharp, pointed teeth. But then, the Dominators were always smiling. "It is a shame your mission to the past has been a failure. Now, where are your other companions?"

"It is only the three of us," said Ffiona.

"I think not," said the Dominator. "Our sensors clearly indicated the extra-temporal appearance of five individuals."

"We are Cargggan," Ffiona explained, separating. Ffiona, Ffarrah, and Ffey breathed an almost-hidden sigh of relief.

"Interesting," said the Dominator. "Yet again, why only you? Terran children, and a Coluan infant."

"Again, we werre all who were available," said Ten. "Even as we departed, New Titan and Naltor were being destroyed."

"Ah," said the Dominator. "Success."

REPORT

The message appeared out of thin air, written on some sort of parchment. Written in Old Bgztlr, but with Yoddish characters.

Very few in the Galaxy could have read it, aside from Ten and Phantom Girl.

"As suspected, the Dominion's sensors are unable to penetrate the Phantom Zone. In addition, Eulia has found a size below which the sensors simply ignore her.

The Doomsday Sphere is being constructed in the Southern Hemisphere. Completion is expected within ten days. I will attempt to infiltrate the station. I will need to hitch a ride on one of the Dominion shuttles-- it is too far for me to travel within the Phantom Zone without getting lost.

There seems to be unanimity among the Dominion counselors regarding this operation. I do not believe we will be able to sow doubt or discord there."

Ten attempted to relay the information telepathically to Saturn Girl.

"{I am much recovered from the trauma of Dacey 's absence from my mind,"} Saturn Girl responded. "{I have been feigning a continued comatose condition to search for additional intelligence which might assist us in finding a way to thwart the Dominion. It is difficult, as there are numerous telepathic sensors in the more secure areas.
"When you told the Dominator that in our future, the Dominion is infected with what they call the "?Alpha Microbe ', he immediately discounted it. However, I note that he was unsurprised when you informed him the Microbe had spread to Khundish Space. It may have been a prevarication on your part, but you may have been accidentally correct}."

A Dominion Brute, the red dot on his forehead a mere pinpoint, arrived with a trays of food.

"They said Coluans just eat this paste," he said, placing a tube before Ten. "They said you should tell me if it 's the wrong kind for your age." He placed three trays before the Triplicates. "Us Dominators are good at vegetables," he explained. "This is real Earth-like food. They said you should tell me if you want something different."

"Roasted eggplant would be nice," said Ffarrah.

"Soy, spinach, carrots, onions, and garlic," said Ffey.

"The fruit of the Terran Solanum Melongena," Ten translated... "Glycine Max, as a bean or curd, Spinacia Oleracea, Daucus Carota Sativus, any color, some variety of Allium Cepa and Allium Sativum."

"OK", said the Brute. He laid out a fourth tray. "This is gruel and pudding you can feed the sick one." He indicated Saturn Girl. "They said it would be good for her."

"You seem to be treating us well," said Ten. "For prisoners of war."

The Brute's smile broadened. It was not a pleasant sight. "They like to breed exo-Elians," he laughed. "To study the ones with Powers. There is a big Khund they are saving for the Cargggans. One of them might even live through it." The Brute looked at Ten. "They say Coluans have long lives. You will be here a long time. They like to study the smart ones."

"You seem to know a great deal about Terran food, for someone who only eats Nutritive Paste," Ffiona told Ten.

"I know a great deal about a great many things," said Ten.

"{Ffiona, Ffarrah, and Ffey," said Saturn Girl. {I would not worry about the threats to experiment on us. I believe we will be leaving soon. I have a plan.}"

CHAPTER SIX
STAR-WOMAN VS. KARKYN

Karkyn hit her hard and fast, shattering the isolated asteroid on which their battle had been appointed. They were outside the Challenge Courts, in interplanetary Khund space. Level One.

Kallor was stunned, disoriented and confused. This Khund was strong-- as strong as a Daxamite.

With Donarak's electro-mace, Dacey was essentially unbeatable back on the Khundish homeworld, working her way slowly through various challengers. Korvea and Matter-Eater Lad Two had been banned from the Courts, branded as "zombie" and "cannibal", respectively. They had been allowed to freely wander the city outside the Courts, and were treated with respect by the local populace, or possibly simple fear. Meal vendors were generous to Korvea, and they both had been approached to join an Assassin's Guild.

Cosmic Boy and Polar Lass had faced a Khund who controlled fire. His powers had stunted Cosmic Boy's magnetism, and had explosively ignited the liquid oxygen Polar Lass was producing. All three were in hospital, severely injured.

Chameleon had not been heard from for days.

Their plan had been to gain sufficient cachet to be able to contact and convince one of the Khundish leaders. It had seemed doomed. Then Kallor had received a challenge from the Khundish Planetary Champion: Karkyn, who had been following her exploits. Her hopes revived: here was the chance they had been waiting for.

Now she floated in the rubble of the fractured asteroid, as Karkyn delivered crushing blow after crushing blow. She felt her consciousness begin to slip away.

She hoped that Group B was having success on Elia. She doubted that she would survive this confrontation.

Karkyn was clearly more powerful than her.

Or was he?

Yes, he was very strong, but so was she. He was nowhere near as fast-- he had not exhibited even a fraction of lightspeed.

And she was more versatile than him, she was sure of it. She ran through the litany of her powers? and found she couldn?t quite remember them all.

Telepathic, she thought to herself. He's telepathic-- broadcasting despair and confusion at me.? She tried to take a swing at Karkyn, but he easily dodged. I'm faster than this, she thought. Much faster. Much, much faster.

She flew up from the midst of the debris, as fast as she could manage, careening off the ultra-strong force shield that surrounded their asteroid arena. Outside hovered the field generators and the cameras recording their battle. She began to fly in a circle just within the field, as fast as she could manage. Her head began to clear. She began to fly in random, twisting patterns, at a substantial portion of the speed of light. Occasionally she would approach Karkyn, and hit him with a smashing blow, or toss off a gout of fire-breath, or a blast of lightning-vision. As her mind cleared, she could see where he would be moving, a moment into the future.
Kallor realized Karkyn didn't stand a chance.

But she needed him to surrender. She didn't want to kill him.

She focused her mass-inducing abilities on her opponent, then on the shattered asteroid. The asteroid pulled itself together, with Karkyn at the center. Gravity began increasing, to Earth-normal, then Jupiter-normal, then beyond.

The cameras and field generators were having difficulty maintaining stable orbits, as the continual need to make small course corrections was overloading their processors.

Kallor was now standing on the re-formed asteroid, her flight powers fighting the now-massive gravitational force. A hologram appeared before her.

"Karkyn has yielded," announced Qalraq's hologram. "He requests that you free him before he is crushed within a gravitational singularity."

===========================================================================

"You United Planets types never understand. The Empire is not a monolith," Karkyn was explaining. "This is why you repeatedly fail at diplomatic negotiations. No one Khund can speak for all."

Star-Woman, Lightning Lass, Korvea and Matter-Eater Lad Two had been welcomed aboard his ship. It was, by the measure of any United Planets civilization, grand and impressive.

"I can put my resources at your service," said Karkyn. "There are perhaps a million Khunds who are under my protection, and owe me fealty. And I am aware of the faction cooperating with the Dominators. I disagree with their goals, and with the risks they are taking. But what can I do? How can I move against them, when they have the strength of the Dominionators behind them?"

"We want to destroy one ship," said Kallor. "Within the next few days, it will move from the Dominion Homeworld to the planet Daxam, in United Planets space. We need to intercept it, and destroy it."

"You? Alone?" asked Karkyn. "How large a ship is this?"

"About the size of a small moon," said Kallor.

"I may owe you my life," said Karkyn. "But this is a fool's errand."

"Then lend us-- give us-- a small cloaked ship, and access to your star-maps, and let us make the journey to Elia ourselves."

"Just the four of you, against the Dominion?" asked Karkyn.

"There may be as many as seven," said Kallor.

CHAPTER SEVEN
SABOTAGE, ESPIONAGE, AND RESTORATION

"We have analyzed your Vesta," said the Overlord. "As you indicated, there were no weapons or espionage software per se onboard. We did find an emergency alert transmitter to Colu, but that was easily disabled. The force-shield, micro-ray, and microversal ampulle, while not technically weapons, would certainly have come in handy for you. Unfortunately, we cannot return them. We are unable to reassemble it. But I am impressed by Coluan engineering."

"We have been straightforward," said Ten. "As I first told you."

"I am skeptical," said the Overlord. "Why would you bring a Cargggan on a mission to the Dominion?"

"We are no ordinary Cargggans," boasted Ffiona. "We are of exceptional intelligence."

"Well, one of us is," said Ffarrah.

"I have exceptional emotional intelligence, too," noted Ffey.

"So the Coluan child has brought his clever, trained pets with him," said the Overlord.

"As I have explained," said Ten, "There were no other options. There was a crisis. We were available. There was no one else."

"Or perhaps," said the Overlord, "They are here to disguise your numbers. We have been experiencing minor, yet inexplicable failures in some of our control systems. We might almost suspect sabotage. Perhaps one or two invisible spies have accompanied you? Yes, we know all about how Norgine effects Terran physiology. The Dominion are adept exo-biologists."

"I am sorry for the failures in your control systems," said Ten. "Perhaps you should delay your attack?"

"We would very much like to watch a Coluan grow up," said the Overlord. "But you are of no use in our breeding programmes. Coluan genetic material is over-complex-- sixteen base pairs? Overdone, if you ask me. Perhaps the satisfaction of curiosity in watching you grow up in captivity would not be worth the trouble."

"You are threatening me," said Ten.

"Yes," said the Overlord. "Your cooperation might change my mind."

"I am cooperating as fully as possible," said Ten. "If only I could convince you that the Microbe A project is a bad idea. What will you do with thousands of dead worlds?"

The Overlord's permanent smile broadened.

"You have not seen far enough into the future," he said.

==============================================================================

"{I have a lock on his mind,}" said Saturn Girl. "{He is meeting with his advisory group now. Oh! A trojan horse within a trojan horse! The plan is, after wiping out the living populations of the U.P. worlds, Microbe A will further mutate into Microbe B-- which will use the resources of the dead biomass to terraform-- eliaform-- those worlds into more perfectly suitable environments for Dominator colonization. Unfortunately, the Dominion scientists have been unable to perfectly verify this result. There is a 50/50 chance that United Planets Space will be a dead sector... And we were correct. The Dominion has already infected several of the Khundish homeworlds with Microbe A. It will begin spreading even before the UP worlds are affected... Oh}!" Saturn Girl shot up from her affected coma. "Dacey is here!" she cried out loud.

==============================================================================

The tiny cloaked ship dropped out of Otherspace on the opposite side of the Dominator's homeworld's primary. As they came out from behind the star, Elia appeared on the viewscreen. From certain angles, it was a beautiful world, with a rainbow-hued ring system. From others, the fragments of the giant, cracked moon-- actually, once Elia's twin-- could be seen, the remnant of the Great War.

The Doomsday Sphere could also be seen in orbit. A thousand kilometers in diameter, it appeared, from all external evidence, to be complete.

"Dorrit says that they have had no more luck dissuading the Dominion than we have had in inflaming the Khunds," said Dacey. "Irinia and Eulia are on the Sphere, and have been doing some minor sabotage, but they are near being detected by the Dominators."

"We should have just gone to Weber's World and warned UPGov," said Polar Lass.

"Still possible," said Star-Woman. "If we can rescue Group B, Ten might be able to convert this Khundish ship into a Timevessel."

Kallor was thinking. The Khund ship had nowhere near the firepower needed to take on the Doomsday Sphere. Even assuming only moderate defenses would mean thousands of ships, each as powerful as this one. On the other hand, she, herself, could do substantial damage. She could punch a hole from pole to pole, right through the center-- possibly destroying the energy core. The Star-Rod could do additional damage. How many times could she puncture the Sphere before they found a weapon powerful enough to stop her? She might even be able to incapacitate the entire construct.

"Go get Dorrit, the Triplicates and Ten," Star-Woman instructed her companions. "Go in guns blazing, if you have to. Have Saturn Girl get a telepathic message out to Phantom Girl and Shrinking Violet, wherever they are. Have the two retreat to the Phantom Zone, then rendezvous with our ship. I have something to do." Star-Woman prepared to leave the ship.

=============================================================================

"Dacey, Kallor, Hillarie, and Korvea are on a borrowed Khundish ship," Saturn Girl reported. "Pol and Kylda are with them, but badly injured. Chameleon is lost somewhere on Khundia, his condition unknown. Dacey but she says they are coming for us. I don't know their chances of success. Kallor wants us to rendezvous with Eulia and Irinia."

The Overlord stormed into their cell, accompanied by another of his Brutes. Or was it the same one?

"You violated my mind!" he snarled. "For that, you will die before your home worlds do." Saturn Girl's eyes narrowed. On the far wall, a psionic image appeared. The Overlord, with his advisors.

"The ship is now crewed entirely with Dominion Brutes and Khundish Scientists," one advisor reported. "Both are completely expendable to their respective civilizations. As our territory expands, we rid ourselves of unwanted chaff. It is an admirable irony."

"Our agents report that infected Khund agents have reached their homeworlds," said a second. "The devastation will not be so great as in the cursed United Planets, but the Empire will be severely weakened, and ripe for conquest, once the Microbe mutates."

"This is also being broadcast throughout the Doomsday Sphere," said Saturn Girl. "It has my psychic signature on it, so that no one can doubt that it is real. Chaos will soon be erupting on your station."

"Foolish human," sneered the Overlord. "The crews of the Doomsday Sphere have already accepted a known suicide mission. They know their place in their respective societies. They are, to a soul, ready to sacrifice their lives for the greater good of their homeworlds. But you have proven a nuisance, so the time has come to be rid of you." He withdrew a communications device from his robe. "Engage temporal restoration," he ordered.

"You see," the Overlord explained, "We have completed analysis of your time-signatures, and we are sending you home."

The Brute snatched Ffiona in one massive hand. "Can't I keep this one?" he asked.

The Overlord gave no answer, as the prisoners vanished into thin air.

=============================================================================

They were on Mars.

Star-Woman, Lightning Lass, Korvea, and Matter-Eater Lad Two appeared in one group. Cosmic Boy and Lightning Lass materialized supine nearby, They appeared without the Khundish healing devices to which they had been attached.

On the other side of the Clubhouse, Saturn Girl, Ten, Ffarrah, Ffey, and Ffiona appeared.

"That monster broke my arm," Ffiona whimpered.

"We seem to have lost Phantom Girl and Shrinking Violet," Kallor said to Saturn Girl. "Can you sense any trace of them telepathically?"

"Yes, they... no, look!" Saturn Girl pointed up into the sky. The Ranzz runabout and Kallor's space-van were hurtling towards the stratosphere.

"On their way to Naltor," said Kallor. "Well, we know what time it is, anyway."

"We are only hours away from the Daxamite Wave," said Saturn Girl.

"And ten days away from the Plague," said Kallor.

"Something is wrong," said Ten. He wiped his nose. He looked startled at the green-black blood on his hand. Ten vomited. The same green-black blood was coloring his tear ducts, ears, and nose.

"They must have infected us while we were imprisoned on Elia," said Saturn Girl. "We need to quarantine ourselves," she told the Triplicates. "Keep back," she told the others.

But Star-Woman was already moving. She lifted Ten up in her arms, and sped at ultrasonic speed to the hospital at Nix Olympica. She explained the coming plague, instructing them to place Ten in a sterile, isolated environment. Black, necrotic patches were already forming on Ten's skin.

Star-Woman looked down at her own hands, the blackening patches spreading over her own skin.

=============================================================================

Klar, hi there,

It's really great to have you back with us as I've really missed your stories.

This is turning really dark, which givea a great counterpoint to the sometimes naive and positive outlook of your characters.

Great point about the Khunds - they are not a unified people so diplomacy with them is virtually impossible - I may have to steal that idea as it is really great.

The Dominion infecting the group before sending them away was expected, though I didn't think you would have it hit so quickly - gulp! Hope Ten can be saved as he's possibly my favourite.

Your characters are really in keeping with earlier versions of the Legion and I really admire the respect you give them such love in their attempts to tackle galactic problems. Certainly, their parents/predecessors wouldn't have tackled anything this huge at the same stage of their development.

You'd think after the last couple of years we'd have had enough of pandemics and rising death numbers, but I'm totally hooked and looking forward to more, more, more!

CHAPTER EIGHT
DESTINY

Hillarie Norgay of Bismoll, who called himself Matter-Eater Lad Two, was overwhelmed.

They had gone up on the Clubhouse roof, and gotten down Kappa-Omicron-II, Ten's stainless steel monkey-bot. They had managed to get it to set up isolated medical recuperation rooms in the staterooms of the converted starship / clubhouse. Matter-Eater Lad Two had sent the little robot in to tend to Polar Lass and Cosmic Boy, both badly burned, while Lightning Lass was looking after Saturn Girl and the Triplicates, who were all already developing signs of the Dominion Plague.

Hillarie had hoped for a rapid response from the paramedics in New Metropolis, but the Daxamite Wave had begun, and all of Mars was on Planetary Alert. They had not heard from Kallor Nal or Txarlz since she had flown him off to the hospital at Nix Olympica.

His mind wandered for a moment, wondering about Eulia and Irinia, lost somewhere in Dominion space, and Chameleon, left behind on the Khund homeworld. They had not returned when the Dominators had "snapped' the rest of the Super-Hero Club back to the future.

Korvea was in the communication room, and had been trying for hours to get in touch with Talok VIII, but there was some sort of interference on all sub-etheric communications. There was no way of knowing if this was part of the Dominion invasion, or something else.

Matter-Eater Lad Two coughed up a few specks of blood. They burned his skin. "Not already," he said aloud to himself. He checked the cameras Kappa-Omicron-II had set up in the room holding Saturn Girl and the Triplicates. They appeared to be sleeping, but there were small patches of black on their faces. Lightning Lass was slumped over a console, an agonized expression on her face. Passed out? Sleeping? Nightmares?

He ran to the front of the Clubhouse, where the communications center was located. The room was empty. Korvea had probably returned to her quarters. There were patches of blue-black stain on the floor. Talokan blood.

He had to see Polar Lass, one more time. She was resting supine in her quarters, with improvised healing devices he and the monkey-bot had cobbled together from Ten's lab. The room was impossibly hot, and Hillarie hesitated to enter. First, he ran to his own quarters, and got the cooling belt Kylda's parents had given him at the Herringbone celebration. By the time he got back to Kylda, he was breathing hard, and feeling dizzy.

Polar Lass was now obviously suffering from Plague as well. The disease progressed with astonishing rapidity. Spots danced before Matter-Eater Lad Two's eyes. It had probably been a bad idea to run around the clubhouse. He retched again. He felt his cold fusion digestive system shutting down-- a vital evolutionary protection in Bismollians before serious illness. Or death.

===============================================================================

MUSICAL INTERLUDE

NO!

{accordion music}

There's a war going on
Out there somewhere
And Chameleon isnit here
There's a war going on
Out there somewhere
And Chameleon isn?t here

There's a war going on
Out there somewhere
And Chameleon isn't here
There's a war going on
Out there somewhere
And Chameleon isn't here

And this is all in your program
It's a comic book space opera
Gonna have to study up a little bit
If you wanna keep with the plot
Cause it's a complicated hundred chapters
With a whole lot of different names
So look it up in your program
We'd appreciate it, thanks a lot
Da da da
Da da da
Da da da...

Dorrit!

Dorrit is a telepath
Daughter of Garth and Imra Ranzz

Daughter of Garth and Imra Ranzz
Dorrit is a telepath
And Chameleon isn't here

Dacey has lightning
Dorrit's sister: they share a metatelepathic mind-link

They share a metatelepathic mind-link
Dacey has lightning
Dorrit is a telepath
And Chameleon is?t here

Pol is magnetic, son of Rokk and Lydda Krinn
He?s had a secret crush on Dacey for years

A secret crush
Pol is magnetic
Dacey has lightning
Dorrit is a telepath
And Chameleon isn't here

And this is all in your program
It's a comic book space opera
Gonna have to study up a little bit
If you wanna keep with the plot
Cause it's a complicated hundred chapters
With a whole lot of different names
So look it up in your program
We'd appreciate it, thanks a lot
Da da da
Da da da
Da da da...

Ffiona, Ffarrah and Ffey Ffarr!

Cargggan girls who live apart
In love with Chameleon, but it's complicated.

It's complicated!
Cargggan girls who live apart
Pol is magnetic
Dacey has lightning
Dorrit is a telepath
And Chameleon isn't here

Txarlz is smart
A prepubescent Coluan boy

A prepubescent Coluan boy
Txarlz is smart
Cargggan girls who live apart
Pol is magnetic
Dacey has lightning
Dorrit is a telepath
And Chameleon isn't here

Kallor is powerful, Daxamite class
Daughter of Nura Nal, the High Seer

Daughter of Nura and Thom
Kallor is powerful
Txarlz is smart
Cargggan girls who live apart
Pol is magnetic
Dacey has lightning
Dorrit is a telepath
And Chameleon isn't here

Time travel and paradoxes, the war can't touch us here

More characters!

Hillarie EATS ANYTHING

And Kylda is always cold

They're in a star-crossed romance

And Korvea's just for fun!

Korvea's just for fun!
Korvea is fun
Hillarie EATS ANYTHING
Kylda is cold
Kallor is powerful
Txarlz is smart
Cargggan girls who live apart
Pol is magnetic
Dacey has lightning
Dorrit is a telepath
And Chameleon isn't here

And what about Irinia?
Trapped in the Phantom Zone?
What about Eulia?
Tiny and abandoned in the Phantom Zone?
What about Eulia?
What about Irinia?
What about Irinia and Eulia?


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4D19-1l1EQ

===============================================================================

Meanwhile... Somewhere near Dominion Space

Phantom Girl and Shrinking Violet floated in the Phantom Zone. The Dominator's Temporal Restorator had not reached here. Across the dimensions, they were onboard the Doomsday Sphere, but did not dare come out into the solid world. There were too many Khundish scientists and Dominion Brutes roaming the corridors now.

By eavesdropping, they had learned of the disappearance of the rest of the Members. The empty Khundish cloaked ship had been located and destroyed. It was now just the two of them.

A few days before, they had still been attempting sabotage. There had been a small explosion, and a few microdroplets of green gas had grazed Shrinking Violet, turning her left hand, and a patch on the left side of her face, a leprous white. Phantom Girl had snatched her companion back into the Zone, but Eulia was now stuck at five inches high. She seemed incapable of changing size while in the Zone. Shrinking Violet's fingernails on the affected hand had turned dark. Shrinking Violet's mind seemed unaffected by the modified joker-gas. For now.



The Sphere had now begun its journey to U.P. space, accelerating at sub-light speeds toward a portal on the edge of the Elian system.

"I'm not sure I can keep us in phase with the ship when it crosses into Hyperspace," said Phantom Girl.

"If we could find a Central Control, we still might be able to stop all this," said Shrinking Violet. "But this bastardized Khund-Dominion tech is beyond my understanding."

"The Central Control may be back on Elia," said Phantom Girl. "But let's continue..."

The ship vanished around them. The two Members were alone, just outside the Hyperspace portal.

"Back to the Dominion Homeworld, then," said Shrinking Violet.

"I'm not sure I know the way," said Phantom Girl.

Then there was a third personage in the Phantom Zone.

"Little children," the figure was clothed in a tattered robe, with a deep cowl hiding his face. "You are unhappy with your Destiny. You have sought to change it. But Destiny is not so easily changed as that."

Shrinking Violet gasped when she saw the figure. "The Time Trapper?" she exclaimed.

The robed figure drew back his hood. It was the face of an old man. "Fortune smiles upon you," he said. "I am not the Time Trapper, but Destiny of the Endless."

Phantom Girl and the tiny Shrinking Violet stood silent.

"Destiny, of the Endless," Destiny repeated. He consulted the huge, worn book bound with chains to his waist. "Ah, I see. You have never heard of me. Well, I am the embodiment of Destiny. A... an anthropomorphic personification, as it were. Since before the beginning of time, I have been reading this book, which contains all that has ever happened, all that ever will happen, anywhere, in the past, the present, or the future. This is what you and your companions have tried to change. Do not be discouraged that your efforts have proven futile."

"But thousands of trillions of sentient beings will die!" cried Phantom Girl.

"I have seen thousands of trillions of stars die," said Destiny. "And that since your last birthday,"

"But there must be a way to change the future?" asked Phantom Girl. "The 'destiny' of the United Planets, at least. Of course... otherwise, why would you be here?"

"There is a way. It is not easy. And there is a cost." said Destiny.

"Anything," said Phantom Girl.

"That is precisely the cost," said Destiny. "Anything. Everything."

A second Book of Destiny, trailing chains, appeared in the airless atmosphere of the Phantom Zone.

"Bind yourself to this book," said Destiny. "Take upon yourself my role, with this new history of a new Universe. You will become the Destiny of this Universe. You will read every word of the Book of Destiny, from the first to the last. It is not so bad. There are pictures."

"And what is the use of a book," said Phantom Girl, "without pictures or conversations?"

Destiny looked at her oddly. "There are other considerations. Your friends are now at peace. Bring them back, and the Super-Hero Club will face trials and challenges you have not hitherto imagined."

Phantom Girl, without hesitation, bound the chains of the Book of Destiny about her waist. She opened the book. The pages glowed faintly in the purple-gray darkness of the Zone.

"But these pages are blank!" said Phantom Girl.

"Precisely," said Destiny. "Begin reading."

A single word appeared at the top of the first page. Shrinking Violet read over Phantom Girl's shoulder.

"Yehior?" read Shrinking Violet. "But what does it mean?"

But Phantom Girl was already turning pages, past text and illustrations. Her short blonde hair grew long, then gray, then white. Her dark face became lined with age. Her 'Phantom Girl' cape enlarged and grew, becoming a paler version of the other Destiny's robe. She lifted the hood up over her head.

"But observe," said Destiny-- the first Destiny. "Already she had read through the history of fourteen gigaannum. She is now coming to a page that will interest you."

The three read the new Book of Destiny together. Phantom Girl turned a page, and there was a strange illustration.

"It looks like a cross between a sea anemone and a green salad," said Shrinking Violet.

"It is the Dominator's Time Restorator," said Destiny. "If someone were to sabotage it..." He picked up the tiny Shrinking Violet, and dropped her into the page.

Shrinking Violet tore at the interior of the Time Restorator with both hands. Her right hand nut-brown, her left hand chalk-white, with green nails. Sparks crackled, fumes filled the chamber. The machine was clearly malfunctioning.

"The beginning of a new Destiny," thought Shrinking Violet, "But the end of me.

A white-gloved hand reached through the wall of the Time Restorator, grabbed Shrinking Violet, and drew her out. They were in some sort of Dominion control room. The Time Restorator did not look well.

"Back to the Phantom Zone," said Phantom Girl. "Guards are coming,"

"But how are you here?" asked Shrinking Violet. "Didn't we..."

"Do you think I would abandon you?" asked Phantom Girl.

"But you were..." said Shrinking Violet. But she had forgotten what she was going to say.

CHAPTER NINE
DISASTER

"You see," the Overlord explained, "We have completed analysis of your time-signatures, and we are sending you home."

The Brute snatched Ffiona in one massive hand. "Can't I keep this one"? he asked.

The Overlord was startled, as the prisoners failed to vanish into thin air.

"Temporal Control!" he hissed into his communication device. "What is the problem?" He turned to the Brute. "Put that creature down, and come with me." He exited in haste. "Nothing can ever be easy," he muttered under his breath.

"That monster broke my arm," Ffiona whimpered.

There was enough loose material in the room-- or material that could be loosened-- to wrap Ffiona's arm in a splint.

"I?m going to give you a hypnotic suggestion," said Saturn Girl. "It will ease the pain."

"Something is wrong," said Ten. He coughed, and wiped his nose. He looked startled at the green-black blood on his hand. Ten vomited. The same green-black blood was coloring his tear ducts, ears, and nose.

"The Overlord infected us!" Saturn Girl cried out. "And he was going to send us back to the future-- back into United Planets space." She fumed. "The Dominators are all monsters."

============================================================================

The trip through the Doomsday Sphere had been harder than Kallor had expected. There had been plenty of defenses prepared, and she had not yet come across a central power station. It must have been placed somewhere off-center. She shook her head to clear the cobwebs. It was just her and the Doomsday Sphere now. She had no idea of the status of her comrades.

There was some sort of malfunction. An intense beam of radiation shot out from the central deflector towards the Dominator's stellar primary. Had she caused this? This was the ray that had turned Daxam's red sun yellow. But the Dominion primary was a blue-white giant. The effect...

The effect would be evident in minutes. A three-hundred-mile-wide column of energy towered above the central deflector. If Kallor could disable that... perhaps the damage could be... well, a little less.

=============================================================================

The Khund ship uncloaked, as it took a direct hit. All systems shut down, including life-support.

"It's been a good run," said Matter-Eater Lad Two to Korvea. "See you on the other side?"

A giant ship loomed over them. A tractor beam dragged the little ship onboard.

"I am a fool," said Karkyn. "And the members of my crew who stayed are fools with me."

"We need to rescue our friends," said Dacey. Korvea nodded in agreement.

"We need," said Karkyn, "To get to the night side of this planet. It is the one possible safe place. Have you ever seen a supernova up close? Neither have I. This is our opportunity."

Karkyn indicated the injured Polar Lass and Cosmic Boy. "Get these two to the medical bay," he ordered his crew. "Give them all appropriate care. We await Kallor Nah. Beyond all expectation, our enemies, it appears, are about to be defeated."

The Dominion primary detonated. The Doomsday Sphere was atomized in the explosion, as was the sunward half of Elia. From Karkyn's ship, they saw the jagged fragments of Elia's ring light up like suns.

==============================================================================

Phantom Girl and Shrinking Violet, hiding in the Phantom Zone, saw the supernova on the flowery Dominion monitors as they ghosted through the corridors of the Citadel. It was accompanied by a tremendous earthquake.

"We must be on the night side of Elia," said Shrinking Violet.

"Why do you say that"? said Phantom Girl.

"Because we are not looking at a pool of molten slag."

"That flare destroyed the Doomsday Sphere," said Phantom Girl. "Which side of the planet do you think Saturn Girl, Ten, and the Triplicates were on?"

"If you remember," said Shrinking Violet, "We left them on the sunward side a few hours ago. We checked in with them at dawn. But maybe Kallor's group managed to rescue them? Our friends may have survived. As well as the United Planets."

"But at what cost? Billions of Dominators' lives?" said Phantom Girl. "We are complicit in those deaths!"

"Billions of Dominators will die," said Shrinking Violet, "But hundreds of trillions in the United Planets will be saved."

"This is not some Trolley Problem," said Phantom Girl, her voice choking. "This is not what I signed up for."

"No, you are right, this is not super-heroing," said Shrinking Violet. "It is war. And in war, there are winners and losers. And death. Death and Destruction immeasurable."

=============================================================================
THE NEXT WAR
-- Wilfred Owen

War's a joke for me and you,
While we know such dreams are true.
- Siegfried Sassoon

Out there, we've walked quite friendly up to Death,
Sat down and eaten with him, cool and bland,
Pardoned his spilling mess-tins in our hand.
We've sniffed the green thick odour of his breath,
Our eyes wept, but our courage didn't writhe.
He's spat at us with bullets and he's coughed
Shrapnel. We chorussed when he sang aloft,
We whistled while he shaved us with his scythe.

Oh, Death was never enemy of ours!
We laughed at him, we leagued with him, old chum.
No soldier's paid to kick against His powers.
We laughed, -knowing that better men would come,
And greater wars: when each proud fighter brags
He wars on Death, for lives; not men, for flags.

=============================================================================