Long Live the Legion

          Sometimes hero work was a lot more troublesome than the Coluan wanted to believe it to be. Being that the Legion had less muscle to back up it’s credibility, and with Lar Gand occupied with other more important matters at the moment, Querl was left to run things with all six appendages full. Rarely did they find curiosity or excitement in this busy work, they’d seen so much of this small portion of the old Earth that most problems were pretty predictable by their programming’s standards... That is until a Tamaranian showed up to their doorstep. One that was familiar in the historical holograms of the Hall of Heroes back in the time of the true Legion, one that had ancestors that were probably still running the named planet (or some form of it) within the United Planets.

He didn’t miss it, that hint of something like accomplishment in the other’s eyes. Miguel took note of that in a way he wouldn’t have years ago. For most of his adult life, he’d cared far more about coming out on top than he had about anyone’s feelings or insecurities, but… the lab accident that left him the way he was changed that. (It changed everything.) It was hard not to care about people when you spent most of your time trying to save them, he figured. It was hard not to want something a little more for them. “Yours especially so,” he agreed with a small smile.

But even so… there were pieces missing. Miguel had been fighting Alchemax tooth and nail long enough to know exactly who was to blame for that. It wasn’t impressive, as one might assume it was. When someone was born on third base, it didn’t come as a surprise when they managed to score a home run, after all. He could do something to fill in those gaps, even if it wasn’t much. Even if it might not matter much in the end. Maybe that was the thing to focus on here.

So he watched Querl add the information, nodded to himself, pretended it left him with some sense of accomplishment, acted like it lessened that pit in his stomach that dug itself deeper any time he was reminded about the empire his father built. He offered them a smile that wasn’t quite genuine but wasn’t quite forced, either. Like Miguel himself, the expression existed somewhere between the two. “A lot of people will give you a lot of different answers for what makes a hero,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t know what my answer would be. ‘Nothing I’ve got,’ probably.” Miguel had met enough heroes to know he wasn’t one of them.

          Even if they were from different futures, or rather different placements in a possible future, the company was welcomed with open arms and open files. Querl could only assume the other would have no clue as to how valuable the information they’d been given could be, even if the current time they were on was heading in an entirely different direction. It was a tricky science, one that he had once figured out in the technology marvel of the Time Bubble that now sat broken in a heap in the back of their lab, one that they weren’t entirely sure they could or should chart at the moment. This was a question to ponder for later.           Double and triple checking their new entries, the purple-tinted holograms slowly blinked out of the air, closing green fingers over the embedded disks in their palms. “I’m sure I’ll receive enough conflicting information to decipher the facts.” It wasn’t assurance, but... An observation. It’s something that had happened plenty of times before, deciphering fact from fiction through programs meant to pick apart stories and tall-tales. Nothing got past their pre-coded logic, nothing whatsoever... 

They wanted to be useful. It was clear in the way they jumped at Simon’s suggestion for something to do, obvious in their excitement at the notion of being more than a stationary piece in the midst of the chaos. Simon understood it, of course, felt it himself far more than he’d like to admit. He’d always done better when he was moving, always felt better when he had a task of some sort to accomplish, and this? This would give them both something. Something small, maybe, but… the small stuff was important, too. It wasn’t all world-saving heroics. Sometimes, it was just keeping individual people a little bit safer.

Offering them a smile, Simon nodded. “We’ll kick this thing’s ass,” he said, hoping they might find some comfort in his confidence. Jessica did, sometimes. Gesturing for them to follow, he made his way back towards the fallen streetlamp, humming as he stopped in front of it. “Shouldn’t be too hard to get it upright between the two of us. How do you want to do this?”

          Field work. Oh, how the many others would find humor at the idea. In truth, it was... Thrilling. The Coluan found the smile on their face both reflexive and reactive, trying to mask the twist of coldness they felt taking over their fingers, reacting to the flush of what could only be described as excitement. Silently, he wondered how in the world these Earth Humanoids could handle all these emotions on a daily basis, let alone just the complex meld he was attempting to understand now. The theorizing would wait for another day, another time... Perhaps never to be truly answered, having pondered the same question for years, decades-

“Guess that’s fair enough.” It seemed to be the only constant, the only thing that remained the same throughout. The world changed, the world was always changing. Ice caps melted and forests burned, fields were turned to concrete and mountains replaced by skyscrapers, but human nature? That was a bit harder to recreate the way you wanted it to be. Not that that had ever stopped anyone from trying, of course. “No, no, I could see that, actually. Collecting data… You’re good at it.” In a way that reminded Miguel of his own tendency to dig for information, sometimes. 

They weren’t humble, but… Miguel never had been, either. He’d always known he was smart, had banked on it, let his intelligence carry him and make life easier until it started having the opposite effect. It was his intelligence that made Alchemax so unwilling to lose him that they’d slip a drug in his scotch just to keep him in line, after all, and part of him wondered with a morbid curiosity if such things were commonplace in Querl’s time, too, or if the practice had died out somewhere along the line. He wasn’t sure which answer would be more of a comfort — the idea that people that far into the future wouldn’t have to worry about things like that or the concept that he’d been born a few generations too early to avoid it. “Well, you’re bound to meet somebody eventually. Nobody can be the smartest guy in the room forever. Take it from somebody who used to be the smartest guy in most rooms.” 

Leaning forward to inspect the holograms, Miguel hummed. There were certainly gaps in the words he could read, things missing that were unsurprising. Alchemax wouldn’t have wanted to go down in history as tyrants, and they would have taken steps to avoid such a fate. “The world was split into sections by the time I was born,” he said, glancing up to meet Querl’s eye behind the hologram. “Different corps ran different ones. This part of the world — the parts that are the United States in this time, along with Mexico and Canada, they were all under Alchemax’s control. That’s what I know the most about, from my time.” It was probably best, he figured, to specify what knowledge he could share. Otherwise, Querl might get his hopes up a little too high. 

There was something familiar about the things they were saying, about following tradition without knowing why. Miguel had done plenty of that in his day, too. “I’m not offended,” he clarified with a quick wave of his hand. “I’m just — an asshole. Mostly.” The kind of guy who made jokes and dry comments where none were necessary, who threw himself on the tracks in front of a moving train just to poke fun at someone far too high above him to take it lying down. “It’s not all it’s built up to be, you know. Being in the field. It’s… A lot of hard losses.” And very few victories to combat them.

          There was a sort of... Pride that flashed through their inorganic eyes, showed in their soft smile. Of course, this was what Colu was made for, what they had been like for millennia. It seemed to be rare that Querl found any that thought of his species as anything other than a Tyrant from Space, recklessly removing cities and placing them in ‘collection’ biomes; an interesting way to study the many species of the universe, but far from the most popular option morally. “It is the one thing all of Colu knows. My Matrix especially so.”

          They addressed the slight blow to their intellect with a shrug. There wasn’t enough time in the world to debate the argument they tended to win against their fellow Legionares, but... It was quite a real possibility that with so many gaps, as Miguel had pointed out, there were a few from the Earth that had a matching level. Terrifying. They would shudder if they could feel any sort of chill down their metal spine. He listened intently to the story instead, a basic recollection of Earth’s pre-destruction history. so much was lost to time, and apparently much of it had to do with the hostile takeover from the inside. Earthlings, humans, were terrifying at the best of times.

[…]

[…] [📱to Brainiac 5 ] i promise it’s not something i haven’t considered at great length, Brainiac 5 [📱to Brainiac 5 ] there are a lot of Kryptonian traditions i can’t uphold, some i’d give anything to have again, and some probably best let go […]

[…] [📱to Brainiac 5 ] did you know my father, Zor-El, he manufactured a virus designed to kill anyone and anything without Kryptonian dna? he was willing to kill anyone who wasn’t /us/ [📱to Brainiac 5 ] my people were [📱to Brainiac 5 ] we weren’t right about a great number of things, and closing ourselves off and claiming superiority, we weren’t right about that [📱to Brainiac 5 ] and i know this isn’t what we were talking about, not really, but what i mean to say is my family wasn’t perfect. my family did /awful/ things [📱to Brainiac 5 ] and they did those things in the name of Kryptonian values […] [📱to Brainiac 5 ] i care who /you/ are. you’re lar’s best friend, you’re so incredibly smart, you care about people i believe much more than you give yourself credit for [📱to Brainiac 5 ] you’re curious, you’re brave [📱to Brainiac 5 ] you’re everything built over the years that is /good/ about your family. i’m not my father, and you’re /not/ the Coluan who bottled Kandor [📱to Brainiac 5 ] you’re Brainiac 5 […] [📱to Brainiac 5 ] so, i’ve given this a lot of thought, and i don’t need to hold every tradition, sometimes those traditions weren’t right. i’m not offended to have /your/ signature on this document [📱to Brainiac 5 ] i’d love for you to sign, really. and i know it would mean the world to lar, as well.

[ . . . ]

[ . . . . . . . ]

[ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ]

[ ✉ ⟹ Kara Zor-El ] : You are far too kind a soul, Kara Zor El. [ ✉ ⟹ Kara Zor-El ] : I know it’s not entirely the place to speak a million apologies for the many terrors my Ancestor caused in the name of our planet, but I know I’ll never be able to say it enough.

[ . . . ]

[ ✉ ⟹ Kara Zor-El ] : The House of El truly is full of Sun’s Light. [ ✉ ⟹ Kara Zor-El ] : I would be more than honored to sign. It’s both a pleasure and my duty as current standing Legion leader, and I can think of nothing better for Lar Gand to have you and this in his lifetime. 

[ . . . ]

[📱to Brainiac 5 ] you’ve observed correctly! [📱to Brainiac 5 ] i have some [📱to Brainiac 5 ] paperwork here [📱to Brainiac 5 ] i’m sure you’re familiar with Kryptonian bonding […]

[…] [📱to Brainiac 5 ] I would like it, if you’d sign [📱to Brainiac 5 ] if you find me worthy of lar [📱to Brainiac 5 ] traditionally it would be /my/ family signing for /me/, and they did, but I would also like it if lar’s family signed for /him/ [📱to Brainiac 5 ] and as far as i can tell, you’re lar’s family

[ ✉ ⟹ Kara Zor-El ] : Paperwork? How positively primeval. [ ✉ ⟹ Kara Zor-El ] : Familiar enough. My predecessor didn’t tend to care to remember the positive aspects of the culture.

[ . . . ]

[ ✉ ⟹ Kara Zor-El ] : Oh. Wait a tick. [ ✉ ⟹ Kara Zor-El ] : I see.

[ . . . ]

It was a shitty situation, and the shittiest part was the knowledge that the power outage, as chaotic as it was, was little more than a distraction. Simon had a feeling most of what was happening was. The constructs, the emotional turmoil… it was all to keep anyone from looking too closely at what was happening behind the scenes. Kyle — Oblivion was probably planning something a lot worse than what had gone down so far. And Simon had a pretty sinking feeling that the other Lanterns were going to be forced to play some kind of part in that, be it through stopping him or playing right into his hands. He offered the alien in front of him a small, apologetic smile. “Wish I had better news.” For all of them.

In another scenario, the conversation might have been almost funny. Simon had always adored learning more about the alien cultures in the far parts of the sector, and whatever culture this was certainly seemed intriguing. If the two of them weren’t surrounded by so much chaos, he might have asked them to tell him more about it, but… There probably wasn’t time for that now. “Nobody’s perfect, right? That’s what makes us all unique. Special.” He was sure the same was true on their world, too. Even species whose every quality were designed to be as they were had flaws. No design was perfect. No being was perfect. Despite what anyone might believe to the contrary. Simon had always understood that. He’d also always believed firmly in the words in the Quran, the ones that said Allah had used his own image as inspiration in creation. No one was perfect, but everyone had the ability to be good. Simon would always believe that.

Simon nodded as they seemed to canvas the area, watching them carefully. “I saw a power line down a few blocks from here,” he offered. “If you want to help me out, we can get it back up. I don’t think it’ll restore power, but… It’ll keep anything on the ground from being electrified when power is restored to the area.”

          Better news would be welcome now. If Querl could fix the Time Bubble, or, better yet, have someone from the Legion find their signals in the vast tangle of space-time and bring them back home where the threat seemed a bit less emotionally significant... Or, at least, at times they weren’t. Having their feet on literal ground zero for most of these planet-threatening events was doing nothing for their own emotional suppressant programs, and the Coluan worried that they might have a harder time staying their usual course of data collection in favor of what their Daxamite teammate was charted to do.

          “Indeed,” They sighed, blinking back into the moment, their quick-search slightly fruitless. “The vast amounts of genetic data alone are a study that took millennium to master and categorize. Perfecting the Earth Human is a near impossible feat.” It didn’t occur that they might be miss-categorizing the Lantern’s species. Plenty of humanoid and Earth-similar Legionnaires had confused them once upon a time, when they were a few years younger and still trying to figure out their updated filing system. A nervous tick had their fingers gripping over the palm implants, tapping the pads against the softly glowing disc before the offer of a possible fix. Perking back up from their moment of seeming worry, they nodded quick enough to disturb the blond synthetic hair they had pushed away from their eyes. “Yes! Yes, that... Anything to be of service. My intellect is very useful for the task at hand.” Rolling their shoulders back, they started to gingerly float off the ground, the gold Flight Ring still working to adjust against the Planet’s gravity. (How long had it been since they’d taken a flight? How long since they’d been out of the Laboratory?)

@brxinixc5

[📱to Brainiac 5 ] hey! [📱to Brainiac 5 ] hey [📱to Brainiac 5 ] sorry [📱to Brainiac 5 ] nervous [📱to Brainiac 5 ] may I ask a favor of you? [📱to Brainiac 5 ] a quick favor, because I’m meeting Lar in the Sahara, and it’s time sensitive, or he might spontaneously combust

Nia couldn’t take her eyes away from where the other Nia had been. This double wearing an expression she was sure she so rarely wore. Even Querl, with all his knowledge of so many things unknown to the people living on Earth, didn’t know what that was. And it freaked Nia out, made her nervous. What was that thing going to do? Was it truly her?

“Wait–” Nia tore her eyes away, looking to Querl as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Shouldn’t we do something?”

          “I... Perhaps.” The grimace that contorted their face felt far too heavy for this situation. Nia was afraid, most certainly... They didn’t quite know how well to take what they’d just seen either. More so, they felt the same fear in that unknown variable. “Though... This is entirely new to me. I’m not sure how to deal with... Surprise duplicates.” Triplicate Girl was understandable, Luornu Durgo had been a member of the Legion as far as their quick-memory could fathom. But this was Earth, not Cargg. Things like this didn’t just happen, and not normally to someone who already had their own powerset. 

Everything was so messed up. There were constructs going wild, emotions running rampant, and Kyle was behind all of it. Simon was still trying to wrap his mind around it, still trying to figure out how to move forward with it, but it was hard when there was no time to even process what was going on. He couldn’t stop to consider the weight of it all, couldn’t pause to ponder the cause or even try to find a solution. There was no time to do anything but fight. No time to focus on anything but getting civilians to safety and helping who he could while pushing his own rising emotions back down. It was easier said than done. Most things were.

When Simon saw the figure in front of him, it became clear that they were an alien of some sort. He wasn’t sure on planet of origin (distantly, he thought one of the other Lanterns probably would have known and damn it, he needed to get better at this –), but he could tell they were overwhelmed. It would have been hard not to be overwhelmed, given everything going on. Simon was just barely holding on himself, and he was a pretty literal pinnacle of willpower. 

“That’s okay,” he said with a reassuring grin. “I’m pretty sure most people aren’t sure what they need right now. The power grid’s been knocked out, so I don’t think we’re going to get anywhere on news. Sorry about that.” They seemed to pause, seemed to take a moment before apologizing, and Simon began to understand a little more about their culture as they spoke. He still had no idea what planet they were from, but… He was usually good with picking up clues about culture. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ve got tons of bugs, and I do okay.” He hoped the smile he offered was comforting, in one way or another. “I can explain to the best of my knowledge, but… I can’t pretend to know all the details here.” 

          Querl listened a bit too intently, a tight frown pulling at their face. So it was a widespread outage. How unfortunate. If they had enough of their own solar-radiation-based energies to disperse without causing their own demise, they’d request to be sent to the nearest plant so they could fix it on their own. Even so, the primitive Earth technology had been so easily wiped from it’s grid system, he didn’t think he wanted to bear witness to the hardware disaster that could’ve been left behind. “Qrok. I feared as such,” the Coluan sighed, arms crossing tightly over their chest. Any sort of immediate information was now null and void. If they could connect to whatever stream of data was cycling around in the airwaves...

          Their look softened from confusion, worry, thinking hard about some kind of solution to the momentary monumental problem, into something closer to wary curiosity. Many Lanterns had been in their Justice League files, ones that belonged to him and the very first model of Brainiac, and they could at least attempt to analyze why in this moment. This was... Empathy? Some kind of attempt to sound more connected than they physically were? “Of course. Earth beings have many system flaws, but... I do not expect them to be perfect creatures. They are not made by design.” Querl shrugged as their brain continued the conversation, noting how it was both interesting and a sort of strange blessing that most creatures on this planet were simply random-chance genetics. Weather that made them more or less whole... Was still an internal debate they would have at a later time.

Miguel laughed, glad that his words hadn’t offended. Normally, he wouldn’t care much one way or another. He pissed off pretty much every person he spoke to in his own time, but… Querl was all right. Miguel found he didn’t want them to hate him the way so many people did. “Nice to know that people still hate their bosses even that far into the future,” he snorted. “Some things never change, huh?” Absolute power corrupts absolutely. That was what Gabri used to quote. Miguel always thought it was a little lame, but… It was kind of undeniable, too. He’d never met anyone with power who didn’t abuse it in one way or another. 

Huffing a quiet laugh at Querl’s response, Miguel shook his head. “I’ll try not to be offended about the whole six thing. I didn’t build her. I helped, but… The hard part was done by someone a shock of a lot smarter than me.” Xina was the brains behind Lyla’s code, and Miguel would be the first to admit that his (rather impressive, if he did say so himself) intellect didn’t compare to hers. They were in different fields, of course, but even then… Xina kind of blew everyone out of the water. He leaned forward a bit as Querl displayed their own holograms, eyes darting curiously across the lights. “If the gaps are from my time,” he hummed, “I may be able to explain it a bit. The corps that run things tend to hold any kind of knowledge close to the chest. They control who knows what… and they’d kind of prefer no one know anything.”

When the holograms vanished, Miguel was actually a little disappointed. It wasn’t his field of study, but he’d always been fascinated by tech. It was part of why he and Xina had clicked so quickly. “I don’t know how well I’d do at that, either,” Miguel admitted, a little apologetic. The very concept of working with a team was new to him. It hadn’t been an option in 2099, and while there were far more superheroes in the Heroic Age than there were by the time he started donning a costume, he hadn’t found a place where he really clicked among them. “Gee, membership by default? You know how to make a guy feel special.”

          “Bosses of any kind, of course. It seems to be humanoid nature to rebel.” They shrugged, synthetic eyes darting up to the sky, reminding themself of the leaders the Legion cycled through during it’s extended tenure. “Though, believe it or not, I was mostly a data-analyst and collector.” It was what they were built for, what they were the best at, despite others claiming he possesses other talents. It was much easier to focus on... Well, what was easy. 

          The android raised an eyebrow, bringing their attention back to the planet, back to their current subject of study-... Or, rather, someone they were getting to know. He had made a minor effort to become acquainted with their new home (as much as they hated to think of it that way, that the Colu they knew was so far behind, that the Earth was still in one piece), but their transition into the new living space still felt stilted. “Only an average. There are those who break the mold, but I’ve yet to meet someone matching my 12th Level.” They wondered if that might constitute as bragging, the near opposite of what Miguel was doing. Their smile was pulled, a bit sadder in the moment at the idea of this nameless someone probably still back in Earth Year 2099, still in Miguel’s home time. It was an empathy that Querl only had shared with Lar, but the Daxamite seemed to be making easier friends in this past than they were. 

          Querl huffed, bringing up another hologram, the text squiggling from the shapes of the language of the Universe to English letters, holding up their open palm for the other to observe, read. “It’s quite possible that’s a factor. I know for certain there are... Others.” Ones that didn’t deserve the recognition, ones that they were actively trying to avoid mentioning at all costs for fear of someone finally connecting the dots. “Any information you’re willing to give would be tremendous.”

He felt… empty. Empty the way he did when he watched from a pod as his planet was pummeled with broken debris that was the remnants of Krypton, empty the way he felt watching, frozen as he was but fully aware as decades turned into centuries turned into millennia stuck in the phantom zone with his only companions being those abandoned by the Kryptonians to rot eternally. Empty the way he had been when he was left alone in the Legion’s ship, his fear and anger slipping from him until nothing was left to be angry or scared about. 

Staring up at the ceiling of his room felt a lot like that. The news played on his television, streaks of red and blue and green and yellow passed by the screen, fires glowed, people screamed, people died, and Lar felt nothing. Something was wrong with him, or maybe he had just finally broken. He could feel Brainiac’s eyes on him. They were concerned, he could feel it in the way they tapped anxiously at their thigh as they passed and hesitated before walking away only to make another trip outside his room, and another, and another, and another. He turned, finally, catching their eye and feeling, for the first time since they had met, nothing when he saw them. He focused on their face, their large eyes and the downturn of the mouth. A day ago he was sure he would have been filled with affection, overwhelmed with affection for the being they had come to see as their sibling, as their best friend, but now he only wanted them to leave, not out of annoyance, but because it would be easier than trying to explain the hole he felt was growing in the essence of his being minute by minute. 

“Just say what you need to say, Brainiac,” he said, monotone and muffled as he turned his face away from them, “and then leave me.” 

@brxinixc5​

          It had taken great lengths to get the generators of the Legion’s facility up and running again, taking most of Querl’s time and nearly limitless energy to make sure everything stayed properly running. If their fellow Legionaire wasn’t going to be pestering them anymore, they needed the hum of computer consoles to give them some sort of comforting noise. Even when the electronics were finally running their course, something felt... Off. Things were a bit too quiet, almost like the live-in Daxamite had left to see if the city had fallen to a similar fate of energy loss. What was the curious computer to do but go investigate out of a strange, alien worry?

          Instead, they found Lar Gand... Laying around. The last thing he expected him to do. Surface observation would conclude exhaustion, injury, something inevitable to hold him back; Would being the key word. Their data wouldn’t recall any recent missions that could cause any of the first symptoms, even if the quite literally bulletproof hero wouldn’t qualify for them in a normal sense. Quelling the rambling thoughts of possibilities, the Coluan’s brow wrinkled under the confusion, the worry that replaced all previous processes. Not to mention that it was strangely uncomforting to be called Brainiac with that specific vocal register.

“We don’t have the privilege of sitting aside.” || @brxinixc5​

“No, we don’t” Alex replied with a sigh. She hadn’t planned on returning to the DEO for at least a few more weeks, wanting to stay home with her daughter, but she couldn’t. People needed help and she couldn’t leave her agents to deal with this crisis on their own. She’d asked Brainy for help to get the DEO’s infirmary up and running without the power being out in the entire city. She’d gathered every kind of alien technology and energy source they had available. “You think you can get some power to the infirmary with this?” It wouldn’t be enough to power the entire DEO but the infirmary was the most important.

/

          In normal circumstances, this would’ve been a playground. A literal pile of technology from other planets, other star systems that they knew through internal catalogue, ones that had also found their ways to Earth and left rubble and trash in their wake, it seemed. A magenta glow washed over the parts as Querl scanned for power sources, broken wires, anything that seemed amiss according to their databases. Teal tinted their cheeks, their temples where the embedded discs couldn’t quite reach, as they tried to speed through their already speedy computing, running through improv schematics and attempting to create his own blueprint for an outer-space-style generator. This would’ve been something akin to fun... But time was of the essence, and Earth lives needed to be saved. 

@brxinixc5 said:  “Tell me that you saw that too.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I saw it.” But why was there another her? Nia was confused, especially when she saw the other Nia’s expression. It was one she didn’t think had really ever existed on her own face, not like this. It was pure anger, fury, without any temperance. “What is going on?”

/

          “I... I’m unsure.” Querl had been making the rounds to every one of their contacts, attempting to make a list of exactly who was and who wasn’t still up and breathing. Or, rather, who wasn’t as affected by the current happenings. It didn’t help that they’d acted as a walking beacon, guiding lost souls to their location just by having glowing attachments. Nia Nal had been harder to find than most, but her energy signature was... Off. Now... It seemed far too clear why he hadn’t been able to find the Naltorian easier. 

SKILLSET //