The golden zeppelin limped through space awkwardly, flames bursting out across its canopy only to be silenced by the cold vacuum of space. Once, the ship had been beautiful- specifically carved and sculpted so that it was as easy on the eye as it was practical; one of countless examples of the craftsmanship of New Genesis, intended to carry many dozens of New Gods at once. Now the once proud vessel lurched as more energy bursts struck it, overloading circuits and bringing it close to system failure.
Behind it, a long-nosed, sleek and fire-red battle cruiser came onwards, flaming energy lancing from it into the wounded zeppelin. The Apokoliptian light cruiser had ambushed the New Genesis transport just within real-space and now continued to rain fire down upon it, keeping up such a steady barrage that the golden starship could not activate it’s Boom Tube generators, too busy trying to survive the murderous onslaught.
On the bridge of the Apokoliptian ship, surrounded by slavering parademons and nameless, shapeless figures, a New God of Apokolips allowed a sneer to cross his lipless mouth, savouring the prospect of imminent victory.
“You may inform Admiral Steppenwolf that we have another confirmed kill…” He instructed. Officially, Apokoliptian ships could not fire upon New Genesis vessels, but what Darkseid did not know could not hurt him, and Steppenwolf had been endorsing the sport for some time now. This had been a very smooth operation overall actually, and…
“What is that?” he snapped suddenly, seeing something on the viewscreen, eyes widening. “A boom tube energy signal…” he murmured. “But who could…?” His eyes widened as one of the images displayed the form hurtling towards his ship.
“Deploy parademons!” he roared after a second. “Prepare to counteract immediately- Steppenwolf warned us of this one.” His eyes narrowed as the form on his viewscreen bellowed a war cry, followed swiftly by another in a white costume. “…Orion…”
* * *
Barda gazed down at the unconscious form of Scott Free as he lay within his cell, face betraying nothing. How did he do it, she wondered? How did he keep his spirits so high in this forsaken place? She had never even heard of his existence before she was assigned as his guard, yet now she could not get him out of her head. The younger New God stirred in his rest, and she reflected again on how he seemed to sleep soundly on a world where none were ever free of nightmares- whether sleeping or awake.
“Incredible, isn’t it?” came the distinctive mocking croon that signalled the arrival of Granny Goodness. Barda saluted as her superior approached, face fixed on Scott Free with the slightest of scowls. “For
years we tried to train him. Granny put him in with the other recruits, she tried her best…. She even unleashed Lashina on him…” Granny continued in her strange manner of referring to herself in the third person, her voice enough to send shudders up the spine of any less trained than Barda. “But still he remains a bad boy. So Great Darkseid ordered him locked up down here where he can’t cause any trouble, simply to sit in a cell until he is needed.” And now the scowl was unmistakeable. “But you still cause trouble, don’t you, Scott?” she breathed into the cell at his unconscious form.
And that was when Scott Free sat bolt upright and spat in her face.
“Always, witch,” he responded defiantly. Granny’s face betrayed her fury only for a second but then she turned on her heel, addressing Barda.
“No food for Granny’s little boy tonight, my darling. Bad behaviour is
always punished.” She turned an innocent sideways glance on the cell. “Perhaps Lashina will pay a visit in the morning…”
Barda saw Scott flinch with horror for just a second. He controlled it, but his face still reddened, and his disgust was clear as Granny swept out of the room. Barda resumed her silent vigil, face ever so slightly troubled. So the prisoner had been here all his life? She could not blame him for being afraid of Lashina- that witch was Barda’s deputy as leader of the Furies, and she spent her life scheming to replace her. But it was Granny’s other words which dwelt with her- they had tried to train Scott Free… and failed? She had never known any to resist Apokoliptian brainwashing techniques before. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at the young God who had now resumed his attempt to sleep on the bunk.
“Just what kind of God are you anyway, Scott Free?” She was horrified to discover she had whispered the words aloud- she hadn’t meant to do that. The prisoner turned to face her, his expression blank- but firey passion burning in his eyes.
“It’s right there in the name. Something you will never be, monster,” he spat, his words reaching into her very core. “A free one.”
“Free? You are anything but
free, prisoner,” she responded automatically. “You live in a cage and I am the Captain of the Fury Battalion!” He smiled slightly at that and she found herself more infuriated than ever.
“Do you obey Darkseid, ‘Captain’?” he asked. She was thrown off by the odd question, but his eyes continued to burn with a heat quite unlike that which blazed unceasingly across the planet.
“I… of course,” she responded awkwardly.
“And Granny? And Vunderbar? And the rest of the Elite?” he pressed.
“That is my role.”
“And what do you think of them?”
“I… I’m not sure I understand…” She turned away, uncertain.
“Your opinion, ‘Captain’ Barda.” He was now right up against the bars. “What’s your opinion of them?”
“I… they are my masters. I think what they wish me to think,” she replied automatically.
“Exactly,” Scott chuckled through parched lips. “Now think on that… and then tell me- which of us is truly free?”
* * *
Orion hurtled through space, hands locked around his opponent’s neck, face torn back in a snarl. The parademon was scratching at him, it’s sharpened claws scrabbling over his helmet to try to tear it off, but he simply intensified his grip, relying on his Astro-Harness to keep them both moving without hitting anything. The monster gave a last desperate lurch at him and in response, he slammed his head into the creature’s, and then slammed it again, and again, drawing black blood. It fell back, stunned, and he took the opportunity to draw back one arm and send a fist crashing into the abomination, sending the parademon’s lifeless body drifting away.
Orion whirled to find another monster descending on him, but this time he simply squeezed the trigger of his harness and a spray of energy bolts tore it out of his path. These were a low class of parademons, fairly weak and easy to take out- hence why they had been assigned to a simple predator ship rather than a more important duty. Still, if they got close enough- which they often did when there were too many to take out from afar- they could be vicious beasts.
Orion turned to see a trio of the creatures advancing towards him, firing rapid, inaccurate bursts from their energy rifles. He wove in and out of the blasts, returning fire relying on Mother Box to let him know if anything came from behind.
“FOR NEW GENESIS!” he bellowed, and tore into the group. The force of his impact sent the first careening away, but the other two were on him, biting and tearing. He grunted in pain and tried to use his massive strength to his advantage, but the cunning monsters were shifting so that he could never bring his strength directly to bear. One of them tore a part out of his shoulder with a massive scratch of it’s claws, and he let out an angry roar rather than show his pain. As the third returned and another group approached, he cursed himself mentally- they may be mindless, but he couldn’t become overconfident against them; he still had relatively little experience, as the urgent
*ping* of his Mother Box reminded him. Time to use his most powerful asset.
He felt the Astro Force, the mysterious energy wielded by him alone, flow through him; felt it coalesce around his body and gather. After a moment, during which he was, for once, perfectly calm, he unleashed it silently.
A giant golden energy wave burst from his form, shattering the three parademons upon him and the other five which were approaching. They were utterly annihilated by the blast, their bodies disintegrating in seconds. For his part, Orion grit his teeth to avoid shouting out in pain- every use of the Astro-Force posed substantial risk that he would rip himself apart as well, which was why he had to use it sparingly. Still, the immediate threat was dealt with and Mother Box stopped chiming.
Orion turned his attention back to the larger picture. In the empty space between the two battleships, dozens of parademons floated listlessly, most of them smashed unconscious by Lightray. As he continued to watch, another of the creatures flew towards him, only to be sent hurtling backwards as a blur of light slashed through the space past it. Orion’s friend preferred non-lethal methods of incapacitation, something which was an option to him thanks to his particular gifts. That seemed to be most of them in any case. Lightray came into view again as he paused, grinning brightly.
“Well,” he said into his Mother Box, counting on it to transfer the sound to Orion. “That seems to….” But he was interrupted as Orion saw an “unconscious” parademon spring to life behind his friend, charging towards him with a ravenous howl.
“LIGHTRAY!” he shouted out, gunning his Astro-Harness in the knowledge he was too far away. “LOOK OUT!”
* * *
Lightray gave a gasp of horror as the green and yellow suited beast threw itself upon him, stabbing at him with it’s claws. He tried to grab it’s wrists to stop it but the aberration continued unceasingly, snapping at him with it’s razor-sharp teeth, it’s drool flecking his face. He turned his face half away, wincing, and tried to lash out with his feet, but he was simply kicking against lifeless flesh. To his horror, the parademon was stronger than him, breaking free of his grip to bring it’s claw downwards and slash a wound in his torso- he gave a gasp of pain. It was the first time he had been wounded in an actual fight, and he was beginning to realise why Highfather had always preached about the evils of war.
A few moments ago, he had thought he understood why Orion liked war- his rage when he saw the Apokoliptians’ cowardly ambush was genuine, and it had felt good to exact a measure of payment by decimating their ranks. But now, faced with this… abomination bred solely to fight, to kill, to die for Darkseid, as it roared silently into his face… he was no longer certain about war at all.
It’s claws whipped out again, and as he tried to pound on it fruitlessly, he realised dimly that he would need to take emergency action. Orion’s voice was bellowing from his Mother Box so that Lightray could hear it even in the vacuum, but he ignored it, focusing on battling his opponent. The monster had nearly overcome him, and was ready to rip his head off if it could- and that’s when he realised that there was only one thing to do. With a shout of pain as it’s claws slashed his side again, he raised a hand to either side of it’s head and then, grimacing, fired twin beams of light energy.
The parademon’s head exploded in a gout of dark flesh and the pressure on his body suddenly ceased as his attacker’s decapitated corpse floated away listlessly.
“Are you alright?” came Orion’s voice from Mother Box into Lightray’s head as his friend arrived. For his part, Lightray simply stared at the drifting body, horrified at what he had been done. Orion followed his gaze, and then pursed his lips. A rare expression of understanding crossed the Dog of War’s face, and without waiting for a reply, he left Lightray alone, descending on the battle cruiser with all blasters from his Astro-Harness blazing, roaring his war cry.
* * *
Scott kept talking to Barda even as his eyes scanned the room, looking for a means of making another escape. Had Granny truly thought of everything this time? The bars were too thick to slip through, the roof, wall and floor were all reinforced, he had nothing which could possibly be used as a weapon, the ragged jumpsuit he was clad in doubtless had a locator. The latter didn’t matter to him- yes, it was a problem for his final escape, but until then, he was content to escape again and again, making a mockery of Granny’s “security”, even if he was always unsuccessful.
“Your attempts to distract me are of no consequence,” snapped Barda, breaking him out of his reverie. “Your attempts to distract me are futile.”
“Well if that’s so, Barda, then why have we been chattering away non-stop for over a day?”
“You are doing the talking, prisoner. Not me.
“That’s true enough. I like that in a girl- willing to let me say my piece and all! To be fair, my experience in that department is pretty limited, so I don’t exactly know what it is I don’t like in a girl.”
“You are a foolish buffoon, Scott Free,” Barda snapped. “There is no escape on Apokolips. The sooner you learn this, the better you shall be.”
A slight smile came to Scott’s battered face at that.
“You really haven’t heard of me, have you?” he asked. Her face hardened slightly, but she did not respond, which confirmed what he had believed.
“If you had, Barda, you’d know how wrong you are. You see…” He lay back on his rock-hard “bed”. “I’ve escaped from my prison every 2 days for the last fifty years.”
And if he hadn’t known better, he would have sworn he saw a flicker of a frown cross her face.
* * *
“Lightray?” Concern crossed Orion’s face as he shook his friend by the shoulder. “Lightray! Are you alright? Did one of the parademons wound you?” His friend blinked and shook his head slightly.
“No, it’s just… I have never actually killed anything before…”
“Well, get used to it,” responded Orion grimly. “This was only one pirate patrol, and I’m certain there are more out here.” Behind him, the hulk of the Apokoliptian cruiser floated desolate, having fallen victim to his ruthless onslaught. The crew were dead, and a dozen fires raged within, ready to erupt outside at the slightest notice of oxygen. “In any case, they’re not really living things. Just mindless shells bred by Darkseid.”
“…Yes,” Lightray responded, still shell-shocked. “Of course.” The cruiser they had saved was gone, leaving the two Gods alone with floating parademon bodies and the cruiser wreck. “What now?”
“…Now…” A gleam came to Orion’s eye. “I have an idea to pay Darkseid back with a taste of his own deadly methods.” He reached down to his belt.
“Mother Box! Bring up a boom tube… I wish to show Darkseid that the Dog of War is through playing his games.”
* * *
“…is now entering phase 2, Mighty Darkseid,” Granny simpered, face pressed to the ground before her overlord’s throne. “The next batch of Furies will be ready on time for your plans, Granny swears it!”
“See that they are, Granny Goodness,” nodded the Apokoliptian overlord from his dark throne.
“The pieces are moving, and soon they will be in place. If you are not ready when the time comes….” He leaned forward slightly, flame-red eyes burning like the coals of Hell.
“…you will find it is not merely pawns who are expendable.” Granny repressed a shudder and bowed lower, hoisting her cloak and crawling backwards a few paces until the glare was lifted, at which point she picked herself up, brushed herself down and turned to stand beside Kalibak.
“What updates do you bring, Desaad?” asked the dark one, turning his withering glare to the purple-hooded figure who skulked behind Granny.
“Good news, my lord,” the weasel-like figure bowed low. “The prisoner has….
rethought his decision to hide the truth from us, and has informed us of the latest words of the Source Wall.”
“That preposterous decoration has afforded Highfather far too much advantage of late…” Darkseid reflected aloud.
“Perhaps it would be wise to deal with it before this cosmic game enters its next phase.” He gave no orders, he did not need to. All three of his sycophantic minions would take careful note of his words, and doubtless all three would take steps to ensure that they disposed of it. It was a deliberate tactic he used to keep them all alert; better double crossing and scheming against each other than redirecting those energies in fruitless attempts to topple him.
“Nevertheless, proceed. What words of counsel did the Source offer Highfather?”“That is just it, my lord,” Desaad bowed again. “The Wall did not speak to Highfather. It spoke…”
BOOMAs one, his three underlings snapped their heads in the direction of the sound. For himself, Darkseid merely narrowed his eyes. All knew that it was forbidden to use a boom tube in Armagetto unless on urgent business of the God of Gods himself. Nevertheless, Darkseid stood, allowing his black cape to fall about his shoulders, jawline set on his craggy face.
The dread lord advanced down the main dais of his throne room, towards the colossal balcony at the front that afforded an overview of Armagetto. As he did, Kalibak, Granny and Desaad fell in behind him, exchanging nervous glances. Darkseid stepped onto the balcony and looked up….
…and saw that even here in Hell, all hell had broken loose.
A colossal tunnel of light hung high in the sky directly in front of the palace, and from it erupted an Apokoliptian battle cruiser, one of the pirate ships ambushing vessels of New Genesis across the cosmos. It streaked down towards the palace, gaining speed, flame pouring from it’s ruptured hatches, a massive trail of smoke behind it. The vessel was pointed like an arrow directly at the massive statue of Darkseid adorning the palace courtyard.
Around him, his minions looked on in horror as the starship continued it’s magnificent final flight, it’s engines screaming so loudly that they were now audible from the throne room. With a titanic crash the ship burst through the head of the statue, adding even more flames to the blazing wreck, and sending huge stone fragments spinning wildly through the air. Continuing on it’s path from the decapitated stone colossus, the ship was now streaking straight towards the throne room.
The howl of its engines grew louder over the wind; it was now only half a kilometre away, and still coming at top speed. For his part, Darkseid merely set his jaw and stared up at it, eyes narrowing. With a howl, Granny Goodness flung herself to the ground, raising her cape as though it could afford her some protection. Desaad took a few hesitant steps backwards, then turned and outright fled as the vessel came on, ever closer. And still, Darkseid remained, looking straight up at death, staring it in the face.
The vessel was closer still now, and now huge winds were buffeting the palace, the scream of its engines drowning out all else. They could smell the blaze of what had once been a proud battleship as its doomed flight continued, its nose angled directly at Darkseid. Yet still the overlord of Apokolips merely stared up at it, as though paralyzed. Beside him, his son’s nerve finally broke and with an animal roar, Kalibak threw himself aside to try to avoid the deadly impact.
Now the ship was merely twenty metres away and closing rapidly, pouring on at ridiculous speeds. Ten metres- nine metres, it could only be mere seconds now before it obliterated the throne room and all in it. And at last…. Darkseid acted.
“I am the Lord of the Anti-Life…” he spoke quietly, his voice gaining strength.
“I am the Alpha and the Omega. I am Birth and Death, I am day and I am everlasting night…” The nose of the ship was now only a metre away, about to crash into the tyrant and end his dread reign forever- Granny Goodness gave a renewed howl….
…and then twin beams of energy lanced from Darkseid’s eyes to strike the blazing prow of the cruiser. For the merest fragment of a second, nothing happened.
Then the entire vessel vanished with a loud cracking noise, utterly obliterated as though it had never been.
“I am Darkseid,” finished the dread one as he scornfully surveyed the place the ship had once been.
Casually, he turned and walked back towards his throne, passing the cowering forms of Kalibak and Granny Goodness.
“Get me General Steppenwolf,” he ordered dismissively as he passed the enclave where Desaad sheltered.
“Orion foolishly believes he can challenge me. I shall show him what it is to be a God of Evil.” * * *
“…some taste of vengeance at least,” said Lightray, his spirits mostly restored. The two New Gods had taken a boom tube to a fairly deserted world in a fairly deserted Galaxy. It was fairly tranquil, though it lacked the calm peace that reigned on all of New Genesis, and it would act as their camp while they waged their war against the Dark God and his skirmishes in Realspace.
“Darkseid and his cronies will not forget that any time soon,” answered Orion. The grim irony of assaulting Darkseid using the same method with which he had insulted New Genesis appealed to even his small sense of humour. “And that’s only the beginning. Darkseid will soon learn the folly of continuing his raids into Realspace,”
“He might have ignored the pirates’ destruction,” agreed Lightray. “But even he can’t ignore such an attack on his power in the Armagetto.”
“Correct,” came a faint voice. “And that is precisely why it was moronic of you to act as you did,” The voice was all too familiar to both of them, and as one they turned.
Sitting on a floating green chair with countless wild and unthinkable instruments, and devices centuries ahead of what even the other New Gods could possibly accomplish, was an outlandish figure. His dark blue bodysuit was form fitting and practical, his fingers knit before his eyes as always, and he looked to all appearances like any other New God. But it was his eyes which set him apart. Below thick grey bushy eyebrows, his penetrating eyes were of deepest alien blue. To stare at him was to gaze into the eyes of the Creator, to see the infinite and unfathomable reaches of space in two eyes. He appeared as though he could see into the very depths of your soul, drag forth all your hidden faults and vices simultaneously with your pride and accomplishment, and know it all in a single instant and remain unimpressed. He was Metron, the Chronicler, and his sole purpose in existence was to record all knowledge that ever was, and ever had been.
“Metron,” growled Orion, immediately reverting to familiar hostility. “What do you want here, meddling chronicler?”
“What I always want, Orion,” he responded with infinite calm. “To attain all knowledge in creation. But for today, I will content myself with a warning,”
“Warning? You think we…” But Lightray cut across his friend.
“We are grateful for any assistance, Metron. What is it you come to warn us about?”
A mirthless smile came to Metron’s lips. “You speak with wisdom beyond your years, young God. It is clear that you at least realise how seriously you should take my words. But I lost patience with you long ago, Orion. Your arrogance and your headstrong ways doomed you decades before you foolishly abandoned your home world.”
“Foolishly?” Orion retorted. “The Source Wall….”
“…is not known for it’s clarity,” responded the older God icily. “In any case, I did not come to debate with an oaf.” He returned his attention to Lightray. “The Dark God moves swiftly. You have alerted him to your intentions to wage war upon him; that was foolish. He has not been at war in countless years, his guard had fallen, but now you have alerted him. You made him look weak, and Darkseid does not forget that.”
“I do not care,” Orion responded. “Let the dark one come with all his armies; we shall fight them all,”
“And die,” Metron sneered. “Nevertheless, fortunately for you, he has other concerns.” A hologram of a small, blue-green world burst into being before their eyes. “Darkseid has set his sights on a backwater world in sector 2162, a planet called Earth. I did not know what he wanted there, but now I do.” Metron leant forwards over his clasped fingers. “This world appears to be home to several hosts of the Anti-Life Equation.” Orion’s eyes widened.
“That…. Why do you tell us this, chronicler?”
“You understand the significance then, Orion?” Metron turned his gaze to him. “Good. I did not expect you would. Well then, you know how vital it is that the Dread One be denied.” He sat back. “My goal is to amass all knowledge, Orion. And that would be difficult to do… if all that knowledge, and myself, were to be controlled by Darkseid. It is imperative he be stopped.”
“Why come to us?” growled the Dog of War. “Why not Highfather, or…”
“Because it will take a God to stop Gods, and the Pact forbids Highfather from having any part of this,” Metron cut him off. “Understand, you are the only ones who can do this. You must go to Earth, and stop Darkseid’s minions when they arrive. You will have one chance to catch them off-guard. After that, they will be so far dug in we cannot possibly stop them in time.”
“Then that is what we must do,” Orion nodded. But Lightray stared on, frowning.
“I don’t understand,” he broke in at last. “Why’s this sum so important that we need to drop everything to stop Darkseid getting it? What is the Anti-Life Equation?”
There was a long pause, wherein Metron and Orion shared a rare glance. At last, Orion spoke.
“Control, Lightray. The Anti-Life Equation is control.”
“Of what?” asked the exasperated younger God.
This time, it was Metron who answered.
“Everything.”
