[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/xo9ZKcF.png?1[/img][/center] [b]Cromica C21[/b] [b]Space Sector 2814[/b] Hal settled in with a bottle of D’Bari bourbon and his reading material for the night. He propped his feet up on the jailhouse desk and cracked open the bottle. The prisoners in the cells were fast asleep. A few of them were snoring loudly, a few ripped off the occasional fart. Hal turned out the snoring and did his best to ignore the smell. He poured the whiskey into a tumbler and set the bottle on the desk. He took a sip and sighed with content when he felt the burn. He polished off half the glass before activating the HUD projection on his ring. Data scrolled past his eye. It was everything the GLC had on Korvus Melm, Cromica’s first chief constable. Jelcs provided Hal with what he knew about his old boss earlier. So far Hal’s info was a match for what Jelcs knew. Melm served as a cop after a long career in the Shi’ar Imperial Navy. What Jecls didn’t know were the finer details. A lot of it was redacted, but Hal could see a pattern forming. Chief Petty Officer Korvus Melm serves with distinction for over thirty cycles and takes a job as a security consultant for a company known as Imperial Solutions. Innocuous sounding on paper, like all front companies were. Records with the company were as spotty as those of the Shi'ar Empire, but it showed Melm traveled around the galaxy doing work for Imperial. He was still employed by the company up until the day he died. He never officially quit before heading to the wilds of Cromica five years ago. Five years, thought Hal. Just five years ago. Hal always assumed Melm was part of the so-called pioneer faction like Jelcs, people who were here before the dark matter discovery put the sleepy little system on the map. It looked as if he showed up just as the rest of the miners, conmen, and shady types came to town looking to make a quick buck. Something about that made the niggling feeling in the back of his mind stronger. There was something there. He just had to go deeper. He scrolled on to the information about the night Melm died. Jelcs was the author of the incident report. It was concise, informative, and actually told a linear narrative. Jelcs mentioned something before about working in his home planet’s legal system. It seemed to Hal the clerical side of law enforcement came naturally to him. Hal checked the timestamp. Written just a few hours after the body's discovery. That made it even more impressive to sit down with it fresh in your minds and file an objective report about your boss’s murder. Melm caught a blaster bolt to the back of the head in some gravel back alley. A drunk miner found his body in the middle of the night. Almost pissed all over it. It was a good thing he didn’t since the miner was a Crazathi. His hydrochloric based piss would have destroyed any potential evidence. Not that Jelcs recovered anything usable. He could write a good report, but the guy wasn't much of a detective. Hal examined the few pictures Jelcs took. Shots of Melm’s body up close, close-up on the wound. His arms were splayed out like he hadn’t expected it. But with the gravel nobody could have snuck up on Melm. Not unless he were deaf. Hal swiped over to another shot of Melm’s outstretched arms. He saw a small tattoo on the skin between the thumb and forefinger. Hal zoomed in and saw what it was clearly. “Son of a bitch,” he said softly. He knew who killed Melm and he knew exactly why. [hr] [b]Hala[/b] [b]Space Sector Unassigned [/b] [i]“No mind games, no tricks. This is a simple message to you and the people of Rann. With one Lantern, we destroyed your entire fleet. With two Lanterns? Who knows what damage we could do. End transmission.”[/i] The members of the Galactic Council stared down at the two Green Lanterns as the recorded transmission ended. The Thanagar representative was the first one to speak. She cleared her throat and raised an eyebrow. “Senior Lantern Sinestro, do you deny this was you on the recording?” Sinestro stood and made sure his yellow eyes did not veer from the representative's eyes as he spoke. “No,” he said with his head held high. “That was me fulfilling my duty as an officer of the Green Lantern Corps.” “With threats?” said the Skrull. “A Lantern is missing,” replied Sinestro. “Has been missing for a very long time now. Her disappearance is related to the Rannian government. We have asked nicely, we have followed diplomatic protocol time and time again, only to be rebuffed.” “We have released our report to the Council and your Corps,” said the Rannian premier. “But is found lacking,” said Ronan. “It is heavily redacted and the missing Lantern is barely mentioned. Also missing, I might add, is what exactly your navy was doing above Bion that day.” “That was a rogue military maneuver,” said the premier. “I would remind the Council of that, and I would also remind them that the report had to be redacted in the name of Rannian Security.” “It’s more obfuscation,” cried Sinestro. “More games. Does the Council now see why I use threatening words? Sometimes that’s all these people understand.” The premier stood on his feet and began to yell at Sinestro and Sinestro yelled back. The entire Council shouted enmasse and Ronan banged his gavel in a futile attempt to bring things to order. The din was cut short. The conference room fell under an eerie silence. Each person in the room had their mouth covered by a thick green film. All of them except one. Salaak quietly rose and came to the middle of the conference room. “I apologize for my impertinence,” he said with a bow to the Council. “But I would like to ask the premier a question.” He faced the Rannian. The Council continued to make muffle noises from behind their gags. Sinestro stayed quiet and watched. “The Corps have reports that not only was the fleet above Bion that day sanctioned by you and the New Men, but that its purpose was not martial at all. They were on a scientific mission. Is that true?” The film disappeared from the premier’s mouth. “How dare you silence me, do you know what I could-- mmmppp!” “Answer the question,” Salaak said as he made the gag appear back on his mouth. “No!” yelled the premier when his mouth was free. “It was an unauthorized military invasion. Admiral Kaskor took it upon himself to try to expand our territory with his fleet.” Salaak nodded. His dark eyes gave away nothing. He crossed all four of his arms and glanced towards the council before continuing on. “But yet I had a chance to read a Corps report from our science teams," he said. "They came back to the area where the battle with Lantern Cruz occurred a few months later. Even a full Oan year removed from the incident, our team discovered high outputs of ionic energy, high outputs of quantum quarks, and a very dense blanket of hyper accelerated particles. Does any of this mean anything to you, premier?” “No,” he said much too quickly to have even thought it over. “Why should it?” But Sinestro saw that it meant something to members of the Council. They’d stopped their protests and watched on in silence. Salaak even removed their gags, but they had yet to notice they could now speak. “Because,” said Salaak. “All those things I just mentioned? They are just three of the key ingredients to making a portal to the Negative Zone.” “No!” screamed the premier. “We would never violate galactic law like that.” “Prove it,” said Ronan. “Release the unredacted report.” “In the name of Rannian security I cannot do that,” said the premier. “Experimenting with any Negative Zone technology has been outlawed for a whole generation,” said Salaak. “And the consequences of breaking that law are very dire.” “Three fifty-five,” said Sinestro. He looked at the Council before turning to look at the Rannian delegation. “That is a number the GLC will never forget. We lost three hundred and fifty-five Lanterns pushing the Annihilus Wave back into the Negative Zone. The single greatest loss of Lantern life in our history. And now thanks to the hubris of the New Men of Rann he could come back.” More crosstalk between the group. This time, they listened as Ronan banged the gavel. “Let us recess,” said Ronan. “The Council will discuss matters in private. Premier?” “Yes?” “The full report will be released to us to read over in the recess, or you and the people of Rann will suffer the consequences. Am I being clear?” He gulped. “Yes.” “Good.” The Council rose and went to deliberate. The Lanterns were left alone in the room with the Rannian delegation. Sinestro looked in their direction, softly shaking his head. The revelation explained a lot about what went down above Bion and why the Rannians had the stones to go after a Lantern in combat. The fallout of attacking a Lantern were far lesser than being caught with N-Zone tech. But it raised an even bigger question. Where exactly was Jessica Cruz? [hr] [b]Unknown Planet[/b] [b]Unknown Sector[/b] Jess felt good to be wearing pants and shoes. They weren’t in the best condition and their previous owner had probably died in them, but it was clothing all the same. Earlier her two saviors sped her out of the camp while other women in dune buggies raided the encampment. They crossed desert for what felt like hours before finally arriving at another encampment, this one actually showing signs of vegetation and water. The two women kindly but firmly escorted her to a mess hall for food and water. For the first time since Oa she had hot food and cold water. They brought her clothes and boots to change into once she was done. The two women who rescued her deferred to an older woman as she came into the room. She carried no rank insignia, but Jess was pretty sure she was the leader of this place. “Did they touch you?” she asked without preamble. “No,” Jess said after swallowing the food in her mouth. “I just worried,” said the woman. “I mean, you’re an alien and hideous, but they don’t have much in the way of standards.” “Hideous?” Jess asked. “I don't meant offend.” The woman’s eyes fell on Jess’ ring hand. She thought she was going to say something about her swollen and red knuckles, but instead she reached out and traced her fingers along the dead power ring. “I’ve seen this symbol before,” she said. “A long time ago. I don’t know where, though. But not this place.” “And where is this place?” Jess asked. “And what’s going on?” “We’re currently on the edges of the Great Desert. Everything past where you were? Endless desert. So endless those that go into it, either by choice or by force, are never seen again. We’re on the edges of the war here, but the fighting is just as fierce. Let me get a map...” The woman ordered one of the other two women to get a map. Endless desert, thought Jess. Things that went in never came out. But she had, hadn't she? “Our land is embroiled in war, has been since long before we were born. They say the entire world is, but who knows? We barely have contact with those that are on the other side of our realm. The war is multi-sided and messy, but it boils down to two main factions: The Oligarchs and those that serve them, and the Grand Republic. Or what’s left of it.” “Who do you serve?” The woman looked offended. “The Republic, of course. Those cretains we rescued you from? They serve House Doolan, just one of the many oligarchs who horde resources and material for themselves.” One of the women came back in with a rolled up piece of parchment. She unfurled it and laid it on the table in front of them. Jess looked down. She did a double take before she jumped out of her chair and put her hands on her head. “No... no. No. No.” The map on the table in front of her showed over a dozen different territories across a vast land. That was new. What wasn’t new was the shape of the land. She'd seen it time and time again all through school. It was a map of North America. She was on Earth. Just not [i]her[/i] Earth.