mattmanganon
Eddie Brock
Captain Uni
Lord Wraith
Cyberlad
Candy Cane Elf
Love Dove
Oso
Azure Bubbles
AgunimonExactly fourteen hundred hours, seventh rotation of the solar equinox as recorded on the planet Oa. During this duty period, there were 7,187 Green Lanterns patrolling 3,600 sectors. 14,501 parking violations, 976 minor traffic violations, and 1,087 arrests for various offenses. All of which has to be codified into reports. That makes it my problem. My name is Salaak. I carry a ring.
An Interceptor appeared in orbit of Oa.
It was the Sentinel, guided by its artificial intelligence back to the hangars on Oa. To await its orders. Whatever had happened on Scylla, he needed to get to that ship before its programming could be altered. Or its memory wiped.
Turning his head to the side, the Slyggian could make out Green Lantern 2814.2 making his way toward the pre-determined launch position in high polar orbit over Oa.
What was the point of sending Kai-ro off to Scylla if the Sentinel were returning to Oa? As soon as the child got into orbit of the planet, he'd know something was wrong.
Unless he didn't get to Scylla. A trap? The Slyggian worked through the footage he'd seen. The scarred Guardian had put her hands on Kai-ro's ring.
His eyes looking left, then looking right, the Slyggian looked at where the Sentinel was docking in one of the Science Division hangars. And, on the other side of the world, Kai-ro was powering up for the jump to lightspeed.
"Damn."
Things were happening too fast. Glancing over at one of the dispatchers, Salaak signaled the other Lantern. "Take over for me," the Slyggian ordered curtly, even as he started to descend from the raised dias from which he lorded over the galactic operations center. "I'm going to get my meal," the veteran Green Lantern offered by way of explanation.
A lie. But one thought would easily buy him an hour in which no one was at least nominally looking for him.
"Clarissi, the Science Director requests your presence."
The request stopped the Slyggian in his tracks. His eyes darted to the monitors. Kai-ro was no longer in orbit of Oa.
"Damn."
What could he do? Refuse? That would draw too much attention, and do nothing to help anyone. Turning, the Slyggian gave a nod of acknowledgment. "Lunch will wait. Tell the Director I'll be there immediately."
He stepped into the Science Director's private office.
All things considered, it may have well been named the Legion of Doom. Turning his head, Salaak waited and watched as the door shut behind him. Then he just stood there, his eyes piercing daggers toward the diminutive blue devil who lounged behind a red and white robe.
"Clarissi Salaak," the scarred Guardian remarked, rising from out of her seat as though genuinely pleased to see him. Walking toward him, the woman tucked her arms into her sleeves as she added, "This may be the first time we've spoken since your promotion. A belated congratulations on your continued success for our Corps."
The Slyggian just gave a hollow-sounding grunt. "I see no reason to maintain this fallacy," the Lantern intoned pointedly, looking down at the woman. "I've disabled the ability of yours to record my speech or actions through my ring, as you have done the same in your office."
The smile fell from the woman's face. "Your candor is the least of your admittedly lackluster attributes." Turning away, she paused a moment before looking back. "Do you not acknowledge your superiors? Have I not earned my status as Guardian?"
Another grunt, this one half a laugh at the suggestion. "Forgive me if I do not bend a knee," Salaak quipped back dryly. "Arthritis you know."
"Actually, I don't," the woman answered sweetly. The smile returned. A Cheshire grin, like the devil's own. "Enlighten me. What is it like to be mortal? The bones becoming brittle, the flesh becoming weak, the mind... fading."
The Slyggian merely inclined his head. "Tell me, how old must one become before their soul rots from the inside?"
The smile faded. Just a bit, but noticeable. "Ha!" the woman scoffed, giving a dismissive gesture as she said, "You think in such small terms. You should read more. Expand your mind."
The Slyggian did take a moment to appreciate that she was, at least, someone who took her own advice. There were bound tomes from every conceivable culture dotting the landscape of the office. Bending down, Salaak picked up a random one whose typeface was in a language he didn't recognize.
On a guess, he turned the book to face out toward the woman, as he asked, "The human poet you quoted earlier, perhaps?"
The edges of the smile quivered. He'd struck a nerve.
"I should have you reported for stalking," the Guardian noted coldly. "And, no. That's Milton. You should take it. A mind like yours might appreciate the wisdom in it."
"Perhaps there is some other wisdom you called me here to receive?" Salaak offered snidely, discarding the human book. He was growing impatient. And, at least in the present circumstance, not afraid to show it.
Making her way over to a sidetable, the Guardian pulled down a decanter and a glass. "I thought after that little incident on Xabas that we had reached an understanding," the woman noted, pouring herself a sniffer of some kind of amber-colored liquor. As she put the decanter away, she added, "That's why I supported you when you left that horrible Abin Sur behind and came to work on Oa."
Through gritted teeth, the Slyggian deadpanned, "You've no idea what that support means to me."
Ignoring the jab, the woman casually turned toward him, swirling the liquor around in the glass. "I'm perfectly content to wait you out, Salaak. I've nothing but time on my side," the Guardian noted in the same brutally detached manner as before. Pausing, she continued. "But whenever your associates challenge my agenda, I'm forced to have to push my schedule up. And that will cost you," she noted, taking a delicate sip of the brandy. Lowering the sniffer back down, she added, "I thought that was a lesson you'd learned by now."
Now she'd struck a nerve. Bristling, the Slyggian stiffly noted, "Is that what you thought murdering Ch'p was going to achieve? Teach me a lesson?"
The woman just stared back at him, as though on the verge of laughter. "You think far too highly of your own importance," the Guardian answered candidly. Swirling the brandy around in the glass, the woman reclined back into an oversized loveseat. "Oh, and see about sending someone to go fetch 2814.2's ring... would you?"
If he was half the Green Lantern that Abin Sur had been, Salaak would be testing the limits of that supposed immortality that the Guardians possessed. "He's just a boy."
"Yes, he was."
The Slyggian just stared coldly at the scarred woman. His hands balled into fists as a cold rage seethed through his body. His thumb was brushing against the ring on his finger.
The two were sizing one another up. A showdown inside her office was not going to end well for Salaak, no matter what the outcome of that fight might be.
To be honest, Salaak would be lying if he said he wasn't tempted to try it anyway.
The moment came... and went. Neither made a move. Instead, the scarred Guardian sipped brandy even as she boasted the murder of a child. "This is business, Salaak. You're either my customer... or my competition." Setting the sniffer glass over on the coffee table, the woman rose back to her feet and walked over toward the Slyggian. "I'd been content, to this point, in letting you linger but now I really must insist that you decide which it is going to be."
"Business was never my forté."
"Amusing," the woman said. Clearly it wasn't. Turning, she made her way back toward the loveseat. "I need your resignation," the scarred Guardian declared, dropping back into her seat and reaching over to pick up her glass of brandy. "Tender it and I can ensure that your retirement is one of luxury..."
The door to the office breezed open, permitting the passage of another diminutive Guardian entry. "Have you seen this report on Tamaran..." Appa Ali Apsa was remarked, before he looked up and realized that Salaak was there. "What is going on here?" the Guardian demanded.
An avenue of escape. "The Science Director was just giving me an assignment," Salaak offered smoothly. He was thinking on his feet, but he'd dare the Science Director to contradict him.
She was the one who called him here, after all.
"An exploratory mission toward the Vega System. Due to the sensitivities, she felt it necessary for me to observe the work personally," Salaak remarked, turning his head to look over toward the woman.
To her credit, she just inclined her head toward him.
It also worked to get Appa's attention off of him. "Why was I not consulted about this?" the man demanded, turning toward the scarred Guardian.
"As he said, it's an exploratory survey," the woman answered calmly, adding, "I, for one, was not aware that matters under the jurisdiction of the Science Division were under your purview."
"Hmph." Appa huffed, before turning back toward the Slyggian. "Leave us."
Bowing slightly, Salaak uttered the obligatory, "Guardians," as he proceeded back out the door of the science lab.
He got four steps down the hall before he could be certain that the door had closed behind him, then his ring activated as the Slyggian made a run for it.
G R E E N L A N T E R N
"Orphan's Lament" [ Part I ] [ The Scarred Guardian ]An Interceptor appeared in orbit of Oa.
It was the Sentinel, guided by its artificial intelligence back to the hangars on Oa. To await its orders. Whatever had happened on Scylla, he needed to get to that ship before its programming could be altered. Or its memory wiped.
Turning his head to the side, the Slyggian could make out Green Lantern 2814.2 making his way toward the pre-determined launch position in high polar orbit over Oa.
What was the point of sending Kai-ro off to Scylla if the Sentinel were returning to Oa? As soon as the child got into orbit of the planet, he'd know something was wrong.
Unless he didn't get to Scylla. A trap? The Slyggian worked through the footage he'd seen. The scarred Guardian had put her hands on Kai-ro's ring.
His eyes looking left, then looking right, the Slyggian looked at where the Sentinel was docking in one of the Science Division hangars. And, on the other side of the world, Kai-ro was powering up for the jump to lightspeed.
"Damn."
Things were happening too fast. Glancing over at one of the dispatchers, Salaak signaled the other Lantern. "Take over for me," the Slyggian ordered curtly, even as he started to descend from the raised dias from which he lorded over the galactic operations center. "I'm going to get my meal," the veteran Green Lantern offered by way of explanation.
A lie. But one thought would easily buy him an hour in which no one was at least nominally looking for him.
"Clarissi, the Science Director requests your presence."
The request stopped the Slyggian in his tracks. His eyes darted to the monitors. Kai-ro was no longer in orbit of Oa.
"Damn."
What could he do? Refuse? That would draw too much attention, and do nothing to help anyone. Turning, the Slyggian gave a nod of acknowledgment. "Lunch will wait. Tell the Director I'll be there immediately."
He stepped into the Science Director's private office.
All things considered, it may have well been named the Legion of Doom. Turning his head, Salaak waited and watched as the door shut behind him. Then he just stood there, his eyes piercing daggers toward the diminutive blue devil who lounged behind a red and white robe.
"Clarissi Salaak," the scarred Guardian remarked, rising from out of her seat as though genuinely pleased to see him. Walking toward him, the woman tucked her arms into her sleeves as she added, "This may be the first time we've spoken since your promotion. A belated congratulations on your continued success for our Corps."
The Slyggian just gave a hollow-sounding grunt. "I see no reason to maintain this fallacy," the Lantern intoned pointedly, looking down at the woman. "I've disabled the ability of yours to record my speech or actions through my ring, as you have done the same in your office."
The smile fell from the woman's face. "Your candor is the least of your admittedly lackluster attributes." Turning away, she paused a moment before looking back. "Do you not acknowledge your superiors? Have I not earned my status as Guardian?"
Another grunt, this one half a laugh at the suggestion. "Forgive me if I do not bend a knee," Salaak quipped back dryly. "Arthritis you know."
"Actually, I don't," the woman answered sweetly. The smile returned. A Cheshire grin, like the devil's own. "Enlighten me. What is it like to be mortal? The bones becoming brittle, the flesh becoming weak, the mind... fading."
The Slyggian merely inclined his head. "Tell me, how old must one become before their soul rots from the inside?"
The smile faded. Just a bit, but noticeable. "Ha!" the woman scoffed, giving a dismissive gesture as she said, "You think in such small terms. You should read more. Expand your mind."
The Slyggian did take a moment to appreciate that she was, at least, someone who took her own advice. There were bound tomes from every conceivable culture dotting the landscape of the office. Bending down, Salaak picked up a random one whose typeface was in a language he didn't recognize.
On a guess, he turned the book to face out toward the woman, as he asked, "The human poet you quoted earlier, perhaps?"
The edges of the smile quivered. He'd struck a nerve.
"I should have you reported for stalking," the Guardian noted coldly. "And, no. That's Milton. You should take it. A mind like yours might appreciate the wisdom in it."
"Perhaps there is some other wisdom you called me here to receive?" Salaak offered snidely, discarding the human book. He was growing impatient. And, at least in the present circumstance, not afraid to show it.
Making her way over to a sidetable, the Guardian pulled down a decanter and a glass. "I thought after that little incident on Xabas that we had reached an understanding," the woman noted, pouring herself a sniffer of some kind of amber-colored liquor. As she put the decanter away, she added, "That's why I supported you when you left that horrible Abin Sur behind and came to work on Oa."
Through gritted teeth, the Slyggian deadpanned, "You've no idea what that support means to me."
Ignoring the jab, the woman casually turned toward him, swirling the liquor around in the glass. "I'm perfectly content to wait you out, Salaak. I've nothing but time on my side," the Guardian noted in the same brutally detached manner as before. Pausing, she continued. "But whenever your associates challenge my agenda, I'm forced to have to push my schedule up. And that will cost you," she noted, taking a delicate sip of the brandy. Lowering the sniffer back down, she added, "I thought that was a lesson you'd learned by now."
Now she'd struck a nerve. Bristling, the Slyggian stiffly noted, "Is that what you thought murdering Ch'p was going to achieve? Teach me a lesson?"
The woman just stared back at him, as though on the verge of laughter. "You think far too highly of your own importance," the Guardian answered candidly. Swirling the brandy around in the glass, the woman reclined back into an oversized loveseat. "Oh, and see about sending someone to go fetch 2814.2's ring... would you?"
If he was half the Green Lantern that Abin Sur had been, Salaak would be testing the limits of that supposed immortality that the Guardians possessed. "He's just a boy."
"Yes, he was."
The Slyggian just stared coldly at the scarred woman. His hands balled into fists as a cold rage seethed through his body. His thumb was brushing against the ring on his finger.
The two were sizing one another up. A showdown inside her office was not going to end well for Salaak, no matter what the outcome of that fight might be.
To be honest, Salaak would be lying if he said he wasn't tempted to try it anyway.
The moment came... and went. Neither made a move. Instead, the scarred Guardian sipped brandy even as she boasted the murder of a child. "This is business, Salaak. You're either my customer... or my competition." Setting the sniffer glass over on the coffee table, the woman rose back to her feet and walked over toward the Slyggian. "I'd been content, to this point, in letting you linger but now I really must insist that you decide which it is going to be."
"Business was never my forté."
"Amusing," the woman said. Clearly it wasn't. Turning, she made her way back toward the loveseat. "I need your resignation," the scarred Guardian declared, dropping back into her seat and reaching over to pick up her glass of brandy. "Tender it and I can ensure that your retirement is one of luxury..."
The door to the office breezed open, permitting the passage of another diminutive Guardian entry. "Have you seen this report on Tamaran..." Appa Ali Apsa was remarked, before he looked up and realized that Salaak was there. "What is going on here?" the Guardian demanded.
An avenue of escape. "The Science Director was just giving me an assignment," Salaak offered smoothly. He was thinking on his feet, but he'd dare the Science Director to contradict him.
She was the one who called him here, after all.
"An exploratory mission toward the Vega System. Due to the sensitivities, she felt it necessary for me to observe the work personally," Salaak remarked, turning his head to look over toward the woman.
To her credit, she just inclined her head toward him.
It also worked to get Appa's attention off of him. "Why was I not consulted about this?" the man demanded, turning toward the scarred Guardian.
"As he said, it's an exploratory survey," the woman answered calmly, adding, "I, for one, was not aware that matters under the jurisdiction of the Science Division were under your purview."
"Hmph." Appa huffed, before turning back toward the Slyggian. "Leave us."
Bowing slightly, Salaak uttered the obligatory, "Guardians," as he proceeded back out the door of the science lab.
He got four steps down the hall before he could be certain that the door had closed behind him, then his ring activated as the Slyggian made a run for it.
