I tapped my fingers nervously against the conference room table. The smell of fresh coffee wafted through the air from the carafe in the corner, a small bar set up with all the bells and whistles to treat yourself through a tough workday. A steaming cup of Joe lay near my hand, the heat rather calming. It was the mundane creature comforts of Earth that I'd missed.
Paradoxically, the Flash was not punctual. I'd checked and triple checked the time, glanced through some of Gabriel's reports on Intergang and other related movements, and read through my last message to my father. Anything to keep busy while I waited for the Fastest Man Alive.
I needed to focus on Earth, not sending constant updates to Osmos V and twiddling my thumbs to wait for a response.
I had a goal here, one that I'd need to accomplish before I could shift my attention back to my other home. Barring any interventions from the Reach, Aggregor and Jula would keep things running smoothly until I could return. Hopefully with aid we could turn on our enemies.
The door leading into the meeting chamber opened, revealing the cramped hallway of a seemingly abandoned police precinct. The Flash likely had a true home base somewhere in Central City – maybe even S.T.A.R. Labs if you used the CW show – but I didn't blame them for finding a secondary location. Someone was paying the bill to keep the power on, so maybe this was one of a few safehouses.
What the Flash needed safehouses for to patrol a city he could lap a few dozen times in seconds was beyond me.
The man himself was apologetic – the skin tight scarlet uniform adorned with electric yellow bolts for detailing truly caught the eye. You couldn't miss this man in a room crowded with a hundred people, and I beamed.
"Why so red?"
I'd always wondered. The hero genre began under the era of three color comics, and naturally, the defining costumes of that era were bright, colorful, and unnecessary in a real sense. There was nothing preventing Barry or Wally or Bart or whoever this would turn out to be from wearing black or even civilian clothes to do his job.
The man glanced down at his body and then back toward me. "Oh. It was my, uh, mom's favorite color."
Hmm.
Barry Allen.
Kid Flash? Wally West.
"Why do you wear brown and gold?" the speedster wondered. It wasn't a teasing probe – he genuinely seemed to want to know as he found his seat across from me.
"I lived in a desert most of my life," I explained simply. "For the work I did, camouflage into that environment was important. So I stuck with the color scheme here."
"Sensible." The Flash rapped his knuckles on the table. "And this was on your, uh, home world?"
Hmm. That was a probe, trying to confirm details he thought he knew, that the League thought they knew. The Lanterns would know eventually. "Yes. Not from around this neck of the galaxy."
The man smirked. "Every time I meet an alien, I never know what to expect. You'd think this would be a rare situation for a man in my line of work, but man, it happens often."
I wanted to know more about which one's he'd met, beyond the other heroes, but I'd have to learn later. "I can imagine. Everything I've seen points to Earth being kinda odd. You attract a lot of strange things."
Magic, machines, aliens, cosmic horrors, gods, monsters, time travel – the list went on and on.
"Were you attracted to Earth because of that, too?"
I shook my head. "What have the Green Lanterns told you of the Plumbers?"
"Not a lot – we don't interact too often with outer space, despite what I just said." He chuckled. "Most of our work is on the ground."
I could understand that. Maybe this League had not expanded their horizons. That… frustrated part of my plan to learn, because if this was already the kind of JL that regularly patrolled space? It wouldn't be so difficult to convince them to look into the Reach.
"Well, if the Lanterns are bright, shiny, at the public front of the universe, the Plumbers are in their shadows, operating on the sly, acting in secret. You don't often know about the Plumbers unless you need to know."
"Hmm, that's interesting," the man muttered. "And you're one of them?"
I held up the badge. "Not quite, but it's a long story. I can tell ya now, or wait to share a full briefing to whoever else on your team wants to know."
The man nodded. "Maybe the short version."
I kept it brief, concise, with no unnecessary detail and no outlining exactly the kind of unscrupulous actions I'd had to take during the war. It was clinical, practiced, and anyone with half a brain could tell that I was holding things back, but the speedster did not pry into my business any more than was necessary.
"So, the Plumber for this sector of space brought you here after his investigation of Osmos V ended," the Flash guessed.
"More or less."
Barry looked as though he had a question but bit his tongue, instead shifting topics. "Here now, then. Not the ambassador to the entire world or anything, but welcome to Earth. Hope you enjoy your stay."
The affable tone and disarming smirk? The pointed sidestepping of the consequences of fighting in a war. I could almost believe he trusted me, that he had respect, that he might not question me too harshly. But he was the first in a list of folks I would need to answer to, and I doubted they would all be so keen on acting graciously.
I hadn't acted perfectly in my heroics since arriving here. Property damage, potential political fallout – the list grew each week. The Flash may be willing to put those questions aside, but would the Batman? Would Wonder Woman or Superman?
"I appreciate you helping Kid Flash and Robin," the Flash stated. "I was halfway to Timbuktu when I got the alert, and I couldn't drop everything and get here fast enough to intervene."
Hmmm.
Was he truthful?
He might be.
"How dangerous is this world, really?"
He blinked, surprised.
"The reason I ask is because I've yet to see a member of your League respond to anything I've done since getting here, big or small. There seems to be something happening all the time, something that needs your attention."
When I set out to find the sidekicks and ingratiate myself into their good graces, I expected to meet their mentors working alongside them. When I finally met one, he was masked as a civilian and couldn't assist. Perhaps the greatest hero of them all, stuck in a business suit and pretending to be so drunk getting almost kidnapped didn't phase him.
"Oh! Well, there are a lot of moving pieces to what we do for the people. We also cannot be on duty one hundred percent of the time – some of us have lives, responsibilities that we cannot just abandon every time easily."
I frowned. "So you put aside your heroics to have a coffee date? To have a holiday meal at your parents' place? To… go to work?"
The Flash froze for a second and then leaned back in his chair. "You're gonna get along with the Batman." At my tilt of the head, he continued. "He'll be here soon. He had to check on something in Gotham."
"That's what I'm talking about."
"I, uh, can't say I follow."
"It's been nearly twenty four hours or so. Robin was in Central City, but his superior wasn't?" I tapped my wrist. "He couldn't be here to meet sooner because he was 'checking on something'?" I frowned. "The green archer wasn't with the red archer. Aqualad didn't have Aquaman. Now Robin and Kid Flash?" The situation with Troia was the only one that broke the pattern – it had been coincidence.
"I can't speak for the others," the Flash began, "but Kid Flash and I do nearly daily patrols. Things are a little different when the school year starts in the fall, but he usually doesn't operate without me at his side to help him out, give advice, teach him what he needs to know."
Hmmm. "So it's a coincidence that you just happened to be busy. Aquaman, Green Arrow, Batman, too."
His brow rose, a movement nearly obscured by the mask over the top half of his face. But before he could say anything, a voice cut through the din.
"No more than that it's a coincidence that you happened to meet - and work with - every major League member's protege."
Batman stalked into the conference room and confidently loomed over both of us sitting at the table. The other hero started to stand, but the Dark Knight – good lord is he intimidating – waved his hand. The armor hidden beneath a relatively simple material must work wonders, because this man faced countless attempts to bruise, maim, burn and break his body on a nightly basis. And yet, he persisted.
The banality of this man sitting across from me, decked out in full batsuit, really stood in stark contrast to the impression I had of him from every medium I'd interacted with. Cartoons and comics don't have the art budget to highlight the acne scars that dotted his chin. He had near perfect posture, compared to the Flash who all but had rested his feet on the table.
"Hmm," I began, "there's a reason for that. Do you have a reason for your convenient absences?"
Challenging them had risks. I could be a sycophant and listen to every word they say, shout "Yes, sir," at every opportunity, and follow every order to a T. Ultimately, I decided against it in the long run – mutual respect and willingness to cooperate when earned?
I didn't want to be one of their sidekicks.
The Batman pointedly did not answer my point and instead refocused on the matter at hand. "What did you hope to gain?"
"In what way and with what?"
The man waited a moment. "Let's shift to something simpler. We've reviewed footage and clocked your speeds. Why do you operate in New York?"
I pointed to the Flash. "Why does he stick to Central City?" The speedster set his jaw. "Having a home turf you regularly patrol? Isn't that just how it's done?"
Coast City. Jump City. Gotham. Metropolis. Central City. Fawcett City. And more.
"So you hope to gain the trust of a city?" The Flash suggested.
"More of less," I answered truthfully. "From all the information I've gathered about how you all operate, mimicking that as I start out felt like the right move."
The two of them shared a glance. Batman cleared his throat. "You came to Earth, abandoned your planet during its post-war recovery, and decided to protect an entirely different culture."
It was a solid point.
"The planet is in good hands. I'm just one piece of larger whole there," I admitted. Yes, it was impressive that I had fought Xandros, but Aggregor had a legion of other Gifted, Exceptions, and soldiers with Jula-tech. I was one of many who fought. "I am sure I could emulate what you all do on my homeworld. But, the stories of the Justice League?
"Gabriel told me a lot about you all. Showed news broadcasts." That was not even a lie – he had shown me grainy footage of the Appelaxian invasion, the event that birthed the League. "You inspired me to do the same, to defend the public good and strike down those who harm it. Who better to learn how to do that best than from you all?"
The Flash nodded slightly, hesitantly. "That's certainly an idea."
"You traveled across the galaxy during a crucial point of your planet's modern history. You left loved ones behind. All to learn how to operate as we do?" The Batman's eyes were still. Cold. Calculating.
"You're not wrong that it sounds strange," I admitted, "and truth be told, there are other benefits. Gabriel believes working with you all would be the kind of experience I need to become a Plumber. My planet is not the type to attract Oa's attention."
I was under no illusions that Bruce believed me. That Barry, even, believed me. A partial truth – the Guardians loved to recruit those into the Plumbers who have relevant field experiences. They did seem to have something against my planet, or at least, a reticence to get involved.
The part I did not mention involved the Reach, but I did not wish to put all the cards on the table. If I brokered that point now, I was certain to be ignored. Dismissed. Even if they wanted to help right then, providing the infrastructure to go after the Reach or to assist Osmos V soon would be unlikely to be possible.
The League from JLU? They had fleets of Javelins, space-based weaponry, and at least three dozen more members. That League could do it, could offer assistance, more readily.
"A war-time rebel and mercenary doesn't attract the Plumbers?" The Flash asked.
"Not from Osmos, and not one so young," I grumbled, "but I am older than I look."
Bruce continued as Barry contemplated. "You come all this way to learn from us and immediately question our 'convenient absences'. Why?"
I had an answer. "You should hear the way Gabriel talks about you. He believes in what you all do. The way his stories ended gave me the impression you all were capable of responding to any threat, anywhere." I paused, continuing before they could interrupt. "And you might be! I know things are more complicated than that, but I was beginning to wonder if all the stories were just bunk. Or that you were deliberately ignoring me."
Especially after the nuclear submarine incident.
Bruce did not answer the last point. Instead, his wrist lit up with a small red light. "We will be in touch."
"Wait – that's it?"
The man stood to his feet, and Barry froze as the same warning Bruce just recieved must have sounded in his ear.
"Did you expect us to roll out a red carpet for you?"
I blinked at the Dark Knight. "No, but-"
"Like I said," he began, "we will be in touch."
The man strode from the room, black cape trailing behind him.
Barry zipped to the door in a flurry of wind and came to a sudden stop. "Huh. So… maybe you won't get along."
NEW YORK CITY
JUNE 28, 9:19 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Before my appointment, I ordered a New York style giant pizza, and scarfed it down to eat my feelings. I had not had true pizza until my trip to Central City, and I can't say that it didn't feel nice to finally enjoy a slice or two.
Central Park stretched in front of me from my perch on the high-rise roof. Far below, much farther than I could see to make out details, were tourists and regulars who had no idea the dangers any one of them could be in.
Intergang had a vested interest in me, and these were my stomping grounds. I imagined drones popping up from around corners everywhere I walked to take me down, and I'd been lucky the first time that I had not been alone. I wasn't sure I could have taken on three of them and win, without others to attract their attention.
As bad as it must be for Intergang to target me, I couldn't help but play back the conversation between myself and the two heroes. That was where my anxiety formed, and I don't think it went well. Forthright answers were still not the right play at this stage, but I could have avoided the hostility. My frustration at their willingness to put me as bait, to risk injury or death to the stadium attendees just to draw out associates of Intergang? Those feelings bled into the interaction, and it frustrated the hell out of me.
I knew what I needed to do.
To prove myself to them. To prove I was worthy of trust, worthy of their faith in me. It was one thing to hear about exploits of a war that they had not witnessed. It was another thing entirely to provide concrete examples of what you could bring to the table. Stopping petty crimes, breaking drug deals, and stopping robberies were not going to cut it.
Arms crossed, Gabriel descended to the rooftop on his hoverboard. His snazzy black and white uniform looked every bit the spandex the other heroes of Earth wore so often, the green light on his belt buckle glimmering with the same glow as the energy emissions of the hoverboard. He kicked the side with a practiced foot and dropped to the ground, catching the device in the next moment to shrink it and slide it into his belt buckle.
A moment later, a still-dressed-in-civvies Kyle Rayner landed much less gracefully, and the boy grumbled when his father clicked his fingers and recalled the kid's hoverboard, to slide back into his belt.
Both hastily reached to share the offered box of pizza.
"I suppose flying lessons are going well?"
"No! I mean, yes! They're, uh, awesome!" The kid's cheeks burned.
"They're progressing," Gabriel explained with the terse, frustrated stare of an overstimulated parent.
The kid excitedly pulled up the sleeve of his jacket to reveal a long scar on his wrist that stretched nearly to the elbow. "Hey, hey, look, Cassian. We started!"
I rose an eyebrow to Gabriel. "Which one is this?"
"A biological electricity stabilizer," Gabriel answered before Kyle could. "Assists in the eventual integration of the suit into the nervous system."
"We had to start somewhere," the kid explained, "but I was hoping for a video game HUD over my vision!"
The man started to speak, thought better of it, and then promptly closed his mouth a half-second later.
"I've decided what I want to do next," I said, breaking the moment of hesitation. We'd discussed the merits of Kyle beginning his inheritance of the cybernetic implants at length. It was time to move on.
"What do you have on Whisper A'Daire and Bruno Manheim?"
Kyle did not recognize the names from the tilt of his head, but Gabriel clearly knew something.
"You want to hit them back."
I clenched my fist, the sounds of the busy city below caught on the wind. "It might not be how others would handle it, but I won't be passive. I won't wait for them to fucking hit me."
Gabriel and Kyle both grinned, the former after a moment of consideration.
Intergang, I am coming for you.