The Gold Corps: Genesis: The Boy Who Was Afraid

Okay, just an idea that kept running around inside my head. See what you think.

If anybody reading this is really under the impression that I own, or think I own, the Green Lantern Corps, Young Justice, or the Justice League, I have $26 million in Ugandan funds I'd like to launder through you.

The only thing he'd ever known was fear.

The youngster had never known any other home but the crashed spaceship he'd found himself living on. Like anyone else in similar predicaments, he simply took it for granted. This was the way everyone lived. Not that he knew anyone else, of course.

The ship's computer, tied into its life support function, had, following the last instructions given it, raised and cared for him as best it could. When he began to question his origins, and how he found himself here, alone, it had, in its mechanical innocence, taken him to the bones of his parents, and explained the relationship.

It had been a tremendous blow to the young man's psyche. He was alone in the universe. Although the remnant of the self-powered ship he lived on could answer his questions, at least as far as mere facts went, it was not, could not be, a substitute for a living presence.

But the ship had taught him what happened to those beings who did not learn to survive, and had taught him basic survival techniques, most of which largely boiled down to identifying major threats to his life and terminating them with extreme prejudice.

Nobody had ever told him that killing was wrong (or right, for that matter), and, from what he could see and judge for himself, in the environment he found himself, it was simply the way things worked. Either you killed them, or they killed you.

In the crash that had marooned him on this planet, some of the computer files had been damaged. Some files were incomplete. But the ship had included many language files, and had taught him many different tongues, although it had never made it clear just what he'd need them for. After all, there was nobody to talk to.

Nobody but the computer.

At one point, however, he came to understand the need for a means of self-designation. What to call himself? Somehow, it seemed important.

A little research. Names. Names were means of self-designation, often following from one's genetic bloodline, or family, as the term went. An economical term, he felt.

So what had his family called themselves? Another search of the computer files: Rok had been his family name. All the members in his family had shared this name. It was a good, solid sounding name, and he liked it.

But with that knowledge came another bit of information, more deduced that provided: if there were other people called Rok, that meant there were others related to him—somewhere. But where? Certainly not here.

But if there were others, scattered throughout the cosmos, known by the surname of Rok, then simply calling himself that would be insufficient. He needed a way to make his means of self-designation unique, rather like giving a computer file a distinctive name. By what distinctive name would he be known?

If, indeed, he was ever to be known to anyone else, anywhere else, ever.

He found a growing need for the company of others in himself. He didn't really understand the concept of loneliness, as his own company was all he'd ever known, but he was discovering that just his own company was insufficient. He found himself wanting to find someone else to talk to, someone not a computer, but a living being, one who could truly think and respond.

One thing his unplanned stay on this planet had taught him: be prepared. Besides, it couldn't hurt to have an individual name. So he instructed the computer to begin compiling a list of suitable names for himself.

…..Agnon

Aidus

Aldren

Amen

Athen

Aton…..

No, no, no. None of those interested him. Besides, this was taking too long. He didn't have a lot of patience, and, in truth, the rationale for this process was something that made him a little uncomfortable. What, really, would he ever need a name for, anyway? He instructed the computer to narrow the list down to those names suitable for males. Keep this short, and he could get back to matters of surviving.

Damen

Doldren

Donen

Dorien

No, no, no. Still nothing. He focused on his peripheral defenses while the names scrolled up the viewscreen. After all, one could never be too careful, on a planet where the carnivores were larger and more powerful than you. The only advantage he had, aside the haven of the destroyed ship, was his brain, and his wits.

Raben

Raden

Ragen

Ragnar

Rodan

Robnon

Rugin

Wait. What was that one, there, the fourth one down? Ragnar? Hm, he though, Ragnar Rok. Not a bad sounding name. Very well; he would be "Ragnar Rok." In, he told himself with just a twinge of despondency, the unlikelihood of his ever having to use it…

Thus having made a decision, and after having assured himself that his defenses were in place and functioning properly, he retired to his bunk and went to sleep.

In his sleep, he dreamed wistfully about meeting others like himself, but he couldn't imagine what they'd be like. He barely knew what he himself was like, let alone what someone else would be like. But in his dreams, he met people like himself, with the same likes and dislikes, and with whom he could just….talk.

And the loneliness that he was feeling brought forth a new fear: the fear that he would always be alone, would never find anyone else like him. Was he destined to live out his entire life alone?

The fear within him grew.

…

Then the fateful day came when he was out hunting. His ship (though, in truth, he thought of it more as "home" than "ship") could not synthesize all his needs. So on this day, he ventured a little farther than he previously had, his curiosity overcoming his fear.

But now he determined that he'd be unable to make it back home before nightfall. So, in accordance with the teachings of his ship's computer, he found a cave to hole up in, and started a fire, being careful to keep his back to the mountainside.

The first of the pack running predators showed up just before full dark.

He'd already prepared several torches, as well as a supply of throwing rocks, and it was with these he managed to keep the night-running predators at bay. He picked up a torch, and, lighting it, dared to step out just slightly from the rock wall, waving it back and forth, using their fear to keep them away. He was under no illusions as to how he would fair, should they get close enough to where they could use their teeth on him. He, himself, possessed no natural weapons as they did.

It wasn't going well. He'd miscalculated the number in the pack, and had long since exhausted his supply of throwing missiles. He was keeping them at bay, but he was down to his last remaining two torches when something fell from the sky with the speed of a meteor. The predators, who had been about to tear into him, fell back before this new fire from the sky.

Rather than falling straight to the ground, the object slowed and came to a halt right in front of him, hovering momentarily in mid-air.

He stared in amazement. It was a ring, a yellow ring, perfectly sized to fit his own middle finger. "Ragnar Rok," said a voice in his mind, "You have the ability to instill great fear. Welcome to the Sinestro Corps."

…..

The Blackest Night was over, the Black Lantern Corps defeated. Earth was beginning to get back to normal, or as normal as it ever got. Lex Luthor had begun his hunt for black power rings, and so far, thankfully, had not had any luck.

The Justice League had reconvened at the Watchtower. They were minus a few members, notably one Dark Knight, and everyone felt the loss.

In addition to the regular core members, they had called in all members, and even invited in the team of Young Justice, since so many of them had functioned as adjuncts to the older, more established heroes.

"All right," began J'onn J'onzz, seated at the head of the table, "Damage report. Anyone?"

"Casualty count in the extremes," Wonder Woman's voice was somber. "It would be hard to imagine a more catastrophic occurrence, this side of a thermonuclear war. We've got thousands dead, in the very least, but at least the resurrected dead seemed to be confined to those possessing powers of some sort or another. Or, or other attributes, such as association with the superhuman community."

"True," interjected Hal Jordan. J'onn J'onzz reflected on how fortunate Earth was, to have not one, not two, but three bona fide Green Lanterns on staff. Of course, Guy Gardner was back on Oa for "retraining" (and he doubted little but that had something to do with Gardner's exposure to the red power ring), but that still left them with two: Hal Jordan and John Stewart. Considering that most sectors had to make do with only one, the Martian Manhunter felt Earth to be especially blessed. Although, considering how completely logical and omniscient the Guardians were, however, he wondered if he should be all that reassured by that fact. "Not all the resurrected actually had super powers, but all were associated with us to one degree or another. That won't make the cleanup any easier, of course; if anything, it'll be worse."

"But if everyone who'd ever died had come back as a Black Lantern, matters would be inestimably worse. Hal? John? Based on what you know, how likely is this sort of thing to happen again?"

John Stewart spoke up, after glancing at Hal. "I think it safe to say, highly unlikely. Nekron was defeated, and sealed back in his dimension. Tactically speaking, it wouldn't make much sense for him to try the same approach again."

"J'onn?" Nightwing spoke up, from his seat by Con-El, Young Justice's Superboy. "There's one thing I hear everybody talking around, but nobody's come out and said it. If all those associated with us were brought back to life by the black power rings, where was-*"

"Batman? You aren't the first to ask that. Well, what of it? Hal, John…would there be some reason for Batman to not have been resurrected along with all the rest?"

"None I can think of. But remember: we misspoke—slightly—earlier when we said that all those who were resurrected were associated with us. Don Hall, the original Dove, wasn't."

"Hm. Were there any others? That anyone knows of? No? We need to find out why Don Hall wasn't restored to life, if that's the word. But I think it safe to say that Don Hall and Batman were nothing alike."

"Don't be so sure. Both were, when push came to shove, people who put their lives on the line to save others."

"But the same could be said of many others who were brought back. The bottom line, as the Earth saying goes, is that, based on what we currently know, there are only two possible reasons why there was no Black Lantern Batman. One, he shared some characteristic with Don Hall, and therefore was not resurrected, or…" He paused. "I'll delegate you into researching that, since you probably knew him better than anyone else." Here, he stopped and gave Wonder Woman a glance; she studiously avoided it. "Unless there's someone here who feels better qualified?" No one else spoke up.

Superboy nudged Nightwing. "Now see what you've gotten us into?" he whispered.

"Oh, shuttup."

…

Mt. Justice: Nightwing was reviewing his files on Batman, what few there were. Batman had always been uneasy about anyone—even a trusted associate—having access to much information on him. Ironic, considering that he had files on a great many people that would've made most government agencies feel like slackers. Grayson smiled slightly. Bruce? I wonder what that says about you. Actually, what it said was a no-brainer: knowledge is power. Batman even had an extensive file on the Green Lantern Corps. Not just the Green Lanterns assigned to Earth; the entire Corps. Dick wondered how he'd managed that, seeing as how the Guardians were an extraterrestrial organization…

"Dick?" Kid Flash had come up beside him. Nightwing hurriedly closed the files he was perusing, but it was clear, from his demeanor, that Wally hadn't even bothered to look at them.

Of course, Nightwing reminded himself, this was Kid Flash. He could've been examining them for a whole second—anyone else's equivalent of an hour—before he'd spoken up. Have to tighten up, thought Nightwing. Can't have anybody—even a colleague—sneaking up on me. Something about that thought rang a subconscious bell, but he didn't pursue it at that time. "Yeah, Wally? What's on your mind?"

"It's this thing with, with Nekron." Kid Flash paused, clearly unsure how to continue. "I mean, those—things, with the black rings—they were our friends. But, but they came back as our worst nightmares. They killed some of us, Dick! I mean, yeah, you can argue they weren't themselves, but, but…." Dick waited for Wally to gather his thoughts. He thought he could see where this was going. "I mean, when we die—are we gonna end up like that? Not with the rings, I mean, but, but…monsters, like they were?"

Grayson thought about his reply. After all, he could tell this was important. And, yeah, it was important to him, too. It was a subject he'd given some thought to. "Wally….I don't think so. What came back to attack us….I can't really believe those were really our friends. I mean, Kal-L? Garth, and all the others in the Titans? Not to mention the Justice League? Those just plain weren't the people we knew. They just weren't. At least, I can't believe that. Remember, Deadman also came back, or at least the man he'd been before he died…but it still wasn't him.

"So, no, I don't think that's what awaits us on the other side, if that's what you're asking."

Wally was visibly relieved. "Thanks, Rob. Uh, I mean, Nightwing. Yeah, that's really what I was wanting to know. I—I don't wanna be like that. I mean, even without the heart-eating business, I, I just don't wanna be like…what they were." He paused. "So…what were those things? I mean, they knew stuff about us…"

"Been giving that some thought myself." Nightwing leaned back in his chair. "Best I can come up with is, they were, like, copies of people who'd died. Of course, it was really Nekron talking through them—sorta like ventriloquism, but the knowledge, the information they possessed, about us,…I think it came about as a part of the copying process. Remember, there is such as thing as memory RNA, whereby one person's memories can be transferred to another. Besides, some of the ones who came back had been dead for so long, or died in such ways, that there wouldn't have been much left. The rings had to've recreated them, at least, in part—and they recreated them deliberately to correspond with our current conception of 'zombies.' But personality wise, those clearly weren't our friends. And really, what we call the soul is more involved with personality than with mere memory. That is what you're asking, isn't it?"

"Yeah. I. I mean, it almost sounded like—well, it did sound like—that when we die, we automatically go to a kind of hell. Nekron's hell. I guess that had me, well, worried."

"Well, just remember: those weren't our friends. They may have looked like our friends, they may have sounded like our friends—but they weren't."

"Thanks, Dick."

….

Ragnar sat, his yellow and black uniform gleaming, on a small asteroid, watching the myriad stars swirl around him. He didn't wonder what there was to fear out there, anymore. He knew.

There was loss of purpose.

He'd been a soldier, but the war was over. He'd caught a few whispers of it on his ring, but had not had the good fortune to actually see combat. A few times, he'd found a planet with intelligent lifeforms on it, and he'd tried to teach them the Lesson of Fear, but most of the time, he didn't feel he'd been very successful. Most of them simply ran away. He guessed he could count that as a kind of victory.

The lesson of hunger is to satisfy the hunger, so that one will not be hungry. The Lesson of Fear is to be strong, to be careful, and, if the need arose, to be merciless, so you do not have to be afraid. Make them fear you. It was really a very simple message.

And their fear had empowered him. He liked being empowered. It made him strong, so he did not have to fear. One had to look after one's own needs, after all, even as he went about the cosmos spreading his gospel of fear.

Where to go now? He wasn't sure. But surely, surely inspiration would come to him.

….

"So…whaddayou think?" John Stewart asked Hal Jordan. The meeting had been adjourned, and the two had left, moving on down the circular hallway towards the rec room. Both of them felt the need for a snack.

"'Bout what?"

"Why hasn't Batman come back? I mean, why didn't he?"

Hal sipped his coffee. Due to the wide variety of people the commissary served, and the fact that it was located in outer space, a hostile environment that unnerved a good many people, the necessity existed to make certain accommodations: the equipment was above par. The coffee was just like he liked it: hot, black, and stout enough to stand a spoon up in without it touching the sides of the cup. Stewart's question had been one he'd thought about, even before it had come up in the general assembly. "Honestly? I don't have a clue. I really don't see any similarity between Batman and Don Hall." He paused, sipping his coffee. "Though I think most people are of the opinion that he wasn't resurrected for the best of reasons: he's not dead."

"But we saw the body."

"We saw a body." Again a pause. "Bruce is a survivor. I can think of a lot of reasons why a guy like Batman—or any of us, for that matter—might find it convenient to fake his death. Can't you?"

"Yeah, but it still seems like he should've left like, a forwarding address or something. I mean, suppose we needed him for something? Or he needed us?" The two moved away from the countertop and sat at a table over by a large viewscreen that gave the illusion of a window. The stars they were sworn to protect glistened and gleamed outside.

"I think the whole point of faking his own death—if that's what happened, you understand, was to get away from all that. As for him needing us, I can't think of anybody who could take care of themselves better than Bruce. Still, I admit, it's a mystery. He'd have to have gone to a lot of trouble—probably not all of it strictly legal—to have made up the whole thing, fake corpse, etc."

"Well, it's just—*" But at that moment, John's comment was interrupted by a chime from Hal's ring. Startled, Jordan pulled up his ring up in front of his face. "Uhm, yes?"

A green hologram sprang from the ring, showing the head and shoulders of an incredibly cute blond haired girl with short hair, elfin features and pointed ears."Hal? This is Arisia." Jordan winced, slightly. He and the blond GL known as Arisia had…a bit of a history. Not exactly a pleasant one, either. He still regretted his part in it. But they were at least cordial, towards each other.

Many years ago, during a shakeup in the Green Lantern Corps, a young Arisia Raab, then about a biological age of fourteen or fifteen, had followed Hal to Earth, along with some other Green Lanterns, forming a kind of mini-corps. Hal hadn't been aware of it, but Arisia had had a bit of a crush on him, and had subconsciously used her power ring to artificially age her into a young adult. Certain circumstances had happened, and they'd developed mutual feelings for each other, becoming, for a time, an item. But what Hal had forgotten (or, rather, as he told himself, rather severely, what he'd allowed himself to forget) was that, although biologically an adult, Arisia simply hadn't had the life experiences that produce true maturity.

So, in his own short-sighted way, he'd become one of those life experiences. True, they'd remained friends, and for that he was thankful, but he still wanted to kick his own ass, sometimes. For a Green Lantern, that isn't impossible. "Hal Jordan here. What's going on, Arisia?"

"We followed the trail of a Sinestro Corps member right into your back yard. We lost the trail around Jupiter—the radiation belts interfered with our rings—but there's no outgoing trail. That means he's still there. Just thought you should know."

"Thanks, Arisia. Yeah, that is good to know. Last thing we need is a leftover Sinestro-er mucking things up. We'll be on our guard." He started to open his mouth to close the conversation, when the blond-headed girl's ring-hologram spoke up again. "How've you been, Hal?" There was an expression of concern on her elfin features. It caught him off-guard.

But then, she always was good at doing that, he thought with a private smile. "Oh, pretty good. The Black Lanterns hit us hard. Earth's a mess. Lotta damage control. But that's what we're here for."

"Yeah, I know about the Black Lanterns, that was awful. And I heard that Earth seemed to catch the worst of it…but Hal, how have you been?" As before, the question caught him totally off guard. "Huh?"

"Are you okay? I mean, I heard a lot of people got killed, and all about the destruction. I mean…" She trailed off, not really sure how to put into words what she was trying to say.

But he could guess at least some of what she was trying to say: Are you hurt? Did you lose anyone close to you? And perhaps something he felt he really had no right to hear: Can I help you? "Yeah, Arisia, I'm okay. No major bones broken. But we're all licking our wounds in one way or another. Many of us lost people. You remember Bob? The reporter?"

"Yes? Don't tell me he-*"

"I'm afraid so. He had a family, too. Of course, the league is setting them up, but no way can we replace their loss. I," he paused, emotion echoing in his voice through his self-control, "I, I don't even like to think what his kids are going through."

"That's terrible. Those poor people. Can anything be done?"

Hal rubbed his eyes tiredly through his mask. "We're doing all we can. But, of course…we can't do everything. Sometimes…sometimes I feel like we can't do anything." Now where had that come from? He hadn't intended to get this deep with his former girlfriend.

"You know you do more than you realize, Hal. Just because you keep on doing it means you know, on some level. But you need to take care of yourself, too. You can't help others if you wear yourself out, and I know you have a tendency to do that."

"Yes, mother."

"I'll 'yes, mother' you, comet-brain, if you don't behave. Well, I have to go, but I'll be back through this way soon. Maybe we should go by and see Bob's family? If they remember me, I mean."

"I'm sure they do, 'Risia. You're hard to forget." As I know from experience.

The green-tinted hologram springing up from his ring stuck her tongue out at him. "Oh, do behave. But I do have to go. But promise me that you'll call me if you need anything, okay?"

He sighed. "Okay. I promise." With his fingers crossed behind his back.

"Good. Now uncross your fingers and say that again."

"Arisia!"

"I know you, Hal. Now do it!"

"Okay, okay. See?" He held up both sets of fingers into the green glow. "No crossed fingers." John Stewart chuckled.

After she'd closed the connection, Hal noticed John's smirk. "Still something there, Hal."

"John, I'd…appreciate it if you never said that again. I basically took advantage of a minor, or the equivalent of. That's something I can never allow myself to forget. I just hope she can…heal."

"Sounds like she's coping well. She's seeing Sodam Yat these days, isn't she?"

"Yeah. Good man. One of the best GL's we've got. I couldn't have picked a better choice for her myself."

"Well, anyway, getting back on topic…"

Deep within the swirling gas clouds of the largest planet in this solar system, Ragnar watched carefully as the green ones flew overhead. He didn't know for a fact who they were, having never encountered such beings before, but he did know three things right off: one, they were intelligent beings. Two, they wielded power rings like he did, albeit those rings seemed to work on a slightly different principle. And three, they were hunting him.

He normally took extreme displeasure at being hunted, but these were the first intelligent beings he'd ever seen. The golden one in particular attracted his interest: he'd never seen anything quite like her before. And these intelligent beings used communication of some sort. So maybe simply killing them wasn't the way to go.

But he still had to discourage them from following him. So he cast around for a suitable trap.

There: an asteroid belt not far from his current location. That would do.

Swiftly, he teleported himself to the asteroid belt. The green hunters, alerted by his usage of his power ring, followed him in, just like he'd planned. Perhaps they felt secure in their numbers. He smiled a feral grin. He could do something about that.

But they weren't totally ignorant of tactics, either. The golden one moved into the asteroid belt, while the other two hung back, no doubt ready to charge in once the quarry had been located, and the trap sprung.

So he blasted her from behind, just like she'd no doubt expected him to, and immediately moved to another position.

"Arisia!" Salnor K called out, as he and Vol moved forward to her aid. Their rings examined her unconscious form; she was unharmed. But where was-*

And Ragnar obligingly blasted them from the concealment of a large asteroid, where he'd been watching.

But they were ready, and quickly threw up forcefields, returning fire. But in so doing, they were distracted, and didn't see the large asteroid he'd set tumbling towards their position moments before. Even as they trained their rings on the approaching threat, they again got hit from behind by beams of yellow energy.

Floating there in space, Ragar examined the unconscious forms before him. Two of them were very strange, completely unlike anything in his admittedly limited experience, but they followed the basic model: one head, two arms, two legs. But the golden one…

She was unlike anything in his experience. Instinctively, he knew she was different from him, different on some fundamental level he couldn't identify. And she used communication. That was interesting. That was very interesting.

Normally, he'd just kill those who were hunting him, no matter what they were, but, in this instance, he stayed his hand. Perhaps he'd taught them his Lesson of Fear, and they would no longer hunt him. And perhaps, since they used communication, spread the word that he was not to be hunted.

But the golden one still fascinated him. He needed to know more. So he brought his ring up to hers, touched the symbols together, and willed a connection between the two. There. Now he had a secure tap on her ring's communication system, especially when she was afraid. Now he'd be able to hear and see what she was hearing and seeing. Good.

Perhaps, in time, he might return, to see if they'd learned their Lesson of Fear. If they hadn't, he could always teach it again.

Now where to?

….

Superman caught up with Wonder Woman in the commissary. "Diana? How are you holding up, these days?"

" I'm fine, Clark." But her manner was reserved, guarded.

He put a hand on her shoulder. She probably wouldn't have tolerated such a gesture from anybody else, but this was Clark. "I know you and Bruce had….well, calling it a 'relationship' is misleading, but…I know you two were more than just friends."

Diana Prince swallowed hard. Yes, she'd come to feel that way, even though she knew in advance that it could never be. Bruce Wayne, aka Batman, would never have allowed himself to be involved in anything even remotely resembling a romantic entanglement, especially not with a colleague. As he'd himself had told her, he didn't just have issues, he had a complete subscription. Maybe more than one. "Yes, well….that was then, this is now, as the saying goes."

"You don't believe he's really dead, either, do you?" He gave her a conspiratorial wink.

"Of course he's not," she said, just as if Batman were standing right in front of them. "Why, this is the very thing he'd do. The very thing. The only thing that surprises me is, he waited this long." The two had moved down the line, and now took their trays to a nearby empty table.

"But he still hasn't come back, or given any indication he might still be alive. Do you think he's okay?"

Diana opened her mouth to say of course he's okay, but shut it before so much as a whisper emerged. That was the rub, wasn't it? The onslaught of the Black Lanterns had brought pretty much every hero in existence out to combat them. Even some villains had cooperated with the League, to defend their mutual world. But where was Bruce? "I don't know," she finally said.

Superman reached across the table, putting his hand on hers. "Diana…I know this is…hurting you. If you should, you know, want to talk about anything…"

"Thanks, Kal, but I, I really couldn't talk to you about this sort of thing."

"Actually, I was thinking about my mother." He chuckled. "After raising me, there's not a lot she hasn't heard."

Diana smiled. "I couldn't trouble her with all this."

"She regards the rest of the members of the League—and a good many others associated with us—as being part of her extended family. She might even be a little upset if you didn't confide in her."

"Well, I'll think about it." Pause. Then she smiled. "You know, Clark, I know you think the world of your mother, and you've every right to, but I've always wondered: don't you ever worry about being labeled a 'mama's boy'?"

"Nope." He forked a bite of meatloaf into his mouth, chewed and swallowed. "I can be a mama's boy if I want. After all, I'm Superman."

….

Arisia regained consciousness, moaning slightly. Vol "stood" over her, floating in empty space, a concerned expression on his alien face. "Thank the Guardians you're okay, Captain. We were becoming concerned."

"Yeah, well, thanks, guys, but I'm a little tougher than I look." She winced, putting her hand to her head. She could certainly use an aspirin, but the rings couldn't synthesize that. They could accelerate and augment her natural recuperative abilities, however, and she now used hers to do just that. "Where'd that bastard go?"

Salnor K spread his hands in an expression of puzzlement. "No idea. But I wonder why he didn't kill us all. That's the usual Sinestro Corps modus operandi, isn't it? After all, we were helpless…"

"Good question." She brought up her ring again. "Hal? S'me again. That Sinestro Corps member is trickier than we thought. He got the drop on us. And we got zip on him."

"You alright, Arisia? Do you need anything?"

"Ah, we're fine. But this one's different, Hal. He's not ruled by his fears, and he's actually competent, for a change. We're going to go back looking for him, soon as we recharge our rings. But we're still trying to puzzle out why he didn't kill us when he had the chance."

"I'm eternally thankful he didn't. Maybe you could use some backup?"

"I think we got this. You've got your hands full with Earth right now. Don't worry about us. If we need backup, we'll send to Oa for it. But you do need to be on the alert. We're still in your solar system, and, the way these things go, he'll probably head straight for Earth. So heads up." She closed the connection, and addressed the other two. "Okay, let's go see if we can find this son of a grock."

…..

Ragnar scouted around the solar system he found himself in. It was certainly picturesque, he thought. Nothing at all like the drab little system he came from.

Although Ragnar didn't know it, he was one of the very few members of the infamous Sinestro Corps to have actually escaped indoctrination by Sinestro or one of his subordinates. Therefore he really knew very little about the war he found himself fighting in. He knew his ring was fueled by fear, and that he could use its power to create objects of solid light, or beams of destructive energy. However, he really had very little knowledge regarding those whom he was supposed to fight.

His first real contact with a truly intelligent species, at least one that he could consider an equal, had been the green ones behind him. Part of him wondered if he shouldn't have stayed and tried to talk to them, but a much larger, more rational part of him, told that part to be silent. Other beings were to be feared. They could hurt you. Why take a chance?

The simple truth was, he was lonely, even though he didn't know the word for what he was feeling.

His ring noted a large concentration of electromagnetic waves emanating from the third planet of this solar system, a colorful world of blue and white. His curiosity aroused, he moved to investigate. Almost at once, he noted the large structure in orbit around the blue and white sphere.

Fascinating! These beings traveled through space, and built large constructs there! His awe increased as he began to see resemblences between this construct and his wrecked ship. Could these beings be related to him, somehow?

He had to know more. There was simply no way he could possibly leave this star system without knowing more about these beings, who built such artifacts, and what sort of beings they were.

But of course he would be careful. There was no point in exposing himself to any unwarranted danger. So, with this in mind, he began to move in closer, all the while keeping the planet itself between the structure and himself…

To be continued…