Humble Beginnings

"For the last time, Draxus, this just isn't enough! You're telling me you want 5,000 credits per piece? The concentration's barely at 80%!"

The space station reeked of illicit goods, all hoarded by smugglers, pirates and all manner of other malcontents who preferred to operate on the shadier side of the law. It was vast and dimly lit, with stalls of merchandise stretching as far as the eye could see in the gloomy and destitute corridors of Smugglers' Prime, the abandoned mining station that has now been suffering from outlaw infestation for going on twenty years now. Shal'ai Draxus, a rather tall yet thin young man, was examining one such stall. He was not pleased.

The room was small, cramped and loaded with everything from the tusks of rare, far off alien creatures to fenced weaponry stolen from God only knows where to illegal promiscuous literature. The table stood between the two of them – his colleague being a scrawny, shifty looking alien with a body made of two large tentacles meeting at a single, large eyeball.

A broken leg being held up by a bit of old scrap metal, on which lay a metallic briefcase containing three glass vials filled with a glowing yellow liquid.

"You asked for concentrated Orrum, you didn't specify how much you wanted. 5000 was the agreed upon sum and I'd highly suggest you deliver…or would you rather I remind Vernix that you missed last month's payment to him?"

Draxus hated places like these. They were nothing like his homeworld, where he should be.

The alien didn't seem pleased by the reminder of its debt to the notorious local enforcer for some cartel whose name escaped him right now, but he eventually sighed and submitted.

"5000…" he says in defeat, transferring the credits and closing the briefcase. "Now go away!"

"Shal", as he was known to some, smiled at his success, and the sound of the credits transferring being like music to him. "Nice doing business with you, too!" he says happily, turning on his heels and making his way back through the crowds and to the hangars.

"Draxus, come in," he heard from his communicator. Fantastic – it seemed captain of the ship he'd signed on with needed him for something…again.

"Yes, Captain Valo?" he asked, voice calm and collected, albeit holding back just the tiniest bit of venom.

"I thought I told'ya to be back here an hour ago! Where d'hell are ya? I'm stick 'a waitin'!"

Draxus took a deep breath and straightened his posture. He was taller than most but didn't quite have the muscle to back it up. He'd been compared to a stick on multiple occasions.

"On my way back now, Captain." He replied, hating the fact that he had to enlist his services.

His own shuttle was left back on his homeworld, Taloa, with his wife. She needed it for grocery shopping…grocery shopping! She got to hover around the paradise that is the Taloan capital buying succulent meats and fresh vegetables while he had to put up with a fat, rancid alien captain who believed that owning a vessel gave him a position worthy of respect!

"Good! And bring back some fried Xirindian wings while you're at it. I ain't had nothin' to eat all afternoon."

Draxus didn't bother replying to that. With a sigh, he traced the sweat off of his cleanly shaved head and got to walking. Hair always got in the way for him. He'd spent many hours wondering how his wife made it work so well.

A common saying claims that every Taloan had a different hairstyle. They had to do it, after all, as it was the only way aliens could differentiate them. To almost everyone they looked like an average human, but the males of the species had a very narrow range of variable features which resulted in them looking the exact same to almost everyone. Tattoos, styles of clothing, haircuts, phenotype genetic modification – anything that could be used to make themselves look different was greatly valued.

This was only to make things easier for alien species, though. Taloans could, among themselves, differentiate each other quite easily thanks to natural genetic imprints that could be read by others. Reading imprints was as natural as breathing for his people, and Draxus decided that if it was good enough for the people of Taloa, then it should be good enough for everyone else, too. To a human, two male Taloans could look like twins. To a Taloan, they would seem to be as different as Barack Obama and Brad Pitt.

Females of the race, on the other hand, had it much easier. They were as diverse as human women, each with their own noses and ears and eyes and lips and everything else that made them unique. One peculiar feature of the species was that almost every male Taloan was the equivalent of Earthen Caucasian, whereas the females all had their skin colored a dark gray.

Draxus' wife, Eletae, could easily be described by him as the most gorgeous thing he'd ever laid eyes on. Her skin was like volcanic ash, fitting her neat form perfectly. She wasn't very tall – females rarely were – but she made up for it in attitude. If there was one person in the galaxy who could put him in his place when he was getting fussy, it was her.

The more he thought about his wife, the less he wanted to stick around here so with a shake of the head he picked up the pace to get this over with.

"You're late," was the first thing he heard upon reaching his rented vessel, the Rugged Compromise. The ship lived up to its name – you had to compromise all standards if you wanted to set foot on this ship; its rust was eminent, the interior was cramped and filled with scrap metal, and its captain…well, he matched the theme perfectly. Fat, greasy, pink skin drooping all over him, dressed in working class attire…this was Captain Valo, owner of the esteemed ship transport ship he had the misfortune to employ.

"And I thought I told ya to get wings."

Draxus wanted to point out the flawed logic in him griping about being "late", as well as not wasting even more time to take a detour to bring him food but decided against it. All he needed to do was to fly from one place to another and the less whining, moaning, arguing, bickering or otherwise usage of breath that is largely inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, the better off they'd both be.

"They…ran out. I had to check somewhere else so that's why I was late," was his reply. It was a lie if he'd ever seen one, but lying was in his nature. He was a trader, salesman, accountant, occasional banker and just a general practitioner of the mercantile arts. It's what his people did.

The Forgotten Zone was no longer a place of complete death, chaos and war. There were planets and colonies, each with industries importing and exporting goods all over the sector. Taloa was for the frontier like what Switzerland was for planet Earth – a large network of banks, completely neutral to any conflict with a wide network of financial and economical connections that ensured its survival.

As for the planet itself, it was a rather warm world with only one, vast ocean and continent. Gargantuan golden spires that towered up even to the heavens, the reddening sun shimmering proudly in the reflection, all huddled together in a single concentrated area which formed the capital city known as The Shine. All of these towers were important commercial centers and banks, used by companies and government officials from all across the frontier. Lawyers, ministers, merchants, terrorists, presidents – everyone who needed money stored somewhere used Taloa to do it.

Most wouldn't enjoy being surrounded in a place so closely focused on a single industry, but the planet was much more agreeable to live with than most others in Sector 666. Agrarian colonies were all well and good, but they didn't have the same spice of life that Draxus' home planet provided, and everything else was either destroyed beyond repair centuries ago by the Manhunters or too desolate and forgone to consider living in. For now, he was content with the bristling skylines of this ecumenopolis.

"Humph. I take it they didn't have any there, too, right?" asked the captain, not entirely believing him.

"If they had some then I would have gotten them. Now can we please get moving? You might enjoy filthy places like these, but I for one have no patience for them."

"Oh but of course, your Majesty. I don't suppose a spot of Erudesian tea and crumpets would tickle your fancy, too, would they?"

"As a matter of fact they would. But wait! How could I forget? That probably means dishwater and stale, moldy bread for you, doesn't it? Let's just move already."

With a slight grumble under his breath, the fat captain opened the hatch to his ship and climbed aboard. It seemed Draxus had just witnessed two miracles happen – the hatch didn't come off entirely, and Valo managed to make it through without any help on his part. There really was a God, after all.

One sigh and heave of effort later and he was aboard, dodging the trash littered around the floor of the vessel. Dark orange and black seemed to be the dominant colors here; the walls were lined with rust, the empty crates of a dark metallic alloy were placed precariously stacking atop each other in the corner to gather dust, half eaten meals were left to rot on nearly every available surface except for one – his room. Five words exited his mouth. Five neat little words forming the sentence that never failed to promise him peace, quiet and a moment of contemplation.

"I'll be in my quarters."

"Enjoy your snooze, Princess. I'll be here doing actual man's work."

Shal didn't wait around long. He gave the order to take them back to his planet and quickly made his way to his room, eager to get this trip over with. The room was small, but he felt he'd complained enough today. He was lucky he didn't have to make his bedding out of crates and use molding cheese sandwiches as pillows. The overweight owner of the vessel at least had the common courtesy to give him a mattress while he slept on the captain's chair, so maybe he wasn't a complete blockhead.

Taking a seat on his bed, he rolled his head around to stretch it until he heard a distinctly audible, yet very pleasurable, crack. Deciding to call up his ball and chain and see how she was doing, he opened up his communicator and spoke.

"Eletae Draxus."

"At once, Mister Draxus. Calling…calling…"

His children were probably still at school and his wife may still be out getting groceries, but he knew she'd pick up. She always did manage to have time for him, no matter how busy her schedule got for her. It was one of the many things he loved and appreciated, even though his being away from home so often didn't leave a lot of time for him to show it.

"This is the automated voice messenger of ELETAE DRAXUS. We're sorry, but this user is unable to respond right now. We request you try again later. Alternatively, you could leave a message following the ping."

Two seconds pass and a quick, high pitched "dum dum" plays.

"Hi there, El, it's Shal. I just wanted you to know that I finished up business over here and am on my way back now. Hope everything's alright with you and the kids…"

He paused for a moment as he tried to think of something else to say, but nothing really came to mind.

"I…miss you. This trip's been rougher than most. Had to put up with a lot of people's complaints, but it was worth it…Well, that's about it. I'll be back real soon. Say hi to the kids for me, ah and in case I forget…I love you, El."

By Aetis, the Mistress of the Sun, that was awkward. He hated recorded messages or texts or anything that wasn't face to face interaction when it came to talking to his wife. He had no access to body language and it always came out sounding wrong and overly dramatic. He was able to get the message across at least. Hopefully she'd take pity on his terrible message and at least be ready to reward him for the suffering he'll endure whilst thinking about what he could have said over the course of the voyage.

It was strange that she didn't pick up, though. She normally always did, but El probably just went to get her nails done or something. Maybe there was traffic. Shaking his head, he stretched once again and laid down on his bed to try and get some sleep. This month had been beyond difficult, but the season overall had been killing him. Bureaucrats, tax collectors, lawyers, various government inspectors, banking officials – it seemed the entire financial world wanted him to do work as slowly as possible, and almost every client he took up seemed to drop him because of forces out of his control.

It was madness and it was having an effect on him. He never struggled to make ends meet and it wasn't the case here, but he'd always had a quick temper he tried his best to keep hidden. His wife was patient with him and he loved her for it. The children did their best to be orderly and not do anything to make their father angry, but at 10 and 8 they were still growing and needed excitement. It was times like these that he realized how important his family was to him. Money was transitory but his family was forever, no matter how many times he'd snap or gripe or yell.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to let sleep come to him at last. The rumbling of the engine, the subtle vibrations as they flew through space at speeds he could hardly even imagine, it all made falling asleep difficult. He was stubborn, though, and he just clenched his eyes and tried to focus on the darkness, not letting his mind wander off…It didn't work for very long, though, and soon enough his mind was back to running rampant for another hour or so until he felt the ship stop moving altogether.

It was probably just Valo doing random repairs. It was no secret that this ship needed them. Of course, that was until he heard a rather hurried thumping coming from down the hall. Climbing to his feet, he walks to the door but stops just short as it's opens by itself to reveal the captain standing there, his expression fearful.

"Kid…You gotta come see this."

Alright, now Shal was getting worried. Had something happened? Since when was he a 'kid'? What matter needed his attention so desperately? Did they reach Taloa? Not even having time to process all the questions racing in his head, he just follows him to the bridge and looks out the main window to see his home planet significantly different than how he left it. When on the dark side of the planet, The Shine was previously visible even from orbit as a bright speck of white light, but now, even under the sun's bright blaze, all that was visible was a smoking crater.

The image slowly sunk into his mind, branding itself firmly into his memories. His brain could hardly process the implications of all this; the death, the destruction, his family…his family! Were they safe? Was everything alright? Is this why his wife didn't pick up? When did this happen? Shal'ai blinked a few times, jumping and turning to his left when he feels a hand on his shoulder. It was Valo's.

"We…we've got to go down there!" he demands, wanting, no – needing, to confirm his family's safety.

Valo slowly shook his head and replied, "No can do, Draxus. Rescue officials got the entire place on lockdown. No way anyone's gettin' in there."

That wasn't good enough. He had to be down there now! Under normal conditions he'd scoff at or vastly chastise people who would try to get in the rescuers' – trained professionals – way to find their families, but this was different: now his family was the one in danger and he needed to know everything was alright! Jumping onto the captain's chair, he brought up the display and took the ship down.

"Hey! Whaddaya think you're do-ach!"

Shal'ai had never gotten into a fight before, but he'd seen others do it. He got off the chair and kept a hand firmly squeezing around the alien's neck – albeit a bit poorly due to the layers of fat that constituted his many chins – and gripped tightly.

"I'm commandeering this vessel. Now sit down and shut up!" he yells back at him, not having time for niceties anymore.

Tossing Valo into the piled crates, he heard them collapse on top of him, cracking open and even knocking down a table. "Uuuugh…" was all he heard in return and he was pleased with himself. However, he still had a mission to accomplish – get to the Shine and find out what was happening.

He was just about to break into the atmosphere when a message appeared to his left. A man in a security uniform, his hair styled in a swooping wave that was buzzed to the skin on the left but gradually grew near-cheek length on the right – all of this accompanied by a tattoo of an arc going across his forehead – popped up in hologram form to warn him about approaching the planet.

"This is a restricted zone. Civilian presence will not be tolerated. Interference with rescue operations shall be counted as an offense and treated as such. Adjust course immediately."

Shal'ai just ignored him and pressed a couple buttons until it shut off the comm. He would not be delayed. Not when so much was left uncertain. What happened to his planet? Where was his family? He had to know the answers and he had to know them now. Of course, a few seconds of flying closer had revealed the answer to the first question – a meteor impact. But this was…impossible. The shockwaves were not like those of a bomb, but for it to have such a tremendous force as to destroy everything in the vicinity was unnatural; especially given the fact that it was still small enough to destroy the entire capital but leave the rest of the planet unharmed.

His family was likely dead given the nature of the attack, but he wouldn't rest until he knew for certain.

"Would there even be bodies?" he wonders, quickly shunning those thoughts from his mind. At the bottom of his heart, though, he knew it – his family was dead. Everything he did now was just denial to honor their memories.

A lot of things were still unclear, but one certainty did stand true in the darkness of ignorance. This was no accident. Not in the least.

Author's Note: Welcome to Chapter 1 of From Ashes, a tale about the life of Shal'ai Draxus and his quest to uncover the truth about his family's mysterious demise. I'd like to take this time to thank anyone who took the time to read it, as well as assure you all that it is indeed a Green Lantern the Animated Series fanfic. This is only chapter one, but starting from now the plot will indeed be more definitely set into the established universe. I took the liberty of creating a new race, planet and character. The details of them all will be looked into a bit more in depth in the future, however. Any reviews will be appreciated and constructive criticism is welcomed. It's my hope that you all enjoyed reading this and look forward to hearing back from you in the future!

I do not own Green Lantern the Animated Series or any of the characters established as canon, nor do I claim any rights to it.