VELOCITY

A Justice League Fan-Fiction by neomage

(DISCLAIMER: Justice League, Justice League Unlimited, and all characters therein are owned by DC Comics and the Warner Bros. animation studios.)

Chapter 03

Justice League Watchtower, orbiting Planet Earth, 1:00 p.m. Earth Time

The massive Watchtower, the space-faring headquarters of the Justice League, floated just outside of Earth's orbit. Out there in the star-lit void, all was silent, all was calm, all was peaceful…

"MAN, THIS BITES!"

Inside one of the Watchtower's empty hallways, a blond man in a blue and gold costume with a yellow visor leaned against the wall, letting out a massive groan of frustration. In one hand he held a mop; at his feet was a bucket of water and cleaning solutions. Opposite him, the glass panes that served simultaneously as windows and walls showed the Earth seemingly right next door, though in reality it was several hundred miles away from the Watchtower. And on the man's face was a look of rage; though the visor hid his eyes, that rage was well-expressed in the snarl that was on his lips.

"Look what they've reduced me to! Me, Booster Gold! I'm reduced to clean-up duty!" he spat. "Even managing crowd control as part of a bigger mission is better than THIS—at least there's some dignity to that!"

As Booster continued his ranting, a gold metallic robot hovered up the hallway, coming in his direction. "That's not quite what you said after that one mission where you were placed on crowd control," it spoke to him in an electronic voice. "And just so you know, after this hallway you still have the dining area, the bathrooms and the Javelin hangar to mop, plus you still haven't done the dishes in the kitchen or washed the maintenance personnel's dirty uniforms as yet."

"Skeets, let me remind you that this makes the seventeenth time within this hour that you've come to remind me of everything I've been assigned to do," Booster growled at the robot. "And if I hear it from you one more time, don't blame me if you end up as nothing but scrap metal!"

"Well, Booster, you WERE the one who went to Mr. Terrific this morning complaining that all the missions you've been sent out on in the last month have been 'kid's play,' as you so eloquently put it," Skeets informed him. "And you demanded—not asked politely, mind you—but demanded that he assign you something more challenging to do for a mission."

"Well, how was I to know he was going to make me do K.P all over the Watchtower?" Booster protested. "I mean, come on! I helped fight off Darkseid's invading army when they stormed Earth four months ago, didn't I? You'd think everybody could at least show me a little more respect and appreciation after what went down that time!"

"True, you did play a significant role in repelling the invasion force," Skeets answered. "But then, so did everyone else in the Justice League. And I seem to recall that you were the only one who, just days after the battle was won, started bragging about the number of Darkseid's minions you fought off in one single skirmish…and, needless to say, a number of League members weren't pleased with that."

"Pfft! They were just jealous!" Booster scoffed.

"Or maybe you were just too full of hot air for your own good," another voice spoke up, startling Booster.

"Wha…?" Booster flinched when he saw who it was. "Oh, man…!"

Skeets, however, did not seem perturbed in the least. "Hello, Mr. Terrific."

Standing before them was the coordinator for the Justice League, a serious-looking man clad in a red, white and black jacket and wearing a black mask in the shape of a T over his face. "Skeets," he returned the greeting, nodding at the robot. Then he turned to Booster, and his red eyes seemed to bore into the other man's face. "A word of advice, Booster: If you'd spend as much time mopping the floor as you do griping, you'd be surprised just how much faster the work gets done."

"What're you doing here? I thought you'd be monitoring the other heroes who're out on missions," Booster remarked, emphasizing the last word with bitter contempt in his tone.

"Well, I was, but since nothing serious seemed to be taking place in that regard, I thought I'd personally come and see how far you'd gotten with these chores I gave you," Mr. Terrific answered coolly. "And evidently, you still have a long way before you'll be able to say you're done."

Booster's grip on the mop tightened. "Look, I didn't join the Justice League to end up as a housekeeper!" he growled. "I should be out there fighting crime or battling super-villains, not mopping floors! This is just a complete waste of time!"

"I don't think so," Mr. Terrific replied sternly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Now, look. The way I see it right now, you've got two choices. You can continue mopping, and then when you're done with that you can go on to the other little jobs I gave you to do, and finish them too. Or…you can go back to Earth and fight crime all you want—but in exchange, you'll have to surrender your League membership completely, plus run the risk of having not one single criminal or super-villain take you seriously, or worse…having the entire populace mistake you for Green Lantern. Again."

Booster's jaw tightened…then he sighed. "Fine. I'll mop."

"See? You can make a smart decision when you put your mind to it. Now get back to work," Mr. Terrific advised him.

With a fury, Booster plunged the mop into the bucket, very nearly splashing himself and Mr. Terrific in the process. Shrugging, Mr. Terrific turned and started to walk off…but as he took six paces away from Booster, he paused. "Hey, Booster…"

"Yeeeeeeeeeessss?" Booster asked, his voice full of angry strain, even as he continued mopping with a vengeance.

Mr. Terrific shook his head. "If respect's what you really want, then remember this. It's not merely given…it's earned."

That said, he resumed walking off. Muttering under his breath, Booster went on mopping, while Skeets floated nearby, looking on.

----------

A few minutes later, Mr. Terrific arrived back at the Watchtower's monitor room. There was a huge monitor on one side of the room, flanked by several smaller monitors all around it, and accompanied by a huge keyboard set up by itself on an upraised platform. Several dozen feet below, there was the Watchtower's teleporter, which all League members used for emergency transport to and from any designated point on Earth. A few maintenance workers walked along, some with clipboards in their hands; others were busy at nearby controls, listening out for incoming calls or monitoring interstellar radar systems. As Mr. Terrific entered the room, some of them hailed him with hands upraised in greeting; rather absently, he returned the greetings likewise.

At length he sat down at the big keyboard—and just at that moment Green Lantern's voice came over the radio frequency. "Watchtower, two for transport."

"Two?" Mr. Terrific inquired, answering the call.

"Yeah, me and Dr. Light," Lantern acknowledged. "Flash can't come back with us for now; he's got work to do at his day job."

"Understood. Stand by," Mr. Terrific answered.

He tapped a few keys on the keyboard and waited…and a few seconds later, two pods on the teleporter glowed with a bright white light. And then, in a moment, both Green Lantern and Dr. Light's forms materialized in full. "Welcome back, you two," Mr. Terrific hailed them. "I saw the news report. Job well done."

The other two heroes swiftly flew up to the platform to join Mr. Terrific. "Yes, everything went well," Dr. Light reported. "We were able to defeat the Thinker, and he was apprehended by the authorities."

"And we were able to take a look at Flash's dedicated museum while we were down there," Lantern added with a chuckle.

"Hmm. I've heard it's a pretty nice attraction," Mr. Terrific remarked. "Maybe one of these days when I'm on my day-off, I'll pass by there and check it out for myself."

"Just make sure you do so as a civilian," Dr. Light told him. "Not everybody in Central City is as friendly toward meta-humans or people in costumes as we had been led to believe."

"Oh?" Mr. Terrific raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah…I'd forgotten about that," Lantern said thoughtfully. "Right after we captured Thinker, this one cop came forward saying that it was a police matter and we shouldn't have butted in."

"Oh—THAT," and Mr. Terrific shook his head. "Yeah, I saw that little bit on the news, also. And I also saw that Dr. Light here was going to engage him all-out." He cast a searching glance at her.

Dr. Light lowered her head a little, a deep red blush appearing on her cheeks. "I apologize if I caused any embarrassment," she said softly. "It's just…the man seemed so unappreciative…I wasn't sure how I could abide that."

"Hey, don't beat yourself up over it," Mr. Terrific reassured her. "At the very least, no harm was done in that regard. Anyway, a lot of people among the general populace are like that."

"That's what Flash said, too," said Lantern.

"Well…are there any other missions for us to undergo at this time?" Dr. Light asked.

"No, nothing that needs our immediate attention right now," Mr. Terrific answered. "You guys go ahead and take a break. After that fight with the Thinker, you deserve it."

"Well, in that case," Lantern announced, "I'm gonna go to the lounge and grab something to eat. Want to come, Light?"

But Dr. Light shook her head. "No, you go ahead, Green Lantern," she replied. "I'll probably stop by in a little while from this."

"Well, all right, suit yourself," said Lantern. "You want anything, Terrific?"

"Actually, yeah," Mr. Terrific replied. "If they've got any chicken salad sandwiches, ask them to save one for me. It's gonna be a little while before I can leave here again."

"Again?" Lantern wondered.

"Yeah. I assigned Booster Gold to do a couple of chores around the Watchtower…I had to go check his progress just a while ago," Mr. Terrific explained.

"Oh, I got it," and now Lantern couldn't resist a big smile. "Well, all right. If they have any of those sandwiches, I'll make sure they save you one." And he turned and walked towards the sliding doors leading out of the room.

Watching for a moment as Lantern departed, Dr. Light presently sighed and leaned against the platform's railing. Mr. Terrific regarded her. "Something bothering you, Light?"

"Mr. Terrific…it just doesn't make any sense to me," Dr. Light answered quietly. "Do people really feel so ungrateful about what we do, or try to do, for them?"

Mr. Terrific's eyes narrowed. "What that cop said is still upsetting you, isn't it?"

"Should it not?" Dr. Light answered. "We risked our lives to defeat a powerful super-villain today. And then, next thing we knew, that man came up to us and said that we shouldn't have interfered. But if we hadn't, all those officers who fought today might well be dead right now! Couldn't he see that?"

Mr. Terrific turned to her and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Listen," he spoke to her. "That guy's not the first one who's ever held bias against us. You know this. Remember back when Cadmus was still up, how the League's good name was smeared?"

"But that was Lex Luthor's manipulation," Dr. Light pointed out.

"True enough," Mr. Terrific admitted. "But there are lots of people who've never been supportive of the idea of costumed heroes running around to begin with, for one reason or another. Anti-meta-human sentiment is no different from any other form of prejudice, and like any other form of prejudice it's not going to go away no matter what we do. Believe me, I know."

"So…what can we do, then?" Dr. Light asked in a now-dejected tone.

"We can keep fighting the good fight…and also remember that even though there are going to be folks who don't appreciate our help, there're also going to be a lot more who do." Mr. Terrific nodded. "So, cheer up. Just because one civilian doesn't like us doesn't mean it's the end of the world—and of course, you know how many times we've come close to THAT."

Dr. Light now smiled a little. "Yes…I do." She looked at him. "Thank you."

"Hey, it's what I'm here for," and Mr. Terrific nodded reassuringly.

----------

In the meantime, Green Lantern was walking along the corridor, occasionally glancing out through the glass partition at the Earth. So absorbed in the magnificent view was he that he barely registered the fact that he was now coming up on Skeets and Booster Gold, who was still mopping the floor. Until…

"Good afternoon, Green Lantern. I would advise you not to step on this section of floor at present."

"Huh?" Startled out of his reverie by Skeet's electronic voice, Lantern glanced down at the floor and immediately understood. "Oh, right. My bad." And in a moment's notice he activated his ring's power, creating a green energy field around himself that allowed him to hover well above the floor.

Still with a scowl on his lips, Booster was roughly pushing the mop along the floor, gripping the mop handle so tightly that it seemed he might break it with just a little more pressure. "Hey, uh, Booster, you might want to give that mop a breather; the way you're holding it, you might as well be choking it," Lantern spoke to him.

Booster didn't answer Lantern, but kept his eyes fixed on the floor as he continued to mop. "Booster, I believe that among humans it is common courtesy to respond when someone addresses you," Skeets informed his human partner.

"Yeah, what the robot said," Lantern added, cocking an eyebrow at Booster's unresponsiveness.

Still Booster did not speak…but as he raised the mop from the floor, he plunged it into the bucket with such violence that some of the bucket's water splashed upward and very nearly caught Lantern! "Hey! Watch it, man!" Lantern shouted, floating out of harm's way in time.

Then Booster spoke—and his voice was black with anger. "Why don't you watch it, oh-so-mighty Green Lantern!" he yelled.

"Excuse me?" Lantern asked, narrowing his eyes as he slowly floated down to the ground.

"You think you're better than me, huh?" Booster demanded. "Oh, look, everyone, here's the world-famous defender of Planet Earth, the mighty and unstoppable Green Lantern! Well, guess what, man? I'm sick of everybody sticking me in your shadow, of you getting all the fame and the glory while I get sidelined!"

"Booster, perhaps you should calm down…" Skeets started.

"You stay out of this, Skeets!" Booster flung at the robot. "And anyway, since when did you start supporting him instead of me, huh?"

Lantern shook his head. "No wonder nobody takes you seriously…you're worse than a 5-year-old."

"Why, you—I'll show you!" Booster raged, lifting the mop above his head like a weapon. But as he struck forward with it, Lantern swiftly grabbed the mop handle and yanked it out of the other man's hands, at the same time thrusting one end of it to the floor and causing Booster to trip and fall on his face!

Momentarily dazed by his fall, Booster turned and glared angrily up at Lantern, who was looking coolly down at him even as he held the mop in one hand. "Okay, now I'm really surprised that anybody would mistake you for me," Lantern said thoughtfully. "There really is no comparison to be made."

Infuriated again, Booster started to get up…but Lantern thrust the business end of the mop into the other man's chest, pinning him to the ground. "Hey! Let me up!" Booster snapped.

"Man, this is embarrassing…I haven't even used my ring's power, and I still managed to beat you just now," Lantern remarked. "This is absolutely no contest, let me tell you that."

"Be quiet! I'm just as good as you are any day!" Booster flared.

Lantern sighed wearily. "Okay, Booster…you really want to prove yourself? Then how about accepting a little challenge…"

Some of Booster's belligerence died down at that. "A…challenge…?"

Lantern looked down levelly at him. "Once you've finished your chores around the Watchtower, come on down to the training room. We're going to have a little match, you and me…but there'll be a catch: neither one of us is going to use any superpowers. So, it's essentially going to be mano a mano. Think you're up to it?"

"Yeah!" Booster nodded enthusiastically.

"All right, then. I'll be waiting there for you." And with that, Lantern released his hold on the mop, causing the handle to narrowly miss Booster's face as it fell to the ground. Then he turned and walked off without so much as a backward glance.

Slowly Booster got up, rubbing his forehead and very mindful of the wet stain the mop had left on his shirt. Skeets hovered near him. "Booster, you do realize what you've just done, right?" it inquired. "You've just set yourself up for a confrontation you cannot win. Your chances against an experienced League member like the Green Lantern are—"

"Skeets, spare me the details, okay?" Booster snapped. "Look, all I have to do is finish up this cleaning-up job, then later I'll get a chance to prove myself to Green Lantern! I'm gonna show him he's not all that!"

So saying, he grabbed the mop and stood up, and began mopping again with furious determination. Skeets let off the equivalent of a sigh as it watched its master. "Very surprising how you can actually get something done when you've got the right motivation," it noted, in a tone low enough for Booster not to hear.

----------

Central City Police Department, 1:27 p.m.

Wally West was still in the CCPD's forensic lab, carefully adjusting the lens of his microscope as he looked hard at the metal piece that he'd received to examine earlier. His eyes narrowed bit by bit as he examined the metal. "Hmmm…"

Straightening up, he walked over to a nearby cabinet and opened its doors. Inside were numerous pieces of equipment: Bunsen burners, empty beakers, hot plates and other items. Reaching inside, he pulled out a rather small electric hot plate and a beaker, then walked back to his table. "Okay…time to see if what I'm thinking about you is true," he whispered as he set both items down.

Wally then leaned forward toward the microscope and, with one finger, carefully pushed the piece of metal into his open palm. Then, with care, he placed the metal into the beaker and then set the beaker itself on top of the hot plate. Having done that, he reached for the hot plate's electrical cord and plugged it into the nearby wall socket. Carefully, he adjusted the hot plate's heat level to as low as possible. "Okay…now it's up to Father Time to do the rest," he announced.

"To do the rest of what?" a voice behind him inquired.

Startled, Wally spun around. "Oh! Oh, uh…Officer Zolomon, you kinda scared me there."

Indeed, it was Zolomon standing there, leaning on his cane as he scrutinized Wally. "Made any headway so far?" he asked.

"Well, it's a little early to tell, but, uh…" Wally fingered his brow thoughtfully. "I have come up with a little theory about this shard of metal, and right now I'm putting it to the test."

"And what would that be, exactly?" Zolomon asked.

"Well, here's my take on it," Wally explained. "Normally, every solid substance has at least some degree of friction…but the fact that this metal piece doesn't, tells me that there must be some kind of foreign agent on it that's making it slippery to grip."

"Like some kind of chemical or a special coating of some sort?" Zolomon suggested.

"Yeah, that's it," Wally nodded. "I saw something to that effect while I was examining it under the microscope, but I couldn't come up with anything concrete just by looking at it like that. So now, I'm going to try melting whatever could be on this metal on a low flame, and then afterwards I'll run the substance through our database and try to match it to any known chemical agents. Of course, all of that means it'll take a little while longer, so…sorry if you were hoping for a quick report."

"No, don't worry about it," Zolomon shook his head. "I can understand that you forensics guys take a decent amount of time to come up with your test results, after all."

"Yeah, that's true," Wally laughed. "But then again, sometimes our work tends to go a lot faster than even we expect. It all depends, you know."

Zolomon shrugged. "Well…since you just turned on the flame on that hot plate, how about grabbing a coffee with me? It shouldn't take longer than a few minutes…by which time the flame should've done most of its work, right?"

"Hmmm…" Wally cast a glance at the hot plate; not even steam was rising from the metal in the beaker. "Yeah, sure, why not? I could use a break, anyway."

"Then it's settled," Zolomon nodded. "Let's get a move-on, then."

"Right! Lead the way, Officer Zolomon!" Wally pointed his thumb toward the doorway.

"Hey, hey, please—we're both in the same overall profession, aren't we? It's not like I'm placing you under arrest or anything." Zolomon chuckled and extended a hand. "Call me Hunter."

"Wally." Wally extended his own hand and shook the profiler's.

"All right then, Wally." Hunter gave a little smile.

The two turned and walked toward the doorway. "So, how do you take your coffee?" Hunter asked.

Wally shrugged. "The way I always do—cream and thirty-seven sugars."

Hunter gave him an odd look. "Huh?"

"Hey—it's a joke!" Wally laughed, waving his hands in front of himself.

At that, Hunter broke into a somewhat embarrassed chuckle. "Oh…right. I guess I don't really have much of a sense of humor…"

"Hey, don't worry about it—you'll learn," Wally assured him. "Around here, when it comes to humor, I'm the one to be consulted!" And with that, the two of them went out the door together, Wally allowing Hunter to go first because of his cane.

CHAPTER 3 COMPLETE! CHAPTER 4 COMING UP!