Chapter 3
Kal-El watched the flaring red sun with a pair of black visors, and he knew within his stone heart that he needed to save his people—at least the ones who wanted saving from the precarious radioactive waves. Playing with his thoughts, he knew—probably better than anybody—the Guardians wouldn't simply allow him to leave the galaxy, and search for a new home. They were watching, waiting, and anticipating for him to make a move, to make a strategic maneuver to flee Krypton, and they waited on the fringes of the galaxy with teams of man-bots. Billions of Kryptonians would die regardless of his decision, but he felt he could save a few, at least the men and women who served under him.
The Guardians feared if the Kryptonians left the galaxy, and sieged the opportunity to live under a yellow sun, they would become gods to the inhabitants of that world. And as far as the Guardians were concerned, Kryptonians under a yellow sun would become petty and cruel—and destructive to any civilization. A yellow sun increased a Kryptonians strength by an insurmountable amount, and it couldn't be measured to any degree. And by denying them the ability to leave their dying galaxy, they could ensure none of Kryptonians had the opportunity to escape to a yellow sun, and become nearly indestructible.
He knew he couldn't save all of his people—realizing the majority of them were mere sheep, and slaves to a system of oppression started nearly two centuries ago. Many of the inhabitants of Krypton had given up any hope of finding a new world, a better world, a world drawing energy from a yellow sun. Perturbed, he grudgingly sipped his hot tea—grimacing at the flareups from the angry red sun. The tea had a bland taste; it wasn't anything special, but it helped keep him calm as he watched the last days of Krypton from the window of his battleship. All of his work only bought him a small amount of time to prepare an emigration from Krypton; and he worked closely with the military department—building exoskeleton suits with enough firepower to stop the man-bots.
The exoskeleton program, a program created by Kal-El, didn't have the approval from the Elders because they usually objected to anything that challenged the Guardians of Oa. Jor-El designed the man-bots, but Zod killed him before he had an opportunity to implement the program. After Kal-El finished his advance studies, he forged a team of scientist in secret that perfected Jor-El's design, and now he had exoskeleton suits for nearly every soldier on the planet.
Krypton no longer had the ability to filter out the dangerous radioactive waste from the atmosphere, and now the majority of men were barren—unable to strengthen the numbers of the race. The radioactive particles in the atmosphere caused thousands of birth defects. Instead of fighting against the Elders—mere men who capitulated to the will of the Guardians—they waited for death like a messy child waiting for its momma to change it. Unfortunately, the few babies born within the last few years were all hideously grotesque. Deformed. The Elders ordered all the malformed babies culled, but never lifted a finger to vacate Krypton, a dying planet on its last days.
Continuously sipping an old-recipe tea, he walked away from the deck, and sat back in his command chair—thinking. His dark hair had a flash of gray in it, and he looked like a man with rugged good looks. With a nose that set prominent on his face, he was a man within his late forties or early fifties, and he spent the majority of his adult life taking care of the protective shield around the planet. Angered, he continued to seethe about the decision of the Elders to stay on Krypton, a planet everybody knew only had months left before total annihilation. In addition, he hated the Guardians, and considered their authority null and void to Kryptonian matters. Unfortunately, the sheep didn't see the Guardians as hypocrites like Kal-El did. No no. They saw them as the redeemers. The stresses of dealing with the Guardians caused him to wear a hole in the arm rest of his command chair. Repeatedly, he rubbed his hands back and forth on the arm rest until a nice hole existed in both of them. He gently bit his bottom lip, and then slammed both of his fist on the arm rests, charged out the bridge, and headed for his quarters.
Kal-El wanted to talk some sense into the Elders; the Guardians, kill them with the maximum amount of prejudice. The robotic man-bots stood watch on the edge of the galaxy, and they did the bidding of the Guardians. None of the man-bots had the ability to feel or show compassion or make nothing more than a cold, calculating decision that left all humanoids bitter. They had some of the most advance technology in the universe behind them, and they kept the Kryptonians at bay. If Kal-El wanted to leave the galaxy, he'd have to kill the man-bots first.
Something had to give for the people to have a fighting chance, and he knew that simple fact better than anybody. He checked on his pregnant wife; she lay in the bed resting because she had only a few days left before she gave birth. The blanket on her bed had the family's symbol for hope on the face of it. The family crest endured, in spite of Braniac, Zod, an unstable sun, and distance. And if Kal-El took a crew of Kryptonians to another galaxy or dimension, the family crest could endure for all eternity. Above his wife's head, he had his sword hanging on the wall with the family crest on the handle. It was sharp. He spent hours sharpening the sword in order to make it perfect. The majority of officers, regardless of rank, had swords as a part of their uniforms.
Kal-El stood over the bed of his wife, La-El, with a worn look about him—frustrated. He turned his quarters into a museum about the history of Krypton in the hopes that he may preserve its history. And above La-El's head between the two swords was a painting representing the Nihilist Movement who helped destroy Krypton. Upon entry into the room, he had two statues of former Elders who stood up to the Guardians before they mysteriously died nearly five hundred years earlier. They were Pu-Tac and Mo-Jik, the rebel Elders, and they helped squash the Nihilist movement. On the far end of the room, a book shelf set against the wall with volumes of Kryptonian literature that dated back nearly fifty thousand years. All of the books was in the databases, but he wanted the actual books.
Her baby could be due at anytime, and he feared for deformities, weaknesses due to the radiation from the sun. None of the test gave an indication about the possibility of a deviation from the norm, but Kal-El feared the worse. He had made up his mind on what needed to be done. The planet—according to his readings—had approximately two or three days left before the radiation overwhelmed the shields. If he didn't coordinate a route out of the galaxy, then the race would be lost forever. "Going to the planet," he said in a guttural voice—brittle. The room seemed quieter than usual—emptied. But it wasn't empty at all because his wife lay sprawled out on the bed in front of him.
"Our race will perish," she said with a grimace. She sat up in the bed, and her belly made it very difficult for her to change positions. "You can't stop what is written, Kal-El."
"Where is this written?" He asked bitterly. Moving to the right side of the bed, he sat down next to his wife. "Where does it say we have to die?" He placed his right hand on his wife's belly, and his fingers looked tattered. The cuticles were frayed because of his nonstop work with the shields. Even though he spent a considerable amount of time washing his stained hands, the oils and dirt still rested untouched under his fingernails. Sometimes he led teams of workers to the generators, and didn't hesitate on getting his hands dirty. He led by example.
"The planet dies … we die," she said in a soft voice. She grabbed his shoulders, looked him in the eyes, and said forcefully, "It's written."
He shook his head in disagreement, removed her hands, stood to his feet, grabbed one of his sword off the wall—and left. Placing the sword in its sheath, he stopped outside of his bedroom, and wondered if killing the Elders was the right thing to do. There wasn't anything else to say to his wife because he thought she was a tool of the Elders like the majority of the planet. The last thing he wanted to do was to defy authority, but he couldn't allow his people to die with a dying planet. Defiance was another tool in order to correct great wrongs; and in Kal-El's mind, staying on Krypton was an unfathomable injustice.
The quilted, slightly radioactive smog covered nearly the entire surface of the planet, and the majority of the citizens lived approximately ten miles beneath the earth. It was a thick smog, the kind of smog that concealed the hidden, surface dangers. Nothing moved on the barren surface of the planet. It was unbreathable. If the animals didn't make it into the chthonian regions of the planet, then they didn't make it. The thick, unbreathable air killed them in a painful manner. Not even the insects crawled on the surface of Krypton because of the thick, unbreathable smog. Even in his protective military uniform, he could feel the deadly rays of the sun beating against his rugged skin. The shield covered his entire face, and allowed him to breath clean, Kryptonian air. Regardless, he had to face the Elders for what he perceived as insolence to the safety of his race. He traveled down a dark corridor into a commodious cave about two miles wide, and huge birds soared majestically above the man-made city with its artificial lights. It was an incredible display of Kryptonian technology, but it wasn't enough to save them from total destruction. The fresh air hit him in the face when he removed his protective helmet and face-shield. In the distance, he could see several soldiers engaged in tomfoolery, and it disturbed him. Several silver like buildings stood in the center of the cave, and the biggest one held the Elders. Four rough looking guards stood watch outside of the building holding metallic looking weapons, and horse-playing. They weren't paying attention when Kal-El walked up to them. When Kal-El approached them, the men snapped to attention, and came to a fumbling salute. The general didn't bother saluting them back because of their unkempt uniforms. The soldiers stood in front of the general with wrinkled uniforms, messy hair, and dingy faces. When he noticed their tattered, unkempt uniforms, he did everything within his powers to stay calm.
"You men disgust me," he said with a seething grimace. The smell of fear oozed off the guards, but Kal-El didn't care. He looked at the highest ranking guy out the corner of his eyes, and then said, "I should demote you with a beheading right on the spot." He placed his right hand on the guard's shoulder. "Know this! You'll die with this world."
Kal-El continued into the building, down the hall, and into a chamber that held the Elders. The Elder's chamber was the heart of Kryptonian knowledge. The twelve men were the pinnacle of intelligence, but they didn't always take the most intelligent path for the Kryptonian people. The twelve men were eating their meals when Kal-El arrived in his full military garb. They sat behind a nice table with crystal like controls in front of each Elder. The smell emanating from their food was hideous to the general, and he grimaced. The head Elder's name was Sa-Lak, a white haired guy who was the oldest person on the council, and bitter. Looking up at Kal-El, he cleared his throat, and then spoke.
"What's the meaning of this intrusion?" Sa-Lak asked as he used his tongue to remove the food particles off his teeth. Wiping the remaining crumbs from his mouth with a cloth, he leaned forward, and continued sucking on his front teeth, he snapped: "You answer me, General!"
"Krypton is my reason … the people," Kal-El said in a brittle voice. Beads of sweat poured off his head, and he appeared to be agitated. Approaching the council menacingly, Sa-Lak tensed up, and Kal-El read the expression on his face as weakness. It disgusted him more than ever.
"Keep your distance." Sa-Lak's eyes were huger than usually, and he nearly stumbled backwards.
"You fear me?" Kal-El looked around the room at the twelve Elders with a grinning grimace on his chiseled face, and laughed in a dark, insidious manner. All of the Elders looked at him with an angry glare, but it didn't phase him. He continued to mark them. "Cowards," he voiced with utter disgust of the men who stood in front of him. "You cowardly men are what's standing in the way of our survival as a people?"
Sa-Lak jumped to his feet, and asked in a forceful manner, "How dare you, Son of Jar-El? Your disrespect will force me to ask for your resignation."
"And I will proudly give it," he said as he clasped his sword with his rugged hands. He pulled the sharp blade from its sheath, and pointed it to Sa-Lak. Charging at Sa-Lak, he removed the Elder's head from his body, and it rolled off the table, onto the floor, and in front of Kal-El. The Elder's eyes were still open, and the other Elders screamed in fear. He shrugged his broad shoulders at the lifeless head on the ground—kicking it against the far wall. He pointed his blade at all the other Elders as they tried to evade his approach. Sliding his sword back into its sheath, and pulled out his phaser—grinning menacingly. Gasping for air, gnashing of the teeth, pleading for mercy—Kal-El fired upon the Elders with deadly precision—killing them one by one.
By the time Kal-El made it back to his decrepit vessel, his ignoble deed had all ready spread through the colonies, and the media meant to vilify him. When he landed his small craft into the bay, several soldiers stood on the launch pad—armed. The four soldiers—huge in size—wore body suits that enhanced their powers. He didn't have the ability to overtake all four men when in their exoskeleton suits because they were designed to withstand a blow from the man-bots. They took him into custody almost immediately, and he didn't dare say a word. He pulled off his protective gear, and threw the helmet at one of the soldiers, and noticed a crew of loyal supporters peeking into the bay's door.
"You've killed all hope," one of the soldiers replied.
Kal-El laughed. "I've given you hope." With an indignant look about him, he screeched, "You should thank me for showing Krypton the way."
When the bay door slid open, several laser beams hit the four guards in the face, and they fell to the ground—dead. Without the protective face shield and helmets the occupants of the exoskeletons didn't have full protection. Kal-El looked at the dead soldiers, and then told the two assassins, "Prepare the ship to leave Krypton. We only have a few hours."
The crew on the bridge didn't say anything when Kal-El entered the room except bring the bridge to attention. He gave the order for everybody to continue with their duties, and prepared the ship to leave orbit. Some of the soldiers gave him an awkward stare when he commanded them to bring the ship online, and then a soldier by the name of Kara walked over to him. She had a round face with dark hair, round eyes, full lips, and a small nose. She stood approximately sixty seven inches, but was in excellent shape.
"Sir, what are you doing?" She asked forcefully.
"We're leaving," he said with a grimace on his face. Looking out the window at the generators, he replied, "You can leave the ship if you have a problem."
Standing next to him while he sat back down in his commander's chair, she asked, "What about the man-bots? You think they'll let us through."
"We'll bust through," he said, "Now patch me into every news station on the planet."
Kal-El stood in the middle of the busy bridge with all the television stations on the planet viewing him, and Kara stood next to him. "Citizens of Krypton, in approximately two hours, the generators powering the shields will stop running." He paused for a moment to swallow. "The radiation will destroy all life on Krypton. If you have a ship, a conveyance that can leave Krypton, I order you to do so at this time. Flee the galaxy, find a yellow star, and procreate. Spread the Kryptonian seed throughout the universe, so we may survive."
"So, Kara, are you with me?" Kal-El asked in a low, guttural voice. He placed his large, rugged hands on her shoulders, and she had a look of insecurity on her face.
"Yes, sir," she snapped.
"We're all with you, sir," Officer Ric-Un replied. He was an older officer with bushy hair, and he was somewhat like Kal-El in wanting to leave Krypton. He spent a lot of time working on the shield with Kal-El, and he never removed his exoskeleton. Slightly taller than Kal-El, he worked on bringing the ship's engines online. He was the only bridge officer always prepared for battle.
"Sir, my men are working diligently to bring the engines online," Ric-Un said with a dismayed look on his face. He placed his right hand on Kal-El's left shoulder. "Only a stroke of luck ..."
"I believe in you, old friend," Kal-El interrupted. "You'll bring the engines online because you want us to survive as much as I do."
Kara walked over to the window, and smiled sheepishly. "Look, sir. Ships are leaving Krypton."
The entire space around Krypton lit up with thousands of vessels leaving the planet, and Kal-El never expected so many souls would leave. There were small vessels, large vessels, oblong vessels, short vessels, boxy vessels, circular vessels, and so on. They all had one mission: save the Kryptonian race. It was a thing of beauty in his mind, and he smiled with every ship that left the planet. Suddenly, he saw a ship exiting his battleship, and asked Kara, "What's that?"
She looked at the ship, and read the log on her tablet computer, and then paused.
"Who is it?" Kal-El asked forcefully.
"Your wife, sir."
He stumbled over to his command chair, placed his hands on his sweaty forehead, and then said, "Should have prepared for this."
"I can lead a crew to retrieve her?" Kara asked.
"She made her choice," Kal-El replied in a stern voice.
When several of the vessels flew into space, a group of man-bots appeared on the radar. The ships that had the ability to jump did; but the ones that didn't have a hyper-drive fought valiantly against the man-bots. At the same time, the engines of the Battleship came online, and Kal-El could feel the energy underneath his feet. The man-bot's lasers ripped through the void, and slammed into several vessels ripping them into shreds.
Without even giving the order, several officers from the bridge ran into the armory located on the second floor, and put on their exoskeletons. The entire crew armed up for battle with the two man-bots who were heading towards them. It didn't take long for the man-bots to descend upon the Kryptonian vessels, and they destroy sixteen ships almost immediately upon their arrival.
The battleship opened fire on the man-bots, but had a hard time hitting the fast moving targets. An array of battle ready soldiers took flight into space, and attacked one of the man-bots. They used sophisticated lasers that tore through the man-bots' armor, and disabled them.
By the time the soldiers made it back to the ship, a crack in the red sun was visible from the battleship, and Kal-El ordered the pilots to take the battleship into hyper-drive. The young men sat at the controls of the ship, and clicked on several buttons. Suddenly, the sun exploded, and the ship went into hyper-drive at the same time. It didn't take long for the ship to come out of hyper-drive, but when it did, they realized they weren't in the same universe. The readings on the ship were nothing like they had ever seen before, and it made them nervous.
"Ja-Ne, where are we?" Kal-El asked the astute pilot.
He turned to Kal-El, and said, "The black Kryptonight from the sun caused us to jump dimensions." He looked at his controls for a minute, and said, "I have no understanding of these readings." He tapped the computer monitor feverishly, and then said, "We're in Kryptonian space, but in another dimension."
Kal-El looked out the window of the battleship, and saw deep pockets of space debris floating around the ship; it was nothing more than chunks of meteor rocks that Ja-Ne would have to traverse through. "Then this must be debris from another Krypton," he said in a guttural voice.
Kara—looking through a scope—analyzed the debris, and then said, "It's nearly fifty-years old, the debris, sir."
"There is nothing here," Kal-El ordered, "Ja-Ne, take us out of here."
After two years of traveling through the emptiness of space, the crew grew restless. The uniforms no longer glistened, and their shoes became torn and tattered. The crew went into survival mode, and did everything within their powers to preserve their food sources. All they had left after three years of traveling was remnants of food. At this point, Kal-El wanted to find a planet with a yellow sun, but it was harder than he had expected. They traveled over three light years, but didn't have a clue how long it would take them to find a habitable planet orbiting a yellow sun. The crew's faces had become emaciated because of lack of quality food. The supplies had run out almost two years into the trek across the universe, and now they ate whatever they could find—including bugs hidden in crevices on the ship. It was nine hundred and thirty days into the voyage across the dark skies when Kara viewed a habitable planet orbiting a yellow sun. She looked worn, tattered, and her lips chaffed. The dirt clung to her bony hands, and she moved with slow movements like an old woman. The crew was tired, and several of them had passed away from starvation.
"Sir, we're three days out from a habitable planet orbiting a yellow star," Kara said with a gleam in her eyes.
He nodded to her, but didn't say a word. He continued watching the planet on his screen, and wondered what kind of lifeforms he'd find. He felt a little overwhelmed by the discovery of a new planet; but at the same time, he felt a great sense of relief. For so long, the crew had traveled through a new dimension without any luck of finding a planet; and now that one lay in front of them, he had a loss of words.
The battleship took orbit around the planet, and Kal-El, Kara, and Ja-Ne went down to the planet in a shuttle craft with Kal-El's family emblem on both sides. It was a primitive world, a world without any advance technology, and men on horseback. They landed in a dense jungle with plenty of edible vegetation. Kara picked a large, green apple off of a tree, and analyzed it with her tablet computer. A green light appeared on the screen, and she took a bite of it. She giggled with each bite.
"Is it good, Kara?" Kal-El asked with a smile.
"Indeed. It's like nothing I've ever tasted."
Kal-El reached up, snatched two shiny apples off the tree, and tossed Ja-Ne one. At first Ja-Ne squinted his eyes as if he was frighten to take a bite of the green fruit, and then he sniffed it. Kal-El looked at him with a smirk, and took a chomp of his apple, and chewed it in a slow, methodical motion.
"Not bad," Kal-El said with a smile.
The apples were plentiful, and covered the entire tree. It wasn't the only apple tree in the jungle either. When Kal-El looked around the high weeds, he could see several trees bearing fruit. It made him happy because he knew he'd be able to feed his crew something. Ja-Ne bit into his apple after Kal-El and Kara survived eating theirs, and the juices ran down his face. He consumed it like a man starving, and then he grabbed another one. Kal-El stopped walking for a moment because he thought he heard something. Suddenly, a flood of noises overwhelmed his senses, and he fell to the ground. Everything made an extreme amount of noise to him, and it caused him to become disoriented.
"Do you hear that?" He asked.
Kare listened for a moment, and then said, "Our abilities are growing."
"Indeed," Kal-El said, "Our senses are taking in everything."
After walking through the jungle for about thirty minutes, it started to rain. It was a cool rain that the crew enjoyed. They saw a water source that had fresh water that they could use. Ja-Ne was the first person to take a drink of the water, and he enjoyed enjoyed it. He stuck his face into the water; and when he pulled it out, he was covered with leeches. It didn't take much to pull them off because they didn't have the ability to penetrate his skin.
By the time Ja-Ne pulled all the black leeches off his face, Kal-El noticed a group of tenebrous humanoid creatures standing in the tree-lines with spears that had green tips for the head. The tips of the spears glowed green, and had a razor sharp edge to them. They stood nearly seven-feet tall with long, thick dark hair. When the men trudged through the tall weeds, Kal-El's nose started to bleed, and he quickly fell to one knee. Kara and Ja-Ne fell flat on their faces, and moaned loudly. The head man in the tribe gave one of his men his staff, and they scurried back into the tree-line.
"Kryptonians," the leader said with a smile. He picked Kal-El off the ground, and set him against a large rock, but the Kryptonian looked wobbly. The leader was a tall, thin man with dark skin and long woolly hair. His digits looked longer than a normal humans, and his frontal lobe protruded outwardly. He had a red tint to his eyes that made him look much older than the rest of the people in his tribe. He towered above Kal-El. Kal-El could barely open his eyes because of the effects of the Kryptonite, but was able to make out the man's features through a series of struggling stares. The leader gave him a piece of cloth in order to wipe the blood from his nose.
"What happened?" Kal-El asked with a grimace. Grabbing the cloth, he wiped his nose until he removed all the blood. He continued to feel weak—even though he didn't see any visible kryptonite around him. Nudging Kara, she grunted a little, and then stood to her feet slowly. Ja-Ne was the last one off the ground, and he sat next to the bolder, and didn't stand for awhile.
The leader looked Kal-El in the eyes, and said in a strong voice, "What do want on my world, Kryptonian?"
"Food for my people," he said. Kal-El searched the area with his super vision, and saw glowing, radioactive green rocks underneath the soil. He knew under a yellow sun that the radiation would eventually kill him and his crew.
"You don't want to be here, on Higgus Prime," the leader said in a terse tone. He kicked back some dirt, and it exposed a radioactive rock. Kal-El and his crew stepped backwards, away from the radioactive stone. It set in the dirt, and looked menacing to them. "When your Krypton exploded, it covered my world in this green rock."
"It'll kill us," Kal-El said with a grimace.
"As it nearly did the other Kryptonians who tried to rule Higgus Prime," the leader said with a serious look on his face. "Using their powers to turn us into slaves."
"What happen to them?" Kara asked.
"Some died," the leader said, "The rest left, and deemed Higgus Prime a loss. Zod, sent a warning to all Kryptonians to stay clear of Higgus, but obviously, you didn't hear the warning."
"Zod?" Kal-El asked. "He's alive?"
The leader shrugged his shoulders as if he didn't know. "This happened fifty-years ago."