-1Fait Accompli Chapter 5: Extreme Measures
Author: Brdwaybebe
Spoilers: SII and then it goes AU ... WAY AU.
Word Count: 3,065 words
Rating: PG
Notes: Thanks to my wonderful beta; Saavikam who never fails to amaze me with her knowledge. I learn something every time she looks over my work. I'm eternally grateful to her for her patience and all around awesomeness!

Sunday comes quickly! This week was a bit of a nail biter! I was worried I wouldn't make my deadline when all of a sudden: Kablam! It nearly finished itself! But sadly the timing of that didn't allow for me to send out a chapter preview this week. Maybe I'll send previews to two people next week

We are starting now to get into the question answering part of the story. I am SO excited, but working hard not to rush into everything that needs to be said. I am thankful for all the feedback - it's really helping me establish a pace for this! Thank you guys for being so awesome!

And now: Chapter 5! I hope you like it!

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Fait Accompli Chapter 5: Extreme Measures
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"Before we get into the past, Kal-El, we must see to the present and ensure your future." Avesa sat on a small stool beside the bed and began to work at the linens wrapped around his shin.

Kal-El groaned as she gingerly pressed against the wound on his leg. The limb itself was encased within two firm wooden planks that held it in place. The flesh, once covered by bandages was now exposed to the air and Avesa's skilled gaze.

"This was among the worst breaks I have seen in all my days as a healer." Her gaze traced the jagged gash on his shin where his bone had at one time protruded. Neat, precise stitches lined the ridge of the joined flesh which was still an angry riot of reds and purples.

As he watched her work, Kal-El sent up a silent thanks that he had not been awake for the procedure that had returned the bone to its rightful position.

"It appears the bone is setting properly, but it is imperative that you do not move the leg as it heals. I will need to formulate a casing to prevent the appendage from moving and thereby disrupting the healing process. However, there is an aggressive infection that has taken root beneath the skin. I have been monitoring since we brought you here, it was this very infection that caused your fever. Unless it is treated, the wound will grow septic, possibly reaching your blood and further threatening your life. I have seen many such infections before." Her expression was guarded but there was no mistaking the haunted look in her eyes.

His breath caught slightly as a thread of worry looped around his lungs. This was hardly a cutting edge facility. He could only imagine the difficulties she'd had to deal with in such a place. "Were you able to treat them?" Kal-El asked. He tried and failed to keep his gaze from finding its way to the discolored and oozing flesh of his leg, and his stomach lurched at the sight.

Avesa nodded distractedly, her focus inward as she made her way once again to the wooden stand in the corner. The woman plucked a few cloths from the cabinets and gathered a few bottles. "For the most part… The treatment is highly effective, but nearly unparalleled in its pain, I'm afraid." Her expression was grave.

Suddenly, a figure appeared in the entranceway to the tent. A skittish young lady stood uncertainly just inside the speckled canvas. He judged her to be in her late teens. She was dark of hair and eye, her rich chocolate hair hanging nearly to her waist within the confines of a thick braid. The girl had a willowy frame and so slight was she, that it seemed that any wayward gust of wind could easily carry her away.

In her hands she clutched a small clay jar. Her lips were pursed, held tightly between her teeth as she looked to Avesa for reassurance. Clearly the presence of a stranger had set the entire encampment on edge.

Avesa followed Kal-El's gaze and waved the girl forward. "Ah. This is Zimna." Avesa said, "She is not as talkative as her sister, but she misses very little." The older woman encouraged the girl with a gentle smile.

Zimna stepped forward, her eyes taking in everything. When her stoic gaze found his, Kal-El gave a small smile that went unreciprocated. She handed the clay jar to Avesa.

"Zimna, if you would…" The healer gestured to the small chair beside the bed. Zimna hesitated only a moment before taking her place just beside his head.

Avesa turned her eyes once again to him, raising the jar into his line of vision. "We have found the natural surroundings of the forest to be very accommodating when it comes to healing herbs and various medicines. But we have yet to find anything as adept at warding off infection as this creature."

She removed the top from the jar and tilted it in his direction. In the dim light of the tent, at first the container appeared to be empty. As his eyes adjusted, he saw something very small skittering around the inside of the jar.

"The deeju beetle has a defensive secretion that wards off predators. We have also found its ability to combat infection and promote healing incredibly effective. It is so powerful that the results far outweigh the discomfort of its application." Her gaze dropped to the gaping expanse of his wound.

Kal-El's eyes widened as they lifted to his caretaker. She can't be serious.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zimna wince slightly. She reached within the folds over her skirt and produced a long round stick. "Here, bite down on this." Zimna murmured softly, offering the barest ghost of a smile. She placed the stick between his teeth and took his hand in hers.

Avesa dribbled a bit of what felt like oil over the wound. A warm sensation spread over the skin and it began to tingle slightly. "This will help to numb the pain somewhat," she said, her eyes flashing apologetically as she snipped at a stitch or two with a tiny pair of scissors.

He could see the anxiety in both of their faces, wondering perhaps how violently his reaction would come. Trust was coming by necessity rather than experience. Kal-El took a deep breath and braced himself. He smiled nervously at Avesa and nodded his ascent.

Avesa's head dipped slightly in recognition and she lowered the surface of the jar to the entrance of the wound. She tapped the bottom of the vessel once, twice, before a tiny black form fell from the container onto his leg.

His heart slammed against the wall of his chest as he felt the tiny creature's legs tickling across the surface of his skin. A thin sheen of sweat burst forth on his forehead as the beetle slipped inside.

Curious sensation bloomed into mild discomfort. Mild discomfort ignited into the sizzling burn of pain. He held his breath as bit by bit the flame graduated into an inferno that spread over every inch of his leg. His teeth sank into the wood between his teeth and a low growl of agony erupted from his throat.

The pain seemed to be everywhere. Frantic nerve endings sent out panicking signals all over his body until his entire being seemed to thrum in rhythm with the symphony of misery. Zimna's grip was surprisingly strong for such a delicate girl as she clasped her hands around his, returned his force with that of her own.

Kal-El was dimly aware through the haze of pain that Avesa was mopping the sweat from his brow, murmuring words of encouragement. After what seemed an eternity, he felt her hands working at the heart of his agony. There were a series of sharp pricks as she pulled the creature from the depths of his flesh and replaced it in the jar.

His entire body shook with pain and exhaustion, the residue left behind by the beetle still laying siege to his insides. Wheezing, labored gasps puffed against Zimna's hair, sending it to swaying back and forth in front of his pain-glazed eyes. His gaze fell to her hand which was still wrapped around his, her fingers red from the pressure of his grip.

With a long, slow intact of breath, he loosened his hold on the girl's fingers. He lifted his eyes to hers in a mixture of apology and gratitude. The young woman's face softened into a smile, with a gentle shake of her head she rose from her place beside him and made her way out of the tent.

"She likes you," Avesa noted as she sank into the now vacant chair at the head of the cot. "And it is a boon in your favor to earn her regard. Zimna is well known to be an excellent judge of character." The healer smiled down at him. She dipped a fresh cloth in a basin of water and squeezed it out before applying it to his forehead.

Kal-El answered with a smile of his own. "Then I'm glad to have stumbled into her good graces." He glanced down at his leg. The pain had significantly diminished, and thanks to Avesa's handy work, the wound was clean and sealed once again. "Thank you, Avesa…for all of this. I owe you an enormous debt of gratitude."

"You are most welcome Kal-El." She said sincerely. "Though I could hardly leave you to die in the wilderness, my husband tells me I have soft spot for strays." Her eyes sparkled in amusement.

Avesa began to place various ingredients into a large bowl. As she added and stirred intermittently, a thick brown paste began to take shape. Slathering strips of linen into the mixture, she began to gingerly wrap them around his leg. A pungent vapor rose from the bowl, causing Kal-El's nostrils to flare with distaste.

Avesa's melodious laugh filled the tent. "It is not the most pleasing of odors, to be sure, but it will harden and protect your wound as it heals. The smell will disappear with the moisture, I assure you."

They settled into an easy hush. He watched her as she meticulously settled each strip around his limb in and ever-widening cast.

It was some time later before he finally broke the quiet. "I came here searching for life," he chuckled gently in self-deprecation. "I was hoping to sweep in and rescue my people. And here I am, being rescued myself." he said softly, his gaze seeking hers.

Avesa was silent a moment, pretending to be wholly focused on her work as she prepared her response. Her tongue darted out to whet her lips and she peered at him from behind a strip of linen. "Perhaps you may still accomplish your mission." She exhaled. "Kal-El, there is much you do not yet know and I struggle to find the words to tell you."

"Perhaps you can begin with telling me how you came to know of the House of El…" he murmured.

"The House of El is regarded highly by anyone who calls themselves Kryptonian." She cast a glance to the door of the tent before continuing. "And that is what we are, Kal-El. We are the last remnant of that once promising civilization."

Shock knifed through him, ripping the air from his lungs. "But, how? The crystals my father sent with me said that Krypton had been destroyed. I had still a long way to go before reaching where the planet was supposed to have been--"

"Your father sent those crystals with you without the full knowledge of how the story would end, Kal-El. When Jor-El first brought forth the warning about our planet's fate, he was met with disbelief and mockery by our high council. Our proud accomplishments had made us proud and haughty, unwilling to believe that anything in the cosmos was more powerful than we…"

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"I beseech you, esteemed members of the council, to give ear to my plea and join with me to save our planet, as even now she begins the throes of her demise!" Jor-El's eyes flashed passionately, his hand arcing through the air.

"Oh Jor-El, perhaps you have spent too much time in that laboratory of yours and the lack of sunlight has affected your reason." A giant projection displayed the contemptuous face of a thin, balding man on the smooth surface of a crystalline wall.

A smattering of laughter echoed off the halls of the council's main chamber.

"Leave this place. You disgrace yourself and your family by continuing to pursue this pursuit of weakness and cowardice," another added with disgust.

"Cowardice??" Jor-El's face grew flushed with anger. "I stand before you the sole voice of reason in a society that is so enamored with its own image and accomplishments that it will not ask a glance to the side and view the dangers that bear down upon it!"

"Mind your tongue, Jor-El. You forget yourself and speak out of your station." The incredulous voice of a middle-aged woman rang through the air. "We have humored your paranoid ramblings long enough. Now begone and let this be the last time you darken our door with such insanity."

Jor-El stood before them as still as a statue, his jaw set and his breathing heavy. He cast one last glare in the direction of the council before turning on his heel and stalking from the main chamber of the so-called high council.

His midnight cloak snapped around his ankles as he briskly made his way down the shining hallways of what was, for all intents and purposes, a castle. Fools. Their world was doomed. And they would do nothing. But he would not make the same mistake. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't see Teivel until he was nearly upon him.

"Jor-El. A word." The young noble fell into step beside him. His long black hair was pulled into a neat and sleek ponytail at the base of his skull. A finely trimmed beard lined the border of his mouth, giving him the constant appearance of a scowl. He was tall, but wiry, his long black clothing giving the appearance of perhaps more height than he possessed. Teivel was an ambitious man, and not a man Jor-El's instincts found to be entirely trustworthy. More times than a few, Teivel's ambition had led him onto paths that Jor-El feared would one day lead him into darkness.

Jor-El did not slow his gate. "Not now, Teivel. I am in no mood to be mocked any further. The council you hold in such high esteem has spoken. They have sentenced our world to death to save their own miserable pride and I will not stand by and watch it happen."

"Lower your voice, my friend. I heard everything that went on and know very well how thin is the ice on which you find yourself. You are one rash word away from being charged with treason."

"Treason." The scientist stopped in his tracks. "Not a week ago I was the final authority in the banishment of three of our planet's greatest enemies, and today I am in danger of treason?" Jor-El laughed humorlessly. "Perhaps Rao has been wise to choose this fate for us. Perhaps the best course for our heritage is its demise..."

Teivel grabbed him by the arm. "You don't mean that. Jor-El, I have never known you to be a man of passion. You must come to your senses and hold your tongue. My plan requires that you have all your mental facilities about you."

Jor-El calmly pulled his arm from the younger man's grip. He began walking again, slower this time, his silence giving encouragement for the nobleman to speak.

"I believe your findings are correct. You have never once come to the council with anything but the truth. Your brilliance has known no bounds and your successes--"

"Do not flatter me, Teivel. Make your case and be on your way. I have much work to do and precious little time in which to complete it." Jor-El said wearily.

"I would like to lend a hand in the effort to save our civilization." Teivel paused, glancing out of the corner of his eye to gauge Jor-El's reaction. "When you first reported your findings, I utilized my vast wealth to procure a large sector of Myriad mountain and have begun a dig. If you are unable to design a craft that will take us to the safety of unknown space, I propose we fortify ourselves within the mountain, perhaps it will be our best chance of survival."

Jor-El made a sound in his throat. "You focus your energies in a foolish direction my friend. The planet is indeed perishing, and my calculations for the most part have predicted it to be an end that will go unparalleled in its violence." He rubbed his eyes. "Krypton will explode. A bunker lodged in the side of a mountain will only provide us with a more decorative tomb."

Teivel quickened his step to stand before Jor-El. "Ah yes, but you say for the most part. There is a chance that in my shelter, we could somehow survive should the end come in an unexpected and less violent fashion." He put his hand on Jor-El's shoulder, his black eyes glinting in the light of the hall.

The patriarch of the House of El drew in a long, slow breath. He would give anything to believe such a possibility existed. He had been working for months on a vessel design that would somehow rescue his people. Under the ever-increasingly watchful eye of the council, he had made slow progress. There simply wasn't enough time to formulate the crystal needed for such a venture. In a week's time he would have a pod hardly big enough to contain the tiny form of his newborn son. It all seemed so hopeless.

Perhaps there was some merit to Teivel's plan.

Jor-El exhaled. "How long would it take for you to have this fortification ready to receive inhabitants?" he asked.

A smirk jumped to Teivel's features and in a blink it was gone, once again replaced by a carefully blank expression. "No more than a week. I have had my men working on this project from the beginning as I said." He bowed his head in false humility. "And with your blessing, Jor-El, we will continue. I pray that as the time comes, you and your family will be among the first to take shelter there. Should Rao be merciful, and we survive, the new world would be best served with one such as yourself in a place of leadership," he purred.

"I have no desire for the titles to which you aspire, Teivel," Jor El said flatly. "But go. Continue with your plan. And pray we never need to implement it."