Disclaimer: I do not own either Young Justice or its related characters. Such are the property of DC Comics, Warner Bros. Entertainment and Cartoon Network. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit entertainment.
Signals
Chapter Fourteen:
The Pentagon
April 2 – 11:45 am
The War Room beneath the Pentagon was filled with a steady rush of noise as communications technicians received updates from American bases, what had been hit, what hadn't, what kind of weaponry they had and if they could coordinate with other forces. Monitor screens lined that walls and displayed maps of the United States, North America and the world. Areas that had been hit were marked and color-coded by importance of the site and severity of the attack. Other screens projected video feeds of the battles, while yet others ran civilian news coverage of the attacks (on mute with subtitles).
All the noises and sounds coming from so many sources made it difficult for Clark to focus on any one thing. He concentrated on his hearing for a moment, his mind switching on that metaphorical dial that dampened his super-hearing. The War Room suddenly became nothing more than an obnoxious hum in the back of his mind. The Superman, instead, gave his attention to studying the video feeds of the battles. He was looking for one thing in particular, one person, actually. But there was no hint of a black uniform amid all that swarming green and gold. If Kon-El were participating in any of the attacks, he was keeping a low profile.
Bruce came up behind him and placed a hand on his red-caped shoulder.
Clark re-adjusted his hearing to focus only on the man that now stood next to him. It was a little difficult because he also couldn't help, letting in the rest of the War Room's den, but he tried his best to only listen to the Batman.
"Any sign of him?" He was speaking low, his mouth barely moving, and he spoke in Kryptonese. (Clark sometimes forgot that Bruce had learned to speak it, too.) Obviously, the Caped Crusader didn't want the rest of the cabinet to overhear their conversation and if they did, he was making sure they didn't understand a word of it.
"Zha." –No. Clark answered, also speaking low (though he was sure to speak loud enough for a normal human like Bruce to hear him over the background noise).
"Then put him out of your mind for the time being. When he does finally show himself you can rush off to face him without pausing to think of a plan or telling me where you're going –in classic Superman-style. But until then, I need you in the here-and-now."
Clark reached a hand behind himself to run his fingers over the MP3 playing head-phones that hung from his belt. He wanted to go look for his wayward son, not stand in a stuffy strategy room arguing over logistics and playing the blame-game with Waller and Lane. "You don't really need me here. I would do more good out in the field."
"We can debate your Messiah Complex later, too."
…
Watchtower
April 2 – (irrelevant)
Superboy-Dark understood why he had been taken off the mission. But he hated being kept in the dark as to the mission's status. He was nowhere near as good a hacker as his former Teammate, Robin, (in fact, he couldn't really 'hack' at all) but he could gimmick the comm panel and rig it to a datapad he'd found in the room. That way he would have a one-way feed directly from the bridge's main control consol projected on the pad's touch-screen.
The image was a bit fuzzier than he would have liked, but it was clear enough. What was important was that Superboy-Dark now knew what was going on. He tapped the touch-screen just to see if it really was a one-way connection. His attempt made no effect. He could see and hear but not be seen or heard in return. That was fine. In fact, it was probably better that way. He was pretty sure, since being removed from the project, he wasn't actually supposed to be kept in the 'know' anymore.
The Parademon troops had seemed to be doing an adequate job. That was, until the Earth's Justice League showed up and started interfering. He would have thought that it would have taken them longer to rally. With all their bases destroyed and their teleportation wonder-tech under Granny's control, where could they have rendezvous to plan anything? The answer hit Superboy-Dark like a boot to the head –the Batcave. He never had been able to find the location of the Batman's secret hideout, the Dark Knight was far to careful for that. In a situation like the one he had created for the League, of course the Batman would be forced to use his own private base as rendezvous point for the rest of his comrades. …and aside from being in or near Gotham City, he had no idea where that base could be.
But the Superboy-Dark tried to put that thought out of his mind. There was nothing he could do about that so there was no point in worrying about it. He once again focused his attention on the battles going on Earth-side.
…
Camp Pendleton, California
April 2 – 11:23 am
"You all understand what needs to be done." Miss Martian announced in a more commanding tone than she was used to using. She offered a curt nod to the communications techs in the base's battle room and they set to work relaying her orders to their men in the field. One looked up at her with the barest hint of a question on his face, but his aura radiated a curious confusion that had nothing to do with the task at hand. "Something on your mind, soldier?"
"No, Sir, Martian Manhunter, Sir!" He answered quickly in the fashion that had been trained into him. Then paused, looked sheepish. "Its just… some of us were wondering why you're posing as a teenaged girl, Sir."
M'gann had absolutely no idea how to respond to that. She might have been on Earth for almost a year now, but working on a covert Team, she had never really been introduced to the public as Martian Manhunter's niece, in fact, she had never been introduced to the public at all. No one knew who the hell she was, all they knew was that she had showed-up with Red Tornado of the Justice League and had the Manhunter's powers. So, the obvious conclusion was that she was the Martian Manhunter in an eccentric form. She offered no explanation to the communications tech and exited the battle room to rejoin the actual battle.
Red Tornado had created a spiraling vortex of crimson colored wind that was quickly sucking all the Parademons into one area of the sky. She watched and waited, as the air currents spiraled and swirled around the enemy, forcing them into closer quarters until finally they were pressed so close to gether they couldn't fly and the only thing holding them up was Tornado's power.
She sent a thought to the communications tech. The comm officers relayed her orders to the ground tanks.
The tanks had been gathered on the field directly below the churning mass of Parademons, their barrels trained on the enemy. On Miss Martian's command they all fired at once. The sky exploded as the M1 Abrams pelted the creatures, their shells exploding on impact. Tornado released his vortex and as the smoke and crimson air cleared over a third of the monsters fell to the dirt, unmoving. M'gann wondered if they were dead or not and hoped that they weren't, League policy aside, she did not want to think of herself as a killer.
But she didn't have time to dwell on that now. They had incapacitated a fraction of the enemy's force, but two thirds still remained for them to deal with. She had to keep her head in the game.
…
Pearl Harbor Hickam, Hawaii
April 2 – 11:30
Aqualad managed to hold the water back and keep the carrier afloat long enough for the crew to evacuate. The strain from performing such heavy magic took its toll on his and when the luminescent blue glow faded from his tattoos, the marks sizzled and steamed a bit on his skin. He would not be performing any more sorcery or using his water-bearers for some time after this.
After he let go and the torrent of water came rushing back in to claim the ship, Kaldur waited a few moments for the aft bay he was in to fill with cold salty sea water, it soothed the burn in his tattoos and he breathed easier. He swam out of the wide open gash in the hull and resurfaced to find that the Green Lantern had managed to trap all of the attacking Parademons in one massive glowing green cage.
They spat and snarled and clawed in every which direction, sometimes lashing out at the cage, sometimes at each other.
Aqualad looked at the Lantern. "What do we do with them now?"
…
The Pentagon
April 2 – 12:11 pm"Message from Pearl Harbor!" The soundproof glass door to the conference room was thrown open by one excited looking communications officer. "One of the Green Lanterns and Aquaman's side-kick have apprehended the entire monster force that had hit the base there!"
All eyes in the room turned to him.
He was fat from a career spent at a desk, middle aged, balding, large glasses not even Clark Kent would wear and stank of nervous sweat. But he looked optimistic. He was also looking, not at the Secretary of Defense or any of his country's other military officials that were gathered in the room, but rather Batman and Superman –the World's Finest team. He was asking them what Green Lantern should do with the captured Parademons.
"How many in total?" Asked the Batman. It wasn't like they had a lot of options as far as imprisoning went and it was the League's creed that 'All life is precious', so they weren't about to kill the creatures. Bruce suppressed the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as he felt an on-coming stress headache. This was one concern he'd rather not deal with.
"Some hundred." Answered the comm tech.
The Batman did not groan, but he wanted to. The Superman whistled. "That's a might large sum of POWs. And just from one battle…"
Waller stood, an opportunistic gleam in her dark eyes. "Checkmate can handle them." She announced proudly and did not give the Batman a pointed look of triumph as she passed him by. "Put me in touch with the Lantern and I'll give him the coordinates to where he can drop them."
As they exited the door was left ajar and Clark tweaked his hearing to zero in on the madness of the communications room, listening for any indication of Kon amid the chaos of the invasion. His hands gripped the blue fabric of his tights in tense apprehension as he continued to hear nothing about his wayward 'son'.
Under the table, Bruce placed one leather and Kevlar gloved hand over his and spoke in Kryptonese, "Relax. The League knows to call us the moment he turns up. There's no use worrying until then."
"Na-kluv." –Thanks. Clark muttered, not feeling reassured in the least. Just because the League hadn't spotted him didn't mean he wasn't out there and Clark wanted to make sure he got to the boy before anyone like Waller or Lane sunk their claws into him.
"Speak words we can all understand!" Snapped General Lane, not liking one bit the fact that the World's Finest had their own 'secret language' and could be plotting who-knows-what right in front of him.
…
Watchtower
April 2 – (irrelevant)
Superboy-Dark's hands clenched around the datapad he had rigged up. The screen cracked slightly under the strain, but he failed to notice.
They were lousing.
The armies of mighty Darksied were lousing!
Miss Martian and Red Tornado were decimating the Parademon troopers in California, Robin alone had taken out more than a fair few in Florida (and he was just one boy with not powers!), with Kid Flash they were twice as effective. Aqualad and one of the Green Lanterns had completely subdued their forces in Hawaii. Batman and Superman… Superman and Batman… Kal and his partner had cleared the Pentagon of Parademons in less time than it took to give himself this little recap!
He should not have been removed from the mission. They needed him. If not his leadership then at the very least his powers and knowledge of the enemy. His first fight with Kal had already proved that the Man of Steel would not use his full strength against him, a handicap that gave the side of Apokolips a great advantage. Superboy-Dark tossed the datapad on the desk and punch his room's intercom for the bridge.
"This is command. Go ahead." Gilotina's young but sultry voice answered.
He opened his mouth to speak, to tell her that he could still help and to put Granny on the line. But no sound escaped his lips. He grit his teeth in frustration and tried again. No words came, just a strangled-sounding croak. Why couldn't he speak? He had been able to speak perfectly before. Heck! He'd been able to speak multiple languages before! Not just English and Kryptonese, but French and German and Spanish and Arabic and any number of other Earth-born languages. What had happened to him?
"Hello?" Gilotina continued over the comm. "Soldier, I'm having trouble reading you."
Superboy-Dark tried again. Trying his best to will the words to form.
"Li-lis…" His throat closed without the word ever being fully formed. He snarled. Tried again. Nothing but a harsh croak came out. All he was trying to say was 'Listen to me!' how hard was that? Apparently, very hard. He tried again. "Li-lis… Khap ven elir!"
So, apparently, he could only speak when he was speaking Kryptonese. Yeah, that made so much sense! He sighed and rolled his eyes. This was frustrating.
"What?" Gilotina came back, sounding impatient. "Mute, is that you? Get off the line! Stop wasting our time."
She switched off the channel and his room's intercom went dead.
In his frustration, Superboy-Dark slammed his fist into the wall beside the comm. It made a rather impressive dent in the metal plating and he stared at it for a long moment before an idea occurred to him.
…
Watchtower
April 2 – (irrelevant)
Lahina looked over Gilotina's shoulder as she switched off the intercom. "Was that Blue Eyes?"
The silver-haired blade master nodded.
Lashina looked up to make sure Granny wasn't paying any attention to them at present. She wasn't. Her attention was fixed on the battles going on planet side. The Ribbon Warrior looked back to her comrade. "Did he have anything useful to say?"
"Nothing I could understand."
"Then ignore him."
From where she stood watching the view screens projected around her, Granny Goodness gave a snarl of frustration. The Justice League was supposed to have been eliminated in the first phase of the invasion, that was why the Weapon had been placed in a command position in the first place! And it looked like he hadn't even been able to do that! The League was still around and still making a nuisance of itself. Without turning to look at them, Granny called over her shoulder.
"Gilotina, call in the tanks, please."
…
Anacostia-Bolling joint Air Force Naval base
April 2 – 12:20 pm
A loud BOOM rent the air, something similar to the sound barrier being broken and yet at the same time… not. All heads turned to the skies above the base to see a tunnel of light, like a tube, materialize out of nowhere. Out from this Boom Tube came, not more Parademons, but rather large hovering machines with double barreled tank-guns –Doom Tanks.
Wonder Woman paused to gape at the new foe, hovering in mid-air for a moment or two before her warrior's resolve one again hardened and with a fierce Amazonian battle cry, threw herself at the nearest of the Doom Tanks.
Down on the ground, Captain Steve Trevor loaded his last clip into his side arm. "Well, Miss Artemis, I don't suppose you've got an arrow in that quiver with an armor piercing shell?"
"No." The young archer admitted (–though it would have been interested to see how one could be fitted to an arrow without unbalancing the shaft). "But I do have this."
She withdrew an arrow from her dramatically emptied quiver, found higher ground from which to shoot (which was not difficult as the parade field had been littered with bits of enemy and airplane alike from the battle), notched the arrow to her bow, aimed at what she assumed was the tank's view port or visual feed and let the arrow fly. It sailed through the air, arched, looked like it was about to miss, then exploded, showering the front of the Doom Tank in a thick sticky-looking foam.
It wobbled in the air before coming to a standstill, still hovering but unmoving. A hatch was opened and two Parademons came out to pull at the putty Artemis' arrow had left. They were quickly cut down by Wonder Woman.
"Not bad." Trevor nodded. "How many more of those have you got?"
…
NAS Pensacola, Florida
April 2 – 12:31 pm
Kid Flash gaped up at the sky as the heavens opened up to make was for terror and destruction all wrapped up in a menacing black mechanical package. "Oh, we are so boned."
Robin placed a hand on his shoulder and hissed, "Don't say stuff like that around the troops." The Boy Wonder fished in his belt and took out a long cable. One end of this he fastened to his belt-buckle, the other end remained coiled in his hand. "Do you think you can get me up there somehow?"
Wally looked grim, his mouth set in a thin line, down turned into a frown. He regarded Robin skeptically for a moment. Robin could see the wheels in his head turning behind his eyes before, finally, he said, "With super-speed and a Bat on my side, I can do anything."
"Great!" Nodded the Boy Wonder.
"Besides," added the speedster. "If I fail, it won't matter 'cause we'll all die anyway."
…
The Pentagon
April 2 – 12:45 pmNew reports from the field.
After the Parademons had been pushed back, with help from the Justice League, enemy reinforcements started to appear. Large, hovering tanks (for lack of a better term).
General Lane stood from the conference table, his chair tumbling over behind him, unnoticed, his eyes transfixed by the sigh on the view screens projecting in near real-time events that were taking place al over the country –all over the globe, actually. "Oh my god…"
Batman turned to the Superman and muttered, still in Kryptonese, "Still wanna go out into the field?"
"Zhi!" –Yes! And the Man of Steel was out of the room before anyone could say 'Great Scott!' with nothing more to announce his leaving than a rush of air that fluttered the Batman's cape, rustled Faraday's hair and pulled the General's hat from his white and balding head. No sooner had the Superman left, than a red-blue blur was streaking through the Anacostia-Bolling view screen, ripping gun-barrels off tanks and throwing them at yet other tanks.
Happy times.
The Batman stood and wordlessly followed him comrade out at a much more human pace.
Outside, the Dark Knight climbed into the Batwing, which had been left in the southwest lot, kicked up the engines and flew off to join the Man of Steel. The modified Boeing F/A-XX had no guns on it, the Batman detested guns in any form. It was, instead, equipped with a variety of clever gadgets rather much like its pilots own utility belt, just on a much larger scale.
Rather than shoot a missile at the Apokoliptan hover tanks or strafe them with machine gun fire, the Batwing instead launched an oddly colored pellet at one of the tank's gun barrels. The pellet burst on contact, filling barrel shaft with a sticky-gummy substance that, after a few moments exposure to the air, solidified –effectively blocking the tank's barrel so that the next time it attempted to fire, the blast was back-fired into the body of the machine, rather than at its intended target.
Superman caught the disabled tank as it fell, setting the nefarious machine down and welding the hatch shut, trapping the enemy operators inside.
…
Watchtower
April 2 – (irrelevant)
Superboy-Dark paused in his ministrations to glance back at the datapad he had rigged-up. Out of the corner of his eye he could have sworn he saw a flash and red and blue. Sure enough, when he turned to examine the feeds, there was Kal-El smashing though Doom Tanks as if they were particleboard.
He ran a finger over the cracked screen, the desire to go and stand by the Superman's side battling with the mission imperative to destroy him. Superboy-Dark stood there for a long moment, conflicting instincts raging within him. Help Kal. Kill Kal. His shoulders shook and Superboy-Dark didn't know if it was from being cooped up so long or from the internal battle of opposing imperative being waged within him. He didn't know which he should follow, which should be acted on and which should be ignored. It was like they both seemed equally vital to him, and yet they negated each other. He could not have both.
It was like something was broken in his head.
He was a clone. But Kal was his father? He had lived at the Cave. But he had also lived at the Fortress with Kal. He was bred to be a weapon. But he was a 'gift'? His sole mission was to kill Kal. But he wanted nothing more than to fly by his side as an ally. Serve Darksied. Protect Earth… What was wrong with him!
If only Granny had been able to turn Kal to their side. If only his former Team hadn't rescued him. If only this. If only that.
One thing Superboy-Dark did know for certain, he wasn't going to fulfill any of his imperative if he stayed locked in this room. Granny and Lashina wouldn't let him out? Fine. He was the clone (or possibly the son) of Superman, damn it! Doors only held him when he allowed them to!
Superboy-Dark returned his attention to the rather sizeable dent he'd already made in the state-room door. A few more power-packed punches and he'd have bent a gap large enough to fit his hand through and hit the door release from the outside. He couldn't 'hack' a door like Robin could, with a computer up-link, but he could hack a door just fine with some good ol' fashioned bruit strength.
…
(A/N: Short chapter is short.
Sorry, I'm kinda going through a bout of discouragement as for as this fic is concerned at the moment. Superboy's not the mole. Clark and Conner have finally made peace. And season one has ended. I find myself asking, "What's the point?" of continuing this. On the flip-side, you guys have been giving me some wonderful feedback and positive encouragement and I don't want to disappoint you. I'm probably change the description to say this is now an AU and finish it for you guys. I just need to kick myself in the ass a couple of times to get myself moving.)