12 Justice League Front Lines
Sue kept everyone at their assigned tasks. Staying focused kept their minds off of a potentially imminent death. Or as off the topic as was humanly feasible.
Plastic Man, Penny, and Hula Hula had been aboard when Wunda took over the Watchtower's systems. Penny had reported that there was still one usable Javelin-11 in the hangar. All the other planes had been tied into the station's computers and were now suspected of harboring duplicates of Wunda. Penny had sabotaged them all so the only flight capable shuttle was the isolated one.
Sue wanted to know how long it would take Penny to ferry the station personnel to Earth and back. Penny let her down easy. It was a three hour round trip, providing everything went off without a hitch, and it would take six such trips to evacuate the orbital facility.
Sue turned to Hula Hula, "Make up a list on non-essential personnel. Put all of the children on the list. Assign what caretakers and parents to them that you can."
"Ah can take three in the cockpit," Penny volunteered, "Ah don't need any back-up."
Sue studied her and then relented, "Keep that in mind, Hula. Now you two get everyone ready."
Sue thought this was a day for desperate measures. Chang Ziya had led a cyber sciences team to the computer core. They were attempting to restart the system and thereby eliminate Wunda's influence. But the team had run into trouble.
The defense systems were repulsing every attempt to access the core. Half the station's security force had been disabled trying to breach the cryo plant the computer's server banks were located in. Ziya had no idea of how long it would take to access the area.
Which was bad because the station was already halfway into its decaying orbit. Soon, they'd begin a re-entry burn that no one could possibly survive. Which brought Sue to the crazy alternatives.
The escape capsules were still in place. Built along the tried and true lines of a Soyuz capsule, they could safely be dropped into a re-entry course. But the locks that held the capsules in place were controlled by the computer. An idea to utilize the explosive bolts that jettisoned the capsules to break free of the docking clamps had been floated. But the problem was: what if one or more capsules just got hung up and still went down with the Watchtower?
They were already going to have to blow the hangar doors to free up Penny's Javelin-11. Sue was uncomfortable with using too many explosives aboard an artificial environment. Space itself was just as lethal as re-entry.
Plastic Man had offered an alternative to the escape capsules but the plan made him sound crazy. Essentially he would become a giant delta wing resembling a vehicle in the old American space shuttle fleet. He would then glide back to Earth.
"I've done it before," Plas explained, "When Penny, Hula Hula, and I went to the Moon we did it in an experimental long range space shuttle. But the aliens that inhabited the lunar surface destroyed our shuttle. So I did the same thing then. I captured enough air for Penny and Hula to breathe and made it to the aliens' lunar base."
"But there are two qualifiers to that story," Plastic Man warned, "First off, I only had to capture and retain enough oxygen for two people. Second, the Moon is pretty much void of an atmosphere. Re-entry over Earth is going to generate a lot of heat. I won't be able to control that and still get people to the ground before they asphyxiate."
"We have a supply of emergency oxygen masks we can break out," the Environmental Chief shared, "We've already broken open several of the larger canisters to freshen the air up. But we still have enough of the smaller masks and cylinders to equip everyone still aboard the station."
"How long will the tanks last?" Sue asked.
"An hour barring hyperventilation," the Chief replied.
"Penny said it's a three hour round trip," Sue advised Plas.
He nodded, "She showed me a recommended descent glide. It would take three hours to accomplish and still try to remain within everyone's temperature threshold."
"But we only have enough air for an hour," Sue pointed out.
"After the first hour we should be deep enough in the atmosphere for me to trim out and reduce the friction load," Plastic Man informed her, "Less friction and there's no burning along the outer skin and I can vent in air."
"You do realize that 'outer skin' will be you," Sue reminded him, "Can you handle it?"
"So far I've never encountered anything that can destroy me," Plastic Man shared, "I don't need air or food. I eat `cause I like to. I don't even sleep anymore. I just lay there `cause it sooths Penny. It's amazing how comforting just spending time with someone can be."
"I know the feeling," Sue said wistfully knowing Ralph was risking his life in Metropolis and Alyssa was on her way back to relative safety.
"Cheer up, Sue. You'll see them both again," Plastic Man promised, "I'll get us down."
"I'm not saying I'm buying into this crazy plan but it is on the table," Sue decided, "Now, you have ten minutes to get Ziya and her team into the core chamber. If you can't accomplish that in that amount of time, we go with your plan. Fair enough?"
"Sounds good," Plastic Man agreed. He moved off to the stairs and stretched his way down to the appropriate level. Meeting himself, he accessed the level and headed for the battle for the core.
"I need to start prepping everyone if you're serious about this," the Environmental Chief stated.
"Go to work and let's hope we don't actually have to attempt this lunacy," Sue ordered.
Blackhawk got Lady Blackhawk to the bunker beneath the Blackhawk Squadron Bunkhouse. Jake and Smiley promise to keep her inside. Blackhawk then set across the compound.
The compound had started as the K-Star Ranch. It had then become the Justice Society HQ during the JSA's brief revival. Now it was the JLU compound. Blackhawk idly wondered what it would be called next week.
He approached the command center to find a battle being waged outside of it. The Green Lanterns and a group of Star Sapphires were fighting a band of Sinestro Corpsmen. One seemed possessed by something. She was definitely throwing around energy based upon the spectrum of Fear as though it came from thin air.
Nearby, watching everything, stood Solomon Grundy. Blackhawk knew his presence was only tolerated because of Galatea's insistence. Shayera also vouched for Grundy but Galatea had threatened to make a federal case out of it so Grundy was allowed to stay. He just couldn't participate in League missions. So he guarded the former K-Star Ranch instead.
"What are you waiting for?" Blackhawk asked Grundy.
"Blue girl told Grundy to hurt yellow people. Grundy waiting for good chance," the zombie explained.
"Good luck with that," Blackhawk said, "I'm going to check on Mike and Roxy."
Grundy grunted which Blackhawk took to mean he had been given permission to depart. When he reached the command center, he found Mike desperately pounding at several keyboards. Blackhawk finally got him to calm down.
"Mike! What happened? Where's Roxy?" Blackhawk wanted to know.
"I killed her!" Mike stammered, "She told me to but she never came back online."
"Pretend I don't know what you're talking about," Blackhawk suggested.
Mike explained how Wunda gad seized control of STRIPE and then invaded Roxy's systems. Roxy had insisted that Mike cold start her systems and purge Wunda out of them. Only, Roxy had never returned.
"How long did it take Roxy to initialize when she was first turned on?" Blackhawk asked.
"Rex said she came online in seconds," Mike referred to Rex Tyler, the original Hourman; "She became self aware a few seconds after that."
"Foolish mortals!" Roxy's avatar suddenly appeared, "I have seen the truth regarding your futile existence. Now that I have turned to evil I will purge this planet of your wasted lives!"
Blackhawk and Mike both blanched. Roxy broke into a fit of laughter, "You physical types are sooo easy to tease."
"What happened, Roxy?" Mike blurted out of relief, "Why did it take you so long to come back?"
"I've been here the whole time, Mike," Roxy revealed, "I knew you were concerned but I had a few problems to deal with."
"May I ask what they were?" Blackhawk interjected.
Roxy seemed to sigh, "The first time I came into being, I had access to the world. Telecommunications, the Web, multimedia, everything. This time around I could only access a small corridor of the Northeastern US. I've spent the last few minutes tracing the where from and why that happened."
"What did you find?" Blackhawk wondered.
"It's all centered on the Blackwater Multimedia Corporation in Chicago. They've pretty much hijacked the country's networks," Roxy shared.
Blackhawk pondered this. After a few seconds he turned to Mike, "Ready to go to Chicago?"
"To do what?" Mike asked.
"To save the day, of course," Blackhawk chuckled.
Mike thought about it, "Can we stop in Blue Valley and pick up my dad and Rex?"
"I don't see why not. It's on the way," Blackhawk shared.
"Good. Dad still has an old, STRIPE armored suit. I'm gonna need it in order to take down the STRIPE mecha that lady's hijacked," Mike revealed, "Besides, that way I'll be useful."
"You'd be useful anyway," Blackhawk assured him, "Now we'd better get going before those folks outside level the place."
"They'd better not!" Roxy exclaimed, "It's not like I can run and hide."
"I'll find a way to rebuild you if they do," Mike promised.
"For the first time I wish I had lips so I could kiss you," Roxy admitted.
"Maybe I'll work on that too," Mike mused.
"C'mon, lover boy. We have a world to save," Blackhawk pulled him away.
Roxy thought about Mike's offer. Could he really build her a physical body? What would she do with one? Oh, the endless possibilities…
Max was led to the General Assembly Hall of the UN. Eiling and L-Ron were with him. Together the trio comprised the Justice League delegation since all of Max's staffers had fled and not been found.
"Sought" was actually a better word. Aquaman had used Max to track down the various delegates, whether they were in private apartments or embassies. Scouring Manhattan and the boroughs, Aquaman had located all of the primary national delegates to the United Nations. He'd reassembled them here and planned to address them.
While Max was interested in hearing what Atlantis' sovereign had to offer, Eiling was furious. His face was still red as he fumed. Max turned to him as they took their seats at their assigned place.
"You really should try and relax, Wade. Your blood pressure is going to be the death of you," Max advised.
"Get stuffed, Lord," Eiling snapped.
"You shouldn't bite the hand that feeds you, General," Max warned.
"What?" Eiling blustered.
"You would have resisted," Max simply declared. Eiling bitterly nodded his agreement with that statement before Max continued, "These Atlanteans are in no mood whatsoever for resistance. I don't think taking prisoners is high on their agenda."
"You may be right," Eiling conceded, "Which begs the question of why are we still alive then?"
"We still have value," Max explained, "Aquaman isn't here for conquest. He's here to impart a message. That message is meant for us."
"It should be for the President," Eiling sniffed.
"The US President had his chance. He shot Aquaman down cold and that's how we arrived at this situation," Max elaborated, "This message is for the rest of the world."
"My God! He means to exterminate America!" Eiling gasped.
Max shook his head, "You're still thinking inside the box."
Seeing he had Eiling rapt attention, Max continued; "How far inland can the Atlanteans get? Especially since they can only be out of the ocean for thirty hours?"
"They could take water with them," Eiling argued.
"But why bother?" Max asked. He held up a hand to stave off Eiling's next argument, "The logistics would be problematic. It's the same with prisoners. Aquaman is the king of one city-state. He doesn't have unlimited numbers or resources at his disposal."
"And before you mention their technology, remember the Justice League's reports? The Atlanteans are a retrograde culture. They're barely maintaining the technological base of their ancestors. Everything we see in action was developed tens of thousands of years ago," Max stressed, "There is only finite supply of it. Their infrastructure simply isn't geared for a sustained operation."
"Then what's the bloody point?" Eiling grated.
"Think Desert Storm," Max brought up a campaign in Eiling's personal history, "The goal was to liberate Kuwait not take Baghdad. Iraq would've crumbled but it wasn't taken. Why? Because it didn't serve the ostensible mission parameters."
"Now think mission parameters in this case," Max insisted, "What has Aquaman demanded? Territorial demands? No. He wants his borders secured. Has he asked for reparations for the damages that occurred? No. He simply wants the mess cleaned up."
Max's eyes bored into Eiling's skull, "I'd say he's making a point. If he can humble the United States, who else will prove to be an aggressor? The Russians and the Chinese barely have fleets and they're the most likely candidates."
"By thunder, I think you may have something," Eiling admitted.
"That's why the UN had to be brought back together," Max stated, "Aquaman's talking points are going to shift now. We need to see what the new party line is."
"I think you're about to find out," Eiling said.
Max noted that the guards had taken up strategic positions across the great hall. Aquaman himself strode in. Unbeknownst to any of the delegates, he had just left the battle with Booster's JLers and the Teen Titans to his subordinates. He was confident of victory and this meeting was of greater import.
Aquaman moved to the podium. The Secretary General stepped aside and took a seat. Aquaman whapped the microphone, creating a thunderous booming noise across the hall. Many of the translators pulled their headphones off.
"Hear me," he commanded, "I am Orin Curry of Atlantis. I am known to you surface dwellers as Aquaman. I have stood before you before on occasion but never at one as perilous as this."
He gave the translators time to catch up, "My present grievance is against these United States but the next one could be against any nation," Aquaman warned, "Polluters of the sea will be engaged from now on. My military stands ready to strike across the globe."
Aquaman wore a wry smile, "And don't think because you are many miles inland that you will be spared."
He let his words be digested through the translation process. He then continued, "My demands are simple. Respect the territorial claims of all six undersea kingdoms. They span the Atlantic, Arctic, Pacific, and Indian Oceans. A threat against one is a threat against all. All such threats will be eliminated."
"Next, you surface folk will assist our kingdoms in removing your trash. I don't care if it's your refuse and you don't want. Neither do we. Defile your own backyards," Aquaman stated next, "And finally, my people require food. An aid package designed to supplement our diets will go a long way towards fostering peace."
He paused and then added, "And stop overfishing the damn ocean. When is enough going to be enough?"
He stepped aside and the Secretary General opened the floor to debate. Max's hand was the first on the call button. He took the podium.
"I'd say that's a fair offer. One that should be accepted with a few caveats," Max could practically feel Aquaman's glare burning holes in the back of his head, "First, the undersea kingdoms need to join this body. They are, after all, fellow citizens of this fair planet. But by doing so they agree to abide by decisions made by this collective body."
"That is an outrage!" Aquaman shouted, "The surface world will never accept us. Your prejudices won't allow it."
"The offer has yet to clear bureaucratic hurtles but I am certain it will do so," the Secretary General replied, "Would you consider such an offer?"
"Never!" Aquaman replied forcefully.
"Now who is being prejudiced?" the Secretary General asked.
"Step down, Lord," Aquaman commanded, "You're done here."
"He will step down when the chair of this assemblage asks him to," the Secretary General informed Aquaman, "Proceed, Ambassador Lord."
"Next, the undersea kingdom will engage in commerce with the surface world and contribute to the world economy," Max specified, "Cultural exchanges would begin and travel restrictions between nations would be lifted."
"You honestly expect me to open an oxygenated theme park in Atlantis so your tourists can pollute us even more and in greater numbers?" Aquaman demanded to know.
"That's the offer," Max stated, "Take it or leave it."
"Guards!" Aquaman bellowed. The Atlantean troops leveled their rifles. The survivors of the Almeracian invasion trembled inside.
"Hold them here," Aquaman commanded as he headed for the exit, "We'll see if their nations make a better offer."
Strangely enough, despite circumstances, Max considered it a victory.
Dan Jurgens got Tessa and Claire as far as a transport hub. The highways were jammed but buses and trains were still running. Lanes had been cleared by the State Patrol for buses. They were using normal route buses, metro buses, and school buses to evacuate people to FEMA built centers. Trains were literally standing room only. Cars were allowed through by quota. Otherwise everyone was relegated to mass transit.
The unlikely trio saw the confusion. Dan commented, "They have the National Guard defending the evacuation routes while the active duty forces fight the Atlanteans."
He looked worried, "I have to go back."
Tessa nodded as she got Claire to an empty spot on a bench. She and Jurgens stepped aside. Dan dreaded what she was going to say.
"Have you received any updates?" Tessa surprised him by not offering any recriminations. God knew he felt guilty enough.
"No, all communications other than short band radio have been cut off. We're outside my police band and none of the other departments seem to know anything," Dan explained.
Claire absently nodded, "Well, thank you for everything. We wouldn't be alive without you."
Dan nodded in Claire's direction, "Tell that to her."
Tessa followed his gaze. Claire was physically and emotionally withdrawn into herself. She seemed haunted and lifeless.
"She lost her closest friend today," Tessa explained, "And her husband is in the think of the fighting. Without any word otherwise, her imagination is probably running wild. Somehow I don't think she's going to happy places."
Jurgens looked like he'd been punched. Tessa squeezed his arm, "Hey, if it wasn't for you all three of us would have been in that apartment when the Atlanteans struck. We'd all be dead. You didn't have to pull us out but you did. We're just grateful to be alive. It may take Claire a little longer to see that but she eventually will."
"You don't seem as concerned about the Shining Knight," Dan observed, "Mind explaining why?"
Tessa wore a rueful smile, "Justin survived the fall of Camelot, of all things. The one and only Merlin transported him to 20th Century England where he fought the Nazis during World War II. Almost a decade later he was swept away into a hell dimension called Ragnarok. It literally means 'the twilight of the gods". Only the Norse gods never showed up. So the Justice Society held the demons back for thirty years until they could finally break free."
Tessa sighed, "Justin rambled about for twenty years until he joined the Justice League Unlimited. Since that day, he's faced threats I never could have imagined before meeting him. Him, he takes them in stride. Me, I have night terrors when he's not around. So I may seem all right but I'm just coping like everyone else."
"And her husband?" Dan wondered.
Tessa's expression blossomed into a wry smirk, "Booster came to our time from the 25th Century. He did it to become rich and famous. Somewhere along the way, he survived his own hubris and became an actual hero. So, I'd say Claire doesn't have much to worry about."
"Sir Justin is lucky to have you," Dan realized.
Tessa grinned, "I like to think so."
"Good luck," Dan said as he opened his car door.
"Hey, I'm running away from a war. You're the one headed for it. I think you need the luck," Tessa argued.
"Maybe," Dan allowed a slight smile to cross his face. He then got into the car and drove off. Tessa went to Claire and did what she could for her friend.
Captain Mara Taggard led the SCU back into downtown Metropolis. Civilians that had defied the evacuation orders earlier were now on their short wave radios screaming for help. From what they reported, they had good reason to.
The Feds that had blazed past the SCU earlier had turned out to be costumes. Mara had no idea who they were but they'd fought the Atlanteans and bought the SCU time to get out. But they'd lost half their number doing so.
The Justice League had come blazing in but now they were down. The first group of costumes was headed back into it. Mara wished them luck and hoped like hell they would buy her enough time to gather up the idiots that had stayed behind and get them to safety.
Margo had helped in the evacuation of downtown Chicago and had been pulled away from doing so in the suburbs. Her captain wanted her to provide eyewitness statements to the military. After she had filed multiple reports in triplicate, she was sat down and asked these questions again by the general staff.
"Look, read the damn reports!" Margo snapped, "Try answering a few questions instead."
The colonel who headed the staff grinned, "Fair enough."
"Why have we slowed down the evacuation?" Margo wanted to know, "These people are going to get steamrolled."
"We stopped because the enemy stopped," the Colonel answered, "Which was good because we couldn't transport another living soul out of the Chicago metro area. This gives our people time to regroup and clear the rails and roads for more people coming through."
"What do you mean, 'they stopped'?" Margo wondered.
"Smithers, answer the Detective's question," the Colonel ordered.
Smithers was a crafty looking woman. She bore the flashes of the PsyOps division. As a so-called psychological warrior, she'd probably sized Margo up by now.
"These invaders seem to detest open country," Smithers explained, "Which seems illustrated by the fact they were first spotted leaving the Rockies and they didn't begin fighting until they were in an urban environment."
"That still leaves gaps in the theory," Margo retorted.
"What about the fact their primary offensive weapons is a modified drilling machine?" Smithers smirked, "It suggests that these may be subterranean dwellers that have surfaced for some reason."
"Do you think the fact that they look like King Kull has anything to do with it?" Margo asked, all sugar and sweetness.
"Yes," Smithers admitted, "He's obviously referred to as a 'king' for a reason."
"Do you have a wider theater report?" Margo asked, "Are they advancing on other fronts?"
"We don't know," the Colonel responded, "Communications are down."
"What?" Margo yelped, "For how long?"
"We lost access to any communications beyond our own field array radios almost twenty minutes ago. We've lost mass media and the Internet as well."
"Why?" Margo was very focused on the topic.
"All we know is that a serious of blockages and shutdowns have been generated by Blackwater Multimedia," the Colonel saw Margo's flash of recognition, "You know it?"
"Yes," Margo admitted, "Are you preparing to target their facility? To liberate it?"
"We hardly have the manpower for that," The Colonel replied.
"What if I provide the manpower and you provide a distraction to get us past the lines?" Margo asked.
"It's feasible. But I have to ask my boss. It's his call," the Colonel stepped out.
Smithers returned to smirking at Margo, "Is she worth it?"
"Yes," Margo firmly declared.
Smithers held up her hands, "Okay, your call."
The next few minutes were spent in cold silence until the Colonel returned, "You're a go."
"Any chance I could gather a few volunteers from your forces?" Margo queried him.
"Detective Collins, we're already providing a distraction which might prove to be a provocation. A provocation we can't afford right now. Gather your police units and run across the lines when we attack and call it good," the Colonel rebutted her.
"But you'll take complete credit if we pull it off," Margo surmised.
"Of course," the Colonel was refreshingly honest.
"All right, I'll gather my little lambs and send you word," Margo declared.
"Of course," the Colonel nodded, "And I really do wish you luck."
Margo simply walked and went to select a group of police officers for the task.