Kar'Sharn

Two weeks after the Palaven Miracle

Talalak, Hegemon of the batarians, woke with a yawn. Rising to a sitting position on his bed, he rang the bell on the nearby stand and waited, eyes still closed, for his breakfast.

When a few minutes passed, he opened them to see that there was nobody else in the chamber with him. Telisa should've already arrived with his meal; where could've the damned asari gone?

His stomach began to rumble. Muttering a curse, he threw on a robe and stomped over to the door. Throwing it open, he peered into the small kitchen he set aside for himself.

"Slave!" he barked. "Come here this instant!"

There was no reply.

Talalak gritted his teeth. If he found her, he'd haver her tongue grown back, just so he could cut it out again!

Marching through the kitchen, a piece of paper caught his eye. Grabbing it, he saw that it was a message, neatly handwritten. It wasn't Telisa's, however; in fact, it didn't resemble any kind of style he'd seen before.

Looks like you'll have to make your own breakfast. Signed-

Talalak narrowed his four eyes. Instead of a name, there was just some strange symbol. What kind of name was a squiggly line incased in a diamond?

That was the less pressing matter, however. Crumpling the paper in his hand, he went back into his bedroom, punched the comms, and barked: "Meeting. Now."

S

"What do you mean, 'all of them'?!" he screamed.

The delegate shrank back in her seat. "A-all of them, my Lord. It appears that all five hundred million slaves have escaped. The other worlds are reporting it as well, and in the Terminus systems."

"Escaped?! How could five hundred million escape overnight, without leaving anyone behind, and with no trace?! There aren't any starships reported missing, are there?"

"N-no, my Lord Hegemon," the delegate squeaked.

Talalak began to pace about the meeting room. Already his frustration was growing beyond tolerable levels. Why, he had to pull out his own chair to sit! And he knew the others must have been feeling the same; billions of his people were waking up to find a crucial part of household life gone. An entire pillar of the economy, vanished overnight!

He suddenly stopped.

"Have there been reports of... notes being left behind?" he asked, voice low.

"In fact, there have, my Lord Hegemon," another delegate replied. "All of them appear to be variations of 'no more slaves' or 'this is your work, now'. And they've all be signed with-"

"-A strange symbol," Talalak interrupted. "A symbol much like a squiggly line incased in a diamond?"

"How did you know, my Lord Hegemon?"

Talalak glared at the delegate. "Because I received a similar note."

Another delegate burst into the room, panting. "My lord Hegemon, we believe we have located the cause."

"Oh? Well, then, tell me."

The delegate offered a data pad. "Over the last month, there have been reports all over the galaxy of some mysterious being called 'Superman', who has been helping others. Stopping fires, rescuing stranded ships, and other tasks."

Talalak took the pad. It showed an image of some strange alien, with only two eyes, garbed in a red and blue bodysuit. A red cape was draped over its shoulders, but his attention was drawn to the symbol on its chest.

It was the same as the one on the note.

"Find him!" Talalak growled. "Send half the fleet after this 'Superman'! I want his head served to me on a platter, then broadcasted all over for everyone to see! No, scratch that; I want him as my personal slave after this... this... mockery!"

"But, my lord Hegemon," the delegate protested, "even the Citadel races have failed to apprehend him. And there are reports that he's just been doing this with his own-"

"Are you questioning me?" the Hegemon hissed.

The delegate hung his head. "N-no, my lord Hegemon."

"Good. Send as many soldiers as you can. Contact the slavers and gangs in the Terminus systems, too; no doubt they are frothing for blood after this. And I want them to raid any world that they come across in the hunt, too! We'll get our possessions back, and show the galaxy we mean business!"

With that, he stomped away, feeling triumphant.

S

The next morning, he woke up feeling groggy. Getting to sleep was hard without his bedwarmers, and once again there was no-one to serve him breakfast. He contented himself with a fruit and water for the time being.

Hopefully, that will change soon enough, he thought to himself.

He imagined that insipid smile on the alien's face, and felt his blood boil. Closing his eyes, he soothed himself with the thought of the Superman being his slave, forced to clean the dirt from his shoes.

Going over his requests and bills, he saw that the delegates wished to hold another meeting. Since there was nothing else to do until the fleet came back, he decided to go.

When he entered and sat himself down, he saw that the faces of the delegates were ashen, their heads low. One of them worked on a report with trembling hands.

"Well?" Talalak demanded. "What matter must we contend with today?"

The nearest one cleared her throat. "The... fleet has returned, my lord Hegemon."

"Oh? Have they succeeded already?" The Hegemon smiled at the thought.

"N-no, my lord Hegemon."

Talalak's face hardened into a sneer. "Then why are they back?"

Another one answered. "T-they were towed back, my lord Hegemon."

"Towed back?" Talalak snarled. "By whom?"

"Superman, my lord Hegemon."

For a few moments, he simply stared in silence, unblinking. His fists clenched and unclenched, as if he was wringing someone's neck, then he sucked in a deep breath.

"Explain." His voice was as cold as the void when he spoke.

"There's footage on a thousand cameras, my lord Hegemon," the delegate replied. "He zipped about, ripping away the weapons of ship and soldier alike, until the fleet was completely disarmed. He even took the kitchen knives. He then somehow... roped our ships together, like he was herding cattle, and dragged them back to their ports. It was less than ten minutes. Then, he replaced them with small canisters of this."

The delegate produced a small tube from his pocket. The alien symbol was on them, just as on the note. Cautiously, Talalak grabbed it, and fiddled around with the top.

"What's inside?"

"A non-toxic liquid that partially solidifies upon contact with the air. It doesn't even function as a binder, my lord Hegemon."

Testing it, Talalak sprayed some onto his palm. It came out in thin strings, and was a faint blue in color. It stuck to his hand a little, then fell to the desk below.

"He gave us these... silly little strings?!"

"That is not all, my lord Hegemon. He gave us a letter, directly addressed to you."

Talalak snatched the paper from the delegate's hand, and read.

Dear Tally,

Don't worry about the slaves. They're safe and sound and where they belong: in their homes, with their families, and away from the likes of you. Don't try to send out raids for them, unless you want some more super silly string. You can have as much of that as you want, but you'll never own another sentient being again.

Your friend, Superman.

P.S: I imagine the people are going to be rather upset with you over this. Have fun.

Talalak crumpled the paper in his hand, then reared back to scream.

"Curses, Superman!"