The Gold Corps: Gold Justice, Chapter: 8: Talks

"Awright, ya poozers! Lissen up. I'm supposed to pick the best o'ya to go fight yer worst nightmare. And, yes, before some jackass asks, deadly force has been authorized. So no holdin' back. Now. We're gonna begin the absolute worst training you've ever experienced. Standard newbie training is gonna seem like a walk inna park compared to this. Only difference is, ya'll survive this training, these exercises. Barely, but ya will." Kilowog paused, looking at the Lanterns assembled before him. No matter what, he thought, with a sinking sensation in his chest, one that he tried to cover with his bluster, some of these guys won't be coming back to Oa. Maybe me included. He squared his shoulders. His only consolation was, he wouldn't be leading the survivors, if there even were any, back. He wouldn't have to write any letters, explain to any families why their loved one wasn't coming home today.

Because first he'd fall, himself.

This was what it meant to be a Green Lantern: to go into battles that seemed, and may actually be, hopeless, so that others could go to bed at night, safe and secure. "You! Yeah, you! Zivixx, ain't it? Let's see what'cha got. Come at me!"

…

Ragnar's ship: the processing and translation of the data files was proceeding more or less smoothly. It was still all in an alien language, and sometimes that made for some difficulty in translating, but, for the most part, the overall data transfer was working.

Megan took the brief lull in the operation to check in with Nightwing, via a subspacial link established from John Stewart's ring. "Nightwing? It's me. Anything happening on your end?"

"No. We did bust another cell of that kidnapping ring. We really could've used your telepathy, but they'll keep for now, at least until you get back. What's happening on your end? Getting any answers?"

"Unfortunately, yes." She was in a small room apart from the rest of the ship. Intellectually, she knew that pretty much everything that transpired, all she said and did, was being recorded, in some form, by someone. If not the ship's still-functioning computer, then most probably by Stewart's ring itself. "We…made an unfortunate discovery regarding Ragnar's parents. Or, at least, I suppose I should say, it appears we've done so." And she filled him in on the translation they made of the mothership's log.

"So his parents were slavers? Man. That's, uh, harsh."

"Well, as I told him, there really isn't any proof, one way or another. There could be lots of explanations for that. But he's not taking it well, as you can imagine."

"Well, yeah."

"The good news is, at the rate we're currently going, we should be done within a day. All the data is being transferred by secure subspacial link directly to Oa. Maybe they can restore the missing files, or at least link it with other data, make more sense about it."

"I know you've reassured Ragnar about…how we feel. About him, I mean."

"Yeah. I told him it doesn't matter what his parents, or his ancestors were like. But he's still beating himself up over it, some. I guess…I can relate to that."

"Megan…I can tell you're getting into this…in a more personal way than you might normally do. How are you holding up?"

Megan blushed, suddenly glad this was a voice-only link. He couldn't see her. "I'm alright, Dick." A sigh. "And yeah, I guess I am…getting more into this than is completely professional. But… I mean…"

"Megan, you don't have to apologize for anything. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. This isn't telling on you, is it?"

She thought. It was a good question. She'd already realized that she was coming to care about the Gold Lantern as a person, not "just" a "mere" friend, but….as something….more. Then, tiredly, "I'm okay, Dick. I, I don't really know exactly what I'm going to do about…you know. I mean, I told myself, I wasn't gonna get involved with anyone for a long time, but…." She floundered, at a loss for words.

"Megan, that's okay. I just was a little worried…you know, that this might be, like, rebound syndrome or something."

Sigh. "For all I know, it could be. I sure don't want it to be; Ragnar's too nice a guy, too much the innocent, to, to do something like that to. But…I guess at some point, we'll have to have a…talk. You know."

"Uh, yeah, I do know. I've had to have several of those talks, myself. They're seldom fun."

I know, thought Miss Martian. She still remembered her breakup with Conner. It was all my fault in the first place. But what nobody fully understood was that her telepathy wasn't just a "super power" that she was learning to handle, it was like sight to a human. For her not to use it was akin to someone deliberately blindfolding themselves, and learning how to navigate and get around without using their eyes. It simply came naturally for her to use it, and she was always constantly reminded that not everybody could peek underneath the surface the way she did. Or…do things. Like she did. Like she had done.

She'd made some terrible mistakes, it was true. When she'd thought Aqualad was a traitor, she'd hurt him, badly, only to realize, too late, that it was all an undercover plan. And she'd tried to use her telepathy to make Superboy forget an argument…the list, in her mind, went on.

All mistakes. All things she could have done differently. Times when she acted hastily, without full knowledge. Times when she'd unintentionally hurt someone. And…times when she had. "I…I guess I'd better go," she began. Being a shapeshifter didn't mean she could always control her tears, oddly enough.

"Megan? Are you-*"

"I'm alright, Nightwing. I'll, I'll be in touch." And she hastily closed the connection….

She opened the door to go rejoin the others—and there sat Ragnar, sitting up against the wall, watching her intently. "Oh! Uhm, Ragnar…I didn't know you were uhm out here…"

"Is something wrong, Megan?"

"No, it's…" She saw his look. "Okay. Well, actually, no, nothing's really wrong as such. It's just…I'm having to sort some things out."

"Things involving me?"

Okay. This could get… "Well, sort of. But, right now, it's more involving…someone else."

"Superboy?"

She stared. "How did you know…?"

"Wally told me. He told me you two used to be what he called 'an item.' It took me a while to understand what he meant. I'm still not totally sure."

"Oh, he is so dead when I get back. But…yeah. Some things that…happened." She came and sat by him, there in the hallway, their backs up against the wall. "I guess I'm trying to, to not hurt you the same way."

His hand covered hers. "Will you tell me about it?"

"It…it isn't really anything…I mean, I, I can't go into detail, not right now. It's just…" She sighed and leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes. "It's just…sometimes…people don't realize how hard it is to, to fit in. Especially when you don't fit in. Sometimes, I feel like I'm a square peg in a world full of round holes."

"Some day I'll understand that statement better. But, in my own way, I believe I know what you are saying." He didn't remove his hand from hers. "Are we an…item?"

Where's Darkseid when you need him most? "Er, well, Ragnar, that's, uhm, well, er, I mean to say…" She wondered if, once she succeeded in twisting off this lock of her hair she had in a death-grip, if she could use her shape-changing powers to put it back on. Would it still be a part of her? "What I'm trying to say is…"

"Megan." He interrupted her gently, still holding her hand. "You, Sarah, the Guardians, and all the others have been telling me to look to the future, not the past. I don't know much about such relationships as you're—we're talking about. But one thing I have come to know: the future only happens when it happens."

"Ragnar, I-*"

"Ssh." He put his finger on her lips. "Let's just see…how that future unfolds, okay? But I want you to know how I feel. I…care for you, Megan. More than I do for any other person, including myself. I don't know, really, what that means, and I don't know how you feel about me, but I want you to know how I feel. Can you accept that? Is that…okay?"

For a long, long moment, she was silent. How did she feel about him? "Ragnar, I-* But abruptly, her communicator chimed. Who? She was light-years away from the Team.

It was Hal Jordan. "Megan? You and Ragnar might wanna come see this."

To be continued…