*If the tachyons are contained within a thermo-stasis field, perhaps we could bypass the cellular deterioration problem entirely. In fact-*
"By the Council!"
Zor-El looks up from his workstation, his brother's sudden exclamation breaking through his concentration. He looks back to the hovering image, the delicately intertwining threads collapsing without his close attention. He glares at his brother, furious.
"Do you know what you've just done? I had nearly solved the premature defusion issue!"
Jor-El shushes him excitedly. "Never mind that, you have to see this."
Zor-El glances over the disorganized display of his siblings' work. His breath catches in his throat as he stares at the information before him. He turns to the older man.
"Is this accurate? You've run all the necessary tests?"
"Yes, I double and triple-checked. It's not likely, almost impossible, even, but..."
The two watch as the red sun in the simulation expands rapidly, consuming not only the facsimile of Krypton, but also the rest of the small planetary system. The entirety of the Kryptonian race, save for Zod and his dwindling band of exiles, lost in mere minutes. The silence hangs heavily in the shared laboratory of the House of El.
Zor-El speaks first. "We must inform the Council, they will want to know of this possibility."
His elder nods in agreement. Without further conversation, the two set off for the Deliberation Chambers.
Later
The pair sits in Jor-El's chambers, discussing the Council's decision. The younger man is incensed, letting his emotions color his voice as he rages to no one in particular.
"How can they simply ignore this? The odds are infinitesimal, yes, but we cannot simply overlook the dangers."
"Calm yourself, Zor-El, I have a plan, should the worst come to pass."
"How do you plan for the end of civilization?"
Jor-El tries to hide a smirk, but his brother can easily see through his stoic facade. "I found something, in the old deep probe maps."
"Star-searching again? Why waste your time? We could never move the equipment to terraform anything outside of our system, and all the Krypton-type planets have life far too advanced to allow us to settle, the Galactic Senate would never allow it."
"This one is different, look."
Powering his personal workstation up, Jor-El accesses a file from the jumbled mass of icons. A blue and green orb appears before them. Zor-El peers at the spinning globe, noting the white masses at the poles, this was a temperate world. He glances at his brother, who can no longer contain his pride. His face beaming, he speaks.
"It's a Krypton-type planet, with a civilization still in the early stages of development. They only recently discovered internal combustion."
"How does that change anything? We still can't colonize an inhabited planet. The Prime Direc-"
"Yes, yes, I know." His brother continues on, not acknowledging the glare sent his way at the interruption.
"The inhabitants appear, on a cursory examination, to look exactly like Kryptonians."
The image changes, now showing a bipedal creature, it's pink skin covered in patches of hair. Zor-El leans closer to the hologram, incredulous.
"And the air is non-toxic?"
"Better, the atmosphere is Oxygen-rich. And I've saved the best for last."
The image reverts to the sphere, pulling back to reveal the remainder of the star system.
Zor-El gasps, "A yellow sun."
Jor-El smiles, clapping his hands together excitedly.
"And with the old pods from the early days of Kryptonain expansion, we could utilize the cryostasis to ignore the passage of time."
"We'd have to, as we'd die of old age without FTL travel. This planet is on the far side of the galaxy, not even the scraphunters of the outer fringes go that far from the hub."
"That's what makes it the perfect escape, should we have need of one. The senate will never bother looking into such a backwater system for immigrants."
Zor-El grunts, lost in thought. "And the cryopods are still available for research purposes, they have no use as transport. I'll write up a requisition form. It will gather less scrutiny if it comes from me."
Jor-El inclines his head to his younger brother, "You always did have a way with words."
Their contingency plan in place, the two return to their daily routines. Time passes, and the brothers move on with their lives, and their research. They each find partners in life, and things are good for the two. As Project Yellow Sun nears it's conclusion, the siblings from the House of El receive more good news, they are both to be fathers.
They welcome their children, Kal-El and Kara Zor-El, into the world within mere cycles of each other, and only a short time before the culmination of their lives' work. The two have barely begun to bond with their offspring when the Council demands that they return to their research. Their partners are understanding of their need to see to the final preparations for the momentous occasion.
The initial launch goes smoothly, the gathered scientists cheering as the rockets separate outside the atmosphere of Krypton. Hours later, the defusion device slips inside the red sun at the center of the system. The star churns, and the displays begin showing a flood of technical data.
Jor-El meets his brother's gaze from across the busy room. Fear is evident in the younger man's face as he stares back. The readouts are exactly what they had feared.
Klaxons sound as Jor-El sprints though the city, the civilians running in a panic as the very universe seems to fall apart above them. The red sun of Krypton boils angrily in the sky, appearing larger than ever before by an order of magnitude. Jor-El knows that he has only minutes, the expanding star would soon destroy Krypton before continuing on to annihilate the rest of their species.
His wife is waiting for him in the greeting chambers, holding their crying child. He quickly gathers the sniveling Kal-El into his arms. Making his way to the House of El's private launch bay, Jor-El looks into the face of the youngster for the last time. The boy's blue eyes stare into his, and he feels a swell of deep sadness. He will never see his son take his first step, or hear his first words. Every milestone his child experiences will be beneath an alien sky, surrounded by strangers.
His wife weeps while they place the small bundle into the pod, stepping back as the glasstic cockpit closes and seals with a hiss of air. Jor-El looks again into his son's eyes, so much like his mother's. The boy's quizzical expression freezes on his face as the cryostasis coolant activates, trapping the youngster in time. He would remain an infant until the craft safely landed, the pod's programming designed to keep it's occupant alive nearly indefinitely.
Soundlessly, the small ship rises through the air of the doomed planet, it's thrusters igniting once it enters the endless void of space. Jor-El holds his sobbing wife, watching the shining speck disappear into the cosmos, it's destination far away in the distant Orion-Spur.