I do not own any DC Characters used herein, and am only employing them in a story meant for entertainment purposes only.
Man Of Steel
Original Story By Twisted-Wun & LJ58
Edited and Reposted (With Permission) by LJ58
6
Lois grinned as she read the front page story with her name in the byline for a change of late.
For once, she had managed to trump Kent's bizarre luck at grabbing high profile stories from under her nose.
This time, not only did she get the story on Superman's dramatic win over that Metallo creature, as he was now being called, but she got the exclusive on the news that the mayor had chosen to deputize Superman as a special officer with the authority to step in during high risk emergencies to aid the citizens of Metropolis.
Not only that, the governor himself had stepped in soon after, extending the hero's authority to cover the state as a special marshal. They were still waiting to hear what the President's response, but the governor had already demanded the army back off, and stand down. The mayor had already strongly urged them to take their war games elsewhere, no one being fooled by their less than innocuous presence near the city limits.
It didn't help them that one of their exercises almost blew an airliner out of the sky, and only Superman's timely intervention saved over two hundred passengers from a fiery death.
In just twenty-four hours, Superman had gone from a suspect alien vigilante to a celebrated hero.
She couldn't help but grin at the headline as she eyed the paper spread out on her desk, the accompanying photo one of Jimmy's better efforts at capturing the hero in motion. He was pictured just before he flew off holding that mangled torso taken from Metallo, his cape dramatically waving behind him as he rose into the sky.
By contrast, Kent's exposé on Luthor, and his suspected ties to the underground Cadmus Labs only made it to page two. Still, word was that Dr. Luthor was holed up with his lawyers, fighting a string of warrants and wants that leveled a lot of very serious charges at him after his robo-buddy started blabbing. It seemed that John Corbin, a noted mercenary long before his dramatic transformation into an android, had done a lot of dirty work for Lex in the past. It was how he had earned the dubious honor of becoming his literal killing machine.
"Great story, Ms. Lane," Jimmy grinned as he eyed not the banner, but the photo.
"Thanks. Your pictures weren't too bad, either," she allowed.
"So, ah, have you seen Mr. Kent?"
"Not since this morning. He said he had an errand, or something to take care of," she huffed. "Honestly, I don't see how he ever gets any stories, because it seems he always running off just before….."
"Ms. Lane?"
She laughed, shaking her head.
"Never mind. Just having a stupid idea. A really stupid idea," she declared as she eyed Jimmy. "So, why do you need that treacherous snake for anyway?"
Jimmy sighed, then said, "He was going to show me some new techniques for zooming that would help improve my photos," he admitted.
"So, he's a photographer, too?"
Jimmy didn't miss the complaint in her voice.
"I guess he just knew…..some stuff," he shrugged.
"Funny, isn't it?"
"Ms. Lane?"
"I just mean, funny, how Kent seems to know so much about….everything," she murmured thoughtfully.
"Isn't what a reporter is supposed to do," Jimmy asked her.
Her expression suggested he should just drop it. He did.
MoS
"I still don't see anything," the voice murmured as eyes raked the consoles before him even as he looked past the cockpit out at the unrelenting icy landscape below.
"Well, something is up here. Or the boys back home wouldn't have us up here….. And, hello," he said, tapping something on his camera monitor.
The pilot looked down at his own digital console, the overlay of the ground far below him fed to his ship by orbiting satellites even higher up giving him a highly accurate view of the target.
"Nose cams confirm it, Base Ops," the co-pilot reported, turning from the live feed from the cams. "We have a definite anomaly below at the targeted coordinates. We now know where our alien has been nesting. And it looks like one big nest."
"Dagger-Two, you are authorized to go hot. I say again, go hot," the grim voice on their radio advised. "Proceed to stage two of your mission now."
The two men in the bomber swallowed hard, and glanced at one another as the pilot radioed back.
"Dagger-Two is hot," he said, flipping a series of switches that lit up a hitherto dark side of his console before him as the big jet turned to circle the area that they had finally narrowed down thanks to the endless satellite hours tracking the trajectory of their target. "Please confirm stage two."
"Stage two is a go. Fire on your discretion."
"Just bomb the damn thing," another voice growled over their radios as someone in flight control obviously got itchy.
"Dagger-Two is confirming stage two. We are green and go, heading over target now."
"We've got no lock," the co-pilot hissed. "Something is interfering with target acquisition. We cannot lock. I say again, no lock."
"It doesn't matter," the flight coordinator told them. "Just deploy. Now."
"Dagger-Two is hot, and the package is away," the pilot snapped even as they felt the telltale shudder through their fuselage as something heavy departed their ship. They flew on, adding speed even as their ensured their electronic shielding was on, and operating at full strength. They were barely at the minimum safe distance when the entire aircraft was buffeted by the shockwave, and the dimly lit sky suddenly blossomed with blinding a glare that had them recoiling in spite of the fact they were not even facing the detonation.
"Dagger-Two report," someone demanded impatiently as the men fought to keep their aircraft up as they rode out the shock wave as one of the biggest bombs ever built exploded with raw, primal fury just a few miles behind them.
"Dagger-Two….confirms package delivery," the pilot said somberly.
"Dagger-Two, are you fully operational?"
"Affirmative, Base," the pilot reported grimly. "Those new shields worked just as advertised," he reported, his tone suggesting, 'For once.'
"Good," the gruff reply came. "We want you to do a flyover, and confirm target's destruction before we send in a clean-up crew."
"Dagger-Two is seeking target status," he reported, and the bomber banked hard, flew back around the location of the anomaly, the pilots taking in the devastation below as they eyed the scorched rock, and still smoldering craters. Then they saw it.
"Base Ops, this is Dagger-Two. We have no joy. I say again, no joy."
"You're kidding," someone exploded over the radio. "We didn't even dent it?"
"That is a negative….. Hold on, radar says we have incoming. Something fast…..!"
The pilot looked up even as he realized a thunderous sonic boom had just rattled his ship like a toy in a hurricane. He fought the stick, leveled off, and then realized there was a figure hanging in the air before him.
The 'hero' hovered before him, his eyes blazing red, and then the ship shook again, and then literally fell in half as the two-man crew bailed from the bisected aircraft even as the alien simply stared at them as their chutes deployed, and they floated down towards a no-man's land.
Both men knew the area was going to be more than hot considering the fifteen megaton tactical nuke they had just deployed, but just then, they were more worried about the colorfully clad alien watching them float to the baked earth below.
They were still forty feet from the ground when the apparent hero moved again, and they were jerked violently to one side as they realized he had just grabbed their chutes, and flew them off so fast that the darkened landscape below them was abruptly all white once more.
He dropped them in the snow from just five feet in the air, dropping to land beside the two men as he eyed them with a grim expression.
"That," he finally spoke, "Was both uncalled for, and foolish. My home will defend itself it necessary. Just as I will. You both could have been killed."
"We….were following….orders," the co-pilot chattered, his insulated suit no match for the subzero temperatures around them.
"They were stupid orders, gentlemen. Next time, use your own minds. Now, go."
"Where," the pilot hissed, fearing they were going to be left to freeze out in the arctic wasteland where they had been departed.
The alien pointed behind them.
Both men turned, seeing the faint outline of buildings not far away, and the lights of a small town.
When they looked back, the alien was gone.
Jack Harding eyed his co-pilot, and asked, "I think I'm ready to retire, Spence. You?"
"After I change my shorts," the man replied with a rueful grimace as they turned and staggered through the thick snow toward the town.
MoS
"You're telling me a fifteen megaton bomb didn't even dent it?"
"Satellite scans have since confirmed the structure remains in place. Half the landscape was blasted down to bedrock," the Air Force junior officer told the generals, "But we didn't scratch whatever comprises that dome. Whatever it's made of, it's as tough as that ship of his was reported to be."
Samuel Lane swore.
"This is getting ridiculous. We kept a lid on alien incursions for over forty years, and now we have an overdeveloped alien we can't even touch setting up shop here?"
"I shudder to think what might be inside," a Marine general said, though his eyes suggested he might not mind finding out. Much of their more modern weaponry had come from reverse engineering some of the more comprehensible tech confiscated from illegal visitors to their world.
Illegal meaning any creature that so much as entered their atmosphere. In the military mindset, no visitor was friendly, and several had more than proven it before they were driven off, or more often, terminated.
"How long before X-2 is ready to deploy," someone finally asked General Lane.
"Dr. Luthor said it should be ready any time now."
"That's another thing. We are going to be hard-pressed to keep sheltering that brainiac with all the heat on him lately," a man in a tailored black suit spat. "He's made one mistake too many of late. After we have possession of the X projects, I want Luthor neutralized. Understand, General Lane."
"It's not as simple as that," Sam admitted.
"Make it simple."
"Gentlemen, I'd be the first to admit that Luthor is a dangerous megalomaniac with an uncharted intellect that matches his ego. Unfortunately, he is our megalomaniac, and we couldn't begin to run half the projects we do without him on point. Frankly, we wouldn't have Cadmus without him. We certainly wouldn't have X-2, or any of the new weaponry he's personally developed that kept us ahead in the arms race."
"I believe I gave you an order, Lane," the suit growled.
"Yes, sir, but I'm trying to make a point."
"Which is?"
"I've worked with Luthor since before we first intercepted X-1. I know the man. He conceived, built, and dispatched the Metallo project inside of two days just to test our boy. That said, what kind of precautions do you think he's got in place to protect himself if he's had years to anticipate our decision to…..cut him loose?"
The other two peers in uniform scowled as the suit merely murmured, "That….is a disturbing thought. Still, you have your orders. Carry them out."
"Yes, sir," the general nodded. "You don't mind if I update my will first, do you?"
No one laughed.
MoS
"Don't move," the voice hissed.
The scientist, a man that had felt quite honored to work with Dr. Lex Luthor, was feeling less than honored these days.
First, people started going missing.
Then all the bad press.
Now, 'Metallo' was still all over the media in spite of how easily that alien had stopped it.
Now, something was behind him that had his throat in a vise. A vise that could snap his neck like a twig the way those fingers moved to clamp down on his flesh.
He didn't even try to turn around.
He already knew what would be there if he did.
"What is this place? What's going on here," the X-3 clone demanded.
"You…. You're just confused. You shouldn't be up yet," he babbled.
"Yeah, right. Because laying around while you boneheads shove crap in my head just makes so much more sense," the yet immature clone growled.
Richard Harris cringed, but did not relent.
"I'm serious. We're….helping you. Perfecting you. If you'll only just….."
He groaned as those fingers tightened just enough to make his neck audibly protest.
"Answers, fruit loop. Or I move to the next loser. Your choice."
"All right. All right. What, eh, exactly, do you remember?"
The clone faltered now, and Richard pounced.
"You can't, can you? Remember? It's because you're not finished. Not ready. You are going to be the greatest scientific miracle of our age. And you're going to be Mankind's savior. But you have to trust us, we…."
"I don't remember everything, but I know funny dudes in bad lab coats are bad news," the clone hissed, and shook him like a puppy in his hand. "Just spill. What did you geeks do to me?"
"We made you," a voice behind them both spoke as the clone turned, turning Richard with him, and the scientist gave a faint sigh of relief when he spotted one of their first clones, and the chief of security in his blue and gold uniform.
"Guardian, tell this…..clone to stand down."
"Still playing God, Dr. Harris. Connor," the masked security chief called the clone. "You are a clone, but you're a person, too. Let's not mar your new incarnation with murder right off the bat. Put the man down, and we'll talk. You have my word, no one will try anything."
The tall, lean youth that looked no more than sixteen eyed the man in his hand, shrugged, and tossed him aside.
Richard hit the wall face first, after shattering half the vials and beakers on a nearby table he crashed into as he was flung over it. He did not get back up.
"You're obviously stronger than you realize," Guardian told him. "You'll need to learn to gauge your strength if you don't want to inadvertently hurt someone."
"Maybe I already know my own strength? Guardian, is it? What's with the long underwear," he snorted.
"It beats a hospital gown," the masked man drawled in turn. "And the name is Jim. Jim Harper. My….donor was a cop, and a hero, back in the day. I was reborn here so I could keep doing good work for those that needed a helping hand."
"Somehow, I don't see hiding out in weird labs as doing much good, Jimmy," the teen drawled as he scowled down at the gown he wore.
"I woke you up before they could finish turning you into the perfect little puppet. How's that for a good deed," Guardian asked him.
"You….? What's your angle," the teen demanded.
"Look, you need to know a few things that likely haven't been put into your programming."
"Like the alien daddy bit? I got that much."
"Well, Superman, as they call him, is shaping up to be a hero that might just help save our world. Only some of the people behind Cadmus want to use you, and those like you, to bring him down before he even has a chance to prove himself. I don't like that kind of dealing. Just as I don't like turning innocent clones... Innocent people, into weapons. So I woke you up, and I'm giving you the chance to decide for yourself what you're going to be. Ball's in your court now, young man. The choice is yours."
"Why Connor?"
"Let's just say, your 'donor was named Connor."
"Thought he was named Superman?"
Guardian's lips quirked slightly.
"Your primary donor is that hero. Only Dr. Luthor learned early that pure alien DNA can't be managed. Learned that one the hard way. He managed to finally mesh human and alien DNA in a hybridization that created you. You are the first and only success we've had to date. I would prefer you didn't end up a helpless pawn under his heel."
"What happens when they learn you let me go," Connor asked.
"They won't. I have covered my bases. While I can't technically defy Dr. Luthor, I still have a lot of my own free will, which drives them crazy at times. That's why they were trying to program you like a robot. They're not much on independent thinkers around here."
"Why not just leave with me," Connor asked, looking around, and finally just taking Harris' lab coat for himself.
"That's one thing I can't do. Yet. Besides, I prefer to be here, in place to help anyone else that might need it when the chance comes."
"Okay. I get that. One more thing. Who was….the original Connor?"
"You won't find him. Dr. Luthor eliminated him after his contribution to the project."
"Sounds like this Luthor is a real piece of work."
"You don't want to be around when he arrives," Guardian told him. "Now, I need you to knock me out before you go. Have to make it look good for the others," he smiled when Connor stared at him in confusion as he pulled on the lab coat.
"All right. You seem to have all the answers. What do you think I should do when I leave?"
"Honestly? I don't know. I would suggest you find Superman. Warn him X-2 is about to be released, and Cadmus, and Luthor is still after him. He might be able to help you in ways I can't. But that's all I can offer just now, Connor. That, and good luck."
"Swell," Connor huffed. "Because luck is something that just falls all over the place, is it?"
"It can," Guardian murmured, and cocked his head. "Backup is coming. Time to go, boy. Ready to play your part?"
"How do I get out of here?"
"The fastest way is out the door, right, and then hit the air shaft. From there, it's straight up, and you emerge in the mountains just outside of…"
"Metropolis. Weird, I know the geography, but I've never even see it."
"Here they come," Guardian told them, and now raised a shield he had slung over one shoulder. "Ready to play the part?"
Conner's lips pulled down, and he swung a hard fist at the blue and gold man, hitting the shield dead center. The virtually indestructible shield vibrated loudly, even as it, and the man holding it, went flying back into the hall, bounced off the far wall, and fell to the ground.
Then Connor was moving, his feet all but flying as he lunged past the first guards, ignoring the hail of bullets fired by uneasy men already used to monsters in these halls, and then raced for the end of the hall that appeared to be a dead end.
Until he saw the ventilation panel high in the wall, and leapt up, smashing into and through it, and kept going as he found himself flying upwards so fast he smashed into the end of the duct, and then out into fresh, if smoggy air that wasn't recycled for containment.
He rose higher into the air, staring out over a rocky vista to a sprawling city beyond, and grinned.
"Now this is more like it," he howled, and arched his flight toward the city.
Continued….