A/N: Welcome back, The Violet Rose, and thanks again to you, leathman. It's nice to have more than one reviewer again =)

We're getting close to the end now - only a few more chapters to go. There's still time for more cameos and Easter eggs, though, even in this chapter.

Chapter XIII: Under Siege

3 November 2998

A brown-haired girl popped up on a small comscreen. "Mr. Brande, Reep's on line 1 for you."

"Thank you, Luornu."

"You're welcome." The small comscreen disappeared momentarily, then rematerialized an instant later, now bearing the image of Brande's young, orange-skinned son. Brande immediately used his fingers to enlarge the comscreen.

"Hi, Dad."

"Hello, son. Listen, I'm sorry I didn't come visit like I was supposed to, but I heard about the auction at the Superman Museum, and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to make it part of my charity drive."

Reep chuckled, his antennae waving. "Dad, it's okay – I know how much you love the superhero legacy, especially Superman's. Besides, you're coming home for a while after that, right?"

Brande beamed jovially, obviously pleased that Reep understood his deep-seated fascination with the Age of Heroes. Details of the First Age of Heroes had been lost in the Great Crisis, and few people now even knew it had existed; but the legacy of the Second Age of Heroes was still a stirring inspiration for many in the galaxy. Brande himself had been very taken by the Superman Memorial on his first visit to Earth as a boy, and his love affair with the Age of Heroes had led to an increasing rapture for the planet Earth itself. Thus, when the time came for Brande to make himself a new persona, he unhesitatingly chose to be an Earthling. After suffering a disease that robbed him of his natural Durlan shapeshifting abilities, he'd chosen to remain as a human permanently, and had then moved to Osterkey (a quiet, smallish city located roughly where Columbus, Ohio once was) with his children, legally changing his birth name of Ren Daggle to the name that was now recognized throughout the galaxy.

"Of course, Reep. I should be home by Monday evening. I've already asked Luornu to keep my schedule clear for the next two weeks."

"Luornu gets all the fun," Reep complained. "When am I gonna get to follow you on one of these trips?"

"Luornu's my secretary, Reep," Brande reminded him. "And you have to attend school."

"Ugh."

Brande shook his head at his son's obvious distaste for the idea. Reep attended a public school in Osterkey, but because of his father's enemies in both the political and industrial world, he had adopted the human alias of Remy Brisson. Reep, however, vastly preferred his real name, Reep Brande – a mixture of both his Durlan race and Terran upbringing – and his dislike for school stemmed mostly from the fact that none of his peers could know who he truly was. No one outside the Brande household knew that Brande had any children at all, and Reep had not yet found anyone he and his father deemed trustworthy enough to tell his real identity, with the result that the young Durlan lived a rather sheltered life and could only be himself within the safety of the Brande estate in Orangewood Manor.

"You know why it's necessary, Reep," said Brande.

Reep mumbled discontentedly. "I know, but why can't I do what Luornu does?"

"Luornu is quite a bit older than you are, and I never actually adopted her."

Reep snorted. "You as good as. She's practically your daughter, and you know I think of her as my sister."

Brande sighed. "Reep, I promise, when you're old enough, we'll talk about discarding the deception," he pledged. "Until then, we need to maintain the charade. I have a lot of enemies, son – dangerous enemies – and I need to keep you and your siblings safe. I don't…" Brande paused, calming his emotions before continuing in a quieter voice, "I don't want you to end up like Liggt."

Reep's face was solemn. "I miss him too."

"I know you do, son." Brande cleared his throat. "Where's your brother?"

It hurt Reep more than he would ever say to know that Brande would never be able to ask that about Liggt again. "Jan's meditating. Want me to call him?"

"No, don't disturb him. I'll call later." Brande looked at his son, determined to lift the somber moment. "Don't you have schoolwork to do?"

His deliberate question had the intended effect. "It's Saturday!" Reep exclaimed in horror.

"Homework still needs to be done, Reep."

"It's not due till Tuesday. I'll do it on Monday."

"I'm coming back on Monday, Reep," Brande reminded him. "Wouldn't you rather spend time with me than do homework?"

Reep blinked. "Yeah, you're right." He sighed. "Okay, I'll do it tonight."

"Attaboy." Brande smiled approvingly at him. A gentle reminder from Luornu about his 1500 meeting appeared in one corner of the large executive screen. "I have to go, Reep – I've a meeting with the manager of the museum about tonight's auction."

"Okay. Bye, Dad. Love you."

"I love you, son."

"Are you two in position?" Rokk inquired over the three-way comm. line.

"I am," Imra confirmed.

"Locked and loaded," Garth concurred.

"You know you're not actually carrying any weapons?" Imra said to him, prompting a scoff from the Winathian.

"Why would I need to? I am a weapon."

"Not yet you're not," interjected Rokk. "Keep it under wraps, Garth – the auction doesn't start for another half-hour."

"Don't worry, Rokk – I've got it under control."

"What exactly did Imra teach you to do yesterday, anyway?" Rokk asked suspiciously. He hadn't been able to figure out why there'd been an awkward silence between the two when he went to get them from Imra's room, though the lesson had clearly been successful – Garth suddenly had total control over his powers. The rather flustered interaction between them after that hadn't lasted long, and they were back to normal now – but neither of them was telling what had transpired to cause it.

And it seemed Garth wasn't about to change that status quo. "I gotta say, Rokk, I'm really impressed with this plan," he deflected. "I didn't think you had such strategy in you."

Rokk exhaled, knowing he wouldn't be getting an answer to his question anytime soon. "Who do you suppose came up with the Knights' no-sentry formation in the Magnoball Cup final?" he played along.

There was an incredulous pause over the comm. line. "Are you serious?" Garth exclaimed. "That was your idea?"

"Of course," Rokk replied smugly. "I'm not the captain for no reason."

"Rokk Krinn, I believe I misjudged you." Rokk could tell that Garth was grinning by his tone of voice.

"Yes, I believe you did," he agreed. "Now shut up and keep watch."

"Aye-aye, captain."

Rokk was sure if he could see Garth now, the irrepressible redhead would be smirking. However, although Rokk had a clear line of sight to where Garth was lurking near the Superman statue, the holorings Imra had modified were doing their job – all three of them were very well camouflaged, blending so thoroughly into the background that, when coupled with the darkness, they might as well have been invisible. There were both pros and cons to this; no one would be able to see them, true, but being near-invisible came with its own disadvantages.

"Ouch!" exclaimed Garth.

"What did you do?" demanded Imra's suspicious voice.

"I stubbed my toe against Superman's foot."

Imra was less than impressed. "Really?"

"Hey, it's a little hard to avoid bumping into things when I can't see myself move."

Rokk had to admit, it was slightly disconcerting not to be able to see his hands as he slipped on a pair of vision glasses. On the ground, a limousine pulled up in front of the golden Superman, floating about three inches off the ground as the occupants stepped out. "All right, you two, be quiet. People are starting to arrive. Imra, keep your mind open. Garth, have a look at everyone who approaches the entrance – and for goodness' sake make sure you don't get run over by any cars."

Garth snorted, full of skepticism that any such thing would happen.

The three of them got into mission mode. The plan was simple: the minute either of them spotted their target, they would descend on him together and surround him to block off escape. Rokk was hoping their camouflage would keep them hidden, but he knew that they would probably have to reveal themselves at some point – if it came to a fight and they had to use their powers in the open, there was no way they would be able to escape the notice of the guests attending the auction.

More fame, Rokk thought with a sigh.

As more and more people started to arrive for the event, Rokk, Imra, and Garth busied themselves with their respective tasks. Rokk and Imra were both on the rooftops of nearby buildings; Rokk had a respectable view of the front and side entrances to the museum, while Imra was covering the back exits and scanning each arrival's psychic signature. Garth was their ground operative; he hovered near the front entrance behind the Superman statue, ready to spring into action the moment they located the killer – he would be the first to reach him.

"I see the vultures have started to circle," Rokk noted with a glance at where a sizeable crowd of paparazzi had started to cluster around the Superman statue.

"Yep," Garth agreed. "And guess who's here."

"Loretta Lane." Imra sighed. "I guess it would have been too much to expect her to stay away from something happening here, of all places."

"You know," Garth said conversationally, "I can't decide if she's incredibly stubborn or annoyingly dedicated."

"Would you keep your voice down?" Rokk hissed. "You're the closest to her – she could easily hear you."

"Nah, she's too busy forming her questions." Garth's tone changed as a sleek white limousine approached the museum. "Heads up," he warned in a low voice. "Brande's arrived."

Brande, dressed in a forest green suit with brown accents, stepped out of his limo and waved jovially to the reporters, who instantly peppered him with questions, ignoring the slender brown-haired girl who climbed out after him, holograph tablet in hand. Well used to the press' badgering, Brande smiled congenially and put up his hands to stem the flow of queries.

"I'll answer just three questions now, because I have to go in to begin the auction," Brande bargained, "but I'd be happy to give you a full press conference after the event."

The reporters seemed amenable to this idea, and Loretta Lane immediately made herself heard. "Mr. Brande, what do you hope to accomplish with your charity campaign?"

"What any true philanthropist hopes for," Brande replied. "To make the galaxy a better place. The funds raised tonight will be donated to the New Metropolis Children's Foundation, to finance renovations for orphanages and improvements of the New Metropolis foster care system."

"The majority of your charity events thus far have been focused on children's needs," another reporter spoke up before Loretta Lane could ask her next question. "Could you tell me why this is?"

Brande smiled gently. "That's easy," he said. "Children are beautiful, innocent souls, who deserve the best that we have to offer. They are the future of our galaxy, and it is my great joy to help them achieve their potential. Last question," he reminded them.

Once again, Loretta Lane came out on top, seizing the third question Brande had allotted for herself. "The auction at the Superman Museum was not originally part of your campaign. Why did you suddenly decide to include it?"

Brande looked straight at her, recognizing her easily. "Ms. Lane, isn't it?"

"Yes."

Brande smiled again. "Well, Ms. Lane, you of all people should know that if anyone would approve of a noble cause like this, it would be Superman. He was quite possibly the greatest man to ever live, a shining example for us all to emulate – I feel certain that he would want the money from the sale of artifacts from his museum to go to improving the lives of the city's children." The billionaire's brown eyes twinkled. "And, admittedly, being a big fan of him myself, I could not pass up the opportunity to host an event at his museum."

Loretta Lane looked thoughtful, but her rival reporters were already chattering again, hoping to convince Brande to answer a few more questions. Brande, however, smiled apologetically and said, "As per our deal, we'll have to bring an end to this for now. If you have more questions, I'll answer them after the auction. Thank you all." He waved once more before disappearing into the museum with his girl aide; like a herd of sheep following their shepherd, the mob of reporters trailed after him.

"That was insane," Garth exclaimed after Loretta Lane nearly brushed by him on her way into the museum. "I swear, they're like a pack of dogs! I would never be able to deal with that. Hey, Rokk, does the press hound you like that?"

"Not quite as bad, but yes, I do have a tough time of it sometimes. Hence the holoring. Imra, how are we doing?" he inquired.

"Still no trace of the killer," Imra replied. The roads leading to the back exits of the museum were mostly clear, and no one had approached from there. "He's probably intending to slip in through the side once the auction is in full swing."

"Do either of you know who that girl with Brande was?" Garth asked curiously. "She kind of looked like a Carggite."

"She's Luornu Durgo, Brande's secretary," Imra informed him. "She's been working for him for about a year."

"How do you know what a Carggite looks like?" Rokk questioned of Garth.

"Cargg's just one star system from Winath. We share a long-lasting trade agreement."

Something fluttered against the back of Imra's mind, and she instinctively focused on it. "Garth, Rokk, he's here."

"Where?" Rokk's tone was all business.

"East entrance."

"I see him," Garth confirmed, already moving. "Should I shock him?"

Before either Rokk or Imra could answer, Garth's yell of pain reverberated over the comm. line.

A/A:

1. Osterkey and Orangewood Manor are my own creatios...if you can call making up a name a creation.

2. Diamond Earth Reep was born and raised on Earth, so I've given him the name Brande instead of Daggle.

3. I had to dig pretty deep to find Liggt Daggle (Liggt Brande in this universe); he only existed in Pre-Zero Hour comics, in which he was Reep's twin brother. Pre-Zero Hour Durla was a barbaric planet, and in the case of twins only one could survive to adulthood, so all twins were forced to participate in a duel to the death as a rite of passage. Reep was forced to kill Liggt in their duel, which was what made him leave Durla.

4. I'm not sure if I'll be able to update tomorrow - it depends on whether I can get wifi. If I can't, just check in for a few days until you see the new chapter - it won't be posted any later than the weekend.