The green light from Kilowog's ring began to dim. The glazed look that appeared on his face began to refocus a moment later.
"I've alerted the Guardians about our success," the Bolovaxian announced, lowering his ring hand down to his side. "They seemed pretty happy."
"I would certainly hope so," Vixen responded as she made herself comfortable in her seat. "It wasn't exactly easy, ya know."
J'onn paid scant attention to his fellow team members, more concerned with piloting the Javelin. Black Lightning was in the co-pilot seat, checking gauges, turning a couple knobs and pressing a few buttons. Usually it was either Diana or Hawkgirl with him, but the two were fatigued from their own battle.
After the Martian had left the others in the hangar, the others had gone looking for him and had ended up separated. Diana and Hawkgirl had an encounter with a powerful Kalanorian that had left them in their current state. Upon hearing their description, J'onn couldn't help but note the similarities between the Kalanorian warrior's power and Despero.
In fact, he was willing to believe that this Kalanorian had been one Despero had mentioned during their battle: a Kalanorian blessed with the power of the Flame of Py'tar. If his friends were any indication, this warrior had been quite a challenge.
Glancing over his shoulder, the Martian looked towards the back of the ship and saw a dull white light flowing down from the ceiling. Within the circular light was Despero's hulking form, the Kalanorian on his knees, head bowed, his arms restrained behind his back with power dampeners. He had the look of a man accepting his circumstance, a stark contrast to the vengeance-filled warrior the Martian had battled.
All three of Despero's eyes were closed. His breathing was steady, relaxed. There was no look of anger, or seething rage upon the man's awakening. He had carefully taken stock of his circumstance and said nothing.
Returning his attention to the windshield, J'onn saw the Kalanorian armada. The Javelin was slowly drifting away from the warships, facing them head on. A few of the spaceships were beginning to turn in the same direction, angling to their right, which was followed by others. The smaller ships were making the turns quicker than the larger ones.
It was a welcoming sight. The Kalanorian fleet was no longer on the warpath towards Earth. It was what everyone desired.
So why was it J'onn felt so unsettled?
"All systems are go," Black Lightning reported, glancing to the Martian. "I've even done a sweep of the electrical systems to make certain there isn't some nasty surprise added by the Kalanorians. We're clear."
That was certainly a concern. While J'onn doubted any Kalanorian would risk the death of their leader, that did not mean a trap could not be set. A device to short out their navigation systems; remotely activated gas bombs with knock-out gas; even an electrical inhibitor to short out the engines were all possibilities. Thanks to Black Lightning's affinity to electricity, he could search out the entire spacecraft for any new additions so that they could take action.
Adjusting his grip on the steering wheel, J'onn turned it and the Javelin responded, turning to face away from the retreating Kalanorian force. According to the navigation system, they were facing the direction Earth was.
Without further delay, J'onn flew the ship back home, the stars slowly moving from in front of them and then speeding off to the sides of the windshield.
"You're quiet," Black Lightning murmured, capturing J'onn's attention. "Is something wrong?"
"No," he responded quietly. "As far as I can sense it, nothing is wrong, but for some reason that concerns me."
"Why is that?" the man questioned.
"While I am grateful, I cannot help but feel as if this mission had gone too well," the Martian admitted. "In comparison to the previous invasion, this one has gone exactly to plan."
"I think our time fighting the Legion of Doom is affecting you," Black Lightning suggested. "We had such a difficult time with them that this one seems easy in comparison. Now, I won't say that this was an easy mission at all; quite the opposite actually. All of us getting split up and then those Kalanorians trying to brainwash us like we feared—I can't say that this was a cakewalk."
That was an excellent point. Perhaps J'onn was letting his paranoia and prejudice get the better of him. The Justice League had missions that were remedies quicker than others, so why not this one? The threat Despero posed was perhaps what made everyone so alarmed. For the conflict to end as it had just did not seem to fit.
And yet, he simply could not shake off the feeling that this was not the end.
Everything was proceeding apace. However, Luthor had been here many a time, and he knew not to get comfortable. So many times everything was either going to plan, or they were exceeding his expectations, and then it all crashed down. The Amazo debacle was only the latest in a long line.
Not for the first time did he consider how the Metal Men could fail him. There was still much about Magnus he did not know, yet somehow the young prodigy was hired into his company, keeping a low profile ever since. Maybe at one time he would have had his sole attention on the young man, but after acquiring him, the C.E.O. then attended to other business.
Next, there were the personalities within the Metal Men. Truly, this was an advancement in artificial intelligence, but was it a profitable one? There were too many unknowns, not taking into account the additions he had Magnus program into them.
Once his mind had begun to run around in circles, the business mogul found himself turning to the normal, everyday running of his company. Checking on the stock market, which was going both ways, so many ups and downs in such a short period in time, and it was all thanks to those Thanagarians and their apocalyptic announcement.
The news was nothing but frivolous, and finding anything that wasn't speculation was tricky. The paranoia that was feeding off of this had quite a few employees running for the hills. Well, their employments were going to be terminated; he had little patience for those who were so easy to panic.
Luthor soon found his train of thought interrupted. A message had been sent to him straight from security. A simple pop-up window was the form it took, and the mogul used the time he had to read it. He felt alarm and anger; someone was hacking him.
Him meant LexCorp, but what was LexCorp but an extension of himself? After the Brainiac hackings, cybersecurity had become paramount for him, and he liked to think he had one of the best in the world right now. Thanks to the treasures he had liberated from the alien's own ship, advancements in that field had been sped up by lightyears. The best was kept here and the rest sold to whoever wanted them.
So who had managed to get through?
Well, he was tech savvy, and he did understand programming. Engineering was also an area of expertise for him. While he was more than sure that his own security was doing what they could about the hack, Luthor felt his personal touch was needed.
Minimizing the window, Luthor brought up another and went to work finding the source of the hack. He knew all the ins and outs of LexCorp, so it didn't take long to discover that someone had initiated the hack from within the building. Was there a leak? An infiltration? How had his security been beaten this time?
A bigger, more important question was what had been compromised? The hacker was in his network, going through his files. Maybe not the ones on his personal computer, but damn it, every file in this building was his.
Another window popped up on his screen, just an update the hack was still active and current—
Luthor snatched up his phone and dialed the correct extension. "Can you trace it?" he demanded as soon as his call was picked up. "Talk to me."
To his credit, the voice who spoke was straight to the point, "They're still in the system. So far, they haven't gotten into anything too sensitive. We're running the trace now—hold on."
By that tone, something was up. Luthor waited as patiently as he could considering the circumstances. Still, the news that the less secure files had been accessed…
Which files exactly…?
He was back to the keyboard, back to his own search. His gut was telling him to check, if only to relay his own anxiety. He brought up the files on Project Metal Men, because at one time they had been a lower priority, meaning they had less security. After he expressed interest, of course they would be elevated to a higher security protocol, but had the elevation happened yet?
He found the files, then he checked the access history and—damn it all to hell.
Luthor could see the history, could see how few accesses there were until there was a great increase in the recent weeks. The mogul recognized his own handle, along with the dates and times that he had opened up the files. Magnus' handle was all over them. But there, right there, was a handle with no identification.
It was a simple security protocol, really, one that most wouldn't consider to be one. Most wouldn't think to have such a protocol, or even consider to be one. But Luthor wasn't most people, and right now he had all the proof he needed that someone else had accessed the files. No handle, no clearance, no anything to identify them other than the date and time they had peeked.
"Sorry sir, but we're having trouble with the trace. Something is disrupted it. Whatever measures they're using—"
"Direction," the business mogul interrupted. "Tell me if you find out which direction the hack is coming from."
This was something still in the prototype stage, but now it was time for a test. Hackers were always trying to get where they weren't supposed to and part of that was covering their tracks. With most signals being wireless, there was less of a need to rely on the tried-and-true wired lines.
However, if the hack was current, the signal was as well, and it had to be coming from somewhere. Obviously, the hacker had programs to hide where exactly they were, but the signal had to be entering LexCorp from a direction. For example, if the hack was out in California, then it could only send the signal east if they did not want to cover three-quarters of the planet. To LexCorp, it would be coming from the west as a result.
"West, Mr. Luthor."
Considering who he suspected, Luthor was going to take a gamble here. Bringing up a LexCorp satellite onto his monitor, the city of Metropolis in real time appeared, and he zoomed in on LexCorp itself. Moving the digital map left, he eyed the tops of the buildings west of LexCorp, searching for anything—
Hello.
His fingers tapped on the keyboard, and soon enough, he was running a recognition program. In mere seconds, he had an identification.
Crouching on a rooftop to the west of his building was the hacker, the metal that made up his body standing out from the gravel of the rooftop itself. There was little effort given into hiding from satellites, and so he was clear to his green eye as the light of day.
Glancing at the identification program, he had a name. Victor Stone, part of the inaugural class that was the T.I.T.A.N. Initiative, and a Teen Titan operating in the city of Jump City. Of course he was keeping track of it. The Justice League, and therefore Superman, was involved. What were the odds this boy was so far from home by accident?
Because Batman was part of the Justice League, thus he had to be behind this. The man couldn't go after him directly, and so had recruited children. No, not just any ordinary children, but Justice League Lite. An interesting tactic, and if one was here, where were the others?
More importantly, what was he going to do about it?
"Thank you, I'll handle it from here," Luthor spoke and ended the call. Then he buzzed the intercom and waited. Mercy arrived immediately, and so he began, "I need you to review all security footage and procedures. Someone managed to hack into the system, and I want to know if they had any help. If you find anyone, you know what to do."
Mercy gave a sharp nod and left. Luthor returned to his computer monitor and began to search the area around LexCorp. He would find these self-described Titans and then…well, what would he do about them?
The answer was simple. There were always opportunities to profit, you just had to see them for what they were. There were some youths with superpowers working at the behest of a man who claimed the symbol of a flying rodent. It would be simple, too simple, to unleash his security force on them, but why do so when they could better serve as test subjects?
The best way to prove how effective a new product was was to give it a field test.
This was getting irritating. Will had gone through everything, software, hardware, every miscellaneous process he could think of, but for the life of him, he had yet to answer this one simple question.
Where did the stutter come from?
"I-I'm sorry. This m-m-must b-b-b-be frustrating for y-you," Tin apologized for the nth time. By now, the young prodigy had begun to ignore it, and the apologies were nearly background noise. "I-I-I know I-I'm not as valuable or as st-st-st-strong as the others. I-I'm such a disappointment."
That was another thing. Where was this low self-esteem coming from? He sure as hell hadn't programmed that. In fact, he wasn't sure where these personalities were coming from either.
"Who is this?" That was Lead's slow and deep voice, and wondering what the robot was up to, the prodigy looked away from the monitor he was facing and stared.
"That's a vending machine," he stated dumbly.
Lead did not look away, staring at the food dispenser. "She's pretty."
What? What? What was…?
His shoulders suddenly jostled, a golden arm slinging around him. Will found himself being turned and soon enough was facing the All-American face of Gold. "You know, I'm the leader. If you need me to keep these knuckleheads in line, just say the word. They'll listen to me."
High above, his liquid body stretching about, Mercury called down, "No one made you leader! I know I didn't!"
"Let's not argue," Platinum cut in, trying to play the role of peacemaker. "Gold? We haven't had any discussion about leadership. You can't claim you are the leader just because you think you are. And Mercury, you could have more tact."
"No need for tact when humans need to be exterminated!" Mercury cackled.
Will's eyes were darting about, watching each speaker then turning to the next. The banter seemed never ending once it got started, and it was boggling his mind. It had him turning back to the computer monitor—once Gold had given him back his personal space—and once more ran another diagnostic.
There had to be something here, because while he was programming artificial intelligence, this was beyond any of his expectations, so what went wrong? Or happened? Was it a code in his original programming, or was it a side effect of the data that Luthor had downloaded into the Responsometers?
Was it the Responsometers themselves? They were his own design, everything from the programming to the circuitry, he had a hand in making it all. There was an explanation here, there had to be, and Will was going to find it one way or the other. It didn't matter how long it took.
Glancing at Tin, he noticed as the robot had shrunk in on itself, doing so successfully even. Noticing the human eyes watching it, Tin flinched and stammered, "I-I'm s-s-sorry for causing trouble!"
Will found himself shaking his head. "You're not causing any trouble. I am. Whatever I programmed into the Responsometers is my fault and I need to find it."
"Find what?" Iron called out from where it was trying to pull Lead unsuccessfully from around the vending machine. The vending machine was starting to look a little…dented. Was this a cause for concern?
Sighing, Will zeroed in on the data that was flickering its way up the monitor. "Whatever is causing this abnormality. The emergence of any kind of personality should not be possible, not even with the most advanced of artificial intelligence. I need to fix this, I need—"
Suddenly, Will found himself being pulled up out of his seat, and continuing to go up, his legs dangling in the air. Mercury was now in his face, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What exactly needs fixing, Doc? I'm perfect as is. So tell me, Doc, what's broken?"
Will found himself swallowing, staring back into metal eyes that were more expressive than they had any right to be. What was he seeing in them? It couldn't be emotion, could it? Because it couldn't be because how do you program or code emotions? The technology wasn't that advanced!
Swallowing, he answered, "I don't know. I need to find out."
"Find out, hmm?" Mercury nearly purred. Without warning, Will found himself being let go, but that was several, several feet in the air. His drop immediately slowed as the liquid metal robot snatched him, holding his body in a bridal hold, lowering them both until he was unceremoniously plopped right back into his seat. Around and around both the human and the chair he sat in, Mercury wrapped his body around both human and furniture though not touching either. "Have you not thought that there is nothing broken? Maybe we're perfect just the way we are."
"I-I'm not," Tin squeaked out.
Mercury gave a dead glare at the squirming robot. "Tin's not, but the rest of us are just peachy."
Buffing a hand against its chest, Gold examined its fingernails and quipped, "I'm more than peachy. I'm solid gold."
"So what's to fix?" Mercury practically purred. Pausing, the robot gave it some thought. "Well, I suppose we should be fixing that human conundrum first, wouldn't you say?"
"You're not going to hurt Will, Mercury," Platinum warned, slowly approaching.
"Why? Why would I ever want to hurt our Will? Even if he is a meat bag, he still has his uses," Mercury remarked dismissively. "I'm talking about all the other humans, like that bald one."
"You're not talking about hurting Luthor, are you?" Will asked hesitantly.
"Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not," Mercury teased.
The clacking of dress shoes interrupted this one-sided conversation, seeing as how Will really wasn't doing his best to be fully participating in it. Still, the noise, which he rarely heard, was enough to draw his attention away and find two intruders in his domain.
He winced. He had to remember that…that Luthor and that woman weren't intruding when Luthor owned his domain. And that woman, the one that had manhandled him…she was Mercy. Even as reclusive as he was, Will had heard the stories about her. How tightly she had gripped him made him believe every one of them.
"Magnus, I'm not intruding, am I?" Luthor greeted, commanding the room with his very voice. The CEO didn't raise an eyebrow at the sight before him, maintaining his dignity and poise.
Looking at the Metal Men, Will answered, "Nothing. Just running some diagnostics."
"Good. I have another field test for them," Luthor continued, taking several steps closer to the young man.
Frowning, Will asked, "Another test? I'm still—"
"This will be different," Luthor interrupted seamlessly. "This will be something more akin to in the field compared to previous tests. We're able to find out just what the Metal Men are capable of."
"Wait, wait, wait, I don't understand," the young prodigy said, raising a hand up as if the very gesture would stop the onslaught of words. "What is going on? What are you talking about?"
"Magnus, there is a very critical opportunity that has fallen right into our laps, and I am going to be taking advantage of it," Luthor stated, a slight edge in his voice. "I want the Metal Men to be prepped and readied as soon as possible. No delays. I will then brief them on their assignment. Now do as you're told; time is of the essence."
Over the CEO's shoulder, Mercy peered over, her hard eyes daring the prodigy to say anything that wasn't an affirmative. It was that and that alone that kept Will from speaking his mind. Normally, he didn't care who knew what he thought, but over the past month or so, and spending so much time in the company of Lex Luthor himself, he was beginning to learn there were people who you didn't speak your mind to.
Oh, the urge to do so was there, but new-found control stopped it. Luthor wanted the Metal Men ready for some unknown opportunity, whatever that meant, and it was time sensitive as the business mogul wanted them ready now. Further hesitation might make this even more uncomfortable.
"Okay," he said.
Luthor's smirk was as sharp as it was vicious.
"The exterior should be one hundred percent completed in the next couple of days, so we've begun internal construction," Kragger reported, reading off of a tablet. "We've reported to the Earth leaders that the exterior is fully complete as per the construction update they requested."
Hro Talak stared at the image of the generator on one of the screens on the bridge. The outer frame was round, its center hollowed out like a bowl. Surrounding it was another circle with towers placed at even intervals. At the four cardinal direction points, narrow pipelines connected the inner building with the outer wall.
They were ahead of schedule. They would need all of the additional time they had accumulated to install the internal mechanisms that would allow this generator to run.
"I hope you don't think of me as impertinent for ordering the start of the second phase," the lieutenant finished.
"Of course not," Hro responded, keeping his hands on his hips as he continued to stare at the screen. The sooner they completed this project, the better. Any day now, Earth's strike team would be encountering the approaching Kalanorian fleet.
Little word had been heard from them, though that was due to the strike team wanting to maintain radio silence so that they didn't give away their location to the enemy. It made sense to Hro, but that also meant he had no idea what was occurring with Shayera. He was confident in her abilities—after all, she had been stationed on Earth without needing to send a distress beacon. Still, he couldn't help but worry.
"Then allow me to update you on our…intrusion. Thus far, we have not been revisited by the spy," Kragger said. "I've had patrols combing the desert around us in the event there are others out there, but thus far we have not found any."
That was a situation that needed to be handled delicately. They knew not every person on Earth was comfortable with the construction of the generator—the fact there were spies indicated as much. However, just because they had not encountered the spy again did not mean he wasn't out there, lurking somewhere close by. It only spoke to their skill in avoiding detection.
Considering he had not heard word from a delegate of Earth, it would seem whatever the spy had discovered had not been revealed as of yet. That was of small consolation.
"Continue the patrols," Hro ordered. "I want any and all spy agents apprehended. It is still too early for the Earthlings to learn about the capabilities of the generator."
"Of course," Kragger agreed. "In fact, I will—"
The doors to the bridge suddenly slid open and a fellow Thanagarian rushed through the doorway. "Commander Talak!" the man shouted, cutting Kragger off. For a moment, he looked frantic until he spotted the Commander.
Hro had turned around to regard the grunt and see the apprehension within the man, right until he located him. "Sir!" the Thanagarian announced, coming to a stop as he saluted.
"Private," Hro acknowledged.
"Sir, we have just received a communique with this planet's Justice League. It concerns Lt. Hol's strike team!"
Hro didn't miss the slight hint of distaste on Kragger's face, but the man knew better than to voice it. "What is the message?" the Commander inquired as he stepped towards the private. He wanted to know what this communique entailed and he would not allow distance to alter it.
"Lt. Hol's team was successful," the grunt reported, standing at attention. "They are in possession of Despero and are returning to Earth."
Hro actually widened his eyes at that. He had his doubts if the Martian could back up his claim as to defeating the tyrannical Kalanorian. It would seem a review of Shayera's notes on the Martian was necessary. With the carnage that Despero had wrought, one could not underestimate the person that took him down.
However, this officially put them on the clock.
"Was there anything else?" Kragger questioned. "What of the Kalanorian fleet? Were there any casualties?"
Hro immediately focused on the messenger. "All members of the strike team are returning. There were no reported injuries, or deaths."
Relief filled the Commander. At the very least, Shayera was okay. Whatever was said about the Kalanorian fleet, he didn't hear, instead setting his sights onto Kragger. "We need to complete the generator immediately. It needs to be operational before Shayera and the others return with Despero. I do not care how many men we need to pull to get this done—just do it."
"At once, Commander," Kragger responded. "By your leave."
As Kragger and the messenger left, Hro turned back to the computer monitors. He could practically hear the ticking clock, even though no such device was near. The amount of time from Shayera's departure to now was all they had left. If her team returned before they were ready…
No, they would be ready. Despero needed to be dealt with immediately. Twice now, his warpath upset the balance of the universe and he would not allow a third, not if he could help it.