Incident at Amwor - A Lantern's Tale

INCIDENT AT AMWOR - A LANTERN'S TALE by BillA1

Disclaimer: The characters Batman, Green Lantern, Hawkgirl, Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, Superman & Flash and their respective secret identities are all owned by DC Comics. This story is intended for my own pleasure and is not for profit. It has been posted to this site for others to read. Places and characters not own by DC Comics are my own creation. Notes: Spoilers up to "Destroyer." This series was inspired by an email exchange with crhblack. A huge shout out of thanks to Merlin Missy for her beta on this story.

Incident at Amwor - A Lantern's Tale

A Justice League Unlimited Story

Rating: (PG-13)

Synopsis: Courage is being scared to death and saddling up anyway. - A John Stewart /Droxelle Story

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CHAPTER ONE

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"You only live twice: Once when you are born, and once when you look death in the face." - Bassho (1643-94)

Fifteen months after Shayera Hol escaped a Thanagarian ambush on an unnamed moon

(A hostel on Altair IV)

His eyes snapped open in the dimly lit room. It had taken a lot of practice, but he'd trained himself to wake up before she did. It helped that this room faced the roadway so he could hear the steady droning of morning street traffic outside the door. She, on the other hand, ignored it all and slept through the noise. He shook his head slightly, reminding himself that she was tired from her recent patrol and the squawking of ten mating hadipps wouldn't have awakened her. Still, he'd make a mental note that in the future, when they returned here to their favorite inn on this planet, they'd get a room on the other side of the building, away from the traffic and the morning sun sneaking into their room through the vertical blinds.

For reasons he'd never be able to adequately describe to anyone other than himself, he found it very satisfying to know that this powerful woman took pleasure in his company. He'd never met anyone like her before and he secretly smiled as this blue-skinned, blonde haired woman seemed to be trying to crawl up his body in her sleep. He moved one of his left arms slightly and as if they were magnetically drawn to each other, her head cradled itself on his chest. His smile broadened when he heard what seemed to be a sigh of contentment escape her lips.

She draped her arm across his chest and he thought to himself that he would have no regrets if the world ended at this moment, for this was a moment he never wanted to end.

He held her a little closer, but not too tightly as he tenderly moved her hair off her face. The strap of her nightgown had slid down her arm as if encouraging him to playfully stroke her shoulder, but he didn't, for fear of causing her additional pain. It was so hard for him not to stare at the bruises on her upper shoulders and around her neck from her latest encounter with some bad guy on some planet in the area she'd patrolled.

She'd told him the name of the villain and how she had dispatched him, but that wasn't important to him at the time --- or now. The only thing that really mattered to him was that she had come back safe and wanted to take comfort in his arms, comfort he wanted to provide.

Suddenly, the ring on her hand started to flash and vibrate rousing her from her sleep. She jumped up, grimacing as she did so, and ringed a uniform on herself. She looked back over her shoulder at him.

Torr-Chal smiled and mouthed the words, "Good morning." She smiled back at him, but said nothing. He'd been startled the first time the ring called her, but in the several years they'd been dating, he was no longer surprised by anything she did.

Droxelle pointed the ring toward the ceiling and called out, "Green Lantern of sector 872 here." He reached across the bed to the night stand on her side and turned the little alarm clock around so he could see the time. He frowned. It was still too early for them to get up.

A greenish holographic image formed in front of her and a little, big-headed man with the same coloring as Droxelle answered, "Greetings, Green Lantern of sector 872."

Torr-Chal had so many questions about the ring Droxelle wore, but he never asked them. She had cautioned him early in their relationship that she was in a dangerous line of work and the less he knew, the better she'd feel. "I might leave on a mission one day and never come back. Let's just live in the moment," she'd said more than once. So he never pressed the issue. After all, they were friends. Just friends, he kept reminding himself, but he knew and he knew that she knew they were more than just friends, much more.

"Our intel," the little blue man said, "believes that Daan-Ro, the leader of the Legion of Fire, is hiding on the planet Amwor in your sector. Kilowog broke up his gang on Bolovax a month ago; however, Daan-Ro and a few of his gang members escaped. We want you to bring him back to Oa so we can incarcerate him in the sciencells. The Green Lantern of sector 2814 will arrive at Amwor in two of your days. He will assist you in the capture of this criminal."

The little man paused. "Any questions?"

"No questions. Expect him on Oa shortly."

The blue man was silent for a moment and then he said, "Good luck, Green Lantern. Graila out!"

The image faded and Torr-Chal sat up. He glanced at the door, then back to her. "Do you have to go right now?" he asked, knowing what her answer would be.

Droxelle leaned across the bed and kissed him on the forehead. "Duty calls," she said as she walked to the door. He got up, retrieved his smock that he'd placed on the chair next to the table the night before, put it on and followed her. She opened the door, faced him and said, "I'll be back the day after tomorrow and then you can remind me how much you miss me."

He smiled, gently held her by the shoulders (reminding himself of her bruises) and kissed her. "I miss you already."

She stepped out of his embrace, grabbed his upper right hand and pressed it against the side of her face, kissed it and stepped back on to the terrace. "Be sure to hold that thought. See you in a couple of days."

He watched her shoot toward the heavens and disappear in the red morning sky. Before he stepped back into his room, Torr-Chal noticed the Thanagarian couple who'd recently bought the inn had watched Droxelle leave as well. He waited the half-second it took for the woman to notice him looking at them before he waved at her. The couple waved back as the woman yelled, "Good morning," to him in Basic. He returned her greeting and closed the door.

Inside the room, he silently prayed to his gods that they would allow Droxelle to return from this mission. And if they did, he'd marry her if she would have him.

There was only one settlement on Amwor, a little planet rotating around a blue sun. Its small population of two hundred would have immediately noticed any new arrivals. She nodded to herself. All she'd have to do was make a couple of inquiries and she'd find this Daan-Ro character quickly. He was clearly a foolish man because this arid, desert-like planet with its limited technology was not the place for an outsider to hide.

As she approached Amwor's atmosphere, Droxelle considered that she looked forward to working with her trainer again. It had been several years since she'd seen John Stewart last and more time than she'd like to admit since he quietly, but firmly, told her he wasn't interested in her in that way.

A long time ago she realized that Stewart wouldn't be interested in her as long as Katma was interested in him. Then she met Torr-Chal and didn't give John Stewart another thought. She'd heard the rumors from other friends in the Corps that after Stewart and Katma split up, he fell in love with a Thanagarian who worked him over pretty good. Those same rumors said he'd since taken up with a human female, but Droxelle knew it wouldn't last. Just as a ciongaclack wouldn't eat in the same place it slept, John Stewart would never fall in love with one of his own kind.

Anyway, Stewart's love life wasn't her problem. She had Torr-Chal and knew that when the mission was over, she would go her way and John would go his because that's what Lanterns did. At least, that's what she was going to do.

She'd arrived on Amwor about fourteen hours ahead of John Stewart by her estimate; that was assuming he was coming from the center point of his own sector. More than enough time to find Daan-Ro and maybe even apprehend him before Stewart got there. After all, she'd had plenty of missions since her sector assignment. She wasn't a rookie anymore, having been tested by the bad guys of her region over the years and easily besting them all.

Upon landing, Droxelle made her inquiries and was told of a stranger who frequented the only bar in the settlement. She had little difficulty finding the place. The entire settlement was comprised of twenty multi-storied buildings, ten on each side of the single street that ran through the center of the town. Shops and stores were on the first floor and residences were on the upper levels.

The tavern, from the outside, was the kind of drinking establishment she expected to find in the seedier sections of her homeworld Chelor. The inside of the bar lived down to her expectations as well. There were no stools at the bar counter, but there were five tables with two chairs each in the center of the dimly lit room. There were perhaps five people in the place counting the bartender and Droxelle. She noted upon entering the place everyone looked up at her except for one man, seated at a table, who ignored her and continued to gaze into his drink.

She asked the bartender to point out the stranger in town. He nodded at Droxelle, then motioned with his eyes toward the man at the table, the one who didn't look up when she entered. "Orders one drink and looks at it all day long," the barkeeper said. "I mean he just stares at it. He's the first customer in the morning and the last one to leave at night, but I don't make another coin from him after he buys the first - not one more coin."

Droxelle nodded in acknowledgment and said, "Give me a Lavian Sloe." The barkeeper nodded and Droxelle turned, leaned with her back against the bar and faced the stranger at the table. The stranger looked up at her as if he sensed she was looking at him.

Suddenly he stood and walked toward her, bringing his drink with him. His floor-length blue tunic and hood hid his face and most of his body as he seemed to glide across the floor to her.

She heard the clunking sound of a goblet being placed on the counter behind her and the bartender saying: "Here you go," but she never took her eyes off the stranger as she watched him walk up to the bar and stand next to her. "That's not the drink of a pretty woman," he said pointing behind her.

Droxelle turned, picked up the blue drink in front of her and then faced the stranger. She thought it odd that she still could not see his face as close as he was. "Are you Daan-Ro?" she asked, not as a question but as an accusation.

The stranger lowered his head and looked down into his drink, turning partially away from her. "Look, Green Lantern," he said softly. "I just want to be left alone. I don't want to hurt anybody. I quit the Legion business months ago. I just want to live quietly by myself here on this planet." He turned and moved further down the bar, away from her. He kept his back toward her.

Droxelle set her drink back on the counter without tasting it, stepped away from the bar, rose in the air and floated toward the center of the room. "The way I heard it, Daan-Ro, you had help quitting," she said. "I'm taking you to Oa to stand before the Guardians of the Universe for your crimes. You can come along quietly or you can come along unconscious. It doesn't matter to me which one you choose." She readied her ring.

Daan-Ro turned and for the first time she could see his small, beady yellow eyes piercing the darkness of his hood. "Why won't people leave me alone? I didn't want to hurt anyone, but they wouldn't give me what I wanted. And now you're not giving me what I want either. Is peace and quiet too much to ask?" He sighed loudly and starting walking toward her. He stopped when he was three meters away. "I'm trying to change. Can't you see that? I'm asking you nicely to leave me alone, Chelorian. I don't want to hurt you."

Droxelle smirked at him. "Unconscious it will be then," she said as she ringed a bubble around Daan-Ro and started moving toward the door with the bubble in tow. The smile fell off her face as she watched him suddenly liquefy and fall out of her bubble. He rapidly snaked in front of her and slithered behind her. She spun to follow. Yellow shapeshifter!

He pointed his fingers at her. She instinctively ringed a shield in front of herself just as he flung his yellow fingers, which assumed the shapes of ice picks, at her.

Droxelle didn't have time to utter a sound as the yellow darts pierced her shield and her flesh as easily as a fish moved in water. She fell to the floor, face first, paralyzed and writhing in pain. She was sure she was being shredded. She heard her own screams filling the bar. She'd never felt pain like this before. She couldn't breathe because she was screaming and she couldn't stop screaming because of the pain. Help. Me. Her ring responded to her mental cry, creating a homing beacon to John Stewart, to any Lantern.

As she lay on the floor unable to move, unable to stop screaming, she could hear Daan-Ro approach. And the instant the hem of his robe skirted her face, she prayed for death or anything that would just... make... the... pain... stop.

Ignoring her screams, he knelt down beside her and whispered in her ear, "I told you I'd changed and wished to be left alone." He placed a gold colored coin on the floor in front of her, and then gently, almost lovingly, repositioned her head so she could see the coin between her screams.

He stood and wiped her tears from his hands.

Just as the darkness finally overwhelmed her, releasing her from the pain, she heard Daan-Ro say, "This is for your suffering, Green Lantern. By the way, your drink is on me."

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CHAPTER TWO

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"Well, there are some things a man just can't run away from." - The Ringo Kid (Stagecoach - 1939)

The first thing Stewart noticed was how dark and dusty the place was. Two windows near the ceiling provided all the light in the room. The only things that told Stewart that this was a hospital were the two beds separated by a curtain and the doctor standing in front of him.

He'd gotten to Amwor nine hours after Droxelle's ring sent out the emergency signal. Her distress call was to anyone, but Stewart was the first to answer. He homed in on her ring and found her here in the hospital, where the locals had taken her after her encounter with Daan-Ro. Her ring, which he was relieved to find still on her finger, terminated the signal when it sensed the presence of another Lantern.

The doctor had assured him that she would be up and about by tomorrow, thanks in great part to her Chelorian physiology. He also confided that while the wounds themselves were not life-threatening, they had been strategically placed to inflict the maximum amount of pain possible to her species without killing her.

"Chelorians don't have a centralized nervous system like a lot of humanoids," the doctor said to Stewart in the doorway. "Instead, there are distributed nerve bundles, clusters if you will, below the skin on various points of their bodies that send regionally collected information to the brain. It was almost like the man who did this to her had a body chart that showed him where these clusters were," the doctor said. "I'm sure she was in agony before she passed out. When they brought her in, they said the man who did this touched each one of the eight knives sticking in her after she lost consciousness and the knives jumped right back into his hands."

He gave a long, nasally sigh before continuing. "Surprisingly, there was no foreign material in the wounds. After we cleaned her up, I closed all the punctures. Her nerve clusters are regenerating. She'll regain consciousness when the regeneration is complete ... probably in an hour or two." The doctor was silent as he reached in his coat, pulled out a gold coin and offered it to Stewart. "Oh. They brought this in with her, too. I understand he gave it to her."

Stewart looked at the coin, then at the doctor and frowned. "I'll make sure she gets it," he said as he took the money. He decided he'd remain at her side until she woke. He'd go after Daan-Ro after he assessed Droxelle's mental state.

He'd been sitting on a small metal chair next to the cot that passed for her hospital bed for almost an hour when she finally stirred and opened her eyes. "Where am I?" she said softly and then she suddenly tried to sit up as she cried out in alarm, "My ring!" Her voice was raspy and she clutched at her throat, closing her eyes.

"Easy there," Stewart said as he placed his hand on her shoulder to keep her on the cot. "Your ring is on your finger where it belongs. You sent out an emergency beacon to me. I got here as soon as I could and found you here. You're in a hospital and the doctor says you'll be up by tomorrow."

He thought she would be happy with the news, but she continued to frown. Droxelle looked at her ring, then looked up at him. "I've never felt anything like ...."

Her voice trailed off to a whisper and Stewart wondered if it hurt her to talk. She shifted slightly in her bed. "I thought I was dying. After a moment, I hoped for death." She looked around the room then back to Stewart. "How long have I been here?"

"About eight or nine hours," Stewart answered, not really sure. "You're too stubborn to die, but there were times when the doctor thought you might not be stubborn enough. Now, you've got to get well so you can get this guy. I recharged your ring, so tell me: what's your plan?"

She looked at her ring again and then grimaced. "Someone else can go get him." She sighed. "I'm finished."

"Finished? You mean you're quitting?"

She looked away from him and whispered as if she were talking to herself, "Yes."

So. This was her breakpoint, the point where a Lantern realized that the ring couldn't protect him or her from everything. Many Lanterns never learned how to deal with the fact that the ring didn't make them invincible. Unfortunately, some only realized it at the instant they were killed. Droxelle was luckier than most and Stewart would need to remind her of that.

"Are you afraid of him?" he asked quietly, shifting in his seat to lean forward. He knew the answer to this question, but she had to be the one to answer it. She had to confront this fear and that started with acknowledgement.

She turned her head to glare at him. "No," she said, then she closed her eyes and answered, "Yes."

"Look at me, Lantern," he said and she opened her eyes. "Listen, you can take this guy. You just didn't your homework and you didn't wait for me. You didn't call up his file from Oa before you went after him either, did you? Otherwise you would have known he was a yellow shapeshifter." He paused and then added, "Droxelle, he's yours. Now again, how do you plan to take him?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Ever been stabbed?" she asked coolly as she tossed her bed covering aside, revealing multiple blood-stained bandages all over her body. "Like this?" she snapped, pointing to her wounds. In hindsight, he would later recall that despite her sharpness, she seemed as shocked at the appearance of her wounds as he was.

Stewart focused on keeping his tone even, not wanting his voice to give away his surprise at badly she'd been wounded. "No," he said flatly.

"Then don't talk to me until you have. You have no idea ...."

He interrupted her, not letting her finish her sentence. "On my world," he said, "we have an expression about getting back on a horse once you've been thrown. Trust me on this. If you don't work through this ... if you don't conquer this ... conquer him, you'll live the rest of your life looking over your shoulder everyday wondering where he's at; wondering if he's coming for you again; wondering, not if, but when you'll ever have to deal with him again. Do you understand what I'm saying, Green Lantern?"

Droxelle looked away as Stewart stood, replaced the covers back on top of her and sat back down. She said nothing and Stewart was sure she was seconds away from mentally shutting down on him.

"Look," Stewart finally said. "Droxelle, do you want your legacy to be that you quit the Corps 'cause some jerkhole hurt you?"

She sat up. There was no mistaking the rising anger in her voice. "I'd rather it be that than to have it say he killed me. You don't have a clue what it was like. I couldn't focus, I couldn't think. I would have done anything to make the pain stop. Do you understand what I'm saying? Anything!" She rubbed her throat again. "I don't ever want to face him again." She turned her head away and said softly, "I'm not going to face him again."

Sadly, slowly, Stewart stood. He'd failed her as a trainer if she wanted to cut and run because of her defeat. While he had never been stabbed, his enemies had hurt him. Doctor Polaris had broken his leg; the Crumbler had cracked several of his ribs. Talak had broken his hand and beaten him severely. The trick, as Katma would say, was to master your fears and not be a slave to them.

"I guess I should go then," he said. "And you should go back to Chelor and pilot those commercial spacecraft like you used to. While you're there, you can pray to your gods that the Daan-Roes of the universe are brought to justice by somebody who can put their fear behind them and do what needs to be done."

He paused, ensuring he made eye contact and said, "Courage is being scared to death and saddling up anyway."

Droxelle ripped the bed covering away and stood. She steadied herself for a moment against the chair Stewart had just vacated and then poked her finger in his chest. Her eyes became narrow slits. "Don't you dare quote your precious John Wayne tripe back to me! Get out!" Her voice cracked.

Stewart looked down at her finger poking his chest and then into her eyes. He stepped back and headed for the door. "Tomorrow at nine o'clock, I'm going to find Daan-Ro and take him to Oa. On your way back to Chelor, make sure you send your ring back to the Guardians." He stopped at the doorway.

"Here," he said as he tossed the gold coin the doctor had given him onto her bed. "I understand Daan-Ro gave you this." She watched as the coin bounced on the bed and settled between the folds of her bed covers. "Right now, he thinks he owns you," Stewart said as he stood in the doorway. "And he's right. He does." Stewart turned and left.

"I said get out!" Stewart heard her scream as he walked down the hall to the building exit. "Screw you and anyone who looks like you!!"

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CHAPTER THREE

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"All battles are fought by scared men who'd rather be someplace else." - Capt. Rockwell Torrey (In Harm's Way -1965)

Droxelle watched Stewart leave, the echoes of her hoarse scream still reverberating in the room. Her body was one large ache. Her throat was raw and it was painful just to swallow. Exhausted, she gingerly sat back down on the edge of her bed. She was angry with herself because she didn't do her homework and Stewart had made it clear he knew it.

She looked at the coin on the bed and then at the ring on her hand. "Tell me about Daan-Ro," she said.

Her ring glowed in response. "Standby," the ring answered back in Droxelle's own voice. "Standby. No additional information on Daan-Ro in sector 872 beyond initial contact nine point five hours ago,"

"Consult the Central Power Battery," she said. "Tell me about Daan-Ro."

"Standby...Standby. Daan-Ro. Native of the planet Baline located in the star system Capella. This system is in sector 674. The Green Lantern responsible for this sector is Kilowog. Shall I contact the responsible Lantern?"

"No. Continue." Then she quickly added, "Wait. Tell me about the inhabitants of Baline."

"Minimal data available. Natives of Baline," the ring answered, "are sentient, myopic, yellow colored shapeshifters. Natural state is gelatinous. Physiology is unknown. Mating habits are unknown. Natives prefer planets with temperate climate."

Droxelle lowered her head and moaned, "How stupid could I be?"

"Unable to answer that inquiry," the ring answered. Droxelle looked down at her ring hand and frowned. "End inquiry!"

The ring stopped glowing and she looked back to the coin on the bed. She picked it up, closed her eyes, squeezed the coin in her hand and cursed. She knew what she had to do.

(9 A.M. the next morning)

Stewart's sleep had been uneasy. He had an unshakeable feeling of loss that he couldn't explain. He knew Droxelle didn't need his approval or concurrence to make decisions about her life, but he felt that he had failed her, that his training didn't equip her with the tools to successfully work through this ordeal.

He'd purposely given Droxelle the time he intended to move on Daan-Ro, in hopes that she would at least be there to back him up, but also, more importantly to 'get back on the horse,' as he'd said earlier to her. He could admit it now that it was clear she wasn't going to show up. He was disappointed. So much for reverse psychology.

He turned his attention back to Daan-Ro. He'd had the shapeshifter under surveillance since early morning and watched him enter the only bar in the settlement. Stewart thought the place reminded him of a saloon from an old western, with its wooden swinging half-doors and large glass front windows. In fact, the whole settlement seemed like a post-civil war western town to him with its dirt streets and wood-like buildings. There were nine or ten large animals, similar in appearance to horses, but as large as elephants, corralled behind one of the buildings at one end of the street. At the other end of the street was a small space port capable of handling three ships the size of the Javelin-7.

Stewart was just about to make his move when a green streak passed him and landed in the street in front of the bar. It was Droxelle. She looked up at Stewart, frowned and then called inside the bar from the street, "Daan-Ro! Step outside! Now!" Stewart thought her voice sounded stronger than it did the day before.

There was no response from inside the building and Droxelle moved to the center of the street. She ringed a giant hand and punched the bar door causing it to swing violently. Then she took what looked like the gold coin Stewart had given her the day before and threw it inside the bar. "Daan-Ro!" she called out again. "I said get out here. Now! I'm taking you to Oa to be punished for your crimes."

After a few moments, Daan-Ro slowly stepped through the doorway and onto the street. "I would have thought you'd learned by now that I just want to be left alone." He started to move toward her.

Droxelle backed away from him. "Stay where you're at," she called out. "Don't move!"

Daan-Ro held his arms away from his body. "Green Lantern, don't be afraid of me. I won't hurt you again if you leave me alone. That's all I want." He continued to walk toward her. "I just want to be left alone. Why can't you understand that?"

Droxelle hurriedly backed away again, keeping distance between Daan-Ro and herself. "I said stay where you're at!"

She leaped in the air and slowly rose skyward keeping her distance from the shapeshifter and keeping the morning sun at her back. She flashed a firm but disapproving look at Stewart and said, "He's mine." Stewart, still airborne, circled to Daan-Ro's side so that Droxelle could see him and he still had an angle on Daan-Ro.

"He's yours, Green Lantern," Stewart answered.

Daan-Ro looked off to his left at the hovering at Stewart, who matched Droxelle's altitudinal distance from him. Then he turned to face Droxelle who still had her back to the sun.

"Are you afraid of me Green Lantern?" Daan-Ro said, still holding his arms away from his body. "Is that why you retreating from me? I won't hurt you. I didn't want to hurt you the last time. I just want to talk to you --- just want to convince you to leave me alone."

Stewart wanted to tell Daan-Ro to shut up and that no one was afraid of him. He wanted to tell him that he was going to be taken down hard and personally punished by him for his treatment of his fellow Green Lantern.

But he said nothing. This was Droxelle's play.

Droxelle rose a little higher, maintaining her distance between herself and the shapeshifter, but keeping Daan-Ro constantly looking into the sun. "I'm not afraid of you," she said, shaking her head. "But I think you have to get much closer than you are so that you can't miss. And you won't get any closer than you are now." Stewart nodded to himself with the realization that she knew the shapeshifter was nearsighted. Then to his surprise and horror, Droxelle started to drift closer to Daan-Ro.

The shapeshifter pointed his hands at her. "Lantern, I think you're close enough now. I asked you to leave me alone and you wouldn't. Now, you must die."

"You first," she growled back as she suddenly disappeared. Both Stewart and Daan-Ro were momentarily confused by her disappearance, then Stewart realized what she'd done when she reappeared directly over the head of the shapeshifter. She'd used her ring to bend the light waves around her, making her invisible.

Daan-Ro, on the other hand, never realized what she did until she formed a bell jar and dropped it on top of him. Then she instantly froze the air inside the jar, trapping Daan-Ro who had started to leap toward her. She rapidly turned the jar upside down as she landed and froze the air one foot above the top of the jar. She made the green jar disappear, leaving behind the alien in the bell shaped block of frozen gas.

Stewart joined her on the ground and made an impatient gesture with his hand. "Did you have to kill him?"

"He left me no choice," she answered flatly. "He wouldn't come peacefully. You saw that." She didn't look at Stewart, but seemed to be concentrating on the frozen alien and the subliming gases. She lifted the block of ice up and froze more air around it. "This criminal will never harm anyone in my sector again."

Stewart shook his head. "You were supposed to bring him to justice - not administer it."

Droxelle glared at Stewart. "No. My instructions were to bring him to the Guardians. The Guardians and justice are not the same --- even I know that. I offered him every opportunity to go peacefully. You seem to be forgetting that part. I offered him life and he chose death. It was always his choice." She paused and looked at the solidly frozen shapeshifter. "He made bad choices and I did what I needed to do."

Stewart glanced back at the ball of ice. A small crowd had started to gather around them. He ringed a pair of ice tongs, lifted the frozen ball and said, "Follow me." He took off toward the clearing near the edge of the settlement next to the space port without waiting for her acknowledgement. However, he did glance back to see if she was following.

She was.

Stewart set the ball down and she landed next to him. "Droxelle, this isn't about this criminal dying," he said looking at her. Her face had an eerie look of serenity about it; a look he'd seen before in the faces of men who had survived a firefight with the enemy. "It's about you killing," he continued. "After you've killed the first time, killing becomes easier to do. Soon you don't feel anything when you do it. No remorse. No regrets. Then one day, it becomes the first weapon in your toolkit instead of your last. It doesn't matter why you kill, but once you start you need less justification and less provocation for the next one. You ...."

"Stop it, John!" Droxelle looked at the ice ball then back at him. "I'm not a trainee anymore and I don't need you to preach to me. He's not the first one I've killed nor am I stupid enough to think that he'll be the last. So don't tell me what I could have done or should have done. You seem less happy that I'm alive instead of he's dead. Well, you know what, John? I'm going to take his carcass to Oa because that was my mission. Then I'm going back to Altair IV so a friend of mine who is probably worried sick about me can remind me why I'm glad I'm alive."

Stewart stood there silently. Then he took a loud, deep breath and let it out slowly, "If you require nothing else from me, Green Lantern, I'll take my leave now." For the first time since he'd known her, he felt uncomfortable around her. He hovered in front of her, waiting for her to acknowledge his departure.

She floated toward him with the ice ball in tow. "For what it's worth, John, you were right," she said softly. "I was afraid of him. I was afraid he'd hurt me like he did before." She momentarily lowered her head then looked back at him. "But I'm not afraid of him now. I don't expect you to understand it, but know that I do understand what I did."

Stewart nodded at her, but said nothing. He turned and headed back to Earth.

He reflected that Droxelle was wrong. Stewart did understand what she did and why she did it. He just wasn't sure that she understood the consequences of her actions.

Not fully. Not completely.

And as he sped away, he couldn't shake the feeling that someday that would be her undoing.

END