The Demons Inside
Copyright November 2005/ June 2008

 

 

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. This story is based on characters from the animated Justice League series episode: "Destroyer" written by Dwayne McDuffie. This story contains references to "Contains Language" by Merlin Missy. My sincerest thanks to xffan_2000 for the read through; however, any mistakes she missed are mine. This story is a follow-up, but not a sequel to Private Conversation -  A RUMOURS Story

 

A/N: If the characters seem out of character, then they probably are.

 

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The Demons Inside

 

Rating: R

(Language/ Violence/ Character death/ Implied rape)

 

Synopsis: Sometimes it's all about acknowledging mistakes and moving on. A John Stewart/ Shayera Hol story

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CHAPTER ONE

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And while I'm away

Dust out the demons inside

And it won't be long,

Before you and me run

To the place in our hearts

Where we hide. - (Elton John/Bernie Taupin/Davey Johnstone -  I Guess That's Why They Call It the Blues)

 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Phone calls at 2 A.M. generally don't bring good news. John Stewart had known that all of his life. So when the phone rang this time, awakening him from an uneasy slumber in his Detroit apartment, he wasn't surprised by the feeling of dread that came over him. He turned on the lamp on his night table, glancing at the framed photo of Mari.

 

It had been six days since her encounter with the Shadow Thief; four days since the omega-level alert to defeat Darksied and two days since she left for a photo shoot in Milan despite her wounds...and John's protest.

 

"Hello," he said, trying not to anticipate anything, but hoping it wasn't Mari calling to say they were finished as a couple. Her reaction to his telling her that he'd seen a future where he and Shayera had had a child surprised him. He had expected her to be happy with the news that he was staying with her despite what he'd seen. Surprisingly, she had not been happy with the news at all and had been decidedly cool toward him afterwards for reasons he could not understand.

 

"Hey, John, it's Mace." It was Rex Mason, Metamorpho, on the phone. The needle on John's comfort meter started rising because it wasn't Mari, but immediately fell again as he realized it must be bad news for Mace to call so late.

 

"Mace, what's up?"

 

"Hate to wake you, pal, but I figured you'd want to know as soon as I found out. Captain Robinson's daughter, Peggy, called. He passed away last night."

 

Stewart greeted the news with silence. Robinson had been one of his company officers when Stewart and Mason were in the Marine Corps together years ago. The much older Robinson, who had once been a war prisoner, had taken a liking to the young private and never missed an opportunity to impart a little "old school" wisdom to the lad or tell him of his experience as a prisoner of war.

 

"If you fight alone, you die alone," Stewart said.

 

"Huh?"

 

"Sorry. Just thinking about something the Captain once said to me a long time ago. When's the funeral?"

 

"Tomorrow," Mace answered. "No! Wait! It's this afternoon at 3 PM. I completely forgot that it's morning already. Yeah, it's this afternoon at the base chapel at Fort Lee outside of Gotham. Guess I'll see you there." He paused. "I'm sorry, John," he said, then he hung up.

 

"So am I," John said as he hung up the phone and stared mindlessly across the room. Robinson had said something else that Stewart never forgot. "You can't change your fate, Private. You can't erase your name from the bullet it's written on, but you can change your destiny by killing the gunman before he fires that round."

 

The old Captain had been right, Stewart reflected as he settled back down under the covers. John had made a career out of being aggressive, not accepting things as presented and always challenging assumptions. And yet after he saw a future where he and Shayera had a son, he momentarily did consider not challenging it and accepting what he saw. Then the Captain's words kicked in like a punch to the gut and it made him more determined than ever to stay with Mari - not so much out of love, but out of spite for a preordain destiny. A desire to kill the gunman, more or less, before he kills me.

 

He looked at the framed photo of Mari on his nightstand and before turning out the light, wondered for the first time if the Captain had given him bad advice.

 

 

 

 

The funeral earlier in the day for Captain Robinson had been brief and to the point. It was kind of like the man, John thought. He'd worn his Green Lantern garb, complete with the ceremonial cloak. Afterwards, the Captain's daughter, Peggy, mentioned that her father had been so proud of Stewart for being a Green Lantern.

 

"Thank you," John said. "He was a big influence in my life."

 

"He knew that," Peggy said as she pushed her grayish-blonde hair off her forehead. She was a cute, stocky woman about John's age and bore a striking resemblance to her father when she smiled. "He'd talk about you often. Whenever he'd see you on the news he'd often shout out to anyone in earshot that you two served together. Honestly? Sometimes it made me jealous." She laughed the easy laugh that reminded John of her father, paused and handed him a newspaper clipping. "Remember this?"

 

John recognized it immediately and nodded. It was a recounting of John stopping the runaway train that had barreled out of control into Gotham station. Rex Mason, before he became Metamorpho, had been on that train.

 

"Daddy was on that train. He always thought that you saved that train because he was on it. He figured that no matter what, you always managed to save your friends. But he was one of those taken to the hospital after the wreck, so he never got a chance to thank you, so I will say it for him. Thank you for saving my dad and considering him a friend."

 

John didn't have the heart to tell her that he didn't know Robinson or Mason were on the train. Instead, he smiled and just softly said, "Thank you for telling me and you're welcome." He paused. "I'm afraid I have to go. Please take care of yourself and again, I'm so sorry for your loss - - our loss."

 

As he turned to leave, there was a *click* in his ear and he said, "Go ahead."

 

"Batman here. I need your help. Now! Home in on my signal. Batman out!"

 

John frowned. There were times when Batman could be a great guy, although he couldn't recount many of them, and then there were time when he could make you hate him because of the way he treated friends and colleagues. This was one of those times. The curtness crap from Bats was aggravating. And at this moment, Stewart didn't need the irritation. He nodded to Mason before leaving and then once outside, leaped into the air and followed Batman's signal.

 

It was mid-evening in Gotham, the time of day when the city was its most beautiful --and its most dangerous. The planet Venus sparkled in the southwestern sky. John found Batman on a rooftop overlooking a busy street corner in Gotham. Where else would he be, but on a rooftop?

 

John landed behind the cowled figure and approached as quietly as he could on foot. Batman didn't move, but instead remained focused on the street corner below. As Stewart pulled abreast of him, Batman said without looking at him, "What kept you?"

 

John smirked. "Glad to see you, too. You said you needed my help. What's up?"

 

Batman gave him a tight-lipped frown and looked back to the street. "I wanted your help with that." He pointed to the stores across the street. "See the jewelry store?" he said. "There'll be an attempted robbery there in about ten minutes. I'm going in through the skylight. Need you to cover the back."

 

"What happened to your junior partners?" John knew that term irritated Bats.

 

"They're not available," Batman said not taking his eyes off the street below. He paused and then surprised John completely when he said, "So why'd you tell Shayera about Warhawk?"

 

John's jaw dropped and then he frowned. "What... the... hell? I have no idea where that came from and not that it's any of your business, but I thought she should know."

 

John didn't mention that once he'd told her of a future he wasn't going to work toward, he suddenly felt much better, as if a large weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The feeling was short-lived, however, once he told Mari in her hospital bed of that future. She hadn't taken it as well as he'd hoped and it was probably the reason he hadn't heard from her in the last two days she'd been gone.

 

"Did you know Shayera came to me and asked me to tell her about him?" Batman said, maintaining his gaze on the street below. There was clear annoyance in his voice as he continued, "When I told her to talk to you, she said she couldn't because you said you were going to stay with Vixen."

 

"Like I said, I thought she should know. I didn't think she'd come to you, but I thought she needed to know that I'm staying with Mari." John tried to show as much irritation as possible in his voice as he added, "Again, not your business!"

 

Batman shook his head in that ever so slight way he had. "Wrong Lantern! You made it my business when you couldn't keep the future you saw to yourself. Shayera didn't need to know anything about what you saw. She thinks you told her about her son just because you wanted to hurt her for hurting you during the invasion."

 

"Don't push it, Batman!" John snapped.

 

"No! Don't you push it! I don't know if you're trying to punish her for dating Hall or for hurting you during the invasion and I don't care." He paused half a beat before continuing. "You want to drive a spear through her heart, go ahead. But you will not make me the spear tip, Lantern! Is that understood?"

 

John stopped cold. This was a new thought. Did he really tell Shayera about Warhawk to hurt her after she dated Carter Hall? Until this moment he'd convinced himself that his intentions had been honorable in telling her he wasn't obligated to the future he saw. "Look, I didn't know she was going to come to you. And I had no ...."

 

He stopped.

 

On second thought, he didn't have to explain a damn thing to anyone, especially Batman. He'd told Shayera what she needed to hear and he felt better because he did. Shayera would live her life and he would live his and he didn't owe an explanation to anyone. Besides if she had a problem with what he said, she should have said something to him, not Bats.

 

Batman seemed to ignore him as he pointed to the store below. "The one I want just arrived. There are three inside now," he said. "His accomplices will run out the back of the store. Don't let them get away."

 

"After what you just said, do you really think I'm going to help you now?"

 

Batman didn't look at him. "I'm going in through the skylight on the roof. They'll let you know when I'm inside."

 

John watched as Batman shot a grappling hook across the street and swung toward the jewelry store without saying another word. John muttered to himself for a moment before taking off and landing in the alley behind the store. He'd been there only a few moments, when the noise and loud voices coming from inside the store let him know that Batman was inside.

 

Then there was gunfire.

 

Using his ring, John smashed the back door with a giant green mallet, knocking it off its hinges and inside the store. He stood in the doorway. It was dark inside and hard to make out the moving figures. He was about to ring a flashlight when one of the gangsters rushed toward him. He started to form a boxing glove with his ring to smack the thug when he heard Batman yell, "Lantern! Lookout!"

 

Dammit!

 

There was something in John's eyes. It must be the dust from knocking down the door. He blinked for a moment, then hit the thug with the boxing glove knocking him back into the store. He entered the building, grabbed the crook by his collar with a ringed pair of green pliers and dragged the unconscious man to the center of the store where Batman had two criminals stacked in a pile near a jewelry display case.

 

"Here's your third man," John snapped. "Now, I've had a long and a very bad day. But the next time one of your junior partners has a date or needs to stay home to study for their junior high school math tests, don't hesitate to call me." He threw his man on top of the other two and added, as sarcastically as possible, "On second thought, do hesitate!"

 

Batman frowned another one of those frowns and stared at him in silence.

 

John returned the glare, then spun around and leaped in the air.

 

"Lantern! Wait! Hold on!" he heard Batman call out behind him. It sounded like a plea.

 

Tough!

 

"Go to hell!" John snapped. He turned and headed for the Metrotower.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

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CHAPTER TWO

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Stewart sat down on the sofa next to Wally who had his feet propped up on the coffee table and nervously fingered the remote control for the TV. "All I'm saying," Wally said, "is that who she dates is not our business. We don't get to approve her friends."

 

John couldn't remember how the conversation had drifted to Shayera's dating of Hall, but it had. All he knew was that the subject depressed him and Batman's comments earlier in the night didn't do much to make him feel better.

 

Stewart shook his head. "I'm not talking about approving anybody. I don't care who she dates."

 

Wally looked up and smirked. "Dang, dude. You just spoke two sentences and I know at least one of them was an out and out lie."

 

Stewart was silent.

 

"Look GL," Wally said. "None of us want to see her get hurt. But maybe it's time for her to step out and mingle...you know, build a life for herself ...you know...without your presence." Stewart threw Wally a sharp glare which Wally ignored. It was then that John wondered if Wally also knew about his conversation with Shayera after the defeat of the Shadow Thief.

 

"I mean," Wally continued, "she can't stay locked up in the Watchtower or the Metrotower all the time. And we can't, nor should we be her only friends. I mean all of us, except her, you know, socialize outside of work. She doesn't and even I know that's just not healthy."

 

Stewart took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Maybe I ought to pay him a visit at his museum."

 

Wally coughed. "Who? Hall?"

 

Stewart said nothing and Wally shook his head, "Man, I can't begin to tell you how bad an idea that is. What are you going to tell him? Keep his hands to himself and have her home by ten?"

 

"No!" Stewart pursed his lips together into a tight line as he folded his arms across his chest. "Hell, I don't know." His frown deepened.

 

Wally smirked. "See, that's the problem. Tell you what, why don't you have Vixen tell him or did you forget about her?"

 

"I didn't forget about Mari," Stewart snapped back, perhaps too quickly he thought in hindsight. He lowered his head and sighed. "It's just that," he paused recalling the sad memory, "on the day Shayera killed Grundy, there were a lot of people in the crowd who were still angry and cursing at her for the invasion. You weren't there, but I was. She is still the invasion to a lot of people."

 

"She'll always be the invasion, GL, just like people will never forget that Superman went rogue once despite all the good he's done since or that our counterparts killed the President of the United States in another dimension." Wally stood and walked over to the shelf next to the DVD player. He carefully examined the pile of DVDs there. He turned back to John and said, "Remember what you said after we defeated the Secret Society?"

 

As Stewart struggled to recall his words, he wondered if in fact he wasn't being too concerned about Shayera's boyfriend, even if she didn't call him that. Damn Batman for putting that thought in his head. After all, he'd told Shayera he was staying with Mari because she needed to know, didn't she? They were just friends now, right? He had no hold on her and no right to interfere. He didn't tell her about Warhawk to keep her from dating Hall or to pay her back for hurting him during the invasion and yet....

 

It all boiled down to Warhawk. The very existence of Warhawk was the problem, wasn't it?

 

"Sixty-five is the new thirty."

 

Those words had bothered Stewart since he first heard Static say them during his trip fifty years into future. Yes, sixty-five could be the new thirty and maybe that meant fifty was the new twenty.

 

The man who'd introduced himself as Warhawk and Rex Stewart looked to be in his early thirties, late twenties. Was it possible that he was older than that and just looked younger. Maybe he was forty.

 

Then Stewart froze. Maybe Warhawk was even fifty when John met him. After all, because of his encounter with the Shadow Thief he knew that Shayera was older than she looked. Maybe Rex Stewart had her genes for youthful appearance.

 

What if Warhawk was fifty? That meant he was conceived....

 

He didn't complete the thought as he shook his head at Wally indicating he didn't remember what he'd said after the defeat of the Secret Society.

 

If Wally saw confusion in Stewart's face, he didn't show it as he continued, "You said, 'All we can do is say we're sorry and move on.' That all she can do, John. That's all any of us can do. We acknowledge our errors and hope we don't repeat them. We make peace with ourselves and live our lives trying to grab all the happiness we can."

 

Stewart's jaw dropped and Wally grinned. "Don't look at me like I have three eyes. You said it, not me." He selected a disc from the stack on the shelf. "Hey, I see we got some new DVD's up here. Want to see this one?"

 

"What is it?" Stewart asked.

 

"Vanilla Sky."

 

Stewart stood up. "No. I'm sure it's a good movie and all, but..." He headed for the door without finishing his thought. He had to call Mari.

 

John didn't see Shayera walk in and he literally bumped into her, almost knocking her over as he was approaching the door. She growled for a moment, then surprisingly smiled. "Hey," she said softly.

 

"Hi," he answered. He rubbed the back of neck with his ring hand and stopped as he became aware of the nervous gesture.

 

"I have watch later tonight," she said. "Thought I'd come in here and watch some TV before I went on. What are you guys doing?"

 

"About to watch the 2001 movie, Vanilla Sky," Flash volunteered.

 

A wisp of a smile across her face. "Oh, that's the movie Carter gave me. I thought it was pretty good." She paused and turned to John, "Were you leaving? I mean you weren't leaving, were you?"

 

Stewart shrugged a small smile. "Actually I was. Why? Did you have something?"

 

She seemed a little taken back by his question. She cleared her throat and scratched her left ear. "No. I liked the movie and thought...well, maybe...we'd...I'd watch it with you...with you both."

 

Wally glanced at Stewart, then back to Shayera. "With us? You never socialize with us! At least, not recently." He zipped up to her. "Who are you and what have you done with the real Shayera?"

 

She suddenly looked uncomfortable and her tone changed sharply. "Look, I just thought I would spend some time with my friends, but if this is a bad idea or you two want some more male bonding time just say so." She turned and headed for the door.

 

Wally raced to the door blocking her exit. He grinned. "Just kidding. It's a great idea. It'll be like old times, well, almost like old times. I'll get the popcorn. How long is the movie?"

 

"About an hour and a half," she answered. She looked at Stewart. "What about you, John? Are you going to watch the movie?"

 

Stewart tried to smile, but failed miserably as he moved back into the room and sat down at the far end of the sofa. "Sure. It will be like old times, like Wally said." Wally raised an eyebrow at Stewart and said, "Great! I'll be right back." He then quickly grinned at Shayera and then zipped down to the kitchen to get the popcorn.

 

Shayera turned around and stared at Stewart before sitting down at the other end of the sofa. They were both silent, staring straight ahead, purposefully not looking at each other, like two twelve year olds at their first coed dance. No, Wally was wrong, Stewart reflected. It wasn't like old times, it was worse.

 

In the old days John and Shayera always found something to talk about. But, after her return to the League, it was a struggle to have a conversation with her that didn't degrade into her reminding him he was involved with Vixen. It seemed to him that she was using Mari to ensure he kept his distance.

 

John sighed as he reflected that Batman must have been out of his mind. He hadn't hurt Shayera by saying he was staying with Mari. After all, she'd showed no signs of being still interested in him after she returned. Besides, he reminded himself, all he'd done was just tell her why he had been so distance around her lately. But if that was all there was to it, why was he still trying to convince himself he'd done the right thing?

 

Finally, Stewart said absently, "Wonder what's taking Wally so long with the popcorn?"

 

She smirked, "Well it does take two or three minutes to pop, you know." John flashed a faint smile and then frowned. She shrugged and looked straight ahead again. John sighed loudly and said, "Let me ask you something. You've seen this movie before, right?"

 

She nodded.

 

"Why," he continued, "do we sit through a movie when we know how it's going to end? I mean suppose you were one of the characters in a movie and you thought you knew how the movie would end. Would you continue to say your lines, continue acting as if you were unaware of what the future held for you? I mean knowing that things may not turn out the way you want them to...knowing that you may not get what you want."

 

Her eyes narrowed. He wished at that moment that she still wore her mask. It was better not seeing the hint of anger so plain in her face. "This isn't about Vanilla Sky, is it?" she said. "What are you trying to say?"

 

Dammit! He knew what he wanted to say; what he was trying to say, but he realized he'd totally screwed it up.

 

Wally zipped back into the room carrying a large bowl of freshly popped popcorn. He smiled as he set the bowl down on the table. "Here we go, hot popcorn. I'll set this down and start the ...." He rapidly scanned the room, apparently noting the silence and Shayera's and Stewart's dour faces. He sighed loudly. "Man, you two are worse than two year olds. I swear I can't leave you two alone for two point five minutes. What did I miss?"

 

Stewart shook his head as he stood up. "You didn't miss anything, hotshot. I think you're right on time." He looked at Shayera. "I guess I'm saying I'm tired. Look, enjoy the movie. I think I'm going to go home. Tell Hall I said thanks for the movie. I'll make a point of seeing it again the next time I have duty."

 

Stewart headed for the exit, but stopped when he heard her call out, "Go ahead." He turned around and saw her standing with a finger pressed to her ear. She was silent as she listened.

 

"Got it," she said. "I'm on my way." Then looking at Wally she said, "Got to go. Duty calls."

 

Stewart stood next to the door and before allowing her to pass said softly, "Be careful out there, okay?"

 

She looked puzzled as she answered, "Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself."

 

"I know you can take of yourself," he said softly as he stepped aside to allow her to pass. And then for reasons he wasn't sure he understood, he added after she was out of earshot, "But it doesn't mean you shouldn't be careful."

 

 

 

 

Shayera worked hard to suppress a smile that wanted to break into an outright laugh. For the last hour or two, Rex Mason, also known as Metamorpho, had regaled her with stories about his days with John while they both were in the Marine Corps. He'd also told her about John's friendship with his recently deceased former company officer, Captain Robinson.

 

She'd always enjoyed Rex's stories. They'd worked together a couple of times since she'd rejoined the league, but this was the first time they'd gone on a deep space mission together.

 

Now, forty-eight hours later, as they returned from completing their assignment, she enjoyed hearing tales of this side of John, a side he didn't show often enough to the rest of the world. She leaned back and listened to Rex spin his yarn.

 

"Yeah," Rex said. "Old Captain Robinson was really fond of John and John took everything the old man said to heart. One time the Captain asked John if he knew the difference between loving someone and being in love with someone."

 

"What did John say?"

 

"He said, 'Not sure, sir.' Well the old Captain threw his hands in the air like he was trying to pull God down from the heavens to ask him what was wrong with the man. The Captain then frowned at John and said, 'Lad, I love my dog, but if she ever bites me I will shoot her in a heartbeat. But I'm in love with my wife. If she bites me I'm pretty sure I won't shoot her.' Then he smiles and says, 'At least, not without thinking about it for five or ten minutes.'"

 

Shayera eyes widened and she smiled slightly. "Well, I guess that explains everything about John I need to know, doesn't it?"

 

Rex grinned and gently shook his head. "I don't expect you to fully get the joke. It's just a little Marine humor. All I'm saying is that John's complicated, but at least you know where part of it came from." He looked back at her from the pilot's chair and asked, "Hey, you want to fly for a while?"

 

Shayera shook her head. "No, you need the flight hours."

 

Rex continued to look forward, adjusting the flight control knobs. "Well, I know you prefer to be up front in the pilot's chair with your phobia and all. I was just asking."

 

Shayera bristled. "What do you mean my phobia and all? I don't have any phobias."

 

"Hey, I'm sorry," Rex offered. "Maybe my intel was faulty. I was told to make sure you always had a view out of a window because of your claustrophobia."

 

"And who told you that?"

 

"The guy I've been talking about for the last two hours. He told me last week, if I ever work with you to make sure you either piloted or had a window, preferably on the left."

 

"John said that last week? Why?"

 

Rex shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know. You know how them ring jockeys are sometimes --real control freaks. You know, makes me wonder what would happen if they suddenly went renegade like Superman did."

 

Shayera nodded silently, not admitting that she'd wondered the same thing more than once over the last couple of years.

 

"Anyway, I don't think his comment was specific to this assignment, but the man does seem to know a lot about you. I wonder if he -  " Rex stopped. So did the Javelin as it violently shook and dropped to sub-light speed, then stopped.

 

His jaw dropped as his eyes were fixed on the starboard side of the ship. Within the space of a heartbeat, Shayera screamed, "Open fire and get us out of here."

 

Rex exclaimed, "Great Mother of God! Do you see how big they are?"

 

As Shayera leaped to the front of the ship and punched the buttons initiating the automatic defensive systems she yelled again, "I said open fire! Now!"

 

 

 

 

"What happened?" John bellowed as he pushed past the Watchtower teleporter attendant to get to Mister Terrific. He stood near the transporter pads frowning, but meeting John's angry glare.

 

"Lantern, calm down," he answered. "I don't have the full debrief yet, but apparently twenty-two hours ago they stopped and boarded the Javelin and took her. Then they destroyed the long-range communications array and damaged the hyperdrive on the ship so that Metamorpho couldn't call for help. He did a commendable job getting the ship back to our solar system where we could pick up his distress call."

 

"Calm down?" John roared. He pointed his finger in Terrific's face. "How in the hell am I supposed to calm down. This is your fault. How could you let this happen? Why the hell would anybody send Shayera on a deep space mission in the first place, knowing the danger she could be in? You're the damn smart one! Don't tell me you didn't know there was still trouble out there for her? She trusted you -  I trusted you, dammit!"

 

Mister Terrific looked down at the finger and then slowly into John's eyes. "She saw nothing wrong with going and I didn't see a reason not to send her. It was a routine mission. She had the lead and Metamorpho was support. There was no risk of any Thanagarians being out there."

 

Just as John was about to call Terrific a liar, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to stare into the sad face of the Martian. What was he doing here?

 

As if in answer to John's unspoken question, J'onn said, "Mister Terrific called me, Lantern. The mission appeared safe, I assure you."

 

John didn't attempt to disguise the rage in his voice as he turned back to Terrific. "Well it wasn't safe, was it? The Thanagarians are scattered everywhere, now that Thanagar has fallen and she has a price on her head. Damn you, man!! What were you thinking? You didn't think the Thanagarians would be lurking out there to kill her for her betrayal."

 

J'onn shook his head. "Lantern, it wasn't the Thanagarians that took her. It was the Gordanians."

 

John's jaw dropped.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

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CHAPTER THREE

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As she moved to sit up, Shayera noticed two things. First her head hurt. At least that meant she was still alive, didn't it? It was a throbbing ache that made Hol rub both of her temples with her fingertips in a circular motion trying to make the pain go away.

 

It wouldn't go leave.

 

It was the same pain she had when she and John were gassed on that ship as they were looking for Superman and J'onn.

 

J'onn!

 

She remembered that J'onn had been able to find John over half a galaxy away when he'd been taken by the Manhunters to stand trial for the destruction of Alturis Four. But J'onn couldn't gently read her mind the way he could the others. But he'd told her that he could hear her when she was trapped in Doctor Destiny's dream. So, maybe that meant she could reach him if she concentrated hard enough. Yes that was it. She'd have to try to mentally call out to him.

 

Secondly, she was naked and cold. She frowned. This did not portend good things. She took in her surroundings. It was a large room with a single bright light overhead and silver colored metallic walls. The flooring, except for the six foot square patch she was laying on, was metal grating. There were no tables, chairs or anything of note in the room -  except for two Gordanian guards standing next to the door. There was a blue smock similar to an Earth hospital gown on the floor next to her.

 

This would be a standard Gordanian induction procedure for prisoners of war. But isn't the war over? Her yellow and black costume lay in shreds at her feet. Had they cut her clothing off? She looked down quickly and didn't see any cuts or marks on her. Her frown deepened.

 

There was a steady hum in the room. Was she on a spacecraft? Is that the noise she heard? Engines? If so, the floor should be vibrating. She placed both palms down on the floor, then on the metal grating. Yes! Vibrations! She was on a ship.

 

One of the guards approached and using his laser stick toss the blue smock in her face. The smell of the Gordanians sickened her. She mentally fought to ignore the odor and concentrated on remembering her training and her conversations with Hro: First isolation, interrogation then death or slave labor.

 

She reached for the smock and immediately felt pain in her upper back and shoulders. Her wings! She couldn't spread her wings. She looked down behind her and saw that her wings had been banded together in a device similar to that used by Doctor Destiny in that dream... in that nightmare. It was a known restraint device used by the Gordanians against Thanagarians prisoners. She remembered telling John that it was so effective that the Thanagarians copied it and used it against their own when the need arose.

 

She managed to get the smock on despite every muscle in her shoulders screaming for relief. As she stood up, one guard opened the door and stood in the hallway. The other guard, who had a massive scar on his chest, shoved her forward and out the door. She started thinking of words she could utter or think to help J'onn locate her.

 

If they were looking for her.

 

Suddenly she had her doubts. What if they weren't looking for her? Maybe they were happy that the Gordanians had apparently solved the Shayera Hol question for the League...for John. After all, with her gone, John would be free to have the future he wanted without fearing she'd complicate it by being around. But still....

 

John would look for her, wouldn't he? After all, he did go look for Katma when she was missing on Kalidor. Certainly, he'd come after her as well. Yes, John would and maybe even J'onn. Yeah, she'd have to believe that. But until she physically saw one of them again, she'd have to take her destiny into her own hands. She wasn't going to wait for someone to rescue her. She'd have to rescue herself.

 

As she started walking in the direction the Gordanians pushed and prodded her to walk, she started concentrating: J'onn. Here. J'onn. Here!

 

 

 

 

Rex Mason lay in the infirmary. His eyes were closed, but he was wide-awake. He hated the infirmary as much as any Leaguer and he felt especially bad being here now. Mr. Terrific had insisted that the medical staff check him over. Yes, he was physically okay, but he would never get over the look he saw in Shayera's face when the Gordanians boarded the Javelin. It was a look he would carry to his grave.

 

"Are you okay?"

 

Mason opened his eyes. It was John. His expression was flat. Mason matched it.

 

"I'm fine, mad as hell, but I'm fine. When are we going after her?"

 

John shook his head. "Mace, you're not going anywhere. You need to rest. I'm leaving after I talk to J'onn again. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Can you tell me what happened?"

 

Mason closed his eyes. "We were on our way back from Alteran Six. It was a routine mission to hand over an escaped criminal named Garbin back to the local authorities. It was easy. It was on the way back that we ran into problems. Suddenly, the ship dropped out of hyper-space down to sub-light and stopped. Then this group of ships, maybe six of them, really big ships, were on top of us. John, I swear I never saw them on the scanner. They just appeared out of nowhere."

 

Mason shook his head. "As soon as she saw the ships, Shayera started cussing. Maybe she was speaking her native language, I couldn't tell. But I can tell you this, John, she didn't like it."

 

Mason hung his head. "They must have done a bio-scan on the ship. Before we knew what to do next, three, maybe four of these lizard-like guys materialized behind us on board the Javelin, pointed these stick-like weapons at us and fired. Shayera deflected some of the laser fire with her mace and I know I killed one, but I guess I got hit by some laser fire or some sort of neutralizer. I don't remember a thing after being hit except coming to and Shayera and the ships were gone and I was alone."

 

"They left her mace, John," he said pointing to a chair in a corner of the room. "All they left was her mace."

 

John slowly walked over to the chair and picked up the mace, keeping his back to Mason. Rex didn't have to be a telepath to sense the overwhelming sadness in John as he held the weapon in his hand. John cleared his throat and then turned to face Mason again, holding the weapon at his side.

 

Mason gritted his teeth and took a deep breath, exhaling loudly before continuing. "They destroyed the long range communications system and the primary hyper drive system on the Javelin. I was lucky they didn't take out life support or the secondary systems. I immediately headed back here as soon as I could on the auxiliary systems." 

 

Mason raised his head, looking John in the eyes. "John, I wish there was something I could have done. I've gone over and over in my head what else I could have done...should have done differently." He paused. "Man, I'm sorry...I'm so goddamn sorry. I know how close you were...are."

 

John nodded. "I'm sure you did all you could. It's okay, Mace, I'll find her."

 

Mason got out of the bed and stood. "We'll find her!"

 

John frowned and shook his head. "You're not up to this, man." He cleared his throat. "You stay here!"

 

Mason matched John's frown. "Wrong answer, bud. We'll find her and we'll bring her back because I am going with you. This was also my mission. Two Leaguers went out and the mission's not finished until two Leaguers come back. We never leave a man behind, right? We didn't do in the Marines and we don't do it in the Justice League."

 

John looked at Mason hard for a moment, saying nothing. A tight lipped smile came across his face. "Okay then. Let's see J'onn."

 

 

 

 

The Gordanian guard pushed Shayera into a cell. Because of the band on her wings, she lost her balance and hit the floor hard with a thud. As the cell door closed behind her, she felt a couple of hands on her shoulders. She looked up into the faces of three women -- three unmasked Thanagarians in smocks like hers. None of the women smiled at her.

 

Hol looked around the room. There were four beds in the cell pushed against the wall. Each bed had a mattress, small pillow and a blanket. There was a toilet and a washbasin in a corner of the cell. The door of the cell was solid metal with a sliding viewport about six feet off the deck. There was a single low wattage light in the ceiling. She looked back at the women. The smallest one had long black hair; the other two had short red hair. All were thin.

 

The small black-haired woman pointed to one of the beds and said, "That one is yours." Hol stood up shakily and walked to the designated bed. The three women followed and clustered around her as she sat down. Hol, looking up into the group of unsmiling faces said to the small black haired woman, "Thanks. My name is Shayera Hol and you are?"

 

"Ces. Corporal Nurita Ces and that's Sergeant Kyr Rac." Pointing to the taller of the two red-haired women she added, "That's Mayeca Wor. She's a civilian nurse. They were captured on Omega Nine...maybe six weeks ago. I was taken on Gamma Four, maybe two or three days earlier. It's hard to tell time here. How about you?"

 

"Corporal, shut up! You talk too much," the one called Rac yelled. Then she looked at Hol. "I'm in charge here and I'll ask the questions."

 

Hol's eyes widened, then she nodded in understanding. "You just used your military rank," Hol said. "I thought the war was over. That begs the question, where are we?"

 

"You aren't paying attention, are you? I said I'll ask the questions," Rac growled. "I've seen you somewhere before. What unit are you with?"

 

Hol cleared her throat. "I'm not in the military. A friend and I were on our way back from Alteran Six when they board my ship and took me off." And for the first time since she regained consciousness, she realized she hadn't been as concerned about Rex's fate as perhaps she should have been. She hoped he was okay.

 

"On your way back to where?" Rac asked, her eyes narrowing.

 

Hol lowered her head. "A small planet called Terra." She paused. "Earth."

 

J'onn. Here. J'onn. Here.

 

"Terra? I was once garrisoned on a planet called Terra before the war ended." Rac paused, looking hard at Hol. It was clear she was trying figure out where she'd seen Hol before.

 

Hol took a deep breath, knowing this was not going to end well. "I don't recall meeting you. Are we on a prison ship?"

 

"We're prisoners," Ces answered. "That's the only thing we know for sure. I personally think it's a Gordanian pleasure ship and ... we're supposed to be the pleasure. We have other task during the day and then one of us each night gets selected for ... gets selected to be used."

 

Hol's eyes narrowed. "Used?"

 

Rac suddenly growled at Hol. "I know where I know you from you. I saw your poster on my ship as the fleet was retreating." Rac turned and looked at the other women and pointed back at Hol, "Meet Lieutenant Shayera Hol, the traitor of Thanagar. She's the one that prevented the last link of the bypass from being built on that worthless little crap hole of a planet. Take a good look at her. She's the reason we're here."

 

"Wait a minute," Hol said as she started to stand. "That planet had people on it and the bypass would have- -" 

 

Rac slapped Hol in the face -- hard cutting her off and knocking her back down on the bed.

 

Rac's voice trembled. "Every third night for six weeks I've been somebody's whore because you thought more about those people than you did about your own kind. Well now, there's finally some justice. You're the fresh meat here. They'll come for you tonight and they'll hurt you. And you'll fight them and they'll hurt you more... a lot more just to hear you cry out. But they won't kill you no matter how much you want to die. And when they finish with you, they'll throw you in a sonic shower, but that won't wash the stench of them off you. Then they'll toss you back in here and you'll want to vomit from the smell of them, but you'll find you can't. Then they'll come back for you in a couple of days and they'll do it all over again. Yeah, Lieutenant, you're going to pay starting tonight."

 

Hol sat up, glared at Rac as she rubbed the side of her face where the woman had slapped her. Ces stepped next to Hol and looked down at her, "Is what she said true? Are you an officer? Are you a traitor?"

 

"I did what I thought was right," Hol answered as she stood up looking Ces in the eyes. "I was an officer, but I was stripped of my rank and exiled." 

 

Wor, who had been standing silently, turned, walked away and sat down on another bed as she said, "Stripped of your rank and exiled, huh? I guess some of you officer types would consider that a fair exchange. But tell you what Lieutenant; you tell me in the morning, if you can talk, if you still think it was a fair trade."

 

 

 

 

He'd been in this conference room so many times in the past, John had lost count. Recently, that is, until he told her about staying with Mari, Shayera had made a point of sitting next to him during the meetings and he liked that. It was almost like old times. And although he didn't want to admit it, he liked it when she would come into the room, look at him, smile, then sit down next to him.

 

As he sat down, he glanced to where Shayera would have sat if she were there. Mason, who had accompanied him into the conference room, apparently misinterpreted that glance as a signal as to where he should sit. Stewart said nothing as Mason sat down next to him.

 

Stewart placed Shayera's mace on the table and it made a disturbing, heavy metallic sound. She'd brandished the weapon so easily that he often forgot how heavy it actually was. He frowned. He was impatient and didn't care who knew it.

 

"The others should be here within the hour," J'onn said apparently reading John's mind.

 

John's response was sharp and quick. "I'm not waiting! They already have at least a twenty hour head start. Can you sense where she might be? Are you picking up anything?" John asked. It was more of a plea than a question.

 

The Martian sadly shook his head. "I sense nothing. But that might mean that she's unconscious, not dead. She might be too far away for me to sense anything."

 

John stood up quickly and leaned over the table. "She's not dead," he stated emphatically as he slammed Shayera's mace on the table. "She cannot be dead!" He took a deep breath and met J'onn's eyes. "You ready to go?"

 

J'onn folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. He lowered his head not making eye contact with John. "We should still wait for the others."

 

"Listen, I just told you I'm not waiting. I need you to go because you can sense her presence and help me find her quicker. But I'll do it by myself if I have to." John didn't say anything else.

 

There was a momentary silence, before the Martian stood up and looked at John. "You don't have to go by yourself. I'll go with you. Meet you in five minutes in the launch bay." J'onn walked to the conference room door.

 

"J'onn!" Stewart called out.

 

"Yes, Lantern, you are welcome," the Martian responded.

 

"I know." John said. He lowered his head and softly repeated, "Thanks."

 

J'onn gave a half-hearted smile and walked through the conference room door.

 

Mason turned to John. "For a minute there, I didn't think he was going to go."

 

"I never thought he wouldn't," John answered.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

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CHAPTER FOUR

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Mayeca Wor lay in her bunk facing the center of the cell. Her eyes were closed, but she wasn't asleep. It had been four; maybe five hours since the guards took the Lieutenant out of the cell. The Lieutenant had kicked and punched the guards as they dragged her out of the bed and pushed her toward the cell door. Finally, one of the guards muttered some curse about fighting fate and zapped the Lieutenant with his laser stick and dragged the stunned woman out of the cell.

 

Wor thought about helping the Lieutenant, but decided it wouldn't have done any good and it would have only served to make the guards angry at her. She couldn't bring herself to think about what was happening to the Lieutenant right now. It had happened to her. It had happened to all of them when they first arrived. The only thing the arrival of the Lieutenant did was ensure they all got an extra day before it was their turn again. Still, no matter what the Lieutenant had done, no one deserved this -- not even her.

 

Wor didn't move when she heard the cell door open and what she assumed to be the Lieutenant hitting the floor with a soft *thud*. When she heard the cell door *click* close, she opened her eyes. The Lieutenant lay in the middle of the floor, curled in a fetal position, shaking, sniffling. Her smock lay next to her. None of the other women in the cell moved toward her.

 

"Shut up, traitor," Sergeant Rac called out from her bunk. "No one feels sorry for you."

 

After a few minutes the sniffling stopped, replaced by silence. In the dim light, Wor could see the Lieutenant crawling toward her bunk. Wor got out of her bed and gently placed her arms around the Lieutenant to help her. The Lieutenant didn't seem to recognize her and flailed her arms in the air as if trying to fight Wor off with her fists.

 

"It's alright, Lieutenant," Wor said softly. "It's alright. I've got you. Let me help you."

 

The Lieutenant looked at Wor with a blank stare and said nothing. As a nurse, Wor had seen that vacant shell-shocked look before. It still bothered her.

 

Wor helped the woman to the bed. Suddenly, the Lieutenant pointed toward the toilet and started making retching noises as if she were going to throw up. Wor shook her head, but helped the woman to the toilet, helped her kneel down and position her head over the commode; and then watched as the woman struggled to succumb to the nausea she felt.

 

Wor watched and waited patiently while the Lieutenant slowly discovered what the others had discovered early in their captivity. There would be no moral victory by vomiting away the experience... not now, not ever. Dry heaves would be the only result of this night. Then after tonight -- nothing.

 

After a few minutes, the Lieutenant, her eyes red, her body still shaking, silently looked up at her. Wor nodded and helped her stand and move back to her bed. Once in bed, the Lieutenant curled into a ball with her back to the center of the cell. Wor covered her with the blanket and picked the smock up off the floor and placed it at the foot of the bed.

 

Wor lowered her head and walked back to her own bunk avoiding the angry stare of Sergeant Rac.

 

The room was silent except for halting, whimpering sounds occasionally coming from the Lieutenant. Wor thought it sounded like she was calling for someone named Bon Smear. Maybe that person was one of the Lieutenant's parents, she thought.

 

"Just think traitor," Rac called out again. "This wouldn't be happening to you ... to any of us if you hadn't stopped the bypass. Hope you remember that every time they come for you. You've made a tsat-thoth-na out of every living Thanagarian."

 

"Shut up, Sergeant!" Wor answered as the Lieutenant's call for Bon Smear stopped.

 

 

 

 

Mason and J'onn stood in the launch bay next to the damaged Javelin. John had gone inside the ship to download coordinates from the ship's navigational system to his ring. After waiting with J'onn for a few moments, Mason decided to enter the ship and look for John.

 

He came across John seated in the pilot's chair. He was talking to another Green Lantern via what looked to be a holographic projection. The Lantern, in the projection, was female and very pretty. She had blue skin, blonde hair and dark eyes. Mason could make out just parts of the conversation.

 

"... you sure about this John?" the female Lantern asked.

 

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life. Can I depend on you? I need to know I count on you." John replied.

 

"You can... John, seems you have company behind you," the woman said pointing over John's shoulder.

 

John turned around and grimaced when he saw Mason who smiled back weakly at the image when he realized he'd been seen. John turned back to the projection.

 

"You can depend on me, John. I have the coordinates. Green Lantern out," the blue woman said as she terminated the transmission.

 

As John walked past Mason he said, "Just getting a little insurance."

 

 

 

 

Kyr Rac watched as the guards entered the cell and set four food trays in the center of the floor. As soon as the guards left, she, Wor and Ces each grabbed a tray and returned to their beds and started eating. Rac looked at the traitor who was still in bed. She'd been silent for the last couple of hours, but Rac was certain she wasn't asleep. Secretly, she was glad the lizards didn't kill the traitor. That was a pleasure she wanted to reserve for herself.

 

"Hey, traitor. Waiting for somebody to feed you?" Rac hollered. "You'd better get up before they take the food away. You only get fed once a day here. And they might come back for you again tonight. So eat up, so no one has to take your turn."

 

"Sergeant! Back off," Wor said as she walked over to the traitor's bed. She tapped the side of the bed and called softly, "Lieutenant? Lieutenant, can you sit up?" The traitor cleared her throat and slowly turn over so that she looked into Wor's eyes. Wor, who had been a nurse and had probably seen it all, gasped. So did Rac.

 

The woman had large bruises on her upper body. Wor gently placed her hand on the woman's shoulder and helped the traitor sit up. She handed her the smock at the foot of the bed.

 

Wor looked at Rac and then turned and spoke softly to the traitor. "Look. Part of what Sergeant Rac said is true. This is your only meal and they will be back soon to get the trays. I know you don't want to, but you've got to eat. I know you don't think you can hold anything down, but you got to try, otherwise you won't survive."

 

At first, the traitor stared vacantly at Wor and parroted softly, "Survive." Then as if she'd switched on a light, the stare suddenly became focused and the traitor said firmly, "Yes...survive...I must survive."

 

Wor nodded at the woman, who now seemed to be listening intently, "If they come back for you, and they might, I will take your turn." Wor glared at Rac as she added, "Just like Corporal Ces did for me after my first time."

 

Rac watched as Ces picked up the tray from the center of the floor and brought the tray of food over to the traitor's bed.

 

Rac exploded. "Why are you two being nice to this sosi'hab? Don't you know she's the reason we're here? She's the one who belongs here, not us. Let her get what's coming to her! Don't help her!"

 

The traitor looked at Rac as Wor helped her get the smock on. She spoke softly. "You're entitled to hate me and even want to kill me. Over the last couple of years, there were times when I wished someone had killed me because of all of the pain I know I caused." She brought her fingers to her lips, then rubbed her throat. Her voice was firm as she said, "You want to kill me? The line forms to the right."

 

Then the traitor pointed her finger at Rac. "I don't have a commission any more. I'm not an officer. You're the senior military here. What are you going to do to get us out of here?"

 

"What am I going to do?" Rac shouted. "This isn't about me. This is about you. You can't play your fancy officer games with me. My family is dead because of you! Dead! The only thing that stops me from killing you now is that you give me an extra day of rest every day you're alive."

 

The traitor stood up gingerly and shuffled slowly toward Rac. "You're the senior military here," she repeated. "And we're prisoners of war. You're in charge. Stop being a bully and start acting like a leader! You can start by assigning me the task of getting us out of here. And when we get out of here and we will, I will move you to the front of the 'kill the traitor' line if you still want it."

 

Rac rolled her eyes at the woman. "You are absolutely unbelievable. Don't you get it, traitor? There is no real military. There's just the resistance left and it's crumbling fast. We lost the war because of you." Rac paused and smirked. "Okay, Lieutenant," she said sarcastically. "You want to play games. I'll play games with you. You're in charge of getting us out of here. What's your plan?"

 

The traitor moved slowly back to her bed and sat down. She groaned loudly as she did. She took a deep breath, slowly exhaling. Her voice was soft. "A couple of things," she said. "I'm going to teach you all two Earth words I want you to say and think all the time. Second, if they come again for me tonight, I will go. No one will take my place. Finally, we call each other by our first or last names... no more using rank. We are all equal here and we only get out of here only if we all work together. If you fight alone, you die alone."

 

The traitor's eyes narrowed as she said, "I going to try to eat now in case it's my turn tonight, but whose turn is it, if not mine?"

 

"Mine," Wor nodded. "Should be mine, but if they come for you again, I will somehow get them to take me."

 

"How do you know when it's your turn?" the traitor asked as she put her tray in her lap and started to eat. She didn't look at the food; she just shoveled it in her mouth quickly.

 

"See how the beds are arranged?" Wor said. "They start at one end of the room and simply go around the room. You were bed number two. I'm in bed three. So they'll come to bed three tonight -  if they don't come back for you."

 

The traitor was quiet, then slowly looked around the cell at the three women. She cleared her throat before continuing. "I see. So last night was really your turn, but you all arranged it so they would come for me, instead."

 

She looked at Corporal Ces. "It was you who pointed out the bed for me to sleep in. I thought you were being helpful, being kind, but I see I was just being... initiated. I was taking Wor's turn. It didn't matter whether I was a traitor or the Princess of Themyscira, I was going to take someone's turn last night, wasn't I?"

 

The traitor was silent again, then sighed loudly. "I trusted you and you all betrayed me to them." She lowered her head and added softly. "How appropriate is that?"

 

The room was silent again. Suddenly, the traitor started to laugh. It started out as a soft giggle and then became a loud cackle. Rac stepped back. She didn't like the traitor's laugh. It almost sounded evil, too evil even for a traitor

 

"So they don't really know us then," the traitor said. Her laughter subsided. "They just take whoever is in a certain bed." The traitor smirked as she added after a pause. "Good. Very good."

 

"Good? What do you mean good? There's not a damn thing 'good' about this," Rac shouted. She didn't regret letting the Gordanians have the traitor last night --- not one regret at all.

 

"Yes there is," the traitor answered. "First of all, you're all were observant enough to notice the pattern. That's good. Second of all, they apparently don't know that you're watching them otherwise they would have changed their routine. That's very good. Third, they're predictable and don't fear us and that's a mistake they will regret."

 

The traitor set the tray in her lap on the bed, slowly stood up and stretched. She looked down at the bruises on her arms and legs. Then she sat back down on the bed and pick up the tray again. "Okay then," she continued. "From this moment on, we're watching them. We're timing them. And we're going to memorize all we see and hear. How long do they leave us alone when they take us away? How many bring us food - not just the ones who comes in, but how many are with them? We need to know how many are on this ship. How big is this ship? Are there other prisoners here? We're going to start building files on the enemy and we're going to keep those files in our head."

 

She paused and scooped the last little bit of food off the tray with her fingers and ate it. "We're going to get out of here. Then we're going to come back here and kill every single one of these lizards that ever touched us."

 

The traitor looked directly at Rac and frowned. Her voice was surprisingly strong and direct. "This will be the only time I'll address you by your rank, Sergeant Rac. We're all equals here, but you're in charge. I acknowledge that and I want that understood by everyone."

 

Then the traitor rubbed the side of her face and her eyes narrowed as she slowly pointed her finger at Rac. "You got your freebie in yesterday," she continued. "But I want you to know that the next time you raise your hand to me, I'll rip your arm off and beat you to death with the bloody stump. Is that clear?"

 

"Yes, ma'am," Rac said in spite of herself.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

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CHAPTER FIVE

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John had excused himself from the others saying there was one last thing he needed to do before they left. He darted to the communications room and dialed the number to Mari's cell phone. Mari didn't answer. While that didn't completely surprise him, he wouldn't deny that he was disappointed. She hadn't call him or returned any of his messages since she'd left for Milan a couple of days ago.

 

He knew she'd made it safely to Italy because he'd spoken to her manager who promised to tell Mari to give him a call, but she never did. Finally after six rings, his call dropped into her voice mail. As he about to leave another message, an unexpected feeling of calm came over him.

 

At the beep, as he tried to visualize her face, he said, "Hi Mari. Tried to reach you over the last couple of days. Obviously I haven't been successful. I guess I didn't understand how much my telling you about a future I thought I didn't want had hurt you. I'm sorry. I never meant to do that. I thought you'd be happy knowing I wanted to be with you. Apparently I was wrong."

 

He paused, looked at his Lantern ring and then at Shayera's mace and then continued, "Something has happened to Shayera and I'm going to find her. I hope you understand. I'm not sure I do, but I do know one thing. I must bring her back. Hope to talk to you soon; at least, I hope you'll talk to me soon." He paused, then added, "I love you."

 

As he said those words he flashed back to a conversation he'd once had about knowing the difference between loving someone and being in love with someone. He stared at the receiver, then hung up, picked up Shayera's weapon and joined Mace and J'onn at the landing bay.

 

 

 

 

Hol lay awake in her bunk. She hadn't been able to get sleep. About two hours after the morning meal, two guards came in and hustled the women out of their cell. Wor and Ces were assigned to the ship's laundry. Shayera and Rac were assigned to scrub the steps of the ladderwell running to the below deck. The guard with the scarred chest was assigned to them and he seemed to have a serious 'mad on' for Shayera as Vixen would say. He made a point of poking her with his laser stick for no apparent reason every couple of minutes. The women weren't allowed to talk to each other while they worked and after a few hours of scrubbing the ladder wells twice were returned back to their cell.

 

Shayera became frustrated when she asked Wor and Ces what they saw while on laundry duty.

 

"Dirty underwear," Wor answered.

 

"No!" Shayera said reminding herself that these women had no training for this. "Don't you see? You were in a position to tell how many Gordanians are on this ship?"

 

"What?" said Ces. "By washing the lizard's laundry?"

 

Wor's eyes widened as she turned to Ces and said slowly. "No! By counting the sets of laundry." She turned to Shayera and nodded. "I get it. We'll do better tomorrow."

 

"Yes," Shayera said as she returned the nod. "Tomorrow, I'm sure we'll get another chance." At least, she hoped so.

 

 

 

 

There was no better place to be in the universe than at an outdoor cafe in Milan, Italy at night. The city lights and traffic sounds have a pleasant hypnotizing effect on even the most hardened, veteran traveler -- and this included Mari McCabe.

 

Mari sat with her agent, Solomon Samuels, gazing at the lighted downtown buildings. The warm night breeze felt good against her face. She noted that her drink was getting warm in her hands as she stared into the bottom of her glass. She glanced down at her cell phone on the table as it passed another call from John Stewart to voice mail.

 

"Aren't you going to even listen to his message?" Solomon asked as he watched her look at her phone. "He's called several times, you know."

 

"I know," she said softly as she signaled the waiter to freshen her drink. She sighed. "I'm just not ready to hear his voice at the moment."

 

Solomon leaned forward, placing both elbows on the table and cupping his hands into a fist. "It's probably not my place, but you know he loves you, right?"

 

She stared at Solomon a long time before finally saying, "You're right. It's not your place. I'll gladly give you fifteen percent of my earnings, but I want zero percent of your opinion right now." She frowned and looked away.

 

Solomon leaned back in his chair and frowned as the waiter placed a fresh drink in front of her. She gulped down the last of her old one, then picked up the new drink and took a sip.

 

Solomon shook his head and stood. "You're drinking too much, Mari. That's not my opinion, that's my fifteen percent talking. You need to stop and get ready for the photo shoot tomorrow. You haven't slept in days and it shows. Why don't you call the Green Lantern and at least tell him what's going on with you?"

 

"Why?" Mari said as she stood, downed the rest of her drink in two gulps and then put her cell phone in her purse. "No matter how much he tells me he loves me; no matter how much he says we'll stay together forever; no matter what he does; we both know I'll never be able to trust him because one day he's going to get that winged, alien bitch pregnant."

 

 

 

 

It had been several hours since the Gordanians had come for Wor as predicted. As predicted. Something was wrong here and Shayera couldn't put her finger on it. The Gordanian were predictable but they couldn't be this stupid. There are procedures, processes, rules and the Gordanians aren't following any of them. That's what was so troubling about this.

 

It was something Hro had said: First isolation, interrogation, then slave labor or death. Hol didn't remember any isolation and there had been no interrogation. The Gordanians were very familiar with the Thanagarian culture and the wearing of masks. At the minimum they should have asked what an unmasked Thanagarian was doing in deep space with a human. She smiled to herself. Rex didn't look human anymore and yet that should have prompted some questions in itself.

 

No. She couldn't remember being asked any questions. She'd seemed to jump straight to slave labor without even a medical exam and no military would knowingly expose its soldiers to the possibility of unsafe sex.

 

Sex.

 

That was wrong, too. Gordanians had been known to use sexual assault as a weapon for creating fear and terror in those they enslaved; but she wasn't aware of any reports of Gordanians using Thanagarians purely for recreational sex.

 

Kill them?

 

Torture them?

 

Mutilate them?

 

Sure. The Gordanians had done all of these things to Thanagarian prisoners. And frankly, in hindsight, she wasn't surprised at the intensity of the violence they'd directed toward her during her first night here. It was the Gordanian way of putting a stamp of finality to the point that they were in charge and they could hurt and kill her at anytime they wanted.

 

Okay. They established that point with crystal clarity. But the terror and fear factor of such demonstrations work best when they are sporadic and unpredictable. And based on what Rac and Wor had said, the pattern was easily, in fact too easily, discernable and the women could change the intended victim by simply changing bed assignments.

 

No, something wasn't right here.

 

Her thoughts were broken by the cell door being opened and Wor being shoved back into the cell followed by her smock. Hol joined the other two women as they helped Wor to her feet and then to her bed. Hol picked up her garment off the floor. As she handed Wor back her smock, Wor grabbed Hol's hand and pulled her closer toward her.

 

"Forty-two," she said in a whisper. "One of them said something about a crew of forty-two."

 

Hol smiled at the woman. "Good job. Sleep and we'll talk later."

 

Wor smiled, laid back in her bed and then closed her eyes.

 

As Hol returned to her bed, she just couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

 

 

 

 

J'onn had wanted to take a Javelin, but John insisted he could make better time using his ring. Rex hadn't been in a position to argue with either one, but now he secretly acknowledged that John was moving faster using his ring than anything he'd ever been in.

 

Upon reflection, Rex thought it was strange that John seemed so singularly focused on getting to Shayera that he didn't seem to be thinking things through. After all, they could have waited for some of the other big guns like Superman or Wonder Woman to show up. With those guys on deck, Rex would have felt better about going against up some of those ugly lizards he saw earlier.

 

"Hey pal," Rex said. "You weren't kidding about traveling faster than a Javelin, were you? You're kinda proving old Captain Robinson right, aren't you, when he said, 'The speed of the leader --'"

 

John cut him off. "Is the speed of the team. Yeah, in hindsight, that may have been one of the few things the Captain was right about." John went silent, staring straight ahead, as incredibly, the bubble picked up more speed.

 

 

 

 

The guards had taken away the breakfast trays and the women sat on their own beds except for Hol who stood. Her bruises appeared to be healing fast and it was easier for her to move. She walked to the cell door and checked to make sure it was locked, then she moved to the center of the cell and tried to stretch and flex her back and shoulders which now ached all the time. As she stretched she said softly in between her grunts, "Rac?"

 

Rac looked her without saying anything.

 

Shayera continued stretching, but maintained eye contact with Rac. She raised her right hand in the air and made a slow circular motion around the ceiling. "Surveillance cameras? Audio?"

 

Rac's expression was momentarily blank, then she understood. "None that I've found so far," she answered.

 

Shayera stopped her stretching, frowned and said softly, "Okay, we have to chance that your search was complete." She paused and then added, "And I'm sure as a sergeant in the Thanagarian army, it was."

 

Rac broke a small smile. Then Shayera continued, "Has anyone seen any other prisoners while here?"

 

The other women shook their heads and Shayera's frown deepened. "Okay then," she said. "Wor said there is a crew of forty-two here." She looked at Wor. "Do you remember exactly what was said?"

 

Wor stood up and stared at Hol curiously. "I overheard one of guards complain that with forty-two people on board he shouldn't have this duty so often. She paused and looked at Hol. "So the ship has a crew of forty-two, right?"

 

Hol sat down and looked at the still standing Wor. "Well done. Let's think about this for a moment. Let's say there are probably forty-two troopers on this ship. The officers and support staff probably make up another twenty percent or eight. That gives us a crew of about fifty on this ship. So this ship is not that big."

 

She turned to Rac. "How many flights of stairs did we wash down yesterday?'

 

"Two," Rac answered.

 

"Were there any decks below where we started?"

 

Rac shook her head. Hol nodded and then said, "I noticed one flight above where we stopped scrubbing."

 

Rac's eyes widened as she said slowly, "That could mean this ship is probably a class one transport or maybe even an alpha-size shuttle."

 

Hol nodded and put her hands to her lips and said, "Good observation." She could sense the eyes of the others on her.

 

"Okay. Let's say it's a crew of fifty," she continued. "You don't need fifty people to guard four...four you don't fear." She looked down at the floor. "This ship probably provides administrative support to the fleet."

 

She sighed heavily. Yeah, some support - us. Her eyes narrowed as she suddenly turned back to Wor. "He called sex a duty?"

 

Wor nodded. "Funny, huh?"

 

Hol frowned. "Yeah. Interesting choice of words. Duty, that is." She tugged at her right ear as she looked down. Since when did recreational sex become a duty to a lizard? "We'll need to revisit those words, but not now."

 

She inhaled deeply, looked back at the three women and continued, "I saw six ships in their fleet before I was captured. There were a couple of class sevens and a couple of class fours. That meant about a thousand people in this fleet. We can't be the only prisoners here. No. You wouldn't have fifty troops guard four women, but you might have fifty troops guard one hundred and four or even two hundred prisoners."

 

She paused. "But that can't be right either because you haven't seen any other prisoners, right? And I'm sure after six weeks you would have." Her eyes narrowed. "So it's not a prison ship as much as it's a holding ship."

 

She slowly shook her head as she said more to herself than to the others, "Yeah, a holding ship. I mean you don't patrol the galaxy collecting prisoners or looking for Thanagarians for sex. And it makes even less sense to drive around the star systems for long periods of time with prisoners on board." So what was it that made them stop my ship and take me off?

 

Shayera paused and shook her head again. "Eventually, they've got to transport us to a land based prison camp or something." She didn't want to think about what the something could be.

 

"Tonight we start memorizing the corridors and routes," she continued as she looked at the women. "We'll memorize the number of rooms in the passageways. We'll look at the locks on each door. We're looking for doors without locks. Those doors will be passageway doors. We're going to build a mental map of this ship. We're not going to be on this ship when it gets to that land based prison camp."

 

Hol looked up to see the eyes of the other three women were fixed on her in surprise. Rac flashed a smile and Hol took a secret pleasure in that. Wor nodded her head. Ces remained wide-eyed.

 

Hol modestly shrugged her shoulders. "I used to do this for a living," she said softly. "Now for those two Earth words I wanted you to repeat."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

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CHAPTER SIX

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After the morning meal, Hol and Ces were assigned to scrub the ladder wells. They were assigned a different set of stairs than the day before, but Hol again noticed that there were no stairs below their starting point and only one set above their stopping point. Yes, this probably was a class one transport.

 

The scar chested lizard was again assigned to her detail and he made no bones about his dislike for her. He poked and pushed her and stunned her with his laser stick just as before. She made a note that she would take particular pleasure in killing him when the time came for her escape.

 

When the women were returned to their cell, Hol said to Rac, "I think you're right about the size of the ship. I think it's a class one transport."

 

Rac said, "And I think you're right about the crew size. I counted about forty-five different names on the laundry tags."

 

"Okay, good," Hol replied with a slight smile on her face. "We're making progress."

 

"I don't know if this is important," Wor said brightly, "but I think I know where the radio room is."

 

"Where?" Ces asked.

 

"I think we passed it on the way to the laundry room this morning," Wor answered. "One of the doors on the right hand side of the hallway was open and I got a quick glimpse of what looked like a radio array. As we went by, they closed the door."

 

"Rac, did you see a radio room on the way to the laundry?" Hol asked.

 

"I didn't, but that doesn't mean Wor didn't."

 

"I know," Hol said. "Did the door have a cyber-lock on it, Wor?"

 

Wor lowered her head. "I don't know. I don't remember, but we can find out tomorrow, right?

 

Hol sighed and nodded. "Yeah. Tomorrow." Secretly, she wondered how many tomorrows they all had left.

 

 

 

 

Several hours later, Hol, in bed two, watched her as Ces sat on the edge her bed waiting for the Gordanian guard to come in. If the Gordanians were as predictable as they believed tonight they would come for Ces in bed four. Hol could see in the dimly lit cell Ces shivering. It wasn't from the cold.

 

She heard the cell door open and quickly closed her eyes. Mustn't let them know we're watching. She heard Ces get up from the bed and then a moment later felt a claw on her shoulder. She opened her eyes and stared into the face of the same ugly scar-chested lizard who had become her personal tormenter. He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the bed and pushed her out of the cell.

 

Her mind raced. Her and Ces? They were taking two, but she was out of order. If they wanted two, they should have gone for bed one, not two. That could only mean they specifically came for her. Were the Gordanians breaking their pattern?

 

Both Hol and Ces stood in the hallway looking at each other while one guard locked the cell door and the other guard stood between the two women.  Hol nodded her head at Ces and looked at the guard locking the cell. Hol's mind was moving at warp speed. Her brain screamed: 'We can take them.' She kept trying to motion with her eyes and slight head movement for Ces to do something.

 

Ces shook her head. Hol frowned. Damn! We could have taken them. She then noticed that the guard between them had been watching them both and snarled a grin. Hol sighed.

 

The guard that had locked the cell door pointed his laser stick at Ces and pushed her down the hall. Old scar chest pushed Hol in the opposite direction. Hol lower her head as she walked down the passageway. She was counting doors on both sides of the corridor. Two other doors had locks similar to her cell door. Two other doors had handles with no locks. Passageways.

 

"Oops", she said as she pretended to trip and fall to floor. As she started to get up, she looked behind the guard standing behind her and saw the other guard open a door on the left side of the ship and Ces walk in.

 

Shayera didn't pay a lot of attention to where the guards led her during her first night on the ship because she was concentrating on resisting going anywhere with them. But she thought the room she was finally dragged into was on the right side of the ship. She smiled at her guard as she got up. She didn't expect him to smile back and he didn't.

 

Yeah, old scar chest. She was going to enjoy killing him.

 

She didn't hear any sounds coming from any of the rooms directly next to her. Were the rooms soundproofed? Maybe there is no one else here. She didn't feel the floor vibrating as much either. Assuming this was a class one transport she was forward of the mid-ship and probably on the bottom deck. That meant the command deck was two flights up and behind her, probably above the room Ces walked in.

 

The guard shoved Hol into the last room on the right at the end of the passageway. Can't these people do anything other than push? The room was stark, but brightly lit. There was a table in the room, an examination table -  no, it was a gurney with an I.V. stand and fluid bags attached. There were two other Gordanians in the room besides the guard. There was a tray next to one of the Gordanians. The tray had hypodermic needles and clamps.

 

No!!

 

Hol turned and charged the guard behind her grabbing his laser stick. In one swift motion, she pulled the guard toward her, dropped on her back and flipped the guard over her. She pointed the stick at the guard and tried to fire the weapon, but it wouldn't fire. Frustrated, she smacked the guard with it instead and then ran at the other guard near the tray. Using the stick as a club, she knocked the tray over and was about to hit him with the laser stick when she looked up to see one of the other Gordanians in the room pointing a laser pistol at her. In that split-second, she knew that Thanagarian justice was going to be administered by a Gordanian guard and she'd not told John she still loved him since her return to the League.

 

There was a bright flash of light, unbelievable pain and then the darkness and silence consumed her completely.

 

 

 

 

J'onn, Mason and John were in the transport bubble at the coordinates of the attack on the Javelin earlier. They had been there about fifteen minutes, although it was hard to tell time since none of them wore a watch. John was getting angrier and more agitated the longer they waited. He held Shayera's mace by its strap, letting it swing freely in the bubble.

 

Mason thought about asking John if he wanted him to hold the mace for him, but he decided it would be a waste of breath. The way John was clutching that damn thing, Mason knew the next set of hands to hold it would be Shayera's.

 

Meanwhile, the Martian was quiet, seated in a floating lotus position and that was equally troubling to Mason. Maybe taking the Javelin would have been a better idea after all.

 

"What are we waiting for," Mason finally asked.

 

"I'd hoped for some help, but maybe that was too much to ask," John said making no attempt to mask the disappointment on his face. "You got anything on Shayera?" John asked J'onn.

 

"I am not sure. I thought I had a contact but it stopped."

 

"A contact? Shayera?" Mason asked.

 

The Martian shook his head. "As I said I am not sure now what I heard."

 

"Well, I'm not waiting any longer," John said. "There is a massive ion trailer here and I'm going to follow it." John's ring lit up a massive stream of sparkling dust particles.

 

"What's that?" Mason asked pointing to a green light directly above them. John smiled as wide as Mason could ever remember him smiling. "The cavalry," he answered.

 

Streaking at them at high speed was the female Green Lantern, Mason saw on the projection from John's ring back at the Watchtower. The woman stopped next to John and smiled. "Sorry I'm late. Local business held me up."

 

John looked relieved as he said, "Droxelle, these are my friends, J'onn J'onzz and Metamorpho. This is Droxelle, a good friend." He looked at Droxelle. "Why don't you step into my bubble?"

 

Droxelle nodded an acknowledgement of her introduction and stepped into John's bubble as he said, "Let's move out!"

 

 

 

 

With a deep breath, she slowly opened her eyes. She saw John and Carter standing over her. Vixen was also in the room, standing near her feet. Vixen seemingly had a fuzzy halo around her that seemed to engulf her entire body.

 

She closed her eyes again.

 

She was dizzy, light-headed and sleepy. Yeah, that was it. She was very sleepy. Her mouth was dry. She tried without success to clear the mental cobwebs and fog that wouldn't lift from her brain. There seemed to be a cold, cloudy haze in the room that prevented her from seeing anything more than a few feet away from her. The air in the room was thick and it hurt to breath. It was easier to keep her eyes closed than to try to see through the substantial mist.

 

Shot!

 

She remembered being shot. Was she dying? Is this what approaching death feels like? Was her dying brain calling up familiar images of John, Carter and Vixen?

 

She forced her eyes opened as she felt a hot breath on her face. It was John leaning over her. He smelled like a Gordanian. She tried to reach up to move his face away from her, but couldn't lift her arms. She could raise her head just enough to see that her arms were strapped at the wrist to the sides of the table. There was a bag of red liquid being pumped into her right arm.

 

It was hard to fight the urge to close her eyes. She turned her head to face Carter standing on the other side of her, opposite John. She heard herself say to him, "I really liked you, but John didn't want me to date you. Between you and me he was too stupid to see that I only dated you to make him jealous." She pondered for a moment that she had no idea why she said that and yet she couldn't stop herself from saying it. Yes, she must be dying. She looked back at John.

 

John's response was a grunt and a glance at Carter and Vixen.

 

"I never told you, John, that I still love you," she continued. "I assumed you knew, but I should have said it." Then she turned to Carter and whispered, "You should be happy. He won't have me. He has her." She pointed her finger at Vixen who seemed startled by the pronouncement. "Between you and me, I think about killing her all the time, but I'm pretty sure John will never want me if I do that."

 

She couldn't keep her eyes open now. Just as she closed them Vixen chirped something to John. John immediately snapped back at Vixen, "She is nothing. She is no threat to anyone." Then there was silence.

 

She wasn't sure how long she'd had her eyes closed, but when she opened them again, Vixen was gone. Through the mist she could see that John was saying something to her, but there was no sound coming from his mouth. Yet, she could hear his voice in her head as plain as day. He was asking her questions and she couldn't stop herself from answering him.

 

"Yes," she said softly as the dryness in her throat started to hurt now. "No more lies. No more secrets, remember?"

 

John silently spoke again.

 

"Yes, I was an officer," she answered slowly, "but you know that. They took my helmet and smashed it...crushed it. I've been dishonored and can never return to Thanagar, remember?"

 

Movement on the other side of John caught her eye, but it was hard to see what it was.

 

No! Not what, but who.

 

It was Carter who picked up something from a tray next to her bed. A bed? Was she in a bed? Was this her deathbed?

 

Carter grunted something and she involuntarily answered, "I'm not a spy anymore, Carter. I wasn't tracking Gordanian ship movements. I didn't even know there were Gordanians here."

 

John yelled something at her she didn't fully understand. The loudness of his voice in her head hurt her as he repeated his question. "But I'm telling you the truth," she said with difficulty. Her tongue was starting to swell. "Besides, I thought the war was over."

 

Carter grunted again as he waved a metal pincer-like device in her face. She shook her head as both John and Carter were now shouting questions in her head. "No, you're not the John I'm calling. I don't know anything about any resistance on Thanagar."

 

John put his hands on her throat.

 

No. Not a hand. A claw. John must have used his ring to turn his hand into a claw. He started slowly squeezing and she couldn't breathe.

 

"You're choking me," she wanted to scream, but she couldn't make a sound as she struggled against her restrains.

 

John relaxed his grip on her throat and she gulped in air as she tried to get her breath back. It was Carter now asking questions in her head. He held the metal pincers up to her face and then started slowly running it down along the side of her body. His voice was louder in her head, more persistent, now.

 

"But I am telling you the truth.  

 

"Stop! You're hurting me!

 

"John, make him stop! Tell him I'm telling the truth!

 

"JOHN... TELL HIM!!!"

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

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CHAPTER SEVEN

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J'onn's eyes snapped open. "I have her ...and she's in pain ...wait." J'onn frowned and lowered his head. "I've lost contact."

 

"No! Find her!" John roared. "Find her now!"

 

"Losing contact just means she's unconscious, right J'onn?" Mason asked trying to give John some hope. "Maybe she's sleeping, right?'

 

"Yes...maybe sleeping," the Martian answered.  He left unspoken the other alternative Mason noted.

 

Mason shook his head. "Look," he said. "You spoke of other voices calling you. Maybe she taught others to call you for her. Do you have a fix where those voices are coming from? I mean have you tried to make contact with one of them."

 

J'onn assumed the lotus position again and concentrated. After some moments, he said, "There is another female whose mind is also closed to me who is calling my name. It is not Shayera."

 

"Where is this mind?" Droxelle asked.

 

"Straight ahead, several hours," J'onn answered.

 

"And they've hurt her, huh?" John's eyes narrowed as he said that. "Keep looking for Shayera, but keep contact with the other one," he said as his energy bubble gathered speed. As the stars around him turned into a white streaky blur, Mason noted that John clutched Shayera's mace tightly.

 

And for the first time Mason wasn't sure he knew what John would do once he found those who he now knew had hurt Shayera.

 

 

 

 

Hol kept her eyes closed, but it was the sound of a woman groaning in pain that woke her up. She tried to concentrate, tried to recall what had happened. The last thing she remembered was someone shooting at her.

 

No! She'd been shot. Then she saw John and Carter, but that couldn't have been real, could it?

 

The woman's groans got louder. Was it her? No, not her. Rac!

 

She opened her eyes. Ces and Wor were standing over Rac who was on her knees in the middle of the floor; her hands were on her ears. Hol got out of the bed and knelt down next to Rac. The stricken woman looked at Hol. "It won't stop. It won't stop," Rac screamed. "It's ripping my head apart.'

 

"Tell me about it," Hol asked. J'onn here! J'onn here!

 

Before Rac could say anything, Shayera brought her hands up to cover her ears. She shook her head violently. It was a static filled, shrill, crackling noise in her head. It had to be J'onn. She closed her eyes, concentrated and mentally answered the noise. Here. I'm here. Hurry!

 

Rac slowly stood up. "The pain stopped!" she whispered. Wor pointed to Hol and said, "I don't think it stopped. I think it moved."

 

Hol stood. "I'm okay," she said and then she looked at Ces and frowned. "How did I get into my bed?"

 

Wor answered. "They brought you in before they brought Ces in. You were in bad shape. I put you in bed."

 

They? The Gordanians? Were the lizards pretending to be John and Carter? Were they the ones asking questions? Focus woman! What did they ask? Fleet movements? Yeah. Fleet movements and her mask. What else? Come on, think! They asked about the resistance and about John.

 

No! Not John. J'onn! The Gordanians asked about J'onn.

 

"Thanks," Hol said to Ces as she sat down on her bed. She looked at Wor. "Were you and Rac together the entire time Ces and I were gone?"

 

Wor nodded.

 

Hol looked at Rac. "So Rac, did all you know each other before you were captured on Omega Nine?"

 

"Wor and I knew each other before. We met Ces here," Rac answered. "Why?"

 

"I assume that you all interrogated each other to make sure one of you wasn't a spy -- an informer."

 

"A spy? What are you talking about?" Ces asked. "You're the only spy I know of."

 

"A little defensive there, aren't you, Corporal?" Hol said as she rubbed the back of her neck with her right hand. She stopped and then smiled to herself at the gesture. John's gesture.

 

"A couple of things have been bothering me since I got here," she continued. "I should have isolated, then interrogated and then perhaps put in this cell. Instead I was put straight in this cell without being asked anything. That's wrong. Then when they did ask me questions, they already knew I'd been an officer. Wonder how they knew that?"

 

"Well, they looked at your helmet when they captured you, didn't they?" Wor said as she glanced sharply at Rac.

 

Hol stood up and walked to the cell door. She pushed it to verify that it was indeed locked. She turned and faced the three women. "You know, you would think that, wouldn't you? But you see I wasn't wearing a helmet when I was captured because I'd been dishonored years ago. I didn't have a mask to wear."

 

"So I have to ask you, Corporal Ces," Hol said as she turned and folded her arms across her chest. "How long have you been spying for the Gordanians?"

 

 

 

 

In the darkness of space, John could make out a group of ships moving at slow cruising speed directly in front of them. Thanks to his ring, he'd made up both the time and distance to the Gordanian ships. J'onn verified that he'd made contact with Shayera and there was a collective sigh of relief that she was alive.

 

"They've probably picked us up on radar by now," John said. "We don't have much time before they launch an interceptor out here to see what or who we are. Which ship is she on?"

 

J'onn pointed to a small ship in the center of the convoy, "The small transport ship in the middle. She's in a room mid-ship on the second level."

 

"Are you sure?" Stewart asked as he stepped outside the transport bubble still holding Shayera's mace. He kept the bubble moving toward the ship.

 

"I am sure. She's..." J'onn replied then stopped as a look of horror came over his face. He reached for John, but couldn't penetrate the energy bubble. "Lantern! No! Don't do it!" J'onn shouted as John dropped his energy bubble around J'onn, Mason and Doxelle.

 

"John!" Droxelle screamed as she quickly ringed a new bubble around J'onn, Mason and herself. "What do you think you're doing?"

 

"Sorry, Droxelle, but I lied to you. I don't need your help, but I do need you to be a witness," John said calmly as if he were not concerned about the fate of the others had Droxelle not acted. "Neither the Martian or the human can survive in space without you," John said looking at Droxelle. "Keep them safe."

 

"Safe?" Droxelle exclaimed. "Safe from what?"

 

"From him," J'onn said. "He's going to kill everyone on board those ships."

 

"Man, don't do it," Mason implored. "We came here to help you...to help Shayera. There's always another way."

 

John shook his head. "Nope. That was the one thing Robinson was right about. Sometimes, Mace, there is no other way."

 

Droxelle's voice was sharp. "I will stop you, Lantern."

 

John knew she wasn't his equal and that she knew it as well. He didn't want to hurt her, but he wasn't going to let her stop him.

 

"You might stop me," he said, nodding slowly. "But, on the other hand, you may lose your concentration and drop the bubble and kill those two. I know you don't want to do that. I promise I will come back for you after I get Shayera." He turned and headed for the ships.

 

"Lantern! Stop!" Droxelle shouted as she ringed a wall in front of him.

 

John stopped in front of the wall and turned back to Droxelle. He lowered, then shook his head. "Lantern, you are really starting to tick me off me now!"

 

He formed a giant hand and swatted Droxelle and the bubble containing J'onn and Mason toward deep space.

 

 

 

 

"Ces?" exclaimed Wor. "A spy?"

 

"Me?" Ces said edging toward the door. "I'm not spy. How could you even accuse me of something like that? I tried to befriend you when no one else would and this is the thanks I get."

 

Shayera moved to the door, blocking it from Ces. "Yeah, that's what had me fooled. I asked Rac about surveillance equipment in this room and she said she couldn't find any. One of the first things you learn at Officer School is that when a Thanagarian army sergeant searches for something and doesn't find it, it's probably not there. The Gordanians didn't need surveillance cameras in here because they had a spy. They had you debriefing them every two days."

 

Ces's eyes widened.

 

"At first I thought it might be Wor," Shayera continued. "But then when I went into that room and they asked me about J'onn, I knew it couldn't be her. I didn't give you all those words until after Wor came back. They could have only found out about that from you last night. You've been feeding information about us to the Gordanians."

 

Rac screamed at Ces, "Is what she's saying true?"

 

Ces didn't answer. Enraged, Rac flew at her. "You traitor," Rac yelled as she grabbed the woman by her shoulders. "We've been telling you things about our families and you've been telling them to the lizards. I'll kill you!!"

 

Hol and Wor jumped on Rac and pulled her off of Ces. "Don't kill her," Shayera said as she shielded Ces, who was cowering behind her. "The Gordanians don't know that she's been compromised yet. This can still work to our advantage."

 

She then looked at Ces, "The nightly sexual assaults were a cover, weren't they? It was so you could debrief the lizards every two days without arousing our suspicions. That's why that crewman that Wor overheard referred to us as a 'duty.' It was all done to convince us that we should trust you because we were all suffering the same fate. But we all weren't suffering the same fate, were we? You were spared when it came your turn to go, weren't you? I saw them take you into a different room than I remember being taken to. I'll bet you were in that room with me last night, weren't you? You were the one I thought was Vixen."

 

Shayera glared at the woman. "Why'd you do it? Why did you betray us?"

 

There was sadness in Ces's voice as she said, "So they won't kill my husband on Thanagar. He was a member of the resistance before he was captured." She started crying as she said, "I'm sorry, but they promised not to kill him if I worked with them and told them anything I heard in here. I know it was wrong, but don't you see, I had to."

 

Shayera stepped back. "So you could save the man you love...." Her voice trailed off.

 

"You're a fool! A damn fool!" Rac screamed. "They've probably already killed your husband and the rest of your family, too."

 

"I didn't know what else to do," Ces shouted back. She was silent for a moment then she softly said, "I'm sorry."

 

Wor let go of Rac's arm and stared at Ces. "You're only sorry you got caught." Suddenly, Wor grabbed the front of Ces's smock, pulled the woman toward her and punched the smaller woman in the throat. Ces dropped to her knees gasping for air. "We trusted you," Wor snarled, "confided in you and this is how you thank us."

 

"Stop it," Hol snapped, stepping between Ces and Wor. "If you kill her, we're screwed in more ways than one. They'll kill us all without giving it a second thought. And I'm not going to die because of her. We have the advantage, at least, for the next couple of hours because they don't know she's been compromised yet."

 

Shayera looked down at Ces, who was still clutching her throat and gasping for air. "I'm the only one keeping you alive now. You'll tell me what I want to know or I'll turn you over to Wor and Rac. And we both know how much they want to thank you for the last six weeks. Now tell me -- where is this ship heading? Why did they stop my ship? And what have you told them about us?"

 

She pointed her finger between Ces's eyes as she growled, "You'd better weigh carefully the next words you speak because if I don't believe them, they will be your last, understand me?"

 

 

 

 

He'd told Droxelle when he asked her to join him on this mission that he needed a witness so the Guardians would understand that his intent had been to rescue a team mate and not execute some sort of personal vendetta against the Gordanian Empire. It had been a lie, but Stewart knew Droxelle would believe him because he'd been her teacher. And teachers never lie to their students.

 

He was honestly surprised that lying had been so easy. The hardest part was shielding his thoughts from the Martian. And that was not difficult because using his ring, he willed those thoughts hidden.

 

He glanced toward the point in space where he'd flung Droxelle for a moment and then took off at high speed toward the fleet. She would return and confront him. He knew that. He hoped by the time she got to him it would too late.

 

He flew toward the largest ship as he ringed a giant pair of hands around it. He flipped the ship upside down and then snapped it in half like a cookie. He grabbed the second ship in the armada, flipped it over and smashed a third ship with it. There was a fire on the third ship and within seconds, the vessel exploded.

 

He grabbed the broken hulk of the first ship and rammed it through a fourth. He snapped the fifth ship in half and took a moment to survey the wreckage. There were no lifeboats or shuttles coming from the destruction in front of him. Apparently, there were no survivors and strangely Stewart felt no remorse. He looked at Shayera's mace in his hand. All that mattered was that he find Shayera.

 

The small transport ship that J'onn had said Shayera was on was now alone in the plunder and opened fire on him. John ringed a large hand and ripped the gun turrets off the ship and destroyed the communication mast. He then turned the ship upside down and then quickly turned it right side up. Using his ring as welder's torch, he cut a hole in the ship and entered.

 

Death would be his gift to anyone who had hurt Shayera, and in his mind, they all had hurt her.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

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CHAPTER EIGHT

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Their cell was a mess. Literally. The beds were bolted to the deck, but when the ship turned upside down and then back again, mattresses and women smashed into the ceiling and then crashed back into the floor. Miraculously, they had avoided falling into the metal bed frames or into each other.

 

"What was that?" Wor asked no one in particular as she tried to stand. "Are you all okay?"

 

"What's going on," Rac asked.

 

"I hope that's our freedom ticket," Hol answered as she stood. "I think that's my friends. Otherwise a couple of more turns like that and it won't matter who they are. We should grab a mattress to cushion our fall if this happens again." The others nodded and grabbed a mattress from the floor.

 

Except for Ces, who Rac grabbed by her hair and pulled toward her. "Oh, no, bitch. You don't get a mattress. You get to take your chances just we did after meeting you here."

 

Hol was about to concur with Rac when she heard the click of the cell door being unlocked and had a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. The door burst open and a guard made a beeline for Hol. He grabbed her by her smock, pulled her out of the cell and pushed her to the floor in the hallway. It was the same guard that had stunned her with a laser stick during her first night of captivity, stunned her while she was washing steps and then later dragged her in that room where they drugged her. It was the one with the large scar on his chest.

 

Hol watched in horror as the guard then opened fire on the remaining women in the cell. The screams in the room were matched by Hol's own as she leaped on the guard's back, trying to kick the weapon out of his hand. He grunted as he pulled her over the top of his shoulder with his free claw and flung her back to the floor like a human picking a fuzz ball from a sweater. He continued firing into the cell until the screams and groans stopped. Then he turned his attention toward Hol.

 

The guard yanked Hol up off the floor and pushed her down the corridor. She stumbled as the guard shoved her and then she recognized the room the guard was pushing her towards. It was the room she'd been in earlier, the room in which they'd drugged and hurt her.

 

She took a deep breath. If she was going to die, she was going to die fighting and she damn sure wasn't going to die in that room. She was twenty feet from the door when she dropped to the ground and executed a sweep kick knocking the guard over. She grabbed his laser stick, but couldn't get the weapon to fire.

 

Again!

 

She jabbed the lizard in the stomach with the stick, then hit him in the face knocking him out. She wasn't going to last long if she didn't find a way of killing these reptiles.

 

A pistol!

 

Each one of these Gordanians carried a laser pistol. If she couldn't get the rifle to fire, then she'd take his pistol. She searched the unconscious lizard, found his weapon and attempted to fire it into him. It wouldn't fire, but when she pointed it at the wall, it blasted a good size hole in the structure.

 

This wasn't good. Had the Gordanians devised some sort of safety feature that prevented their weapons from being turned on them? Using the laser stick, she smacked the lizard in the head again and again until she was sure he was dead. Then she dropped the laser stick next to the dead reptile and ran down the hallway back toward the cell where she knew the dead women were.

 

The command deck had to be two flights up and back at the other end of the hallway. She had no idea what she would do once she got to the bridge, but staying where she was not an option. She frowned. All she had was a stupid pistol that might not work against the lizards.

 

She'd give anything for her mace right now.

 

Suddenly a green shaft of light cut a hole in the floor in front of her and she smiled.

 

John.

 

 

 

 

He'd lost count of the number of Gordanians he'd killed in the last ten minutes, but it didn't matter. With his ring he'd searched the ship and found her on this deck. Shayera stood in front of him bare-foot, in some sort of open back gown, holding a laser pistol. But she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen when she smiled at him and said, as she jumped into his arms, "What kept you?"

 

He smiled and rubbed his shaven head, "Had to do my hair. We'll be out of here in a minute." He held out her mace. "Here. This is for you."

 

She stepped back from the embrace, grabbed her weapon and said, "I thought it was an Earth custom to bring the female flowers and candy as a greeting gift." She smiled. "I think I like this better." She pointed to the confinement band on her wings. "Think you can do something with these?"

 

John stepped to the side and said, "Sure, don't move." Using his ring, he cut through the band like a hot knife through butter. With a clink, the restraint band dropped to the floor and Shayera flexed her shoulders and spread her wings.

 

"I guess Vixen was wrong," she said with a smile. "You are good for some things." She paused, faced John, placed a hand on his shoulder and said, "John, I know this isn't the right time, but I need to tell you something. I know things have changed between us, but I want you know that I still - -"

 

She didn't finish her sentence as suddenly the smile left her face as her eyes flashed wide open and she stumbled forward a step, groaned, dropped her mace, then dropped to her knees in front of John. There was a stunned, vacant look on her face as she looked up at him, reached to grab him and clutching air fell to the floor face first with a thud at his feet. There was smoke rising from the grapefruit size burn hole in her upper back.

 

John was stunned for a moment, then he screamed, "Shayera!!" The shot had come from a Gordanian who had been behind her.

 

"No!" John screamed as he discharged a blast of green energy into the approaching Gordanian. The blast threw the lizard against the far wall where he collapsed into a smothering heap.

 

John dropped to his knees, turned Shayera over and cradled her head in his lap. Her eyes were opened but her stare was unseeing. He gently rocked her back and forth as he repeatedly cried out, "No! No, not now."

 

He didn't notice the Gordianian guard standing over him until he spoke. "Isn't this what you wanted, Green Lantern?"

 

John looked up at the Gordanian, then to the spot where he'd blasted the other lizard. That Gordanian was gone. Without looking back, John fired an energy blast at the reptile pinning him against the near wall. He kissed Shayera's still warm lips, then gently placed her head on the floor.

 

"You better make peace with your god because you're about to meet him," John bellowed as he grabbed the Gordanian by the throat with his bare hands.

 

The Gordanian, who had a massive scar across his chest, slapped John's hands away and pushed him back. "You don't scare me and you can't kill me, John Stewart. She tried twice and failed. But she didn't know who I was, but you do, don't you?"

 

John stood there as the lizard brought his claws to the top of his head and pulled at his horn, removing a mask and revealing a face that John had seen in his trip to the future. It was the face of the unmasked Warhawk, the face of Rex Stewart.

 

"I am the son you didn't want," the Gordanian said, "the son you'll never have now. There'll be no Rex Stewart because that's what you wanted."

 

John's jaw dropped. "Noooooo!"

 

The Gordanian wearing Rex Stewart's face smiled. "You should be happy, Dad. This is exactly what you wanted, isn't it? Just think, the hundreds you killed today represent the hundreds Warhawk will never save. Makes you proud, doesn't it? And you don't need to worry because I made sure she was punished at every opportunity just like I knew you wanted, Dad. I even made sure she didn't get to tell you that she still loved you. And now that she's dead, she can't interfere with your life anymore. You see, don't you? You won't be destiny's puppet after all." Then he laughed. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

 

John backed away in horror as he screamed, "No! Nooooo!"

 

 

 

 

"He's coming around," Batman said as he took a look at the paper strip that came from the heart monitor. He nodded to himself as Shayera watched.

 

John lay in bed with an oxygen mask on his face. He'd been unconscious for the last ten hours. Shayera had not left his side since Bruce brought John to the Watchtower medical bay. She was hungry and now had a headache. She asked one of the med lab techs to get her an aspirin.

 

"Is he going to be okay?" she asked, not of the medical personnel, but of Bruce.

 

The doctor on duty pouted, but deferred answering Shayera's questions to Batman.

 

Bruce nodded. "Yes. I got the Scarecrow antidote to him in time." Then Bruce frowned as deeply as he had been doing all night and shook his head as he continued sadly, "I knew the Scarecrow was in that jewelry store, but he got away from me and ran toward the back door where Lantern was posted. He sprayed him with his gas before I got to him."

 

Bruce paused. "There's no telling how the gas will affect him until he comes to. Sometimes the gas removes fear, sometimes it gives fear. Once, it made Batgirl dream about her worst fears. There's just no telling what it'll do."

 

Suddenly John started moaning and cried out, "No! Nooooo!" He bolted straight up and opened his eyes. His look was indescribable as he seemed to being trying to figure out where he was.

 

Shayera smiled at him, keeping her eyes on his. "John, it's okay. You're okay. You're safe."

 

John's eyes locked on her and tears seemed to well in them as he swallowed hard and whispered, "You're alive!"

 

Shayera looked first at Bruce then back to John. She placed her hand on John's and gently patted it. "Yes, I am and so are you. You're okay." She was surprised when he grabbed her hand and gently, but tightly squeezed it.

 

She noticed Bruce's raised eye expression and sheepishly withdrew her hand from John's.

 

"You were gassed by the Scarecrow at the jewelry store," Batman said to John. "What did you see?"

 

John lowered his head, but said nothing. Bruce nodded and turned to Shayera. "I think he'll be okay now. I'm going to leave, but you two should talk because whatever it was, I suspect it involved you."

 

Bruce signaled the medical staff to leave with him. The doctor didn't protest. Shayera thought to herself that it wouldn't have done any good any way. Very few people win an argument with Batman.

 

After the staff left, Shayera sat on the edge of the bed. John leaned forward and said, "Do me a favor. Just turn around and spread your wings." She looked at him curiously, stood, turned and spread her wings and then refolded them. A smile crossed John lips as she turned back to face him. He leaned back against the pillows.

 

"Was Batman right?" Shayera asked. "Did it involve me?" She leaned forward.

 

John nodded. "It did." He looked away silently

 

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

 

"Not yet. I need time to process what happened. Or what I thought happened," he amended.

 

She sat on the edge of the bed again. "I called Vixen and told her you were here. She told me to call her when you were out of danger. She's coming back tonight." Shayera paused. "John, whatever you saw wasn't real. It was a ...a dream." She smiled weakly.

 

John just shook head. He was silent for a long time. She resisted saying anything to break the silence, hoping that he would say what was troubling him. After a moment, he said softly, "I dreamed I...I made choices and others paid for my decisions in ways I couldn't begin to imagine or describe."

 

It was a struggle for her to keep her expression flat and harder for her to remain silent.

 

John leaned forward. There was sadness in his voice as he continued, "I think I hurt some people I didn't mean to by the choices I've made, and things I said, and I didn't fully realize to what extent until now." He looked away. "That's what I saw."

 

She stood. "You once said something about saying you're sorry when you've hurt someone and moving on. I don't know the details of what you saw and I hope that one day you feel you can tell me, but let me say this. If it's something you can correct, you should correct it. If you can't, then say you're sorry and move on with your life."

 

His eyes widened at her words, but he said nothing. She flashed a wisp of a smile as she said, "I'm going to go to the cafeteria and get a sandwich. I haven't eaten since Batman brought you in earlier. Do you want anything?"

 

"I'll have whatever you're having. When you get back from the cafeteria we'll talk."

 

She smiled and nodded. "Okay." Then came that familiar crackle in her ear as Mr. Terrific said in her earpiece, "Shayera, Batman, Stargirl, Red Tornado and Doctor Light to the transporters. The Royal Flush gang is causing havoc in Metropolis." Shayera frowned as she looked at John and shook her head, then pressed her finger to her ear and said, "Be right there."

 

"You gotta go, huh?" John said as he started to get out of the bed.

 

"I do, but you're going to stay in that bed until the doctors say you can leave." She paused and smiled briefly. "That's an order, mister. I'll get someone to bring you a sandwich. I'll be back as soon as I can."

 

She turned to leave. When she got to the door, John called out, "Shayera?" She stopped and turned to face him. He was back under the bed covers.

 

"Did Mace ever tell you the difference between loving someone and being in love with someone?"

 

Shayera didn't try to hide her confusion as she shook her head and said, "Mace? Metamorpho? No. Why?"

 

"No reason in particular. I was just checking...you know just confirming to myself that I would indeed need to think about it a couple times before doing it."

 

"Doing what?"

 

He smiled slightly and said, "When you get back, I'll tell you."

 

Shayera flashed a smile equal to his. "Okay then, when I get back. But don't forget."

 

She turned to head for the transporters convinced that she would never completely understand humans in general, and John in particular. But her smile widened when she heard John say behind her in a voice he hadn't used with her in years, "I won't forget and neither will you. It's a destiny thing."

 

She smiled to herself, then ran down the hall toward the transporters without looking back.

 

END

 

 

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