/
Instead of tearing across the sky in a ball of fire like I had expected, Zod had simply put in the coordinates for our ancestral home and let the ship's VI fly us there at a perfectly average speed. He hadn't said a single word yet, just stared out the simulated windows in damning silence. The way his finger kept absently brushing the trigger on the control yoke, certainly didn't help settle my nerves.
Unwilling to be the first to break the tense silence, I let my eyes wander around the fighter style compartment.
His personal shuttle was a thing of dark beauty.
A teardrop shaped hull design, with an exterior that appeared to be made of one smooth piece of matte black metal. The insanely tight tolerances on the doors and external paneling meant that one couldn't be entirely sure where any of the egress points were. It’s hidden integral thrusters ensured the ship would have to be all but gutted before it ever lost maneuverability. And while I couldn't spot any tells on the outside, the design architecture of the controls indicated there was some type of onboard weapons system.
Even the cabin arrangement told a story. Instead of being at the front with a thick panel of transparent metal, we sat comfortably at the heart of the ship, ensconced in the ship's hardened shell and its comparatively softer internals. The tight corridor we had to walk through to get here had sealed itself behind us with multiple bulkheads, no doubt to make up for the weak point the voids' existence created. In a word, the ship would die before we did.
It held more in common with a covert gunship than any commercial vehicle.
When we lifted off the landing pad, I couldn't even feel the telltale vibration of the gravity drive powering on. Just what manner of propulsion did this craft use? I pondered how I would have gotten around the issue, perhaps splitting the load between multiple smaller gravity drives scattered throughout the ship? If there were enough of them, such an arrangement would reduce chatter. And that type of redundancy would certainly mesh well with the design philosophy the ship seemed to be following.
The strangeness of the ship made my brain itch, it didn't match anything I had ever seen before. It must have been a custom job. I really wanted to ask questions, but this really wasn't the time to sate my ravenous curiosity.
The craft didn't bother following the flow of traffic, it just flew in a straight line, adjusting only for any errant buildings. All the other vehicles in the air lanes parted around us perfectly like a school of fish sensing a predator, automated systems working seamlessly to ensure our path went unimpeded. In some cases, the very air lanes themselves seemed to subtly shift to accommodate us. It was unlikely most people even realized anything odd had happened, who would be paying proper attention when the VI’s did all the flying in the air lanes?
As it turns out, being the Grand General of Krypton had its perks. Who would have guessed?
The only other people who had such obscenely high credentials were the Council, so this was an entirely novel experience for me. If the situation had been different, perhaps I would have enjoyed it more. As it was, I couldn't stop bouncing my knee and sending nervous glances Zod’s way.
If he noticed my not so subtle looks, he didn't seem inclined to react. His eyes fixed firmly on some distant point on the horizon.
“Thank you.” His gruff non sequitur startled me, but I had been waiting for him to speak, so I didn't jump.
I turned to him, but he still didn't look at me. I didn’t say anything, he was clearly working things out in his own way. Considering the bomb I had dropped in his lap, I couldn't exactly begrudge him needing time to process. His previously loose grip around the control yoke had tightened to the point that I could see his knuckles turning white.
It was a full minute later before anything else happened.
Slowly, his hands unclenched and moved to rest loosely in his lap. His chair turned to face me. “Thank you-,” He spoke haltingly, as if each word had to be measured carefully. “-for trusting me.” His expression looked almost lost. “Their fear of me… hurts?” He said it almost like a question, like even he couldn't quite grasp what he felt.
“But, I understand it.” He closed his eyes as if the very words pained him to admit. “I can see the world they fear all too clearly. If I had been in the room when the Council so callously dismissed Jor-El…” Air was expelled explosively from his nose. “I don't know what I would have done. Even now, the very notion fills me with such… rage. An all-consuming, black, vile thing.” When his eyes opened next, they were dark and foreboding, his once placid expression began to contort into a rictus of raw anger.
I blinked, and it was gone. Zod just looked at me calmly. I had to wonder if I had simply imagined the whole thing.
Zod spoke softly, almost wondrously, a glimmer of something in his eyes. “But you… you, Kara, you still put your faith in me.” He shook his head slowly, almost sadly, “I cannot know if it will be enough.” He swallowed, his expression and voice getting firmer, the stoic mask locking back into place as he continued. “But it will have to be. We cannot lose.”
With his piece said, he turned back to staring aimlessly out the simulated windows, taking in Kandors skyline. In the ensuing silence, I heard him mutter one last thing under his breath. It was a pitiful thing, equal parts determined vow and desperate plea.
“I can’t. Not again.”
/
The house's defenses didn't bother contesting us. Our ship just silently received the docking protocols without any prompting.
They were expecting us.
Kelex silently opened the doors for us. “Jor-El is this way.” The way Kelex’s liquid geo face didn't even ripple, told me more about the state of the household than its clipped tone ever could.
“It is good to see you safe Lady Kara.” Kelex still sounded curt, but his tone had softened a bit
“It’s good to see you too, Kelex.” I replied honestly. The droid had been nothing but kind to me growing up, programmed or not, he was a part of the family.
The rest of the journey through the house was done in silence.
Lab Seven was just how I remembered it being when I had fled. Which shouldn't have been as surprising as it was, considering I had seen it that very morning. With all the excitement, it had felt so much longer. Certainly didn't feel like the five hours it was.
Lara and Dad stood to one side, both of them visibly tense. And Jor was standing in the center of the Lab… wearing armor. I did a double take, he was wearing power armor.
Metal plates fit perfectly snug to his form, a bronzeish alloy with delicate silvery filigree inlaid into its surface. A stylized House of El crest on its chest was made from a complicated series of interlocking plates.
It was beautiful, clearly a labor of love, probably a passion project of his from long ago. More of an art piece than a weapon of war. But the synthetic muscles I could see in between the joints told me it was more than just a show piece.
If I were honest, I couldn't tell if the sight made me nervous or relieved. With Jor in power armor and Zod wearing nothing but a skinsuit, it meant Zod would have no choice but to try and keep things civil at the very least. Unless Jor was the one to escalate, but that was doubtful in the extreme. Words were Jor’s weapon of choice. The armor was likely just a deterrent to keep a line of dialog.
“Dru, I know-” Jor started.
The General lunged. Not making a sound, no warning shout, just violence. Somehow crossing the ten foot gap in a second.
Jor must have been waiting for it, as he managed to backstep just out of reach. But even then, he only just avoided the initial right hook.
“Dru! Please, I kn-” Jor tried again, only to be interrupted by another jab at his exposed face. Jor dodged again with a curse, smaller plates detaching from his torso and moving like water, flowing upwards to reconfigure around his head into a proper sealed helm. Jor dodged or deflected the onslaught of rapidfire blows. They were a blur of movement and thumping noises.
Jor never once threw a punch of his own. At first, I had thought it was because he didn't want to hurt his friend. Then I got my answer when a tongue of lightning exploded out of Jors gauntlet, Zod casually slapped the offending arm to the side, sending the blast harmlessly into a console.
With his plan for an easy victory foiled, Jor entered the fight in earnest, he went on the offensive. Or should I say he tried to go on the offensive. The underhanded tactic must have pissed Zod off, as suddenly his strikes were coming even faster and with greater ferocity. Before, being so defensive had been a choice, now it was Jors only option. In between strikes, Jor kept trying to use the lightning attack, but each time, Zod seemed to see it coming and would either hit Jor off target or move out of the line of fire.
Kelex projected a small force field in front of me. A glance at Dad and Lara showed that they were already behind their own protections. It seemed this fight was already foreseen.
Jor would try to gain distance so he could properly aim his gauntlet, but Zod would have none of it. Doggedly staying within arms reach, pressing his martial advantage ruthlessly.
Then Jor zigged when he should have zagged. The blow was so sudden and unexpected I jerked back on reflex. It had all happened so fast, I didn't see it happen. One moment they were fighting, the next, Jor was laying in the sparking wreckage of a half finished prototype.
The silence that followed the thunderous crash was deafening. Zod remained where he was, arm still extended from the devastating punch. Slowly, he moved back into a more relaxed stance, patiently waiting for Jor to get back up.
After a few beats of tense silence, Jor’s still form suddenly twitched. With a few false starts, he began to clamber out of the twisted metal and shattered crystals. His armor looking none the worse for wear.
Zod was on him again before he could so much as consider raising his arms. A large tower shield of pulsing gold light sprung from Jors half raised left arm. Zod punched it a few times, causing the hard light construct to flash with each impact, each one making a sound not unlike a chime. Seeing that hitting it was getting him nowhere, he tried to maneuver around it.
Jor held the shield up, desperately twisting in place, trying to keep it between himself and the irate General.
“I know you're angry with me Dru! But-”
“Angry?! I’m not angry, Jor!” At odds with his own words, he swiped Jor's exposed feet out from under him and while he was still midfall, Dru delivered a hammer blow to his chest, sending him rocketing towards the ground.
Jor hit the floor so hard, he bounced. Power armor and all.
“I am furious.” He hissed at his downed friend.
Jor might have said something, but he was far too busy coughing and gasping for air.
Grabbing him by a crease in the armor, he lifted the still recovering man completely off the ground with one arm. His other arm reared back, fist clenched. But he paused.
I could see his muscles visibly tremble through his skin suit. Then with a wordless grunt, Zod dropped him. Jor landed in a boneless heap at his feet.
“Get him to a healing pod.” Zod growled towards Kelex, stiffly stomping back towards me. He didn't even look winded.
As the droids floated Jor past me, I had to do a double take at the sight of his chest piece. There was a very noticeable dent in the center of the once pristine armor.
I had known the Soldier Caste had combat related mods, but that was far beyond what I would have thought to be possible. Being able to fight someone in power armor was one thing, but to actually damage it? That was a different level entirely.
A concerned Lara sped past us to slip into the lift with Jor. After all the violence, Dad looked conflicted at the prospect of following and leaving me alone with the still pissed Zod.
I quickly shooed him along. If anything, Dad may just be next. It would be best to let Dru cool off without any potential targets in line of sight. And, call it nepotism, but I really didn't think I had it in me to stand back and watch my Dad get beaten up. Jor was already toeing the line.
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Before leaving, he made a point of ordering Kelex to stay with me. Despite not needing it, I felt a surge of warmth at the protective display.
The moment the lift doors shut, Zod collapsed to his hands and knees, he sounded like he was having an asthma attack. His frame rattled with each struggling breath.
“Dru?!” I shouted in alarm, jumping towards him. “Kelex!” The droid hardly even extended his arms towards him before Zod started trying to weakly wave him off.
“I’m fine.” He said between harsh pants. His whole face was flushed red and sweat dripped off of him to pool on the floor. Even his arms shook violently, threatening to give out entirely.
I ignored him. “Kelex, what's wrong with him?!” He had looked fine not even a moment earlier, but now he looked like he was on death's door. ‘Was he poisoned? Did Jor do this?’ I didn't want to entertain the idea of my family doing this to Dru of all people, but this wasn't normal.
The robot was still waving its prehensile limbs around the General, but he dutifully responded. “General Zod appears to be suffering from a combination of shock and withdrawal.”
“What?!” I turned to the robot in shocked confusion. ‘Dru did drugs?’ The very notion was absurd, but with him literally keeled over, I couldn't outright refute it.
“General Zod's solar receptors appear to have been almost entirely drained of energy. His body is in shock at the sudden shift in status. A few hours of radiation therapy and he should make a full recovery.” A bright red glow began to emanate from Kelexs arms and body.
Zods condition almost immediately began to improve. After a minute of bathing in the light, his arms stopped shaking. I was glad we had made those improvements to Kelex after the invasion.
“What could have caused that Kelex?” I asked as I waited for Zod to recover enough to be questioned. Awkwardly rubbing circles into his back, trying to ease his breathing.
“I calculate a 87.9% probability that General Zod was employing Darmala.”
“Darmala?” I didn't recognize the term. Was it a weapon? I glanced back down at Zod, was it hidden in his wrist comp? There was nowhere else he could be hiding a weapon, especially not with that skin suit.
“Darmala; a form of spiritual meditation first developed in the twelfth century of the Tar-Zal period. Masters of the ancient art were said to be able to guide their physical and spiritual sides into a state of perfect harmony, allowing them to perform extraordinary feats. It was later discovered that what they had believed was them controlling their spiritual side was merely them bypassing their solar receptors' autonomic functions and gaining conscious control of them.”
I thought back to the dented chest piece. Extraordinary feats, indeed.
Eventually he managed to climb back to his feet. “Thank you, Kelex.” He nodded at the robot, who was still emitting red light. I subtly shifted a bit so Dru was between us.
“It is of no concern, General Zod. You are still registered as a friend of the Household…” I could practically hear the unsaid ‘unfortunately’ at the end. My eyes widened at the blatant disdain in Kelex’s tone. I had never even known Kelex could be rude. But then again, Kelex had just watched Dru beat one of his charges.
It seemed Zod caught it too, he actually smiled slightly in bemusement, completely unbothered by it. If there was one thing Zod could appreciate, it was loyalty.
“Sorry.” He huffed. “I got a bit carried away with that last strike.” He looked frustrated at the admittance. Which I guess was fair, he was the Grand General of Krypton, staying cool under stress was supposed to be his thing. But genetically modified or not, everyone has a breaking point.
“Don't apologize.” I chastised, swatting his arm. “It’s better you're able to vent it now, than later when it's actually important, right?” That sort of thinking was unhealthy in the extreme. If you couldn't allow yourself to mess up without stakes, when could you?
He just grunted noncommittally.
/
“How is he?” I asked quietly as I stepped off the lift and into the medical bay.
Lara just stared at me silently.
I shifted, “Look, I know it's my fault Uncle Jor is-”
Suddenly I was looking in a different direction with a stinging pain in my cheek. It took more than a few blinks to process what had just happened.
She had slapped me.
I turned back to her, cradling my smarting cheek. “I’m sorry Jor got hurt.” It was the only thing I could think to say to the angry woman.
“That wasn't for Jor.” She spat, somehow looking even angrier. “That was for jumping out of the shuttle. Do you have any idea how terrified I was?! Your mother would have bent you over her knee for that stupidity, so be grateful I’m not.” She roughly pulled me into a hug, mindful of her growing baby bump.
‘The shuttle?’ “So, you're not mad about Jor getting hurt because of me?” I didn't want to bring it up, but I had to know.
Lara scoffed, “This isn’t anywhere near the first time Jor has been in that healing pod due to fighting Dru. Jor likes to test himself, and Dru spoils him. I was never actually scared of Dru killing Jor. Besides their long friendship, Dru knows my husband is the smartest man on Krypton.”
She waved a hand negligently at the glowing pod. “Two broken ribs and a concussion are hardly even worth mentioning compared to what I have seen in the past. Of course, don't tell Dru I said that. As far as he is concerned, I am highly disapproving of him roughing my husband up.” At my odd look, she elaborated. “Someone has to discourage their stupidity.”
Before I could respond, I was pulled into a wall of flesh and wrapped in strong muscular arms. The familiar warmth was unmistakable.
“Don’t you ever scare me like that again, Kara. Ever.” Dad muttered into my hair fiercely.
“I-”
“Promise me.” His tone brooked no argument. His arms tightened around me.
“I promise, Dad.” I hugged him back, just as hard.
The Pod opened and Jor walked out. He scowled at the sight of me. “I hope for all our sakes you made the right choice.”
“So do I.”
Jor kept scowling, but he looked away at my honest reply. “We will need to rearrange so many contingencies now.” He muttered to himself. His brain already trying to figure out the next move.
“Save the planning for later. Zod is waiting for us in the living room.” I interrupted, I didn't want him to get too set in his way of thinking again. The sooner we all started planning, the smoother things would be.
Before they moved towards the lift, I grabbed their attention. I had very important question. “Where’s Penny?”
Dad retrieved a small crystal from a compartment in his bracer and placed it gently in my outstretched hands.
I stared at the unassuming shard, no bigger than my thumb. Thousands of iridescent particles were suspended in the clear crystal. “Is she hurt?”
“No, the energy we shocked her with just forced her to go into hibernation mode. It destabilized her body, but her processing matrix is entirely intact. We made sure to gather every last processing node.” Dad put a hand on my shoulder. “Don't worry Kara, I checked. Penny is fine. Well, she will be a bit grumpy and need a new body, but otherwise, she will be fine.”
I clutched the crystal to my chest as we rode up the lift. One less worry weighing me down.
/
All things considered, the meeting in the living room wasn't nearly as awkward as I had feared. One may have thought that having to heal a mild concussion and two broken ribs would breed at least some animosity. But Jor seemed to take it all entirely in stride. And Dad didn't seem anymore bothered by his brother getting injured.
While the men seemed completely unfazed by it, Lara on the other hand kept sending the General death glares. Her hand kept twitching towards a pouch at her side, what was in the pouch was a mystery.
With the way Dru kept tensing each time, he definitely noticed. It was hard to miss considering Lara had made a point of taking the seat right next to him. In perfect stabbing range, of course.
And judging by the flicker of satisfaction on Lara’s face, she was well aware of how uncomfortable she was making him. Lara caught my staring and winked at me. I covered my surprised snort with my cup, pretending to take a drink of water. Who knew sweet unassuming Lara had a sadistic streak?
Once everyone had settled in their seats and Kelex finished providing refreshments, the discussion started. It wasn't stilted or slow, Zod wouldn't allow it to be. He asked question after question, showing that with or without Thinker mods, he was a very intelligent and shrewd man.
“And what is the timeline on the Core reaching a supercritical state?”
“Our calculations say anywhere from one year at worst to four at best.”
Zod paused, “Why such a large range?” It was a fair question given our usual exacting measurements.
Jor shrugged, “The Inner Core isn't a solid, it's an extremely compressed liquid. With how the various metals are constantly moving, it's all but impossible to get an accurate prediction. And the Outer Core makes it even worse by reflecting the energy right back into the Inner Core, skewing the numbers even further.”
Zod hummed in thought. “So, we need to assume the worst and work to get as many people off world in a year as we can. We can still continue the evacuation efforts after that, but we need something before the year is over.”
The room was silent as everyone thought on the matter.
Zod pushed forwards, “Correct me if you believe I am getting the order wrong, or if I am missing something. Firstly we need to either get the council on board or remove them. Secondly, we need to get people off of Krypton. Thirdly, we need to find a method of altering our receptors so we can live outside of the Rao System. Lastly, we need to develop a means of transporting millions of tons at FTL speeds. And we need to do most, if not all of that in under a year?”
Nobody objected to his points. But Lara did raise her hand. “Technically, the receptor issue isn't a priority. In a worst case scenario, we can survive in adequately shielded environments and suits. It would be dangerous, as one accidental exposure could kill us, but it wouldn't be impossible with proper safeguards. Development of an FTL drive should come before it in terms of necessity.”
Zod nodded, reworking the situation in his mind with the new perspective. The discussion moved to how many space capable ships Krypton had, and how many of them were already self-sustaining without any refits. The number was dismally low, almost all of them belonged to the Defence Fleet. And even if we managed to make every single spacecraft and space station into long term habitats, that would only allow us to save about twenty million people.
We would need to build a lot more ships on top of all the refits we would already need to do. Running the numbers, it just wasn't possible. Not in a year at least.
So instead, they shifted from sustainable habitats to cryopods. It would be much simpler and efficient to cram as many of them as possible into a ship. They were easy to print large quantities of, and their relatively small form factors would ensure we would be able to fit far more people into a single ship. Especially the large cargo freighters, those yawning cargo bays could fit a quarter million pods easily.
If we filled every single ship to capacity with cryopods, we could jump from a measly twenty million to a whopping three billion. But that still left a solid six billion people out to dry.
“We could fit the remaining people in cryopods on Argo.” I brought it up.
Dad nodded, “We would have far more than enough room for that. But…” Dad said, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “I don't think we would ever be able to move Argo to a new system with the rest of the fleet. It's simply too heavy.” He looked at Jor questioningly, my Uncle just nodded in agreement.
Lara pointed out, “We wouldn't need to move Argo. We can leave Argo here, then send the fleet back and forth to ferry them to whatever world we decide on settling on. It would only be three trips. It would take awhile sure, but I think they would rather sleep for a few years than be dead.”
“And how long would all of this take?” Zod questioned.
Jor had already crunched the numbers during the conversation. “If we got the entirety of Krypton behind it, for a project this large? Probably five months. Though if we were to use Argo like a long term cryo facility, we would need to give Argo the ability to move, Krypton's end will be rather explosive and Argo will need to be well clear of the blast range. It would be doable, but that would add another two months to the construction queue. Unless we got more hands, but the supply lines and construction yards would already be stretched thin working on all the other evacuation ships for Krypton.”
“And if we funneled all our resources into just the ships, and didn't touch Argo at all?”
Jor ran the numbers with Kelex. “Assuming everything goes perfectly? Two months, give or take a couple weeks.”
“Then we do that. Work on Argo will come after we have a mobile fleet. The priority is getting as many people into space as possible.”
Lara spoke, “Okay, so we have a fleet in space, that's good, but we still need to develop and then make hundreds of FTL drives that carry these ships. More likely than not, we won't be able to do that before the ships are ready. We would need to move a lot of infrastructure into space. Industrial matter forges, with massive quantities of feedstocks just for starters. So if Krypton blows before we finish, at least we have the means to continue working. It would add at least another month, but it's necessary.”
On and on the discussion went. Ironing out kinks, and outright overhauling entire sections of the plan. For the most part, I remained silent, just watching them work. Only occasionally pitching in if I thought of something they hadn't already covered.
Eventually once a plan was tentatively settled on, they moved onto the elephant in the room. Even though it was the most important topic, they reserved it for last, if only so they could get everything else done first.
The Council.
The ensuing conversation was a heated one. Full of raised voices and frayed tempers.
When it got broken down, it was really quite simple. Should we try to reason with them, or should we try to overthrow them? Technically, there had been a third option, leaking the information, but that one had been shot down by all sides early into the debate, as that plan took any semblance of control away and relied entirely on outside variables to succeed. Too easy for the Council to sway or cover it up, the entire premise of the world blowing up was already outlandish enough as it was. We really didn't want to throw the unreliable court of public opinion into the mix.
They both held merit. But we couldn't do both. We had to pick one path. And as it was a decision that everything hinged on, it only made sense it was a divisive choice.
Zod and surprisingly enough, Lara, was for trying to overthrow them. While Jor and Dad were on the other side and wished to try and convince the Council.
When it became clear they weren’t getting anywhere, they turned to me. Either to break the tie or just to hear a fresh opinion.
I balked slightly under everyone's gaze. But I did have an opinion, after all, I had spent the last ten minutes listening to them arguing, doing nothing but forming my own opinions. “I think…-” stopping a moment to gather my thoughts, this was far too important for me to just blurt out the first thing that came to mind “- that Uncle Jor and Dad have a point, that we need to make it as painless of a transition as possible. However, I also think that Aunty Lara and Dru have a point about giving the Council a chance to mess things up is a bad idea.”
I chewed on my words momentarily as they looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue.
“That being said, I think our best bet is to play it close to the chest for now and try to quietly stack the deck in our favor as much as possible before we go to the council. Bring in trustworthy people in positions of power, squirrel away resources and assets, the works. We need to make sure the Council can’t somehow spin this against us. We need an offer that they cannot refuse. If they see they were wrong, great. If they don’t, well, we will have enough support that we won’t need their cooperation at that point anyways.”
Everyone thought about what I had said. Comparing it to their own preferred plans.
Hesitantly, Zod nodded his head. “I believe that is a good enough compromise. What do you say?”
Slowly, everyone nodded. Dad, Lara, then finally Jor agreed. Though he didn't look particularly enthused, but it was an improvement to his response to Zod's initial suggestion of a decapitation strike on the Council.
It wasn't perfect, but it was a start.