17129/HUNGER: The Blackest Night

HUNGER: The Blackest Night
Date of Scene:	10 February 2024
Location:	Taurus A, Perseus Arm, Milky Way Galaxy
Synopsis:	A delegation from the Justice League and their affiliates discover the scene of a Green Lantern massacre in the Crab Nebula. Who is responsible? And what will they tell the Green Lantern Corps?
Cast of Characters:	Hal Jordan, Clark Kent, Kyle Rayner, Meggan Puceanu, Diana Prince, Jean Grey, Donna Troy, M'gann M'orzz
Tinyplot:	Hunger

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Hal Jordan has posed:
If one were to ask the Guardians of the Universe, there are 3,600 sectors and 7,204 Gren Lanterns to keep the peace therein. Sector 2814, with its 138 civilized and settled planets, is more than enough work for Hal Jordan and the other Lanterns who call Earth their home. That's why it is so chilling when an alert came through like he'd never heard before. One that he'd only ever heard mentioned in passing during his training years ago:

Code Two: Immediate back-up requested. All Lanterns respond.

Green Lantern business though it might be, he'd put out the call. He was part of the Justice League for a reason, and even Hal Jordan understood that a problem that needed every available Green Lantern could probably use all hands on deck. It was a scramble as the request went out through a a number of different channels, with those who had answered gathering at the Atlantic Starport. The Ring could propel not only its wielder, but a few passengers through artificial wormholes allowing travel across parsecs in a matter of moments.

Not to mention there were others with their own (invisible) means of travel.

The trip is a strange one. Over almost before it starts. The travellers find themselves, either aboard the Invisible Jet, floating under their own power, or suspended in a handy sealed platform constructed entirely of emerald green energy, amidst the remnants of a supernova many eons gone. The pulsar winds that form the Crab Nebula as it is known on Earth look very different here. It's almost beautiful in the array of blues and oranges that stretch out like some insane spider's web.

It is made less so by the battered and mutilated bodies of dozens - perhaps hundreds - of Green Lanterns floating still in the vacuum.

Clark Kent has posed:
The flowing cape, trademark hair style, deep blue eyes, physique and the S on his chest tells you who this man is. Superman stands quiet, his hands across his chest, waiting for the show to get started. Trusting Green Lantern's instincts after years of experience with the man, Superman waits to be briefed.

After the initial meet up, and Hal's report, Superman is ready. Taking his position with Hal, he allows Green Lantern to propel him into the wormhole and deep space. That was when the scene hit him. "By Rao..." The scene was awful and tragic. "Hal..." His words go unspoken, but the emotion was there.

Kyle Rayner has posed:
Kyle hears his ring go off. He pauses. For a moment he thinks this is more New Krypton Business, but this is serious. Slipping on the League Channel, "If any Leaguer with space travel is able meet at these coordinates," and he'll rattle off the location given in the message. "It's serious," and he may not have talked to many, but the jovial nature of his voice is gone completely.

A second later his voice clicks over to the titans signal, "Anyone with space travel, you're needed," again the coordinates. "I'd say 'Code Red' if it was on base. Lantern out," he -never- calls himself Lantern like that over the com. Something is serious.

This begins Kyle's journey out into the sea of stars. He'll switch over to the Lantern signals, "Lantern Ion of Earth. How bad is it?" oh, he knows this is going to lead to conversations later. Punishments can come later, helping the galaxy comes first.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
The League might not accept one John Constantine's help, given he's drunk and currently up to his eyeballs in acrid smoke, ridding a school of poltergeists and other degenerate ghosts. He isn't big on space ghosts or space. It's the missus who answers the request, ever bright and ever malleable. Winter makes her the least cheerful of her aspects, bone white hair starting to show gold at the roots.

The means of how to show up really aren't too much of an issue, since a certain House of Mystery really likes to dump her where she is needed. "Not the supermarket this time!" is a rather pleased statement uttered to herself, right before her body decides radiation and oxygen are no longer essential to function. Her physiology just adapts, obliterating fae DNA for something that can exist happily in space.

Distant stars and a whirling pulsar add a gorgeous visual element, but the dead bodies leave much to be desired. Her mouth tightens in dislike, and she gives the slightest shake of her head. When Superman himself deigns a sight is bad... what can she add, other than grim regard and her chatterly nature silent? The others feed her mood, and that too earns silence. f

Diana Prince has posed:
Though the Lansinarian Morphing Disc is capable of FTL speeds, rarely has Diana taken it out that far from her home star system. She wasn't comfortable leaving Earth that far behind, but some times duty called one to do just so. After gathering up those who needed passage aboard the angelic-styled craft, they had set out from Earth, and rapidly gained speed until the bright sphere of Sol was left far in their wake.

Diana wasn't flying, one of her Amazon sisters had that honor, with two of them seated at the helm, monitoring the glowing displays that hover in the air before the viewport out in to space.

The jet moved with a smooth grace through the stars, navigating toward the designated coordinates, and upon arrival, is when Diana's left hand touches the back of the pilot's seat, to stare over her Amazon sister's shoulder, out in to space. She hears the voices on the comm network, but simply speaks in with only "Wonder Woman here."

Jean Grey has posed:
Jean is definitely carpooling. Well, spaceship pooling. She has her own (heck, she IS her own...) parked a hangar over at the Starport, but this is better for the environment! Less fuel. Less stars eaten. Gotta be conscious of that stuff, these days.

It's also an opportunity to catch up a bit. She and Diana may not be teammates, but they are both team leaders, and that means they like to keep in touch, keep current with one another on all the happenings of the hero-world. It also tends to be a nice excuse to visit and have a glass of wine. In fact, they were doing a bit of that, albeit well before the alert and subsequent scramble and trip. Don't drink and interstellar drive, kids!

Or it would have been an opportunity. Turns out, it's a very quick trip when you go by wormhole, out to the beautiful *checks notes* Taurus A, wherever that is. Some part of Jean, in fact, does know, but it's not really the conscious portion. With the trip really not that long for the distances covered, she's only really just gotten settled in to one of the very comfy, shifts to conform to one's buttocks morphing-disc supplied seats by the time they arrive. She'd never admit it, but Diana definitely has the cooler toys!

Once they're there, she gets up (goodby comfy butt-morphing seat!), going to peer out through the conveniently made-transparent material of the ever-changing vehicle. Her eyes widen - maybe at the sight of the pure stellar spectacle first, and only afterward the slaughter. "I don't know a whole lot about the Green Lantern Corps, beyond the basics you've told me and speaking with John a little, but... I can't imagine that the sort of threat it would take to do that is anything to take for granted."

Donna Troy has posed:
    Kyle's call on the Titans channel gets a response from Donna to inform him she'll be there. Afterwards she switches over from the general emergency channel to direct a message to Kyle's T-Com on a private channel: <<Hey Kyle. I know things are a still a bit uh... up in the air with you and the corps. From the sounds of it, people will probably be too distracted to worry about it, but if you end up needing a character witness or whatever, I'll be there.>>

    Donna is quick to meet Diana at the Starport and get on the Lansinarian disc for the trip over from the Orion-Cygnus spur to the Perseus arm, but after greeting her sister and fellow passengers she spends most of the journey there quietly checking her armor and weapons. She's clearly expecting a fight.

    "Nicely understated," she remarks to Jean's comment, virtually the first words she'd said since the journey had started. "Though given the last time we ran into a large number of Corps members they ended up changing sides half way through I wouldn't discount the possibility of civil strife just yet."

    Donna gives her armor a final check over, checks her sword is firmly scabbarded and her lasso is ready, then dons a breathing mask. "Anything on sensors that could have caused this?" she asks. "Or are we here to look for survivors?"

M'gann M'orzz has posed:
M'gann likewise has a ship capable of interstellar travel, but given that the bioship is not the fastest of vehicles, she leaves it parked at the Starport where it can interact with any other sentient or biologcal ships at port. Taking advantage of the instant travel the portal provides, M'gann will fly through, shunted across the space between to exit into a horrific sight. Not the first she's seen, not even the worst she's seen. But it doesn't make it any less a tragedy.

A hand comes up to her mouth, eyes wide as she views all the bodies floating through the vacuum of space, "This is.." She shakes her head and turns away, lips pressing together before drawing in a (pointless) breath so she can let it out slowly, using the act to steady herself. Turning back, she clears her throat and offers, "I can reach out.. see if there are any life signs, any emotional patterns.."

Hal Jordan has posed:
"Don't say anything," Hal says through gritted teeth, glaring out at the slaughter arrayed before them. It is said he feels no fear, and in a moment such as this it is true for all he feels is rage, "Not a god damned word."

There's no reason to be mad at Superman. He's possibly the most good and honest man Hal has ever known. But with nothing to vent his rage at, it is flung at the nearest target. The words reach those others present through their comms, the Ring dutifully broadcasting his words along whatever wavelengths might allow him to best be heard.

The observation platform floats along mournfully behind the Green Lantern as he approaches the scene of the massacre. His eyes narrow behind the domino mask he wears, floating orbs of flash-frozen blood of all hues evaporating against the shell of green that surrounds him and allows him to live in this most hostile of environments.

Kyle's voice comes clear from the ring on Hal's finger, but he doesn't answer. It simply provides a homing signal in a sea of cold viscera for the younger Lantern to follow and come upon the small group himself.

Injuries appear to be caused by a bladed weapon, chirps Hal's ring impassively, Detecting trace energy signatures. Energy signature -- REDACTED -- present.

"Redacted?" Hal growls, glancing down at the glowing weapon, "What the hell do you mean redacted?"

Directive Five-Seven-Tensor-One: The Guardians may, by dictate, obfuscate information as necessary for the safety of Oa, the Green Lantern Corps, sentient lifeforms, or the Universe in totum.

"Spread out," Hal demands of the group, his voice sharper than it need be, and then nodding to M'gann, "Do it. Look for survivors. But be careful - whatever did this might still be out there, and it's ... no joke." The last words are added lamely. They hardly convey the threat of something or someone that could so readily cut through a veritable army of Green Lanterns before help even had time to arrive.

The sensors pick up nothing except that strange energy signature. Unfamiliar, yet trace elements of it from billions of years ago exist in the vacuum. Almost as ubiquitous as hydrogen, yet hideen beneath the surface. Something one would not even think to look at until the Ring pointed it out.

That, and a hundred pinpoints of light amidst the haphazardly strewn corpses. Bursts of green. They take to the air, assailing the group like meteorites as they rocket away into the depths of space at speeds approaching the speed of light. The rings of the slain lanterns, seeking new bearers.

Clark Kent has posed:
Superman frowns. "I understand Hal." Superman was, Superman. He does understand and was there as a punching bag if necessary.

Hearing the comments over the coms, and floating in space, Superman can't help but feel sad at the massive loss of life. His vision powers were already searching for survivors like Donna suggested, but there was very little sign of life. No heat. No breath. No life. It was a shocking sight and tragic.

"This is incredible. Nothing I can see at this point Wonder Girl. Ms. Grey is right. Everyone stay frosty." Hal was doing a great job as the leader. "Whatever (or whoever) killed these Lanterns may still be here. I'll take point with Hal, everyone else should form up and be ready. I know you are all feeling the sense of loss, but we are here to do a job. We can mourn later."

Clark's eyes look over at Diana and Donna as they sound off, so glad they were both here. He nods, and notices Meggan as well. A confident smile acknowledges her presence. He then moves forward to float near Hal while hearing M'Gann comment about sensing anything. "Be careful." Lastly, he says, "It's bad Ion. Really bad." As the rings of the slainLanterns move to find a new Lantern, Superman shakes his head. "Rest in Peace."

Kyle Rayner has posed:
Hearing Donna get on the personal com, Kyle nods before speaking. One of those odd force of habit things everyone does. "I'd like that. I'm sure it'll kick a hornet's nest. Maybe it'll do more healing than harm, Donna. I'll keep your offer in mind," and his voice holds a small measure of happines. Sadly, that's the only happiness during this trip.

Kyle sees bodies floating in space. Having scene horrors first hand, it allows Kyle to go clinical. He'll float to one person then begin to scan. "Give me identifiers. Everyone deserves a proper memnorial. Tell me anything that sticks out," he speaks adn the voice isn't quite cold, but it's logical. Compartmentalizing it all: 1. Get the names of the victims. 2. Follow protocol for notifications. 3. Gather them for a proper send off.

The threat is possibly out there. Kyle knows that, too many people are going to be scanning for the threat. He's concerned. The ring will give him any possible readouts would give him any note worthy bits.

There are questions, but people rea asking them. So, it just allows him to focus. The guard is definitely up though. One question lingers on Kyle's mind: Is this accidental or intentional?

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
M'gann's presence normally would bring a delighted grin out of a fellow Meg (and empath!). Alas, comfortable wormholes, comfortable seats, and comfortable familiarity with a few League heroes and heroines barely dent the solemn reality of the occasion. Matters grow only darker as she takes the initiative to float forward.

Superman's senses are not the only one reporting losses and few miracles amidst the debris. Tangled strands of gas in the far distance form an uncanny backdrop to orient against. Gold energy trails after her when she flies like a drunken bee presented with too many flowers. Which hotspot to focus on first? The energy signature over there, the emotional well over there, the raw noise in the background?

"Someone here experienced intense anger. Unbearable fury that left a bloody mark on space," she raises her arms to shape the general direction, as if that would help in the boundless black saturated in the streaked verdant sparks.

She looks over her shoulder -- in case. Kyle and Hal are purposeful; her logic is anything but, and the information relayed back probably doesn't make much sense. "The bit of energy diffused everywhere doesn't seem to be all clumped up too much. Something else, something really nebulous, is... here, but it isn't space or rocks. I'm not sure what it is, really." Her nose wrinkles. "I'd rather not look peer into the opposite wavelengths."

Diana Prince has posed:
Wonder Woman's eyes rest upon a display between the pilot chairs, a holographic image being constructed by the Jet's computer systems. It provides details toward what is being seen outside, and the horrific nature of it is enough to keep Diana silent. There are no words for what is seen out there, and for a moment she looks out the starboard side of the jet's canopy windows toward Hal, as she can hear the restrained rage in his voice.

When she looks back again, her eyes go to Donna, and to Jean. "Jean, can you sense any living minds out there?" She asks quietly as she turns toward the passenger area of the jet, and moves to gather up her golden helmet.

"We can bring anyone aboard that needs transport." She finally says in a soft voice over the comm network before she places her shining golden eagle helmet over her head, and turns toward the front of the jet once more.

"First we recover, then we find out what did this."

Jean Grey has posed:
Earlier, before their departure and as part of whatever minimal preflight process, Jean had compliantly started putting on the first half of one of the space suits kept aboard. It's largely a meaningless gesture in the grand scheme, but for her, a ritual of normalacy: sticking to the little human things (like... breathing air) to help _stay_ human. Now, she goes and collects the helmet that matches the rest of the suit, fastening and sealing it.

When it's done, she goes to the airlock now readily supplied by the ship, passing into the chamber, waiting as it depressurizes, before floating out into the darkness. Though she's worn the suit, she doesn't bother with the small thrusters on it, using her own mind instead. If anything, telekinesis feels easier, almost more natural out here in the void, without gravity fighting back at every instance.

She floats gracefully out toward the scene of the massacre, not further commenting on the scope of the tragedy, and readily putting her mind to assisting with the efforts at discovering any survivors, much as M'gann has offered and as Diana now asks of her. However, in truth, it's not what most holds her attention. Perhaps she's a little less optimistic about finding anything.

What is fascinating to her are those cosmic mysteries, the energy, which she can feel against the backdrop of more common radiation types, those strange elements, and the mysterious behavior of the rings themselves. Or rather, of Hal's own ring in specific.

<<The X-Men ran into this before,>> she offers, reflexively choosing mental communication between the group, than worrying about radios or the like. <<Well, we- I wasn't there, not, in a conscious, corporeal sense anyway.>> Some part of her thoughts flinches, and she pushes on. <<It's not important. But John Stewart's ring did the same thing, refusing him information.>>

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna doesn't hang about, and is quickly out through the airlock to investigate more closely. Though space is big and there's not a whole lot even sharp Amazon eyes can do out here compared to technological scanning, it seems only right to look more closely, more personally. These were warriors, fighting for what they believed was right and good, and they deserve that.

    Her body armor is black enameled metal decorated with lines of silver stars, the construction showing recognizable characteristics of the Amazon crafts but combined with distinctly un-Themysciran armorweave materials and a style quite unlike the Amazon tradition. It looks more at home out here amongst the stars than it does on Themyscira, though the shield on her back and the sword at her hip are as incongruous as expected.

    Though with these Lanterns showing signs of being victims of bladed weapons, perhaps not?

    Donna's armor looks more like some kind of armored space suit than traditional Amazon fare, but it's not pressurized or vacuum-proof, and the breather mask seems hardly space-worthy. She no longer questions why it appears to be enough; Donna has spent a lot of time in space by now and magic is weird. Though she has in that time met a perplexing variety of alien life forms, the orange-skinned Lantern who's corpse she has flown near to investigate is not a species she's familiar with. Battle-wounds though, she's no stranger to. This one looks like he died quickly -- a single brutal wound passing clear through the torso. Purple-green blood has frozen into a cloud of ice crystals that glimmer in the light, shot with fine filaments where the flow has frozen in place like tree branches, a macabre echo in miniature of the gaseous splendor of the nebula that dominates the sky.

    She moves on, without reporting back any details of this first corpse. There's nothing telling in what she saw, and raw feelings don't need further poking. Not far off she sees a pair of bodies orbiting slowly around each other. Both the same species; another she couldn't put a name to, though she's seen some before. She cannot be certain, but there's something about the difference between the two bodies that suggests one is male and one is female. The implication of this fact, and their proximity here together in this dance of death, is one she prefers not to contemplate. The wounds tell her that one of these had died quickly, but the other hand not been so fortunate. Definitely not something to contemplate too closely.

    A ring floats purposefully through space not a huge distance away, a glow-worm like dot in the night. She glares at it in baleful challenge as if she blames it for what has happened here, but does not interfere with its mission. On to check more bodies.

    <<Whatever happened here...>> her voice finally crackles in over comms. There's a brief pause. <<Was brutal,>> she concludes. <<I have yet to see anyone who survives. Perhaps... perhaps we should be recovering the bodies of those who did not.>>

M'gann M'orzz has posed:
M'gann nods to Hal and takes up a seated position in mid-space, ankles crossed, knees, up, with the backs of her hands resting on her knees. As she opens her mind and extends her senses outward, she also fades towards intagibility, floating, eyes closed (though that is more of a symbolic gesture than anything). The intagibility is to allow the rings to simply pass through her form as they zip and zoom all over the place, seeking their new wielders. She even wishes them luck in passing.

As her senses continue to extend further, her mind touches on another, faint, barely conscious.. but alive. Her brows furrow as she focuses in on the mind reaching out to it, offering comfort, compassion, and a promise of rescue. Without another word, M'gann unfolds from her seated position and streaks through the space, a barely visible blur, passing through debris and bodies in her hurry to reach her goal.

When she finds them, it's a curious thing. What looks like an orange head without a body, just arms and legs growing directly from the overlarge cranium. She can make out the pulsing glow of its ring, helping to keep the creature alive. Drawing the creature in and surrounding them both within a telekinetic bubble to keep any of the seeking rings from striking them. She'll start back towards the others while urging the creature to hang on.

<<I have a survivor. It is badly injured. Wonder Woman, if you have a medical bay, please prep it. Otherwise I will need to get it to the bioship.>>

Hal Jordan has posed:
Kyle's ring dutifully names the deceased lanterns, registering them with a pleasant chirp that seems ill-fitting given the grim situation. The information is shared with Hal's ring, and the names that come up on display give him a moment of pause and deep, abiding grief.

Tomar Re of Xudar, Sector 2813 - A man with a beaked, bird-like head and orange features. His mouth open in some final command, completely bisected across the middle.

Ch'p of H'lven, Sector 1014 - A creature that appears to be a larger version of an Earth chipmunk in Green Lantern attire, much of his body charred to a cinder by an energy blast of some sort.

Aa of Stoneworld, Sector 904 - A muscular, bald man with grey skin and a uniform and mask similar to Hal's. Only the upper half of his body seems to remain.

Sodam Yat of Daxam, Sector 1760 - A dark-haired man who looks human in every respect, same for biological differences only visible beneath the surface. His features are handsome and youthful, preserved for eternity now.

The list goes on, each name belonging to that of a storied Green Lantern with a long history of service. All will be remembered on Oa, of course, but the loss is still incredible. Hal pauses a long moment by Tomar Re, his face a mask of sadness mixed with intense fury.

"Whatever it was, it might still be here. We need to set up a cordon and -- "

M'gann's announcement of a survivor draws Hal's immediate attention. He moves quickly from the body of Tomar Re, arriving at the Martian's side. He recognizes immediately the Noc'sagian Galius Zed, the size of a short man but looking much like a head with arms and legs. The flickering green bubble around him extinguishes itself once M'gann captures him in her telekinetic bubble, and he breathes a shuddering sigh."Xaos ... " he gasps, "It's going ... "

Then he lapses into unconsciousness, and Hal clicks his tongue against his teeth in frustration.

"We need to get him to Oa. The Guardians have a better chance of understanding Noc'sagian physiology than we do. Kyle ... Ion ... I need you on my six. Scouting mission."

Kyle Rayner has posed:
"Are we sure he's a survivor?" Kyle floats along toward M'gann and Hal. Then he nods to Hal, "You got it, Highball," it took Kyle a little bit to udnerstand military lingo. Between Hal and John, Kyle did catch up.

"Tomar, Sodom, Aa and even Ch'p. Lots of names out there, Highball," he says looking to the floating corpses. He pushes past the emotion, that's a luxyry no one can afford right now.

"Superman's probably the fastest here, he should do some scout checks. Along with telepaths. Don't scan the bodies," he pauses for a moment and looks toward the bodies. "What if these are manhunters? Can a telepath sense something missing a mind? Is it a black moving mass in a sea of emotion or thought? Like one giant projection because it's an absence of anything." That's a questionquestion Kyle has wondered. Can a telepath snuff out an A.I. because it's just a black mass moving on a colorful canvas that's a swirl of human thoughts, emotion, etc.

Clark Kent has posed:
Superman remains in a supportive role, doing the scout checks as requested. "Sounds good Kyle!" With a small salute, Superman uses his super speed to do just that. Reporting back if he finds anything of interest.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
The universe has many lifeforms in all shapes and sizes. An encyclopaedic variety around them would normally fascinate Meggan, and she really does come to a total halt to stare at the orange being that M'gann manages to snare.

An encouraging nod will have to take the place of thumbs-upping the woman or something else out of place. Winter's claws are still too tight, even this far from home, to allow that casual cheer. "Is there anything odd about their makeup? Like it's not inorganic or the like?"

The question flies from her lips before she stops to consider the faded spark of life amongst stronger ones. Her hands clutch her upper arms in a tight embrace, pulling at the vast thoughts shooting off in as many unpredictable directions as the rings were.

Donna's words still remain in her mind, steadying in a strange way. The woman's voice is stable and certain. Jean offers a mirror to anchor to, and therefore she settles on trying to reel in too many choices to one thing.

The words follow not very long after. "I can heal. Magically. If they aren't so far gone I could give them a fighting chance." Ice recedes in a sigh, leaving her tone distant, still crackling with the borrowed sorrow from others. "Bit dicier if they are inorganic or not alive but the principles work mostly the same."

Diana Prince has posed:
The request for a medical bay earns a slight nod from Diana toward the co-pilot of the Jet. The Amazon woman seated there is fast to move to her feet, and pass behind Diana toward the passenger area of the jet's interior. It is moments later that the passenger area's furniture begins to melt away, and is quickly replaced by the trappings of a fully functional med bay. The Amazon woman pulls a pack of first aid materials from a storage space, and begins to prepare them.

Outside of the jet, the streamlined shape of the craft shimmers in to view, as the invisibility mode is deactivated, allowing the cloud-hued daggerlike shape of the ship to be seen by all of those outside of it.

From the top of the jet's hull, the wings of Diana's armor appear, moving with a flourish of motion, they carry Wonder Woman through the hull itself, its connection to Wonder Woman's mind allowing her to phase through the top of the ship, and out in to space.

On golden wings, Wonder Woman flies toward the direction of the survivor, helping where needed to guide them back toward the jet's open hatchway. "Any, and all, medical aid is welcome, for those who have managed to survive this atrocity." Diana's voice sounds out back toward Meggan.

Jean Grey has posed:
<<The planet is in Shi'ar space now, under quarantine,>> Jean continues, vaguely in her own world. <<They call it M'Kraan - we never got the original name.>> John did, in fact. <<On the surface, it's a ruin, of some eons-old, hyper-advanced civilization that wiped themselves out somehow.>>

The woman continues to drift untethered through the black space, idly turning to watch as one of the many rings shoots past her, beginning it's journey off toward whatever future bearer. Maybe, probably, Hal knows all of this already. Though how the Lanterns grappple with the internal conspiracies of their secretive, diminutive patrons, she doesn't know.

But she knows one thing. <<One of ours was able to translate the alien language, even when the ring wouldn't.>> As with Donna's suit, magic cheats. Magik, also. <<They were doing research there, on- well, I don't really know how to describe it. A crystal matrix that contains our own universe? Or blueprints for it, at least. A cradle to resurrect reality.>>

<<If what happened here is anything on that scale, of technology or power...>>

Does any of this matter? Jean's mental voice itself is distant, as if her thoughts aren't even entirely with the task of relaying this information. Indeed, it's only with some lag that she responds to the other telepath among them finding a survivor. What ostensibly should have been the job she's focused on.

<<Maybe,>> she answers Kyle. <<It depends on the context. If a seemingly moving, living person doesn't have thoughts, sure maybe they're a robot, or an illusion, or maybe they just have a psi-blocker on. If a rock doesn't have thoughts? It's probably just a normal rock. Absence of evidence, unfortunately, can be hard to qualify.>>

Forewarned, she keeps her mind's eye peeled. She doesn't even know what a 'Manhunter' is (other than the friendly one), but if a Green Lantern is worried about ambushes from killer robots playing possum, she'll take the threat seriously on his word alone.

Donna Troy has posed:
    There are at least as yet no signs of anything to fight, but that doesn't mean there's no work for a warrior. Amazons are not squeamish, perhaps because they're used to appending 'unless absolutely necessary' to the typical superhero mantra of 'we don't kill'. There's nothing visible for her to punch, she's no medic and she's not as fast at scouting as Superman, nor has Meggan's magic or the telepathic abilities of Jean or M'gann to help with quickly finding any other survivors. Instead, Donna sets about collecting bodies.

    Collecting bodies, or indeed any objects, is different in space than it is on a planetary surface. Here there's no real concept of a place to stack them; everything is relative to everything else. Instead it's about moving them into proximity with each other and then getting them to match the vector of velocity closely enough that wherever they may drift relative to any other thing in the universe, they don't drift very far from each other. Simply pushing isn't enough, because once you've got them where you want them you then have to decelerate them so they don't simply carry on in the same direction. You may have to move around to another angle and give a bit of a push there too. It's delicate, rather than heavy, work.

    <<They should /all/ go back to Oa,>> Donna says over comms. <<The ones who are past saving can at least be returned to their homes for their final rites. I am gathering bodies at a broadcast marker.>>

    She falls silent for a minute or two as she continues to work methodically, then returns to the airwaves with a less somber and more business-like report of what she has observed. <<Many of the corpses show signs of thermal damage. Some kind of energy projection. Plasma weaponry perhaps, or something similar. Not as pinpoint as laser injuries I think. However the most common injuries are slicing with evidence of powerful impact. I'd say a curved blade. Perhaps a pole-arm of some type, though the damage spread from the center of impact looks axe-like to me. If so, large axes. Very possibly large assailants. There is a considerable commonality of wound patterns that implies a close commonality of weaponry. I'd say the attackers were using identical weapons, suggesting a uniformly equipped force attacked the Lanterns here.>>

    There's a moment's pregnant silence from Donna on the comms. <<That or there was a single blade, and a single enemy combatant is responsible for all of this.>>

M'gann M'orzz has posed:
"My morphological physiology allows me to take on the properties of his. I can provide him with both the physical and mental aid he requires, but I will need somewhere to do it. He may not survive a journey to Oa," M'gann offers to Hal, glancing briefly towards the others. "Everything I could provide in terms of assistance to you, someone else here can, as well. Better to ensure his survival so he can recount what occurred here."

It isn't so much that she doesn't believe Oa could help him, more that she's concerned for Galius Zed's immediate wellbeing, and she knows her own abilities better than anyone. She would rather ensure they can get a full picture of the devastation from a survivor.

She nods to Meggan, maanging a weak, brief smile for the offer of healing, "He is organic, living. And the aid would be greatly appreciated." She follows Diana towards the ship with the injured Lantern still held within the telekinetic bubble. Asiding to Meggan quietly, "We really must meet again, at a better time and place. I have missed our talks."

Hal Jordan has posed:
"That's part of the job," Hal says to Kyle, exhaling slowly, "This was a fight. They were doing their jobs, and we're both gonna make sure they're remembered. But for now, the mission comes first. Focus." Does that mean there may be a trip to Oa in their near future?

The Green Lantern nods in agreement with Kyle, watching as the red and blue blur takes off to inspect the bodies. None but Galius Zed live, though it is enough to confirm that most if not all of the victims have been collected in the area. The question from his opposite number earns a shake of his head.

"Doesn't seem like Manhunters ... for one, there's no decommissioned parts floating around. I won't believe that Tomar Re didn't take at least a few with him if there was a fight. This was something else. Something the Guardians aren't talking about."

Meggan's question earns a frown from Hal, who shakes his head apologetically to both her and Diana: "The Guardians ... no, who knows how they'd react to you using magic on him. The ring'll hold him for now. That's the best we can hope for. That, and to get him back to Oa straight away. I don't want him dying because those little blue sons of bitches considered him tainted. Do what you can for him but no magic."

His expression is pained as he floats in the direction of the gold-armored Wonder Woman, looking to her and then past her to the ship.

"I can send you and Superman to Oa. It'll be an icy welcome, but if they'll trust anyone it's you two. There may be something they can do for everyone here, even if they look gone. Ion and I are going to investigate Xaos ... "

Typical Hal, volunteering to fly off in the direction whatever perpetrated this massacre is believed to have gone. He clutches his hand into a fist, the ring glowing as he extends a hand towards the jet. A glowing beam strikes the nose without damage, transmitting the coordinates for a single jump to the strange world of the Guardians.

"If you can, meet us there but getting the dead and dying back to Oa is important. Troia's right - they need to all go back."

Kyle Rayner has posed:
"Machines upgrade. No matter the context, they always updgrade eventually," Kyle's quick to point that one out. The standard model he wouldn't expect to do this kind of damage. However, there could be an upgraded model that goes beyond their wildest nightamres into this hellish nightmare they're looking at.

"Troia's always the one with a good head on her shoulders," Kyle concurs. In his mind, if anyone's leading the next generation of Leaguers, it'll be Troia. That's just his very biased opinion.

"How do we make sure our colleagues are gathered safely. And we don't know how they may interact with anyone here," Kyle just wants to make sure somehow something doesn't make anyone sick. He's not sure of the physiology of all the vairous races. Xenomorphs have an accidic blood. Any enyzime could do anything, or everything, to human DNA. He just wants to make sure no one gets sick over it. And they don't exactly have a space coffin. Well, Coffins.

"Will their rings tell us anything? I know they're finding new hosts, but anything like a body cam?" he hates making the cop anology. Sadly, sometimes it's a little too on the nose for his comfort. So, he has to ask.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Meggan raises her shoulder a notch, and only that, accepting the dismissal and in turn dismissing it with a definite opinion about Oa's standards caught behind her teeth. This will be why her trickster warlock in chief will ever survive the universe's demise or some horrific throw of the dice, and she won't.

Sometimes you have to carve your name with a bad attitude to get by.

"I'll not," she assures Hal, and continues to pursue the course Diana takes to that outright incredible ship. Hard not to be awed even when witness to several very impressive experiences - the Crab Nebula among them - because frankly, that's a piece of stunning technology.

She at best can ease M'gann's way to bring the grievously injured Lantern to a safe space, in the event anything is stupid enough to jump out in proximity to another Lantern, Jean Grey, two Amazons, or Superman just to harass the White Martian. Her contribution may simply be getting in the way first.

"We should," she adds, her eyes ticking back to M'gann and the vestiges of a smile blooming. It's bound to be much brighter in a month and a half. For now? Not a hope.

Diana Prince has posed:
With the survivor being delivered directly to the Jet, Diana's golden wings spread out, causing the Princess to spin around her own ship, coming up to the entrance of the vehicle. She places her right hand upon the side of the now-visible jet, ushering M'gann through it with the injured ring bearer. Her eyes go back toward where Hal is located, then toward Meggan. No magic.. This draws a moment to frown upon the facial features of Diana, before she gently nods her head softly.

At the words of leaving to the Lantern homeworld, Diana nods her head, her wings drawing in around herself again, as she follows M'gann, and the injured one, in to the ship's interior again.

"Very well. We are preparing to leave. If one is to come with us, make haste." She says, as she marches toward the front of the jet, in to its control cabin where she takes the now empty seat, her wings folding around the back of her chair, glinting in the jet's soft interior lighting. Her helmet is removed, and set upon the console to her right, as her eyes glance to her Amazon sister on her left. She nods once softly toward her, signalling the jump to be made.

"We will see you all soon, when you make it. Stay safe in the mean time." Wonder Woman's voice softly speaks in Themysciran accented English over the team's network.

Jean Grey has posed:
The 'little blue sons of bitches' comment definitely catches Jean's attention, because it's... instructive, as to some of those lingering questions about the Green Lanterns and their patrons. She can jot down 'not huge fans,' somwhere.

She observes the rest, silent for a while, her odd tale apparently having reached its end, albeit without any satisfying conclusion. Donna makes what sense can be made of visibly senseless butchery, and she cocks her head slightly in the retelling. If you'd asked her to guess what sort of weapons might have been deployed for such a space massacre, plasma weapons might have rated, but axes and polearms wouldn't have made her Family Feud top five answers on the board. But a weapon's expert she is not. <<One enemy, or an army... it's interesting to imagine which answer is worse. Could the weapons have been energy constructs?>>

Unintentionally, she may be suggesting that it was other Lanterns, even if she's only drawing on her _own_ abilities, here.

But then, it seems, it is time for all their company to part. <<I imagine the rest of us can stay on the jet, even if we would not be well-received,>> she suggests, starting course back toward it. But there is a parting thought: <<That is, if the Lanterns are set on pursuing without backup.>>

Ultimately, while this isn't her first brush with space politics, these are not the ones she knows. So she plays by whatever rules are given.

Donna Troy has posed:
    <<There are too many bodies to transport on the disk Diana,>> Donna broadcasts back to the ship. <<Either we're going to have to drag them behind the ship or we can point the Oans to this location. If they don't take too long sending a recovery mission the bodies won't have drifted far from the beacon, and at least the vacuum keeps them well preserved. Perhaps you could reconfigure the disk to create a net though?>>

    Donna's own experience of the Oans doesn't exactly fill her with trust either, especially since the affair on New Krypton, so her answer to Jean is on point even if Jean hadn't been exactly explicit. <<I can't rule out energy constructs, but Lanterns are about the least likely group to leave identical wound marks. Constructs can take a huge variety of shapes and this looks very much like a single shape to me. If this is a civil war, then there are a large number of rogue Lanterns out there very intentionally disguising what they're doing. There has been some tension in the ranks recently but... I don't think that's what we're dealing with here. >>

    <<One is worse, to answer your question. A few hundred space axe-men capable of defeating a large force of Lanterns sounds bad, but that gives scope for divide and conquer. Dealing with them one at a time wouldn't be so bad. One giant axe-man who can defeat this many Lanterns though? That's not someone I'm eager to meet.>>

    Corpse-moving duties complete, Donna makes her way back to the Disk, throwing a salute in Kyle's direction as the Lanterns speed away. Once she enters the ship she takes off her breathing mask and sits down with a sigh. "Our Lantern friends may have a slightly too rosy view of their Oan bosses. I am far from convinced that Kal is in their good books yet. GL's whole 'If there's anyone they'll trust' thing might be misplaced, given the Oan attitude towards Kryptonians. We may need to rethink that..."

M'gann M'orzz has posed:
M'gann reaches out to lay a brief but sympathetic touch to Meggan's shoulder when her offer of magical healing is rebuked. She offers that wry, knowing glance. It is certainly not the first time either of them would have been stymied by another group's belief systems. And she very much appreciates having her friend's presence on this journey.

Looking to Diana, M'gann will follow her into the ship, careful with the fallen (but living!) Lantern. As soon as they have him settled into the medical bay, M'gann will place a hand on Galius' forehead so she can get a feel for his physiology, letting her own slowly start to shift and change to match his. It's going to get weird. Matching the Noc'sagian physiology has her morphing into one herself.. albeit green-skinned. She becomes a short, squat, very wide head with three stubby legs and two arms. She retains her own costume, which shifts to fit her new 'body', and she keeps her red hair as well. Because M'gann's gotta Megan.

Once the shift is complete, she'll set up a transfusion kit so ensure Galius gets the fluids his body needs, while keeping a hand to his forehead, using the telepathic connection to ensure the Lantern is able to rest. Keeping his mind at peace and untroubled during the journey to Oa, allowing him the time to start healing.

<<Speaking as an alien... it is generally preferable to not arrive on someone's doorstep pulling a sack full of their dead in your wake. We can do what we can to keep them contained and at the beacon, and they can portal their people back, I believe. Much like Hal portaled some of us here.>>

Hal Jordan has posed:
Hal would provide instruction, but he's already leaving with Kyle. The two Green Lanterns setting off to another part of the galaxy, and it would seem into the jaws of whatever beats caused the Massacre at Taurus A. The last sighting of them is a green burst of light in the distance, making the jump to Xaos.

The bodies gathered and Galius safely stowed aboard the Disc, the time comes for the Oan Delegation to depart. The vessel's navigation systems find the strange world, oddly absent from the sort of star charts more readily available throughout the Galaxy. The Guardians defend their homeworld well, and the Corps are not in the habit of sharing it.

Whether the bodies are left behind or brought with them, the trip is a quick one. Oa itself hangs suspended like a strange green jewel, the landscape seeming desolate and abandoned save for great centers of urbanization built in green stone and metal. The atmosphere is abuzz, bursts of green light coming and going.

Then, out of nowhere, the comms system beeps. A signal not from the strange, ancient world ahead but from the Starport back of Earth?

"Your Highness," a voice asked in Themysciran, one of Diana's sisters readily recognizable as an Amazon named Kyrha, "I apologize for interrupting your mission but you are needed back at the Starport. There's been an unscheduled arrival."

There's a pause. Many light years away, on the backwater world of Earth, a dark-haired Themysciran looks out at a landing pad with a dozen ramshackle vessels clustered together on the tarmac. Hundreds of aliens of all kinds mill about, several of them bearing hastily-treated injuries and speaking in a wild cacophony of languages.

" ... quite a number of them."