19641/In Blackest Day, In Brightest Night: Burn Like My Power

In Blackest Day, In Brightest Night: Burn Like My Power
Date of Scene:	17 December 2024
Location:	The Interceptor
Synopsis:	After detecting strange energy readings on the edge of Sector 2814, a response team heads on the Green Lantern Interceptor and discovers a new and ominous power...
Cast of Characters:	Hal Jordan, Monet St. Croix, Diana Prince, Carol Ferris, Kyle Rayner

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Hal Jordan has posed:
It is not like the anomaly is a particularly large one. Just an errant reading on the sensors, not all that close to Earth at all.

But as a Green Lantern for Sector 2814, Hal Jordan isn't sworn just to defend Earth, even if that's where he spends much of his time. And with the threat of Galactus out there, it doesn't pay to take any chances or leave any potential threat unexplored. Which is why Hal gathered up a few helping hands to help investigate.

Just in case.

Of course not everyone can necessarily navigate deep space quiote so easily or quickly as a Green Lantern. That's one of the reasons why Hal requisitioned the Interceptor in the first place. It doesn't hurt that it is considerably more comfortable then flying around in a big green bubble as well, particularly on some of the longer missions to more far-flung sectors of space.

Being able to have a nap on your way to the destination is highly overrated. Battling those that worship evil's might is a whole lot easier and more enjoyable after a little bit of a pick-me-up.

It doesn't hurt that the Interceptor is designed for speed, being just a little quicker then even a Green Lantern can manage to get around through hyperspace, cutting down what would be a trip of about a day to one of mere hours.

This part of the Sector is a fairly isolated one, with no nearby inhabitable planets or moons. It doesn't mean that it is completely devoid of life of course, but such places with their asteroid belts tend to attract more of the fringe of galactic society. Unlicensed mining operations, scavangers and pirates who use the isolation to hide from more respectable parts of society.

As the ship emerges from hyperspace the starlines abruptly shrink back in on themselves, resolving into little pinpricks of light. A short distance away -- at least as things are measured on a cosmic scale -- a belt of those same, aforementioned asteroids is closest by, larger planet bodies more distant. Out this far, the light from the system's star -- a white dwarf -- is a fairly diffuse thing and the black, vastness of space hangs heavy all around.

By this time Hal has long since taken to the cockpit of the Interceptor once more, the viewports offering an impressive view of... well, admittedly not much except the distant light of other stars. Even the asteroid field is only barely discernable this far out, shadows against an even vaster darkness. But there is something too. A flicker glow, pulsing here and there, and the Green Lantern's brow furrows as he locks in on that, glancing towards the sensor display. "That would be it then. The anomaly is still out there," he says quietly, fingers twitching on the controls.

Still out there. And a great deal more powerful this close, then the mere flicker of strange energy that he picked up before.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
She's never quite gotten used to being in space. From the Shi'Ar invasion, to things through the spaceport, to actions with the Justice League and the Heralds. It's never lost it's beauty and it's grandeur. Something that as they face a possible catastrophe far, far from home..

Is something good for Monet. To see something that is new and that she is one of those precious few whom get to travel and see the starlanes. She's been just looking out the window the entire time, enjoying the stars. The sightlanes of hyperspace, of the transit.. Reviewing the information that thye've been given voer as she goes to turn her way out to scan the readouts from her own position.

She takes a breath and goes to take a breath. "May I have a connection to the sensor console?" She would query over to Hal. "And whatever data that your ring can provide? I've taken the trip here to try and skim as much information as I can on astrophysics and gravity disturbances." Yes, that's also what she's done in a few hours of easy time, putting down the papers she had been essentially uploading.

"I can try to make some sense out of it if there's some natural origin for it." As opposed to some sort of thing created by powers or other. Those she wouldn't have much luck with. But better than nothing. And it would let the Lanterns focus on using their rings for scanning.

Diana Prince has posed:
Sometimes it is nice to not have to drive.

diana had been arriving at the Hall of Justice, when the transport had come to pick up volunteers. She had just returned from a mission, but she immediately turned around and went to join the others on this deep space expedition. Adorned in her armor, covered over by a dark blue cloak, the Princess has been quiet through most of the traveling. Having found a space to seat herself, and having found a comfortable leaning position, with one foot up on the console that was low in front of her, the armored boot of the Princess gently moved, as she held her sword across her bare thigh that peaked out from within her dark cloak. Her sword was out of its scabbard, and Diana was running a sharpening tool over the silvery blade, causing gentle strokes that create a quiet song of metal against sharpening stone. Her hair was loose about her shoulders, flecked with sand from her previous mission, the scent of ocean light upon her, as she had been on the sea shore of a Ivory Coast town, battling monsters that were coming from the tall seasonal waves. It had been a bit of an ordeal, and was making world headlines, by the time Wonder Woman had set out on her next mission, this one taking her to:

"Where are we, exactly?" Diana asked, as she rose up, and slipped her sword back in to its leather sheath upon her back, her cloak falling quietly around her form as she stood up.

Carol Ferris has posed:
Hal had bundled Carol up for this trip, practically swooping down onto her office balcony in his Green Lantern glow. Twenty-four hours into pulling an all-nighter at Ferris Aircraft -- two board meetings, an engine prototype launch, and more paperwork than should exist in the modern age -- Hal's sudden appearance was both a relief and a surprise.

He hadn't even needed to ask twice. The promise of deep space and a chance to escape the crushing demands of her day-to-day life? Of course, she was going. Hal's ship -- not just a bubble, he'd assured her -- meant she could rest on the way. And rest she did. Exhausted and finally off her feet, Carol had curled up in one of the bunks, lulled to sleep by the Interceptor's hum and the knowledge that Hal was, if not constantly at the helm, at least nearby.

Now, as they emerge from hyperspace, Carol steps into the cockpit, refreshed enough to function but still a little groggy around the edges. Her Star Sapphire uniform gleams softly in the low light. She pauses just inside the doorway, one hand resting on the frame as she takes in the view.

With Hal at the controls, Carol steps closer, brushing her fingers over his shoulder as she moves to stand beside him.

"You let me sleep longer than I meant to," she murmurs, no real complaint in her tone. A glance toward the flickering anomaly. "That's it, isn't it?"

Carol hadn't had much time to talk with the others on the ship since they boarded -- Hal was too efficient with his "everyone on the ship, let's move" directive -- but she's aware of who they are. Her gaze flickers from Monet back to Hal, a small, impressed smile pulling at the corner of her lips. "Someone came prepared," she murmurs, tone warm but edged with quiet approval. That's good. Space doesn't tend to reward half measures.

Her own ring glimmers faintly as she focuses back on the anomaly, hand resting loosely on the back of Hal's chair. "I'll add what I can from my end."

Carol steps aside just enough to give Monet better access to the sensor displays, trusting her expertise to make sense of the science. The Star Sapphire ring may lack the vast Oan database, but it doesn't leave her blind. Love has always been a force of intent, and Carol has learned to trust her gut when anomalies come knocking.

"Want me to head outside, get a closer look?"

She doesn't move, likely suspecting he'll protest, but her voice stays light.

"Or do you want me on standby in case something nasty pops out of the dark?"

Kyle Rayner has posed:
Sector 2814 is a little crowded when it comes to Green Lanterns. Also, when one of the Lanterns is in space, there's another still relatively close by. However, sometimes the mission does call for these Lanterns to head to the fair reaches of the sector, or to leave it entirely. Today is one of those times.

"How are things looking out there, Highball?" Kyle's on the ship, just conserving energy for the moment. Plus, it's easier to hail down other potential lanterns from a spot on the ship.

Monet has a few questions for Hal, too. He knows she's dependable in a fight. So, it's nice to see a friendly and dependable ally in this mess. Oh, it's a juxtaposed feeling. Seeing those that normally don't go to space in the seemingly never-ending black sea of stars. Like having traveling companions on a long road, you typically drive alone. Space can be pretty unforgiving

Seeing his sometimes mentor Diana there, is another comfort. He may stand a little straighter when she's around. A mixture of nerves and respect. "The fringes of Sector 2814. The Galaxy, according to Lantern maps, is divided into various sectors. Think of them as jurisdictions. Usually one lantern per sector. Parts of different sectors can be uninhabited. A few are uncharted or forbidden. This is the fringes of 2814, the sector that includes earth. The theory is this is the part of the sector that should be empty. Nothing's charted, but my data might be old," he admits that last part begrudgingly. "Basically, the empty edges before we hit a new jurisdiction."

He looks back to see a familiar pink glow, "How's the better half, Highball?" he asks on the lantern coms again. Or at least, that's what he thought they were. Kyle and Hal are overdue for a debriefing or a drink.

Hal Jordan has posed:
Created from Oan technology, the Interceptor features some of the most advanced technology in the Sector as a result. Just like the sleek craft is almost impossibly fast, the sensors are finely honed and at the request, Hal merely arches a brow and motions for Monet to take a seat and get a closer look at the sensor readings. "Be my guest," the Green Lantern says agreeably.

The sweep of the sensors resolves more and more details, painting a better picture of just what is out there around them, sending in a steady feed of amounts of space dust, of the background radiation. Increasingly the finer features of the asteroid belt resolve themselves there on the scanners as well, a jumble of rocky and icy masses, a myriad of potentially valuable or at least interesting metals and substances detected.

But the most likely source of the unknown power signature? The ship that floats out there, it's power signature minimal either because it is a derelict, because it is in distress. Or because it is trying to deliberately hide.

Even with Monet's attentions, the energy signature that does periodically appear -- spiking powerfully for just a few seconds and then all but vanishing beneath the background radiation readings -- defies easy categorization. Though as the ship creeps closer a somewhat obvious assessment appears on the screen.

It bears closest resemblance to the same sort of energy given off by a Green Lantern or Star Sapphire ring. Emotional spectrum energy. But not in a frequency recorded before.

"You could probably head out if you wanted. I think we will all be doing that before too long," Hal says, flashing a brief smile towards Carol as she joins them in the cockpit. Then his attention is back on the controls, back on the view in front of them as the Interceptor races towards that seeming derelict in space.

For just a moment as they near it is almost like they are back on Earth, the sky lit for just a moment by the reflection of lightning racing through the clouds above and a flicking, yellow glow seems to fill the space around them -- a golden sheet of lightning -- that passes almost before in even manifests, leaving them to slow the approach only as they come up along side that other ship.

This close there is no more question of whether or not the other ship is just operating on minimal power to try and avoid detection. The hull of the rough looking ship has quite literally been cut open, great gaping holes left in the super-structure of the craft, the last few releasing gases visible as discharges, leaking from the ship along with various other pieces of debris.

Including the body that very nearly hurtles into the forward viewport of the Interceptor as they draw up alongside, the alien features frozen in a rictus of agony and visible for just mere seconds before floating out of view.

"I would say that things are looking fairly grim," he says quietly.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix goes to slowly try and track the ship. It's hard to keep a lock on it, even with the sensors and the knowledge of it's rough position. THe way it keeps on fading in and out of scanners has her frown for a few moments over as she evaluates. "Logic would suggest that it is attempting evasion. If it were merely a derelect the trajectory would be stable and along a predictable path relative to us. The fact that it's position is inconsistent and fades in and out of range suggests evasion." In other words, that it's running silent.

"I would presume as well that it has detected us." Even if in all the background clutter of space they stand out, they're still fully powered, and not making any real attempt at using space itself to conceal themselves. She's not interfacing with the communicaction systems to try and hail them - that's something better left to the professionals.

As the Lanterns react and explain that it's an emotional spectrum of an unknown nature, Monet goes to hmm as she reviews the list of the ones that they had encountered so far and were known. Anger, Willpower, Greed, Love.. She would tap her fingers along over in analysis, and glance at the others.

"If I deploy with the rest of you is there a spacesuit that I can wear?" She could hold her breath for a limited amount of time but her body did not handle vacuum exposure nearly as well as many other sorts of those who could fly and were super strong could.

Diana Prince has posed:
Everything that Kyle informs Diana of, earns a look from the Princess. She takes the information in, and glances toward the others to the fore of the ship. When she looks back to Kyle, she gently nods her head a single time, before she releases a light exhale. her right hand, wrapped in leather straps, reaches to brace herself against a ship bulkhead. "It is hard to believe that the Lanterns could possibly keep a feasible amount of updated information on 300 billion star systems..." She quietly says, her voice husky by nature. She showed him a small smirk, at her own words, before she shook her head again. "I am sure they are doing a great job, though. At least, all things considered, right?" She asked.

Traveling space on a routine basis was a new experience for the Themysciran Princess, but with the level of world threatening troubles coming from space these days, it has amplified her desire to cut the trouble off before its head could poke up near Earth. Or, at least, that was the hope.

When the visibly damaged ship comes in to view, Diana has a grimace touch her facial features, and a light exhale. "More death, I fear." She softly says. "We best check it out. Maybe some are still alive, and in need of help."

Carol Ferris has posed:
Carol stands just behind Hal, one hand braced loosely on the back of his chair as she takes in the sensor readouts unfolding across the screen. Her brow knits faintly at the fluctuating energy signature -- there, powerful for a heartbeat, and then gone, swallowed up by the ambient radiation like it was never there at all. She doesn't say anything at first, though the violet glow of her ring flickers in response to the anomaly's faint, unsettling pulse.

Trusting Monet to handle the data, Carol shifts her gaze briefly to Kyle as he speaks, her lips curling into a small smile.

"The better half's doing just fine, Rayner," she replies, her tone light but threaded with focus. "Good to see you."

That attention lasts only a moment before her eyes snap back to the viewport as the Interceptor pulls alongside the derelict ship. The sudden flare of golden energy outside -- bright, brief, and far too unnatural -- sets her on edge. Then she sees the ship itself, gutted and bleeding gases into the void, the damage so catastrophic that it looks like a husk torn apart by some impossible force.

Carol's fingers tighten on the back of Hal's chair as a body drifts into view, grotesque and frozen mid-scream before tumbling out of sight. Her jaw sets, and she exhales slowly, steadying herself against the chill running through her. She's seen worse in deep space, but that doesn't make this any less grim.

"That's... not debris," she says quietly, a note of steel in her voice. She steps around Hal's chair, closer to the viewport as she studies the wreckage. Her Star Sapphire ring glows faintly, brushing across the threads of emotional energy hanging in the space around them. It's weak, almost imperceptible, like a ghost of something that had been there before.

"The energy's emotional spectrum, but it's not ours. Not Lantern or Sapphire. Something else." Her gaze flickers toward Hal, her expression sharp but calm. "It might have been deliberate, whatever hit them. If that's the case, we should assume it's still nearby."

Her violet light lingers faintly around her hands, waiting, ready. She looks back to Diana and Monet, then Kyle. "I'll head out to get a closer look. We need answers, and I'd rather we find them before they find us."

She's already taken a couple of steps away from Hal before she looks back at Monet and then back at Hal and Kyle again. ...Are there suits? The Lanterns wouldn't need them. Is the ship geared for humanoid space-walks without rings?

"If there's not, we can stick together," she offers, a shimmer of violet energy shuddering over the length of her body as if making its presence known. Hal and Kyle could accomplish the same thing, of course, but this is what the Green Lanterns _do_. It's their mission. Star Sapphire tends to take on a support role, anyway, during these kinds of situations... at least until they need the extra firepower.

Kyle Rayner has posed:
"It's never good," Kyle says honestlyw hen it comes to the grim outlook. He sighs a little bit. Then he looks at Monet, "The rings could make her suit. What if one of us temporarily deputizes her? Wouldn't that make her a suit? In theory?" he poses out to the other ringer slingers when it comes to Monet. It's more dignified than a fish bowl.

"Good to see you again, Carol," he gives a smile and then he pauses to see where Carol's gaze goes. Then he looks toward the wreckage. Memories of dead Lanterns fill his thought.

Then he tries to get another gaze out a port to see what lurks. "What do you believe in more Monet, love or stubbornness?" he says trying to use a joke to cut through nerves and tension. Plus, it may narrow down who deputizes the mutant.

Hal Jordan has posed:
If the design and supplying of the ship had been left to the Guardians it is of course unlikely that considerations like suits for non-Green Lanterns would have been considered. Afterall, why would their chosen be working with outsiders? That only tends to lead to trouble.

They also probably wouldn't have built the ship in the first place. What need do Green Lanterns have for things like bunks or food when their rings can provide everything that they need? It is unnecessary and therefore without purpose.

They really are little blue trolls sometimes.

Fortunately Hal and Killowog had a much bigger hand in the design and equipping of the ship. So it has bunks. It has a food supply. And yes, it has suitable protection for those that might not be innured to the vacuum of space.

"there's EV suits located just outside the airlock," Hal assures Monet quietly, bringing the ship into the right position so that they can gain easy access to the other vessel. The boots can be magnatized so they can cling most metals but there is still a thruster system if you become unmoored. Built in lights as well. Hopefully you're not clausterphobic though," he says drily, trying to keep the grim note that threatens to creep into his words at bay as he starts towards the back of the creaft and the waiting airlock.

There are many things that come in handy with being a Green Lantern, with being able to create constructs out of the mind's eye, limited only by one's imagination. One of those would certainly be the fact that they don't near to wait for the airlock tube to extend, for a seal to be formed with the other ship -- not that a seal is really necessary since the other craft has clearly been stripped of any sustainable atmsophere. Assuming it was even fit for the m in the first place.

Instead Hal simply holds up a hand, the green ring on his finger flaring for a moment before a glowing emerald tunnel forms outside the ship, linking the two vessels.

He does pause there, to give Monet a chance to suit up, to nod his agreement with Carol's assessment at the sensor data. "It doesn't regiter the same as the orange energy I encountered in the Vega system so there is the distinct possibility that this is one of the other versions that Ganthet warned us about back on Oa," Hal says quietly.

Even from the most friendly of the Guardians, the one most sympathetic to their cause, the admission that there were other, hitherto unencountered spectrums of emotional energy was a grudging admission.

An admission that may have cost their one true ally among the Guardians a considerable amount of his standing.

"I'd say that whatever version of it that was used here, it wasn't entirely friendly. So be on your guard," Hal urges quietly.

Then he opens up that airlock, revealing the glowing emerald tunnel beyond and beyond that, the void of space. Floating down it's length, his ring flares again, activating the hatch waiting for them there revealing the darkened interior of the now derelict ship. Here and there sparks briefly surge from blackened power conduits -- the loss of atmosphere snuffing out any lingering fires -- and the brief flicker of illumination does not make those darkened corridors anymore inviting.

"This isn't like Alien's at all," Hal says grimly as he steps onboard.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Kyle would get a -glare- from Monet. It was just her default one. Most people got glares from her! It was nothing personal. She was in public after well (well, with other hero types) so she had to maintain her persona. Thus, glaring. Kyle got an appropriate level glare of a 'ha-ha, you're making a joke to ease tension' style. It might almost be amusing to some - Diana would probably nudge her after for this. But the girl says nothing, and then goes over to give a nod to Hal, "Thank you, Sir."

And an EV suit is probably better, technically. It means that the Lantern who's putting one on her isn't having to split their focus to maintain it on her, and that she's not at risk if their construct flickers. She goes to take out the suit and goes to quickly twist her way into it.

"I am not." The reply is -incredibly- neutral over by Monet standards. Incredibly, incredibly neutral. Something that the girl does not want to talk about but is an affirmative that she does not have issues with that phobia. The group goes to approach teh ship, moving to get ready to enter it..

She goes to close her eyes and focuses them, trying to telepathically scan through the wreckage of the ship, frowning.. "I can pick up at least.. I think it's one life sign. It's.. Weak, muted. I think it's a survivor, and it's coming from.. Forward. Probably on the bridge." Of course the muted sensations could be something entirely different.

Diana Prince has posed:
When their ship came in close to the derelict vessel, Diana took a moment to step back to her original lounging place. she swept her cloak off of her shoulders, and draped it over her seat. Her hair was tied back behind her shoulders with a leather cord, and her harness was adjusted over her body, as she turned to see the others gathering at the now ajar hatch, and the passage to the new ship.

"Alien was the superior film." Diana declared, a distracted tone to her voice, as she too looked in to the dark. "The rest have just continued to diminish the power level of the Xenos, and there-by make each one individually less terrifying."

Diana, movie critic. Of course, Alien was her favorite Sci Fi movie, if anyone ever asked.

But who would ever do that?

The Princess dashed through the open hatch way, and held her lasso in her right hand, the coiled rope glowing brightly, providing illumination amongst seemingly heavy shadows. She began to move toward where she believed the cockpit might be, and glanced back toward Monet. "Let me know if we are headed in the wrong direction?" She asked quietly, as she stepped onward, her gaze casting from side to side, taking in the sights, sounds, and even the scent of this ill-fated space faring vessel.

Kyle Rayner has posed:
"Reavers," Kyle says the second they break free of the airlock, clinging to a separate Sci Fi Franchise. He floats down, grateful for the green energy around him. The glow of the energy spreads outward as he floats into the darkened strecutre. All of the shadows add an eerie edge to the ship.

Kyle flicks on the league communicator, <"Com Check. Ion reporting."> he says softly, trying not to stir anything that might linger inside. The ring starts to scan the area as he pushes forward.

<"And I was more of a Predator fan. Alien is far superior than Aliens. That twist with Bishop?> Kyle mimic's a chef's kiss. <"But Predator beats both."> Because everyone is a critic, plus seeing a human side like this from Diana is oddly warming.

Carol Ferris has posed:
It's not like Alien's at all.

"Let's hope not," Carol murmurs, though her tone is edged with focus rather than humor. Hal might be joking to keep the tension in check, but Carol's already bracing herself for whatever they're about to find.

She arches a brow as Diana's calm, measured voice cuts through the tension, offering an unexpected yet oddly fitting critique of Alien and its successors. It's the kind of thing that, coming from anyone else, might have been met with disbelief. Coming from Diana, though, it actually makes Carol smile.

"The Princess has spoken," she murmurs, casting a sidelong look at Hal and Kyle before following Diana's gaze into the dark. "Alien it is."

There's a faint lilt of humor in her tone, but it doesn't linger long. The steady glow of Diana's lasso pushes back the worst of the shadows, and for a moment, Carol allows herself to take quiet comfort in the Amazon's unshakable presence. After all, if Diana's critiquing movies, how bad could this possibly be?

Reavers...

"Not helping," Carol snarks, lifting her eyebrows, then switching over to the comms through her ring.

<< "Come on. We're right in the middle of the holiday season and talking about Alien? How about Love Actually?" >>

Violet eyes flicker towards Hal.

<< "I'll even settle for Die Hard references." >>

But she's already moving forward with Diana, keeping alert, letting the powers of her own ring -- its ability to sense emotions and connections -- perform its own kind of 'sensor sweep.'

Hal Jordan has posed:
There is nothing at all reassuring about this.

It's funny, it hasn't been that long since Hal was throwing himself into a pitched battle against Galactus' Heralds. Since they faced down Morg and Terrax. Since they watched the Devourer of Worlds consume the planet of Tamaran, completely unable to stop him.

And in many respects, stepping onto this derlict craft, creepy, dark and silent is far more intimidating then that. Far more terrifying.

Or it would be if Green Lanterns really dealt in fear. In theory that is one of the prerequisites that the power rings assess when judging the worthiness of someone who might be called to take up the ring, to join the Corps. Whether they are fearless.

Hal is not entirely sure how much stock he puts in that, in all honesty. He's never really regarded himself without fear. You don't do the kinds of things he does, takes the kind of chances that he is known for taking because he is without fear. He would have to be flipping crazy to not have any fear at all.

The real skill is in mastering it.

It probably helps that he he has --arguably -- the most powerful tool in the universe around one of his fingers admittedly.

Just like Diana offers up some respite from the dark by forging ahead of the rest of them, that golden lasso practically crackling as it spreads it's glow, as it pushes back the shadows and the dim, flickering illumination provided by the sparking power conduits, he too offers up the succor of his emerald light, the aura around him intensifying, casting that green glow out brightly as a beacon against the dark.

It is perhaps human nature to retreat towards humor, to deflect in the face of those things that might otherwise cause anxiety. Apaprently some of hte mightiest beings on the planet are not immune to that thought process either. Maybe because, in part, they are not currently on their planet.

<< Look, they all have their points but I think we all know that Top Gun is where it begins and ends. Screw this space stuff, when we get back to the Interceptor I'm putting that on, >> Hal asserts. Because what else is the flying-obsessed pilot going to trumpet as the height of all movedom?

The internal logic behind the creators of the ship does seem to follow some recognizable pattern. More importantly, and perhaps reassuring to all of them is the fact that there are no real signs of the ship being inhabited by Reavers or aliens. No gruesome, bloody displays. Not obscene toems latched to the walls, though there is certainly some hints that the vessel was probably not used for legitimate enterprise.

Before they can reach the vessel however the bulkhead just ahead of them is suddenly shreaded apart. There is a flash of bright, almost blinding yellow and then... a creature simply seems to leap from the wall, all grey and assive, with huge, clawed hands and a maw full of sharp teeth, his face a visage of snarling hatred. A strange black and yellow jumpsuit covers his form and a flurry of glowing yellow mouths, all created with a sickly yellow energy fly around him.

The creature plows straight into Diana, those huge fists beating down towards her, while those yellow fanged mouth-constructs fly towards the rest of the intruders upon the craft.

https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/marvel_dc/images/2/25/Arkillo_Prime_Earth_0002.png/revision/latest?cb=20120804173746

Monet St. Croix has posed:
As they go forwards, Monet is cautious, sweeping ahead with her telepathic powers. She narrows her eyes, trying to track things and get a better idea of what they're moving towards. The mental signs are too light - or too alien for her to get much of a feel and sensation for things. Her arms are up in front of her in a defensive stance, on alert and sweeping ahead over as she would be rather paranoid as she would float forwards.

<<I prefer to avoid such things. All of them are too close to reality for me to find any escape in them.>> That was as reasonable an answer as she could give for why she didn't want to ever go to the movies or watch things on television. But she was also adamant that Hallmark movies were designed as horror themes.

The group goes through the ship, cautiously going forwards towards where the bridge would be and the lack of damage and gore seems a complete contrast to the horror zone that they were expecting..

Right as a giant, mutated alien shark goes to charge towards them, yellow mouths erupting over from him as Monet goes to yell out telepathically to the others <<Scatter!>> She goes to fly to the side, getting out of the way of the other Lanterns so that they had an unobstructed range of engagement with the enemy. She moves to head in behind for a pincer attack. She's not bothering to use her telepathy here - attacking something wielding a murderous power ring out to slaughter them won't have any vulnerabilities. As soon as she's behind it, she's going to try and slam into it's shielding from the rear, intent on giving it a powerful CRACK if she can with her fists. Expecting them to do rather nothing in the greater scheme of things.

She was expecting this thing was on a level where it could fight evenly with Diana and hold off the Lanterns. She had seen Diana throw around World Devourers, fight evenly with Kryptonians and Heralds. Her own strength was rather meaningless. But, she might serve as a bit of a distraction for a chaotic melee between all of them.

<<Suggested vulnerabilities to exploit?>>

Diana Prince has posed:
When the other films are brought up, Diana is forced to emit a soft huff of an exhaled laugh, nothing that would betray the gravity of this situation, but one that registered the silly nature of their group's attempt to keep anxiety levels under control. She glanced back at them, before Hal caused her to smirk. "Maverick was superior to the original." She declared, either encouraging him to be offended, or agree. "It had more of an actual message. Machine replacing man. The original, was... just a shirtless volleyball movie." She said, sighing with heartfelt memory toward that particular scene.

"In fact..." Diana was saying, as they advanced further in to the ship, her eyes turning around, as she stopped, and heard something moving mere seconds before it lunged out of the dark at her.

Her insanely capable reflexes yet again saved her well-being, as she raised her lasso up, and allowed the monstrous creature to run its wide-open mouth directly in to it, rather than her neck! She let the creature gag itself on her lasso, as she twisted around at the force of its momentum slamming in to her anyway. The two spun together, almost in a chaotic dance-like fashion, as Diana did not hesitate to further move to wrap the lasso around the creature! She swept her body around behind it, and used her lasso to attempt to hog-tie it with painfully restrictive force, as she pushed it to the ground, and tried to pin it down beneath her!

She applied a great amount of her strength, to keep the creature pinned to the ground, bonded to her will by her lasso, its golden twine glowing brightly beneath her, as she looked to the others, a concerned expression on her face.

Were there more? If so, she might have to dispatch this one, and move on to protect the rest of her group!

Kyle Rayner has posed:
<"Sisters. Sisters. There were never such devoted sisters. Never had to have a chaperone, no sir."> Kyle says over the com hoping to appease Carol's desire to keep things festive. <"I could sing 'Choreography' if you would prefer.?> Kyle's okay while singing on the commlink. He pauses, <"Mom liked the movie growing up. I can sing half of the soundtrack without warm up. It was always on growing up this time of year,"> he says just trying to keep things positive despite their polar opposite surroundings.

Then he pauses, <<"Who did you recreate the slowmo volleyball scene with, Highball?">> This is a Hill Kyle will die on. <<"And the only reason Top Gun gets any credit belongs to Kenny Loggins. I mean that mov->> yellow light interrupts his words as something comes lancing forward. A spear starts to form in Kyle's hands. Diana would recognize it, one of the weapons at the training grounds. There's no quips, scifi references or otherwise. Just a screw, hidden by the green energy field around him. Then he tries to stab at the construct. "GET OFF THE AMAZON!" A thrust going toward the creation as Kyle tries to match it for energy versus energy.

Carol Ferris has posed:
<< "Oh, hey! It's the motorcycle girl. You remember?" >> Carol's eyes shift briefly back to Hal. << "From Gotham." >>

Did he remember? There was a lot going on, and in fairness, Carol probably spent more time backing up Aisling than Hal did. They'd all worked pretty well as a team that day.

But then there's the mention of Top Gun.

<< "Maybe we can set a new record." >>

Carol's playful words are, themselves, innocent enough, but there's something in her tone that makes it sound... well... not so innocent.

Then Diana's making the AUDACIOUS claim that Maverick is superior, and Carol actually lets a laugh slip past her lips.

<< "Hold your tongue, Hal. I'm pretty sure she can kick your butt." >>

And who better to make that claim about Diana than a Queen of the Amazons, herself? Err... Zamarons. Queen of the Zamarons. Ahem.

Unfortunately, the playful banter doesn't last long.

Carol's ring flares with a sudden burst of violet light as the bulkhead explodes, shards of metal screaming through the air. The flash of sickly yellow energy twists her gut in an instant -- this isn't just any creature. Fear lingers in the air like a poison, thick and sharp, as the massive, grey-skinned beast barrels forward, slamming into Diana with a force that makes the whole corridor shudder.

"Yellow light?" Carol snaps, voice sharp as she pivots on her heel to take stock. Her eyes narrow against the swarm of jagged, glowing mouths streaking toward them, each a grotesque construct of raw, weaponized fear. Her violet energy lashes out in a quick defensive sweep, a ripple of light that cuts through the oncoming constructs and shatters several into harmless wisps.

Carol's gaze snaps toward Hal, locking onto his familiar green glow as he braces for the incoming storm. << "Top Gun will have to wait, flyboy," >> she quips tightly, violet eyes blazing as a new mouth construct streaks toward her. She doesn't even hesitate, whipping her arm forward and forming a massive crystalline spike -- sharp, deadly, and swift. It pierces the construct midair, shattering it into sickly yellow fragments that scatter like glass.

Her attention flickers to Diana, who's already trading blows with Arkillo, holding her ground like only Diana can, and her violet light flares, forming a net of interlocking crystal thorns, designed to snare and shred any construct that comes close to the others.

<< "I'm on crowd control." >>

Hal Jordan has posed:
"Oh now you've gone and done it," Hal asserts, eyes glinting under the green glow that envelops him as they move through the ship. "Remember you brought this on yourself."

And then the real horror movie starts, because Hal starts to sing. "~Plaaaaaayin', plaaaaayin' with the boooooooys..." he offers up. In space, maybe it is strue that no one can hear you scream. But alas, thanks to the power of the Green Lantern Power Rings it is very much possible to hear you sing..

Kyle gets a wink at his question -- Hal knows who he'd be picking to play beach volleyball with, though she might not exactly fit with the song -- but fortunately -- or maybe unfortunately given the nature of the interruption -- Hal doesn't get out any more of the lyrics as that bulkhead all but dissolves under the startling entrance of the hulking figure in grey, black and yellow, the sheer savagery as much a part of the shock as its sudden appearance.

Fortunately Diana has the reflexes of, well, an Amazon which might be the only thing that savors her as the creature tries to bring those impressive jaws down on her neck, it's efforts thwarted by her quick reaction. And her lasso.

But as she goes to truss him up in turn, he proves to have his own tricks up his sleeve. For all his appearance of a raving monster, there is clearly something more to him and as that golden lasso goes to wrap around him it is as if dozens of miniature little car jacks -- probably not that specifically, but it certainly looks like that -- suddenly manifest all around him, the yellow energy constructs actually holding that lasso at bay.

The creature bellows, spittle flying from it's mouth and just like the Green Lantern rings allow communication, it seems that the thin yellow band that encircles one finger of the monster seems to do the same as the sound seems to fill the corridor -- or at least their heads.

The creature strains forward once more, those fearsome fangs reaching for Diana, when Kyle's blast plows into it, driving him backwards under the emerald onslaught.

Back, but not down. That emerald beam almost seems to break on the creature's massive chest and it turns that maddened gaze Kyle's way.

Hal might not react quite as quick as Diana, but his own response comes only moments later, joining Carol in trying to deal with those flights of fanged, yellow mouths that soar towards them, those energy teeth looking ready to gnash and tear. In particualr Monet would seem vulnerable, the possibility of them ripping into her EV suit particularly dangerous and Hal throws up and green shield to try and lessen that chance.

Which the teeth simply tear through like it is barely anything at all. Freakin' weakness against yellow. Why did it have to be yellow energy of all things?

Fortunately Carol's purple energy blasts are much more effective, mowing down those constructs as fas as they can spawn.

"Vulnerabilities?" Hal asks, eyeing the creature, the yellow constructs that seems to appear almost as fast as Carol can destroy them. "I suggest just focusing on not getting eaten."

Hal Jordan has posed:
Unfortunately the odds do not significantly improve as a dozen or so glowing yellow chains suddenly fly through that gap in the bulkhead, lashing out and seeking to tie up the Star Sapphire amongst them. A moment later another figure emerges, thios time a blue skinned woman, her uniform in black and yellow a variation on the beasts, though glowing yellow bracers bind her to a book as well, staring down at them with haughty disdain.

https://i.pinimg.com/originals/13/b2/e8/13b2e863557c0b9ec2aab2c2d57d9c23.jpg

Nor is she the only one as a moment later another figure soars through the opening as well, a brilliant yellow beam of energy proceeding him, hammering into Hal's chest and sending him flying, his eyes widening in shock. "Abin Sur?" he says in disbelieve, the figure the spitting image of the alien Lantern who chose him, out of all the people on Earth to succeed him into the Corp.

"Amon Sur!" the younger man howls, voice thick with fury. "That is my ring you're wearing!"

https://comicvine.gamespot.com/a/uploads/scale_medium/2/25835/1053327-green_lantern_17_pg_16_and_17_by_drewdown1976.jpg

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Woman of indeterminite species (possibly Kree?) using a book of unknown nature that she is restrained over to. Monet had plenty of experiences when it came to unknown things wielding books of things that should not be known and should not exist. She had fought against them and alongside them several times. She didn't know if that was magical or not.. But she had some tricks of her own when it came to brawling with those whom held disdain. She wasn't directly under attack even as she goes to fall back as Hal puts up a shield at her, rapidly withdrawin and knowing well the risks. She wouldn't be teh one to make the team vulnerable..

But, Lyssa Drak. Monet goes to focus over on the book. And to the book, and then to Lyssa, she goes to try and move for a mental assault the likes of which would be something that would bem ore on the Terran side of existence over than anything else. That hopefully for the twisted Lantern looking over on them so wretchedly. Monet goes to try and broadcast one of those things that she had seen far too many times.

The book's pages would, in her illusion, snap shut. The borders of the book turning into a harsh leather binding, of blue'ish alien skin twisted together and stapled. A breathing, cycloptic face with a thick leathery optic upon it closed. Straps and chains about it in the same color of the ring.

As the battle continues and LYssa looks at them so dismissively, Monet tries to get the next level of the illusion (if she can bypass the woman's no doubt extensive defenses) to have the book's single eye suddenly snap open. The chains and bindings upon it would rip as the tome bound in the flesh of LYssa's species would scream, razor sharp teeth like that from the movie that had been the popular purpose of discussion snapping out of it in tendrils.

It would scream and howl in a familiar refrain, like that of the damned. Those times spent fighting vampires, Baron Mordo, down in Hell wtih Illyana.. If Monet can, all of those sensations are channeled into the book that is attempting to swallow Lyssia whole, over in this telepathic assault as it screams.

<<I'LL SWALLOW YOUR SOUL!!>> It would screech, the 'tentacles' going to slam over her wiht the intent of devouring her and reducing her to eternal suffering and consumption! Desperation, madness..

Well, what would happen to such a Lantern if they were terrified most of all of themself?

Carol Ferris has posed:
Carol doesn't flinch as Hal's voice fills the corridor, warbling Playing with the Boys in an entirely inappropriate yet on-brand move. She might've smiled if the moment hadn't immediately shattered with Arkillo's thunderous entrance.

The yellow chains come next, hunting like vipers through the air. One lashes toward her ankle, but Carol twists sharply, violet light flaring as a crystalline shield shatters the construct mid-snap. They recoil, only to strike again as the blue-skinned woman steps through the breach, black-and-yellow uniform stark against the chaos. Carol's gaze locks onto her immediately -- cold, calculating power radiating from her like a warning. And then comes the blast. A second figure -- Amon Sur -- erupts into view with a beam of sickly yellow energy that sends Hal sprawling to the ground.

Carol's chest tightens. "Hal!"

Another chain streaks toward her, and her crystalline whip lashes through the air, sharp and precise, slicing clean through one of the yellow chains streaking toward her. The shards scatter like glass, dissolving in a flash of violet and gold. Another chain follows, then another -- relentless, coiling and striking like snakes. She pivots, light flaring around her as a barrier rises just in time to shatter two more.

"Come on!" she snarls, violet eyes blazing as she pushes forward. She doesn't see the chains coming from behind.

Two wrap around her ankle, jerking her off balance. The whip flickers as she stumbles, just enough for another chain to loop around her wrist, wrenching her arm back. Carol growls, her violet light flaring in response, pushing hard against the constructs trying to bind her.

"Not a chance," she spits through gritted teeth, her free hand crackling with energy as she shreds another coil reaching for her torso. The effort costs her, though, and her focus splits for just a second -- just long enough.

The chains swarm her all at once.

They snap around her arms, her legs, her waist, pulling her down to her knees with a harsh, metallic clatter. Her glow flickers and strains as she fights, violet energy seething against the sickly yellow light. She tries to rise, tries to pull free, her muscles straining as the chains constrict tighter, but they only bite deeper.

"No!" Carol shouts, voice cracking with fury as her energy flares one last time, brilliant and defiant -- but it's not enough.

The whip in her hand finally shatters, and the violet glow around her dims as the chains pull taut, leaving her trapped, breath ragged. She lets out a raw scream of rage, violet light flaring wildly around her as if refusing to accept the defeat.

But the chains hold fast.

Diana Prince has posed:
Combat against a Lantern of any color, was not a task that Diana really wished to jump in to. This creature, displaying the powers of a yellow Lantern, was a bit of a mystery to Diana. she knew what Hal was willing to divulge about them all, Kyle and she having never talked about it in any measure of detail. But in this instance, in this moment, she was close enough, and annoyed enough now, to attempt to rapidly move in a way that would ultimately benefit her, and her companions.

Which is to say, as the others distract the snarling, mouthy, creature; Diana whips out a shining dagger from behind the small of her back. Themysciran steel, the dagger is slightly curved, like the claw of a dragon. She drags it across the creature's hand, right above where that yellow ring sits beneath a joint in the creature's hand. Intending to slice the finger, or fingers, from the aggressive attacker's hand entirely,m the Princess moves with a graceful precision.

Was this her plan for all Lanterns who crossed her? She'd never talked about it, if so.

Maybe she wasn't even sure if it'd work?

She's going to find out though.

Diana makes that cutting swipe, her lethal blade, sharp and deadly, strikes in a blur of motion, before she spares a glance at the newly arrived.

Kyle Rayner has posed:
Seeing a mountain of a man standing before him, Kyle breathes out. He's still holding the the spear construct in his hands. The Diana is going for that finger. Pulling out the themysciran steel. It takes him a moment to realize what Diana is going for. A second later that spear vanishes and a lance of energy goes out from the ring and tries to wrap around that massage wrist. Trying to still that hand. Make it easier for Diana to move. It's barbaric, but this is a smarter tactics since the man looks to be the hybrid of a snake and hippo's head mounted onto a professional body builder's body. A mountain of an entity that would be just as hard to bring down.

Hal Jordan has posed:
Could there be a worse opponent for a Green Lantern then one who wields the Yellow Emotional Energy spectrum?

Shields that are overwise verging on impenatrable are suddenly vulnerable. Constructs that could stop a space ship suddenly struggling to hold back even the most routine of threats. It would be a nightmare for some members of the Corps, even with those plenty of experience in the field in all likelihood.

But this is why it pays to not just be without fear, but practiced in overcoming fear instead.

Not for the first time, Hal is extremely grateful to Ganthet, for defying his fellow Guardians, for sharing the hidden truth with them. That the power rings are vulnerable to yellow makes a great deal more sense now that they know more of the truth about the varieties of light out there. About the power of Fear.

Still, as Hal is hit by that yellow blast, as he is pummelled back he struggles to prace himself, his power ring flaring brightly for a moment, conjuring up a large green rock behind which he gains a few precious seconds to catch his breath as the son of Abin Sur batters away at it. Frightening in his intensity? Perhaps. But it does feel like the man might be better served by one of the red rings.

Not that Hal can rest of long of course. He weatches as his own plight serves to be just enough of a distraction that Carol can't hold back that new onslaught, as those dozen's of glowing yellow chains find their way through her defenses to latch on, to drag her down to her knees in front of the smirking blue-skinned woman.

As the last of his rocky protection is carved away, Hal abruptly stands up, arm outstretched and that brilliant emerald glow enveloping his fist, leaping outward with startling force as a giant cattle-catcher forms and plows outward, slamming into Amon Sur, knocking him back before continuing on towards Lyssa Drak. "I have a sneaking suspicion that Abin Sur wouldn't be terribly proud of you. And you can have my ring when you pry it out of my cold, dead hand," he growls, eyes lifting towards the woman with all the golden chains. "And as for you..."

Not nearly so bound up in her rage, a fine golden line, mere millimeters wide, lashes out from Lyssa's ring, slicing right through Hal's construct leaving it to dissipate. But before she can launch a counterattack, Monet is there, launching her own psychic assault, trying to utilize fear against the blue-skinned woman.

It is an... unlikely choice, but it seems to startle her just enough that the bonds that bind Carol slacken, just for a moment. But it provides an opening.

Then Lyssa's faze hardens once more, that mocking, smug-superiority now mixed with a gleam of anger as she turns her attention towards the mutant. "You dare to try and use the power of Fear against one of us," she sneers, more chains seeming to manifest out of nothingness, launching towards the other woman now.

It would seem that sheer physical might and a little teamwork might just be the answer and though the sheer strength of Arkillo strains against Wonder Woman, the power of that green clamp on his wrist, trying to hold it steady adds enough to the mix to restrain the beast, that knife slowly, inexorably slicing forward, seeming to struggle for every inch as the protective aura inherent to any power ring resists Diana's efforts. But slowly, that blade tastes flesh for the first time, a bloody line beginning to appear where she starts to slice into his finger.

Then another voice calls out of the darkness beyond. "Enough!" it orders. Amon Sur stares daggers at Hal, but as he picks himself up he doesn't launch himself back at the bearer of his father's ring. Lyssa Drak sneers at Monet and Carol both, but those chains drop away, receeding back to the woman and the book that she clutches close. Even Arkillo's rage seems to dim, though he still resists the effort to slice through his fingers, the bellows dying away even if he still shows his teeth. Soooo many teeth.

Hal Jordan has posed:
Then the figure responsible for the sudden ceasation of hostilities floats through that tear in the hsips hull, hands tucked behind his back. The greatest of the Green Lantern Corps, friend and mentor to Hal Jordan, and sometime ally to the Justice League. No longer dressed in green.

Instead Thrall Sinestro hovers there, his expression grave. "I told you I would find the power to help save your planet Hal Jordan. I told you I would find a way to surpass even the Guardians and their pathetic, mewling attempts to bring order to the Universe," he says, lip curling just a little.

"I present to you the new Corps. My Corps. The greatest of the SInestro Corps. Arkillo. Lyssa Drak. And Amon Sur. Even WIll breaks in the face of Fear. And together, we will make our enemies fear us."

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet's attack does little, but it surprises Lyssa for just a moment.. Which might have left an opening under better circumstances as the melee continued. But even as Carol was snapped down and restrained, and Monet is charging forwards once more to scramble and swing while Lyssa was taunting her..
    A restraint would snap over her wrist, anchoring it behind her back like someone had grabbed he rpalm. Another to her foot, then to her other knee. A twisting, crunching of a restraint around her waist, forcing her other hand down to her side. More chains snapping over her mouth, forming a muzzle and a gauntlet. A final one going to crush down on her head. A helm almost like that in a twisted way Magneto or Juggernaut might have. One completely negating her psionic abilities, blocking them. And Monet feels fear.
    Monet knows what fear is. She has felt it a great many times. She has her own personal demons, her terrors, her traumas. And she is thrown into them once more as she goes completely still, almost cataonic at whatever she is facing as Lyssa ties her up with a proverbial bow as Sinestro arrives.
    No snippy comeback, no taunt, nothing thrown in his face.

Diana Prince has posed:
Diana had hoped to remove the finger quickly, and had no real desire to saw at the creature's digit. Thus, with enough resistance applied, a bit of blood brought forth, and then the arrival of a commanding presence, that seemed to instill some measure of yield in to the beast... Diana stepped back.

She kicked the creature, right in his ass, as she steppped back, though, intending to kick his ass right across the space before them, to push him away from her, so that any spinning moves of retribution would hit only air. Plus? Kicking him was fun.

She twirled her dagger around in her hand, as she turned to the man speaking of his new team, spinning the blood glistened blade in to a reverse hold, so it was poised... ready to be utilized at a moment's notice.

"We are not here for a fight." Diana interjects herself. "Though, we will not shy away from one. We wish peace, and answers to our questions!" She commands in her own style, her words spoken with a forceful intention behind them, as she glances to Kyle on her right, and the others in her group, just beyond him.

Carol Ferris has posed:
Carol's chest heaves, breath ragged as the yellow chains slowly unwind from her limbs, loosening their vice-like grip just enough to let blood flow again. Her violet glow flares erratically, pulsing against the sickly yellow light as her ring hums in response to the overwhelming presence of Fear -- twisted, weaponized, alive.

The words -- Even Will breaks in the face of Fear -- echo through the chamber, punctuated by Sinestro's grave, curling voice. Carol's head snaps up, violet eyes locking on the figure hovering beyond the tear in the ship. Sinestro.

Her jaw sets, the rage bubbling under her skin as her aura flares brighter, violet energy leaking like cracks in glass. For all the arrogance in his words, Sinestro isn't wrong. That yellow light had nearly brought her to her knees. Had.

The chains withdraw entirely, falling away like brittle husks. Carol's knees dig into the cold, broken floor for just a moment as she clenches her fists, her ring's glow swallowing the trembling in her shoulders. Then, she rises, the violet light of her Star Sapphire ring burning brighter than it has since the fight began.

"You want to talk about Fear?" Her voice rings out across the space, clear and sharp as cut crystal. "Let's see how you handle this."

She raises her hand, her ring blazing with a blinding surge of violet energy. The air around her hums, vibrating with something raw and ancient, a primal force clawing its way free. The light spills out from her, coalescing into a shape -- massive, serpentine, and alive with a sharp, predatory beauty.

The Predator.

It surges out of her ring with a roar that vibrates through the ship's hull, violet energy taking the form of a monstrous, spectral beast. Its eyes glow like twin stars, and its body -- almost draconic, with jagged crystalline edges -- snakes through the air, coils so massive they blot out parts of the view between the ships. Razor-sharp wings stretch wide, scraping the edges of the space, its energy nearly brushing the Interceptor's hull as it circles the battlefield like a guardian risen from the depths.

Carol stands at its heart, her violet aura merging with the Predator's own, its energy feeding into her like a tidal wave. The beast's head swivels toward the Sinestro Corps, fanged jaws opening wide in a soundless snarl as it dares them to come closer.

"Your Fear means nothing to me," Carol growls, her voice edged with fury and power. "Not when I have Love."

The Predator coils around the group protectively, its sheer scale and force of presence overwhelming. The yellow light dims slightly, as if recoiling instinctively from the raw, unyielding love pouring off of it -- love weaponized into something vast, dangerous, and defiant. Carol's gaze locks onto Sinestro, her lips curling into a hard smile.

"You think you can break Will? Let's see if you fair against Love."

Kyle Rayner has posed:
Kyle's construct fades when Sinestro speaks. Seeing who the mastermind is. Looking back to Diana, "This is like Athens and Sparta. Pick which one you think is worse. That's the team in yellow," Kyle knows it's not that cut and simple. He's trying to convey why everything is tense, escalated and everything else in this moment.

Hal Jordan has posed:
All things considered, the power of Fear doesn't really sound like something that they particularly want on their side. That doesn't seem like a particular good thing.

But then they are staring down the threat of Galactus that looms a little larger ever single day. The threat that Earth itself will be consumed like so many planets before it, given up to the endless, unspeakable hunger of the Devourer of Worlds.

Before today, Hal has always counted Sinestro an ally. Perhaps a somewhat tempermental friend, but definitely someone you want to have at your back in a pinch. And while he might have traded in the familiar green and black of the Green Lantern Corps for the yellow and black of the -- did he really name the entire Corps after himself? Hal's always know that he has had a bit of an ego, not entirely undeserved but really? Naming an entire Corps after yourself just seems a little... meglamaniacal.

And it's not like he is exactly surrounding himself with the nicest people quite clearly. Lyssa Drak moves to hover at his side, still looking so very superior, still sneering down at them. Amon Sur crouches, the rage in his eyes, etched on his expression practically a palpable thing as he stares fixedly at Hal, leaving no doubts where that hate is focused.

Even Arkillo who abruptly goes flying across the corridor of the ship as Diana kicks him hard, tumbling end over end until he pops back up to his feet, as he bares those teeth towards the Amazon Princess. "Next time, I taste your blood," he hsises, his words a low rumble that seems to practically resonate right down to one's bones.

But if Sinestro expected them to roll over in fear, he is in for a disappointment, perhaps moreso when Carol gets back to her feet, that surge of rage foreshadowing the unleashing of her ultimate weapon, of the avatar she carries within herself as the Queen of the Zamaraons. The Predator. The manifestation of Love. That raises it's own concerns of course, nor is it particularly reassuring as the glowing violet creature curls around them.

But better to have it on their side then against them.

But it does not seem to have the effect that is intended. If Sinestro is afraid, if he is even nervous, he gives no sign of it. Instead his eyes almost seem to gleam with a certain anticipation as his otherwise, impassive, haughty features sweep over the two Lanterns and their assembled allies. "Not, I think, today," he offers up simply.

"Think on it Hal Jordan. You find the Guardians every bit of a disappointment as I do. And unlike them, I keep my promises. I swore to find the power to help you save your world, to defy the Devorer of Worlds. To bring order -- my order -- to this galaxy. And the manifestation of that promise stands before you today," he adds, sweeping his hands wide. As if he is proud of the three monsters he has assembled. As if he is proud of the ruin he has brought to whomever inhabited this ship.

"We leave, for now. But my Corps will spread throughout every Sector in this galaxy. You'll see. Oh yes, you'll see."

Then, a quartet of yellow lights seems to stretch out and the three members of the Sinestro Corps along with their leader streak off, back into the depths of space..

Diana Prince has posed:
The threat from the creature, garnered a sideways look from the Princess. She only reacted to his threat, with a little upturn of the corner of her upper lip, a small sneer, mocking and silent. She looked back to that of Sinestro, her eyes watching him carefully.

The declaration of needing his help to stop Galactus, does raise a dark brow above Diana's left eye, and after the confident man takes his team, and departs, the Princess turns to face her own group.

She looks between that of Kyle, and Hal, her lasso clutched in her left hand, her dagger in her right. "Can they help?" She asked, but she didn't expect an answer here and now. Instead, she glanced around the interior of the ship, and shook her head. "Let us scan this place over, and if needs be... blast it from afar. I see no reason to leave whatever may be aboard it, for pirates, or opportunistic star scavengers..." She said, as her dagger blade was wiped across the side of her gladiator skirt's blue leather, then slipped back in to the sheath on the small of her back.

"We may need the help of questionable alliances, though, should we find no other suitable options..."

Carol Ferris has posed:
Carol watches silently as the yellow light fades into the dark, Sinestro and his forces streaking off into the void like streaks of venomous lightning. The Predator's massive form circles the wreckage, its violet glow casting rippling shadows across the ruined ship as it coils and unfurls through the vacuum like a serpent on the hunt.

She raises her hand, the faintest hum of energy crackling as she calls to it, her voice low, calm, and commanding. "Stay close," she murmurs, coaxing the construct to glide in slow, deliberate arcs around the Interceptor and the derelict vessel, as if daring any would-be threats to come crawling back from the dark. The Predator snarls soundlessly, its crystalline wings slicing through the silence of space like blades, but it obeys, drifting into a watchful patrol that feels as much like a warning as it does protection.

Carol lets out a slow breath, violet light still faintly shimmering around her form, but it's dimmer now -- more a pulse than a flare. She casts one last glance toward the empty stretch of black where Sinestro vanished, a weight settling in her chest. Hal had once trusted that man. She had trusted him by proxy. Seeing him like this, smug and dangerous, leaves a sour taste in her mouth.

Turning, Carol finds Hal, the familiar emerald light surrounding him -- a grounding presence amidst the chaos. She moves to him without hesitation, the edges of her energy still flickering as she seems to float into his space. Without saying a word, Carol tucks herself in against his side, resting her head lightly on his shoulder, as if the reassurance she needs -- that he's okay -- can only come from being this close.

Her voice is quieter now, almost a murmur. "Top Gun's looking better by the second."

The faint humor in her tone doesn't quite erase the tension that lingers in her frame. The Predator coils lazily through space beyond the window, a guardian waiting for a threat that may yet return. Carol doesn't relax completely -- not yet -- but for now, she lets herself breathe, grounded by the emerald light of the one she loves most in the universe.