True Brilliance

Three people have tracked their 'target' to a spot in the Canadian Rockies and it turns out the dangerous alien they've been hunting is someone at least 2 of them, have no problems with. Now the challenge becomes, communicating to him that they honestly have no problems with him. Their main worry of course, what if he has problems with them? Also the younger of these two individuals, who is actually something other than human herself has an attitude of "I'd rather it be me than him". As far as anything bad happening to one of the soldiers, Jeremiah Danvers. I've been trying to find a way to subtly communicate Nikita's attitude of "if you trust me on nothing else trust this" to the audience without either flat out saying that.

“I'm responsible for this mess, I claim the failure and the fault.” Nikita said, almost warmly. Jeremiah stared in silent wonder as his friend lowered herself to the ground, her head bent, her hands spread far apart, palms open. “Tie his hands together, mine as well if you need it in order to feel safe. But please, don't hurt him.”

“You ask no protection for yourself?” The green-skinned alien said with quiet strength. “You must really care for him. Or is it something more?”

“Hank...Director Henshaw was being his own arrogant, blind, fear of the unknown self when he called you...what he called you. Jeremiah didn't believe it and he had nothing to say about it anyway. For the first time in six years I actually agreed with the...assessment that came out of Henshaw's mouth. It was the simple word that you were a Martian that convinced me Henshaw was actually right about you. I'm the one person at the D.E.O who should have known the difference. And it isn't just knowing there are exceptions and improvements to any given race in the galaxy. And as far as that goes, I can sense the internal motivations and intentions of a person. I am the non-religious version of the discerner of the core and intention of the heart. But until now I always made sure to at least meet the person before trying to figure them out. And the one time I judge a person before even meeting them, I was almost disastrously wrong. There's no reason for any of them to know the difference. I should have. My current 'focus on me not him' attitude is mostly for the fact that I would not have Jeremiah come to harm if I can do anything to stop it...but that isn't all of the reason by any stretch.”

The alien looked at Jeremiah, studying the man's face, seeking answers. “By the very act of buying into Hank's rhetoric, that powerful aliens are by definition a threat, she feels she has failed her own code of honor and dedication to the truth. She doesn't want anyone else punished for what she sees as her own failing. Most especially me.”

"Do people truly have such regard for thier caretakers here? Or are you more a jailer?

Nikita looked up with a smoldering of anger in her eyes. It could not be doubted she'd taken offense at the man's words. “Jeremiah is worthy of my help! Henshaw was the one man responsible for this whole mess and I'm the one who screwed up so completely. Do you seriously not see that? As I said I feel for Jeremiah, with him even but it's nothing he instilled. I doubt he's even aware of it. Regardless, if you hurt him, physically hurt him and I was in the room I'd feel it too. I remember being puppet-on-a-stringed to beat to death an herbivoric kid and it wasn't the shame of what I was doing that hurt me so badly. I felt every blow I gave that creature. I was given back control of myself only in time to watch my hand end its life. And it was one of...what I thought you were...to make me do it.”

The alien was thunderstruck. “Phobos and Deimos. You know the difference?”

“I know that the only Martian I've ever met didn't look or act anything like you. And he was as arrogant and ignorant as Henshaw himself. I know that either of you would be more than a little insulted to be called the other. But I don't know how different you are. Or where the divide comes from. Dangerous aliens are a threat...aliens are a threat because they are dangerous. It's an argument that gets tossed around and a line that gets blurred constantly on our world. Most especially at the D..E.O. "This creature we are hunting is the most dangerous alien we have ever faced. A race even children have heard of and a monster to the simple-minded peoples: A Martian." That's what Henshaw said less than 5 minutes before you knocked him unconscious. So the question I have for you is, are you going to prove me wrong...or prove Henshaw right?!”

 (Slightly updated actually)

“Can you confirm this?” The alien said to Jeremiah.

“I don't know what Phobos and Deimos are. But I can confirm and swear that I would never hurt any one who wasn't an actual threat to someone else. The D.E.O, the organization I work for honestly believed you were a threat. I actually knew of Henshaw's intentions, but he is my commanding officer and I was not in a position to contradict him. I believe in what we're doing, for the most part. And what she said was true – about why I work for the DEO and that I really don't understand Hank's attitude. But it isn't the whole story.”

“Jeremiah, I do not wish to interrupt but we really should be getting under deeper cover.” Nikita said as she slowly stood. “There was a second Thera—support team sent after us. By now they would be very very close behind. We need to find a place to camp for the night. We can sort this out later...please.” This last word was not directed at her comrade in arms but at the Green Martian in front of her.

“Come with me.” The stranger said and without another word he led them both deeper into the wood.

Thirty-minutes later Jeremiah was crouched over a small fire warming his hands. Nikita was reclined next to the fire, her hands propping her up. She looked across the fire to the stranger, who stood a short distance away. “You don't like fire do you?” Jeremiah pondered aloud.

“My planet...burned to death.” He said with clear sorrow. “And it was the Whites who burned it... a very long time ago. There are no more Green Martians, save the one standing before you.”

“I...I am sorry, I didn't know.” Nikita said with sincere sorrow.

“I do not say this in blame of you. If anything I would absolve you of your guilt. In one thing you are wrong. If you have indeed met one of...them before, you had a perfectly excellent reason to expect that attitude from me: your own memories and experiences. You had no reason to think any Martians like me still lived. You are quite right – I would consider myself the last son of Mars, even though I am not the last survivor by any means. Please, do not burden yourself with these thoughts.”

“Thirty-one hours, very nearly.” Nikita said with force. “Neither of you have anything to fear from each-other. Jeremiah believe me you are as safe with him as I am with you. More specifically, you have as little to fear from him. That goes both ways. Please understand that.” Her hand slipped and her head dropped a little. Noticing their concern she shook her head slightly. “I'm not sick, it's just been thirty-hours. My sleep alarm just went off.” She paused and her face grew a glazed over, professional look. “ My people's circadian rhythms are set to a 36, not 24 hour schedule. I can stay awake for 24 hours easily, effortlessly even. But we fall asleep for 5 hours every thirty-six hour cycle, without fail and without interruption. There is literally nothing that can interrupt the time of hibernation that constitute our REM cycles. I've actually developed a 'it's been thirty-hours' kind of signal to let me know I'm falling asleep. And it went off 20 minutes ago.”

Jeremiah stood and faced their host. “There is one thing Nikita didn't say. Nikita is something like an unwilling agent. She's an asset with no other alternative but to help out. 'efficiency is better than its opposite' for her, as she said. But it wasn't always like that. Nikita was a prisoner at the D.E.O before her protective instincts kicked in...before she proved them. Henshaw brought us on missions together because she and I naturally and completely have each-others backs. We trust each-other and rely on each-other in the same was any military or police unit would need to be in the field. But what she did for me, what either one of us would do for each-other goes deeper than that. I say this so you can understand me fully when I say that Nikita trusts you. And if for NO other reason than that, so do I.” He placed his right hand on his heart. “I'm Jeremiah Danvers. You can consider me a friend.” He extended his hand. “It's a greeting and a sign of trust.” He explained, smiling awkwardly.

“I am J'onn Jo'nzz.” The alien said as he reached out his hand and clasped Jeremiah's arm.

...And that was the last thing I remember seeing before waking up in your house.”