“Mon'el are you alright?” Nikita asked her friend from across the room.
“I think so. Where are we?”
“The deserts of New Mexico. Beyond that, I really couldn't tell you.”
“Who would bring us here?”
“That answer is forthcoming.” A female voice said from the shadows.
“Please, let us face our captor...inquisitor whichever word fits better.”
“You have a strange understanding of the situation.” The woman said emerging from the shadows. She had light brown skin, jet black hair and an incredibly slim figure. She seemed to be dressed in black and green leather. “Or you have the tongue of a diplomat.”
“I've had many encounters with foreigners over the years. English is my first language but I use it very differently than most. That's how this chapter of my life began.”
“I would be most interested to hear more about it.”
“Not to introduce yourself is considered extremely rude, even among enemies.” Nikita said blandly. “at the very least it's as good a place to start as any. My name is Nikita, I'm not as human as I look. My friends name is Mon'el.” She nodded to her companion.
“What species are you?” The woman said, crouching down with a knife unsheathed.
“Threats of violence are not only unneeded they are counter-productive. Unless I have a reason to lie I will never mislead anyone. If I am asked a question I will answer as completely and truthfully as the truth I myself know or believe. That is who I am that is who my people are. Well, that is how it is for those who are actual like me. 'my people' you see, are those who resemble me...not those of my own species. And such a threat or intimidation gives me a reason to hide, scaring me is unto itself, counter-productive I'm Zavallen. Which means among other things that if you want me to talk you should not give me a reason to fear you. Rather give me a reason to trust you.” A shadow seemed to pass over her face. “Something the original Hank Henshaw never understood.”
“How do you mean?” Mon'el and the woman asked almost at once.
“The current director of the Department of Extra-normal operations is himself an alien and he is my friend. He recruited me and I willingly follow him. The man whose place he took was a xenophobic, blind arrogant idiot. Our word Kreec-ta actually applies. I was considered an enemy alien under his directives. And reminding me of my time under his watchful eye is more likely to shut me down then allow me the freedom to speak without reserve. Just tell me what you want to know, and what you want from us, it is literally as simple as that.”
“Well, you've done this before.” Mon'el murmured.
“Not really, but she is reminding me of J'onn in a way that is both soothingly familiar and hauntingly confusing...She is reminding me of the first time I met J'onn Jo'nzz. I am responding accordingly.”
“How is that freaking possible for someone like...She's no more human than you are.”
“She really isn't. The strange thing is either she's completely forgotten being a Green... Or she's different from any White I've ever even heard of. And I've met one before!”
“You have? Under what circumstances?”
“He wanted to know what made someone like me different than the rest of my kind...apparently mistaking me for an Earth-human...More than understandable by the way. He took control of my mind and made me beat up an herbivoric kid. One of those white furry farm animals we have on this planet. I could see everything I was doing, and being a low level empath I FELT every blow I gave to that creature. He returned my sense fo self to me just after he had me snap its neck. And you gave me some sort of truth agent didn't you? Killing my resistance, my sense of restraint so everything just pours out of my mouth?”
“J'onn Jo'nzz...He is a Green Martian? “
“What he IS, is my direct superior and one fo my two closest friends!” Nikita thundered. “Ask me any questions about myself and my life that you want. But I will not put my friends in danger. Yes I know you're a White Martian and yes that is why I will not betray him to you.”
The brown-skinned woman faded from view. Replaced by a petite green-skinned woman with a sloped head and bright shining eyes. “Personally I prefer this skin.” The woman said simply.
“Phobos and Demos. I know all about it...From J'onn. Oh please You could probably walk among my memories as I would a cobbled street or the hallway of a mansion. And frankly I would say go ahead. Except that Mon'el might actually be the better for hearing some of this...We would both be the better for the full disclosure and the utter transparency. But enough of this! What DO you intend to do with us?”
“You will not resist me?”
“I would submit myself to it. My mind and body would fight you, I cannot control that. Any living organism would attempt to expel a foreign body and you would definitely register as Alien. Any White Martian or Infernian would not be detected instantly but would set off alarms of an invasion in my mind.”
“That would explain how you knew I wasn't one.” Mon'el said mindlessly.
“What does he mean by that?”
“Several months ago an Infernian attacked an esteemed senator at a rally for her 'Human First'-esqe followers. I doubled over in pain, standing in the DEO bullpen one day. Mon'el was found the same day and it was assume he was the culprit. That I was reacting to him, even if he wasn't the assaliant. I knew I was sensing either a White Martian or an Infernian But I stood 5 feet from him and felt nothing alarming whatsoever. Kryptonians detect things in a collective sonic frequency. My people, low-level empaths that we are detect the emotional frequency of a race. Most of which are incredibly like each-other. But there are two that stand out, far more erratic and essentially on a higher frequency than the others. Most races are various shades of greens blues and purples...I rely on what I sense about the individual to sense danger or fear or even to figure out what species they actually are. It is a physical impossibility for Infernians or White Martian to be mistaken by my kind as anything but their own species. And in the case of Infernians the mere presence of such a being hurts us like hell. It's a fact of our biology...you are painted red for me.”
“You are hiding something with selfless conviction. Are you protecting J'onn?”
“Look over the last 7 years of my life and you'll find your answer. And believe me you'll have to. I have nothing to hide. But my friends are mine to protect.”
Nikita sat silently, staring at nothing. Small waves of energy pulsed over her skull but she said nothing against it. In fact she continued to talk as if nothing was wrong...until she clutched her head in pain.
“Why are you doing this?” Mon'el asked of their captor almost an hour later. “what makes you think she knows anything worth knowing.”
“She agreed to this, she submitted herself to the bond. She is proving I can trust her and that she truly has nothing to hide...not a pointless act I might add.”
“You keep this up she'll crash completely. She won't remember what you were looking for. She won't remember me.” He was clearly saddened by the truth of it.
“You know her kind?”
“I know her.” Mon'el corrected. “She's my closest friend and my...sponser I guess is the word. I don't know a damn thing about her race. But she's the dearest most innocent person I know. “Please, stop this. I will tell you. It was my secret she was hiding anyway, not hers. What she was hiding was the simple fact that I'm an alien as well. My name is Mon'el; I'm the former prince of Daxam.”
“That was worth going through torture? Hardly a secret worth keeping.”
“Except it wasn't her secret to tell!” Mon'el exclaimed. “She told you directly: she's an open book for herself, but she defends her friends to her last breath. To her it's my choice what I tell you about myself. And she didn't ant to betray my trust. Please she's simply being loyal...and as trusting and gentle a soul to a stranger in the wilderness as to a stranger in holding. A kryptonian known on Earth as Superman hated my guts and thought the worst of me when he first met me. Our planets did not get along and that was the only reason we didn't trust each-other. She didn't want to break my confidence in case our planets felt the same was about each-other. In case their was any bad blood between your world and mine.”
“You are the other 'closest friend' she mentioned?”
“We're joined.” Mon'el replied easily. “We're intended if not bonded. I dont know how I should say this. I'm not as good at English as she is. We are pledged to each-other but have yet to be married. She is my mate and I am hers. Please I will do anything, just let her go!” The field faded. The pulsing light diminished until only a vague white ethereal glow was left.
I saw Nikita shortly after your last mission together. She actually stayed at my house for a couple of days. I would have been happy if she'd stayed longer but instead she willingly went back to the DEO with a man I thought was Director Henshaw. A few hours later I burst into the base focused only on prying her from the jaws of that shark-face. I was quite firmly told to cool my jets. Nikita herself vouched for the director's honor and integrity. We promptly flew to the roof to sort things out away from other eyes and ears. J'onn explained how he had stepped up and took the reins of the DEO. Nikita declared her intent to stay at the DEO as a permanent, free resident. It was intoxicating and refreshing to be honest.”
“You're telling me J'onn Jo'nzz is the director of the DEO and Nikita is his left-hand person. How can that...even be true?”
Superman slowed himself down, upon final approach. “You'll see Henshaw's face when we land. It will be J'onn to greet you.”
“...Green Martians are shape-shifters. J'onn is wearing Hank's face. When Henshaw died J'onn assumed his identity in order to reform the D.E.O. And Nikita helped him keep his cover...without slipping too far into what people expected. Being the only person he could trust who knew what things were like before he came, her input and loyalty were equally invaluable to him.” Jeremiah mused.
“Exactly that.” Superman replied, smiling softly.
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