Arias Completed

 “No please, take me.” Jeremiah Danvers said in a rush. The alien warrior lowered his fist. “I might not like him very much, but I cannot let this continue. He's no longer any threat to you, you gain nothing by this. Keep me, let him go...please.”

“I do not understand what you are suggesting.” The alien prompted slowly. “Please elaborate.”

Jeremiah hesitated for a moment. “He has a beacon on him to activate in emergency and call for extraction. Activate the beacon and leave him as he is...or drop him off somewhere. Agents from our organization will find him. And you'll never hear from him, or the rest of us again. In all honesty, I'd rather not go back either. If you take me with you, you'll be giving me a new life. But if you kill him...I cannot let you take his life. We have rules even in war. He's no threat to you. If for no other reason than to prove you're better than him, leave him be. I promise, if you give him his freedom as well as his life then without your instruction to the contrary I will not leave your side.”

“You would give up your freedom for this man's life?” the man said, clearly mystified.

“For his freedom AND his life...yes.”

The alien bent over Hank Henshaw and put the back of his hand against the man's temples. He closed his eyes briefly before righting himself. “Activate the beacon you mentioned. And we will be getting out of here.” Jeremiah took a small device from his jack-shirt pocket and turned the top. He set the beacon down on Hank Henshaw's chest. “Let's go.”

After 2 hours of walking though the fields with a sinking sun to their left they came to a clearing, dotted by a few houses with flat roofs made out of red clay and what looked like an old one room school house. With a wave of his green hand J'onn motioned his companion into the structure. The room was sparsely furnished but dry and cool. A cot was set up on cinder blocks with lightweight sheets and fluffy white pillows on it. A low set table and an equally short bookshelf stood off the one side. “I... hope you'll be comfortable here. I have to go see a friend.” He turned to leave.

“Wait please.” Jeremiah reached out his hand, almost reaching for his alien captor. “We should at least learn each-others names.”

The alien looked almost embarrassed, or perhaps simply confused. “Of course. That is polite even among enemies.” He looked meaningfully at Jeremiah. “And WE are no longer enemies.”

“I'm Jeremiah Danvers.” The man said simply. He extended his hand.

The alien straightened himself like a solider and extended his own right hand. “I am, J'onn Jo'nzz.”

“What did you do to Hank?”

“I...made sure he wouldn't come here looking for you.”

“Thank you.” Jeremiah said in a heartfelt tone. “You gave me a new life, and you kept your word. I could literally ask for no more than that from anyone, so thank you.”

“I get the feeling I should be thanking you.” J'onn replied. And with that he was gone.

The next afternoon J'onn came back. Jeremiah got to his feet the instant J'onn came through the door. J'onn looked almost disquieted at the courtesy. “There is no need for that, please.”

“I'm sorry, old habits must die hard. And I'm, not really sure what to expect.”

“Do your people have a word for being able to move freely throughout the premises as long as you do leave the premises?”

Jeremiah nodded. “House arrest.”

“Then I suppose 'house arrest' is the best description. I do not intend to treat you as any sort of captive. I can only ask you to believe that. You are not a prisoner of war, you are an unwelcome guest, I think.”

“Would I seem, impolite to ask why you are being so kind to me?”

“You were the first human to speak to me as an equal, seeing me in my true appearance.” Jeremiah cocked an eyebrow. “My people are shape-shifters. We can look human if we choose. And for most of my time on your planet, I have done. I would hope we can continue to be equals.”

“I would like that as well. I know enough to know I'm not a captive here in the strictest sense. I just wasn't sure...who or what to expect if you understand me.” J'onn nodded. “I owe you an apology. I don't understand what could have happened but we were VERY wrong about you. And I am sorry.”

“You were also the first human to look me in the eyes, without either anger or fear on your own eyes. Believe me if I didn't have as high an opinion of you, I would not let you stay here.”

“That makes sense. Wait, does that mean I can soon see the rest of this place?”

“ 'The rest of this place', is what I came here to show you.” J'onn said with a slight smile. Jeremiah fell-in half a step behind J'onn and they walked out of the school house. It turned out they were in a rather pleasant meadow, with the mountains away to the north. After about ten minutes walk J'onn brought him to another clearing. This one dotted with houses constructed mostly of gray stone or wood. A well beaten path ran between the structures and at a distance, under the shade of the mountain there was a structure made entirely of dried sticks covered in moss and held together with what could have been twine. Jeremiah got the impression that whoever lived there preferred the company of animals to that of bipeds. “Welcome to Arias.”

“Arias, what does that mean?”

“In many languages it means something between and including 'city in the clouds' and 'near to God.” J'onn said with a clear note of joy in his voice. “It's simply a more specific word for 'sanctuary' which doesn't always translate the same way in our languages.”

“It doesn't?” Jeremiah asked before he could stop himself.

“For Zyerilians a sanctuary is a cloister, set apart from the outside world, dedicated only to the pursuit fo religious knowledge. For Enkarens it's a military or government training school where you cast aside all other concerns to become the best of whatever you pursue.”

“Ahh, yeah I can see how that would get confusing. Why intentions rather than functions would help best if you have different 'native' languages. This may be a weird time to ask it but were we right about you? In so far as we thought you were a Martian, were we right about you?”

“Yes, I am a Green Martian. And the distinction is significant.” J'onn did not say anything else on the subject and for a few moments did not say anything at all. He simply stared into the distance, lost in thought...perhaps in the past. I regretted upsetting him. He was a good man. If nothing else he was a man of honor and someone the people of Arias looked to as their rock.

Jeremiah stayed with J'onn as kind of a willing captive. He asked J'onn to not only let Hank live but let him go. He's a captive in that he cannot escape but his life is otherwise normal. Basically he has every liberty except liberty himself. Elana and Martin practically stumbled upon Arias four years later. Jeremiah asks J'onn for permission to visit the D.E.O. He wants to know if Nikita is at Hank's side wholeheartedly. The answer will be a glowing affirmative.

Superman: Nikita says to apologize to you, she wasn't able to keep her promise.

Jeremiah Danvers: I don't understand she never promised me anything. Any promise she had the chance to make in the time we knew each other she has undoubtedly kept.

Superman/Elias Danvers: She called me by my birth-name when she first saw me, staring at the symbol on my chest, and later broke down in tears and apologized for failing you. 'Tell your father I'm sorry, I couldn't keep my promise.' Calling Superman Elias would be one thing but who else could have told her my Kryptonian name?"

Jeremiah: Well someone else must have...because I never did.

Superman: Jeremiah, she said to tell my father she's sorry. What father have I except you?

Jeremiah: The one who would have given you the name Kal'el.

Superman: (floored) You're saying she knew my Kryptonian father?”

Jeremiah: You have to admit...I have to admit, it would explain a lot. Not the least of which how she ended up in the D.E.O. in the first place. She is not so obviously an alien herself. But if she made a habit of sheltering aliens...it would have put her on their radar.

Superman: I'm still a little confused why she called me Kal'el. I mean she's been calling me that since I met her. I figured it was her name for me, in her own language.

Jeremiah: What changed?

Elias Danvers: The Atraxi you brought with you, Sarrin. She said this (touches the emblem on his chest) is a Kryptonian family crest, the symbol of the house of El.

Jeremiah: And how the heck could Nikita know your individual Kryptonian name.

Elias Danvers: Unless she had heard it before from someone...somewhere.

Leaves Settle at Last

 And several days after these events, Jeremiah stop by Nikita's place at J'onn's behest to learn if Nikita is ticked at J'onn for the falling out and what the heck even happened in the first place. Twenty minutes of exposition follow, explaining the avoidable, if understandable missteps that cropped up at the D.E.O over the past 11 years, a lot of which played out, or RE-played out under her roof the last time she saw the Green Martian to whom she was beholden and with whom she was 'attuned'. 

Green and White Martins are what would happen if Isaac and Ishmael took their people along such divergent paths that they became two separate races instead simply having 2 separate religions... And hated each-other's guts. Nikita looks Jeremiah in the eye and says. “Believe me, I know where he was coming from. But from my perspective he was judging someone for their race and their looks instead of on their own merits, instead of seeing the individual before them for who they really were. Or bothering to look. J'onn is the kind of person he is regardless of which breed of Martian he was, or that he was one. We saw that right away.” Jeremiah nodded. “My inherent tendency worked to J'onn's advantage then. I simply extended the same proclivity and consideration to my guest. I ended up kicking J'onn out of my apartment because the alien he was so intent to drag away to prison was a guest under my roof and my responsibility. One thing that has been true for the last 27 years is that no one with a brain in their skull insults a friend on mine in my house...Not even a close friend of mine gets away with THAT.”
Another Chapter of Time
“Dining on ashes J'onn?” Kal'el said floating a few feet above the balcony.
“That's a new one.” J'onn Jo'nzz said distractedly.
“If the dark and slightly brooding look fits...and it seems to.” Kal'el landed at J'onn's left and walked over to him, smiling warmly.
“If it means chewing on the dry bones of your own stupidity, it does.”
“What's wrong J'onn? I mean I know this doesn't mean as much as it should but I've never seen you like this.”
“Nikita compared me to Hank Henshaw.” The alien said miserably.
“You mean the military jerk who kept her prisoner for five years and tried to execute you on the spot? That'll do it.”
“Believe it or not, that's not the problem. The trouble is...I think she was right.”
Kal'el of Krypton, or Clark Kent as he was known by most people on Earth, put his hand gently on J'onn's shoulder. “I'm here to listen if you want to talk.”
J'onn looked at his compatriot. “This place has more ears than I like to admit.”
“My father's place then. 68.4 north Longitude, 77.2 West Latitude You'll need a heavy coat or a thicker skin.”
It took a moment for J'onn to react to his friends invitation. And a minute longer to understand it. “Well Clark I appreciate it. I'm just not sure...I'll see you there.”
“Welcome to the Fortress of Solitude.” Kal'el said amiably when he crossed the threshold into his second home. It was quite a beautiful place, a crystalline ice palace On Baffin Island just West of Greenland in the Arctic Circle. J'onn resumed his human form soon as he landed, which made Kal'el smile slightly. “You don't have to hide here J'onn. We hold your people no ill-will. Besides, it's considered more polite to be more honest.”
“...Very well.” J'onn closed his eyes and his skin quickly changed from that of a human African American male to the lime green pallor of his own race. His legs grew, his chest shrank slightly, his head sloped backward as it grew a good 8 centimeters.
“Master Kal, I did not know we'd be receiving guests.” A mild voice said from nearby.
“Kalex, fabricate some Rhown wine for my guest and I, then leave us to ourselves.”
Two champagne flutes of a carbonated beige colored liquid materialized on the pedestal in front of them. “Privacy mode initiated.”
“That's convenient.” J'onn said mildly.
“I didn't think this would be something meant for other ears.” Clark hesitated a moment. “And I get the feeling I should feel honored you would share this with me.”
Kal picked up a flute of the drink, J'onn raised his in a toast. “Tsu freynt, alt aun nay.”
“ 'To Friends, old and new.' ” Kal translated. “I didn't know you spoke Kryptonian.”
“It's an antidote to arrogance and a reminder of our humanness that we can still surprise each-other, the 4 of us.” J'onn said with a slight grin. “I have to ask if Nikita ever told you the story of how we met. Rather to what degree of detail she shared the story.”
“That Henshaw took her and Jeremiah Danvers on a mission to execute a 'particularly dangerous alien' a description she and Jeremiah both laughed at until Hank told her it was a Martian they were going after. That she was ashamed of her mistake when she actually saw you.”
“Because unlike the human inhabitants of this world, she knew both Green and White Martians existed. Jeremiah Danvers and I hold each other in high regard. Entirely due to the fact that Nikita trusted me without hesitation. For the past 4 years she and I have been working to make the DEO 'more like what it is today and less like what it was when I was first brought through its doors'. How many times have we heard her say that? And yet I never stopped to ask her, or even consider what it was like when she was brought into the DEO. I realize I'm telling a story in a very bad order here but...I just listened to a more detailed description of what Henshaw was really like pouring out of her mouth than what I've heard from anyone at the DEO since I arrived. And along with stories of why he's such a blind arrogant idiot and why she holds Jeremiah in such high regard in the first place. But the best part: she told me exactly what it means to be a low-level empath. I always assumed it meant the signals or readings in her mind were faint, distant or easily muddled. It turns out she senses the literal motivations and intentions of anyone she's within 20 meters of, their very nature and essence ring into her ears...into her mind's eyes. And nothing can convince her not to act upon it. Do you know there are two species in the 16 known galaxies that physiologically make her sick, no matter what she senses from the individual person?”
“I knew she reacted horribly to Infernians and White Martians; they make her double over in pain. An Infernian that committed the attack for which I squarely blamed our Daxamite guest.”
“I found such a creature in her apartment, a White Martian. And their kind are monsters... abominations...murderers to m and of my people. Not only did she not let me take that thing into custody, Nikita stood in my way and told me to stand down. Among other things she said that her apartment, which she is beholden to me to be able to use is as much a sanctuary of peace as it is a sanctuary of life and that if I continue to disrespect that and use the wrong end of my anatomy I would quickly find out how thoroughly even a pacifist like herself could kick my ass.”
“White Martians are aggressive, relentless and egotistical. That's not just me repeating what you told me, my Kryptonian father said the same thing. Why would she defend one of them? And I am assuming this is at the core of this whole situation?”
“Nikita told me that as a White Martian, Meagan is shredding her insides. As who she is as a person she is calming me...Nikita...down. And that I was the one making her sick. I couldn't believe it. I still have trouble accepting it. When she told me I was the one reminding her of Hank Henshaw, I said what's probably the most thoughtless thing to ever come out of my mouth. I insisted that she remember I knew what Henshaw was like... after all she was there when I met him.”
    “...And she reminded you that by comparison you were there for five minutes...she had lived under him for five years.” Kal'el finished slowly.
    “Apparently he was a far more violent and thoughtless warden than I had given him credit for. And the one time she fought back was for Jeremiah's sake and not her own. She was right. She told me her treatment at the DEO had improved tremendously by the time I met her, but it was still new to her at the time. I'm sure she's told you the same.”
“She never stops saying it...but never says anything more either.” Kal'el agreed.
“I am seriously regretting never asking her before...what her life was like even a year before I knew her. Truth is I never even tried to think about what it had been like before, what it was like under Henshaw for her or anyone else. With Me'gann standing right there she explained how she and Jeremiah became such a close team, they respected and trusted each-other so completely that Henshaw brought them on missions together...a military unit is supposed to have each-others backs and she did so naturally...the two of them I mean. Then she turned to look at me with the most devastated expression you could ever fear to see on someone's face and said 'I understand you might not want to see me again. And you probably won't want me working at the D.E.O. And that's alright. But there is nothing you can do to stop me from being exactly who I am.' Then asked me to leave her house, leaving her and her guest alone. I've never felt so insulted and yet rightly-embarrassed in my life. Then I talked to a few other inmates and realized how greatly their lives improved once I took over at the D.E.O. 

Understand, I did nothing except make sure they deserved to be there and that they got medicine they weren't allergic to. Turns out that was an improvement from their treatment at the hands of that monster. I mean he was..”
    “..Everything you don't want to be.” Kal'el finished lamely.
    “Exactly. Do you remember how it felt getting dressed down for bad manners?”
The oblique reference was not lost on the Kryptonian. “Thank you for putting it gently. I don't think I'll forget that any time soon. Yeah, I assumed Mon'el was responsible for an attack he was physically incapable of, jailed him at the D.E.O. without a trial –which Nikita pointed out I didn't have the authority for– and in the process reminded a former D.E.O. prisoner of the treatment she fought so hard to escape. Worse, I became everything the two of you were trying not to allow... and acted as if in control of the situation.”
    “Okay, that part I don't know about.” J'onn said quickly.
    “When talking to aliens who are new to the place, I speak as a citizen of Earth. Mostly because I was raised here. When I spoke to Mon'el I spoke as though I was an agent of the D.E.O. As if my prejudices towards Daxamites was D.E.O. policy. And as if it was with their...your authority I was detaining him. The dressing down she gave me was for being so completely wrong about a person and misusing an authority I had no right to claim. She said I was the D.E.O.'s strongest alien ally but still an ally of the DEO, not a part of it. And that 'If I was going to speak as one of us, I might want to get my perspective straight'. I never knew she had so much passion; I never knew her to speak with such fierce conviction. It threw me off. I asked her what had infected her with this much 'passionate intensity' and she said I would have to... 'ask the man whose face J'onn is wearing for that one.' Not exactly anyone's finest moment.”
    “You can say that twice.” J'onn said with a discontented sigh.

Nikita and Mon-El's Adventure

 

“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.

Jeremiahs (next to) Last Surprise

 Astra's Final Surprise

“No, leave her alone!” Jeremiah cried. He reached up and was faced with guns from two alien soldiers. “Take me, please.”

“We cannot let her go running back to her superiors."

“Her friends.” Jeremiah corrected automatically. “She has no 'superiors'. Only friends and fellows. One particularly close friend.”

A solider stepped forward. “How close are we to her friends?”

“I won't betray them. And I will not let Sarrin out of my sight.”

“Then you will come with us. Which way is their camp?"

Jeremiah hesitated. Sarrin stood up. 

“No Jeremiah. They are sincere. And I don't think they have any interest in Arias.”

“I can assure you that much is true.” The officer promised.

“Abut 3 miles northeast you'll come to the Western border of Arias.” Jeremiah said, motioning to his forward-right.

“We're heading West. So that works out.”

Jeremiah and Sarrin are brought directly before the female general of the band of soldiers. No identification is offered from either side, at first. It is made clear that Jeremiah is here only because he would not leave Sarrin's side.

“We should learn each-others names. I'm Jeremiah; this is Sarrin.”

“I am Lieutenant Non. This is General Astra.”

“You're not from here either are you?”

“We are not.”

“Okay, so what happens now?”

“Now we learn what your friend knows about a friend of ours.”

“It's been two weeks.” Jeremiah thought to himself. “every time they take her and she's gone for hours. Why don' they ever question me? They must be looking for answers (they think) only another alien can provide. But what are they doing to her? Every time they bring her back, she can barely move. 'no that's not right' he forcefully corrected himself. 'She's dazed and disoriented but it is not fair to say she can barely move.' “Why does she defend them?” He pondered aloud. The guard looked more closely at him but gave no other sign he had even heard him speak. Jeremiah faced the man more directly. “What is it about Astra that has Sarrin so deferential?"

“GENERAL Astra inspires loyalty. Lt. Non commands it. The Atraxi very wisely does not resist their presence. I mean, why would she?”

“Atraxi...You're Kryptonians!”

“What of it?”

“I...assumed you were White Martians...maybe Elana's race. That you were looking for J'onn or one of my other friends. Well, this explains a lot. Not everything __but a lot.”

The guard stepped aside when Lt. Non brought Sarrin back into the compact, comfortable room that served as their cell. “It's alright. I'm just tired. It's been 31 hours after all.”

“I'm not sure I understand. But...I understand more than I did.” Sarrin smiled and instantly fell into the most peaceful, motionless sleep Jeremiah had ever imagined witnessing. He had to admit that was probably normal for Sarrin's race. He sat down against the rear wall of their cell and tried to sort his thoughts. General Astra and Lt. Non might well be married. But they were soldiers first and foremost: they addressed each-other by rank, at least in front of their guests. The outlines they wore on their left breast next to their shoulders was probably military insignia. But they bore no family crests. So either they had been dis-commended, or they were not from one of the great houses, as Sarrin had once described Kryptonian families.

“36 hours. 36 hours.” Sarrin muttered, sitting up.

“I'll ask you about that later. I think I understand why you keep defending them. ALL Kryptonians were your 'superiors' back on their planet, weren't they?”

“Just so.” Jeremiah gave her an entreating look. “If I had been two years older when ...everything happened, I'd still have a dark blue cloth above my elbow indicating which great house I served. They are Kryptonians. It wouldn't occur to me to question their honesty. Unless my empathic abilities told me otherwise. And I sense no such matter.”

Lt. Non returned ten minutes later. Jeremiah stood between Sarrin and the solider, his hand stretched toward non as if putting distance between himself and hideous danger. “Leave her alone.” Jeremiah declared with a forcefulness that caught Non's attention.

“That's a change. We knew you were a good-hearted man and an honest one. Now I see that you have a spine as well as a tongue.”

“And I intend to use both. Please, whatever you want from her, take me instead.” He considered the solider. “Would it do any good to beg for it?” The flat tone of his voice made it hard to determine if it was an inquiry or an assumption.

Non stared at him and he levelly returned the stare. Finally Non shook his head. “That you are willing to do so tells me enough. Come.”

“You seem different today Mr. Danvers.” General Astra prompted him.

“You're Kryptonians. It was the only thing that could explain Sarrin's deference to you. You have no interest in any of my friends do you...the individuals at Arias.”

“Unless one of them is a blonde-haired woman who is energized by the sun, no.” Jeremiah perked up at Non's comment. “We are looking for one of our own; where is she?”

“I don't know who you're looking for.”

Non gave a fierce backhand to Jeremiah's jaw. He didn't flinch. “Where is she?”

“I don't know who you're talking about.” Jeremiah insisted just as fiercely. Non took a threatening step closer. “I don't think you would have me lie.”

“You live in a sanctuary for peaceful aliens.” General Astra interjected.

“For almost 5 years now.” Jeremiah answered. “What of it?” Non did not reply, nor did he need to. “J'onn leads a group of vastly different species some of whom look very closely human, like Sarrin. Some look completely human, either by choice or otherwise. Some have powder blue skin and golden-tinted eyes. Are you looking for one of them?”

“We are looking for one of our own. A woman who would be wearing this symbol.” Non tossed Sarrin's notebook to the ground. It fell open to a very familiar page. Jeremiah's jaw dropped at the sight of it.

“The house of El? Are you FROM the house of El?”

“You know it?” Astra demanded fiercely. “What do you know of it?”

In response Jeremiah held his right hand up, all four fingers bent toward his palm, his thumb against the thick of his hand. He was taking an oath. “My son, Elias would wear this symbol. His Kryptonian name is Kal-El. It was his 10^th birthday when we found the ship that brought him to Earth and learned this much. I didn't know the significance of the symbol until I came to Arias and met Sarrin. While she was born on Krypton, she is not herself Kryptonian. She's the one who drew this symbol. A man who wore this on his chest saved her life when she was a child. When Krypton was destroyed, he broke the rules to get her and her mother to safety. She never knew his name or his house.When I told her my sons name she said it made sense that this would be the symbol of the house of El. All of these things I swear to you.”

Astra looked on her human captive with new respect. "I'm looking for Kara Zor-El. She would be Kal-El's cousin."

"And you are her family." Jeremiah surmised.

"Yes, we're related. But neither of us," She indicated herself and Non. "are of the house of El. Kara's mother and I were sisters."

"So neither of you are related by blood to Kal-El."

"We were family, that's all that matters to us." Astra stated harshly. "Kara's mother and I were sisters." She repeated, more gently. "Jor-El and Zor-El, Kal and Kara's fathers...were brothers."

"This is making a ridiculous amount of sense." Jeremiah whispered.

"Kal-El is the only Kryptonian known on this planet?"

"I haven't seen him in five years. Maybe he's learned otherwise. But when I last saw him, he wholeheartedly believed he was the last of his kind."

"How can a father not speak to his son for so long a time?!" Non queried.

"I...I Can Not leave Arias."

“WHAT?” Astra and Non asked, completely in sync with each-other.

“I am under house arrest at Arias. J'onn will not permit me to leave and I would not try to escape. I swore that without his order to the contrary, I would not leave his side. He has told me that I am free to move about Arias as I please,. so long as I do not attempt to leave the place."

“Then what are you even doing outside its borders.” Non demanded.

“It was a favor to J'onn. Sarrin has not set foot outside the village in more than 30 years. She is... precious to him. Perhaps she feels it is her role to take care of one of J'onn's guests. I see it as my duty to protect one of his closest friends. I say to address whom of us is responsible for whom. I don't know if I ever got the chance to say it but I really would rather die than go back to J'onn without Sarrin. I have given you as much of an answer as I have. Will you let us go back to Arias?

“You cannot take us to Kal-El?”

“Kal-El as you know him, believes I'm dead. And it must be so. Hank Henshaw, believes I'm dead, for which I am grateful. Sarrin and I...home for us is Arias, with J'onn and our other friends. And I am telling you, if any Kryptonians other than Superman were known to exist, they would be known to us.”

“How did you come to be, as you are?”

"That is a very long story that I would actually need either J'onn or Sarrin's help accurately relaying."

“What are you doing to Sarrin?” Jeremiah countered. “I won't say another word until I know for certain that she is safe and unharmed.”

“You have the right priorities.” Lt. Non observed.

“I was a solider before I became a citizen of Arias. But that is not an answer.”

“Sarrin is safe. We had no reason to hurt her.”

“She came back exhausted every time you took her away."

“Exhausted because it had been 31 hours. We did nothing to injure her."

“Why are you doing this? What are you up to?'

“Kal-El, there really is nothing you could say or do to change me.”

“Then I'll settle for understanding you.”

Tal crouched down, lifted the necklace off his brothers shoulders and threw it behind him. “You could never hope to.” He whispered fiercely.

“Your father wants something of you. You want his approval. I understand that much. Zeta is here, just as Jor-El lived in my fortress. Fixed in into the column so he can manifest when he chooses. This isn't an act. But it is a demonstration.”