A New Way to Start a Life (E-9)

Oliver Queen stood protectively over the young girl. “Whatever you have against me, she has nothing to do with it!” He yelped. His hands in the air he spoke to his captor. “Look I told you I'm not a threat...or I've tried to anyway. And I still can't figure out what you have against us. And now I'm starting to think I have it wrong. You hate me because you think I'm a threat, and that's okay that's great.” The green skinned alien tilted his head, prompting him to continue. “If you honestly believe I'm a threat, then you can go ahead and kill me. But I beg you, let her go. She's not like me.”

This speech did not have quite the effect he'd intended. The stranger who had rarely spoken a handful of words at a time actually backed away and lowered his head. “I was wrong about you...I'm sorry.”

He called for a water-skin and with the slightest tilt of his head indicated it was for Oliver, not himself. His lieutenant gave an uncertain glance, but spoke no word of objection. And with a wave of his hand he dismissed the man. Oliver mumbled his thanks and tried to ask why, but J'onn gave no answer. Instead Oliver watched in stunned amazement as the alien who had taken them both prisoner actually knelt and wrapped Sarin's injured leg.

“Listen, not that I'm not grateful, I am but...what changed?”

“I thought you were keeping her, not protecting her, and I hated you for it.” J'onn replied. He stood up and backed away. “I know she is no more human than I am. If it served me I could look human, but she does. Whatever her race is, they look human.”

“She has a tongue as well as a name.” Both men looked rather caught out as Sarrin stood up. “My name is Sarrin, I'm Atraxi. Oliver is...something the English language does not allow for. But he's as human as it gets. The question is, what kind of person are you?”

“I am...J'onn Jo'nzz.” The stranger said simply.

“I mean more literally than that.” Sarrin said with a slight chuckle.

“I am a Martian.”

In the end J'onn does let Oliver go and asks Sarrin to stay. Though it didn't unfold quite so simply.

“Protector, Guardian. It's the same word in our language. It's not a charge one is given a thing one is. And undefined by anything else.” Sarrin looked at Oliver and then at J'onn before continuing. “A legal guardian is one thing; Solena. A man like a cop or a protector is one thing; Alana-Kai. But neither have the mantle of protector. To be a guardian or protector is an individuals choice and reality. With this understanding, I can tell you, Oliver is my protector. And now it seems, you are.”

“I do not doubt for an instant you are willing to stay here. I must ask if you want to.”

“The slenderest of threads separates the two.” Sarrin answered. “The way I see it Oliver and I were in each-other's lives for a season and now we each have a new season in life coming for us. If you let me stay and let him go, you enable us to grow toward our true potential... I'm happy to stay. And by the way my name means 'beautiful flower' in my language."

In the flashback episode of Smallville that shows Oliver's time on the island, Oliver places himself protectively over Tess. "If I die, at least I die for something." And in the Earth-9 I created, Jeremiah Danvers gave J'onn Jo'nzz an offer/suggested a compromise "let Hank go...keep me." I put these two things together for a first scene in Arias. Two years before Jeremiah makes that offer and finds himself in a wigwam.

Sometime later, this happens --

I woke up. I don't know how else to describe what happened, I woke up. I was sitting on a bench, my back against a wall. The first thing I noticed was that the only lighting in the room was from tiki candles. The second was that I wasn't restrained in any way. Whoever that man was knocked Hank out quickly, and knocked me out a moment later. Hank was so focused on taking out this 'creature' he'd been hunting, he never stopped to think how powerful his target might have been. I couldn't help smiling at that. I looked around the room. It was a wigwam more than anything, the kind American Indians lived in. And I was alone. I laid down on my side, facing the curtain that served as a door. And waited for someone to come in and speak to me.

“Are you awake?” I heard a voice say from the other side of the door not ten minutes later.

“Yes, please come in.” I answered. A young woman in her late 20's walked in carrying a bowl and a tray. Her cinnamon-colored hair was short-cropped just below her earlobe. She weighed maybe 140. “Nibbles.” She said holding the tray up a bit. I nodded. She set the tray down on the bench and the bowl of water down at my feet.
“What are you doing?” I asked her.
“I should think that was self-evident.” She said in a voice so devoid of humor I could not believe she was poking fun at me. If anything she seemed surprised at my question. So I decided to rephrase the question. “Why are you doing this?”
“Me personally, Jean said to make you as comfortable as possible. Why are we taking any measures to make you comfortable...that is for Jean to explain.”
“Am I a prisoner here?” I insisted.
“No restraints but there is a perimeter, that is my understanding.” She replied. She tilted her head. “Please, introductions should come first. My name is Sarrin, and you?”
"Jeremiah."

“Jeri-miah. That's a good name.” She smiled softly.

“Forgive me but are you...what planet are you from?”

“I am Atraxi. We don't have a home-planet. I was almost 8 years old when my mother and I left home. I was 10 years old when we made our home on the Western coast of the United States.”

“Jean is your leader?”

“We're a collection of aliens of various races and a few of the more tolerant humans any of us have met. And yes, J'onn Jo'nzz is the leader of our community. But I'm not wearing a bracelet.”

When I wrote down the scene of Henry and J'onn Jo'nzz I wrote their host as someone other than Nikita because I didn't want to involve her in the story. I didn't want to force this stand alone scene, unrelated to any other work into the narrative. And when J'onn Jo'nzz of Earth 9 had a companion, an alien at Arias that could not be Nikita and spoke with Elana, I used that story/memory as an unneeded explanation for the connection between this young, quiet alien and the green Martian J'onn Jo'nzz. But then Nikita and J'onn met, and they would be strangers, and they cannot be strangers. But also, this scene, the scene in the girl's apartment is separate and alone by definition. In that story Henry and J'onn's host never called herself by name. I called her Atraxi for the very reason that this was not part of the same narrative. So there is no reason to work that into this story. Solving both problems simultaneously, When J'onn returns Jeremiah to the DEO, he will recognize Nikita...as that same human-looking alien host with whom he had an epic 'open mouth insert foot' experience.

Henshaw A Hero

On Earth-9, in the at least 4th year of her time working with Henshaw, the prisoner turned agent Nikita is explaining thier history, that is, her history with hank Henshaw and thier personal history together, to thier newest alien friend, a Daxamite named Mon-el

"I'm still not convinced that in every species no matter how horrible there is room for improvement. But the stories of my people, especially our sacred texts teach that in every species in the galaxy there are exceptions.  That no matter how uniform thier behavior or single-minded thier philosophy, there are always those who's natures run counter to the mainstream. We call them 'horrata'. It means 'an exception to the rule. And not just a minority. A star in the ashes. But all this is in the positive, and it goes the other way too.. White Martians are in general ignorant, arrogant assholes, but I cannot deny there might be some that do not want to be defined by hatred and actually resist the 'truth' that they deserve the world and everything in it.  Human's don't understand this because you are so multi-faceted and so individualistic that the only consistency in your entire race IS variety. We...you have a reputation for being self-focused and self-important. The strive to improve your own situation your ambition and...well this is on an entirely individual basis, singular, ego-driven, self-improvement. And of course that's all true but what is so easy to miss is that individualism allows for an unheard of, and for most cultures unfathomable amount of diversity.

 Most species are known by a tendency or a proclivity. Whether they are known as a race of weapons manufacturers, of warriors or the equivalent of Franciscan Friars --my race is by the way would be in that list-- they are all known and defined by that quality or trait or choice. You could say 'there is some soul of goodness in things evil', but the reverse is just as true. Horrata is exceptions to the rule regardless of whether the rule is virtue or darkness. You cannot put a race into one box or the other, ever. no matter how big the box is, no matter the label, not everyone fits into that box. I have never found a planet where this was so completely true. But it's like, because you don't have boxes, you don't understand how hard...and rare...it is not to live in one."

"I get the feeling there's more you want to say." Mon'el told me easily, if slowly.

"Everyone has good and evil inside of them and you can't put people into a box of virtue and light any more than you can a box of Evil and Darkness. Many would label Hank with the latter. In my experience 'finding a soul of goodness in things evil' is the only time this truth is even considered, or thought upon. As I said the reverse is also true. I can't put someone into a box labeled 'pure light, goodness and truth',  But if I could, Jeremiah would be in it. He is the only human like that I ever knew.” My voice resonated with sadness and I closed my eyes.

"I can't argue with you there." Hank said in a low voice.

I looked over at Mon'el who very politely wasn't saying anything. Perhaps it was closer to genuine consideration than manners. “Jeremiah was the D.E.O. Agent who broke me out of this place, almost 2 years ago now...and died in the line of duty several months later. Hank came looking for me, told me of his death, and asked me to work with him.” I stared at Hank and he stared right back at me. “I am sorry, it is not my place. It really does have to come from you.”

“Jeremiah was...a courageous as well as a noble man.” Hank began slowly. “For own own completely personal reasons, neither of us would question it...or him. I never thought much of him but he showed he could put his duty above his personal feelings, acknowledging but overcoming what he thought of me as an individual, to defend his commanding officer. He died saving my life. And when I came back I asked for Nikita's help, to make sure I never misjudged anyone quite as badly as I did Jeremiah Danvers.”

Superman: He died saving your life. If you weren't hiding anything, like why you were both out there in the first place, why would you cover it up?”

Henshaw's face turned ashen. He stared at me, unsure why he had to explain what he was about to spell out. Turning back to the man who had basically spoken out his own backside Hank enunciated every word of his answer: Because he DIED saving my LIFE.

(after meeting her bizzaro clone) 

Supergirl: She looks like me, she flies like me, she fights like me. I mean other than the fact that she Talks like cookie monster she is me! " -- When Bizzaro talks to James Olsen she says 'no move' instead of 'do not move' and 'Supergirl and me...same.' instead of 'Supergirl and I are alike'. So Supergirl is spot on describing her this way.

Hank Henshaw: The Martian Manhunter earned his name. For once I didn't have to convince Danvers...Jeremiah that this alien was a threat and a warrior. We led a five-man team into the Peruvian mountains. I still don't know what happened to Steel, Collins or Meyers. This thing fought like a warrior when we found it. We fought and I lost. He broke my leg so I couldn't run away. Jeremiah, defended me, verbally to this alien. Eventually physically fighting him...over me...I could not believe it. He died that night, right in front of me. And that is why I do what I do. That memory the knowledge of his sacrifice, and more importantly the COURAGE he carried with him, that I never noticed, changed my mind....and my heart along with it."

Canadian Rockies and the Aftermath

I finally found the moment that was missing from my story about Nikita standing up to J'onn like a mouse to a lion. I'm not sure I ever typed this scene and was having serious trouble even starting on writing it. I think I finally found a single moment in the scene.

Me'gann Mor'zz, a White Martian asks Nikita why she would defy J'onn who is not only her direct superior officer but someone she so clearly respects, on her behalf.

"Because this is the second time history has repeated itself and I didn't know what else to do." Taking a breath, without looking at Me'gann, Nikita explains. "J'onn is wearing  the face of his predecessor, a man I served under before him. And that is an epic misnomer. He took the identify of a man named Hank Henshaw. It is disheartening to say the least when J'onn lives up to that man's face. But slightly more importantly you are my guest and this is my home!"

Nikita turns slowly to face Me'gann. "Knowing what I know about the history of your races, if he'd found you at a restaurant or something and tried to arrest you, that is to take you back to the D.E.O  I wouldn't have objected, not publicly. I would have made my case to give you a fair hearing when we were at the D.E.O. Just as I did when the former prince of Daxam was thrown in a cell for a crime he literally couldn't have committed. Mon'el was believed to be guilty and the hero who arrested him assumed the worst of him just because he was from Daxam, didn't even bother to ask his name. Yeah that actually happened, and that was the first time it felt like Hank was still running things. As I said, he cannot force me NOT to be true to myself. And whatever else is going on, I know you well enough to know that I can trust you. And no one with a brain in thier skull insults a friend of mine IN my house. Not even my closest friends can get away with that and nothing can force me to permit it."

x

Me'gann Mor'zz, a White Martian asks Nikita why she would defy J'onn who is not only her direct superior officer but someone she so clearly respects, on her behalf.

"Because this is the second time history has repeated itself and I didn't know what else to do." Taking a breath, without looking at Me'gann, Nikita explains. "J'onn is wearing  the face of his predecessor, a man I served under before him. And that is an epic misnomer. He took the identify of a man named Hank Henshaw. It is disheartening to say the least when J'onn lives up to that man's face. But slightly more importantly you are my guest and this is my home!"

Nikita turns slowly to face Me'gann. "Knowing what I know about the history of your races, if he'd found you at a restaurant or something and tried to arrest you, that is to take you back to the D.E.O  I wouldn't have objected, not publicly. I would have made my case to give you a fair hearing when we were at the D.E.O. Just as I did when the former prince of Daxam was thrown in a cell for a crime he literally couldn't have committed. Mon'el was believed to be guilty and the hero who arrested him assumed the worst of him just because he was from Daxam, didn't even bother to ask his name. Yeah that actually happened, and that was the first time it felt like Hank was still running things. God I don't even know why I call him that! Given that he and I did not exactly get along and what he originally was to me, I should call that asshole by his surname, not his individual one. I should refer to him as 'Henshaw'. J'onn cannot force me not to be true to myself, no one can and J'onn would be a fool to knowingly try it. He's known me for six years and doesn't realize that, whatever else is going on, I know you well enough to know that I can trust you. And no one with a brain in thier skull insults a friend of mine IN my house. Not even my closest friends can get away with that and nothing can force me to permit it."

Now in the scene titled 'Dining on Ashes', J'onn describes what had happened perfectly and following that later scene as a script made it even harder to write this. That's where he tells Superman his biggest regret from this day isn't that Nikita compared him to Hank Henshaw, but that she was actually right to do so. This one moment changes everyone's mind and opens everyone's eyes. Though it takes nearly losing Nikita to Queen Rhea months later --who tried to kill her to get her out of the way-- for J'onn to face Nikita about it.

Also in the actual show Supergirl, Mon-el and Kara/Supergirl are a couple and Queen Rhea tries to kill Kara with Kryptonite which in her eyes is simply 'doing what is necessary to reclaim him. It doesn't help that she thinks of Kara wanting him to stay as krypton trying to take her son from her. Here Nikita, a Xavallen is Mon'el's fiancé and Rhea just tries to straight up kill her. Which as you might imagine does not sit well with J'onn, Mon'el, Superman, Martin Stein or Me'gann Mor'zz.

Stein's Birthday Gift

 Elana Morris is the only inmate at the Department of Extra-Normal Operations, the only alien ever detained there to actually go through the legal/Justice system. She was basically convicted of involuntary manslaughter and her alien physiology was such the cooks could accidently kill her. Or she'd accidently kill another inmate. When Director J'onn Jo'nzz understood she was simply serving her time at the D.E.O without incident, from her perspective as well as literally not bothering anyone, he changed her status.

Martin Stein is taking an alien in DEO custody on one of her first journeys outside the DEO itself. The young woman's name is Elana Morris. She is not technically a prisoner but they were charged with her care. It has been well established that her mother's people were powerful empaths. That her physical infirmities are due exclusively to her mixed heritage, not her Enkaren biology itself. And for those keeping track, or trying to keep track, this takes place in the same continuity as Mon'el and Nikita, J'onn Jo'nzz and Superman.

“My people agree that there is a creator. We don't believe in fate so much as providence. And our favorite thing to do is discuss our own beliefs and conclusions about the nature of the divine being that crated the universe. We have conferences of like-minded people, but we don't separate ourselves by our faith. Certainly not by how we feel we should honor our One God.” Elana looked sideways at Martin. “All Abrahamic faiths make perfect sense to me. Their view of God lines up perfectly with my won. But I happen to think they line up with each-other too. To me all Islam, Christianity and Judaism are is vastly different traditions and concepts on how to perceive or relate to the same God of our-all of your ancestors. You shouldn't call people stupid for thinking or even being raised differently than you. Back home we would have gotten that.”

“I'm sorry but, 'back home'?”

“My mom raised me with everything she would have learned in primary or secondary school in Teresia. It's my ancestral homeland on her side. This also means I know how my people would have viewed or interpreted almost anything I see here. WE all had different religions. Or actually we didn't form religion around our spiritual beliefs. Very different from Kryptonians or Martians, they literally all worship the same God. Heritage and culture, well you know as well as anyone how much the two get blurred together sometimes...And the kind of strength that can give a culture.”

“Yes, indeed I do.” Martin said hesitatingly.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It's fine, refreshing actually.”

“To know someone who doesn't mince words but insists on being respectful as they refuse to?”

“Well that plus just talking about things either of us feel like talking about.” Martin looked around nervously. “And do I assume your shadow is still very interested in you-slash-us?”

“I should say that whatever has given me these visions, I've learned to trust it. That even if what I see isn't happening, I'm seeing it for a reason. And yes, whoever was SO interested in someone like me, is still around. But I'm not entirely sure he's not wearing a mask, using an image in my head that's so fresh for me, having just received and being so focused on what I saw. Also, I cannot for the life of my fathom why I got an early-warning system about him in the first place. What I saw is so fantastical, even by DEO standards, it's not like I'll be able to convince anyone I'm right about him?”

“Perhaps it was more for his sake than yours?” Martin said thoughtfully. “So he wouldn't have as much explaining to do. Or so that someone else will be able to consider- that is give weight and clarity to- his his 'fantastical' story?”

“So I can clarify & confirm what he says when I do bring him in? Trust me, he should want to come. I hope to heaven that you are right and that he's not wearing that kind of a mask. For one he shouldn't exist anymore than J'onn should have. So without a warning or some kind of head's up  *I* wouldn't believe this story. And *I* wouldn't have believed it out of his or anyone's mouth.”

“Okay, that one you are going to have to explain.”

“That J'onn shouldn't exist? Well obviously he should exist but when the DEO first encountered him they were wrong about what he was. I mean...Well, you know who J'onn is right?”

“He's a shape-shifting alien who reformed the DEO into what it is, not like it was run under his predecessor. Also a Green Martian, a steadfast warrior...an a man of honor by all I can tell of him.”

“Exactly, he's a Green Martian...And he never told you that part. Ohh crap.” Elana looked down, dejected and thoroughly displeased with herself.

“We should get going. We should head back.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Time to breath DEO air again...literally and non-sarcastically.”

“You mean you can't breath unfiltered air for long?” Martin said as he put a $20 on the table and picked up his jacket. “Not a complete shot in the dark. J'onn told me that your not asthmatic; but the result is the same.”

“ 'There's not enough air in the air'...is 10 degrees off. More like there's too much of something else and I can't breathe-thereby I can't process the 'air' in the atmosphere either. In human physiology if oxygen bonds with sulfur you can't process oxygen. Same for us with the... Aeon? Argon in the air. It's like breathing in smog. It's smothering. And eventually my breathing goes shallow. Hyp-O-ventilating essentially.”

“Adding to the list of reasons you don't usually leave the D.E.O.”

“Well, yeah.”

They were in their car and heading back to the D.E.O. Both of them strapped in, Elana in the front passenger seat of Martin's Impala. “How much do you know about when J'onn and Nikita first met? When the original Hank Henshaw was still around and the impressions everyone left on each-other?”

“Very little I'm afraid. I know Henshaw was a close-minded jerk who saw all aliens as potential enemies. I know Nikita had been a prisoner at the DEO but with the help of a sympathetic agent, whom she emotionally attached herself to, she was became more of an asset than an inmate. In custody but here to do a job. I know that J'onn was an alien they had to go to the far northern Canadian Rockies to find. And neither Director Henshaw nor the other agent were said to have survived.”

“After that mission Nikita was invited to become a full agent of the D.E.O and J'onn took Hank's face and identity in order to reform the D.E.O. And Superman has been 'in' on their agreement and intention since day one. Listen, I can tell you everything Nikita told me, she wouldn't mind it. I cannot say anything that was not contained in her story. These will be Nikita's words and feelings. I feel that to give my own, or anything of J'onn's story that I myself have learned, without permission, would violate J'onn's trust.”

“Well, okay.”

And when she was done Martin was looking at her with a new admiration. “You really are in-tuned with emotions...even those not actually your own.”

Elana looked at him thoroughly thrown off balance. “Of course, I'm Enkaren.” Martin's face showed his lack of understanding. “My people's empathic abilities are such that traumatic hypnosis would be a thing if I were full-blooded.”

“Could you run that by me again in elaborated English?”

“You know how I get when I sing a song? If you have an open mind you see it in your mind's eye as well. Or here..” She put her left hand to the side of her own face and played an image of cool winds blowing over fields of wildflowers. “If I were entirely of my mother's people, that wouldn't have been in your minds eye. You would have whole-heartedly believed you were there and never questioned it.  It would be a full-sensory, even physical experience; indistinguishable from the ground and surroundings in which you truly stand. Not to say it was always a weapon of war. We would use it to calm a troubled sea OR stir up a tempest...But in general using our minds as a weapon against our enemies would be the first thing we'd think of. That is why my people are so feared among alien races. The only difference is that my mother never taught me to use my abilities that way. She wasn't that kind of person. Even if I were pure-blooded traumatic hypnosis would be a mis-nomer.” Elana looked away, sadly.

“...What happened to her?” Martin asked in a weak voice.

“Nothing bad. She was an old woman when I was born. She died when I was in my 20's. I was 31 years old when I attacked an assailant – someone who was beating someone else up – and ended up doing enough damage he died from his injuries. That man turned out to be a cop. And I got arrested being so disregardful of law and order that killing a cop was nothing to me. If a persons position is such that wronging him is a worse crime than wronging a civilian he should be required to Identify himself. Maybe he was supposed to but he never declared himself. I sure as hell didn't mean to kill him. That was the result, not my intention. And no one could figure out how a little shrimp like me could have caused enough damage to kill him -someone as fit as a police detective- unless I'd knowingly or willfully use enough force to do so. It's not like a pacifist can accidently kill a solider, right? So I spent 15 years in a DEO cell. Wondering why I wasn't sent to a normal prison if they didn't know I was an alien? Turns out it was because one man did figure out what I was. And that chances were good table-salt would burn me or I'd react to a normal painkiller like it was a powerful sedative or even hallucinogen. At the D.E.O. I was cared for by people who knew who I was and I met J'onn J'onzz when he was doing his rounds. In him and then in you I have found someone actually willing to talk to me just for the sake of talking...All because a man like Hank Henshaw actually saw what was going on...and no one else did.”

"J'onn, I would like to introduce you to Querl Dox, a descendant of the Brainiac Clan."

"And you are sure. You are confident...in him?" He wanted to say 'that he is a good guy' but didn't want to be offensive, or risk ticking off a strange visitor.

"He is as much an exception to the rule as my own mother was. And you know a Franciscan Friar is non typical for an Enkaren." She looked to Martin Stein, to the Coluan visitor and back to Director J'onzz as she spoke. "My mother carried a dagger but never a sword. And she was more apt to carry a loaf of bread than an Olive Branch. You get where I'm going...what I'm trying to say."

"She carried a knife but never loved a weapon. She wasn't a pacifist, or at least didn't wear that on her proverbial sleeve but always tended to the poor and weak?" Martin Stein guessed.

"And for her people, for Enkarens that was very A-typical. They were warriors born. Not aggressive, not tyrannical by any means, but fighters all the same." She looked over to her friend. "Like I told you Martin. My abilities being weaker, my emotions being diluted and not in pure form, is the result of my mixed heritage. That I actually have control over my 'quick temper' and why my 'hot blood' is never very explosive...that's because my mother raised me right." Elana blushed. "Well, it's because she raised me as she did. In a way most Enkarens wouldn't consider to be right and natural thinking.  And in a style, with a set of values most races who've even heard of us wouldn't think of as 'Enkaren'.

Elana stares hard and Querl Dox. A moment alter she shakes her head. "Director, Nikita would be a better help to you than I. And not just because my head is full of air right now." 

Director, J'onn Jo'nzz looked at his alien friend with a note of sympathy. "You should go to your quarters and lie down."

Querl Dox looked with concern as Martin took Elana by the arm and half-guided half carried her to the room that served as Elana's quarters at the D.E.O. "I am afraid I do not understand is she...ill?"

J'onn Jo'nzz glanced back at the visitor. "Do you know enough about Enkaren physiology to know why the air itself is slightly toxic to them?"

"Enkarens would use an argon gas chamber to execute criminals." Querl said immediately. "The amount of Argon in Earth's atmosphere would make them feel like they were breathing in smog...And the air filtration systems here at the D.E.O would allow her to breathe what would be for her 'pure air'. without any apparatus."

"You really do know a lot about practically everything."

I realize Elana introduced me to you as Querl Dox. But I would actually prefer to be addressed by my designation, Brainiac-5. My friends just call me 'Brainy'."

"Not close to your family?"

"A less formal name implies a familiarity I find...comforting. And for my people calling one by there individual name is...actually setting them apart from the rest of thier family."

"You're related to Indigo." J'onn realized quickly. "How is that possible."

Brainiac-5 did not respond except to lower his head.

In Custody...but not in Prison

Elana Morris was originally the only inmate at the Department of Extra-Normal Operations, the only alien ever detained there to actually go through the American legal system. She was basically convicted of involuntary manslaughter and her alien physiology was such she'd react in dangerous ways to otherwise normal drugs or foods. Or she'd accidently kill another inmate. When Director J'onn Jo'nzz understood she was simply serving her time at the D.E.O without incident,  and literally not bothering anyone, he changed her status. This story borrows more from another idea I had. In which she is not technically a prisoner but they were charged with her care. And a theoretical physicist Martin Stein was called in to try to figure her out. Martin is taking her on her first excursion outside the Department of Extra-normal Operations. Either way it has been well established that her mother's people (Enkarens) were powerful empaths. And had about 3 times the physical strength of a human. The reference to cultural strength and identity is because Martin is Jewish. And would in fact have a Mogen-David on his casket when he passed.

“My people agree that there is a creator. We don't believe in fate so much as providence. And our favorite thing to do is discuss our own beliefs and conclusions about the nature of the divine being that crated the universe. We have conferences of like-minded people, but we don't separate ourselves by our faith. Certainly not by how we feel we should honor our One God.” Elana looked sideways at Martin. “All Abrahamic faiths make perfect sense to me. Their view of God lines up perfectly with my won. But I happen to think they line up with each-other too. To me all Islam, Christianity and Judaism are is vastly different traditions and concepts on how to perceive or relate to the same God of our-all of your ancestors. You shouldn't call people stupid for thinking or even being raised differently than you. Back home we would have gotten that.”

“I'm sorry but, 'back home'?”

“My mom raised me with everything she would have learned in primary or secondary school in Teresia. It's my ancestral homeland on her side. This also means I know how my people would have viewed or interpreted almost anything I see here. WE all had different religions. Or actually we didn't form religion around our spiritual beliefs. Very different from Kryptonians or Martians, they literally all worship the same God. Heritage and culture, well you know as well as anyone how much the two get blurred together sometimes...And the kind of strength that can give a culture.”

“Yes, indeed I do.” Martin said hesitatingly.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It's fine, refreshing actually.”

“To know someone who doesn't mince words but insists on being respectful as they refuse to?”

“Well that plus just talking about things either of us feel like talking about.” Martin looked around nervously. “And do I assume your shadow is still very interested in you-slash-us?”

“I should say that whatever has given me these visions, I've learned to trust it. That even if what I see isn't happening, I'm seeing it for a reason. And yes, whoever was SO interested in someone like me, is still around. But I'm not entirely sure he's not wearing a mask, using an image in my head that's so fresh for me, having just received and being so focused on what I saw. Also, I cannot for the life of my fathom why I got an early-warning system about him in the first place. What I saw is so fantastical, even by DEO standards, it's not like I'll be able to convince anyone I'm right about him?”

“Perhaps it was more for his sake than yours?” Martin said thoughtfully. “So he wouldn't have as much explaining to do. Or so that someone else will be able to consider- that is give weight and clarity to- his his 'fantastical' story?”

“So I can clarify & confirm what he says when I do bring him in? Trust me, he should want to come. I hope to heaven that you are right and that he's not wearing that kind of a mask. For one he shouldn't exist anymore than J'onn should have. So without a warning or some kind of head's up  *I* wouldn't believe this story. And *I* wouldn't have believed it out of his or anyone's mouth.”

“Okay, that one you are going to have to explain.”

“That J'onn shouldn't exist? Well obviously he should exist but when the DEO first encountered him they were wrong about what he was. I mean...Well, you know who J'onn is right?”

“He's a shape-shifting alien who reformed the DEO into what it is, not like it was run under his predecessor. A Green Martian, a steadfast warrior...an a man of honor by all I can tell of him.”

“Exactly, he's a Green Martian...And he never told you that part. Ohh crap.” Elana looked down, dejected and thoroughly displeased with herself.

“We should get going. We should head back.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Time to breath DEO air again...literally and non-sarcastically.”

“You mean you can't breath unfiltered air for long?” Martin said as he put a $20 on the table and picked up his jacket. “Not a complete shot in the dark. I was there when they figured out why you had such trouble speaking...why you reacted as if there wasn't enough air in the room. IOt's not exactly because of Asthma, but the result is much the same." 

“ 'There's not enough air in the air'...is 10 degrees off. More like there's too much of something else and I can't breathe-thereby I can't process the 'air' in the atmosphere either. In human physiology if oxygen bonds with sulfur you can't process oxygen. Same for us with the... Aeon? Argon in the air. It's like breathing in smog. It's smothering. And eventually my breathing goes shallow. Hyp-O-ventilating essentially.”

“Adding to the list of reasons you don't usually leave the D.E.O.”

“Well, yeah.”

They were in their car and heading back to the D.E.O. Both of them strapped in, Elana in the front passenger seat of Martin's Impala. “How much do you know about when J'onn and Nikita first met? When the original Hank Henshaw was still around and the impressions everyone left on each-other?”

“Very little I'm afraid. I know Henshaw was a close-minded jerk who saw all aliens as potential enemies. I know Nikita had been a prisoner at the DEO but with the help of a sympathetic agent, whom she emotionally attached herself to, she was became more of an asset than an inmate. In custody but here to do a job. I know that J'onn was an alien they had to go to the far northern Canadian Rockies to find. And neither Director Henshaw nor the other agent were said to have survived.”

“After that mission Nikita was invited to become a full agent of the D.E.O and J'onn took Hank's face and identity in order to reform the D.E.O. And Superman has been 'in' on their agreement and intention since day one. Listen, I can tell you everything Nikita told me, she wouldn't mind it. I cannot say anything that was not contained in her story. These will be Nikita's words and feelings. I feel that to give my own, or anything of J'onn's story that I myself have learned, without permission, would violate J'onn's trust.”

“Well, okay.”

Elana spent the rest of the drive and 30 extra minutes describing Green and White Martians, that Nikita was of a sibling race to her own, but without the hot-bloodedness and the disproportionate physical ability. And how Nikita's loyalty and faith went first to J'onn and then to the DEO. And how Nikita's people, Zavallens have the Ten GAlorious Tales, her peoples Holy Scriptures which inform every single aspect of thier lives. And when she was done Martin was looking at her with a new admiration. “You really are in-tuned with emotions...even those not actually your own.”

Elana looked at him thoroughly thrown off balance. “Of course, I'm Enkaren.” Martin's face showed his lack of understanding. “My people's empathic abilities are such that traumatic hypnosis would be a thing if I were full-blooded.”

“Could you run that by me again in elaborated English?”

“You know how I get when I sing a song? If you have an open mind you see it in your mind's eye as well. Or here..” She put her left hand to the side of her own face and played an image of cool winds blowing over fields of wildflowers. “If I were entirely of my mother's people, that wouldn't have been in your minds eye. You would have whole-heartedly believed you were there and never questioned it.  It would be a full-sensory, even physical experience; indistinguishable from the ground and surroundings in which you truly stand. Not to say it was always a weapon of war. We would use it to calm a troubled sea OR stir up a tempest...But in general using our minds as a weapon against our enemies would be the first thing we'd think of. That is why my people are so feared among alien races. The only difference is that my mother never taught me to use my abilities that way. She wasn't that kind of person. Even if I were pure-blooded traumatic hypnosis would be a mis-nomer.” Elana looked away, sadly.

“...What happened to her?” Martin asked in a weak voice.

“Nothing bad. She was an old woman when I was born. She died when I was in my 20's. I was 31 years old when I attacked an assailant – someone who was beating someone else up – and ended up doing enough damage he died from his injuries. That man turned out to be a cop. And I got arrested being so disregardful of law and order that killing a cop was nothing to me. If a persons position is such that wronging him is a worse crime than wronging a civilian he should be required to Identify himself. Maybe he was supposed to but he never declared himself. I sure as hell didn't mean to kill him. That was the result, not my intention. And no one could figure out how a little shrimp like me could have caused enough damage to kill him -someone as fit as a police detective- unless I'd knowingly or willfully use enough force to do so. It's not like a pacifist can accidently kill a solider, right? So I spent 15 years in a DEO cell. Wondering why I wasn't sent to a normal prison if they didn't know I was an alien? I eventually realized it was because the director of the D.E.O, the original Hank Henshaw, had figured out I was one. And that chances were good table-salt would burn me or I'd react to a normal painkiller like it was a powerful sedative or even hallucinogen. At the D.E.O. I was cared for by people who knew who I was and otherwise left me alone. And I was and am fine with that. I met director J'onzz when he was doing his rounds. And at first I didn't know he was well...not Director Henshaw. Then I realized he didn't know my story. And he didn't agree with keeping me locked up. In him and then in you I have found someone actually willing to talk to me just for the sake of talking...All because a man like Hank Henshaw actually saw what was going on when no one else did. And that is enough irony for a lifetime."

"J'onn, I would like to introduce you to Querl Dox, a descendant of the Brainiac Clan."

"And you are sure. You are confident...in him?" He wanted to say 'that he is a good guy' but didn't want to be offensive, or risk ticking off a strange visitor.

"He is as much an exception to the rule as my own mother was. And you know a Franciscan Friar is non typical for an Enkaren." She looked to Martin Stein, to the Coluan visitor and back to Director J'onzz as she spoke. "My mother carried a dagger but never a sword. And she was more apt to carry a loaf of bread than an Olive Branch. You get where I'm going...what I'm trying to say."

"She carried a knife but never loved a weapon. She wasn't a pacifist, or at least didn't wear that on her proverbial sleeve but always tended to the poor and weak?" Martin Stein guessed.

"And for her people, for Enkarens that was very A-typical. They were warriors born. Not aggressive, not tyrannical by any means, but fighters all the same." She looked over to her friend. "Like I told you Martin. My abilities being weaker, my emotions being diluted and not in pure form, is the result of my mixed heritage. That I actually have control over my 'quick temper' and why my 'hot blood' is never very explosive...that's because my mother raised me right." Elana blushed. "Well, it's because he raised me how she did. In a way most Enkarens wouldn't consider to be 'right' or at least not natural thinking.  And  in a style, with a set of values most aliens wouldn't think of as 'Enkaren'.

Elana stares hard and Querl Dox. A moment alter she shakes her head. "Director, Nikita would be a better help to you than I. And not just because my head is full of air right now." 

Director, J'onn Jo'nzz looked at his alien friend with a note of sympathy. "You should go to your quarters and lie down."

Querl Dox looked with concern as Martin took Elana by the arm and half-guided half carried her to the training room that served as Elana's quarters at the D.E.O. "I am afraid I do not understand is she...ill?"

J'onn Jo'nzz glanced back at the visitor. "DO you know enough about Enkaren physiology to know why the air itself is slightly toxic to them?"

"Enkarens would use an argon gas chamber to execute criminals." Querl said immediately. "The amount of Argon in Earth's atmosphere would make them feel like they were breathing in smog...And the air filtration systems here at the D.E.O would allow her to breathe what would be for her 'pure air'. without any apparatus."

"You really do know a lot about practically everything."

I realize Elana introduced me to you as Querl Dox. But I would actually prefer to be addressed by my designation, Brainiac-5. My friends just call me 'Brainy'."

"Not close to your family?"

"A less formal name implies a familiarity I find...comforting. And for my people calling one by there individual name is...actually setting them apart from the rest of thier family."

"You're related to Indigo." J'onn realized quickly. "How is that possible."

Brainiac-5 did not respond except to lower his head.

Saint Francis would be Proud

 A series of moments from everything I've ever been interested in. When I feel like I want this kind of inspiration, I'll come here to search for new material, and a better idea of what kind of story to write. But they will not happen any particular place. In other words, if the scene is from season 6 of 24, I'll write a story or history which fits that scene...having nothing to do with 24 itself. I write stories inspired by these scenes but with my own characters and setting Ultimately I hope to connect these stories to each-other in an original, almost anthology framework. But the only consistency is poignancy. The main characters in the scene cannot always be the same.

O'Neill is technically holding Darian and his wife hostage.

Darian: I do not understand!

Jack O'Neill: I know how you feel.

Darian: There are two of you?

O'Neill: It's a little more complicated than that.

Darian: Please...do not harm my wife.

O'Neill: (mildly surprised) I'm not gonna hurt either one of you. I just want someone to explain to me what went on here before I arrived. Why people seem to know me, why I'm a public enemy.”

Darian: You...have been here before. Your team came through the Shappa-eye (their word for the Stargate). You said that our god, Heur-ur was a false god. With your help we organized a rebellion and banished Heru-ur's Soldiers. Then the gods sent in more troops to restore order. Now we live according to their rule...and they seem to like you even less than you let on last time.

O'Neill: Well that part makes sense.

Darian: It's something we have in common. (O'Neill stares at him). The punishment my people suffered for our indiscretion was my fault. I convinced them to follow you;and they were made to pay dearly for it.”

Jack O'Neill: Thus explaining why you think I'd want to hurt you....But I still don't get it.

Jack Bauer comes across two people in the Russian Consulate who otherwise were minding their own business, only interested in each-other. He bursts in with his gun drawn, but clearly wounded.

Arik: Please don't hurt her.

Jack: I have no intention of hurting either one of you. But if you do not cooperate I will kill you. Do you understand me? Both of you speak English?”

Arik and Yvonne: Yes...yes.

Jack: I need to make a call.

Arik: You can't. We're on lock down ever since you killed Strovic.

Jack: I didn't kill Strovic.

Arik: I don't believe you.”

Jack Bauer: (aiming his gun at the woman's heart) I don't have to convince you.

Arik: (gulps)...Whatever you need.”

Jack: In case of an emergency, how do you Contact, the, outside world.”

Arik: (Stammering) A..sat phone, two floors above us. I'll..I'll bring it. (quietly) please.”

After he leaves Jack rests himself against a desk his gun ready, but lowered.

(An alien executioner is defeated by Supergirl. The prisoner she saved steps forward timidly)

Professor Narek: Excuse me. May I ask what happens to me? (Supergirl flies him to the university) I don't understand, you're letting me go, why?

Supergirl: Well you've already served your time. And you've students to teach about the stars.

Professor Narek: Thank you Supergirl.

Supergirl: (grinning) No, my name's Kara.

Professor Narek: Well then, thank you miss Kara.

(Oliver has been brought in chains before Rashe)

Rashe Al Gul: Death comes to all living things Mr. Queen, even one as powerful as myself.

Oliver Queen: (kneeling, looking up) Kill me. But spare John Diggle's life. Let him go. (looks down) I will beg for it.

Rashe Al Gul: You've shown tremendous strength, fortitude, power. No Mr Queen. I don't want to kill you. I want you to take my place...I want you to become the next Rashe Al Gul.

Harrison 'Eaobard' Wells: I wasn't exactly eager to be killed. And I know I was responsible for a lot of suffering in this city but *these people (indicates Caitlin, Cisco, Barry) These people have done nothing wrong. You want to punish me, fine. Let's do that. But let these people live.

Faroq: You died that night too. You just didn't know it til today.

In a village right out of European Dark Ages, everyone runs inside as the team approach. A woman is restrained in the town square. A man approaches the team, holding out a cross.)

Villager: Spare her please.

Daniel Jackson: We, we're not going to hurt her--or you. We're...friends. I'm Daniel.

Villager: I am Simon. You have come through the circle of darkness. (Sam nods) Then you must be of his brethren. I beg of you, Mary is so young; she did nothing to warrant sacrifice.

O'Neill: Whoa. What sacrifice?

They figure out he thinks they are literal demons. After Teal'c breaks her free, Mary runs inside.

Simon: (throwing himself on his knees) Leave her body please! Take me in her place.

O'Neill: Oh, stop it will you. Get up. (lifts him gently) We're not demons. Mary is NOT possessed, from the looks of it she's a little sick. Now if you let us, we might be able to help her.

Thor: Brother however I have wronged you, whatever I have done to drive you to do this, I am truly sorry. But these people have done you no wrong. Taking their lives will gain you nothing. So take mine...And end this.

(Surrounded by yelling hooting Apes and addresses himself to the ape leader)

Malcolm: No please, please don't kill me; just hear what I have to say. I know, 'don't come back' I know. I just wouldn't be here if I didn't. (Ape knocks him down he continues; kneeling) I need to show you something, it's not far. Once I show you, you'll understand why I did came. please.

Issak: Where do you stop you Nazi's? After you've killed the last of us all, what, do you turn the guns against yourselves? (Kirk takes the gun,) Issak: (to Kirk) No don't shoot, don't shoot please!

Thawne as Wells: I earned the blame I'm not interested in sharing it. If admitting what I've done means you all are free of this...I'll happily face the music.

Imad al din: (patting a steeds neck) A very good horse.

Balian: Take the horse, and be about your business.

Imad Al Din: This is your prize of battle. I am your prisoner...your SLAVE should you wish it.

Balian: I have been a slave, or very near to one. I'll never keep one nor suffer any to be kept. Go.

(Later Balian is kneeling, defeated before Imad)

Balian: What becomes of us?

Imad: As you deserve. 'You reap what you sow'. You have heard of this, no? Get up.

My character Nikita, whether in Camelot or modern stories has always been a person who believes in the God of the Bible. But whose faith and comprehension extends to anyone who worships the God of Abraham. Jews and Muslims make as much sense to her as anyone who would wear a cross around her neck.

This is especially helpful in a world where the public knows aliens live on Earth and on a regular basis on the street she meets people unfamiliar with any God or religion known here on Earth. H'ronmeer is a God on Mars and she is taking a White Martian out to dinner. Both Martians are shape-shifters so Me'gann looks human in public. Nikita is unsure if White Martians are particularly religious or attentive to thier traditions, so when they get their drinks she makes the only salutation that makes sense to her. Raising a glass Nikita toasts... "To friends and family may whatever 'God' may be keep them safe and hold them in his hand." A pretty universally recognized and appreciated thought.

This latest sketch for my story led to my seriously thinking of Squanto a Warrior's tale. Not the movie, the book version which makes it clear that the group of Franciscan friars one of whom 'would have no pagan worship at his table' had a 'hard time arguing' with Squanto describing His God as simply 'the creator'. In fact every time I watch the movie I internally (sometimes verbally) quote the scene as it plays out in the book. When the Brothers say a prayer of thanksgiving over the food 'heavenly father, we thank thee for these and all thy blessings', Squanto says his own prayer in Algonquin. His prayer ends a second later than theirs.

Brother Paul: What is that word?

Brother Daniel: Kissulk? 'tis the name of Squanto's God.

Brother Paul: And what exactly is the function of this um...this god?

(He would have no pagan worship at his table. Brother Daniel looked to his friend and prompted)

Brother Daniel: Squanto, tell us about Kissulk."

Squanto: He is...the creator. (It was hard to argue with THAT.)

At some point Brother Paul asks what his life was like back home, where he's from...

Squanto paused. first he had to grasp the English, then he had to form a response.

Without the narration, this moment could not be properly communicated to us. Which is why Squanto's pause as he thinks, 'what did you ask me and how do I respond' is not in the film.