On the Salmon River

Mon-El and Nikita were finally taking a honeymoon. They had decided to camp beside the Salmon River in Idaho, a place that was now quite personal to them.

Nikita decided to go swimming and was in the water when they were surrounded by a small band of aliens. One solider dives in and brings her out, her head is spinning when she is brought to the bank. They accurately assume thier captors to be aliens who keep them under guard...but refuse to speak to them directly.

“What do they want with us?” Mon-El pondered.

“It's not about J'onn or the D.E.O. It could be we are simply luck of the draw.”

“The universe is rarely as random as all of that. As you should know Nikita.”

“Te-Lal.” Nikita said coolly.

“You know this ass-hat?”

“I'd call him a son of a bitch except I don't know his mother.”

Nikita was strapped down into a chair. Tel-Al was abusing her. The alien in charge, called it an interrogation. He wasn't wrong. The subject was restrained, held under a bright light and regularly struck by one of her interrogators while the other stood a little apart and asked questions. Nikita clearly had a history with Tel-Al which made me worried something else was going on. Tel-Al put his hand on Nikita's back, where the Xavallen heart sits. He knew what species she was. Since she looks as human as Superman or I, it told me he must have known her. Then I watched as he drew his hand across her stomach, stroking it.

“Enough!” I cried out. “Sir please,” I said to the other officer. “If it's information you seek, about the D.E.O, humans or ourselves ch...I have those answers too. Get them from me. Put me in her place, I won't fight you, but I implore you do not let him hurt her anymore.” The officer, stared hard at me, weighing the truth of my words. “I'm not a liar. And she is the most important person in the world to me. I will do ANY-thing to keep her safe. Commander, and I call you that because you are in command here, let her alone. Whatever information you are seeking, get it from me, not her. If she can endure 6 years at the D.E.O as an enemy alien she can certainly endure your lieutenant's interrogation. But I cannot.

“This woman is most valuable to us.” Tel-Al said briskly.

“Nikita and I both work for the D.E.O now. Whatever you want to know I'll tell__” I turned to the commander. “__you. Just please, don't let him hurt her anymore.”

“We have an accord.” The commander stated. “You will have the night together. And tomorrow You will be brought up for further interrogation. I hope for your sake you are more forth-coming than your friend.”

“My Wife.” I corrected automatically. “I would not have offered what I did for anyone else.”

“Who are you sir?”

“My name is Mon-El I'm the former prince of__” Nikita let out a piercing scream. “No!”

“NO!” I cried out. I looked to her and saw her leg was pulled around the side of her chair. Tel-Al had torn her leg sideways, disjointing her knee. The first thing I noticed was her face flushed red with pain. The second was a look of triumph on Tel-Al's face.

“Why?” I demanded furiously.

“To see how you enjoy your night together you cretins.” Tel-Al answered.

I turned to Armek. “You promised you would spare her further pain, especially from him.”

Armek didn't answer me. “Whoever you are, you're no better than my own people. And I'm a bloody Daxamite.”

“You should be careful who you shout your insults at prisoner.” Tel-Al told me harshly.

“And you should be more careful who you punish for what reason.” Armek answered just as fiercely. “I gave them the evening together, I gave him time with his mate. He had given his word that in exchange he would cooperate. Both promises shall be honored Setlik. And should have been to begin with.” Armek continued in a biting tone, unhappy with his subordinates eagerness. “Cor-Dan, take the female to the infirmary. Mir-an, take that upstart down to the brig.”

“Thank you.” I told Armek. “I don't know what else to say.”

“You bargained for her safety and I agreed. Whatever else I am I am not a liar.”

“Is there, I don't mean anything untoward by this I promise, is there some kind of history between Nikita and...Te'Lal?”

“If there is I didn't know about it.” Armek answered. “And I intend to find out.” I breathed in sharply. “From Te'Lal.”

He was reassuring me Nikita was safe from him. I nodded my thanks.

When Nikita was carried back into the cell it was with the utmost care. She was laid gently against the wall. The guards didn't say anything to us. Nikita looked up at me. “I can read the missing notes Mon-El. 16 of the 23 major powers consider us a protected species. White Martians are among the other seven.”

“Well that sure as hell explains their temperament and eagerness. But what is the deal with Tel-Al? He has thorns so far up his rear end he could be chewing on them!”

“I'm rubbing off on you. You said 'rear end' not 'ass'. But that's exactly what he is, a vicious asshole. Someone I haven't thought about in over a decade. And hadn't thought about in twice as long then. Until Me'gann, I'd only met a White Martian once in my life. He took control of my mind and body and had me beat to death a four-legged farm animal. I felt every blow I gave that creature as if it was against my own body. I couldn't stop. He gave me back my self-awareness just in time for me to see my own hand snap that creatures neck. Trying to slap his face was the closest I've ever come to hurting someone just because I wanted to hurt them. And believe me I wanted to. He knocked me out with one punch. That White Martian...was Te'lal. Now do you understand why I so badly want to call him a son of a bitch?”

“Heh, yes! I don't understand why you DON'T.”

“Because that would be insulting his mother, not him. Traditionally we don't call anyone a bastard, unless the word literally applied; unless we honestly believe they are an illegitimate son or daughter of their parents . Besides my people don't use insults or profanity anywhere near as casually as humans.”

“You are truly the finest, purest individual I have ever known.”

A few slow, soft hours later...

“Calling J'onn here would be a suicide mission for him, you know that right?”

“I wouldn't ask him to risk it either.”

“I knew there was a reason I loved you so much.”

“I know how much he means to you Nikita. He means a lot to me too.”

“You maintain your promise?” The commander said the next day.

“I put my wife above any other fealty but there are some things you will need to compel from me. Especially if this is going where I think it's going.”

“You want me to COMPEL you to tell the truth?”

“You will have to beat me black and blue before I tell you. I'm fully expecting it. I'd just rather it be me than her to be tortured for information.”

“I am glad we understand each-other.”

I sat in the chair Nikita had occupied. “Then can we get down to it please.” A Metal restraint slid around my neck and both my wrists.

“Who is J'onn and why is calling him here suicide?”

“Compel me. He is our captain, the director of the D.E.O. I'd have to lie to answer the 2^nd.”

“I should have started with something smaller. You are not Kryptonian. What are – Terak-Mah Estu Vishar.” I interrupted him. That earned me a brief surge of energy throughout my body. It was gone in five seconds. But he seemed to get the message. Not only to be specific with his questions, but to be crystal clear with his intentions.

“What IS a Daxamite?”

“Our planet neighbored Krypton but we were nothing like them. We were a self-absorbed people; dedicated only to our own futures and our own pleasures.”

“And you count yourself or no?”

“When I left I wanted to live like a normal person. I was the crown prince of Daxam. I left __because I was determined to see what ELSE life was.”

“What is your – what was your original connection to the Xavallen Nikita?”

“Short version? I got picked up by the D.E.O because a kryptonian who works with them thought I was responsible for an attack on one of their leaders. Nikita not only stood up for me, she made me feel like I might find my place there. That was...wow...almost 6 years ago now.”

“What is J'onn's full name?”

“Director J'onn Jo'nzz.”

“He is your captain?”

“I...actually don't think of him that way but among other things, yes.”

“Why would calling him here be suicide? Oh don't look at me like that you knew I'd work my way back to it eventually.”

“J'onn would be disappointed in me.” I felt the surge of pain again. But he hadn't hit any controls. “Of course, you don't need sonic devices and such, you can do this to my mind. The restraints are just to keep me from squirming too much, is that it?”

“It's a combination of both, Mon-El of Daxam. I can make you feel as if the skin is being peeled off your skull or that there was fire in your brain. Or simply borrow from the example of the humans and let you simmer in the agony of this energy manipulator until you pass out.”

“Well I'm not sure that's a particularly human example...but I understand your point. And may I now ask you a question?” The commander nodded. “Are you a solider?” He nodded again. “Then please tell me your name. It will be much easier having something to call you.”

“Armek.” He replied simply.

“Have you heard of Enkarens?”

“Of course.” He almost barked.

“J'onn is an Enkaren-level warrior and solider. I would rather you beat me into submission until I plead with you to make the pain stop.”

“Rather than what, prisoner? Rather than betray him? Seriously?” Tel-Al laughed as if I'd just told an uproarious joke.

“I serve under his command. The D.E.O is as much my home as it ever was Nikita's. So Yes!” Armek put his hand on my shoulder and gave me a warning look. I quieted down. But he wouldn't stop staring at me. “Go ahead.” I challenged him. Armek's human looking hand turned a gnarled white. Sharp, cruel fingers appeared and dug into my flesh. I tried to stifle a scream. Armek pushed two of his fingers right through my skin. And I screamed.

“Now I understand. J'onn is a warrior and you do not consider yourself one. You are doing what you can to resist me, because you want to make him proud of you.”

“If I'm going to betray him to one of you people, I prefer to have had no choice. And yes I want to be able to honestly tell him I was no weakling about this.”

“You might be more of a solider than you think.” Armek said as he walked behind me.

“Because I don't want to betray my captain?!”

“Because you acknowledge that you probably will. And are as concerned with what he'll think of you when he learns you betrayed him as you are the betrayal. Which I find fascinating.”

“Yes. Nikita says you...Wait. You're just asking me about him because you heard Nikita last night aren't you? You're not actually here for J'onn?”

“Correct. We are here for a Tareth-Carr.”

“I'm sorry a WHAT?!”

“A deserter.” Tel-Al replied easily. “We were to rendezvous here on Earth, in Olympia and she disappeared into Earth's wild-lands.”

“You mean the barren rockscape between Olympia Washington and the Great Lakes.”

“Yes, exactly.” Tel-Al replied. Then he looked harder at my face. “How do you know that?”

“...You're White Martians.”

“You're going to tell me you didn't already know that?”

“I wasn't giving a revelation, I was answering your question. Nikita told me she's met at least 2 of you before. You, Tel-Al and one other. I've met a White Martian before, here on Earth. Quite literally between the oceans and the lakes.”

“You've met Me'gann Mor'zz?”

“Almost exactly a year ago, on the banks of the river where you captured us.”

“You know what she is, what we are, and yet you're protecting her?”

“Nikita says her Xavallen physiology makes her essentially allergic to the presence of either White Martians or Infernians. And Nikita considers her a friend. She is different, you'd have to blind not to see it. Also, Nikita risked who knows how much sorrow and rejection from J'onn defending the woman that you're hunting. Also Me'gann came to my aid at Elana's request even though I hadn't asked... either of them to do so. I have never been happier to be able to honestly say I don't know where someone is!”

“You will eventually tell me.” Armek near-growled at me.

“I cannot tell you what I do not know!” I barked back at him. “But I can tell you why asking J'onn to come here and rescue us would be suicide for him.”

“I'm listening.”

“Because while J'onn Jo'nzz is from the red planet he is not what Nikita would call a Creech-ta or a Crishnaka-Sareth. He is a GREEN Martian. How easily humans assume one for the other and the vast difference Phobos or Deimos makes is woven into the story of when J'onn and Nikita met for the first time. And I've heard that story too many times not to know what to expect of you concerning him.”

“I don't know the Xavallen language well enough. Translate!”

“Creech-ta: Ignorant, arrogant asshole. It's how she described the original director of the D.E.O Hank Henshaw. Who's face J'onn still wears. She said Hank would fit it well among White Martians. Crishnaka Sareth is the darkest thing a Xavallen or Enkaren could call you. It means Ambassador of Hell.” I dropped my head, half in exhaustion, half in disappointment. Apparently Armek could tell I wasn't performing. He waved a hand at a nearby guard. Cor-Dan, I think.

“Return him to his cell. And from now on Tel-Al you will keep your mouth shut unless you actually have something to add.” Armek ordered.

“Look, you're after J'onn, Go after him. I have full confidence in his ability to kick your ass.”

“And if we're after Me'gann Mor'zz?”

“Then I pity you.” It took a second for Armek to realize someone other than Nikita had answered the question. “Stand down, or there WILL be bloodshed.” Superman warned.

“You're here to save your little pet? How very heroic of you.”

J'onn Jo'nzz phased through the wall into the laboratory. “WE are here to rescue our friends. Armageddon can wait for another day.”

“But I will not let it wait.” Tel-Al insisted.

“What You will allow is irrelevant. One cannot maintain a siege with the enemy behind. Nor can one fight in closed quarters, underground against superior numbers. We will have another chance to achieve victory. A day when the odds are more in our favor.” Armek insisted harshly.

“A true warrior does not postpone battle.” Tel-Al urged.

“But a true solider DOES follow orders.” Armek and I said at once.

"And going up against a Kryptonian, an Enkaren, Another Martian, a Daxamite who is now quite free to fight for his mate, in close-quarters does not seem like very good odds. From what I understand you've been waiting 300 years to achieve what should have been accomplished long ago. You can wait another few days." Clark reminded them.

It was hard to argue with either Armek or Superman's logic.

The Purest Love

The love men can have for one another; a love without need. A familial bond without description or cost...except the cost of being interested in that person's happiness and well being far more than in your own.

“It's quite alright Nasir. I'm going to miss you.”

The shock on the other man's face was considerable. “Where am I going?”

“Nasir, I...just please, take the horse and be about your business.”

“Forgive me but are you jesting with me?”

“No why would I...Why would anyone say that in a jest?”

“Why would you let me go?” Nassir responded instantly. And then slowly as if he were trying to work out in his own head what was going on. “Sir, this is your prize of battle. I was the servant of the man you killed in fair combat. I am your prisoner...your slave should you wish it.”

“Nassir, I understand the custom of position. At least I think I do. And I will have no part of it. Especially not if it's simply because of my rank. Which is why I ask, is it because I won, or simply because of a title I inherited from my father?

“Sir, by our very understanding of fate and destiny it is for you to say what happens now. We are taught that ALL is as God wills it and I truly believe that. My master challenged you, more for sport than on principle mis-prizing what he saw. If you take me with you, if you claim me, I will see it as God's justice. That being said I must ask: What do you intend to do with me?”

“I will ne-ver own another human being. And I refuse to make you pay the price for your master's choices. I was little better than a slave myself before Godfrey...before my father found me my life changed very much overnight. We left for the Holy Land together but he did not survive the journey that brought me here. Regardless of how this came to be, I will not have you following after me because of who my father happened to be. This new life was thrust on me; I've done nothing to earn or prove my rank as a knight. I have done nothing to deserve the admiration I see in your eyes right now. Except be a quick learner when Godfrey gave me a brief fighting lesson. I will find my fathers people and live my life. But I cannot and will not ask you to be a part of that. Go in peace.”

Sometime later after defending Kerak, Balian will say. "So that's why you were so eager for God's justice. It wasn't 'your masters' choices." Having realized rather inescapably that Nasir was the lord.

'You truly must be a stranger here' was the look on Nassir's face as he explained his fate was in his hands because of his victory. That it really was entirely in Balian's hands what happened to him, just from their understanding of fate and chance, the turning of fortune's wheel.. Balian had more than earned the right to decide his own fate. But that Nassir's willingness to become his 'prisoner or slave' was an understanding and allowance due to Balian because of his rank. “That being said I must ask: What do you intend to do with me?”

“I will ne-ver own another human being. And I refuse to make you pay the price for your master's choices. I was little better than a slave myself before Godfrey...before my father found me my life changed very much overnight. We left for the Holy land together but he did not survive the journey that brought me here. Regardless of how this came to be, I will not have you following after me because of who my father happened to be. This new life was thrust on me; I've done nothing to earn or prove my rank as a knight. I have done nothing to deserve the admiration I see in your eyes right now. Go in peace.”

“I cannot Milord.” Nassir said slowly but firmly. “All is as God wills it. I truly believe that. And if I didn't before I would now. I cannot see how the two of us could have come together at all, so soon after you even arrived unless Allah brought us together. At any rate, I am not permitted to leave your side. I refuse to leave a stranger to Jerusalem alone and friendless, lost in a sea of faces.” He smiled softly and continued. “Call me a servant or protector if you want, and if that helps you accept MY decision. It would not be far from the truth. No matter what ELSE my life is now, it is bound to yours, and it is by choice, not compulsion I assure you; inshallah.”

Peace to Dining on Ashes

This is the far more natural, open conclusion to the five-part Dining on Ashes saga.

I FINALLY found the beginning of this conversation!

Elana and Nikita are of similar empathic races. They are the most open-minded and human looking aliens anyone at the D.E.O. have ever met. Which is why it made sense to everyone that Elana could easily 'sync up' with Nikita and bring her back. Elana explains what is needful to bring her back and why she can't do it. 

 "It would require someone both compatible and in sync with her to pull her back from death. I'm compatible; I'm not in sync!" She looks around and takes it by a different handle. "It would require someone who has been with her for at least six years day in day out who is on the same wavelength as her. I'm on the same wave-length. But she and I are practically strangers."

In other words, despite the fact that they agree with each-other on 95% of everything, they have never actually spent any time together. And in this case, it has to be someone who is BOTH."

"Could I do it?" J'onn asks in a voice barely above a whisper.

"I...I believe so." Elana replied thoughtfully. "The two of you have always been so in-step...and you've known her longer than anyone."

Several days later Nikita is at her apartment, watching a Cinderella musical when J'onn knocks on her door. She waves him in, finishes whatever she was whispering to herself about and  invites him to sit down with her and watch the movie. The instant he sits down, she hurriedly stands up.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"What are you drinking?"

"It's a kind of seltzer, apparently mildly alcoholic." J'onn give her a 'why do you say it like that' look. "I've never known anything that is not alcoholic to calm both my nerves and my stomach like this. Here, let me pour you a glass." She pours him more of the seltzer into a glass identical to her own. "Chet na-she Hezikiah Nest-Za Ki." She says raising her glass in a toast. She brings the glass up to the side of her face before drinking. "Alah Ka-tiya Kian-em." A traditional toast in her own language which translates loosely as "To life friends and family...To God whoever that may be." 

J'onn actually blushes. "I'm sorry I, wasn't sure you recognized me."

"I know what is familiar to me J'onn." She replied with a small laugh. "Although I have to admit I'm not always sure why. Why does Jeremiah act like he's afraid of me?"

"It's a caution stemming from concern, not apprehension." J'onn said automatically. His face grew a look of regret. “You know how much we both care for you right?” Nikita nodded slowly. “I'm hoping you and I can talk about something...that we've been dancing around for a long time.”

Nikita sat herself down on her couch. "Yeah what is that about anyway? Seriously J'onn, what happened between us? I feel like apologizing to you for something. But I also feel like grabbing you by the collar and trying to shake some sense into you. Which makes no freaking sense!"

"I underestimated you and scared you off in the same stroke."

“J'onn I am asking you as formally as I know how, to be direct exact and forthright. It shouldn't be that hard for you.”

“Do you recognize the name 'Hank Henshaw'?"

A dark look cast over Nikita's eyes. "Only as a complete jerk who tried to keep Jeremiah away from his family. And when I was here initially he 'didn't like me very much'. I am being polite. He must be dead now, long dead because I try to picture him and all I see is you."
"That might be because I am wearing his face. I met you and Jeremiah for the first time when you both served under Henshaw. Your word for him was Creech-ta. And it fits.”
"...It would have to; I wouldn't use it otherwise." Nikita said offhandedly.

"I can sense that something is weighing on you." I told her gently. "I don't need to be a telepath to read you either."

“J'onn, what happened between us?”

This caught me off guard. “Why do you ask? I am not surprised that you ask, but i want to hear from your perspective, why do *you ask the question?"

“J'onn, you are my best friend in the entire universe I know this. But I keep alternating between wanting to apologize to you and wanting to grab you by the neck and shake some sense into you. Which makes no freaking sense.”

"I...that is a much longer story than either of us have the time or emotional threshold for."

"Did I do something to offend you? Did something stupid one of us said linger for so long we are actually used to the distance?"

"God no and absolutely not." I told her forcefully. "Something did happen between us. Something we both regret and with the help of time and friends have managed to...learn the better of is the only way I know how to put it. But it was my fault. It was ENTIRELY my fault. The last thing I want you to do is blame yourself. But you are the kind of person who would do that." She looked at me with a curious expression. "I've known you for 8 years now and with your help I have learned two unequivocal truths. One: You give grace upon grace to everyone. Even me, even strangers. Two: You shoulder blame and responsibility that is not yours to bear. At first I thought you were simply interested in sharing the burden for the sake of easing someone else's shoulders. Like with Jeremiah or Kal'el. But it's more than that. You force the burden on to your own shoulders, whether it's yours to bear or not. There is nothing you could ever have done to offend me Nikita. You are my family here."

"Yeah the D.E.O. has become a family on Earth for both of us. That much I can see."

"No Nikita. You are my family. I never had a family on Earth, not a sibling or a lover until I met you. Now I have, not only a family but someone to care for. I love you like a daughter. I've felt feelings of love, responsibility and protection I have not felt in over 300 hundred years. I'm sorry I never took the time to tell you."

"J'onn, EMPATH remember? Believe me, I knew."

"Is Mon-El around, has he come to see you?"

"He and I were together, alone but together for a long time, right?"

"You were best friends who became a couple. He asked my permission to ask you to marry him. I take it by the ring on your finger you said yes?"

"He is not living up to his reputation as a Daxamite. He's a perfect gentleman. Maybe that's why I love him so much...he's Horrata. Proof that there are exceptions to the rule for every species."

"And Me'gann is further proof of that."

"I do not understand."

"Do you know who she is?"

"She...is complicated. She chooses to wear the skin of a Green Martian for the same reason you choose to look human...to put us at ease. But she knows I can tell the difference so it's not like she's trying to hide...from me anyway."

"I never did understand that. You can sense the presence of a White Martian?"

"J'onn do you remember when Mon-El first showed up? I knew the attacker was Infernian, not Kryptonian. And certainly not a Daxamite." J'onn simply nodded. "My Xavallen physiology reacts extremely negatively to the presence of Infernians and White Martians. It's a fact of my own biology, not my empathic powers. Me'gann can't help her ancestry any more than I can. But my empathic powers tell me...What I sense from her as an individual calms me down. She's...from an empathic perspective, absolutely beautiful."

“Elana couldn't tell the difference then.”

“From what I understand Me'gann chose to take the form of one of Elana's closest human friends and couldn't pull it off. Because she asked for something Martin would never ask for. But that Me'gann was a White not a Green Martian...she wouldn't have been able to tell.”

“But I doubt she would have been too worried. She's an empath and would have sense the same things you did.”

“There's that. And the fact that Enkarens, although maybe not half-breeds, could kick a White Martian or a Green Martian's ass if the occasion called for it.”

“Wait what?”

“J'onn, if Elana was entirely Enkaren, she would be in a cell like the one I lived in for five years. Henshaw would have considered her a perfect example of how dangerous aliens are. And he would have been 100% justified in doing so. A ticked off Enkaren is a scary thing to witness.”

Friendly Neighborhood Martian

 Jeremiah and His New Friends

Jeremiah would never part with Nikita if he had literally anything to say about it. Within 3 weeks of escaping the D.E.O. they were apprehended by a man who was CLEARLY alien...and a warrior. They have spent almost as long in an old room under his, literal non-sarcastic near silent care.

Nikita and I were alone but together for more than a week. The alien would come, feed us, ask us a few rather simple questions and then leave. I was having trouble making heads or tails of him.

“This is...I don't even know how to finish that sentence.”

“Nikita calm down, you'll only exhaust yourself.”

“I have...You're right of course. It's just our host, for lack of another word confuses me.”

“How do you read him? For holding us prisoner he doesn't seem particularly interested in us.”

“He's trying to make sense of us. More specifically, of me.”

“Does he know who you are?”

“In that I'm an alien. The rest of it, I think he has...a nearly accurate picture of everything. I'm starting to get the suspicion that I'm 15 degrees off of everything I know about him.”

“How do you mean?”

“Either he's extremely a-typical for his race or I got the two of them confused to begin with.” She looked down again. “Then again, he would have had even longer than I did to learn otherwise.”

Jeremiah looked sad a moment. “I take it by 'to learn otherwise' you mean 'to learn what living on Earth would have taught him'.” Nikita nodded solemnly, her straight auburn hair shaking slightly with the motion. "How long have you had to learn the ways and normality's of Earth?”

“I first landed on Earth not too long before you landed on the moon.”

“Okay one, you do not look that old. And two, how much older do you think he is?”

“My people live about 120 of our own years. I don't know how long that is in yours. And...he's been here for at least 300 years.”

“Okay how do you know THAT?”

“He's a Martian. No matter what else he is, he's a Martian. Which...I hate being so clinical about the damn thing but Mars has been...inhospitable for the last 300 years.”

“Wait, are you saying that depending on which race of Martian he is...”

“Jeremiah, if that man wanted us dead we'd BE dead.”

“Then why the hesitation?”

“Because I'd rather believe that the way he's been talking to me is a result of him living on Earth for the last 300 years and not because I got it wrong which race of Martian was which.”

“Okay, now you really do need to sit down and vague out.”

“That sounds like an exceptionally good idea.” She sat down on the floor, feet together, knees high, looking rather like butterfly or a very awkward spider. Her head dropped and she entered what Jeremiah knew to be a meditative state. A pose she maintained into the next morning. Her knees were almost as high as her head was low. She could have been sleeping except her eyes were moving around, she was clearly aware of her surroundings. She didn't even look up when their keeper walked into the room. Jeremiah could sense something was wrong. In the 20 something days they'd spent in his care, his attention had been split evenly between Jeremiah and his charge. If anything he had payed slightly more attention to the middle-aged human male than the unskilled but confident female with him. Perhaps he'd recognized the custodial role Jeremiah had in her life. Something was different today: the man's eyes never left Nikita's face.

“Come with me, now.” He said to Nikita, who still did not raise her head. “I'll not ask again.”

Jeremiah stood between his friend and their host. “Leave her alone.” The man raised his hand, as if to backhand Jeremiah. In the last instant he pulled himself back. Jeremiah gave a grateful look before continuing his plea. “Please, whatever you have planned for her, take me instead.”

“For all you know I'm about to take her away and execute her. Do you still volunteer?”

“No, but I know you're not going to do that. Nikita was right if you wanted either one of us dead we'd BE dead by now. What you want from us, what you've been after this entire time is answers.”

“Yes. And it's about time I get them.” He took Nikita by the wrist. Jeremiah grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him away. The man looked both pleased and amused. “Your actions are heroic, if exceedingly unwise.”

'What do you want with her?' Why the sudden interest in her specifically?' 'Leave her alone you animal!' These expressions stretched themselves across Jeremiahs face in about 2 seconds. He said none of these things. Instead he held out his hands in an emphatically non-threatening posture. “Sir, and I call you that because I have nothing else to call you, for what must be almost a month by know we have been nothing but civil with each-other, though exceedingly impatient. A friend of mine told me that even enemies can give each-other compliments. And we've lived that, so far. If you hurt her, my restraint will go right out the window. And I will probably die trying to take you down. But I swear on my life if you let her go, you can do whatever you want to me__in payment of that debt.” This speech did not have quite the effect he'd intended. The green-skinned Martian actually backed away from his human charge and cast down his eyes.

“You, care for her?”

“This surprises you?”

“Among my people not to introduce yourself is extremely rude, even among enemies. Form what I understand that is a tenet across the galaxies. We have given you our names Sajen. I'd appreciate the same courtesy. Nikita's voice came as almost a balm to the conversation.

“I do not understand.” Jeremiah admitted.

“Neither does our host...at all. He is almost as blind as Henshaw himself and he can freaking read out minds to learn the truth of our souls!” Nikita's voice displayed no anger as she said this. The only emotion to come through her voice was...regret. “You've figured out I'm not Enkaren. You must have known I was not a threat. It follows you thought Jeremiah was...to me if not to yourself. To ask a question I have had in my mind since you started questioning me: Phobos or Deimos?”

“You know the difference?” The Martian inquired, astonished beyond measure.

“I know what they are, I don't know the difference...That was the entire problem on my part.”

“In the early days of Mars there were two brothers, Phobos and Deimos. Their rivalry and bloodshed was the reason for the split of the Green and White Martians.” I learned that from an Enkaren woman I once knew here on Earth. From which I understood that Phobos and Deimos were like Ishmael and Issac from the Old Testament. Except they split along such divergent paths they became two separate races rather than founding two separate religions. I never learned who was whose progenitor.”

“You never knew if my kind were...Ishmael or Issac?”

“I've never met your kind before in my life. And the White Martian I met was...Hank's favorite example of how dangerous aliens could truly be. She'd been in that cell for over a decade when I met her. No one could hold completely to their morals after that.” She spoke with unrestrained bitterness. “In case you haven't figured it out yet, Henshaw was a Creech-ta. If not a Chrish-naka Sareth. And until now you seemed equally blinded.”

“Why do I get the feeling that if you had known I belonged to Deimos... you would have...”

“ 'Deimos Pah, Tar-ek Ni-cha.' would have been the first thing out of my mouth 3 days ago.”

“Could someone provide me with a translation, please?” Jeremiah asked, nonplussed.

“What she said was that I've failed or disgraced the name of my progenitor. She just needed to know which of the brothers I came from before saying it. White Martians are...”

“Monsters.” Nikita finished for him. “I was reasonably certain of that because of my other alien friends. I just never knew who came from whom.”

“How in the name of rational thought are you speaking the Enkaren language so naturally if you are not, yourself Enkaren?!”

“Because it's my native language as well!” Nikita replied, openly laughing at her host.

“But you...you're not...” He rubbed his left forefinger against her temple, as if tracing something that shouldn't be there. “Are you Xavallen?”

“Why should that be of particular interest to you?”

The alien actually bent his back forward and backed away from Nikita. “I...my name is... J'onn Jo'nzz. And I must humbly beg your pardon.”

“I...do not understand. Please you owe me nothing.”

“Okay, I'm officially lost.” Jeremiah admitted.

“No less so than I.”

“You...you don't...” J'onn actually stammered.

"If you're referring to something about my being Xavallen, I wouldn't know about it. My parents taught me more about Enkarens, Brevaks, Martians and pretty much any other race in the galaxies than they did about my own kind.”

“Nikita, I was as wrong about you as Henshaw. I will find a way to make it right.” He walked away without another word.

“Most humans, most races in the galaxies at all no matter how much they try to lift the head of another and put the needs of their friends first, would still put their own life, their own survival before anything else at need. Xavallens don't. They are, by comparison to their brethren, Friars and Philosophers.”

“Getting a 'B' in self-preservation but an 'A' in protecting others, even strangers?”

“If I understand you correctly, yes.”

“I'm afraid I still don't understand your...attitude change.”

“Enkarens and Xavallens are sibling races to each-other. Enkarens are – genetically speaking in trouble – but also far superior to humans in most respects. And apparently, along with the Atraxi, they all speak the same native language.”

Realization blanketed Jeremiah's face. “And she doesn't make sense for an Enkaren.”

(The implication being J'onn thought Nikita WAS Enkaren and it confused him endlessly)

J'onn nodded. “Xavallens are a protected species.”

“Wait, what?”

“Their home-world became uninhabitable over 200 years ago. Most of them are nomadic. But some have assimilated, to varying degrees, into other cultures. Jeremiah, – For one thing may I call you that? – Of course – for 16 of the 23 major powers in these galaxies, if I'd known what she was my interrogation of her without cause, without defiance sent would have been a crime.”

"They are...that protected."

“Most of us realize we need a voice like theirs in the chorus. And...her people are not good at making enemies. So most of us...really wouldn't see the point in conquering them. White Martians being the obvious exception.”

“No, Jeremiah he is absolutely 100% correct. White Martians are considered blind, militaristic assholes to any race that are not themselves militaristic and self-superior.”

“But the fight might have been taken out of the one we...Hank has in custody.”