Arrow is a Silent Guardian

 WOW. I DO surprise myself sometimes.

Oliver Queen is brought in chains and made to kneel before Rashe Al Ghul.

Death comes to all things Mr. Queen. Even one as powerful as myself.

Oliver looks up with resolution. “Kill me. With me out of the way, the Arrow won't be a problem for you anymore. We both know why. But spare the life of Captain Lance.” He took a breath and closed his eyes a moment. “Quentin Lance. Let him go. I will BEG for it if needs be.”

“His life means that much to you.”

“If you wanted to force me onto my knees, all you would need to do is threaten his life. Like you I am many things; a liar isn't one of them. Please, don't punish him for his loyalty.”

“You have shown tremendous strength, fortitude, power. An honor and integrity all but absent from the world outside the League.” Rashe sheathed his sword. “But you mistake me. I don't want to kill you. I want you to take my place. I want you to become the next Rashe Al Ghul.”

“Tell me how is Malcolm Merlyn getting along?”

“Why would he matter to you?”

“Malcolm Merlyn as he is known now chose family over destiny.”

“Malcolm was one of you?”

“After his wife died he drifted. When he killed the man responsible he felt even more lost. He came to us seeking a purpose, a direction for his life. A way to not simply seek justice but execute it. We gave him that.”

“And now he has found new purpose in life; being there for his daughter.”

“You know the man?”

“I am not eager to give you more people to use against me.”

“So long as he does not murder an innocent, Malcolm Merlyn and his family are safe from us. But that's not why you hesitate. You were talking about your own family. How is that so?”

“Tommy Merlyn and I were as close as brothers growing up. His father was nearly non-existent in his life. Two years ago Tommy died. Forging his own path...and dying a hero in the Glades. Eight months later I learned that my sister, Thea...is biologically Malcolm's daughter.”

“Learning he has someone in his life to protect...that would shift ones priorities.”

“He felt he could correct his mistakes. He hoped he could be a better father to her that he was to Tommy, or perhaps than Robert had been to her. And to tell the truth THAT would not have been hard. Robert was...as good a father as he knew how to be. Now that Malcolm and Thea have each-other...their lives are complete.”

“As it should be."

“Will you let the Arrow rescue Captain Lance?”

“Why do you specify?”

“As Oliver Queen I could never successfully rescue him. But I was also asking if you will help me keep my secret. Let him think of the Arrow however he thinks of him. And let me don that hood at least one last time to rescue someone so...so important to both of us.”

“Tell me, do you ever get tired? I've been alive for 280 years Mr. Queen, I've never met anyone who spoke of their various identities as you do. Do you ever get tired, protecting as the vigilante and as Oliver Queen anyone important to either man?”

“In this case, that doesn't matter. Quentin Lance matters to the Arrow as much as he matters to Oliver. But to answer your question... Yes I do get tired caring so much about everyone that matters to 'us'. But I only ever get tired from it not of it.”

“You speak quite wisely. You do realize I am still going to...”

“Yeah I kind of figured that.”

“Your audacity is as refreshing as it is unwise.”

“Somehow I got the impression that lying to you was far less advisable than being stupidly honest. Besides, I'm more concerned with getting Quentin out in time. It's kind of drowning out all other considerations.”

“Rescue the Captain. Go back to Starling City and continue looking after the ones you care about. We will continue this conversation another day. I don't have to tell you, you have indeed given me another tool I can use to break your will IF I choose.”

“If that day comes we shall see what 'God in Heaven has in store'. Until then I will simply say thank you for your consideration...in letting me save my friend.” He continued pointedly.

"I understand Loyalty Oliver Queen. And I respect it."

Dressed once more as the Arrow, Oliver marched through Nanda Parbat. He searched through the cells as well as the open rooms. He heard a cough. Oliver looked through the bars of Lance's cell. The man was sitting up, holding tightly to the edges of his bed. He was looking hard at the floor. With one well-aimed kick Oliver broke down the door.

“Captain Lance, I have to get you out of here.”

“Oliver.” Quentin Lance said faintly. Oliver froze in place. “...Save Oliver Queen.”

Trying not to let his relief show. “Don't worry, he's safe. He told me to 

Arias Gets a Visitor

Arias Guatemala in Earth-9 Jeremiah Danvers was brought here to live and to stay after the mission to terminate a particularly dangerous alien went the way it did. 

Jeremiah stayed with J'onn as kind of a willing  captive. Exchanging himself for not only Hank Henshaw's life but his freedom. 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 perfectly normal. Basically he has every liberty except liberty himself. 

This is the best version so far I have found for what, if it was real, would be one of thier favorite memories. I think this says something in a sharper and more distinct way. It just gives a different tone or attitude to a memory. 

Elana is a half human and one-have of an entity called FIRESTORM. Martin Stein is her nuclear mate. They basically stumbled into Arias and now Martin, Jeremiah and Elana are having a most revelatory conversation

 "But from what you've told me your father was human. Though he must have died." I said patiently. 

“That's where the word and thought of being a freak comes in.” Elana said coldly. “That I am half-human, not other than human.”

“Your ire seems self-directed.” Martin observed.

“It is. I can't get around it. It freaking sucks. It doesn't usually bother me this much but it still sucks.”

I looked at Martin and he glanced back at me. Neither of us understood her. The question was which of us would ask for clarification.

“Forgive me for being dense but why is being a 'half-breed' less than normal?” I asked eventually.

“There are only a small number of species my people are allowed to join with. My mother was considered a rebel and anarchist anyway but was disavowed for lack of another word because she came here to find a mate. Sounds separatist and elitist right? She thought so too. Her drive to challenge the preconceptions and assumptions of our culture made breaking this particular practice -breaking away from our culture to pursue love on equal grounds- the most natural thing in the world for her. I was one year old when she learned the truth. It had nothing to do with racism or superiority in any fashion. Our genetic-Enkaren genetic make-up is such that there are only a handful of species we can procreate with and produce a healthy child...or a child at all. It's a matter of the organs being in the wrong places and serving different functions than they 'should'. Contradictory building blocks and 'instructional data'. Outside of literally 4 other races, most blended offspring would die a horrible death by the age of five. Human DNA is relatively compatible to ours. Either that or far more resilient than the races in our 'neck of the woods'. " Elana ran her hand down her shoulder, placed her palm flat over her heart, lungs, stomach and around her throat, as if pressing on her windpipe. She tapped her knee, her collarbone and her rib cage. "With me, everything works. Nothing works well as it should. Enkarens have no issue with humans and I have would have no problem being half- human. Being half-human and half Enkaren is what sucks. But it's also glorious."

“Yeah. If you were entirely Enkaren, we would have kept you in that cell.” I whispered.

“And your biological humanity allowed you to save my life...every day since we met.” Martin said regret and remorse filling his voice. Mixed if possible with a little self-disgust. “No wonder you didn't want to talk about this!”

(A few days later)

"Jeremiah. Hank Henshaw is a much better man than you would have known. I can say that much with certainty." I looked at her, genuinely surprised.

"You've kept in contact all these years?"

"Well no, but Xavallens don't tend to lie without a damn good reason and I don't know what reason Nikita would have to back him so completely unless she actually agreed with him."

I am fairly certain my face went white.

“My own people's language, the official language on my home-planet, the first Earth language I learned wasn't even English. I landed in a very ethnic community. Not diverse but...you can take a guess.”

“Chinatown in San Francisco.”

“Nail on head. I should tell you, at least a little of my being 10 degrees off is that I don't value hitting the nail on the head as far as convention. only communication... expression.”

“Which is why Jean has you do the introductions. You don't claim either world but you understand them both...I take it.”

“There is that.” A deep voice said from the doorway. “And she sees beyond sight in a way I have never encountered before.”

“I...ah..” I stammered at the giant green man standing in front of me. “I realize you have no reason to trust me but you can believe me when I say I am glad to meet you.”

“And I you, Jeremiah. What is your surname?”

“Listen, whatever else is going on, I don't doubt your intentions. And I hope to prove mine. Starting with what a friend of mine would have called 'proper introductions'. I'm Jeremiah Danvers. For my part, you can consider me a friend.” I offered him my hand.

For a moment the alien I took to be Jean Jones looked at my hand as if he didn't know what to do with it. Then he straightened himself like a solider and offered his own right hand. “I am...J'onn Jo'nzz.”

"So Sarrin said she was to take me on a walk down the main road. Am I correct in thinking that was actually out of her own head?"

"Yes...But she said it that way to illustrate to you that I was alright with it. Sarrin can be...more direct than precise sometimes."

"I'm getting that impression." I said with a smile. "Let me wash up, I'll come with you." I thought I saw a sad look in Jean's eyes as I turned around to wash up in the bowl Sarrin had brought to me. I understood why as soon as I saw Sarrin give a slight bow to him and duck out of my room.

Something Superman Missed

 The conversation here in the D.E.O. of Earth 21 was mentioned a total of five times in the 8 chapters of this story. But has never been shown...because it has never been written. Until the last week of 2024. None of this ever took shape in my head before now. Later on, when the Dining on Ashes story arc begins, Superman mentions this conversation to J'onn. But we have never actually seen it. So I'm proud, excited and strangely  content that at last we see how These 3 first met each-other. The first time Nikita and Kal-El of Krypton, met Mon-El the former prince of Daxam in my sprawling Earth-21 D.E.O. Odyssey.

Superman is questioning a newly arrived/newly captured D.E.O. prisoner who he is convinced is responsible for a recent attack on a US senator. His passion is fueled in part because he saw the effect that intruder had on one of his friends. But is not actually listening to him or even wanting the answers he is demanding. His attitude is "Daxamite you are" "Daxamite why did you do this?" And so on. Then he says something to the effect of 'the D.E.O. won't believe you any more than I do.” At which point Nikita steps forward with a very rare and VERY scary angry face.

“That's enough Superman!” Nikita near-barked at the Kryptonian. Who turned around with surprise and more than a little confusion. “We have no more reason to be suspicious of him than we do of you. Daxamite or Kryptonian, the D.E.O. has no particular opinion of either one of you. If you're going to speak as one of us, make sure it's something that would actually come out of our mouths.” She walked up to the cell that contained their latest alien guest and began typing something into the console. “Guilty until proven innocent has no place at the D.E.O. Not anymore anyway.” She sounded almost bitter, and she realized it. “And by the way, you're not one of us. You are the D.E.O.'s closest alien ally but still an ally of the D.E.O. Not a part of it. We do not share you're particular prejudices about each other. I can say unequivocally that as far as Director Jo'nzz is concerned you leave assuming the worst about someone the instant you walk into the door of this facility.” 

“What are you doing?” Superman asked in a puzzled voice.

“I'm getting him out of that cell.”

“You don't have the authority...”

Nikita chuckled. “Actually, I do. You don't have the authority to stop me.” Nikita tilted her head, up. “C.A.T. Two-three-one-seven-four-six-one-one oblique oblique. Enable.” The force-field powered down. “Come on out.” Nikita instructed the prisoner.

“I don't understand.” The man in the cell pondered. “You're actually letting me go?”

Nikita looked caught out. “I can't let you out of this facility. You'll have to speak Director Jo'nzz about that. But there is no reason on the face of this planet -Earth- for you to stay in this cell. Come on, I'll take you to my compartments.” Nikita turned to Superman. “You assumed he's responsible for these attacks because he's a Daxamite. The very fact that he's a Daxamite makes it impossible. I never thought I'd say this to someone wearing that crest but open your damn eyes.”

“Okay, now I'm really confused.”

“The crime Kal-El is accusing you of was perpetrated by either a Kryptonian or Infernian. It involved heat vision. While you have a Kryptonian's strength and speed under our yellow sun, you do not posses any of their other incredible abilities, like heat vision. During the attack, I collapsed. Superman as he's known here on Earth was with me, and rightly guessed the attacker was responsible. Except only Infernians and White Martians affect me in such a way. It's a physiological response by body has to the very presence of either of those beings. It's physically impossible for you to be responsible for any of this.”

“Whoever you are...” The stranger began. “I don't want to get you into any trouble.”

“As far as trouble with him,” she pointed to superman “that's my own damn fault and I'll take it. If you mean with my superiors...” Nikita turned back to Superman. “When J'onn asked me to join the D.E.O. I gave one condition. If I actively believe a prisoner does not belong in this cell, I can act on that belief without asking prior permission. It is literally a condition of me wearing this uniform... Such as it is.” She continued, looking at her loose fitting black top and its longer-than-regulation sleeves.

“Something else is troubling you.” Superman observed.

“Two things. Among my people introductions should come before almost anything.” She pointed to the center of her chest with her right hand. “My name is Nikita, I'm Xavallen. You?” She indicated the former prisoner.

“My name is Mon-El. I'm the former prince of Daxam.” They looked at Superman.

“The two of you would call me Kal-El. Most people on Earth know me as Superman.”

“The more troubling part is the self-defeating blindness of 'do you have anything to say for yourself, anything' and then continuing to talk as if you'd given him a chance to answer. I think he would have had something to say for himself if he wasn't talking to a brick wall. I know I would have.”

“I keep forgetting.” Kal-El said, his voice much weaker than it had been.

“Easy thing to do, we never told you. I understandably do not like to think about it.”

“I'll have to ask J'onn. Will you let him know I'm alright to talk to?"

“He doesn't know.” Nikita insisted fiercely. “I mean, he knows the basics, we went through the timeline fo everything the first time we even met but if you want to know why this is all so personal for me, why it burns me to see you falling into the same trap, I never told him. You'd have to talk to the man whose FACE J'onn is wearing for that.” Nikita motioned Mon-El out of the room. He followed her silently.

"Okay this is stating the obvious but, they know you're an alien.” Mon-El observed.

“Yes.” Nikita replied simply. “Human looking alien who prefers reading a book and sharing knowledge to picking up any kind of weapon. The rest of this conversation should wait to be said in private.”

“Can't argue with you there.”

Nikita turned a corner and suddenly they seemed to be at a dead end. She simply turned to the door at her left. Pressing her four fingertips against the pad next to the door she addressed the air. “One-one-four. Seven-point-two.” The door slid aside.

“Does everything here work on a numerical system?”

“No. Only things requiring my participation. They're number sequences from my personal past, things that don't have any meaning to anyone else.”

“So not only would no one else ever use them, no one else could ever guess them.”

“Exactly.”

“I'll make us some coffee. It's a pretty cool way to clear your head. Take a seat.”

Mon-El noticed the blue couch, the short but wide table that spread along it and the two seats in the far corner. He sat down on the floor in front of the table, facing the sofa. “I don't suppose you could pour me a glass of ale instead?”

“I'm not against it. But J'onn will be coming soon to check on you. Clearing fuzz out of your brain is more advisable.” Nikita rummaged around in her kitchenette for supplies. Soon the coffeemaker was gurgling. She came out carrying two narrow white mugs and a tall thermos. Setting the objects down she smiled at her guest. “Mon-El, in case I didn't make it clear, you are most welcome here. Certainly as far as I care.”

Mon-El took the hint and pulled one of the chairs up to the table and sat down. “J'onn,” Mon-El began. “Same man as director Jo'nzz?”

“Yeah. And that's as good a starting point as any.” Raising her glass. “To friends and family may whatever 'God' may be keep them safe and hold them in his hand.”

“Cheers to that.” They clinked mugs and drank.

“I've been an agent of the D.E.O...the Department of Extra-normal Operations for about three years now. But when I was first brought in through its doors, I was considered an 'enemy alien'. No particular reason for it, except the answers I gave didn't make any sense to Hank. A man named Hank Henshaw was the director of the place at the time. He thought the only reason I looked this human is because I was trying to fit in. Kept trying to get me to show him what I really look like.” She held her hands to her face. “This IS what I really look like. He couldn't figure any reason for me to have lived on Earth for more than 50 years without telling anyone I was an alien, except espionage. In the 50 years I had been on Earth I told exactly two people that I was Xavallen. One was an alien himself. The other a good man who used to work here. I had no reason to tell Hank Henshaw a damn thing.”

“What changed?”

“The director, J'onn Jo'nzz, he's an alien himself. And a shape-shifter. When Hank Henshaw died J'onn assumed his identity. We've spent the four years since trying to reform the D.E.O into something better than what I found. I have never felt more 'Henshaw'd' then I did when Superman was talking to you. And I serve under a man wearing his face.”

“Deus. No wonder this was so personal for you.”

“This is literally the first time I've really talked about it. I don't even talk to J'onn about my time here before. But there is something, there is one memory I should share with him.”

The door chimed. “Come in.” A black man in his mid forties, well built with short-cropped hair entered the room. A holstered weapon hung at his side. It could not be doubted he was a person of authority, and preparedness.

“I take it this is our latest alien visitor?”

“Yes. But introductions should come first.” Nikita replied.

“My name is Mon-El; I'm the former prince of a planet called Daxam.”

“I am J'onn Jo'nzz. I'm the director at the Department of Extra-normal Operations.”

“From what Nikita tells me you're a fair-minded man and patient. I hope you will be patient with me.”

“I'll do my best.” J'onn answered with a soft smile. “We'll put you in guest quarters for now. And I will tell you up front you will not leave the D.E.O unaccompanied. Do you you understand and accept this?”

“Does leaving with Nikita qualify as 'accompanied'? If so I have no problem with it.”

“Nikita, was everything above board?”

“I can honestly say I don't understand the question.”

“I am not concerned with how much of our operation he knows about. I'm wondering how much of your history you've shared with him.”

“If I didn't know you, I'd think you were jealous. But to answer your question, or rather the reasoning behind your question: I trust him as much as I trust Winn, as much as I trust Kal-El, as much as I trusted you when I first met you.” J'onn took half a step back. “And if you look at the past 28 minutes of my memories, you will see the extent to which that is true.” She nodded sagely. J'onn put his hand to Nikita's temple. A few seconds later his eyes snapped open. Nikita regardeed J'onn with dreadful seriousness. „eemaanadaaree hamesha zaroori hai. jo zaroori hai (eemaanadaaree) vah vyavsayik ya apratyaashit ho sakata hai, lekin kabhee bhee naasamajhee nahin hotee.“

J'onn mentally translated her words. Honesty is always necessary. What is necessary (honesty) may be unprofessional or unexpected, but is never unwise.

"I understand that." He turned to Mon-El. "Excuse us for a moment."

"What was the memory? I saw the mention of the memory. What was the memory?“

"I will tell you about it...when the memory itself is the focus of the conversation. It's when things changed. Hank decided he could trust me to a certain point, and I decided how much I would do for Jeremiah, that I would literally do anything to protect him. Although it turned out I wasn't very good at that part.“ Nikita said with self-directed contempt. “You know, someday you're going to tell me what happened.“

"I don't understand. You were there. You did everything you could to protect Jeremiah from me. I gained at least one friend that day because of you.“

"But I don't know what happened to him! I know he died that night. And given how you talk about him and the fact that I saw Henshaw's body, he probably died saving you from that monster. But I don't know what happened to him. I was a little busy being unconscious.”
“You...You don't...”

"J'onn I know Jeremiah didn't survive that mission. That is ALL I ever knew.“

J'onn explains Arias to the D.E.O.

After J'onn returns Jeremiah to the D.E.O the first order of business is of course to explain to the director, Hank Henshaw what the hell has been going on this whole time. At first it starts out as just a retelling of what really happened at thier first meeting. but it goes further -and deeper.

“No leave him alone!” Jeremiah cried out. He placed himself in front of Henshaw. “Is this how you prove your superiority, by attacking a defenseless solider?” He challenged me.

“You defend him, why? What has inspired you to rush to his aide like this? What makes him worth it?

“He does nothing to inspire loyalty in me. But he is my commanding officer; I cannot let him come to harm. I will not just sit back and let you knock him senseless. You don't keep kicking a man when he's down. Even MY people, even in open war we keep ourselves to that standard. So please, if for no other reason than to prove yourself better than us, leave him be.”

I stepped away from him. Jeremiah just stood staring at me. Henshaw eventually passed out, presumably from pain. He did have a bullet in his leg.

“You don't want to kill us?”

“No, I don't. But I cannot let you go back. It is difficult to explain but I cannot let you go back to your superiors. And I would not willing let this man stay. He... would be considered poison. I don't want anything to do with him. Obviously I am not willing to go back with you.”

“Then let him go back. I'll stay.” I was genuinely surprised to hear this. And asked him to elaborate. “I am suggesting__and requesting that you take me with you__ and let Hank Henshaw return home.”

“You're willing to give up your own freedom for this man's life?”

“Sir, and I call you that because I have nothing else to call you, I swear on anything that matters if you will not only let him live but let him GO, then without your order to the contrary, I'll not leave your side.”

“I had never met a human like him. I bent down, pressed my hand against Henshaw's temples and led Jeremiah through the jungle, to Arias. Where he has lived for the past six years. With myself and Sarrin as his most constant companions.”

“Sarrin?”

“One at home in Arias who looks almost as human as you Kal-El.”

“That is when you gave Hank memories of his death. Why did you?”

“Because the only way we would be safe from Henshaw and the rest of the D.E.O. is if Henshaw and the rest of the D.E.O believed Jeremiah was already dead. I assumed if he knew Jeremiah was still alive Henshaw would not rest until he had rescued Jeremiah from me. He would consider it his duty as a solider to retrieve one of his men. Or he would want to proverbially kick him in the ass for abandoning his duty. And yes, from that moment on, Hank Henshaw absolutely remembered Jeremiah's death at my hand.”

“At your hand?”

“I take it Hank Henshaw never fully disclosed what happened that day?”

“Only that dad died saving Hank's life and it changed his heart forever. It's why he and Nikita back each-other so completely. It must have been from you but...”

“It was more than stepping in front of a bullet.” Henshaw said suddenly. Three sets of eyes looked up. “When I thought Jeremiah died saving my life it was more than just taking a bullet that was meant for me. I saw him...heard him offer his life for mine. You turned him into a hero...beyond anything.”

“He was a hero and that was the choice he made.” J'onn Jo'nzz said with a hint of anger. “He sacrificed his life for yours. In a way that took far more awareness than stepping in front of a bullet. When he offered his freedom in exchange for yours, he was offering his life. In a way that was far greater and more meaningful than offering his death for yours.”

“He became a hero for you too.”

“And for the last six years he has lived with us, forbidden to leave Arias but free in every other sense of the word. Sarrin and I...both grew quite fond of him. I mean he is dear to us. I am sorry, but I am eager to return to Arias soon as I can.”

“To return to Sarrin and the rest of your people?” Superman observed.

“If it wasn't for the news Elana brought to us, and what Nikita means to a man I consider a member of my family, I would never have considered setting foot inside this place of my own free will. Jeremiah has chosen to stay. Now that I know the rest of his story, I'm alright with that. From what Jeremiah told me, I assume I am free to go.”

“You are free to leave at any time Sajen.” Hank said blithely. “And you have my thanks.” J'onn looked up. “There's something that's right in front of my face now, literally that I didn't realize before. Nikita...has become convinced that it was Deimos not Phobos that we were chasing. She has educated me on a lot of what that means. And for taking care of Jeremiah...you have my thanks.”

“Second that last part.” Superman exuded. “I would have hoped you'd stay around for another day, tell me about your time with my father...and Arias. But we have no intention of holding you here against your will.”

“It seems Jeremiah was right about you all along Director. You are nothing if not a man of honor.”

“Now you're sounding like Nikita.” Hank Henshaw replied.

“ 'You will never do anything in this world without Courage. It is the single greatest quality fo the mind...next to Honor.' Sarrin's people, the Atraxi share that axiom with my own. Apparently Xavallens share it with them.”

“I've been hoping to ask you, what is it with the three of them?”

“3,000 years ago they were one race on one planet. Then the fled to the stars.”

J'onn looked almost reproachful at this entreaty. “Jeremiah. You don't need to stay with me." Jeremiah started and looked intently at his host. "I'll miss you sure. But I wouldn't keep you here against your will. I thought you knew the choice...you've always had it.”

“Not always J'onn. But I know what you mean. When I traded my freedom for Hank's I hadn't seen any of this. I didn't know what to expect. Having seen Arias, seeing first hand your regard for Sarrin and hers for you, things changed. It doesn't change the fact that I promised I wouldn't leave your side. At first I felt like a prisoner. But I swore I would stand with you, that I would never leave you. From what I understand that was a 'til death do us part' oath of loyalty, if not brotherhood. I mean...I'm not wrong am I?"

“That you are like a brother to me Jeremiah, of course not. You're the best friend I've ever had, the closest to a brother I have known on this planet. As far as staying here because you made an oath, that's what makes no sense. The oath is invalid if you're staying only out of obligation and duty, do you not see that? We will always be brothers, Jeremiah. You don't have to live under my roof for that. But if you have someone in this life who needs you, I would never knowingly keep you from them. That's part of brotherhood at all!”

"I...I see your point." Jeremiah said sheepishly. "Does that mean I might be able to convince you to come along?"

“How else would you get back? They can't send anyone for you. They don't even know you are alive.”

“Again...good point.”

                J'onn explains his situation to Jeremiah.

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...sincerely hope you'll be comfortable here. I have to go see a friend. There's more of us here than you realize...strangers and friends.”

“Thank you.” Jeremiah said in a heartfelt tone.

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

J'onn returned the next afternoon. Jeremiah got to his feet the instant he walked in the door. J'onn looked almost disquieted. “There is no need for that, please.”

“I'm sorry, I guess, 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?”

“House arrest.” Jeremiah said.

“Then I suppose 'house arrest' is the best description. I do not intend to treat you as any sort of captive Jeremiah. I...I suppose 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 look me in the eyes when you talked to me, without either anger or fear. If I didn't have as high an opinion of you, I would not let you stay here.”

“That makes sense I guess. 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 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. And might well have been the 'friend' J'onn had mentioned before. “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, which we obviously are not. 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.”

“Ah, 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 off into the near distance, lost in thought...or perhaps in the past. I regretted upsetting him. He was a good man. If nothing else he was a man of honor and someone his people, the people of Arias looked to as their rock. That's when I realized what Sarrin had been talking about. They follow J'onn because they believe in him. Not because he was their commander or governor. And when Sarrin had mentioned she didn't wear a bracelet, she'd been trying to tell me she wasn't bound to J'onn by anything but self-decided loyalty. That she didn't obey him.

J'onn's Legacy of Hope

 Nikita, the one narrating used to be a prisoner here under Hank Henshaw. And the first indication that Hank really had changed was when he assumed the better, not the worse of thier latest alien guest, Mon-el.

A Legacy of Hope Begins

I heard a shot from Hanks gun; but he wasn't the one who fired. Hank went down on one leg. The monster we'd been hunting standing over him. “No, stop please.” The alien stopped his fist raised in the air. “Is this how you prove yourself superior to us 'savages', attacking a defenseless solider?”

“What is he to you that you defend him?” The green skinned alien asked me bluntly.

“He is my commanding officer. I might not like him very much but I cannot allow him to come to harm. To be clear I make no excuses for his actions or my own. But you don't keep at a man after he's down. Even in plain war that's just plain cowardice.”

Hank was looking at me as if I was a purple-scared dragon with 3 heads.

“You're a strange one whoever you are.” I heard the other man say.

“So what happens now?” I prompted him.

“I...do not know. I cannot simply let you go.”

“Then let Him go__I'll stay.”

“That is not a promise one can make lightly.”

I straightened my back and put my hands out at my sides. “For his safety and freedom. If you will not only let him Live but let him Go, you can take me. I will not leave and I will not fight. I take my oath on it.”

“There is nothing I like better than an honorable man.” The stranger said peaceably. He knelt down and touched the side of Hank's face with the back of his hand. Henshaw's eyes closed and he seemed to drift off to sleep. “Send a signal for him to be retrieved, then leave your radio and come with me. Or better, give me your radio.” I handed it to him and was not entirely surprised to hear Hank's voice come out of the man's mouth. “This is commander Hank Henshaw requesting immediate extraction.” Silence on the other end. I repeat this is – Director Hank Henshaw requesting extraction.”

“Acknowledged director we're 7 minutes out.”

“So, what happens now?”

“There's a stop along the road, an old hiding place nearby, we'll head there.”

“Wait, please...we should at least learn each-others names.”

“Yes, in fact that should have come first. Not to introduce yourself is considered extremely rude even among enemies. We are no longer enemies.” He finished hurriedly.

I pointed to my heart with my hands. “I'm Jeremiah Danvers.” I extended my hand.

He looked at it like he'd never seen anything like it before, straightened his back and extended his right hand. “I am...J'onn Jo'nzz.”

“I figured we'd have to have this conversation eventually.” I said to Henshaw as he stood at the threshold of my compartment.

“I take it you know why I'm here?” He replied in a voice full of restraint.

“To get to the truth of something that hasn't left your sight for a long time. Not clearing the air as much as 'so we know where we stand'. I'd actually like it if Mon-el were to stay and hear this. But that's just me."

"For someone besides us to know why the assumption makes sense and why it isn't so, might help us both. He's not obliged. Mon-el, if you want to, you should go.”

“If only to learn where you two stand with each-other, I'm staying put.”

Hank nodded sagely, then turned to Nikita.  “Why don't you hate me?” 

“There are two and a half reasons why I should feel how I do. One is that I made the decision a long time ago that I'd rather feel sorrow than anger and disappointment than regret. And this is back on Atridia. Every time I made a fist ready to punch something I would transform that anger into kind of a sad, quiet feeling. It got to the point people thought I was incapable of experiencing or even understanding the very normal emotions of anger or hatred. In an entire species of empaths, the inability to feel emotions made me seem 'damaged'. Really I just didn't see the point of holding a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone. I carried that conscious choice here. It's not an oath, it's a way of life and it is NOT easy. I've spent my life being not just a person of peace but of restraint, self awareness and impeccable composure and forbearance. I don't see that changing. Kind of ironic because 'change' is the other part of this.”

“What do you mean?” Mon El asked me simply.

“My people have a religious teaching that when put to its essence says that a righteous man who turns to rebellion and sin should not count on his former righteous deeds to save him from judgment. But likewise a sinner who turns from his rebellious ways and does what is right should have no fear; for by no means would his former sinful deeds be counted against him.” I turned and looked at Henshaw. “Unlike most people here, I know what you used to be like. But I also know who you are now, today. And that is who I'm dealing with so that is who matters. It sounds kind of new age and twisted but I don't sense anything in you that even resembles what I sensed from you before. In case you don't remember, I didn't hate you back then either. That's the half reason.”

“Okay...I'm probably going to regret this but what's the full reason?”

"...Hank if Jeremiah thinks you're worth DYING for I'm pretty sure you're worth forgiving!”

“Okay, I need to hear both of your histories right now.” Mon'el interjected.

“Basically Jeremiah Danvers was an agent of this organization at the same time I was a prisoner of it. Hank did everything he could to try to get me to make sense to him. But he had more than a few assumptions that got in the way. Like that my people were the dominant race on my planet. That because I looked as human as I do I must be hiding who I really am. Jeremiah risked a court-martial to break me free from this place. He told me that he had to stay but that I should go and live a life that I thought was truly worth living. Obviously coming back here and serving under you is not what he was thinking of when he said that. But I truly believe it fits his criteria: it's a life I chose for myself and I'm fighting for a cause I believe is worth fighting for. I mean...I would consider you my friend...Hank.”

Hank Henshaw blushed and then smiled. “Thank you...for your trust in me.”

When I woke up I was lying on a cot. There wasn't anyone around and for a moment I couldn't figure out what was going on. Then I remembered searching for the 'monster' that Hank was so determined to get rid of. Hank was so set on getting rid of this 'thing' he had never considered he might lose to it. I had to smile.

“One thing J'onn absolutely is not is a monster.” I said to no one in particular. 'this place is a wigwam more than anything else, the kind red Indians live in'. I thought. And that's when I realized I really should keep my observations inside my head. The curtain that was used for a door pulled back slightly.

“My I come in?” A female-sounding voice inquired.

“Yes, please come in.”

A young woman maybe in her early 20's with short-cropped cinnamon colored hair came in carrying a tray of food in one hand a and a wide-brimmed basin in the other. Except for what looked like fish scales at her temples she looked completely human. She placed the tray on the cot beside me, the bowl down at my feet and politely backed away. It was only then it occurred to me I might not be a prisoner in the strictest sense of the word. “Thank you.” I told her gently. I honestly couldn't think of anything else to say.

“You are most kindly welcome.” She replied. “I'm being formal, not pretentious.” She added in just as casual a tone.

“I get it. I hope you don't mind if I ask, what species are you?”

“I am Atraxi. My name is Sarrin, and you?”

“Jeremiah. My name is Jeremiah Danvers.” She moved to the window at the wall to my left. She smiled as she pulled back the curtain.

“Listen, I don't want to sound ungrateful but...why are you doing this?”

“If you mean why am I taking such care of you, J'onn asked me to make you comfortable as possible. If you are asking why we care-that is for J'onn to explain.”

“J'onn is, a good man.”

“That he is. Also the only friend I made here on Earth who is still alive.”