Three days later
Wayne Tech's advanced testing facility outside Gotham buzzed with activity. Journalists and VIPs flocked to the sprawling campus of runways and hangars, drawn by yesterday's mysterious invitation that had sent shockwaves through media circles worldwide. The invitation promised to "usher into the final frontier" through a collaboration between "Wayne Tech and Emperor Orach." The name alone guaranteed attendance—Orach's previous contribution, the revolutionary Medpods, had transformed healthcare globally. No media outlet dared miss this event. As attendees settled into their seats, speculation rippled through the crowd and expectations mounted. Everyone knew they were about to witness something extraordinary once more.
The event began as the lights dimmed and Bruce Wayne stepped onto the stage, commanding immediate silence from the audience. "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming today. I appreciate your attendance despite receiving the invitations only yesterday. To those who think this was poorly planned, I have just a few words: 'Sorry, but no.' You see, while this surely inconvenienced many of you, Emperor Orach wanted to gauge your response and identify which media outlets were truly committed to learning about our innovations. So to all who made it here today, congratulations—your names will be noted for future announcements."
He gave the audience a smile before continuing, "Now, let's get on with why we're all here. Today, we take the next step for mankind. We stand on the brink of a new era—a new age of exploration." He gestured to the side, and Victor Freeze, introduced as Orach's project lead, joined him. Victor beamed as a sleek, futuristic shuttle was rolled out of the hangar, its hull gleaming under the lights. The crowd murmured, unable to contain their awe.
Victor approached the microphone with a confident smile. "What you're looking at is our test shuttle, featuring a groundbreaking propulsion system. We've spent nearly a year developing both the shuttle and its drive, and it wouldn't have been possible without Emperor Orach's invaluable guidance. Today, you'll see exactly what this technology can do." With that, the HRE technology on stage activated, and a display materialized through the shimmering air.
The scene shifted to a live broadcast from inside the shuttle—revealing none other than Vicki Vale, seated next to her cameraman, both buckling their safety harnesses. "This is Vicki Vale, reporting live from inside the test shuttle. I was picked up in secret this morning, told only that I'd be part of something extraordinary. I had no idea I'd be going to space today!"
Victor's voice echoed in the cockpit. "Enjoy the ride, Vicki. You're about to experience history."
The pilot ran through rapid system checks, his hands steady. With a gentle push of the throttle, the shuttle lifted off vertically—no thunderous roar, just a smooth, silent ascent that left the audience stunned. The craft banked skyward, slicing through the atmosphere with ease.
Vicki, eyes wide, narrated for the world, "The ride is unbelievably smooth. I almost can't believe we're leaving Earth."
As the shuttle breached the edge of space, Victor's voice came through again. "Ready for the real show, Vicki?"
"Let's see what this shuttle can do," she replied, her tone half challenge, half astonishment.
The pilot grinned. "Initiating hyperspace sequence. Countdown—three, two, one…"
On 'zero,' the shuttle and the broadcast vanished in an instant. The audience at the launch site gasped, as did viewers around the globe. For a heartbeat, the world held its breath.
Suddenly, the feed returned. Vicki's breathless voice came through: "We're… we're at Mars. We made the trip in an instant! And—wait—I'm not floating. The ship has artificial gravity!" Her cameraman panned to the viewport, Mars looming large outside.
Victor laughed. "Impressed? Or should we go even farther?"
Vicki's eyes sparkled. "Don't stop now. Show us what this shuttle can really do."
"Alright, then," Victor said. The pilot set the new course, the crew buckled in, and with another flash, the shuttle reappeared at the edge of the solar system. Pluto's icy plains filled the viewport. Vicki stared, speechless, before regaining her composure. "Victor, the world is watching. How did you make this possible? And what's next for Wayne Tech?"
Victor replied earnestly, "Today we introduce Hyperspace Propulsion to the world, but this is just the beginning. Our true goal is to bring humanity together in exploration and discovery. Toward that end, we're inviting all nations to join us as equal partners in this journey—no political strings attached."
His tone shifted as he raised his hand, pointing skyward. "I should be transparent about something, though." A chill entered his voice. "For anyone thinking about stealing this technology or undermining our mission for their own agenda, I have one message for you—Emperor Orach is watching, and trust me when I say that doing anything even remotely resembling that would be... extraordinarily unwise."
The tension broke among the crowd. There wasn't a person present who didn't understand the implications. Everyone knew a deadly sword of the Saiyan Empire—the Void Sentinel—hung over Earth. Victor's expression softened as he lowered his hand. "Let's move beyond our differences. Space is vast, and if we work together, we can make its wonders accessible to everyone."
Soon the shuttle returned to Earth, landing smoothly. Vicki and her team were greeted by doctors, who quickly checked their vitals. Victor announced, "No adverse effects. Today, humanity took its first step into an infinite future."
Social media exploded with praise for Wayne Tech's bold leap.
In Jump City, the Titans prepared for their own historic journey—their destination, the Vega System, aboard the Prometheus Javelin, Wayne Tech's flagship Hyperspace vessel prototype.
That evening, Rachel brought Barbara from Gotham and Kara from the Kent farm to Diana's apartment, where a warm meal awaited. Barbara had convinced her parents she was going on a trip with friends, while Kara had secured permission from the Kents.
"You know, now that we're about to leave, it feels surreal," Barbara said, settling at Diana's elegantly set table. "We're actually going to another solar system."
"I know exactly what you mean," Kara agreed. "I've visited other planets, but never traveled to a different star system. It's a little intimidating."
"Right? Humans have sent rockets to space, but nothing like this. We're essentially the first crew from Earth attempting something of this scale, and nobody outside our circle will even know about it." Barbara shook her head in amazement. "Thank goodness for Wayne Tech and Orach creating this ship for us."
"I was expecting something clunky like a rocket," Kara admitted. "Never imagined we'd have something so sleek with such an advanced propulsion system."
"These hyperspace lanes will open the entire universe to us," Rachel said thoughtfully. "But I understand what you're feeling, Barbara. It's a profound experience—one you'll never forget. I still remember my first journey through space aboard the Void Sentinel."
Diana smiled as she placed the final dish on the table while Orach turned off the stove, preparing to join them. "Interstellar travel represents a significant milestone for your team. That's why we thought you girls deserved a proper send-off tonight."
After dinner, Orach unveiled a case containing new uniforms. "For your journey, you'll need these." He opened the case, revealing a set of suits with color-coded jackets.
Rachel had approached him three days earlier about Starfire's situation and her team's possible mission. Orach immediately saw it as a perfect opportunity for Rachel to gain valuable field experience as part of a crew. The idea sparked fond memories of his own days serving aboard ships, including his crew's and his mother's flagship. A father's enthusiasm took over as he proposed the uniform idea to Diana and Rachel, explaining how shared uniforms had always created a special bond among his crews, regardless of their different backgrounds.
Diana and Rachel had exchanged puzzled glances at first, but seeing his excitement, they couldn't help but smile and agree. The three spent hours refining the designs together—a collaborative process that left Orach slightly mentally exhausted yet deeply satisfied. Now, beaming with pride, he presented their creation to the four women gathered in Diana's apartment.
Rachel stood, lifting one of the uniform jackets. "The uniforms mostly share a common design, but the jackets are color-coded by role. Purple designates command, red is for engineering, yellow for tactical, blue for navigation, and orange for science. Mom gets gold since she'll be our tactical ace in reserve." She ran her fingers along the material. "Each uniform comes equipped with universal translators, communication systems, trackers, and station markers—everything we'll need for deep space operations."
"Let's try these on," Kara said, eager to see how the uniforms fit.
Barbara stared at her own uniform in wonder, barely registering as Rachel gently led her toward Diana's bedroom.
Orach called after them, "Barbara, yours has something special as well. A token of appreciation for being such a good friend to Rachel."
"Thank you," Barbara managed to whisper as the door closed behind them.
In Diana's master bedroom, Barbara watched as Diana, Rachel, and Kara's battle suits shimmered and retreated into their terminals. They each reached for their uniforms laid out on the bed and began changing.
When Barbara picked up her uniform, something circular fell out, startling her. "What's this?" As she lifted the object, it briefly glowed with a soft blue light, scanning her quickly and taking a painless blood sample. A holographic message appeared in the next instant: "Hope you use this terminal well~Orach." The message faded, replaced by a bat symbol spreading its wings.
She looked up at Rachel in shock. "Rach, is this... really...?"
"Yup," Rachel replied with a warm smile. "You've been talking about wanting your own terminal for a while now. Dad heard and made it happen. It's a basic model, but don't let that fool you—it connects to Mother Empress in emergencies and has some serious capabilities. You'll run circles around most hackers out there now."
Barbara stared at the device in her palm. Taking a deep breath, she closed her fingers around it and nodded. "Thank you, Rach. I promise to use it responsibly."
Rachel and Diana exchanged approving smiles while Kara grinned. "With Barbara getting a terminal, our team just got even stronger," Kara said as she zipped up her blue navigation jacket and struck a playful pose. "How does it look?"
"Totally your style," Barbara said with an appreciative nod.
"Blue definitely works for you," Rachel agreed.
Clap clap
"The uniform suits you perfectly, Kara," Diana said with a warm smile before glancing at her watch. "As much as I'd love to continue this fashion show a little longer, we should probably finish up. Orach is waiting for us."
"Right," Barbara said, quickly grabbing her uniform. "My turn to suit up."
Minutes later, all four women emerged from the bedroom in their color-coded uniforms: Rachel in command purple, Kara in navigation blue and Barbara in tactical yellow, and Diana in her distinctive gold. The uniforms combined functionality with style, yet were comfortable enough for a long mission.
"Now you all truly look ready for a space mission," Orach said approvingly as the holographic displays before him vanished. He stood and extended his hand, creating a spatial ripple with a simple gesture. "Shall we?"
Later at Wayne Tech's reserved hangar, the full team gathered in their new uniforms. The Titans moved about excitedly, examining each other's gear and making final preparations.
Under the hangar's bright lights, they walked out onto the tarmac. Orach's team rolled out the Prometheus Javelin, its imposing silhouette drawing gasps of amazement from the Titans.
Final goodbyes were exchanged—Rachel embraced her father, while Diana pulled Orach close, kissing him gently. "See you soon," she promised.
"Be safe and look after one another," he replied, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "And if you need me, have Mother Empress contact me immediately or just reach out with our bond."
Diana chuckled softly at this man who would only show such tenderness to his family and nodded. "I will. Let's go—I don't want to keep our daughter and her friends waiting any longer."
Soon, the team boarded, each taking their assigned station. Kara and Kori at the helm in blue, Rachel and Dick as Captain and First Officer in purple, Donna at tactical in yellow, Karen at engineering in red, M'gaan at comms in blue, Barbara at tactical in yellow, and Richie at science in orange. Virgil joined engineering in red, Beast Boy took his place in science orange as the onboard xenobiologist, Jaime and Roy stationed themselves at tactical in yellow, with others settling into their designated positions. Diana, dressed in gold, leaned against the wall with arms crossed, watching the young heroes with a proud smile.
Rachel settled into the captain's chair. "All stations, report status."
One by one, each team member confirmed their readiness.
"Take us up, Starfire," Rachel ordered.
The Javelin ascended silently, its form rising gracefully as the cloaking system activated, making it vanish against the night sky.
Rachel gazed out the viewport, watching Earth shrink beneath them until they crossed into the void of space. She straightened in her captain's chair.
"Crew," Rachel began, her voice clear and confident, "this is our first mission beyond Earth. We've all gazed at the stars, wondering what it would be like up there. Today, we find out—and we do it while helping one of our own save her people and her world."
She paused, looking around at her teammates. "From what our prisoner told us, the Vega System isn't stable right now, and we can't expect a warm welcome. But when has that ever stopped us?" A confident smile crossed her face. "Most of us have stood toe-to-toe with gods and lived to tell about it. We've even survived my father's wrath manifestation at his worst. Whatever awaits us out there, we'll face it the same way we've faced everything else—together, as Titans."
The crew exchanged determined looks as Rachel turned to Kori. "Helmsman, FTL drive status?"
Kori, still processing Rachel's unexpected speech, nodded quickly. "Ready, Captain."
"Good." Rachel settled back, channeling her father's commanding presence with a slight wave of her hand. "Take us out."
Kori's fingers flew across the controls. "Course locked for Vega System. Hyperspace in three... two... one..."
The ship hummed around them, and in an instant, the stars stretched into brilliant streaks of light as they entered hyperspace, bound for the Vega System.
"Whoa... this is a hyperspace lane?" Kara whispered, awestruck by the view.
"It's gorgeous," Kori breathed.
"Absolutely incredible," Karen added from her station.
"I never imagined..." Barbara murmured.
"By the gods..." muttered Donna.
"My dad would completely lose it seeing this," Richie said. "V, you seeing this too?"
"Yeah, man. This is... wow," Virgil managed.
"So cool!" Garfield exclaimed.
"You can say that again," Jaime agreed.
'Jaime Reyes, I suggest we investigate the engine room,' the scarab spoke in Jaime's mind.
"No way. I know exactly what you're thinking."
'Jaime...'
"Not happening."
"..."
Roy just stared, speechless at the spectacle.
"Ahem"
Rachel cleared her throat, bringing everyone back to reality. "I know it's impressive, but I hope you've all gotten a good look. We have three days until we reach Vega, so let's use that time to learn the ship systems and review our mission objectives."
"Raven's right," Dick said, rising from the first officer's chair. "Back to work, everyone."
Rachel gave Dick a slight eye-roll before standing. "You have the bridge."
She and Diana left the command deck together, heading toward their quarters.
"That was quite the speech," Diana said with a proud smile once they were in the corridor. "I didn't know you had that in you."
"Thanks," Rachel replied. "Dad always said the best captains he served under would rally the crew before a mission. Figured I'd try it, but," she sighed, "talking that much is exhausting."
Diana laughed softly, walking beside her daughter. "You did wonderfully. In fact, I sent it to your father." She projected a holographic message showing Orach's reaction—a thumbs up and a proud emoji.
Rachel's cheeks colored slightly. "Great. We really shouldn't have taught him about emojis."
"Come on," Diana chuckled. "It's adorable watching him learn our ways."
"Yeah," Rachel admitted with a small smile, remembering how her father often struggled with Earth's primitive technology. She joined her mother's laughter. "It really is."
They continued toward their quarters as the Javelin streaked through hyperspace, carrying the Titans toward their first interstellar mission.
Vega System
Tamaran
It was a dark and frigid night in the lower dungeons of Tamaran's royal palace. Prince Ryand'r sat slumped against the cold stone wall of his cell, heavy energy-dampening shackles binding his wrists and ankles. The metallic restraints glowed with a soft purple light, designed specifically to neutralize a Tamaranian's natural abilities.
The cell was barely large enough for him to stretch out, and the small window high on the wall offered only a sliver of Tamaran's purple sky.
Ryand'r closed his eyes, the events of the past few days playing through his mind like a nightmare he couldn't escape.
Three days ago, he had risked everything to meet with the leaders of the resistance—brave Tamaranians who still believed in the rightful heir to the throne, his exiled sister Koriand'r. The meeting had been arranged in an abandoned temple complex in the outskirts of the capital, far from Komand'r's prying eyes.
"Prince Ryand'r," one of the leaders, General Karras, had greeted him with a fist over his heart. "Your presence honors us."
"The honor is mine, General," Ryand'r replied, glancing around at the dozen resistance leaders gathered in the shadowy chamber. "How fares our movement?"
"Growing stronger each day, my prince," Commander Taryia said, her voice low but urgent. "But the Empress has increased her patrols, making it harder to recruit. Also, we've received intelligence that she's planning something big—a major retaliation. Prince, I understand why you suggested to keep a low profile, but we need to act now."
Ryand'r frowned. "Act? What exactly are you proposing?"
General Karras spread a detailed palace map on the table. "We have people inside the royal guard. With one coordinated strike, we can eliminate the Empress and—"
"Eliminate?" Ryand'r cut him off, recoiling in shock. "This wasn't what I agreed to. Komand'r may be a tyrant, but she's still my sister—still Tamaranian royalty."
"She sold our people to the Citadel!" Commander Taryia snapped, her eyes blazing. "How many more Tamaranians must die before you see her for what she truly is?"
"This isn't the way," Ryand'r insisted, his voice firm. "Assassination will only bring more bloodshed and divide our people further. We need to unite Tamaran, force her to step down legally, and restore Koriand'r to—"
"My prince," General Karras interjected with a firm expression, "how much longer must we wait? We don't even know if Princess Koriand'r is alive, let alone planning to return and liberate us."
Ryand'r stared back in disbelief. "Are you listening to yourselves? She is the reason we've all rallied together—"
"Exactly!" Taryia cut in, stepping forward. "She should be on the throne, not that tyrant. We all believe that. But how long must we wait? The time to act is now!"
"Prince," another resistance leader said, his voice heavy, "most of us still believe the princess is planning her return, but she hasn't come back yet. Frankly, I don't care anymore. I just want that tyrant removed—"
Just then, the eastern wall exploded in a thunderous blast, showering them with stone and dust. Through the gaping hole poured Citadel troops, energy weapons blazing as they fired indiscriminately into the crowd.
"Traitor!" General Karras shouted at Ryand'r over the chaos. "You led them straight to us!"
"No! I swear I didn't—" His protests vanished beneath the screams and weapons fire.
Horror washed over Ryand'r as he watched the Citadel forces executing everyone without even attempting to take prisoners. Pure instinct took over as he channeled his Tamaranian energy, power erupting from his hands to blast back the advancing troops.
"This way!" he shouted, carving an escape path through the Citadel forces. Some resistance members followed him, still hurling accusations of betrayal even as he risked his life to shield them.
For several frantic minutes, Ryand'r fought with all his royal training, becoming a golden blur of energy and motion against the Citadel's elite forces. He managed to help several rebels escape before a stun blast caught him from behind, sending him crashing to the ground.
His vision darkened, but not before he saw Commander Pyre of the Citadel standing over him, lips curled in a cruel smile.
"The Empress will be pleased," Pyre said. "We've caught ourselves a royal traitor."
Now, as Ryand'r shifted against the cold stone of his cell, the heavy door creaked open. Two armored Citadel guards entered with a Tamaranian royal attendant between them.
"Prince Ryand'r," the attendant said, her voice barely above a whisper, "the Empress commands your presence."
"So, she finally wants to see me," Ryand'r said, his voice low and bitter.
"Enough!" The guards yanked him to his feet roughly. "The Empress commands, you obey. That's all there is to it."
As they dragged him through the winding dungeon corridors, Ryand'r could only stumble along helplessly, the energy-dampening shackles making any resistance futile.
The throne room doors swung open, revealing Komand'r seated on her throne, in her black and silver armor. Her cold gaze tracked the guards as they dragged Ryand'r forward and threw him roughly to the floor before her.
Around the throne stood the court—ministers, generals, and courtiers watching with expressions ranging from pity to contempt, though most maintained carefully neutral faces.
"Commander Pyre," Komand'r's voice echoed in the silent chamber. "Report on the operation."
The Citadel commander stepped forward with a deep bow. "Your Excellency, as ordered, we tracked the rebels but we found the prince meeting with known insurgents. They resisted arrest, and I regret to inform you that most were killed in the conflict."
Komand'r's face remained calm. "And my brother's actions?"
"He fought against your loyal forces, Empress. He helped rebels escape, including two ringleaders we were pursuing. His treason is undeniable."
Whispers spread through the assembled court.
Komand'r maintained her composure, though inwardly she was elated. While some rebel leaders had escaped, the operation had dealt a crushing blow to the resistance. Better yet, catching Ryand'r in open rebellion provided the perfect pretext to remove him permanently.
She crafted her features into an expression of regret. "Brother, tell me it isn't true. Did you really stand with rebels against your own family—against Tamaran itself?"
Struggling to his knees, Ryand'r met her gaze with defiance. "I went there to stop bloodshed, Komand'r. They were plotting your assassination. I was trying to prevent it."
"And yet," she replied coldly, "when my forces arrived, you fought against them and helped these would-be assassins escape."
"Your soldiers weren't making arrests!" Ryand'r's voice cracked with outrage. "They were executing everyone—unarmed people gunned down without warning!"
Komand'r descended from her throne, each footstep echoing in the silent chamber. "Even if that were true, brother, traitors deserve no mercy. And now you stand among them."
She raised her voice to address the entire court. "My loyal ministers, generals, and citizens—it breaks my heart to see my brother fall this way. But as your Empress, I cannot let family ties weaken justice. No one is above Tamaran's laws—not even royalty."
Standing over Ryand'r, she looked down at him with what appeared to be genuine sorrow.
"Ryand'r, Prince of Tamaran," her words resonated throughout the chamber, "I find you guilty of high treason against the throne and people of Tamaran. For this crime, there can be only one sentence."
Her gaze swept across the assembled court.
"Execution. At dawn, three days from now, in the central square—so all may witness the price of betrayal." She turned and climbed back to her throne. "Remove him."
"Sister, please—"
"Enough!" Komand'r's voice sliced through the air. "You forfeited the right to call me sister, traitor."
As the guards dragged Ryand'r away, his protests fading down the corridor, Komand'r settled back onto her throne while whispers rippled through the court. Cold satisfaction filled her as she contemplated the future. Her brother's public execution would send a clear message—one that would shatter the resistance once and for all. With Tamaran firmly under control, she could finally merge her forces with the Citadel's fleet and launch her master plan, a devastating assault on the Psions that would bring the entire Vega System to heel.
"If only she were dead already," she murmured, gazing through the throne room windows. A cold smile played on her lips as her thoughts wandered to her sister. "But then again, whatever those Psions plan to do to her, I doubt Koriand'r will survive it. Almost makes me pity her." A soft, cruel laugh escaped her, nearly catching the court's attention, but she covered her mouth just in time. "Perhaps after I conquer the hegemony's homeworld, I'll give her remains a proper royal burial. See, Kori? I can be merciful after all."
Turning to her court, she rose from her throne and began issuing commands, setting her preparations in motion.
Psionic Hegemony Homeworld
Lead Scientist Zaria yanked off her neural interface helmet, gasping as the connection severed. The subject's alien thoughts clung to her consciousness before gradually fading. As her vision cleared, she found herself facing the containment pod where an unconscious humanoid figure floated suspended in a regenerative fluid, a network of sensors monitoring every cellular fluctuation.
"You remain an enigma," Zaria whispered, approaching the pod. Her talons traced its surface as she studied the subject's serene face. "Each time I enter your mind, I emerge with more questions than answers."
She examined the data streams across her monitors, analyzing the information extracted from the subject's subconscious. "The knowledge we've extracted from your mind has pushed our technology forward by decades in mere months." She tapped the glass, her voice softening as her expression turned thoughtful. "It amazes me how a simple experiment uncovered this wealth of knowledge buried in your subconscious when so many complex procedures failed. Though I couldn't harvest that power within you, your mind itself is a power unlike any other. And yet..." she paused, "it makes me wonder… if your people possessed such advanced capabilities, why couldn't they save themselves from extinction?"
Zaria's gaze shifted to the schematics on the nearby display—intricate plans for a massive tower based on the extracted knowledge, already under construction by the Hegemony. "And this tower..." she whispered, tracing the design with her eyes. "Why does completing it feel so urgent?" She turned back to the pod, her reflection wavering across its surface.
"Your thoughts are subtly influencing mine," she admitted quietly. "And yet, I've hidden this from the others on the Council because the technological benefits are too valuable to question." Her claws tensed against the glass. "But this compulsion feels... too unnatural. As if this structure holds some deeper significance to you—a purpose your dying mind desperately preserved even as we recovered you and the other survivors from that wreckage."
A warning flashed on her wrist monitor. Zaria grimaced at her own elevated biosignatures. "I can't keep this up," she muttered. "Perhaps it's time to proceed to the next phase." Her gaze lifted back to the pod.
"Yes, it's time. The bounty hunter will soon return with the princess. She'll make an ideal mate for you." Zaria moved toward the control panel. "Though I disapprove of Fyraa's methods, I can't argue with results. The offspring from the other Tamaranian subjects have shown remarkable potential. They're already carrying second-generation specimens."
Her fingers deftly moved across the control panel, inputting a sequence of commands until a final prompt appeared in Psion script, "Disengage containment? [Y/N]"
"The princess will be yours alone. I'll see to that personally. Your combined offspring will create Hegemony's ultimate warriors," she said, pressing the confirmation.
With a soft hiss, the fluid drained from the chamber. As the restraints disengaged, the figure slumped to the floor while the glass barrier lifted. Suddenly, his eyes snapped open—one briefly flashing with a strange glow before returning to normal.
"So, you're awake," Zaria said, unable to hide a note of anticipation in her voice. "Welcome back to the world of the living... Kryptonian."
As the Kryptonian's eyes focused, he blinked several times, adjusting to the laboratory's harsh lighting. He surveyed the room, showing no fear as he took in every detail—the advanced medical equipment, monitoring systems, and the containment pod he'd just emerged from. A slight furrow appeared between his brows as he analyzed his situation. His eyes lingered briefly on the tower schematics displayed on a nearby monitor before finally settling on the alien figure before him, quietly studying Zaria's unfamiliar features.
Zaria observed him with interest, talons clicking against her datapad as she recorded his responses. "Fascinating. You've recovered significantly faster than our other subjects," she noted. "The neural translator is functioning perfectly as well." She straightened, meeting his gaze directly. "I am Lead Scientist Zaria of the Psionic Hegemony. We rescued you and other survivors from a damaged vessel after your escape from the interdimensional prison your people called the Phantom Zone."
"So others survived as well," the Kryptonian murmured, something flashing behind his eyes. "Good."
Zaria's eyes narrowed as she studied his reaction. "And you are?" she prompted, her tone making it clear this wasn't a request.
The young man drew himself up, his expression hardening. "Don't address me as if I were a child. I am Lor-Zod of Krypton, son of General Dru-Zod. Now tell me where my people are. I demand to see them immediately."
Zaria's talons paused over her datapad. The name held significance, but the arrogance in his tone required correction. "In due time, perhaps," she said coldly. "But first, you will learn your place."
Without warning, she tapped a command on her wrist monitor. The effect was instantaneous.
AAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHH
Lor's body convulsed as the neural chip embedded in his brain activated, sending waves of excruciating pain through his nervous system. He collapsed to his knees, then curled into a fetal position, his body spasming uncontrollably.
After several seconds, Zaria deactivated the protocol. She loomed over him, her voice detached. "Let me clarify your situation. Your world is gone. Your house is gone. Whatever authority you once possessed is gone. You are one of the few survivors of an extinct species. You should be grateful we rescued you from oblivion—and understand that your purpose now is to serve the Hegemony. To serve me."
Lor's breathing came in ragged gasps as the pain subsided. Through gritted teeth, he managed, "Tell me this much at least—did women named Ursa and Faora survive?"
Zaria tilted her head, intrigued by his concern. "You care for your fellow Kryptonians. Interesting." She consulted her datapad. "Yes, they appear to be alive and well."
Relief flickered across Lor's face before his expression hardened again. He rose carefully to his feet, maintaining his composure despite the lingering pain. "Thank you. Now tell me more about my situation—where exactly are we? Who are the Psions? Why did you rescue us? How am I understanding your language? And where are Ursa and Faora being kept?"
"Quite inquisitive, aren't you?" Zaria remarked, studying him with renewed interest. "Given the remarkable knowledge I've already glimpsed in your mind, I suppose some context is warranted."
She gestured toward a large display, bringing up an image of her homeworld. "You are on the primary planet of the Psions, center of the Psionic Hegemony. We control half of the Vega System. I am not merely a scientist—I sit on the ruling Council that governs our empire. And now, I am your master."
Lor's eyes narrowed, but he remained silent, absorbing every detail.
"As for why we rescued you," Zaria continued, "the answer is pragmatic. When we discovered your damaged vessel, we recognized the value in preserving specimens of an extinct species with such remarkable potential. Kryptonians are now assets of the Hegemony."
"You mean we're slaves," Lor stated, his voice dangerously quiet. "No—worse than slaves. The way you refer to us as 'specimens,' the condition I was in... we're lab animals to you."
Zaria nodded, untroubled by his assessment. "Correct. Does this surprise you? The Psions are dedicated to advancement through scientific discovery. Our goal is to strengthen ourselves beyond any challenge in this universe." Her eyes gleamed. "When we found Kryptonians—descendants of beings who once nearly conquered this galaxy before the Oans and their allies intervened—we recognized an unprecedented opportunity. Your people are now our greatest resource."
"You've implanted control devices in all of us," Lor stated, not a question but a realization.
"Indeed, and it's that same device that helps us communicate like this. Initially, we considered a more... diplomatic approach. But after one of your females demonstrated extraordinary abilities when exposed to our sun's radiation and rebelled, we had to take precautions. We learned two crucial things that day, first, that your cells can absorb and process stellar energy in remarkable ways; and second, that your people would not willingly serve despite owing us your very lives."
Zaria's voice took on a note of pride. "Since then, we've enhanced your natural abilities through controlled solar exposure. Your people now serve as elite guards for Council members. And we're conducting breeding programs to increase your numbers and—"
"BREEDING PROGRAMS?" Lor lunged forward, rage overtaking caution as he reached for Zaria's throat.
Though stunned, she reacted quickly and activated the neural chip again, stopping him mere inches from contact. He collapsed again, his body convulsing in agony.
"Ungrateful creature," Zaria hissed, genuine confusion in her voice. "You should appreciate our efforts to preserve your kind. Your homeworld is gone, your species faces extinction. Why resist the continuation of your bloodline?"
Through waves of unbearable pain, Lor forced out words with remarkable determination: "A Kryptonian... without pride... without free will... is no... Kryptonian at all."
Zaria studied him with curiosity, considering his words. After a moment, she deactivated the pain protocol. "Pride? What use is pride when you learn the state of your females?"
"What..." Lor gasped, struggling to focus through the aftershocks, "do you mean?"
"During our examinations, we discovered an anomaly affecting all Kryptonian females," Zaria explained clinically. "Despite numerous attempts—artificial incubation of harvested eggs, facilitated mating with Kryptonian males, fertility enhancements—the results were consistent. They are sterile, incapable of reproduction."
"What?" Lor whispered, momentarily stunned. The full weight of what the Psions had done to his people hit him—his mother Ursa, his father's lieutenant Faora—all treated as lab specimens. A wave of nausea gave way to smoldering rage. His fingers curled into fists, trembling not from fear but from the effort of restraining himself.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm and focused. Every detail mattered now. Each word Zaria spoke provided valuable information he could use to plan their escape. And with each revelation came a silent promise—that one day, the Psions would pay dearly for believing they could enslave Kryptonians.
Zaria nodded, misinterpreting his shock as concern for his species' continuation. "We believe the sterility resulted from exposure to something either in the Phantom Zone or before your rescue. However, we've developed an alternative solution: hybrids. While your females cannot reproduce, the males remain fertile. We've acquired exceptional specimens, Tamaranian women as mates."
She leaned closer, her eyes gleaming with scientific fervor. "And for you specifically, I've arranged something special. A Tamaranian princess with an exceptionally potent bloodline will be yours alone. Just think about it, the Tamaranians possess remarkable abilities: energy manipulation, flight, enhanced strength. Combined with Kryptonian physiology..." She purposefully paused, letting her words sink in.
Lor's eyes narrowed as the implications dawned on him. "Almost like a new species. With powers beyond anything either race is capable of," he said softly, his voice calculating.
"Precisely," Zaria confirmed, pleased by his apparent understanding. "The potential is limitless. Despite not being pure Kryptonians, these offspring—especially yours with the princess—will produce warriors unlike any the galaxy has seen. The Hegemony's future is assured."
Lor drew a steadying breath, his mind working through his options. "Why tell me any of this? You clearly have the means to control me completely. Why allow me this knowledge? What do you want from me?"
"That," Zaria said, pointing directly at his head, "I want what's in there." The gesture startled him. "Your mind contains knowledge beyond anything I've encountered—concepts I've never imagined possible. I've extracted some, but the process is dangerous. I risk my own sanity with each attempt."
She circled him slowly. "That's why I've awakened you with your faculties intact. I hope you'll cooperate willingly to help create a brighter future for the Hegemony." Her tone became almost conciliatory. "After all, the Psions' prosperity is now the Kryptonians' prosperity as well."
She gestured toward the display showing the tower schematics. "So tell me, what is the purpose of this structure? Why does your subconscious mind contain its complete blueprint, down to the quantum level?"
Genuine confusion crossed Lor's face as he studied the design. Beyond a vague sense of familiarity, he recognized nothing, though he found himself inexplicably drawn to certain elements of the structure. Was this something from his childhood on Krypton? A military installation his father had shown him? He couldn't place it, and that uncertainty unsettled him more than he wanted to admit. "I… don't know what you're talking about. I was trained as a warrior, to follow in my father's footsteps as a military leader. Not... whatever this is."
Zaria stared at him, stunned. After examining his vital signs on the monitors and confirming he wasn't lying, her eyes widened with a startling realization.
'If the boy truly doesn't know...' her mind raced with possibilities, 'then this knowledge must have been implanted. But by whom? And for what purpose? WAIT! Could it be... that?'
Without another word, she activated the submission protocol. Lor convulsed briefly before his expression went blank, his arms hanging limply at his sides.
"This changes my plans, but if what I suspect is true, then that marker is really the key to a prosperous future for us all," Zaria murmured, already sending commands to her subordinates. "I'll keep you under my direct authority while I determine how to access these buried secrets. No one will question your reassignment."
She ordered the fabrication of protective armor and a helmet to conceal Lor's identity as her personal guard, while returning him to the containment pod. This time, she adjusted the settings to gradually expose him to solar radiation, activating the dormant power in his cells while continuing her efforts to unlock the strange anomaly she had discovered in his genes.
"Whatever is hidden in your mind," she whispered as the pod sealed, "will belong to the Hegemony. And to me."