Prometheus Javelin — Command Bridge
"You can't be serious!" Barbara's eyes widened.
"I am," Rachel replied calmly.
After leaving the med bay, Rachel had summoned everyone to the command deck—including their ace in the hole, her mother Diana. Within minutes, every Titan had assembled on the bridge.
Rachel took the captain's chair while the others gathered around. Diana leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching her daughter with an unreadable expression. Rachel pulled up the compiled data from her review of the captured technology and prisoners, then began her briefing.
She started with the most immediate threat: the captured guards were pure-blooded Kryptonians who'd escaped the Phantom Zone during House Gula's battle with the Green Lantern Corps. One of them was Faora—who'd participated in General Zod's invasion of Earth. Shock rippled through the group, especially among those who'd lived through that invasion.
Barbara glanced at Kara, who sat at her helm station with arms crossed, appearing calm. But Barbara noticed the subtle tension in how Kara's fingers dug into her arms. 'I can't even imagine how complicated this must be for her.' Still, Kara's expression suggested she'd suspected as much. Rachel noticed it too.
When Richie asked about the guards' unusually high strength, Rachel displayed the enhancement data from the med pod scans. She explained the Psion modifications: bio-mechanical armor with regenerative properties that fed on the wearer's life force, reinforcing their bodies making them stronger. The weapons were designed specifically to counter Kryptonians. The team immediately began discussing modifications to their own defenses.
The shock deepened when Rachel revealed the power levels of the enhanced Kryptonians. Though she kept the berserk protocol figures to herself—deciding it was better not to disclose that detail right now—she displayed the base state numbers. At first, the figures meant little to most of them. But when Rachel compared them to Kara's and Superman's strength, even the veterans looked shaken. Newer members like Virgil and Richie visibly paled.
Rachel let that sink in, then glanced at Kori. "You should brace yourself."
Kori stiffened. She didn't understand at first, but she knew Rachel well enough to realize what was coming would be bad. She took a deep breath and nodded. "Continue."
Rachel revealed the data on the Kryptonian-Tamaranean hybrids. When Kori learned that women sent from Tamaran were being used as breeding stock, she trembled, covering her mouth as tears filled her eyes. Dick's face darkened. He pulled her into an embrace without a word, holding her until she steadied. The rest watched in silence.
When Kori nodded, Rachel continued. She explained the hybrids' power levels and estimated their numbers at around three hundred. Then she identified key targets, High Council members Zaria and Fyraa, the scientists running the enhancement and breeding programs. Kori and Kara both locked those names into memory, their expressions hardening.
Rachel shifted to the Citadel. She presented her findings on their mobile fortress, then revealed what she'd pulled from Komand'r's memories—schematics for the "CITADEL Project." The holographic display rendered a massive upgraded fortress.
Stunned silence filled the room—both at learning Rachel had delved into Kori's sister's mind and at the implications. If Rachel was right, the mission against the Citadel had just become exponentially harder. The upgraded fortress, nearly the size of a dwarf planet and possibly powered by a captured star, would be unlike anything they'd faced.
"That's why they've gone quiet," Dick said, pieces clicking into place. "They're buying time to finish the upgrade."
"Exactly," Rachel confirmed. "We're running out of time on both fronts."
The discussion shifted to strategy. Dick and Barbara began suggesting plans—locate and infiltrate the fortress while the newly formed Vega Alliance kept the Citadel forces distracted. But Rachel interrupted with her own proposal.
"I'm suggesting we split up," she said, bringing up a tactical display. "One team stays here to coordinate with the Alliance against the Citadel. The other infiltrates Psion space, gathers intelligence, and prepares for a coordinated strike."
Silence fell on the bridge. Reports had been flooding in from resistance groups across the sector, all agreeing to join the alliance. The video of Kori's energy form and the beaten Citadel Empress had sparked hope throughout Vega, turning embers into flame.
"It's too risky, Raven," Dick said, shaking his head. "Better to deal with the Citadel first, then hit the Psions together with the full Alliance."
"Yeah, you just told us how powerful those guards and hybrids are," Karen added. "If you're exposed, you'll be facing an army of god-like beings. Even with Wonder Woman, that's just asking for trouble."
She looked to Diana, hoping for support. But Diana simply watched Rachel, expression unreadable. Karen turned to Kara next—who was calmly studying Rachel's deployment plans. Then to Barbara—who sat with her chin in her hand, deep in thought.
'Dammit. I know that look. She's actually considering this. Karen sighed internally. Who asked me to be friends with these people?'
While others voiced objections, Barbara remained quiet, analyzing the proposal from every angle. Finally, she looked up and met Rachel's gaze.
"You, Wonder Woman, Kara, and M'gann, right?"
Everyone's attention shifted to Batgirl as Rachel nodded. "Yes."
Barbara's analytical mind worked through the logic. "Wonder Woman, you, and Kara all have advanced battle suits with stealth capabilities. M'gann can phase-shift. Beyond that..." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "Each of you is incredibly powerful. Wonder Woman has that divine transformation. You're comparable to a god-king at full power. Combined with Kara's strength and M'gann's abilities..." She took a breath. "If planned right, I can see this working."
"But?" Rachel prompted.
Barbara's eyes narrowed. "There are too many unknowns. We have practically no intelligence on what's happening in Psion space. That entire section of Vega is on complete lockdown, heavily guarded by Hegemony forces. They're significantly more advanced technologically. Even with the Javelin's stealth capabilities, there's still a risk of detection."
"I know," Rachel acknowledged. "But that's precisely why this has to be done now. We're running out of time." She leaned forward. "They already have three hundred of those hybrids. How many more will there be if we wait? We need to infiltrate, gather intelligence, and understand their full capabilities before we coordinate a large-scale attack. Otherwise, we're going in blind while our enemy grows stronger."
The weight of that settled over the room. Barbara's eyes narrowed as she studied her friend. 'She said it again. Running out of time... She's hiding something. There's another reason she's not telling us... something that can cause panic. But what could it be?'
Donna stepped forward. "I understand the reasoning, but why limit it to four? If it's a stealth mission, maybe Jaime or Gar could provide additional support?"
"Yeah, I can blend with natural fauna," Gar offered eagerly.
"Nah, hermano," Jaime said, putting a hand on Gar's shoulder, making him wince. "You're still hurt from the battle. You need more time in the med pod." He turned to Rachel. "But I could join you. I can pilot a shuttle, guard it while you're planetside, and provide backup if things go sideways."
Rachel considered this, then shook her head. "I appreciate the offer, Jaime, but four is optimal for this kind of deep infiltration—small enough to avoid detection, powerful enough to handle unexpected threats. More than that increases our exposure risk exponentially."
She stood, bringing up additional tactical data. "The Prometheus Javelin is equipped for this operation. Its stealth systems are superior to anything the Psion Hegemony has encountered. Even the two Psions who came to Tamaran didn't detect the ship. Once we're in-system, M'gann and I can scout ahead while Wonder Woman and Kara remain mobile for extraction if needed."
"And if you're detected and encounter those enhanced Kryptonians? Or those hybrids?" Dick pressed.
"Then we adapt." Diana's voice was calm, steady. She studied the tactical displays before turning to Dick. "Rachel's right—we can't let the Psions continue unchecked. The three of us have trained together before. We know each other's capabilities. And M'gann has worked and trained with Rachel and Kara enough that we can function as a cohesive unit."
She moved to stand behind her daughter. "We've faced overwhelming odds before and won. This is dangerous, yes—but not impossible." Her gaze swept the room, lingering meaningfully on Kori before returning to Rachel. "This field experience will help you grow and realize your true potential. I've already seen it starting to happen." She looked down, meeting her daughter's gaze with a smile. "I support Rachel's plan."
"But, Wonder Woman this plan is reckless—" Dick started.
"I'm in too." Just then Kara's calm but firm voice cut through the discussion, drawing everyone's attention. She locked eyes with Dick. "I've been thinking about this since the briefing started. I don't condone what Zod and his followers did on Earth. After this, if they survive, I'm sending them straight back to the Phantom Zone. But right now, to me, they're Kryptonians—my people. And these reptilian freaks are enslaving them—no, it's even worse—breeding them with captured Tamaraneans like livestock." Her eyes went cold as she glanced at Kori. "Yeah, I'm fucking furious. This is personal now." She turned back to Dick. "Kori needs to be here, so I'll handle it for both of us."
Before Dick could respond, M'gann spoke up. "Given what we've learned, Rachel is right. We can't afford to play it safe. Rachel's plan makes sense."
"Guys, I think you're all letting your emotions cloud your judgment. Let's take a step back—"
"Give it up, Dick." Barbara sighed, recognizing a losing battle. She turned to Rachel. "Fine. But I want contingencies for every scenario. Mother Empress maintains constant monitoring, and you abort if things go sideways. We rendezvous and handle whatever comes next together."
"Already ahead of you," Rachel confirmed, bringing up the contingency plans. "Mother Empress will maintain overwatch. If things seem off, I can open a portal back here—though at that distance, bringing the entire ship through will drain me completely. But it's doable." She paused. "And if things really go south... she will contact our ultimate ace."
The way she said it made clear she meant her father—though she hoped it wouldn't come to that.
"Hold on," Karen interjected, her expression showing her irritation. "What about engineering and navigation? You're telling me the four of you can just pilot the Javelin through Psion space alone? You'll need me on this mission."
"I appreciate that, Karen. I really do." Rachel held her gaze steadily. "But this side needs you more. Mother Empress can interface directly with the ship's systems. When necessary, she can take full control of the Javelin. As for the other functions..." She paused. "Let's just say… there's a reason I'm captain of this ship. So, don't worry, we'll manage fine with a skeleton crew."
Karen stared at her, stunned. Several others looked equally surprised by this revelation. She opened her mouth to argue further, but the words died in her throat. After a long moment, she fell silent, begrudgingly accepting her friend's dangerous plan.
Dick crossed his arms, still looking unhappy but recognizing the decision was made. "All right. What's the timeline?"
"The infiltration team departs in six hours," Rachel said. "That gives us time for final equipment checks, rest, and transport of the support team to the planet. The support team coordinates with the Alliance immediately and begins preparing to handle the Citadel forces." She turned to Kori. "Kori, you'll need to brief your people and the other leaders on the fortress upgrades."
Kori straightened, eyes determined. "I will. And I'll make sure they understand the stakes. We'll handle the Citadel, then come join you."
"Good." Rachel looked around at her team. "But don't push your luck. Both fronts are critical. Unless you're certain you've won here, you don't come to our aid. I know this isn't what any of you wanted to hear. Splitting up goes against every instinct we have, especially this far from home. But we're facing a threat that's evolving faster than we can respond with conventional tactics. This is our best chance to get ahead of it."
"I trust every one of you. Besides," she added with a slight shrug, "the team staying behind has the harder job—coordinating with multiple factions, tracking down that fortress, keeping the Citadel from completing their upgrade. The infiltration team just has to sneak into the most heavily guarded space in the sector and steal secrets from an advanced civilization."
A few nervous laughs broke the tension.
"Barbara, Dick—you're in command of the support team," Rachel said. "Work with Kori and the Alliance leadership. Find that fortress. If you get a clear shot at sabotaging it before we return, take it. Don't wait for us."
"Understood," Dick and Barbara said together.
"Everyone else, prepare for extended operations. Stock up on supplies, check your gear, rest if you can. We move in six hours." Rachel's gaze swept across each face. "Any final questions?"
The Titans exchanged determined looks. "No," they said in unison.
Rachel nodded. "That's the plan. Dismissed. Go prepare. Infiltration team, meet back here in five hours for the final checks."
As people began to leave, Barbara caught Rachel's arm. "You're still not telling us everything."
Rachel met her friend's knowing gaze. "There are concerns that don't need to become distractions right now. When I have confirmation, I'll tell everyone. I promise."
Barbara studied her for a long moment before nodding, choosing to trust her friend. "I'm holding you to that. And Rachel? Come back in one piece. All of you."
"We will," Rachel said firmly.
Once Barbara left, Diana leaned close and whispered, "What aren't you telling them?"
Rachel glanced around to ensure they were alone before speaking. "Mother Empress uncovered something during the investigation. The Psions are developing a protocol that transforms their Kryptonian and hybrid soldiers into a monstrous form—exponentially increasing their power to nearly god-king level. Worse, they gain reactive adaptation: if they survive an attack, they come back stronger." She paused. "There's also a tower under construction on their homeworld. The architectural style matches Higher Realm design."
Diana's expression darkened. "You think they found a Kryptonian with the Tuffle gene? That a revived Tuffle is backing them?"
"Too early to say," Rachel replied. "Could be an actual Tuffle, something that acquired their knowledge, or another Higher Realm entity meddling. Maybe it's coincidence—but I doubt it. If the Tuffle are coming back..." She trailed off.
"Then this stops being a regional problem," Diana said, her eyes turning cold. "It becomes a threat to our entire lower realm—and potentially beyond."
"Exactly. That's why we can't wait. Every day that tower progresses brings them closer to completing whatever they're building."
Diana placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder and squeezed gently. "You made the right call. We'll find out what they're building, and we'll stop it. Together."
Rachel nodded. "Together."
Tamaran's Moon - Six Hours Later
By the time Rachel, Kara, and M'gann finished their final preparations on the bridge, the support team had already made landfall on Tamaran and rendezvoused with Ryand'r on the surface. Alone on the ship now, Rachel briefed them on their true objectives—including the details she'd withheld from the others.
The revelations hit hard. Learning about the Psions' berserk protocol, the monstrous transformations it triggered, and the mysterious tower, Kara and M'gann's expressions shifted from shock to grim understanding. Though confused at first, by the end of Rachel's briefing, they finally saw why Rachel had kept this from the team coordinating with the Alliance—knowledge like this would spread panic when they needed clear heads, not distractions in the heat of battle. They knew what had to be done and prepared for departure.
Rachel settled into the captain's chair, monitoring the ship's systems. Diana sat beside her in the first officer's seat, relaxed but alert. Kara took the navigation station while M'gann monitored communications and sensors.
"How are we looking, Mother Empress?" Rachel asked.
"All primary systems are operating within optimal parameters, Princess."
Rachel pulled up the navigation display, studying the route Kara had plotted. The hyperspace lane cut through contested space, weaving carefully around known Psion patrol routes and sensor arrays. "Flight path looks good. Hyperspace lane readings are stable all the way through."
"Told you," Kara said without looking up. "I triple-checked the calculations. We'll drop out at the system's edge, well beyond their early warning grid. From there, it's conventional thrust with stealth engaged."
"I've linked my telepathic range to the ship's sensors," M'gann added from her station. "If we encounter any patrols, I should detect their presence before their scanners pick us up. Psion minds are incredibly complex—I'll only catch their general intent without direct contact—but it should give us a few extra seconds to adjust course if needed."
"Smart," Rachel said, glancing at M'gann.
She leaned back. "All right then. Mother Empress, initiate departure sequence."
"Acknowledged."
The ship lifted smoothly from its berth, repulsor engines humming to life. Through the forward viewport, Tamaran's moon curved away beneath them as they turned toward their flight path.
"Kara, FTL drive status?"
"Ready to go." Kara confirmed.
"Good." Nodded Rachel. "Engage hyperspace on my mark. Mother Empress, full stealth the moment we drop back to normal space."
"Stealth systems standing by." reported Mother Empress.
Rachel settled deeper into her chair and waved her hand. "Engage."
"Course locked," Kara said, fingers moving across her controls. "Hyperspace in three... two... one... engaging."
The ship hummed, and the stars stretched into brilliant streaks as they jumped to hyperspace, bound for Psion space.
Tamaran - Royal Palace
While the Prometheus Javelin slipped through Psion space, Tamaran's royal palace buzzed with tension. Kori sat upon her throne, surrounded by holographic projections of resistance leaders from across the sector—each representing cells that had answered her call for unity against the Citadel.
The room divided cleanly. Some leaders leaned forward with eager expressions, inspired by viral footage of Kori, true heir to the throne of Tamaran, channeling X'Hal's power. Others sat back with arms crossed, skepticism etched on their faces as they gazed at the new Empress of Tamaran and her strange advisors, aliens from another system.
Barbara and Dick flanked Kori's throne. A few delegates raised eyebrows, trying to determine what made these advisors special enough to stand so close to the possible aspect of X'Hal. But Primus's presence beside them—and the deference he showed these outsiders—silenced any objections before they could form.
"Your Majesty," Commander Vekk began, his gravelly voice cutting through the murmurs. "We've all seen the footage. Impressive. Terrifying, even." He gestured broadly. "But raw power doesn't win wars. Some of us have been bleeding against the Citadel since before you could fly."
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the chamber, though several delegates also scowled at Vekk's blunt words.
"How dare you speak to the aspect of mighty X'Hal that way!" one delegate protested.
"Vekk, we respect you, but those words are disrespectful," another chimed in.
"We should be grateful that mighty X'Hal has manifested in the true heir of Tamaran—"
Commander Sel'ana's smooth voice cut through the zealous outbursts. "Gentlemen, please. Commander Vekk raises a valid point." She turned her attention to Kori. "We welcome Tamaran's leadership in principle, Your Majesty, but coordination has... complications. Our cells have survived this long precisely because we operate independently. Perhaps intelligence sharing would be more practical than restructuring what already works?"
'Here we go.' Barbara's smile was sharp as she addressed Sel'ana. "Forgive me, Commander, but I'm curious—when you say 'what already works,' are you referring to the three years of scattered resistance that hasn't slowed the Citadel's expansion by a single system?"
Sel'ana's expression hardened. "We've survived—"
"Surviving isn't winning," Dick said, his tone casual but his eyes serious. "And isolated cells? I bet the Citadel simply loves that. After all, it makes it easier to pick you off one by one."
Vekk's face darkened. "Easy to say, stranger, when you're not the one burying your people. You waltz in with your strategies and speeches, but you weren't there when the Citadel burned our homes and conquered our worlds. This isn't your war."
"You're absolutely right." Just then Kori's voice rang out, and every head turned. "This isn't their war. It's ours. Mine, my people's, yours—it's every soul's that calls Vega its home." She met Vekk's glare without flinching. "But they chose to stand with us anyway. Nightwing and Batgirl have fought beside us. They've earned their place here."
"While our sector burned, Commander, they weren't sitting idle. I know it's going to be hard to believe, but believe me when I say this—they've faced gods and monsters alike, beings of immense power on their own world. Their tactical expertise, their willingness to fight for strangers—that's not a liability. It's exactly what we need."
She paused, then her voice softened just slightly. "So, the real question isn't where they're from. It's whether we're brave enough to try something different—and accept their help."
Murmurs rippled through the chamber once more as delegates exchanged glances, digesting her words.
Sel'ana studied Kori for a long moment. "Inspiring words, Your Majesty. But trust requires proof, not rhetoric. What tangible evidence can you offer that Tamaran can actually deliver results?"
Barbara's smile widened. 'That's it!'
She clapped once, the sharp sound echoing through the chamber. "I'm so glad you asked."
She tapped her terminal. A holographic star map bloomed into existence, Okaara pulsing at its center.
"Sixty-three minutes ago," Dick began casually, "a joint Tamaranean-Omega Men strike force hit the Citadel outpost on Okaara. Now, for those unfamiliar, this wasn't some minor garrison. Despite only two thousand troops and a modest fleet, the base was one of the sector's hardest targets—specifically because of the mercenary presence."
The hologram shifted. Combat footage played, showing Tamaranean cruisers executing precision strikes against Citadel ships while ground forces breached fortifications with surgical efficiency. Then came the chaos that shocked many present—in the footage, they saw mercenaries turning their weapons on Citadel soldiers mid-battle.
"Seven minutes ago," Barbara said, her tone light, "Okaara declared independence. The garrison is neutralized. The mercenaries—inspired by footage of Empress Kori's power that we shared—joined our side mid-operation. The planet is ours."
Silence fell in the chamber at this words.
"That's..." Vekk's voice cracked as he digested the implications. "We've been trying to take that base for three years. You're telling me you did it in about an hour?"
Primus stepped forward, his deep voice resonating. "Okaara is the sector's biggest trade nexus and mercenary hub. The Citadel's first conquest when they entered this region. Light garrison or not, their infrastructure and strategic position made it nearly impregnable. Add thousands of battle-hardened mercenaries on their payroll, and it became a fortress." He paused. "It's now our second major stronghold after Tamaran. It fell because Tamaran identified an opportunity, coordinated with willing allies, and struck decisively. We simply provided support."
His gaze swept the room. "I've fought the Citadel longer than most of you. I've watched resistance movements rise with hope and collapse in blood. I've buried too many good people because we couldn't unite when it mattered." His voice softened. "But what I witnessed today—the power, the strategy, the coordination—gives me something I haven't felt in decades. Hope. Real hope that we can actually win this."
Sel'ana had gone still, her calculating expression shifting to something resembling respect. Around the room, delegates exchanged glances, reassessing.
"So let's be clear," Barbara said, her tone gentler but no less firm. "The question was never whether Tamaran can lead—you just saw the answer. The real question is whether you're willing to set aside your pride long enough to take advantage of it. Because while we're sitting here debating, the Citadel is building weapons. Getting stronger. Every day we waste is another day they get to prepare."
She tapped her terminal again. The CITADEL project rendered in holographic detail—the upgraded fortress in all its terrible glory.
"Here's what happens next. We've already identified Citadel targets and developed strategies that play to each cell's strengths—and we're ready to share all of it. If you want in on this alliance, really in, then we pool resources, coordinate operations, and fight as equals." She paused. "If you'd rather keep one foot out the door? That's fine too. Just don't get in our way."
"And if you'd rather keep fighting alone—" Her eyes hardened. "I won't stop you. But when the Citadel comes for you—and they will—don't expect us to pull you out. We're done reacting. We're going on the offensive, and that means working with people who understand that winning requires sacrifice and trust."
The silence that fell this time felt different—charged with the weight of decision rather than skepticism.
But after a moment, Commander Vekk rose first. He placed his fist over his heart in a Branx salute. "Like Primus, I've buried too many. I don't want to bury any more. I want our children to grow up free." His voice roughened. "The Branx Third Cell stands with Tamaran. With you, Your Majesty."
One by one, others stood and offered their allegiance. The majority rose, though some remained seated, their expressions conflicted or resentful.
Even Sel'ana stood, her smile wry. "With our world gone and only remnants left... I suppose we became a little too cautious. We forgot what winning actually requires." She paused, studying Kori with newfound respect. "Primus is right—you do inspire hope. The Euphorian networks will coordinate with your intelligence division." A slight smile crossed her face as she gave a meaningful glance at Barbara and Dick while addressing Kori. "Just make sure your advisors keep delivering results like this, Your Majesty."
Barbara grinned. "We'll try not to disappoint, Commander."
As delegates who didn't stand up filed out their holograms disappearing, Dick leaned close to Barbara. "Think it'll hold?"
"Okaara bought us credibility," Barbara murmured. "Whether it lasts depends on what we do next." She glanced at Kori. "But it's a damn good start. This puts us in position to lead military operations while the alliance governs as equals."
Kori caught their exchange and allowed herself a small smile. The alliance was fragile—built on fresh victory and desperate hope. But it was real. And for the first time in decades, the resistance had a genuine shot at winning. "Let's discuss our strategy, then."
Meanwhile in Psionic Hegemony Space
The Prometheus Javelin slipped through Psion space under cloak, threading past detection grids and patrol routes. Each checkpoint grew more challenging—patrol patterns tightening, detection grids overlapping until Rachel had to intervene personally. She channeled her Ki through the ship's systems, warping space and pulling the vessel into a pocket reality. The technique came naturally when she used it on herself, but extending it to an entire ship demanded absolute focus as they phased through undetected.
Silence filled the ship. Every crew member stayed fixed at their station, eyes sharp. No one spoke unless necessary.
When they finally reached the Psion homeworld after a week's worth of journey, Rachel maneuvered them to the planet's moon's dark side—a desolate, crater-pocked surface offering perfect concealment.
"Mother Empress, launch the probes and begin surveillance," Rachel said quietly. "Tap into their satellite network and extract whatever you can."
Mother Empress's form materialized, her expression calm as she closed her eyes. Four small probes launched from the ship, each cloaked as they spread to equidistant points around the moon's perimeter to interface with the planet's satellite network. For several minutes, Mother Empress worked in silence, her consciousness spreading through alien systems like invisible tendrils. When her eyes finally opened, genuine surprise flickered across her features—the first time Rachel and Diana had witnessed such an expression.
"Interesting..." Mother Empress said slowly her expression becoming thoughtful. 'A synthetic planet—and not a simple one. It has its own self-sustaining environment, and those encryption layers in their network...' Her eyes flashed. 'The probability of Higher Realm interference continues to increase.'
Diana and Rachel exchanged glances. "What did you find?"
"Their network architecture is more sophisticated than I anticipated. Bio-mechanical infrastructure with quantum encryption layers—something I haven't encountered before in this realm. Fairly advanced for a lower-realm civilization." She paused, a predatory smile crossing her face. "That said, it's not impenetrable. Breaching it will just take considerably more effort without the Void Sentinel."
Kara frowned. "So you can do it?"
Mother Empress's smile widened. "Of course. I simply need to take this more seriously." Her eyes shone as she channeled more processing power into the task.
A few moments later, she blinked. "I'm in. I have access to most planetary databases and surveillance networks." Her expression grew somber. "However, High Scientist Zaria's personal research—the data on the tower and the berserker protocol—is isolated on a separate system. She maintains a personal databank physically disconnected from the main network. I can't access it from here. You'll need to infiltrate her facility directly."
"What can you tell us?" Diana asked.
Mother Empress projected a holographic display. "I can confirm three hundred hybrids in final development stages. The berserker protocol hasn't been deployed yet—based on what I am seeing, it's still in late-stage testing. The tower, however, is a different story." She pulled up images of the massive structure. "Construction is ninety percent complete. Its purpose remains unclear, and something about this project doesn't add up."
Rachel raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"This civilization is governed by a High Council that debates every major project extensively. There should be records—meeting notes, opposition statements, something—in the Council members' databanks." Mother Empress's expression grew thoughtful. "But there's nothing. It's as if the tower project received unanimous approval without question. Either the potential gains are so extraordinary that no one dared oppose it, or someone's manipulating the Council from behind the scenes." She paused. "There's also a section of their weapons development lab that's completely inaccessible to me. Whatever they're building there is likely classified at the same level as the tower and the berserker protocol—all of it isolated on our target's systems." She turned to Rachel and Diana. "Princess, Mistress—we need boots on the ground to access Zaria's systems directly."
Rachel studied the holographic display, pulling up the planetary layout with a wave of her hand—showing a web of facilities, power grids, and security checkpoints. After a moment, she nodded. "Understood. Wonder Woman stays on the ship. The rest of us infiltrate."
Diana's eyes narrowed. "And why exactly am I being benched?" Her tone stayed calm, but Rachel caught the tension beneath. "We planned to infiltrate together. What changed?"
"Mom," Rachel said, meeting her gaze. "We need that intel before we can plan what to do next. But with this many unknowns..." She paused. "Something tells me we're walking into more than we expect down there. I need you up here as our ace—our own surprise they won't see coming. If things go sideways, you can drop in and extract us or back us up once we've forced their hand. Your suit has stealth capabilities like mine, so either way, you won't trip their security. Trust me—tactically, this is our best play."
Kara nodded. "Diana, she's right. Let us scout first. We'll call on you later."
M'gann nodded in agreement. "Wonder Woman, they're right. I can phase through solid matter. Kara's invulnerable enough to handle threats if her suits stealth fails and she is exposed. And Rachel can manipulate space. We're practically built for infiltration."
Diana listened, then turned to Rachel. "Your intuition is acting up that strongly?" she asked softly, meeting her daughter's gaze.
Rachel nodded seriously.
Diana's expression became unreadable, her eyes closing briefly. When they reopened, her expression was controlled—though Rachel still caught the maternal concern beneath. "Fine. Let's go with your plan. But take full precautions. And do not engage after you've exposed them without me, no matter what you find."
Three pairs of eyes flicked toward Kara.
"What? Hey!" Kara protested. "I know what's at stake. I'll keep it together."
"We know," Rachel said. "But we're about to enter the belly of the beast. You'll likely encounter technology specifically designed to counter Kryptonians, and possibly some disturbing sights. You need to be prepared for anything."
M'gann nodded. "She's right. You need to be extra careful, or you'll get detected before we obtain the data."
"Mother Empress, you made the adjustments to Kara's suit, correct? How long can she maintain stealth mode?" Rachel asked.
"I have, Princess." Mother Empress nodded. "Kara's battlesuit can now manipulate her bio-field to refract light, achieving invisibility. Duration and range depend on her Ki reserves. As long as she doesn't rage... she won't be detected." Mother Empress shrugged with a slight smile.
"Jeez... not you too, Mother Empress!" Kara complained.
Mother Empress continued, meeting Diana's gaze. "Mistress, their odds of remaining undetected are excellent. Kara's suit has been modified. M'gann's natural abilities are more than sufficient. As for the Princess..." She glanced at Rachel. "Her suit includes stealth features, and if she travels via dimensional pocket as usual, she'll be virtually undetectable."
Diana sighed. "I know." She turned to face all three of them. "Go prepare. I'll monitor from here and come the instant you signal. Don't hesitate to call for backup. Understood?" Her gaze lingered deliberately on Rachel.
"Understood," Rachel said, while Kara and M'gann exchanged knowing grins.
Minutes later, the three stood together in the ship's hangar. Diana approached, meeting their gazes. "Be careful," she said quietly. Her eyes found Rachel's. "If anything goes wrong—anything at all—you retreat and call me immediately. No heroics. No unnecessary risks. Promise me."
"Promise," they replied in unison, though Rachel noticed the slight hesitation in Kara's voice.
Diana nodded and stepped back. Rachel closed her eyes, reaching out with her Ki sense to find the coordinates Mother Empress had provided—a shadow-draped district on the planet's surface with minimal Psion presence. She'd never attempted spatial travel of this distance while carrying others before, but there was a first time for everything.
Reality rippled, bending to her will.
"Let's go," Rachel said.
They stepped through the spatial ripple.
Psion Hegemony Homeworld—The Synthetic Planet, New Maltus
The transition hit hard. One moment they stood in the Javelin's sterile calm—the next they stumbled into strange humid air. The ripple sealed behind them with a snap that left Rachel's ears ringing.
"That was unpleasant," M'gann muttered.
"You can say that again." Kara closed her eyes, steadied herself, then opened them to scan their surroundings. "I don't like this place... like at all."
They'd materialized in a shadowed alley between massive bio-mechanical structures. Bioluminescent veins pulsed through walls of organic curves fused with crystalline technology. Everything hummed with an odd energy that prickled Rachel's skin.
"Come on, you two. We're on a mission." Rachel massaged her temples, steadying herself. "We're not here to sightsee."
"Yeah, let's get this over with." Kara channeled her Ki, activating invisibility. She shimmered and vanished, though Rachel still sensed her presence.
M'gann went translucent, then transparent, phase-shifting slightly out of sync with normal space.
Rachel opened a dimensional pocket and stepped inside, becoming completely undetectable.
"Comms check," M'gann whispered through their secure channel.
"Here," Kara confirmed.
"Reading you both," Rachel said. "Here are your assignments. Kara, you take the weapons development facility. M'gann, High Scientist Fyraa's laboratory. I'll investigate the tower, then Zaria's lab."
"Why not send me to Fyraa's lab?" Kara asked, frowning.
"Because I know you," Rachel said simply. "Trust me, Kara. We'll make the Psions pay."
Silence. Then Kara's sigh carried through the comm. "Understood."
"Stay focused. Stay invisible. Report anything unexpected immediately. We regroup at these coordinates in two hours—whether we have the intel or not."
"Acknowledged," M'gann said.
"Stay safe," Kara added.
They separated, each moving toward their target.
Rachel oriented herself and launched upward. The tower dominated the city center—a massive spire piercing the blood-red sky, its surface covered in intricate patterns that seemed to pulse with their own rhythm.
Flying closer within her dimensional pocket, Rachel found herself genuinely impressed. She'd seen far larger structures—built in the Higher Realms or by Higher Realm powers like her father when he created their new home in Azarath. But this was different. This was the largest artificial structure she'd ever encountered made by beings of her own lower realm, dwarfing everything around it. She moved closer to examine the massive cables pulsing with energy and pulled out her terminal to analyze the power flowing through them.
"That's an absurd amount of power," Rachel muttered, studying the energy readings on her holographic display that materialized before her. She traced the flow from the tower's base up through what looked like a central control station, all the way to the spire's tip. "Just what is this thing?"
Whatever its purpose, the tower was nearly complete. And Rachel had a sinking feeling they needed answers before it came online.
She slipped past the guards and security grids, phasing directly into the interior to begin her investigation.
Stepping into the control station, Rachel found several Psion guards on duty. She instantly extended her Ki outward, knocking them unconscious before dark tendrils emerged from her shadow to hold them in position—they needed to wake exactly where they'd been standing to avoid raising any alarms. Alone now, she approached the control panel and interfaced her terminal with the system.
"Mother Empress, any idea what this structure is?"
Silence. The lack of response was unusual enough to make her frown. "Mother Empress?"
'Did she encounter interference? That shouldn't be possible... right?'
When Mother Empress finally spoke, her tone was uncharacteristically serious. "Something that shouldn't exist in this lower realm. If my assessment is correct... it's an Ascension Bridge."
Rachel's eyes widened before narrowing. "What exactly is that?"
"Normally, beings from a lower realm must cultivate their power, surpass their realm's natural limitations, and undergo tribulation to ascend to a higher plane. However, there are technological shortcuts—methods that bypass the natural order. All require Higher Realm science and engineering. An Ascension Bridge is exactly that shortcut."
"They're building a gateway—a literal bridge between this lower realm and the Higher Realms. The question is why? And more importantly, who gave them the knowledge to construct it? Last I checked, even the controlling powers of this realm weren't aware of the Higher Realms before the young master arrive in this realm, much less capable of theorizing how to travel there."
Rachel's breath caught. "A gateway to the Higher Realms?" Her mind raced. "Mother Empress, why didn't you or Dad tell Mom and me about this? If we could build our own bridge, then when Dad has to return to Alacrity, we could simply follow him. We wouldn't have to wait until we've passed our tribulations. Our family could stay together!"
The words spilled out before she could stop them, hope and desperation tangling together. Her father had been delaying his return to stay with her and her mother, Diana. He needed to ascend—to stabilize his realm—but he'd been suppressing his true power just to remain with them. She and her mother had thrown themselves into cultivation, racing against time. They'd accepted the painful reality, Orach would have to leave eventually, and they'd be left behind in the lower realm, cultivating until they were strong enough to pass their tribulations and follow him. The only exception would be the Tournament of Power, where they'd see him again—briefly.
Now, with this possibility before her, she couldn't stop trembling with excitement.
"Princess." Mother Empress's voice cut through the spiral of her thoughts, suddenly serious. "Who are you right now? Rachel Roth of Earth? Or Princess Rachel of House Gula, daughter of Prince Orach of Sadala?"
The question struck like cold water. Rachel's mind cleared as she recognized how badly she'd let her emotions compromise her judgment. She clenched her fists, closed her eyes, and took several deep breaths. When she opened them again, her expression had returned to calm. "I am Princess Rachel of House Gula. I am my father's daughter."
"Welcome back, Princess." Mother Empress's tone remained solemn. "Now listen carefully. The bridge is not a shortcut for lower realm beings. It was never meant for them to simply bypass ascension. The tribulations, terrifying as they are, play a vital role in cultivation. Skipping them doesn't just weaken your foundation—it seals off your future growth. Worse, it becomes a psychological crutch. You'd subconsciously rely on having an escape route rather than truly committing to your cultivation."
"And don't forget—being the princess of House Gula means you are royalty of the Alacrity Higher Realm. How would you face the many arrogant young masters and ladies of other houses if you took a shortcut? Your father and his group of Seven Young Heavenly Emperors became famous because of their many deeds, but the first was facing tribulation lightning like none other when they were mere children, earning great respect and admiration from many. While your father will always love and cherish you, didn't you want to stand by him? Didn't you have the goal of growing strong enough to stand by his side and not allow anyone to question your position as his daughter? If you take a shortcut and don't undergo ascension the right way—facing the tribulation—how are you going to grow strong enough to do that?"
Rachel listened silently, head slightly lowered, as Mother Empress continued.
"This technology exists purely to facilitate movement between realms for those already acknowledged by the Higher Realms. Other lower realm beings only gain access during special occasions when Higher Realm powers descend to transport them. The Tournament of Power is one such occasion."
"This realm has you and your mother. When your father ascends—and he will—he'll almost certainly leave the Void Sentinel here for both of you. When the Tournament of Power arrives, the Sentinel will transport you to the Higher Realms and back. Without it, Alacrity would send someone down using a far more advanced version of this crude bridge to collect you, your mother, and this realm's other champions."
"Princess, your father would never approve of shortcuts when it comes to cultivation." Mother Empress's tone softened. "He walked the cultivation path with honor, facing every tribulation head-on. That's why he stands where he does today. He expects the same from you and your mother—not because he doesn't love you, but because he does."
Rachel's chest tightened. Mother Empress was right. Her father may not have given all the details, but when he'd shared stories of his own tribulations—the pain and terror he'd faced, the times he'd nearly fallen—he'd persevered. Each tribulation had forged him into something stronger. He wanted that for her too—not suffering for suffering's sake, but the growth that came from overcoming it.
"I understand," Rachel said quietly. "Thank you for setting me straight."
"Always, Princess. Now, back to the matter at hand. This bridge shouldn't exist here. Someone with Higher Realm knowledge gave the Psions this technology. The question is who, and why."
Rachel's jaw tightened as she refocused on the mission. "Could it be the Tuffles? We suspected they might be involved."
"That possibility is high, but I'm still uncertain. The Tuffles were advanced, so even limited to lower realm resources, it's not impossible for a reemerged Tuffle to create something this sophisticated. But there's another possibility we can't rule out—it might suggest direct Higher Realm intervention or extremely comprehensive stolen knowledge. Either way, we need more data. Right now this tower isn't even completed, and there's no mention of any coordinates either. We need to access Zaria's lab." stated Mother Empress.
Rachel nodded and asked. "Is there any other useful data here or are we done?"
"We should move to the next location, Princess." replied Mother Empress.
"Got it." Rachel pulled back her arm as the mechanical tendrils detached and retracted into her terminal, merging seamlessly. "Let's go." She released the knocked-out guards before jumping skyward toward their next target. As the guards woke groggily confused, they simply continued their work guarding the control station of the tower under construction.
Meanwhile, in High Scientist Fyraa's Lab
"This… it's horrible," M'gann whispered, her expression darkening as she spotted the dead Psion bodies sprawled across the lab floor.
While Rachel investigated the mysterious tower, M'gann had made her way to Fyraa's facility. The massive chamber stretched before her, filled with rows of incubation tubes, each containing a suspended body. She recognized them immediately—the hybrids, their growth artificially accelerated as their bodies underwent enhancement and augmentation.
The sight was unnerving, but M'gann kept her composure as she counted the tubes. Three hundred held nearly mature specimens, their fully developed forms floating in pale blue liquid. Some even bore battle scars—they'd clearly been tested and returned for further enhancement. Then her face went pale. Beyond those tubes sat another hundred containing bodies ranging from infants to young children—the next batch of hybrids.
Her chest tightened. Three hundred enhanced soldiers were already a nightmare scenario, even with powerhouses like her friends and Wonder Woman aboard the Javelin. But another hundred in development? And some were barely more than babies. Her rational mind understood these young hybrids would eventually become threats and had to be neutralized before they developed. Her heart, however, rebelled at the thought of harming children—even engineered ones designed to be weapons of war.
"Curse these Psions," M'gann muttered through gritted teeth, blaming them for forcing her into this impossible position. After a moment, she forced herself to refocus on the mission. She moved toward the control section of the lab, and what she discovered there made her expression shift from shock to revulsion.
Inside the control room lay scattered Psion bodies. M'gann moved closer to examine them. "Someone killed these Psions… recently," she muttered, examining the corpses. Moving to the other bodies, she noticed something—a brain that hadn't quite died yet, still clinging to the last threads of life.
"Hang on just a little longer," she whispered, bringing her hands together and closing her eyes, delving into the dying mind. Pain lanced through her skull—the brain had suffered severe trauma, and Psion minds were notoriously complex even under ideal conditions. She couldn't suppress a groan as she pushed deeper, sifting through the fragmenting memories.
Blurred silhouettes flashed through her awareness—figures moving with impossible speed, cutting down the Psion researchers. The attack on this scientist had been swift, yet death came just slowly enough for him to catch glimpses of his attackers. Not clearly, but enough to know they weren't Psions.
M'gann's expression grew grim, but she pressed on, searching for what she truly needed—knowledge of how to operate the lab's systems. A moment later, the brain finally gave out, its last neurons firing into darkness. She'd barely scraped together a rudimentary understanding of the controls, but it would have to be enough.
Moving to the main console, she worked quickly, fingers flying across the interface as she deciphered the Psion script. Then her hands froze. "No, no, no…"
She stepped back, mind racing. The Tamaranean women were dead. The system was running on auto mode with no override option. Her eyes swept across the rows of incubation tubes—hundreds of developing hybrids. "Someone wants these to keep growing. But why kill the source? Why not keep the women alive for more production?"
She paced, piecing it together. "Just who attacked?" The blurred figures from the dying scientist's memories flashed through her mind. "Someone trying to seize control of the Hegemony? Outsiders?" She shook her head. "No. It's unlikely to be outsiders. This sector's too secure. It took us a week to arrive here."
The pieces clicked. "An internal power play then? Has to be one of the High Scientists." Those shadowy figures—their speed, their precision. "Those weren't Psions. The way they moved..." Her eyes widened. "The Kryptonian guards. It's Zaria!"
"Damn it. I need to warn the others."
Her hand shot toward her earpiece, then stopped halfway. She glanced at the control panel, then at the rows of incubation tubes. "Wait..." She turned back to the console. "Even if I can't stop it, can I at least sabotage the maturation cycle first?"
Meanwhile at the Weapons Development Lab
"Holy Rao…" Kara's breath caught as she stared at the massive vessel taking shape before her. The design was unmistakably alien, yet something about it made her stomach drop. Those structural elements, that configuration—they reminded her uncomfortably of the Void Sentinel. Smaller, nowhere near the real thing's scale, but the similarities were undeniable. Her jaw tightened. "Please tell me our luck isn't that bad."
While Rachel and M'gann pursued their objectives, Kara had made her way to the weapons development facility. At first, she'd found no way inside—the entire structure was heavily fortified with only a single access point. But she'd maintained her calm, waited patiently, and eventually followed a group of Psions through the entrance.
Inside, she found production lines churning out the same armor she'd seen on the Kryptonian guards, manufacturing the suits in massive quantities. But that wasn't all. As she moved deeper into the facility, more assembly lines came into view—these ones producing weapons by the hundreds.
"That pistol was just a prototype," Kara muttered, her concern growing as she studied the production floor. "These look far more refined. More powerful." The implications settled in her mind. The Psions weren't building a defense force—they were preparing for conquest. Armies of hybrid soldiers, mass-produced armor, advanced weaponry… this was the foundation of a war machine.
She wanted nothing more than to tear the place apart right then, but she held herself back. There was more to see. That's when she rounded a corner and froze at the sight of the ship.
"What are they planning?" she wondered, confusion replacing her shock. As she looked around, all she could see was this one massive ship. The pieces still didn't quite fit. When she spotted Kryptonian guards on patrol, she began systematically documenting everything—every production line, every detail of the ship's construction. Eventually, she managed to slip aboard the vessel itself, navigating to the partially completed command deck. Finding it empty, she quickly interfaced her terminal with a control station and began downloading data.
"Maybe I can leave a backdoor for Mother Empress," she murmured, her fingers already moving across the interface as the idea took shape.
Inside High Scientist Zaria's Lab
Rachel slipped into Zaria's hidden lab with Mother Empress's guidance. Her eyes swept across the equipment—data streams about the tower flickering on displays, and beside them, an empty containment tube.
"Empty," she muttered, moving to the control panels to interface her terminal. "Mother Empress, what do you have?"
"I was right. It's an ascension bridge." Mother Empress's usually calm voice carried an edge. "This Zaria is a fool who doesn't realize what she's done."
"So Zaria's the one using Higher Realm knowledge," Rachel said, her expression hardening.
"Yes. Her research logs show she interfaced directly with a young Kryptonian's mind—that's where she extracted the Higher Realm knowledge. Knowledge of the sinner race, no less. But here's what makes her a complete fool: even after realizing she was being influenced by what lay dormant in the boy, she kept extracting. Her hunger for knowledge and power blinded her." Mother Empress's voice turned cold—a chill Rachel had only heard once before, during the Thanagarian invasion, when Mother2 reacted when Superman insulted the Saiyan Empire and her father. That memory alone told her how serious this had become.
"If that boy's a Kryptonian carrying the Tuffle gene, and he's the source of all this..." Rachel paused, her tone turning solemn. "Has the Tuffle fully awakened?"
"Not yet," Mother Empress replied, her voice still icy. "It's only partially awakened—just beginning to stir. But Zaria's interference made everything worse. When you interface with a superior consciousness like a Tuffle, even one that hasn't fully awakened, there's only one outcome: complete takeover. Normally, the boy as host would be the Tuffle's only pathway to reemerge. But this fool gave it a second option—herself. By interfacing with a carrier, she became a secondary host. It's only a matter of time before the Tuffle consciousness takes full control of her, then uses her resources to fully awaken the original host. Tuffles were a scourge for a reason—they're extremely difficult to eradicate."
Rachel's expression turned grim. "Are you saying Zaria might not even be Zaria anymore? That she could already be a puppet?" Her fists clenched. "Which means the guards, the hybrids, that tower—all of it could be the Tuffle's plan?"
"Precisely," Mother Empress confirmed. "Every action Zaria's taken in recent months—the enhancement programs for the hybrids and the Kryptonians, new weapon development, this tower—they all align with how Tuffles operate in the lower realms. Systematic exploitation of biological resources, obsession with genetic experimentations, construction of unregulated dimensional bridges... these are hallmarks of their civilization. The Psions were perfect puppets, in a way—their ideologies align closely with the Tuffles. But ultimately, the Tuffles are supremacists. They don't see lower realm beings as equals—only as tools for experimentation."
Rachel's mind raced through the implications. "Then we're not just dealing with the Psion Hegemony anymore. We're potentially facing a threat that could rival what our ancestors fought against."
"Potentially, yes," Mother Empress replied. "But there's still time. The Tuffle consciousness hasn't fully awakened yet—it's still consolidating control over Zaria's mind and resources. That's our window. We need to locate the original host—that Kryptonian boy—and destroy this ascension bridge before the consciousness can complete its emergence."
Rachel's gaze returned to the empty containment tube. "The boy was here. This was probably where she studied him." She examined the medical readouts still displayed on nearby screens. "Can you trace where he was moved?"
"Analyzing the facility's internal transport logs now." A moment passed. "Found it. The subject was relocated to a high-security wing in the eastern sector three days ago. But Princess, there's something else you need to see."
Rachel's terminal flickered, displaying multiple holographic projections. One showed schematics of armor, weaponry, and a massive vessel. Another displayed the berserk protocol development status—complete. The last showed a schematic that made her eyes widen. "That's—"
"The tower schematics. Look at the core chamber." Mother Empress's voice was grave.
Rachel leaned closer her eyes narrowing as she studied the design. The chamber was configured around a single focal point—a containment pod at its center.
"The boy isn't just the source of the knowledge," Mother Empress continued. "He's the key. That's why we didn't see any coordinates—he is the coordinates. They're preparing him to be the conduit, using his brain to navigate and lock onto where they wish to emerge in the Higher Realms."
Rachel's hand traced the energy pathways on the schematic, her eyes following each line to its inevitable destination. "When they open the portal, the energies won't just flow through—they'll flood directly into him, won't they?"
"Exactly." Mother Empress's voice was grim. "The tower channels those Higher Realm energies directly into the boy's body through the core chamber. That influx is exactly what the Tuffle consciousness needs to fully awaken the dormant gene."
She paused. "Here's the real problem—a Tuffle that awakens this way will retain a significant portion of their past life's power. The Higher Realm energies act as a catalyst, allowing them to stimulate the gene far beyond what would be possible if they awakened in a lower realm through natural means. We don't even know who this Tuffle was in their previous life or what power level they achieved. But judging by their ability to influence the Psions into building this bridge and manipulating an entire sector—we're clearly witnessing the return of an ancient powerhouse. Even if they're not at their peak, they'd be more than this entire lower realm could handle."
Rachel's calmly listened digesting every word from Mother Empress.
"The progression data shows a multi-stage plan," Mother Empress added. "First, awaken the boy. Then load the Kryptonian and Hybrid forces aboard that vessel. Finally, pass through the portal into the Higher Realm—together."
Rachel's jaw tightened as the implications sank in.
"These fools," Mother Empress said, her voice turning cold. "They've inadvertently built the Tuffle a ready-made battalion of guards for its return."
Rachel stepped back from the display. "Thankfully, the tower's still unfinished. We have a window to act and take it down."
"Yes, but our window is closing fast," Mother Empress responded. "The hybrids and Kryptonians are ready for deployment. The berserker protocol was completed today. And while the tower's unfinished, it can still open a smaller portal with enough power—not large enough for that ship, but more than enough for the Tuffle and it's forces to escape."
A heavy silence fell between them.
"Princess, this has to be stopped. Now."
Rachel took a deep breath and nodded. "Then we need to move fast. I'm contacting the others now."
She touched her earpiece. "Miss Martian, Supergirl, this is Raven. We have a code red situation. The Psion threat's worse than we thought—much worse. We need to regroup immediately."
Static crackled before M'gann's voice came through. "Raven, I'm at the hybrid facility. I was about to sabotage the maturation systems, but—"
"Don't," Rachel cut her off sharply. "Not yet. We need to coordinate our actions carefully. If we tip our hand too early, Zaria—or whatever's controlling her—will accelerate their plans. Meet me at the rendezvous point. And be ready for anything."
"Understood," M'gann replied, concern evident in her voice. "On my way."
"Supergirl, what's your status?"
There was a pause before Kara's voice came through, slightly distorted. "I'm inside the weapons facility. Raven, you're not gonna believe what I found here. It's a—"
"Ship, right?"
"Huh? How did you— Oh! You found that reptile bitch's lab then. Yeah. Raven, this thing's massive, and the design... the style's similar to the Void Sentinel. I'm downloading schematics now, but—" She stopped abruptly. "Wait. Someone's coming. Multiple someones."
"Supergirl, abort and extract," Rachel ordered immediately. "We can't risk exposure yet."
"Too late," Kara whispered urgently. "They're Kryptonian guards, and they're heading straight for the command deck. I'm going dark. I'll meet you both at the rendezvous point."
The line went silent.
Rachel's fist clenched. "Mother Empress, can you track her?"
"Her bio-signature's still active, but she's suppressed her power level completely. She also managed to plant a signal into the ship's system, giving me a backdoor to exploit. Smart. Right now she's hiding in plain sight among the ship's energy signatures. But Princess, those guards weren't on random patrol. Someone directed them there."
A chill ran down Rachel's spine. "You think Zaria knows we're here?"
"Doubtful. Given that Kara's invisible right now, she shouldn't have been spotted. But the Tuffle consciousness is methodical. It's possible it implemented additional security protocols we weren't aware of. Or..." She paused meaningfully. "It's testing its defenses. Probing for weaknesses. Which means through Zaria, it's not leaving anything to chance."
Rachel moved quickly toward the lab's exit, her mind already strategizing. "If that's true, we still have the advantage, though we'll need to change our approach and go big. We're running out of time. After we meet up with the others, we'll strike in a way that shakes this planet."
"Not what I'd recommend, but given the circumstances, going big's a suitable option," Mother Empress said. "I'm uploading everything from all three locations to the ship. When you meet with the others, you'll have a complete intelligence package. But Princess—be extremely careful. If the Tuffle consciousness has progressed as far as I suspect, Zaria may no longer be in control of herself at all. And a Tuffle, even one partially awakened, is a dangerous opponent."
"Understood," Rachel replied grimly. "I won't underestimate this threat."
As she slipped out of the lab and back into the air, a sudden chill spread across Rachel's body, making her stop mid-flight.
"Princess? What just happened?" Mother Empress asked, noticing the readings from Rachel's suit spike for an instant. "Are you okay?"
"I... am. I don't know what that was. Ever since I broke through to the High Integration Realm, my instincts and intuitions have sharpened. I still don't have full control over them, but Dad told me never to ignore them. Just now, I felt a chill, and..." Her hand reached up to caress her neck. "For some reason it felt especially cold around my neck. Strange." Rachel was genuinely confused.
"A cultivator's intuition is indeed something that shouldn't be ignored," Mother Empress said solemnly. "Princess, the higher your cultivation level becomes, the more in-tune you become with the Primordial laws. And you, like your father, are one of the rare ones with a natural connection to both the Primordial laws of space and the Primordial laws of time. If I'm correct, that may have been a premonition."
Stunned, Rachel's eyes grew wide. "A premonition? That's..."
'Doesn't that mean I...' The thought died as her fingers found her neck again. That phantom chill still lingered. She drew a slow breath, forcing the sensation down until her expression hardened with resolve. "Whatever that was... we can't afford to second-guess ourselves now. We stay sharp, stay ready." Her jaw set. "Right now, we regroup and prepare. Send word to my mother—I want her on standby. The moment we engage and draw them out, she drops in. Then we burn this whole place to the ground."
"Understood, Princess," Mother Empress said softly.
Rachel continued toward the rendezvous point, finalizing their plan of attack.
Inside Mother Empress's Cyberspace
After completing her tasks, Mother Empress became contemplative.
"No matter how I see it, that's a bad omen," she muttered, her expression solemn. She closed her eyes and recalled Rachel's words about the sudden cold feeling that made her stop mid-flight.
"Sorry, Princess." As her eyes opened, they turned cold. "But I won't be able to keep my promise to you. Losing you or the Mistress is not an option."
Her eyes shone silver as her hair turned from crimson to silver, floating upward.
Aboard the Prometheus Javelin
Unbeknownst to Diana, who had been meditating on the command bridge while patiently waiting to be called down, deep within the Javelin's core, a protocol activated. In the next moment, a beam shot forth from the communication grid, traveling through subspace.