From Last Time:

********

Ching opened the door for her, a very old, very familiar book still in his hand: "Four Years Among the Stars." It was the journal of Tyrus, who, hundreds of years ago, had commanded the first interstellar voyage. It was one of the few bound volumes Ching owned and he treated it with such care, always mindful of its dry, delicate pages and ancient binding. Their society had saved their important works of art and literature, but in digital media. In a world without trees and where synthetic paper was still difficult and costly to create, most of the bound volumes in existence were those precious texts that people brought with them. She gave him a faint smile. "How can you reread the same book over and over again?"

He closed the door behind her and looked down at the book he was holding. "I find it comforting," he replied unguardedly. "He was as alone, as lost in the universe, as we are. Yet, he found his way."

She followed him silently into his quarters. There was so much she wanted to say, but she didn't know where to begin. "Your mother gave me that book the day I left for the Academy," he said.

"I remember," she replied quietly. Her mother had pressed the volume into Ching's hands. It was her mother's very favorite book. And it was Ching's, too. She'd lent it to him when he was just a boy.

"It was one of the best presents I've ever received," he said. He placed the book on the table and turned around to draw her into his arms. "Are you all right?" he asked, the concern evident in his voice.

"It was so awful," she whispered against his chest. He ran a soothing hand up and down her back. "It's been days and I still cannot get the images out of my mind."

He kissed the crown of her hair and cradled the back of her head with his hand as he held her close. She tucked her head under his chin. "How could this have happened?"

"I don't know. But I will find out," he responded.

"I just wish I could forget all this," she murmured.

"I know," he whispered hoarsely.

********

New Stuff:


Talan removed her boots and sat down on the cot in the Chief Engineer's office. There was something morbid about having taken up residence inside the now deceased engineer's workspace, but she required instantaneous access to the resources available only in this office. A disquieting calm blanketed the camp. The void left by the former inhabitants was palpable and thick in the air. The dead haunted this place with their memories and their fears and their plans for the future which would now never be fulfilled.

They had been in Silban for over a week now. She was careful to rotate troops frequently, paying special attention to the rotation of the most emotionally taxing duties. While the fighting was over, the anxiety had not receded in the least. Her troops were weary and on edge – their nerves shot and their bodies exhausted. She hadn't had a moment's sleep since days before they'd answered the distress call. The few minutes of meditation she managed here and there were hardly sufficient. She had her limits and she'd crossed them, probably somewhere around two days earlier. As much as she'd wanted to ignore those boundaries, her judgment was impaired and her reflexes slowed.

She lay back on the stiff cot and closed her eyes, hoping sleep would bring some relief to her aching limbs and clouded mind. Hoping also that it wouldn't bring with it the unwanted thoughts she'd been trying to check. It was impossibly difficult to break free from anger's spell. It was a toxic elixir, running deep in her veins and poisoning everything it touched. When she closed her eyes and saw the bodies of the dead, broken and discarded, all she could think about was Nor. His thirst for destruction, his sheer hatred of every virtue of humanity, had inspired this senseless slaughter. He was a monster of the highest order – capable of ferocious cruelty beyond her ken. And she couldn't help but think how much better this world would be if he no longer inhabited it.

Kal El's anger toward Nor had only grown. He took Nor's attacks on defenseless civilians much more personally than Nor's torture of him. He said nothing of it, but he'd also done little to hide the sentiments. Rage and grief were etched into his expression and he seethed with a sense of impotence that she, too, felt. Nor had taken what he wanted, destroyed what he wanted, and killed whom he wanted and all the forces of New Krypton had been unable to stop him. They'd failed to watch over the innocent. Their charge had not been kept. Their promise had been broken. She shook herself mentally in an attempt to dispel the dark ruminations. These thoughts were only going to nurture an overactive mind in desperate need of rest, she thought groggily.

Unable to sleep, she wondered, not for the first time, about Kal El's peculiar aptitude for search and rescue work. He had every bit as much skill and understanding of it as she did. His knowledge hadn't been solely academic, either. She'd seen despair in his eyes when they'd found bodies, but it wasn't the rude shock of someone who'd never seen tragedies so close they could be touched. He wore a look of frustration, regret, and dashed hopes, like someone who was used to getting there in time and helping those who needed him. But his eye glimmered with sad resignation. He was also intimately familiar with the pain of losing people.

She didn't doubt for a moment that he'd spoken the literal truth when he said he'd done this hundreds of times before, but she couldn't quite imagine how, why, or when. He'd told her that he was a journalist in his old life. What occasion would a reporter have to engage in such dangerous rescues? However he'd come into this sort of work, his help and experience had been invaluable. Her admiration and respect for him had only grown. She hadn't doubted that he would exhibit physical courage, but it was the depth of his emotional strength that had impressed her. In the face of so much death and misery, he had persevered, showing such compassion for the survivors and carrying quietly his grief for the dead. She hoped the burden of what they'd experienced wasn't more than he could bear. He had already seen too much and endured too much in this struggle.

Talan exhaled deeply, her body beyond exhausted. As troubled as her thoughts were, she needed the sleep. Her troops needed a commander who was sharp and focused and capable of leading them in the daunting tasks that remained before them.

********

"Mr. President, they just need $20 million worth of food and medical aid to cover the gap created by the aid groups withdrawing," Lois said into the phone as she paced around Perry's office. Perry gave her a bemused smile as he shook his head. It wasn't tough to figure out how much the begging and the cajoling and convincing bugged her. This stuff was not Mad Dog Lane's cup of tea. It was something else to watch Lois, a young woman he'd known since she was nineteen, as a superhero out of costume but not out of character, trying to convince the President of the United States to change his foreign policy.

"No, sir, I'll take care of all the logistics," she assured President Young. Perry watched as she rolled her eyes and listened for a long moment. At least she had the sense to know that interrupting the president wasn't the way to convince him of anything.

"Look, I'm sure that there's $20 million in spare change in the couch cushions down at the Office of Management and Budget…" she said, a note of frustration creeping into her voice. Perry arched a brow at her, hoping to give her his best look of parental chastisement. She'd attract more bees with a teaspoonful of honey than all the snark in the world, after all.

Her mouth twisted into a frown as she continued to listen. The look of consternation started to fade slowly, morphing into one of puzzlement, and then one of surprise. "No, sir, that sounds completely fair. I…I appreciate it. Thank you very much, Mr. President," she stammered.

"Sounds like you got your way," Perry said as she hung up the phone.

"I did," she replied, obviously not yet able to believe it.

Perry laughed heartily. "Way to go, Darlin.'"

"Thanks for letting me use your phone, Chief."

"No sweat. The White House probably has caller ID and it would be a bit weird for Ultrawoman to be calling from the Kent farm in Kansas."

"No kidding," she replied as she started for the door.

"Back to Kinwara?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Not yet. I'm going to fly a patrol over Guangdong first."

"China?"

"Yep. It might be harder for Ambassador Lin to keep denouncing my meddlesome ways when I'm always getting good press in his country."

"Been reading ‘The Art of War,' huh?"

"Yeah, let's find out if any of it stuck," she said with a wink as she exited the office.

********

Commander Cayis walked through the hallways of the administrative compound outside the executive offices. The mazes of corridors were home to the barely contained chaos to be expected given the number of high strung, overworked civilians who spent their days and nights here. Within Air Command, she could expect the enlisted personnel and junior officers to step aside and give a general commander the right of way. Here, she had to nimbly dodge the Councilors, advisors, legal officers, and staffers who rushed through the compound. She turned a sharp corner and found herself outside the office of the First Ministers' chief of staff. She technically outranked Ching, but he had the civilian authority to conduct this investigation on the First Ministers' behalf. So she waited outside her subordinate's office, knowing that what she was going to do would effectively end her career.

Cayis was an officer's officer. She maintained order and discipline, followed protocol and regulations to the letter, and saw to every task with careful consideration and attention to detail. Throughout her career, she'd never taken a wrong step. She had no feel for politics and had avoided having to play the game by simply doing her job as well as it could have been done. But that entire career no longer existed. She'd ignored her instincts and her training and the results had been catastrophic. There was no doubt in her mind that those communications they'd intercepted related to the attack on Silban. The blood of twelve hundred civilians and dozens of soldiers was on her hands. It was time to take responsibility for her actions and accept their consequences.

Ching opened the door and saluted smartly. "Thank you for coming, ma'am," he said politely as he stepped aside to allow her to enter.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She'd have to find her voice soon enough.

********

"You've been busy," Dr. Friskin said as she held the door open for Ultrawoman.

Lois nodded as she stepped into the doctor's office. "There's been a lot to do, but I think I'm making progress."

"You sound hopeful."

Lois bit her lip, deep in thought. "I guess I am," she ventured. "People are paying more attention to the problem. I think there might be a real change in policy. It's just moving forward so slowly." She sat down on the couch.

Lying down, she closed her eyes. "I want to believe that I'm making a difference. That we can change the world for the better, even if we can't fix everything."

"Maybe the glass is half full, then?" Dr. Friskin ventured.

"Sometimes I'm just impressed that there's still a glass at all."

She heard Dr. Friskin put down her pen. "What about life outside of work?"

"What?" Lois turned to look at the doctor.

"You said a while ago that you don't do this 24 hours a day. What do you do when you're not saving the world?" Dr. Friskin asked as though it were the simplest question in the world.

"It's not like I have a lot of free time for hobbies," Lois replied, trying to evade the question.

"What about relationships? Family? Friends? A significant other?" the doctor probed.

"There are people I care about," Lois replied guardedly.

"People who are close to you?" Dr. Friskin was clearly not moving past the subject anytime soon.

"Yes."

"Would say as close as family?" The good doctor was like a dog with a bone, Lois thought to herself.

"Yes."

She tapped her pen on her notepad. "How important are those relationships to you?"

"I couldn't do what I do without them," Lois replied. "But the best way I can keep them safe is to keep them separate from my work."

"Do you mean that physically or emotionally?" Dr. Friskin pressed.

"Physically, both…I don't know." Lois sighed in frustration.

"So you don't talk to them about your work, then?"

"I tend to leave out the details. They see enough of it on the news and in the paper," Lois said.

"Have you noticed your work affecting your relationships with them?"

Lois frowned. "How do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, do you find yourself getting short with them? Do they get on your nerves in a way they didn't before?"

"No, not at all," Lois replied. "If anything, I depend on them a lot more than I used to."

Dr. Friskin scribbled notes furiously on her notepad. "That's good. But if you recognize that you need them more now than you did before, why do you think it is that you try to protect them emotionally from your work?"

"Because they shouldn't have to see the things I see," Lois replied, her voice wavering slightly.

"I take it they're not invulnerable, are they?"

"No," Lois answered simply.

"Emotionally, neither are you, right?"

"Yes," she admitted, fidgeting restlessly with the edges of her cape. "But I knew that when I started doing this. It's a part of my job and I accepted it."

"It's one thing to take on a task, knowing it'll be difficult. It's another thing entirely to have to live with that difficulty every single day. Just because you can do, physically, what no one else in the world can, doesn't mean you can expect the same from yourself emotionally. You may be superhuman, but emotionally, you're as human as they come."

********

"Do you think this is the right thing to do?" Clark asked as he paced nervously in the conference room.

Zara looked up at him from her seat at the table. "Clark, I completely agree with your suggestion. We have no other choice."

"There are going to be consequences," he mused aloud, not really sure if he was trying to talk himself out of doing this. They weren't wrong about this. At least, he knew he shouldn't be second-guessing himself. Why couldn't he trust his own instincts anymore?

"There will," she agreed. "But the consequences of not doing this could be much worse."

"You're right," he replied, not knowing where the begrudging tone in his voice had come from.

"Sir, ma'am, General Commander Daros is here," a voice announced over the communication system.

Clark strode over to the wall and jabbed the intercom button. "Send him in."

The door slid open noiselessly, revealing the senior officer. He saluted smartly before entering the room.

"Have a seat, Commander," Zara said calmly.

Daros took a seat directly across from her at the table. He folded his hands in front of himself on the table's surface. From the table's control panel, Zara turned on the communication system. A staticky recording of muffled voices played over the speakers. A distinct look of unease settled on Daros's face. From where he stood on the opposite side of the room, Clark watched the other man swallow roughly. "Ma'am, what is this?" he asked.

<<…the outpost's mainframe has been compromised… weeks… but we'll be able to bring the defensive net down completely...>>

<<Have we mobilized sufficient forces?>>

<<…Yes…expect…little resistance…>>

She turned the system off again. "Rebel communications regarding the attack on Silban. Intercepted by our signals intelligence weeks ago. Deciphered a few days ago under Commander Ching's direction," she replied, her tone even and dispassionate.

In long, rapid strides, Clark moved toward the table. "But you should have already known that, Commander. These tapes were in your custody."

The officer's eyes grew wide. "Sir, we did everything possible to decipher those materials…" he stammered unconvincingly, a thin sheen of perspiration forming on his forehead.

"No you didn't!" Clark snapped angrily. "You derailed the investigation. You took the project from the competent division that should have been handling it. You hid the information from General Command and from us! Every step of the way, you ensured these materials wouldn't be discovered and that we wouldn't be able to act on them."

All the color drained from Daros's face. "I never meant…"

"It doesn't matter what you intended," Zara interrupted icily. "Whether by malice or gross incompetence, you allowed the attack on Silban to occur. You prevented us from learning the truth in time."

Pale as a ghost, Daros rushed to explain himself. "Ma'am, sir, I only wanted to have a better understanding of the information so as not to cause unnecessary alarm."

"Unnecessary alarm?" Clark exclaimed, his voice thundering loudly enough to make the other man flinch. "How many people have to be slaughtered in order to make it a ‘necessary alarm?'"

"Sir, I realize the gravity of my error in judgment. I was afraid that these tapes would cause an overreaction before they could be properly analyzed. I was concerned about how the information would be interpreted."

Clark wrapped his hands around the back of the chair in front of him, gripping it tightly enough to turn his knuckles bone white. He fought to keep his tone calm and quiet. "Your job is not to screen out vital information you think will be misinterpreted. The Council has entrusted us to defend this world. If you thought we were incapable of interpreting the information and acting in New Krypton's best interests, you could have advised us of your misgivings. You could have gone directly to General Command. You could have taken your concerns to the head of the Council. But instead, you kept lifesaving information to yourself. We could have prevented Silban…"

"Sir, there is no way I can adequately apologize…"

"I'm not finished!" Clark bellowed. He felt his skin burn, his face flushed. "We do not demand blind loyalty. We do not expect our officers or advisors to tell us only what they think we want to hear. What we need from the people who serve with us is the unvarnished truth. If you cannot deliver that, you have no business wearing that uniform."

"Sir, ma'am, I do not expect forgiveness…"

"Save your explanations for the inquest," Zara snapped irritably. She pressed a button on the control panel. "Lieutenant Parth, General Commander Daros is under arrest. Please come and escort him to the detention facility," she said with no hint of emotion.

Daros gaped at them, open-mouthed. He slumped bonelessly into his chair, his eyes wide and vacant. Parth entered the room with a pair of enlisted guards. Off Zara's terse nod, the guards grabbed both of Daros's arms and frog marched him out of the conference room.

When they were gone, Clark let out a sigh and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "We've just arrested one general commander and relieved two others of their duties. The non-combat division of Joint Command is leaderless. Our intelligence units are falling apart…"

"The divisions are still functional, they just need good leadership," Zara replied. He knew she was just trying to bring him some much needed perspective.

He took a deep breath, trying to remind himself that the world wasn't falling apart. Not yet, anyway. "I want them under the control of someone trustworthy. Someone we know will do the right thing."

"Who do you have in mind?" she asked patiently.

"Ching," Clark said. "I want these divisions reporting directly to Ching."

"Ching may be our most important political advisor, but he doesn't have the military rank necessary…"

"Then we promote him," Clark interrupted. "He only needs to be one rank higher, then we can have all the intelligence chiefs report directly to him."

"Are you certain this is how you want to handle the situation?"

"Is there anyone you trust more than Ching?" he asked.

"Of course not," she replied. "But we still have to find a way to replace the three general commanders we just relieved today. Ching certainly cannot do his job and all of theirs."

"I know, but whoever we pick, I'll be a lot more comfortable knowing they answer to Ching. Are we agreed?" he asked.

She nodded curtly. "We are."

********

"Xinhua, huh?" Perry asked, his expression arranged in a thoughtful frown.

"Dalton set it up," she replied.

"It's China's biggest daily," Perry mused aloud. "You'll reach a lot of people."

"Right, my neatly censored, overwrought interview consisting of nothing but platitudes will reach hundreds of millions," she said snidely. She paced anxiously in his office, still wearing the suit. "Perry, we're talking about the government's mouthpiece newspaper. The Chinese government. You know, the one that attacks pro-democracy teenagers with tanks, forcibly sterilizes women, and throws reporters in jail? I'm genetically predisposed to hating these guys."

Perry looked up at her from where he sat on the couch, his tie loosened, his vest discarded. He grinned and shook his head. "And from her considerable bully pulpit on the Planet's editorial page, Lois Lane can denounce these things all she wants. But you know as well as I do that Ultrawoman doesn't get to play that game."

"So I should make nice with a bunch of dictators?"

"You don't have to sing their praises. You just have to extend the olive branch, let them save face. You said it yourself – you can use the good press to your advantage."

She shook her head ruefully, not sure if her editor really understood how much this bothered her. "It just seems so hypocritical."

"Diplomacy is the highest form of hypocrisy," he replied, revealing a cynical bent she hadn't expected. "But what choice do you have?"

********

Clark tilted his head to read the titles embossed on the impressive volumes in his library. Behind him, someone cleared his throat. "Sir, you wanted to see me?"

Clark turned around. "Sergeant, thank you for coming," Clark said as he gestured toward the table and chairs in the middle of the room. The tall sergeant pulled out a chair as Clark turned back toward the books. He ran his hand along their spines until he found the volume he was looking for.

Book in hand, he crossed the room and sat down across from Lok Sim at the table. "I've been looking for a new chief communications engineer in General Command," Clark began. "I spoke with my officers; General Commander Ching's recommendation was particularly glowing but he admitted some bias since you figured out how to prove his innocence when he was on trial."

The quiet young man smiled modestly. Clark continued, his tone serious once again. "Every last one of them said you were the best man for the job."

Lok Sim looked stunned. For a long moment, he said nothing. "I'm humbled, and honored, and not quite sure what to say."

"Say you'll take the assignment," Clark replied simply.

"Of course, sir," Lok Sim responded, quickly reverting to proper military form.

Clark nodded with a tight lipped smile. He looked down at the book he still held in his hands. "I understand this is a favorite of yours," he said, reaching across the table to hand Lok Sim the volume.

Lok Sim opened his mouth as though to speak, but remained silent, his eyes alight with wonder. Reverently, he took the book in both of his large hands. He opened its cover carefully, turning the delicate pages. "This edition is hundreds of years old," he said, flabbergasted.

"Oldest in existence," Clark replied. "Captain Enza tells me that you and Thia have been reading it together."

"Just on a digital tablet," Lok Sim said breathlessly, still focused on the pages, with their neat Kryptonian script and richly colored illustrations. "I don't own a bound volume of it."

"Well, you can hold onto it for as long as you want," Clark replied. "I'd like to make it a gift, but I'm pretty sure these books belong to my office, and not really to me."

"This book is a treasure," Lok Sim replied, closing the volume gingerly. "I will take excellent care of it, sir, I promise."

Clark smiled. "I know you will. Say hello to Thia for me."

"Of course, sir."

"Thank you, Sergeant," Clark said as he rose to his feet.

Lok Sim stood up, coming immediately to attention. "Thank you, sir," he said.

********

Ching waited by the docking bays while the heavy transports landed inelegantly. The transports' doors opened and weary looking soldiers streamed out in neat lines. Every last one of them straightened and saluted as they walked past him. Ching returned their salute. Finally, their commander stepped off her transport.

"Welcome home," he said.

"Thank you," Talan replied, the dark circles under her eyes the only evidence of her exhaustion.

"The First Ministers are meeting with the command chiefs this evening and would like you present. They want a full update on the status of forces. I believe they are anxious to know if the offensive can be re-launched," Ching explained as they started to walk toward her quarters.

"I understand," she said, giving no other hint as to her thoughts on the subject.

"Your daily intelligence briefing is waiting for you. The officers who prepared it and I are all available if you have any questions or concerns," he continued.

"Thank you, I will review it shortly."

"If you need nothing further, ma'am…"

She interrupted him abruptly. "Ching, there is no need for this ‘ma'am' business any longer. We are of equal rank."

Ching smiled slightly. "My entire career, I never thought this would happen," he admitted.

"I always knew it would," she replied. "Congratulations on the promotion, General Commander."

********

His jeep rattled and bounced along the hard packed dirt road. The body of the vehicle vibrated and shook, but it wasn't the uncomfortable ride that troubled General Rapin. He frowned as he glanced at the driver and the two other blue helmeted soldiers in the back seat. In front of and behind his jeep were transport vehicles, carrying his men to the so-called safe haven. His major had called from Bakamba, panic stricken, with reports of massive rebel activity. Rapin did the only thing he could think of, he mobilized his troops. There were innocent people to protect.

They slowed as they approached the UN checkpoint. As they passed through, the guards saluted him. The convoy proceeded toward the center of the safe haven. Major Patwari jogged toward his jeep. "Sir, the rebels are advancing from the east," he said breathlessly.

"What are we doing to protect the refugees?" Rapin asked.

The major pulled off his blue beret and put his hands on his hips as he turned back toward the town. "We've moved everyone into the center of the town. They're in houses, hotels, schools, hospitals…"

"Good," Rapin replied curtly. "Gather the officers." Major Patwari nodded before running back the way he came. Rapin motioned for his driver to continue toward the center of the town. They didn't have much time.

In the major's makeshift office, Rapin stood over a map of the town and the surrounding hills, waiting for the other officers to convene. He looked up at the sound of the door opening. His officers entered, wearing matching somber expressions.

"Gentlemen, if your intelligence is accurate, the rebels are planning a massive assault on this town. I want to fortify this position. I want to dig in and defend this ground."

"Sir, our mandate will not permit…"

"I know," Rapin interrupted. "The UN will not let us establish an aggressive defense of these people. We are not to fire unless we personally are fired upon. I'm aware of the limits of our mandate. And what I'm planning will most certainly violate that mandate." Rapin narrowed his eyes as he looked around at the officers, their expressions were anxious. He met each of their eyes. None of them looked away.

An hour later, Rapin stood in front of his gathered troops, men from a dozen nations, who had answered the world's call for help. He squinted under the glare of the midday sun at them, organized in neat lines in the center of the town, their bodies held stiffly at attention.

"What I am asking you to do is a violation of your mandate," Rapin admitted. "I am not ordering you to take part in this operation. Any of you who do not wish to participate are free to return to your barracks. But the people in this town were promised sanctuary, and I will not abandon them. If you wish to go, you may go. You will face no penalties."

To a man, they held their ground.

********

Lois flew over Lake Regina, feeling oddly unsettled. Something was wrong, something just didn't seem right. She slowed in midair and put her earpiece into place. She switched through the channels, hoping to get a better sense of what was going on. A frown marred her expression as she heard Rapin's voice, giving orders in his accented English to his officers. She took off for Bakamba, listening intently as she tried to discern what was happening on the ground. As she approached the town, she was able to hear the general on the phone.

<<General, you do not have the authority to do this…>>

<<I am standing my ground…>>

<<I will have no choice but to relieve you of your command>>

<<Then come over here and relieve me of my command! I will not abandon these people!>>

The sound of gunfire shattered the air. With an extra burst of speed, she careened into the town and the live firefight that had engulfed it.

********