JB: Chapter 14

I landed on the rooftop of the Daily Planet not too long after Superman had taken off for it. He was faster than I was, of course, but it still rankled my pride a bit to see him leaning against the bronze globe with his arms folded across his chest like he'd been waiting for me. Of course, that was the Saiyan part of me rising up to the forefront. The part of me that had previously been human reminded the Saiyan Part of me of our training at the Monastery and to tamp down on that pride. I landed, and Superman made his way over, no longer leaning against the Globe.

"All right, let's start with the obvious first. Who are you and where are you from?" Questioned Superman.

"My name is Rugulo. I'm a Saiyan, and I really don't have a home outside of my ship." I answered.

"All right, follow-up question, what's a Saiyan?" Queried Superman.

"A Warrior Race. There were millions of us once, now? Maybe a few dozen are scattered throughout the universe. We made the mistake of being vassals to someone who hated our guts as a matter of course. One day, he simply decided we were more trouble keeping around than we were worth and issued a recall order. All Saiyan Warriors are to return to the Homeworld. Then once most of us had arrived, he blew up our Homeworld." I nodded.

"When did this happen? And how did you survive?" Asked Superman.

"Sixteen Years Ago. I, like everyone else who survived, was off-world at the time." I responded.

"So your parents sent you off-world to save you? You can't be much older than Sixteen yourself, after all." Questioned Superman.

Oh, Clark, you're really looking for commonalities in our stories, huh? I can't blame you. After all, you wouldn't be the first to think that. At least outside of this universe, anyway. Unfortunately, I'm going to have to burst your bubble here. There's nothing wholesome about the reasons I was sent off-world. With that thought, I spoke up once again.

"No. I doubt my Parents cared too much whether I lived or died. My story doesn't begin quite that hopefully, I'm afraid." I refuted.

"Then what?" Queried Superman.

"Saiyans are born to do one thing, to fight. You could say it's indoctrinated in us. We all have inborn instincts, of course, but the way we're raised only sharpens those instincts to the detriment of the ability of reason and logic to restrain them fully. See, when a Saiyan is born, we're placed in a Gestation Tank and artificially aged, all while our brains are pumped full of information needed to do our jobs as good little warriors. Naturally, that includes a healthy dose of propaganda. By the time we're taken out of the tanks, we've been aged to the level of a toddler in just a few days. For a Saiyan Warrior, that's considered old enough to be sent out to fight." I explained.

"They sent you off-world as a toddler to fight?" Asked Superman.

"No. I wasn't strong enough to be a Warrior from birth. They sent me off-world to be an Infiltration Baby." I admitted.

"That sounds ominous." Pressed Superman.

"You have no idea. See, Babies who are taken out of the Gestation Tank but aren't strong enough to fight get sent to worlds with low combat potential to infiltrate, build strength, and eventually conquer the World in the name of the Saiyan Race. It was a practice our former overlords allowed to continue because a world under the Control of a Saiyan was ultimately a world they controlled. The world could then be ordered liquidated to be sold to new buyers, or turned into an outpost of their Empire, depending on the whims of our Overlords at the time. I was just fortunate to be sent to Suirpalam and managed to escape the cycle of destruction." I answered.

"Suirpalam?" Questioned Superman.

"A world in a sector far away from here. It's populated by an intelligent, ape-like species, not too dissimilar from how we Saiyans looked back before evolving to our current, mostly hairless state. Suirpalam, or at least the region I was found in by the locals, had a long tradition of Warrior Monks and Monasteries. I was subdued by the Monks of the Monastery of the Great Khaz'ro atop Wine-Fruit Mountain. They taught me the discipline I needed to rein in my artificially honed Warrior's Instincts. It was that discipline that allowed me to channel my hunger for battle into more appropriate avenues." I informed.

"What avenues were those?" Queried Superman.

"Most recently? Universal Bounty-Hunting. I worked with a Thanagarian Crew under the Former Wingman Shayera Thal. Together, we hunted down and captured criminals for various governments in exchange for money. It wasn't an easy life, but for a Saiyan? It was far less destructive and far more acceptable." I shrugged.

"I see. So, why come to Earth? I don't think we have any bounties." Mused Superman.

"Because one of my fellow infiltration babies was sent here on the same day I was sent to Suirpalam, a Saiyan named Kakarot. I'm hoping that someone taught him to rein in his impulses the way the Monks taught me to rein in mine." I answered.

"And if not?" Asked Superman.

"If not, then I will perform that task myself. Paying it forward, so to speak. I don't want to kill him if I don't have to, there are few enough Saiyans left in the Universe as it is." I responded.

"You'd kill him?" Questioned Superman.

"I would if I had to. I don't think you understand how destructive a Saiyan allowed to grow unchecked can be. I was lucky to land where I did and be found by who I was. You can't count on that sort of thing happening consistently, though. If his mindset hasn't changed and he hasn't found another path, then Kakarot may just be the greatest threat to this world currently out there. If it is too late for him to learn, then I may have no alternative." I insisted.

"How powerful could he be?" Queried Superman.

"Power is difficult to truly quantify, no matter what the Arcosians say. However, their Power Level Units give a decent ballpark of things. This device here is a scouter. It reads Power Levels. When I first read yours, it was at seven-hundred-thousand, though dropping quickly because of the Kryptonite Radiation. My own Power Level currently rests, at maximum, at twenty thousand. However, there are several factors that can change such things rapidly, especially as Saiyans are concerned. The First is the Oozaru Transformation, which, when tapped into, allows for a tenfold increase in physical capability and combat power. The second is the Zenkai. When a Saiyan is injured, upon healing, our power increases dramatically as our bodies adapt. Zenkai is imprecise. Sometimes you might only see that needle move a bit, but other times you could see a multiplier of many times your previous combat power." I explained.

"So what are you saying?" Asked Superman.

"I am saying that if left to grow unchecked, without any alternate path to follow, Kakarot may be beyond my ability to rein in or defeat. If that is the case, and he refuses to learn the lessons I did at the Monastery, death is the only option that won't see this planet conquered or destroyed." I answered.

"Well, if he's been here for sixteen years already, I doubt that he's grown that strong, or he'd have conquered the world already." Huffed Superman.

"There is always that hope, as well as the hope he has found a new path for himself." I agreed.

"So, my next question is obviously about Kryptonians. You said there might be others out there like me?" Questioned Superman.

"There might. Krypton had a small number of colonies cut off from the Mother World for several centuries before Krypton's Destruction. Daxam, for example, though they largely shun contact with outsiders, preferring to send their dissidents out into the wider universe for everyone else to deal with. Kandor and Argo were attacked by the Coluan Conqueror Braniac. Kandor was stolen entirely and placed in one of Braniac's Bottles for study, while Argo may have suffered a similar fate. Nobody knows, and the attack happened too shortly before the Planet's Explosion for the rest of the Universe to get the full details." I informed.

"I see. So there might be others like me out there." Mused Superman.

"It's possible." I affirmed.

"You've given me something to think about, at least. Thank you." Nodded Superman.

"Of course. I do plan to stay on Earth for a while, at least, so if you ever need to ask me about something, let me know and I'll offer what info I have. I probably won't be hard to find." I offered.

"I appreciate it. What do you plan to do for money?" Queried Superman.

"I have plenty of Gold and Platinum thanks to mining a pair of Asteroids before setting down. I should have enough money to last for a while, assuming the exchange rates are favorable for precious metals." I responded.

"How much gold and platinum do you have?" Asked Superman.

"Two and a half of your Standard Tons each." I answered.

"At the current exchange rates, that's over three hundred ten million dollars of gold and platinum. You can't exchange it all at once, you understand that, right?" Questioned Superman.

"Can the local bullion market not handle it?" I queried.

"No, it'll crash the market." Opined Superman.

"Then I suppose I will just cash what I need at any given time." I shrugged.

"Good. I learned that the hard way after trying to sell a bunch of diamonds I created myself." Smirked Superman.

"All right, now, though, I'd like to get some of the Gold I have on me exchanged. Is there a place to do so nearby?" I asked.

"The First Metropolitan Bank should have you covered. It's that building there." Nodded Superman, pointing at a building that looked like some sort of modern art meets art deco glass and steel nightmare.

"Thanks for the advice. . .what do I call you? I can tell by the crest you're wearing that you're from the Kryptonian House of El, but I don't really know anything else." I frowned, lying.

"I'm Superman, though that's just my costumed name. I have a private name that's for friends and family. A secret identity. You might want to look into one yourself if you're staying long." Responded Superman.

"Maybe, but not today." I nodded.

Then, I headed off to the building indicated to exchange some of my Gold and Platinum Discs for money or maybe to start an account. As I did so, my scouter chimed, clueing me into the fact that there was a marginal power level of around sixty watching me. I paid it no mind and headed inside to deal with my business.

After all, I could handle something like that easily. . .

XXXX

Lex Luthor frowned as he received the report from the Security Team he'd sent to watch Superman. Apparently, Corben had been on the brink of defeating that overgrown, garish, buffoon when he had been attacked by another Alien. This one, it seemed, hadn't been affected by the Kryptonite Radiation or the Kryptonite Lasers and had seemingly trounced Corben in a single blow.

"Mister Luthor? He's currently at the First Metropolitan Bank. I have Karnowsky watching him now. Should I have him engage?" Questioned the Head of the Security Team, Alan Powers.

Alan had come highly recommended. A former US Marine Corps Force Recon Gunnery Sergeant, he'd fought both in public wars and in off-the-books assignments before being cashiered. He'd done a stint for corporate security for Ace Chemicals over in Gotham before he quit last year and moved to Metropolis with his son Derek for the better school system. Lex had snapped him right up and had him running LexCorp's Security. He'd felt he needed a more militaristic touch after the Alien had debuted.

"No. If Vale's pet psychopath couldn't handle this new threat, I sincerely doubt that Barrage will be able to. You said he appears to be a teenager?" Queried Lex.

"He does, Sir. Sixteen or so, unless I miss my guess." Informed Alan.

"In that case, there are other ways to deal with him. Ones that are possibly less costly in terms of research and development, and which may even be able to be turned to our advantage." Mused Lex.

"Sir?" Asked Alan.

"Think about it. When you were sixteen, what was foremost on your mind most of the time?" Questioned Lex.

"You're thinking we can distract him with a girl, Sir?" Queried Alan.

"If he thinks at all like us, then possibly. In fact, if we can control the particular object of his affection, we may even be able to pit this newcomer against Superman." Informed Lex.

"What were you thinking, Sir?" Asked Alan.

"You recently told me you were training a Girl who seemed to show an abnormal amount of physical capabilities for a teenager, didn't you?" Questioned Lex.

"Yes, Sir. Mercy Graves. She came highly recommended by the Director of the Cairo Office. Something about saving him from a riot after your announcement of LexOil's new Red Sea Pipeline. She's tested well off the charts for physical fitness and combat ability." Answered Alan.

"She would be of a similar age to this new Alien, wouldn't she?" Queried Lex.

"Yes, Sir, but I'm not completely sure that approach would work." Frowned Alan.

"How so?" Asked Lex.

"Mercy's not exactly well-socialized, Sir. According to the Cairo Office, she was practically living out in the desert before running into Director Sharaf." Responded Alan.

"Then it is our task to make certain she is Socialized, Alan. In the meantime, I want surveillance on this new Alien as well. Tell Barrage to keep watching him and report back if something happens that might show off more of his capabilities." Ordered Lex.

"Yes, Sir." Nodded Alan, saluting before heading out of Lex's Office.

In the meantime, Lex opened his left-hand desk drawer before opening the false bottom of the drawer to reveal a keypad. Typing in the code, zero, one, one, two, three, five, the first six digits of the Fibonacci Sequence, the keypad blinked green for a moment before it and the surface it sat on slid up into the desk. Lex reached inside, avoiding the green Kryptonite Ring for the moment, and pulled out a black, leather-bound book. Inside were the names, numbers, and relevant details of various members of his less-than-legitimate contacts. Assassins, Mercenaries, and hitmen, all with contact information and a few levers that Lex could use to manipulate them in negotiations. Opening the book, Lex set himself to the task of contracting an assassin.

After all, there was no reason he couldn't induce the new Alien into showing more of his capabilities, now was there? It would behoove them to have a greater picture of just what this new Alien could do, after all. Why wouldn't Lex make use of his vast resources to suss that out? Settling on a particular name, one that was more or less local to Metropolis, Lex dialled the number using an encrypted, proprietary, LexTech Satellite Phone. Five minutes later, he had been assured that Mark Scheffer, AKA the Metahuman Assassin Shrapnel, was on his way over to First Metropolitan from his safehouse in Hobs Bay. Soon, they would know more about what this New Alien could do.

Knowledge was power, after all. . .

XXXX

AN: All right, I wanted to get this one out quickly, since I had it percolating for a while. Yes, this does mean that Mercy Graves is a thing a lot earlier than she would have been in Post-Crisis Canon, but that's only thanks to how the Comics were slow to adapt characters from the DCAU in Post-Crisis Continuity. While I will be using her character from the comics, in that Mercy is an Exiled Amazon of Bana-Mighdall, I never intended to wait very long to introduce her. Expect the Joker to be with Harley Quinn as his Number Two when he shows up for similar reasons.

At any rate, the next chapter will involve Rugulo facing off against Mark Sheffer, the literal edgelord known as Shrapnel. Seriously, the dude is a person whose body was transformed into sentient razor blades and who enjoys murder. He's a literal and figurative edgelord.

Stay tuned. . .