Post by markymark261 on May 24, 2011 12:44:59 GMT -5
Titans Resistance
Issue #50: "The End and the Aftermath"
Story by Jay McIntyre
Art by Zeb Francis
Edited by Mark Bowers
"Peace is not merely a distant goal that we seek, but a means by which we arrive at that goal."
Martin Luther King, Jr.
"Clouds and darkness surround us, yet Heaven is just, and the day of triumph will surely come, when justice and truth will be vindicated."
Mary Todd Lincoln
-1-
Mother and daughter were inches away from each other.
With a gesture, they canceled each other's powers out. That left Geo-Force free, but Ravager and Robin were instantly there in his face.
Petra nodded grimly, understanding the situation, and advanced on her daughter.
Unarmed combat training was part of their upbringing. First of all it was physical fitness, good for any ruler; second of all, their forebears had foreseen a day when someone could get past their powers. A gun was not enough of an answer to that. Nor a sword. They were trained in those as well, of course. Every contingency covered. At least, that was the plan.
At the age of six, all Markovian noble children were shown all known fighting styles and asked to choose two. They then trained in those two styles, all through their lives, until they were old and frail.
As a child, Tara had chosen Pankration, which went all the way back to the Spartans; and Tinku, a crouching, dancing style from South America. Her mother preferred Kuta, the ancient Egyptian version of boxing, and Savate, from France. All of which meant Tara was more of a grappler, and Arianna was more of a striker.
Each of them knew this full well about the other, of course.
Arianna came in with a double-fisted strike. Unscientific, but neither of them was concerned about form. Tara batted her mother's hands up and away, and tried to go for a choke hold. Arianna kicked her and backed off.
Behind Arianna, Brion hurled lava at Robin and Ravager. They dodged, dived, and came back in again.
Arianna came in with a straight right. Tara grabbed her arm and wrenched it, meaning to break it. Arianna yanked the arm free, but this enabled Tara to come in and get her mother in a headlock. The Empress again tried to break free. When that failed, she pummeled Tara in the ribs. Finally, reluctantly, Tara released the vice-like grip she'd had on her mother's head, and stepped back.
Abruptly, she felt her mother's power fading away, and understood; her mother had decided that this would be better served as a battle of power, rather than hand-to-hand. And in truth, she agreed.
Face to face with her mother. Final battle. No holds barred. No surrender.
Her mother unleashed a crest of rock at her, like a tidal wave. She responded with a spear of rock that split the tide in two and kept going towards her mother. The Empress blocked, and raised her hands on high. All around Tara, the ground erupted in cruel fingers, meaning to crush her in a stone fist. Terra caused the fingers to explode into fragments, and hurled them at the Empress.
Petra in her turn swept the fragments aside. She called stone to herself, creating a suit of armor, then stomped towards Terra with deadly intent.
Terra could have matched her, armor for armor and strength for strength, but they'd already tried the physical contest, and Tara would rather stay focused on her powers. Mother doubtless believed she was superior in that due to her experience, and Terra was counting on that overconfidence.
This being so, she made a massive fist of stone and threw it at the Empress. Petra's armor shattered, and she fell back, stunned. Terra brought in two massive rocks from the side, meaning to smash her between them and finish her, but Petra frantically, almost instinctively, put up her hands to block. The rocks hovered mere inches from her. The two fought and strained against each other, power against power. Their comparative power levels had never been measured, but in the history of their bloodline, powers of the Royal Family were always comparable. Certainly their last battle had not indicated a superior strength level for either of them.
So they sweated, and fought, and strained. Sweat broke out on Terra's brow. Petra gritted her teeth and made a frustrated noise.
Then Petra gasped, and the rocks slammed inwards.
Terra was both elated and puzzled. She had felt mother's power give way, yes. But why? She had not faltered. Petra had been even more surprised, going by her expression.
Then the rocks fell away, and Terra understood.
Now she gasped.
Geo-Force stood behind their mother. Looking sadly down at her.
Quietly wiping his personal dagger off.
Terra whipped her head around; nobody else had seen.
So she locked eyes with her brother, and mouthed one word: Why?
"For the good of the Empire," Brion said in a low voice. "For its survival."
Terra nodded slowly. And she understood. Brion had always been the quiet, rational one in the family, part of his training, before he replaced her as heir. He had almost certainly realized what was wrong with the Empire before she did. But unlike her, he was still loyal to it.
So he did what he had to, to save it.
He put his blade away and dropped to his knees. "Mother, no!" he said, loud enough for some of his own soldiers to hear. They turned, and saw.
Then he called for his forces to hold.
Terra did the same.
Shortly, everyone saw.....and those that did not see, were told by those who did.
The Empress was dead.
The Markovian forces wanted to lash out in anger. But if they did, they would be disorganized, unfocused. Their commanding officers knew it; Brion certainly did.
The Resistance forces, particularly the Justice Society, wanted to tear them apart. But they held their ground, glaring.
Brion, crying honest tears, carried the Empress's body away, and his forces followed him.
-2-
The Imperial Navy had taken heavy losses, but the American fleet had lost too many ships. Three Markovian vessels sailed past the burning hulks and landed at Manhattan. Markovian marines rushed out, American soldiers rose to meet them, backed by police and ordinary citizens armed with guns; volunteer militia.
Bruce's robots waded in. They had already used up their missiles, but they had no problem tearing the Markovians apart with brute force.
For perhaps twenty minutes this went on; at first, the Markovians went down easily, the rate of attrition being five Markovian deaths for every American casualty. But then more ships plowed through, dispatching their troops. The attrition rate dropped to 4 to 1...then 3....one of Bruce's robots went down and exploded.
Then the word came.
The Empress is dead. Prince Brion--no, Emperor Brion--retreating.
For a few minutes the Markovians were at a loss, and the Americans, not yet knowing the truth--though Bruce had heard, and was punching the air--tore into them, boarded one of their ships, and set it afire.
Then the Markovians began to retreat back to their ships, and their ships began backing out and turning around. A few Markovian officers committed suicide by sword or bayonet.
The Americans still did not know the truth, as the Markovians retreated from the few streets they'd entered and piled back onto their ships. The Americans gunned down and killed those they could. Some Markovians fought back as they fled, but most simply retreated. Those that weren't committing suicide, that is.
Even as the Markovian ships retreated, the scattered American naval forces regrouped and fired on them. One of the last casualties was General Rokoshnev, leader of the expedition. A cannon shot struck him as his ship retreated last of all, covering the escape of the others. Some of the admirals didn't like having a general over them, but orders were orders. And certainly they did not want to see him fall. But fall he did.
The American Navy pursued the Markovians some twenty miles from the coast, then held firm, waiting to see if the Markovians would try another attack.
But it was no ruse, and gradually the news filtered through the American forces. The Empress had fallen, Markovia in disarray, retreating almost everywhere.
The free world rose and shouted its triumph.
-3-
Five Years Later...
Chicago
Tara sat quietly, in a well-lit apartment on the sixty-fifth floor of one of the Windy City's newest towers.
Peace.
She never thought she'd live to see a world like this.
Not a perfect world, no. There was still poverty and adversity and crime and fear and banality and the age-old curse of mortality, but it was a much better world. A much brighter world.
Brion had become Emperor, of course. Taking Mother's body back for burial. He had recognized that the Empire had overreached itself, and withdrawn its borders considerably. Now it only controlled Eastern Europe, Africa, the ancient kingdom of Persia, and some pacific island holdings. He had also instituted a number of democratic reforms, empowering the Parliament, limiting the depth and breadth of his own powers as Emperor, offering full citizenship rights to non-Markovians.
Many Markovian nobles had objected to this, of course. Violently. There had been four assassination attempts, that the rest of the world knew of, and two coup attempts, the last of which had resulted in the death of Duke Gregor and Duchess Soriana Markov, the next in line for the throne. They had--or to be more accurate, Duchess Soriana had--led that second coup attempt.
Tara had spoken to her brother twice over the intervening years, over secure phone lines. There was no question of her ever coming back--technically she was still under death sentence for her betrayal--and that was just fine with her. But they had spoken as siblings who still cared about each other, however difficult and awkward that relationship might have become.
And it was Geo-Force, in the end, who had killed their mother. Tara was still mildly amazed by that, even after all this time, though she supposed she understood his reasons. He was, after all, still fiercely loyal to the Empire, and always would be. It was just that his vision of the Empire was very different from that of their mother or their ancestors.
Now the main threat from the Empire was the space race, as Markovia was still competing with America--and the recovering Japan--to establish permanent bases on the moon and Mars, and to send robotic probes to the nearest star system, Centauri.
Tara smiled. She had been much further than that already, of course.....
-4-
Tamaran
Princess Koriand'r was back at home.
Tamaran was free. Liberated. Her family once more in control. Her traitor sister defeated.
Even after all this time, she still couldn't believe Komand'r had betrayed them for her own ambition. Not that such things had never happened before in the history of Tamaran, of course, but to serve the Citadel? What was the point? Better to have schemed to take over from within, than to bow to aliens.
But not all aliens were to be despised; she had learned that much. Those "Titans" from Earth, with a little help from the Green Lantern Corps, had assisted her in liberating the planet from the Citadel. They had gone on to smash the Citadel entirely, but she was content to secure her home from invaders.
That was some time ago, now. She didn't see any of them anymore, except occasionally the Kryptonian, and the one Green Lantern who was actually a member of the group.
But she still honored them, and was grateful to them.
Perhaps she would return to Earth one day.
Perhaps.
But for now, there were duties to perform.
-5-
Emperor Brion Markov, Geo-Force, sat on his throne.
He was tired. Lord, he was so tired.
He had made peace with the churches, withdrawn Markovian forces from much of the world, instituted many reforms.
But it had come at such a price.
The world knew of four assassination attempts and two coup attempts; in truth, there had been nine attempted assassinations and three attempted coups. And his spy network had just uncovered plans for a fourth coup attempt...by their own department head. He sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
Some of this was simple grabs for power, but most of them believed he had betrayed the Empire, and wanted it to return to its conquering ways. He sighed. They just didn't understand; had he and Petra slain Terra that day, it would have changed nothing. Brion had read the histories just as Tara had; he knew that all Empires fell eventually. Then there was always the chance that Tara would have destroyed mother on her own, leaving him to fight his sister. Or make the same choice he already had done, really.
There were times when he considered if he had moved too quickly in the wake of Mother's....death. Indeed, perhaps he just should have signed an armistice with all countries and sworn not to expand during his lifetime. But no; he had to make sure that his eventual successor would not simply restart the trend. He had to tear down the evil that had been built.
And there were times when he wished he had disbanded the monarchy entirely, and with his last act as ruler, turned Markovia into a republic. Indeed, some in the newly-empowered Parliament were calling for that. But tempting as it was, it was far too soon for that. One day, perhaps. Not yet.
So he had quietly married a woman descended from dispossessed French nobility--another scandalous event--and she was pregnant now. Twins, apparently; that settled the matter of 'heir and spare'. They might squabble over the throne, as it was chance as to which would be born first, but Brion would decide his heir based on merit, not birth order. He and his wife might even have another child, just in case. He was not looking forward to fatherhood, but he considered it a necessity. His duty.
Duty weighed heavy on him.
He had not enjoyed Arianna's death. Not remotely. But he knew it had to be done.
It was space exploration and colonization he looked to now; ironically, that was the one thing he and their late mother had agreed on.
-6-
Krypton
Kai-Al, whom the Titans had known as Supergirl, had assisted the Titans and Starfire in liberating the Tamaranean's homeworld after the Markovians had been defeated, and stayed with the Titans for a year and four months after that; then returned to Krypton. She had returned to Earth several times, noting with both interest and worry their space exploration programs. Deriven still argued with her about the nature of reality. However infuriating she might find him, she was willing to consider letting him come to Krypton to talk about 'magical' energy.
She had also sought out the Cult of Rao he had spoken of. They were terrified. And while she thought them fools, she did not betray their secret.
She had come back to the silver spires of home with new eyes, certainly. But she was not here that often, something that still outraged her elders. She had gone to many planets, but spent most of her time with the Green Lantern Corps. While never becoming a member, she found their resources and data invaluable. Eric, Alan and other Corps members had told her, many times, that they would love to see a Kryptonian in the Corps. But she did not feel she herself was the one; and did not think that most Kryptonians would be interested, either. Perhaps one of the members of the Cult of Rao would consider it.
But she was home today, meeting with Kal, son of the house of El. He was a bright man, if a tad boring to her. While he was older than her by a few years, he seemed younger. Boyish, almost, in the terms of her people. Abruptly, he realized this was due to his lack of experience. Many of the less-traveled elders were similar, though it was not so obvious with them.
"You have been to many planets?" he said to her.
"Quite a few, but not as many as I would like," she answered. "Sol III was the first."
"Earth? I have studied your reports. Perhaps I will visit there one day," he said brightly.
"Perhaps," she allowed. "It takes quite a period of adjustment."
He nodded. "Yes, your reports were extensive. You've really started something, you know."
She allowed herself a small smile. "Yes, so they tell me."
Indeed, Kryptonian society had changed due to her actions. How much, and how long that change would last, only time would tell. She was no sociologist with cultural prediction models. She knew only one thing; her people had become far too stagnant. Perhaps she had helped to fix that.
-7-
The Justice Society had thrown off their cover of secrecy and expanded, forming new chapters in as many countries as they could. The stated reason was to ensure against a Markovian resurgence. But the truth was that now that the Markovians had been beaten back, other threats were coming to the fore, from powered metahumans to crime lords, smaller petty dictators hoping to make a name for themselves, to ordinary thugs. The Society had always been warriors for justice; now, they were keepers of the peace. The girl with red wings, Carrie, had joined the main group; they tried to keep in contact with her former mentor, the Martian; but he was only occasionally seen in Africa or Australia when it suited him.
Alan was happy. He had not left the Corps, but he only went when they called. When possible, he deferred such things to Eric. Except for one thing; recruiting a new human Green Lantern.
The choice had come to them from a....most unusual source, the Pirate Queen of all people. But the ring had shown her choice to be without fear; and the new President, Badnarik's former Vice President, had given approval as well. All that remained was for the young man himself to decide, and he had.
"Grant Wilson," Alan said, "take this ring and battery, charge the ring, and recite the oath."
"In brightest day," Grant recited, "in blackest night, no evil shall escape my sight. Let those who worship evil's might, beware my power; Green Lantern's Light!"
-8-
Ravager stood upon her deck, smiling.
She and Anarky had participated in the liberation of Tamaran, much to Wintergreen's frustration and worry, then returned home. For Ravager, her Titans membership ended in that moment. She still liked Tara as a friend, but they hardly saw each other anymore; and nowadays she attacked America and other recovering nations as much as the Markovians, since the Markovians had so reduced themselves.
Anarky was here with her now, below decks. But sometimes he was not; often he returned to Gotham to attack the government, sometimes clashing with Batman when he did. Sometimes to other American cities. Sometimes to what remained of Markovia to stir republic-style sentiments and to sabotage what remained of the Imperial infrastructure.
Wintergreen was starting to show his age now, and wanted to retire, but first he wanted Rose to have children, to ensure her line would still rule the pirates. While Rose was not against this idea, neither was she committed to it. She did hope to have children one day, and treat them better than her father had treated her or her brothers. And if such a child became the ruler of the pirates, so be it. But if not, that was okay too. The Pirates were not a hereditary monarchy of any sort, and for all Rose cared, could become a republic if they liked. Certainly Anarky would like that. He still clung to his silly idealism, even now.
Twice now, Ravager had clashed with local Justice Society chapters, trying to stop her acts of piracy. That worried her, a little. Surely word had gotten back to both the Titans and the main Justice Society group. They might meet as enemies, one day.
Rose did not want that. Especially not with Tara, but really not with any of them. But whatever would be, would be.
She slipped below decks to find Anarky.
-9-
Tara looked out of the window and smiled, softly.
The Titans team was based in Chicago now. They kept their profile relatively low, letting the resurgent Justice Society take most of the credit. But they were still active, themselves, in keeping the world safe.
In the years of the Markovian Retreat, as it was now called, the HIVE had stepped up to challenge the world, and many other villains had come crawling out of the woodwork. Some of them were ex-Markovian metas, now out of work.
On the other hand, a group called the Doom Patrol had arisen, and were doing their own part to help deal with the stranger elements now at play. They liaised with Deriven often. Deriven also often liaised with Jason's vampire hunters.
The team now was Terra, Robin, Argent, Deriven, Anima, Green Lantern, and Don-Na, the acolyte of Wonder Woman. They called her Troia, as far as the public was concerned. All the Titans had rooms here in this skyscraper, and the team headquarters proper was on the floors above that. They took a high speed elevator down to the basement, and from there they had access to a disused subway tunnel refurbished for their private use, from which they could exit out into the Chicago Sanitary and Ship Canal.
All of it was financed by Wayne Industries, of course.
The world knew the Titans were based in town, but not exactly where. And, again, they let the Justice Society take most of the credit. But certainly there were a few people--Markovian militants for one, and HIVE agents for another--that would like nothing better than to take them down.
In the case of the HIVE, particularly, there was concern that they might just bomb the city to take them out. But the Titans had stopped two bomb plots of theirs in the last three years, and the Justice Society another one. Against any more high-profile type of nuclear attack, the American Republic's own high-tech missile defense system served nicely.
But today was a quiet day, no immediate threats, and that was good. Tara was waiting for Tim to come back.
She had something to tell him.
-10-
Gotham
Bruce was old, but he was at peace. The pain in his ribs and legs meant he was done, now. But that was all right. The world had taken a better turn than he had dared to hope.
Dick was now into his own as Batman, and Tim had become a great man as Robin. If anything, he had matured faster than Dick had, being out in the field so often.
They had discussed it some; Tim would always be there if needed, of course. But the Titans--and Tara--were clearly his first priority now. That was fine, but it also meant that they should look for a new apprentice.
It was actually the Titans that had found her. A girl in a Metropolis foundry, working with a sledgehammer in memory of her father, but also an excellent hacker. The Titans had considered her for membership, but she was still raw and untested. Dick and Bruce had agreed to take her on. She would never call herself Robin, but she was a force to be reckoned with in her own right, in her self-made armor (that Bruce and Dick had modified and upgraded, of course), wielding that sledgehammer. She wasn't ready yet, but would be soon.
Batman and Steel. It had a nice ring to it.
-11-
For the Flash, things had changed the least. With the Markovians gone, he was able to focus on the Twin Cities to the exclusion of all else, just as he wanted.
There was no love lost between him and the Titans, but they worked together as needed. There were several chapters of the Justice Society in the Republic, but none of them here. The Society had respected Flash's wishes in this, but they had also either divined why he wished it so, or the Titans had told them. Either way, there was sneering disdain in the Society chapters' members when they met him, and muttering complaints of him being as bad as the villains he fought.
He didn't care. So long as they stayed out of his way, they could think whatever they wanted.
As he chased down another thug and broke his back in two places, he reflected it would be a bad thing for them--or the Titans--if they ever did get in his way.
-12-
Moscow
The Russian Monarchy had not found its return to power unopposed. Many of their allies against the Markovians had made it clear that they did not want to replace one tyrant with another.
So much against her own wishes, and with more than a little irony, Princess Anastasia had found herself adopting the same sort of constitutional monarchy that the Markovians had turned to, giving much power to a three-chamber legislature.
As the country was rebuilt, formal treaties had been signed with Markovia. Many had not liked that, and Anastasia herself had no love for King Brion, unlike his much-more-charming sister. But he was a pragmatist who did what needed to be done, and she respected that.
Leonid was not her official consort. Unofficially, they were trying very hard to produce heirs. Unlike Brion, Anastasia did not want to entertain the idea of handing her kingdom away, now that she had finally regained it.
And she would never regain all of it. Not only the various small nations between her and Markovia like Belarus and Ukraine (which, she had to admit, were useful as buffers between them), but also the Kola peninsula had become its own Nordic Confederacy, and some of the pacific rim had declared itself to be separately independent. To say nothing of the Chinese. She had not the resources to force the issue; instead, she had to be grateful to keep what she could.
But, she had to admit, things were much better now, than they had been.
Sometimes she talked to Tara in secured communication. Her input had been invaluable in her negotiations with Brion. The two of them were more alike than either would ever have guessed.
Even now, that thought made her smile a little.
-13-
Tara turned from the window as the door opened. Tim came in, a bag of groceries under each arm. He didn't have to do such things, even as part of his secret identity; but he had said that he had enjoyed such things, even from his earliest days of training in Gotham.
He called hello, then went into their own small but well-appointed kitchen.
She followed him in, waited for him to put the bags down, and spoke the words that filled her heart.
"Tim," Tara took a breath, "I'm pregnant."
They embraced.
-14-
My name is Tara Markov.
The world is free.
If you wish to comment on this issue, please CLICK HERE to visit the letters page.