Outer Space
October 1, 13:04.
Partly in an effort to play the part of a literal shield against the worst the universe could offer, SHIELD's main headquarters ended up being a space station, just like the JL's Watchtower.
And like most of the large scale construction projects under my purview, it didn't take even three months for the platform to be complete and up and running. As for the name, I just went with Shield Space Station, or Shield Headquarters.
No need to overcomplicate things.
Through liberal use of magic and tech, the platform could house over 100,000 people with problems as to space, comfort, and sustenance. Power generation was such a nothing burger and so was safety. By liberal, I meant exactly that.
Judging from what I'd gleaned about the Omega Effect in the nuggets the Guardians so graciously passed on, it would be the wielder's use of them to actually penetrate the hull of the platform and do any meaningful damage.
Pure, controlled entropy was bullshit like that.
On to the matter at hand, I stood within the bridge at the spot reserved for the director, staring off into the void with my arms behind me. My second in command, Agent Lyla Michaels, stood a bit further behind while she brought me up to speed on ongoing missions and other relevant info.
"Updates on the Roulette sting?" I asked.
"Campbell and Zaya got in successfully. Jones is playing captive metahuman to perfection. Roulette doesn't suspect a thing."
"And her people on the outside?"
"The F.B.I. is preparing to round them up as we speak. All they need is the green light from the boys inside."
"And how long will the boys in blue wait?"
"End of day at most sir."
"Hmm…" That seemed reasonable. Considering the scale of what we were dealing with. Veronica Sinclair, a.k.a. Roulette, had gotten her hands on dimensional technology from an unknown source and turned into a highly profitable cash cow.
That much was expected. What with the ability to teleport and create hidden and life sustaining inescapable pocket dimensions of variable size. Anyone who remained poor with such means on hand deserved nothing less.
Now you'd think that a normal person would offer some sort of delivery or transportation services to people who were willing to pay obscene amounts of money to get across the world with no one the wiser.
Or maybe, if they had a little criminal bent, they'd rob banks or some other shit. Hell, that's what I would do if I had nothing else. Though I'd probably steal from crime families and criminals.
That aside, guess what Roulette chose to do with the space bending tools she gained access to.
Organ and human trafficking. Metahuman trafficking to be precise.
At this point, any rational person would begin to wonder if it was some kind fetish or proclivity or if selling people with powers was that lucrative. Fact is, they were. Unfortunately.
However, Roulette wasn't just treating her fellow humans like a hot commodity, she took further advantage of the means of control she had to pit her captives against each other.
A metahuman fight club, one whose streams earned her more money than the sales of her captives several times over. Us humans never failed to disappoint. Truly.
We didn't know exactly how long Roulette had had this "hustle" of hers running, but it had been active for over a year, and the only reason we caught wind of it now was due to an investigation being run by the feds.
After years of helping them close all metahuman cases they brought to us with zero casualties and unusual speed, the various law enforcement organisations stopped dragging their feet in bringing us onboard when they encountered the weird and the batshit.
No one wanted to end up in a situation where they unleashed a full mag of NATO rounds into a guy or gal that ate everything and walked right up to them.
This would have been the case for the feds if they had even managed to breach Roulette's dimension since she had metahumans on her payroll. Unlike the Marvel universe with mutants, there wasn't much solidarity with metahumans here.
They weren't acknowledged by themselves or the powers that be as another race. So that was a plus… I guess.
Anyway, the team inside Roulette's nest had two jobs: wait till the entire dimension had been mapped out and then take down Roulette. Campbell and Zaya had replaced two of the boss woman's guards.
Their mere presence there gave the tech guys an in to scan the place and root out how the dimension worked, the control device, and any possible escape routes.
Jones' job was to entertain the woman and the crowd. Everyone had heard of Killer Croc, but in the public eye, he'd disappeared over four years ago. Staging a sighting and luring Roulette's slave catchers wasn't hard.
When the time came for them to move, he would deal with the metahuman elements within Roulette's organisation and help subdue the woman herself.
There would be many other things to deal with, such as the captives who no longer had homes to return to and the retrieval and rescue of those that had been sold. But that was a headache for future me so I left things here and moved on.
"What are the twins up to?"
"Tommy's last update came from Gorilla City. Apparently, there is a dispute about who should be king and he's keeping things civil."
I nearly let out a laugh. If anyone had changed the most within these five years, it had to be him. Considering that everyone who knew him—including himself—called his teenage self brainless more than a few times, there was no argument there.
"Tuppence is in Rio following up on the potential recruit. She's made contact, but the target harbors suspicions and refuses to speak about her powers."
Hm, that was expected. Beatriz Bonzilla da Costa used to be a secret agent for her country's government.
Any random person would have their guard up if they were approached right after they got powers, much less someone whose job description revolved around spying on people and terminating them if they proved too dangerous.
"Any advice sir?"
"Tell Tuppence to let her friend know that she can have a talk with me if she wants."
"Sir?"
"I believe Miss da Costa will be more open to hearing from the one at the head of everything."
"I will update Agent Terror as soon as possible."
That name still sounds terrible.
"Last on the agenda?"
"The Goode Goggles sir. You wanted them sabotaged."
No. I want them all disintegrated along with that wretched old woman. But I can't do that or else I'll alert Apokolips that I'm unto their latest ploy and I can't have that.
"Have you identified the factories where they're being produced?"
"Yes sir. All thirty of them. We're awaiting your orders."
"How many teams?"
"Ten teams of two. Level seven agents with full stealth loadouts. Each has been assigned three factories."
I nodded.
"Time estimates."
"Less than an hour for them to get in and out."
"And Gretchen?"
"We have teams watching her every move. She hasn't left her mansion in three days."
"Good. Give the order to move in at nightfall. Impress upon the agents the need for absolute secrecy."
"Will do, sir."
"Alright, that will be all. I'll be in my office."
I quickly vacated the bridge after that.
Soon, I sat behind my desk, my very large desk, examining two large window sized… windows side by side.
On the left, I had the end result of reading through and digesting the information on the Omega Sanction and on the right, an image of Apokolips, a good chunk of the planet covered in films of blue light.
The Oriole Drones were more formidable than ever with regards to their undetectability.
After the second Apokoliptian attempt on my life, I'd sent millions of them into the Subspace around the planet, mapping it out and single handedly performing reconnaissance for an attack I had planned.
In order not to alert anyone or trip any alarms, the progress of the drones had been slowed and their scans dialed down to non-invasive. It had taken literal years but I was close to knowing that pit of agony and depravity like the back of my hand.
I kept clear of the palace and its environs. However, knowing its location was enough for what I wanted to do. It's not like Darkseid would ever mingle with the lowlies or ever "grace" them with his presence.
Once I had every nook and cranny mapped and recorded, a battle plan would come next and after that, well, it'd be putting guns in hands, marshaling the men, and bringing in allies.
After all, I was declaring war.
.
.
.
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Happy Harbor
October 2, 11:40
Maybe I could've presented things in a more palatable way after I asked the Justice League members for an urgent, impromptu meeting. Anything, practically anything else would be better than "Hey, I'm planning an attack on Apokolips, you guys want in?"
But, we were here now, so the shocked and agitated members of the world's premier superhero team would have to deal with it. Besides, it's not like what I said wasn't the truth.
I had a fully prepared battle plan. The only reason I hadn't launched the offensive right this moment was because of them and the possible support they could provide. If anything could make the plan much more foolproof, it was more skilled and superpowered hands.
"Elliot, I'm not sure I'm hearing this right," said Superman with his forehead creased and eyes narrowed. "You're waging on a planet, and you want us… to help you."
"Yep. That about sums it up. Though bear in mind the planet in this case is Apokolips."
"Don't worry. We got that part," said Icon.
Flash seemed to be freaking out. "You guys know how insane this sounds right? We're the Justice League. We're superheroes. We don't wage wars."
Uh, not where I'm from. Not according to Justice League War.
"Technically, I am waging the war. My target is Darkseid. You guys are the backup."
Flash threw his arms up.
Superman looked like he'd just watched a viral video of himself going Homelander on someone.
Wonder Woman, well, she looked contemplative. That was a plus. I'll take it.
"How many humans do you think have died there, on Apokolips?"
"What?" That got the attention of the room.
"Hundreds? Thousands? I tried to find out, you know? I located Granny Goodness' orphanage during my recon and let me tell you, a good number of her furies are human girls. They were all kidnapped at a young age, whisked over to that godforsaken planet, and given the harshest training and upbringing imaginable. Those who don't make the cut are thrown into the firepits dotting the planet. Granny Goodness has had her orphanage long before many of us were born. Out of every hundred furies she trains, thirty percent of them are humans. Less than five percent of those survive and become New Gods. Now, I'm going to ask you again. How many little girls do you think washed out?"
Silence.
I let it sit for a bit before continuing. "Horrifying isn't it? And the woman responsible for those atrocities is here on Earth, and you've seen the packets I sent. She's preparing to obtain more soldiers for her lord's army while we sit here and twiddle our thumbs debating the labels we put on the things we do. Being a superhero, waging war on the tyrannical regime whose home base can be compared to hell… it's all the same thing; saving and protecting people. That's what we do. That's all this is about. So if you're content to wait for the enemy till they're at your doorstep, then be my guest. That's just not me."
A couple of sighs rang throughout the room as the leaguers shared looks among each other. I waited till they finished. Flash and Superman were the first to speak.
"What exactly do you expect from us if we agree to help you?"
"Well, there will be no killing of innocent civilians, so let's just get that out of that way. The battle plan is two fold. There will be multiple teams of my agents spread all over the planet. Their role is to get every lowlie out."
"Lowlie?" asked Superman.
"The general term for the," I made air quotes. "-spoils of war after Darkseid and his servants decimate and/or enslave a planet."
Looks of discomfort and confusion met my explanation.
"People. Its people. Millions of them. Taken from their planet and dumped on Apokolips for no other reason than to suffer. Seriously. The Apokoliptians are self-sufficient. Their technology is advanced enough that they have no resource or manpower issues. The fact that they keep all those people just to lord over them and make their lives a living hell is proof that it's pure sadism."
"So they give them food, water, and places to stay just so they can make them suffer?"
"Ohh, my good man," I answered Flash's question. "You aren't thinking tyrannically enough. What food, what water, and what shelter are you talking about? I'm pretty certain most of the people there have eaten more rats than there are in a New York city household."
"Alright we get it, Apokolips bad."
"You see that's just it. I don't think you do. These guys aren't just some common criminals who opened and drank seven beers even though they had no money to pay. They are the kind of the bad that have turned more than enough planets and everyone who lived on them to ash. So many in fact that most of the worlds they set their sights on don't resist anymore. So please, treat this with as much seriousness as you would if someone threatened your child."
"..."
Superman stepped in here. "Alright, enough. You were explaining what you wanted from us."
"Yes. Like I said, you guys are back up. You'll help me face Darkseid while the agents and others evacuate every lowlie off the planet."
"Others?" "Off the planet?"
"I'll be asking the team and maybe the Guardians for help. The more capable hands I have on my side, the more confident I am that we can pull this off."
"And what happens if we fail?"
"We won't. Worst case scenario, we get the people out and we leave Darkseid undecapitated."
"How are you so sure?"
"Because once there are no more innocents on the planet, I will make sure there is no more planet."
Atom choked out a disbelieving chuckle, looking around the table for support. He didn't find it. Everyone's expression had grown stony and disbelieving.
"You…"
"Yes. I'm going to blow up the planet. And none of you can stop me. So don't even think about it. What you can do however, is ensure that there are no innocents left behind when it eventually goes boom."
I checked my internal watch and stepped out from behind the seat I didn't use this whole meeting.
"You have two days to think about it. I'm off," I waved them and went for a Zeta-Tube.
Time to go see the team.