Hope is Kindled

On Earth-27 Nikita has her own off-site apartment provided by the D.E.O. And several days after these events, Jeremiah stop by Nikita's place at J'onn's behest to learn if Nikita is ticked at J'onn for a falling out and what the heck even happened in the first place. Twenty minutes of exposition follow explaining the avoidable, if understandable missteps that cropped up at the D.E.O over the past 11 years, a lot of which played out, or RE-played out under her roof the last time she saw the Green Martian to whom she was beholden and with whom she was 'attuned'. Green and White Martins are thier own equivalent of what would happen if Isaac and Ishmael took thier people along such divergent paths that they became two separate races instead simply having 2 separate religions...And still pretty much hated each-other's guts. After explaining all of these things Nikita looks Jeremiah straight in the eye and says.

“Believe me, I know where he was coming from. But from my perspective he was still judging someone for their race and their looks instead of on their own merits, instead of seeing the individual before them for who they really were. Or even bothering to look. When we first met J'onn I could tell the kind of person he was, regardless of which breed of Martian he was, or that he was one. My inherent tendency worked to J'onn's advantage then. I simply extended the same courtesy, or rather proclivity and consideration to my guest. And that's the other thing. I ended up kicking J'onn out of my apartment, I flat out told him to leave because the alien he was so intent to drag away to prison was a guest under my roof and my responsibility. One thing that has been true for the last 27 years is that no one with a brain in their skull insults a friend on mine in my house.”

 THIS STORY IS NOT COMPLETE. And I'm still not sure where to go.

“Please leave me be.” I told the man as he entered the room with a plate of food. “I just want to rest, I promise.” He smiled sadly at me. I felt something from him. He was strange, in a good way. He was more concerned for me as a victim than as a street person. He was afraid something had actually happened to me. Either that or he was worried he personally scared me and that thought troubled him. “I don't want to be a Kleese...a burden. I just need a minute.”

“You're either from the Middle East or another planet.” he said with a smile.

“My home planet is called Xa-Valla. But I've learned English as a second language. I just use it differently than most, because our language was formed and based more on image and emotion. Finding the right word rather than an accurate word is what mattered to us. Well English has hard constructs and concrete ideas. Ours is more fluid...transitional.”

“How long have you been here, and please, eat something.”

I picked up the turkey sandwich he had made and started eating it. I got halfway through the sandwich before I spoke again. “On Earth, 48 years. But I've spent more time in the Himalayas and the East coast of Africa than I have in Chicago or the Andes.”

“You know this isn't an interrogation, right? I'm trying to learn about you to help you.”

“One thing you'll pretty quickly learn about me is I see no reason for any beating around of the bush. My people are direct, plain-spoken unadorned and have absolutely no use for obfuscation unless sparing people's feelings are involved. That's probably not going to be so here, is it?”

“Well, that's true, but why are you so...sensitive to that then?”

“It's because my people are low-level empaths. I can sense your intentions and reactions. Whether you are concerned, suspicious, angered or scared of me, comes through as if you were broadcasting it. I don't read thoughts, I wouldn't if I HAD that power. I never saw...well why would subterfuge even work...seriously?”

“Okay that makes sense I guess.”

I couldn't understand what had made him so uncomfortable. “I'm sorry did I, misunderstand the source of your confusion? I know you are not scary. In fact if more humans were like you this world would be a much nicer place. I'm just 'weary, worn and sad'. It's a physical thing, not an emotional thing, me being this twitchy. Within 30 minutes I'm going to fall asleep. And you won't be able to wake me up for anything for the next five hours. I sleep for 5 hours every 36 hour cycle; it's just how my body works.”

“Then I should leave and let you get some sleep, as you say.”

I woke up in the medical bay. The man who'd found me was standing a few feet in front of me next to a thinner, pale skinned man with really short black hair and a calm, open expression on his face. “You're alright, you're safe.” The first man told me, trying to calm me down. "I imagine you have questions about where you are."

“I'm at the DEO, that much is obvious.” I answered placidly. “As long as it's closer to a barracks than a laboratory, I'm fine with it.”

“Uh, what?” The younger man said, intrigued more than upset.

“This is the med-bay right? Intake? I don't mind and I will not fight being locked away. As long as it's more in a prison than a laboratory. I just want to be tucked away from everyone. To be a little more blunt about it, I want to avoid...” I motioned around with my left hand.

“A more intense version of this room.” The youth-esque stranger finished for me.

“You've been here before, at the DEO I mean?” My benefactor asked of me.

“Almost 20 years ago now. My people live...I live simply but with joy. Dry, safe in the middle of freaking nowhere. It's what I've gotten used to. I honestly would not mind being left alone in a quiet corner of this place as long as I'm on my own and actually getting something done. Not like what... last time I had A-Lot of that but the rest was...Just please tell me I'm not a lab-rat okay? Hell you didn't even know I was an alien until now, what could be learned from studying my biology?

“Absolutely nothing.” The man called James said quickly. “You are here so we can learn *from you, not *about you, I promise. Do you remember your planet?”

“I spent the first third of my life so far back there. But my planet of origin is not my home. And aren't we ignoring a MAJOR part of getting to know each-other: learning all our names?”

“Mon'el.” The paler, young man told me, pressing his palm against the top of his chest.

“James Olsen.” The darker man said, extending his hand.

“That's exquisitely appropriate.” I said as I accepted the handshake. He looked at me as if I'd just splashed his face with ice water. “The Olsen part I mean. Olsean is a tree we have back home. I grew up in a desert region a lot like your American Southwest. Olsean is a desert plant, strong and solitary that withstands anything and never withers. But it is not 'straight tall and proud' like your great oak. It grows kind of sideways which allows for flora and fauna to flourish in its shade. As I said, it never withers. It could stand up to anything except maybe a jaguar to use the closest analogy. Anyway, the description of being strong and protective seems to fit you. Most people call me 'Sasha'. I find 'Nikita' is closer to the mark. But I answer to both equally.”

“Names are descriptions for your people not simply distinctions.” A third man said in a deep enough voice to sooth a jaguar of a savage beast, except it did not have that effect on me. I looked up at him and I KNOW my face turned to ash.

“Well, this explains it.” I said in a weak voice. “Why Olsan would be working with you is beyond me. But this explains his interest, and his reluctance. Come to get an answer to 'the last of your questions', go ahead. But I guran-tee you Olsan will get better answers simply by asking.”

I know my tone was as dark as a horror movie or a cemetery. I know because Mon'el looked very freaked out by my tone. I personally did NOT consider this an over-reaction.

"There is something I am not seeing." Mon'el said aloud.

"I take it you're no more from here than I am?" I told him. Mon'el simply nodded.

It's amazing, both of us pass, but you're not considered a Klesse. Is that because you're a warrior?"

Mon'el looked concerned. James looked confused. Henshaw looked stunned and hurt.

“Am I missing something here?” Olsen said slowly.

“No not really but...I think I AM.” I answered even more reluctantly. “You're different, aren't you?” the solider nodded once. “Last time I saw you it was in an interrogation room which you tore through like a tidal wave. You tried to pull my mind apart. And probably would have succeeded, and only to your detriment. But now you're...a duty bound warrior of honor. And more of a traditional warrior than a professional soldier. Restrained and proud, but not arrogant. What could...”

“You've...you were here before.” Mon'el said in a tight voice. You knew Henshaw?”

Hank Henshaw raised his hand with all five fingers bent inward. “My name...is J'onn Jo'nzz."

"A shape-shifter?" I inquired. J'onn nodded. “...You took his place. The DEO is different than before because you changed it. Well, whoever you are you have my admiration...and my gratitude.”

“Low level empath. Your use of language comes from not needing ways to show feelings. The adjectives and superlatives, what they convey, are implied...self-evident even...” He paused.

“...Which is why I use so many adjectives and superlatives when I talk. And why I almost never have the right keyword.” I finished. “Arabic makes more sense to me than English. English is my primary Earth language. Until left the DEO I sounded as native born American as anyone. Every thing else that I know, everything I've learned since then I learned in voluntary exile. Which has the ancillary benefit of my having lived more in 20 years than most people do in 70. And even if I'm not fluent, I understand a hell of a lot of earth languages now...from experience rather than studying.”

 A model inmate at a prison for aliens is one of the few to have kind words of appreciation or respect for how Hank Henshaw ran things. He was misguided and single-minded but duty-bound. His regard for his code of honor and responsibity...in other words his inability to see past his own uniform was unfortunate for some but helped him recognize and appreciate her own dedication to her people and exception-less belief in honesty and honor. She wasn't a monster, like some people there but she was a criminal, so she absolutely deserved to be there. The only reason she's at the DEO not a regular prison is that her alien physiology is such they would accidently kill her. Table salt is an acid and the stuff they inject into unruly inmates would give her cardiac arrest. So she serves her time here...without issue and without complaint.

"He knew there were two responses to caging a beast: its broken or it gets angry. He understood that if you treat people like animals you're gonna get bit. But more than that, he knew that sometimes just the inability to move or to change was enough to break someone...or at least quiet them. I never gave him any trouble...so he never had to calm me down. What I knew, I shared. But unlike literally everyone else here, 'what I knew' was never a priority for him."

Anyway, she's explaining all this to the new director, J'onn J'onzz. Who after a few minutes asks her what crime she committed to get arrested in the first place, since apparently she was arrested not captured. Her face grows sad, she sits cross-legged on the floor. "I beat the hell out of a guy who turned out to be a cop."

"One of the main things presented in the case against me was that I had the disregard and the audacity to attack an officer of the law. And no offense but I'm starting to think your justice system is a little broken. If a person's status is such that it's a worse crime to rob them, or you get a more severe punishment for wronging them, shouldn't they bother telling you what they are? If I'd known, I would have pulled back. To me a cop is either in a dress uniform or...in a blue outfit with a badge on his chest. I never saw a uniform or his badge. Without explaining either my ignorance or my otherworldliness I couldn't tell them this, and I doubt people would have listened.  I mean, don't get me wrong, I beat the hell outta the guy, enough so that  he died from his injuries 3 weeks later, but I didn't decide to be a cop-killer like they presented of me...I DIDN'T KNOW!"

J'onn looks like he wants to say something, but decides against it. Instead he crouches down, eye-level with the complex riddle of a prisoner. "I am listening if you will keep talking." He says simply.

"It's been 11 years since I was sentenced. I keep my head down. I'll serve my time. Although I still am trying to figure out how the hell I killed the guy in the first place." Her voice went completely silent.  Almost entreatingly she looked up at J'onn J'onzz. "Am I the only one of my kind that you have on file? Can you check? The only thing I can think of for how someone of my build, size and weight to be able actually kill a cop, physically speaking, is if my people are just that much stronger than human beings."

   "And you didn't tell anyone?"

"No, And actually, maybe that's something that earned me a little admiration from Henshaw. that I would rather accept what happens and deal with it than try to change anyone's mind. Introducing the public to some strange human-looking visitor from another planet wasn't something he could hold with. It was actually in his mandate at the time to prevent that from happening. Aliens who look like aliens is one thing. But to prevent witch hunts and people turning on each-other for fear of 'infiltrators'...Either way, it was enough to show him I would rather go to prison and just deal with it than create mass panic or a scene. Maybe learning we had that much in common was enough to quiet his suspicions of me."

"I didn't know him very well, only saw his bad side..." Eloise raises an eyebrow. "I don't actually look like this. In my native form I look like a monster, and an imposing one even as far as monsters go. He saw me like that...and reacted accordingly."

"I...I won't say I apologize...but I do regret it."

"Thank you." J'onn said sincerely. "Anyway, if he didn't think he needed to hurt you, he wouldn't have wanted to. And I guess you're right: most prisoners here probably would want to tear *my* head off."

"...He knew." Elosie said suddenly. "That's why he never did anything to make me mad. He knew I was only capable of those things when I was ticked off...so he never did anything that might make me mad."

It occurs to Elosie out of nowhere that she's very nearly free. The charge was manslaughter not murder, and rightly so because it wasn't premeditated and she didn't have a weapon. She has served 11 years of a 15 year sentence and she only has 4 years left. And that's where the story leaves off. I'm left wondering as the author if the actual legal system does the 'taking days off for good behavior' thing for manslaughter? Because if they do, she was a model inmate for the last 7 of these 11 years and her sentence might actually be commutable, without any extenuating circumstances like her alien physiology, the law not being able to take her alien strength and her essentially being a foreign child despite looking old enough to buy alcohol without getting carded.

After she treated Henry Allen's wound without batting an eye at J'onn's green Martian-ness, J'onn challenges Eloise for lying about who she was; she can't be human either. She replies that genetically she's other than human, both her parents were Naltorians, but she was born on Earth, within the boundaries of the United States. And she wasn't 'hiding' being an alien at all. She then invited her guests to sleep on the couch and blankets in the living room and locks herself in her bedroom.

J'onn J'onzz: (Uncertainly) why do I get the feeling we just repaid kindness with betrayal?

Henry Allen: (sadly) Because that's exactly what we did.

J'onn J'onzz: Let me assure you that if it wasn't her decision to stay, it would be both arrogance and stupidity to try to keep her here. Also, since she's decided you're worth fighting for, I'd have to be either a fool or suicidal to try to threaten you.

...Elana is of a race that once they set thier mind to something, whether to make themselves rich at all costs or live as a beggar, they do that thing to the fullest. They are extremely single minded once they've made up thier mind. She is also of a race that can kick a Martian's ass if they want. So staying out of their way, or not getting in thier way, really is self-preservation.

After treating Henry's wound and not batting an eye at J'onn's green Martian-ness J'onn challenges Eloise in such a way that she locks herself in her bedroom.

J'onn J'onzz: (Uncertainly) why do I get the feeling we just repaid kindness with betrayal?

Henry Allen: (sadly) Because that's exactly what we did.

Superman visits the DEO for the first time since Henshaw's change of heart. He stops in his tracks when he sees Nikita, who is starring at the symbol on his chest. After exchanging pleasantries she goes back to her room.

Superman:(in an undertone) She's broken.

Henshaw: With respect, you don't know what she's been through, she's stronger than you think.

Superman: (with x-ray vision) No I mean literally her bones aren't old; they're bro-ken!

Henshaw: (looking like he's seen death) Dear GOD.

Saren: you honestly have no idea do you? You are so set in finding answers you don't even see why the question is wrong. When I tell you this is unneeded I mean it. But also it's fracking pointless. You keep asking me what my home planet was like, my home town is 500 miles from here. You want to know what I really look like well, I don't look like the rest of my kind but this is the real me.

The second most popular question you guys have for me is How I know what I do? my people are more advanced in the sciences than you, my mother was a biologist at the university. I'm not being reticent-stubborn-obtuse or defiant, I can't answer where I learned it because *I* never did. I have all of my peoples knowledge and my families memories and I remember what it ALL was like. I never learned any of it, it's all in my head. experiences started 26 years ago in Salida Colorado."

Henshaw: What your people have sufficiently advanced technology to have embedded learning programs? Your spaceship downloaded you with these files?"

Saren: Oh come off it. My mother's people have genetic memory. And as far as my human appearance, if I was entirely of my mothers people I would be a lot more of a freak of nature. If I was completely of her blood the high cheekbones I have would be turning the color of your oceans right now. I mean they would be sea-green. When the hair on the back of our neck stands on end, we stand ram-rod straight and bristle like iron. What your physicians read as an unknown condition like Arthritis is genetics. You missed it because it isn't pure. My father was human, my mother was from the stars. I'M NOT."

Agent Danvers: I really think we should get her out of here. And by that I mean let her go.

Director Henshaw: For once Jeremiah, you'll get no argument from me.

Agent Danvers: Wait, are you serious?

Hank Henshaw: Our mandate is to protect Earth from alien threats or invasion. She's an enigma, but she's not a threat. You will be the first to agree I really screwed up this time.

Agent Danvers: Yeah me too. I made the same assumption, and was just as wrong about –about to say 'everything' he stops himself– What was right in front of my face.

(Holding her hand 3 fingers and thumb straight, bending her pinkie Saren takes an oath )  Saren: Nesente E se-kya Nesta-Za ke. I just took my oath of silence. All I can do.

Agent Danvers: you must be from a kind and unique people.

Saren: Actually most of my people would probably want to beat the crap out of you right now. But whatever ELSE we are, we are not liars. Because of what is taken from the world, murder is a worse crime than lying. But in my culture calling someone a liar is a far worse insult than calling them a murderer.

Hank Henshaw: In other words you could promise to kill me with your bare hands or to spare my life, and those are equally likely, but either way I can take you at your word.

Saren: Yes, Exactly.

The mission referenced happened on Supergirl's Earth also; Nikita is an original character. The assumption of Mon'el's character is true to the CW's Supergirl as well. But here Kara has not yet donned a hero's outfit and so Superman is the DEO's closest alien ally; and made that same mistake.

“Dining on ashes J'onn?” Kal'el said floating a few feet above the balcony.

“That's a new one.” J'onn Jo'nzz said distractedly. "From you anyway."

“If the dark and slightly brooding look fits...and it seems to.” Kal'el landed at J'onn's left and walked over to him, smiling warmly.

“Well if it means chewing on the dry bones of your own stupidity, it does.”

“What's wrong J'onn? I know this doesn't mean as much as it should but I've never seen you like this.”

“Nikita compared me to Hank Henshaw.” The alien said miserably.

“You mean the military jerk who kept her prisoner for five years and tried to execute you on the spot? That'll do it.”

“Believe it or not Clark, that's not the problem. The trouble is...I think she was right.”

Kal'el of Krypton, or Clark Kent as he was known by most people on Earth, put his hand gently on J'onn's shoulder. “I'm here to listen if you want to talk.”

J'onn looked at his compatriot. “Not here. This place has more ears than I'd like to admit.”

“My father's place. 68.4 north Longitude, 77.2 West Latitude You'll need a heavy coat or thicker skin.”

It took a moment for J'onn to react to his friends invitation. And a minute longer to understand it. “Well Clark I appreciate it. I'm just not sure...I'll see you there.”

“Welcome to the Fortress of Solitude.” Kal'el said amiably when he crossed the threshold into his second home. It was quite a beautiful place, a crystalline ice palace On Baffin Island just West of Greenland in the Arctic Circle. J'onn resumed his human form as soon as he landed, which made Kal'el smile slightly. “You don't have to hide here J'onn. We hold your people no ill-will. Besides...it is considered more honest.”

“...Very well.” J'onn closed his eyes and his skin quickly changed from that of a human African American male to the lime green pallor of his own race. His legs grew, his chest shrank slightly and his head sloped backward as it grew a good 12 centimeters.

“Master Kal, I did not know we'd be receiving guests.” A mild voice said from the near-distance.

“Kalex, fabricate some Rhown wine for me and my guest to share and then leave us to ourselves.”

Two champagne flutes of a carbonated beige colored liquid materialized on the pedestal in front of them. “Privacy mode initiated.”

“That's convenient.” J'onn said mildly.

“I didn't think this would be something meant for other ears.” Clark hesitated a moment. “And I get the feeling I should feel honored you would share this with me.”

Kal picked up a flute of the drink, J'onn raised his in a toast. “Tsu freynt, alt aun nay.”

“ 'To Friends, old and new.' ” Kal translated automatically. “I didn't know you spoke Kryptonian.”

“It's an antidote to arrogance and a reminder of our humanness that we can still surprise each-other, the 4 of us.” J'onn said with a slight grin. “First I have to ask you if Nikita ever told you the story of how we met. Rather to what degree of detail she shared the story.”

“That Hank Henshaw took her and Jeremiah Danvers on a mission to execute a 'particularly dangerous alien' a description she and Jeremiah both laughed at until Hank told her it was a Martian they were going after. That she was ashamed of her mistake when she actually saw you.”

“Because unlike the human inhabitants of this world, she knew both Green and White Martians existed. Jeremiah Danvers and I held each other in high regard. Now that I know he's still alive, I can assume we still do. That was entirely due to the fact that Nikita trusted me without hesitation. For the past 4 years she and I have been working to make the DEO 'more like what it is today and less like what it was when I was first brought through its doors'. How many times have we heard her say that? And yet I never stopped to ask her, or even consider what it was like when she was brought into the DEO. I realize I'm telling a story in a very bad order here but...I just listened to a more detailed description of what Henshaw was really like pouring out of her mouth than what I've heard from anyone at the DEO since I arrived. And along with stories of why he's such a blind arrogant idiot and why she holds Jeremiah in such high regard in the first place. But the best part: she told me exactly what it means to be a low-level empath. I always assumed it meant the signals or readings in her mind were faint, distant or easily muddled. It turns out she senses the literal thoughts and intentions of anyone she's within 20 meters of, their very nature and essence ring into her ears...into her mind's eyes. And nothing can convince her not to act upon it. Do you know there are two species in the 16 known galaxies that physiologically make her sick, no matter what she senses from the individual person?”

“I knew she reacted horribly to Infernians and White Martians; they make her double over in pain. It was Infernian to commit the attack for which I squarely blamed our Daxamite guest.”

“I found such a creature in her apartment, a White Martian. And their kind are monsters... abominations...murderers to me and of my people. Not only did she not let me take that thing into custody, Nikita stood in my way and told me to stand down. Among other things she said that her apartment, which she is beholden to me to be able to use is as much a sanctuary of peace as it is a sanctuary of life and that if I continue to disrespect that and use the wrong end of my anatomy I would quickly find out how thoroughly even a pacifist like herself could kick my ass.”

“White Martians are aggressive, relentless and egotistical.That's not just me repeating what you told me, my Kryptonian father said the same thing. Why would she defend one of them?" Kal-el mused. "And I am assuming this is at the core of this whole situation?”

“Nikita told me that as a White Martian, Meagan is shredding her insides. Who she is as a person she is calming me...Nikita...down. And that I was the one making her sick. I couldn't believe it. I still have trouble accepting it. When she told me I was the one reminding her of Hank Henshaw, I said what's probably the most thoughtless thing to ever come out of my mouth. I insisted that she remember I knew what Henshaw was like...after all she was there when we met and he tried to cut me down.”

“...And she reminded you that by comparison you were there for five minutes...she had to live under him for five years.” Kal'el finished slowly.

“Apparently he was a far more violent and thoughtless warden than I had given him credit for. And the one time she fought back was for Jeremiah's sake and not her own. She told me few days after we'd met that her treatment at the DEO had improved tremendously, but  it was still incredibly new to her. I'm sure she's told you the same.”

“She never stops saying it...but never says anything more either.” Kal'el agreed.

“I am seriously regretting never asking her before...what her life was like even a year before I knew her. Truth is I never even tried to think about what it had been like before, what it was like under Henshaw for her or anyone else. With Me'gann standing right there she explained how she and Jeremiah became such a close team. Basically they respected and trusted each-other so completely that Henshaw brought them on missions together...a military unit is supposed to have each-others backs and they did so quite naturally...the two of them I mean. Then she turned to look at me with the most devastated expression you could ever fear to see on someone's face and said 'I understand you might not want to see me again. And you probably won't want me working at the D.E.O.; and that's alright. But there is nothing you can do to stop me from being exactly who I am.' Then asked me to leave her house, leaving her and her guest alone. I've never felt so insulted and yet rightly-embarrassed in my life. When I got back to the D.E.O. I talked to a few other inmates and realized how greatly their lives improved once I took over. Understand I did nothing as director except make sure they deserved to be there before keeping them locked up and they got medical treatment they weren't allergic to. Today I've learned even that was an improvement from their treatment at the hands of that monster Henshaw. I thought I knew him because he wanted me executed rather than captured. But he was...”

“...Everything you don't want to be.” Kal'el finished lamely.

“Exactly. And well, do you remember how it felt getting 'dressed down' for bad manners?”

The oblique reference was not lost on the Kryptonian. “Thank you for putting it gently. I don't think I'll forget that any time soon: I assumed Mon'el was responsible for an attack he was physically incapable of and jailed him at the DEO without a trial...something Nikita rightly pointed out I didn't have the authority for. In the process reminded a former DEO prisoner of the treatment she fought so hard to overcome. Worse, I became everything the two of you were trying not to allow...and acted as if in control of the situation.”

“Okay, that part I don't know about.” J'onn said quickly.

“I speak as a citizen of Earth when I meet people from other planets; after all I was raised here. But when I spoke to Mon'el I spoke as though I was an agent of the DEO, as if my prejudices towards Daxamites was DEO policy. And as if it was with their--your authority I was detaining him. The dressing down she gave me was mostly for being so completely wrong about a person and misusing an authority I had no right to claim. She said I 'was the DEO's strongest alien ally but still an ally of the DEO, not a part of it'. And that 'If I was going to speak as one of us, I might want to get my perspective straight'. I never knew she had so much passion, I never knew her to speak with such fierce conviction. It threw me completely off. I asked her what had infected her with this much 'passionate intensity' and she said I should... 'ask the man whose face J'onn is wearing for that one.' Not exactly anyone's finest moment.”

“You can say that again.” J'onn said with a discontented sigh.