Brutal Xavallen Honesty

Superman is questioning a newly arrived/newly captured alien prisoner who he is convinced is responsible for an attack on a US senator. His passion is fueled in part because he saw the effect it had on one of his friends. But he is not actually listening to him or wanting the answers he is demanding. His attitude is "Daxamite you are in trouble, Daxamite, why did you do this?" Then he says "The D.E.O knows better than to trust a Daxamite" At which point Nikita basically storms into the conversation.

“That's enough Superman!” Nikita near-barked at the Kryptonian. Who turned around with surprise and more than a little confusion.

“We have no more reason to be suspicious of him than we do of you. As far as Daxamites or Kryptonians, the D.E.O. has no particular opinion of either one of you. If you're going to speak as one of us, make sure it's something that would actually come out of our mouths.” She walked up to the force-field that contained their latest alien guest. And began typing something into the console. “Guilty until proven innocent has no place at the D.E.O. Not anymore anyway.” She sounded almost bitter, and perhaps she realized it. And by the way, you're not one of us. You are the D.E.O.'s closest alien ally but still an ally of the D.E.O. Not a part of it. We do not share you're particular prejudices about each other. As far as J'onn is concerned you leave assuming the worst about someone behind you when you walk in the door of this entire facility."

“What are you doing?” Superman asked in a puzzled voice.

“I'm getting him out of that cell.”

“You don't have the authority...”

Nikita actually chuckled. “Actually, I do. You don't have the authority to stop me.” Nikita tilted her head upward. “C.A.T. Two-three-one-seven-four-six-one-one oblique oblique. Enable.” The force-field powered down. “Come on out.” Nikita instructed the prisoner.

“I don't understand.” The man in the cell pondered. “You're actually letting me go?”

Nikita looked caught out. “I can't let you out of this facility. You'll have to speak Director Jo'nzz about that. But there is no reason on the face of this planet -Earth- for you to stay in this cell. Come on, I'll take you to my compartments.”

Giving the lie to her previous statement, Nikita turned to Superman. “He's not Infernian or Kryptonian. He's Daxamite. It's physically impossible....on both counts.”

“Okay, now I'm really confused.” Both men said almost in the same breath.

“The crime Kal-El is accusing you of was perpetrated by either a Kryptonian or Infernian. Both have heat vision. And while you have a Kryptonian's strength and speed under our yellow sun, you don't posses any of their other incredible abilities, like X-ray or heat vision. While I was watching the attack unfold I collapsed. Only White Martians or Infernians have that kind of physiological effect on my body. It is physically impossible for you to be responsible for any of this.”

“Whoever you are...” The stranger began. “I don't want to get you into any trouble.”

Nikita kept her eyes on Superman. “When J'onn asked me to join the D.E.O. I gave one condition. If I didn't think a person deserved to be in this cell...or rather if I actively believed they didn't belong there, I could release them from this cell without asking prior permission. It is literally a condition of me wearing this uniform.” She looked down at the looser fitting sleeves of her black top. “Such as it is.”

“Something else is troubling you.” Superman observed.

“Two things. One, on my planet introductions should have come before almost anything.” She pointed to the center of her chest with her right hand. “My name is Nikita, I'm Xavallen. You?” she indicated the former prisoner.

“My name is Mon-El. I'm the former prince of Daxam.”

They turned to Superman. “The two of you would call me Kal-El. Most people know me as Superman.”

“I'm just thinking he would have had something to say for himself if he wasn't talking to a brick wall. I know I would have.”

“I'm going have to ask J'onn about that.” Kal-El muttered to himself.

“He doesn't know.” Nikita insisted fiercely. “If you want to know why this is all so personal for me, he won't be able to tell you. You'd have to talk to the man whose face J'onn is wearing for that.” Nikita motioned Mon-El to follow her out of the room. He did.

“They know you're an alien.” Mon-El observed as they walked the corridors.

“Yes.” Nikita replied. “Private conversations should wait to be said in private.”

“Can't argue with you there.”

Nikita turned a corner and suddenly they seemed to be at a dead end. Nikita simply turned to the door at her left. Pressing her four fingertips against the pad next to the door she addressed the air. “One-one-four. Seven-point-two.” The door slid aside.

“Does everything here work on a numerical system?”

“No. Only things requiring my participation. They're number sequences from my personal past, things that don't have any meaning to anyone else.”

“So not only would no one else ever use them, no one else could ever guess them.”

“Exactly.”

“I'll make us some coffee. It's a pretty cool way to clear your head. Take a seat.”

Mon-El noticed the blue couch, the short but wide table that spread along it and the two seats in the far corner. He sat down on the floor in front of the table, facing the sofa. “I don't suppose you could pour me a glass of ale instead?”

“I'm not against it. But J'onn will be coming soon to check on you. Clearing fuzz out of your brain is more advisable.” Nikita rummaged around in her kitchenette for supplies. Soon the coffeemaker was gurgling. She came out carrying two narrow white mugs and a tall thermos. Setting the objects down she smiled at her guest. “Mon-El, in case I didn't make it clear, you are most welcome here. Certainly as far as I care.”

Mon-El took the hint and pulled one of the chairs up to the table and sat down. “J'onn,” Mon-El began. “Same man as director Jo'nzz?”

“Yeah. And that's as good a starting point as any.”

Raising her glass. “To friends and family. May whatever 'God' may be keep them safe and hold them in his hand.”

“Cheers to that.” They clinked mugs and drank.

“I've been an agent of the D.E.O...the Department of Extra-normal Operations for about three years. But when I was first brought in through its doors, I was an 'enemy alien'. No particular reason, except the answers I gave didn't make any sense to Hank. He thought the only reason I looked this human is because I was trying to fit in. Kept trying to get me to show him what I really look like.” She held her hands to her face. “This IS what I really look like. He couldn't figure any reason for me to have lived on Earth for more than 50 years without telling anyone I was an alien, except espionage...that I was a spy or something. In the 50 years I had been on Earth I told exactly two people that I was Xavallen. One was an alien himself. The other...a good man who used to work here.” Her face grew a sad expression for a moment. Her mind seemed to drift off to a different time before returning to the present. “I had no reason to tell Hank Henshaw a damn thing.”

“What changed?”

“The director, J'onn Jo'nzz, he's an alien himself. And a shape-shifter. When Hank Henshaw died J'onn assumed his identity to reform the D.E.O. into what it is now...rather than what it was when I was first dragged through its doors.”

“Deus. No wonder this was so personal for you.”

“And for fairly self-evident reasons I don't talk about it much; not even to J'onn... But there is one memory I should share with him.”

The door chimed. “Come in.” A black man in his mid forties, well built with short-cropped hair entered the room. A holstered weapon lay at his side. It could not be doubted he was a person of authority, and preparedness.

“I take it this is our latest alien visitor?”

“Yes. But introductions should come first.” Nikita replied.

“My name is Mon-El; I'm the former prince of a planet called Daxam.”

“I am J'onn Jo'nzz. I'm the director at the Department of Extra-normal Operations.”

“From what Nikita tells me you're a fair-minded man and patient. I hope you will be patient with me.”

“I'll do my best.” J'onn answered with a smile. “We'll put you in guest quarters for now. And I will tell you up front you will NOT leave the D.E.O unaccompanied. Do you you understand and accept this?”

“Does leaving with Nikita qualify as 'accompanied'? If so I've no problem with it.”

“Nikita, was everything above board?”

“I can honestly say I don't understand the question.”

“I am not concerned with how much of our operation he knows about. I'm wondering how much of your history you've shared with him.”

“If I didn't know you, I'd think you were jealous. But to answer your question, or rather the reasoning behind your question: I trust him as much as I trust Winn, as much as I trust Kal-El, as much as I trusted you when I first met you.” J'onn took half a step back. “And if you look at the past 28 minutes of my memories, you will see the extent to which that is true.” She nodded sagely. J'onn put his hand to Nikita's temple. A few seconds later his eyes snapped open. Nikita regarded J'onn with dreadful seriousness.

 „eemaanadaaree hamesha zaroori hai. jo zaroori hai (eemaanadaaree) vah vyavsayik ya apratyaashit ho sakata hai, lekin kabhee bhee naasamajhee nahin hotee.“

J'onn mentally translated her words. Honesty is always necessary. What is necessary (honesty) may be unprofessional or unexpected, but is never unwise.

"I understand that." J'onn breathed. He turned to Mon-El. "Excuse us a moment." "What was the memory?" Nikita looked at him with deliberate blankness. "I saw your reaction but not the memory itself, what was the memory.“

"It's when things changed. When Hank decided he could trust me to a certain point, and I decided how much I would do for Jeremiah, that I would literally do anything to protect him. Although it turned out I wasn't very good at that part.“ Nikita said with self-directed contempt. “You know, someday you're going to tell me what happened.“

"I don't understand. You were there. You did everything you could to protect Jeremiah from me. I gained at least one friend that day because of you.“

"But I don't know what happened to him!“ Nikita exploded. "I know he died that night. And given how you talk about him and the fact that I saw Henshaw's body, he probably died saving you from that monster. But that's it. I don't know what happened to him. I was a little busy being unconscious at the time.“

"You... You don't..."

"J'onn I know Jeremiah didn't survive that mission. That is ALL I ever knew.“

The story, or this scene will end with the exchange:

“You follow the Ten Glorious Tales.”

“And that surprises you?”