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-1994-
-SECTOR 2813-
When the news reached the Green Lantern corps that Krypton had exploded, Hal Jordan could hardly believe it. Tomar-Re was the Lantern of Sector 2813, but since Hal was Lantern of the sector one over, he was assigned by the Guardians - along with a fleet of others - to investigate the planet's death. What they knew that few others did was that in Krypton's ancient history, the locals had created a monster of horrific power and trapped it in the core of their planet, prophesying a doomsday if it ever got free. It had been thousands of years since then, so maybe it was dead...
But the Guardians weren't taking any chances.
So now, Hal was one of many, flying in a squadron formation as they approached the place where Krypton once was.
There wasn't much left to find. Chunks of a planet floating in space, the pull of Rao - their red sun - dragging rocks and freeze-dried corpses into its gravity well. If they had gotten here a few days later, there would be nothing to find at all. Just ash and dust.
"There any survivors?" Hal asked into his fancy alien earpiece.
"Kryptonians were a warlike species," Tomar-Re answered calmly, his slightly reptilian, but friendly voice coming into his ear like a curious garden snake. "They were also deeply paranoid. You were too young to be there, but... not three hundred years ago, they were a plague on this sector and many others. Before even my time, they were infamous for breeding with the local fauna and creating generational dynasties that lasted for millennia."
"How does that answer my question?" Hal muttered. “All that information is already accessible through the rings.”
Tomar-Re continued patiently. "They stretched themselves too thin. Fought amongst themselves. They weaponized a substance that only originates on Krypton – a terrifyingly radioactive isotope found deep in their planet's core – to battle each other."
"Rebels got a hold of the substance," Kilowog muttered.
"And so a massacre began. Thousands of civil wars across all their conquered worlds that make the 'Second World War' of your 'Terra' look like a playground disagreement," the Lantern of Sector 2813 murmured, eyes flickering over the wreckage. "I couldn't sleep for the distress calls. There was no way to stop it... and in the end, the Kryptonians were driven back to their home world. In a number of weeks, their population had shrunk from trillions across the galaxy... to millions, isolated on one planet. A planet that they left in the first place for survival. Krypton is part of a three-body system, as you can see. Rao is simply the largest and closest."
Hal grimaced. Planets in a trisolar system were subject to chaotic shifts in weather and gravity. There was a reason why the Kryptonians had evolved to be so tough, and basically be able to survive on sunshine alone.
"Their council decreed that no one leaves the planet. For their own safety," Tomar-Re murmured, a sad weight in his voice that was hard to identify. "They even had... turrets. Turned against their own people. Just so that no one was tempted to evoke the wrath of their conquered planets again."
"Again. This is all in the archives," Hal snapped. "Are. There. Any. Survivors."
Kilowog ran a scan over the wreckage, an emerald beam thousands of miles wide, as he checked for any surviving life forms. Hal zipped up next to him to check the numbers.
The readout was blank for a moment.
Then, it blinked a confirmation.
Zero living creatures.
"Check it again," he muttered.
"I am sorry, Hal Jordan," Tomar-Re murmured, floating over to him. "You are still quite new to the Corps. The death of a planet is a great tragedy, but it is not the first time this has happened, nor will it be the last. If you wish, you may go home. We will scan for the doomsday creature and call you if we require assistance."
Hal sputtered in annoyance. "I don't need to go home!"
"Nonetheless. Perhaps you should."
The youngest of the Green Lanterns sighed heavily, glancing between his fellow corps members...
No one piped up for him.
"This is bullshit..." Hal grumbled under his breath, and took off.
—
-THREE MONTHS LATER-
-SECTOR 2814: Coast City, Planet Terra-
Hal was eating dinner in his living room when suddenly, his ring peeped. He frowned, chewing, and twisted the piece of jewelry.
"You've never made that noise before," he mumbled. "The fuck...?"
Suddenly, a bright green orb of light erupted in his living room. Hal choked, coughed, and stared up in bewilderment at what looked like a scan of Earth's outer atmosphere. Something had just entered it! Something with an alien signature.
"Well, shit..." Hal grumbled. "Don't even get to finish my goddamn meal, do I?"
He shoveled one more spoonful of cornflakes into his mouth and grabbed his flight jacket, eyes tracking the blip as it arced down through the thermosphere. It was small. Really small. "What are you...?" he whispered to himself. "You're no battle cruiser. You got no guns on ya. You're not travelin' fast enough to make a hole in the crust..."
He zipped up the jacket he wore to stay warm on quick flights, jogged outside, and took off.
Whatever it was, it looked like it was going to set down in rural Kansas. He couldn't go too fast or he'd set the air on fire, but he could get there in a few hours. Hopefully nobody met this alien before he did.
-Smallville, Kansas-
The vessel he’d tracked was empty.
Hal stood in the wreckage of a small barn, where a Kryptonian escape pod – no larger than a chest of drawers – was still smoking in the earth. It was spherical and honeycombed like a soccer ball, connected in two halves with the top ejected off.
He looked down and around. Shoe prints were pressed into the turned over soil. Two sets, visibly different in size, were the only ones going to and from this pod…
And what he hoped would contain the body of an adult humanoid only held what was, unmistakably, a baby seat.
Hal glanced at the small, expanded mobile home not thirty yards away.
He could hear the infant’s wailing from here.
“Fuck.”
—
Jonathan and Martha Kent were beside themselves with grief and adrenaline. This poor, crying infant was in a snow suit of all things! In the dead of summer! Strapped to a seat in some strange pod, all by himself, without anyone around for miles!
“Shhh… shh…you’re okay…”
Martha tried to soothe the baby, but he just wailed violently, snot and tears streaming down his face. She bounced him gently on her shoulder. He was stripped of his insulated suit, just wrapped in a towel. She knew it could be evidence so she didn’t throw the diaper away but she couldn’t bear to see him sitting in his own filth. He wasn’t hurt or dirty besides a badly soiled diaper—
“How long were you in there…?” she whispered. “You poor dear…”
Jon moved quickly into their house, screen door slamming shut on its springs behind him. He carried a bag in his hand nearly triple the size of the baby, made of the same fire-blanket-like material of the snow suit.
“Is he okay?” Jon asked, heart pounding as he put the bag down on their kitchen table.
“He’s okay, I think…” she let out shakily, rubbing the baby’s back. “Which department do we call? I don’t even remember if we were still in the county or not—“
“I think we just call one of ‘em and they’ll figure out the rest—?“
Suddenly, there was a knock at the front door.
"'Scuse me? Anybody home?" called an unfamiliar voice, with a light country twang to it.
Both of their heads whipped around.
"Forgive the hour, but I saw somethin' come down in your yard! I'm, uh– I'm new to the sheriff's department! Hello?"
“Oh thank God,” Martha breathed as her husband approached the door.
Jon opened up the screen door and let the man in, concern heavy in the lines of his face. “We were just about to call. We were drivin’ and saw something odd had crashed into our barn? W-We found this little guy strapped inta something like a fair ride, we dunno how long he was in there for or who how he got there—“
“All his stuff is in the kitchen,” Martha added, patting the baby’s back. “They left ‘im in a snow suit! In this weather! I know I shoulda left ‘im alone but I couldn’t leave him in that thing!“
"... Right..."
Hal suddenly remembered his manners, and who he was supposed to be.
He held out a hand. "Uh, Officer Jordan. Nice to meetcha..." he murmured.
Jon shook his hand. It was firm, but a little clammy, clearly affected by the adrenaline of the situation. “I’m Jonathan Kent. Th-This is my wife, Martha.”
Hal nodded, a little absently, and approached the baby.
Big, fat tears rolled down the baby’s face, his cheeks red and face glossy.
This invasive alien was just an infant. Not even a year old.
He gently offered his finger to the baby. It went mostly ignored, though a little fist rested against it after a small flail of emotion.
Hal took a steadying breath. It felt like he’d swallowed a bowling ball. It was nighttime and he'd just arrived, so any strength the little nugget had wouldn't be at maximum capacity. Seeing a baby of this species alone was... strange. With everything he knew about Kryptonians being sent to new planets – although that knowledge was hundreds of years old – typically they were sent with a chaperone. Someone older, to teach them their ways. Especially on a life-rich planet with a yellow sun, where this little tyke was gonna basically turn into a god in comparison to normal people...
He'd never fought a Kryptonian before. He could form Kryptonite constructs, just to level the playing field a bit. But if the archives were accurate about what adult soldiers were capable of, he still didn't like his odds.
"So aside from the, uh... fair ride in the backyard, you see anyone else? Anyone he might belong to?"
“Not a soul,” Martha shook her head, easing her bouncing so Hal could look at the baby, but continuing to rub his back, “This little guy was all by himself. No cars or tracks or anything.”
“I checked the barn but didn’t find anyone. Only thing with ‘im was that,” Jon said, gesturing to the bag on the kitchen table.
Hal exhaled slowly through his nose. Baby or not, protocol said that he had to let the Guardians know. An infant Kryptonian was no joke. Like... letting a single locust loose in a field. Either nothing would happen, or the whole crop could get razed to the ground.
He picked up the bag, unzipping it and looking inside.
It was filled halfway with tightly folded, incredibly soft white cloth squares. Atop it was a handful of larger folded fabric in various textures, odd ceramic shapes intertwined both by themselves with each other, and liquid preserved in portions. He picked one up, examining it. The ceramic was written on, the Kryptonian characters rearranging themselves in his head until he could tell what they said. It was labeled with… a time.
Cloth diapers, baby clothes, teething toys and breastmilk.
This was a fucking diaper bag.
He couldn't tell the Guardians about this. There were sanctions on endangered intergalactic species, but this was a Kryptonian. The Green Lanterns had never been dispatched to help with the evacuation of Krypton, and that was telling. The extinction of their species was something expected and never prevented...
"Fuck my life..." Hal whispered to himself, rubbing his forehead.
He exhaled softly and aimed a halfhearted smile towards the Kents. "Sorry. Language..."
“What is it?” John asked quietly.
Hal didn't quite have the strength to answer. He just started setting out the baby supplies, bottle by bottle and diaper by diaper. This was almost certainly a sign that there was an adult Kryptonian incoming, right? You didn't send an infant with supplies unless there was someone you expected to use it. Unless—
His fingertips bumped against something hard.
Hal frowned... and pulled out a small, glowing crystal. Before he had a chance to identify it, it suddenly lit up.
A tiny projection of two white-clad Kryptonians shimmered up near the ceiling. Not six inches tall.
Jon and Martha Kent startled, hands pressed to their chests in alarm. "Oh, Heavens above...!"
Hal didn't flinch. It was a message. It was in an alien language, so while this poor couple wouldn't be able to understand a thing, he understood every word.
"We love you more than heaven, our son. We love you more than land. Our beloved home is soon to be gone forever. But hope vitalizes our hearts... and that hope is you, Kal El."
Kal El. House of El. The archives said that the Els were scientists, primarily. Not soldiers.
Hal took a mental note of that and didn't take his eyes off the projection. "We have searched the universe for a home where you can do that most good, and live out Krypton's truth," the baby's mother was saying stoically, softly, and his father continued. "That place is Earth. The people there are simple, and profoundly confused. Weak of mind and spirit and body. Lord over the planet as the last son of Krypton. Dispatch of anyone unable or unwilling to serve you, Kal El. Take as many wives as you can, so your genes and Krypton's might and legacy will live on in this new frontier."
Hal's mouth pressed into a grim line. There it was. The conqueror's mentality.
"Do us proud, our beloved son. Rule without mercy."
The hologram vanished back into the crystal, leaving nothing but an infant's cries. The crying sounded different now… and it was almost distracted at the sound, comforted however briefly. Whether from his native tongue or the sounds of his parents' voices, it was hard to say.
“What was that?” Jon asked, pale and sweating.
“What language is that?” Martha whispered, resuming with her swaying with the baby, shushing him softly.
The pair looked at each other and then back to the ‘officer.’
“Where is this boy from?” Jon breathed, fear bright in his eyes.
Hal took a soft breath. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't take this kid. Even if he was father material, or if he wanted a kid, he didn't have time for one. He'd just end up neglecting it. He'd had this job for nine years now. He knew that much to be a fact...
Fuck, he'd had this job for nine years.
The young man rubbed his face and squeezed the back of his own neck, thinking hard. He'd made the decision when he first got the job to keep his position a secret. Advertising that a Green Lantern called some backwater planet his home invited challenge, and on top of that, secrecy provided him privacy. But this... this changed a lot of things. He couldn't explain what this kid needed unless he came clean to these people.
He gazed down at that teary, wrinkled-up little face.
This kid just lost his parents.
That hit home, if nothing else.
Hal took a deep, bracing breath, and finally let his hands fall. He hooked his thumbs into his belt loops and turned to face them.
"This little boy is an alien," he stated calmly. "He's from the planet Krypton."
“An alien?” Jon repeated.
Martha looked down at the baby in her arms and then over to his belongings. “It was a space suit…” she breathed out softly at the realization.
There had been plenty of reports about aliens in the past dozen years, almost as many as they’d heard about more metahumans. There was even a man called Green Lantern, their first local superhero. It wasn’t lost on them that the child being alien was a possibility. But this baby didn’t look alien. Not traditionally, anyway…
The couple looked at one another and then back to Hal.
“What happens to him now?” Martha asked quietly
Hal looked down at the tiny baby, wishing he had a better solution. "He's a refugee," he murmured. "I can't take him home, because his planet's gone. Exploded. About three months ago. Didn't think there were any survivors, but apparently there's one."
“Jesus…” Jon exhaled. His gaze went back to the little boy, his own eyes growing glossy. “He’s all by himself…?”
“Where are you going to take him then?” Martha asked, stroking the baby’s back under the towel. “He’s supposed to go back to space, ain’t he?”
"That's the thing. I, uh..."
Hal rubbed the back of his head. "I'm not from the sheriff's office. Sorry 'bout the deception. I'm kind of a... secret space cop. I thought whatever was comin' down here might be dangerous, but it's... it's just a kid. I got authority to make a decision since he's on Earth, but... not gonna lie, I dunno what to do."
There was something tense that came over the couple at his omission… but then, a flicker of recognition came over Martha’s face.
“You’re the Green Lantern.”
Hal gave her a halfhearted smile and didn’t deny it.
Instead, he settled his hips against the kitchen island. "He's gonna grow up with a lotta potential,” he continued, looking down at that tired, hiccuping little infant. “To do a lotta damage or a lotta good. I'd prefer it be that last one."
“We all got the potential to do that,” Martha murmured, brows knit together in concern. “If you got the authority, what’s your decision then?”
“Martha…” Jon said to her quietly.
“Well, we gotta know for his sake, Jon.“
Hal shrugged. "I can't take him. I don't got the lifestyle to do raisin' a kid any kinda justice. But I can try to scout out a good home for him. Somebody who's ready and willin' to look after him..."
He glanced quietly at the older lady, and this soft-eyed older man. "You two got kids of your own? Grandkids?” he asked. “You know how much of an ask that can be. And this kid's gonna be different. He's gonna start liftin' refrigerators over his head and shootin' laser beams from his eyes. Hell, he's gonna learn he can fly one day and have no idea how to manage it."
There was something unspoken as the pair looked back at each other.
And then Jon looked back at Hal, throat tight.
“We could be a good home.”
“Even though ya know it’s gonna be tough?” the Lantern asked gently. “Even if ya know he’s gonna grow up feelin’ like he’ll never one hundred percent fit in? You got a big responsibility here to make sure he grows up good, ‘cuz if he doesn’t…”
Hal sighed quietly, his shoulders tense. “I don’t wanna have to come back under bad terms. I promise that’s not a threat, neither. I genuinely really don’t.”
“Everyone has their struggles.” Martha spoke up this time. “And everyone makes mistakes. But it’s about what you do after and the character you build.”
“We’d do right by him.” Jon added, moving beside his wife, eyes down on the baby.
Hal gave them both a long, lingering gaze.
He had no reason to believe them.
But… his gut said that he could. He believed them.
“Alright,” Hal murmured.
He pulled a notebook and pen out of his jeans, wrote a few things down on it, and stripped out the page. “I’m Hal Jordan. This is my landline and my address,” he informed them.
He stuck it on the fridge with a magnet. “I’m not home a lot, so snail mail might be more reliable, but ya might be able to catch me. Either call or send a letter if you need me to come by. Let’s try to keep it to emergencies only, yeah? I’ll check in every couple months to see how things are goin’. Just to make sure.”
He stuffed his notepad back in his back pocket. “Well, uh… good luck. Sorry again…”
“No— no, thank you..” Jon said, throat tight, repressing how much he was emotionally choking up.
He approached the Lantern and took his hand, shaking it firmly with one and clasping it almost gently with the other.
“Thank you.”
Hal blinked in surprise. “Oh, uh… Don’t gotta thank me. Just tryin’ to do what’s best for the kid, y’know.”
He cleared his throat. “Right. Um.”
He touched his forehead and snorted, trying to shake off that odd twinge of emotion. “Kryptonians metabolize radiation. Uh, sunshine. That’s probably why he’s cryin’, it’s cuz he’s hungry. They can ingest pretty much anything and get nutrients from it, but they need sunshine. So… make sure he gets plenty’a that. Otherwise you should be good.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Martha murmured softly, rocking the still crying baby.
“Can he have those?” Jon asked, nodding toward the bottles on the table.
“Uh— yeah.”
Hal nodded, thankful that they’d forgotten the crystal he’d palmed. “Please. He’s gonna need ‘em. I…”
Suddenly, his ring let out that same, warbling shriek. This time it was louder, a lot louder.
Hal stiffened. That meant something else was breaking the atmosphere.
Something a lot bigger.
“Shit, I gotta—“ He coughed into his fist and raised a hand in farewell, jogging out the front door. “I gotta go! I-I’ll come by in January!”
He dashed out onto the front lawn and launched himself into the sky, yanking off his glove as he went to see what the scans could tell him. Oh, this thing was a ship. A Kryptonian fortress layered with technology of all kinds. Weapons, robotics, the whole shebang. Automatons with both combat programming and child-rearing capabilities. There were no living creatures on board— but this was the warship. This was the stronghold meant to be ‘Kal El’s’ inheritance. The intention here was to wake the automatons inside and raise him that way. He would grow up easily and become King of Terra, just like his home planet wanted.
Whether it was the dying wish of two parents or not, Hal Jordan wasn’t about to let that happen.
He broke the atmosphere and hurled out a massive emerald construct, snagging the glittering mountain of Kryptonian crystal before it could make touch down on Kansas soil. He groaned in effort, sweat floating in beads in zero gravity…
He dragged it south. As far south as he could go.
One day maybe Kal El could see this place. Learn of his heritage in a controlled environment. For now, it needed to be where no one would find it; where the planet’s magnetism shrouded it from most forms of detection. He would use the ring to fuck with their technology, reprogram the AI at the heart of the fortress, and do his best to erase the second half of that message….
It was probably gonna bite him in the ass someday.
But right now, it was the best idea Hal could come up with.