![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyTitle: A Young Kryptonian's Travels Or, It Is Always Darkest Before The Dawn
Fandom:SV
Pairing:Kal-El/OCs, Kal-El/Lex
Rating:NC-17
Summary:A little bit of this, a little bit of that and stirred into a totally self-indulgent stew. This is just for fun! Also, this contains bits of nearly every SF story I've ever read.
The Previous Parts are here, practicing looking innocent.
Kal sent his purchases back home, but the thought of everyone receiving their souvenirs didn't cheer him as much as he hoped it would—the Tour had lost a little of it's shine, his heart was heavy. Thoughts of Fwee made him a little melancholy…ach, he might as well admit it. Unlike cuz Mon-El, he just wasn't cut out for the—how did he put it—the 'Wham, slam, good day to you, ma'am' type of sex. The weekend with Fwee had filled his heart and mind, and made him wish for closeness beyond simple sex. Not that there was anything wrong with simple sex, of course.
Hoping that some bright new purchase might help to shake this unaccustomed melancholy, Kal strolled around the shopping level of the ship, sighing so heavily that the other passengers avoided him….
Finding nothing that spoke to him, and slowly becoming aware that he was making the other passengers skittish, he finally went back to his suite, and curled up on his bed. Ah Fweese, ah, Rwrzft—how he missed them…he wondered idly how Caar and his traveling companion were doing…maybe he should give them a ring…be neighborly…manners, after all….
He fell asleep and dreamed of Rwrzft, and Fwee, dancing in a great glowing flower strewn meadow…no, jogging…no, running…Fwee was running for his life, and Rwrzft and Caar were chasing him, mouths open and drool flying and Fwee was yelling, Kal—Kal—
"Kal-El! Wake now!"
Kal jerked awake, an unfamiliar voice was yelling right in his ear—no, inside his head—
A siren was wailing, and competing with the shriek of the sirens were instructions loudly repeating in the ten major languages of the Dominion, exhorting the passengers to report to the on-deck, and the voice in his head shouted, "You must leave your suite at once." Kal looked about wildly—this was definitely not a drill, the sound from the corridor was one of panic, and he'd never had a strange voice in his head before. Fear drove him, he snatched Cousin Shnoogie's gift—a watch slash everything—from the bedside dresser and ran.
In the corridor, the crowds melted aside as best they could to let him run, he made his way to the deck, too upset to notice. What could be happening? Ships were supposed to be safe—safer than private transport, safe as a mother's arms. So what the bloody Hells was happening here? He caught a faint whiff of burning plastic, the corridor lights flickered--dimmed and brightened arrhythmically. Under the sound of the crowd, he heard an odd whistling—and he heard the engines. He wasn't supposed to hear them….
At one end of the on-deck, small pods were continually launching. The lighting here was different—a harsh white that made everything looked washed out and pale. The people being shoved into the pods looked like lost souls under the white, white light. Even over the shrieking sirens, the cold impersonal voice shouting instructions and the frightened yells of the other passengers, Kal heard the attendants shouting orders at the people they forced into pods—one after the other, the pod hatches were thrown shut, beacons slapped on and they were launched out into the dark night of space.
To one side of the deck were several small ships, easily the size of three or four pods, Kal could see that compared to the pods the non-citizens were being crammed into, the interiors of these were luxurious. As he looked, another Kryptonian hurried to one, bowling over whoever was in his way. Kal watched open mouthed as his planetsmen were led on the run to the ships; in fact, there was a ship for every Kryptonian on board the cruiser. Panicking non-Citizens were knocked out of the Citizens' way.
The attendants noticed him standing to the side and converged on him in a multi-species wave. They tried to lead him to the last ship. There were hardly any of t he little pods left, and passengers were fewer, some of the attendants were stepping into stasis suits…the alarms were winding down and somehow the quiet was even more frightening than the noise had been. He could hear the strange whistling noise clearly now, as well as the groan of the over taxed engines.
He balked at being led away, caught up by the sight of a couple of Milmac families near one of the last escape pods—tiny, scale covered mothers with even tinier children hanging over their backs, their little tentacle-like tails wrapped around their mother's tails. The children were being pulled away from their mother. Their terrified piping filled the air as the attendants separated them and tossed them into waiting pods, only big enough to carry five or six of them at a time. The mothers were frantic, trying to comfort their children, knowing it was the only way to save them, but suffering from their separation. Other passengers rushed past, averting their eyes—each intent on their own rescue.
Except Kal-El.
"Stop! Why are you doing that?" he shouted, "Stop at once!"
Everything stopped—for a moment. An Overlord—yelling. In a public place. The novelty was enough to silence everyone, before self preservation took over.
"Honored sir--*please* get in the escape pod, now."
"But look at the size of the thing—why aren't you putting the whole family in one of those?" he pointed at the ship. "Two or three families could comfortably fit one!"
They ignored him, tried to coax him, "Please, Honored Master!" and finally, finally began to drag him bodily towards the ship. The collective gasp from the remaining passengers was clear even above the Milmac's whistling.
Kal broke free and ran back to grab the children from the tiny pods and began stuffing them into the ship meant to be his. The little Milmac mothers whistled long tremulous blasts of horror, certain that the monstrous Kryptonian was trying to stock his ship with snacks for the journey. They launched themselves at him, little needle like teeth piercing his shins—Kal-El hopped to the ship, arms full of squalling, flailing, leaky Milmac babies. "Stop—yowch—please—I'm trying to hel—ow! Stop!"
A loud, deep roar vibrated across the deck and again, everyone froze.
Caar eyed the Milmacs hanging from Kal's shins. "Bound to Hell is it, little Mothers?" He spoke the Milmac's whistling language with ease. "Or maybe you'd like to be my dinner, right now?"
They dropped off Kal like overripe fruit and edged back towards the ship Kal was trying to put their children in. Caar purred, "The crazy Krypton is trying to save you, Families. Get in the ship and shut up." As they turned, he said, "Oh…and apologize." As one, the little Milmacs dropped facedown to the deck, stayed there until Kal yelped, "Please! It's fine—just--run!"
They leaped aboard his ship like scaly little rubber balls. As the hatch closed, happy cries of "Mama!" filled the air.
The attendants stood at the last escape pod with like expressions of doom. "We're *all* going to Hell for this, Morne. We're going to *Hells*."
"Don't be stupid," the Morne laughed. "We're *all* going to *die* anyway, including the crazy Krypton," he said, watching Kal coax the last of the Milmacs aboard the rescue ship, then turn to the attendants and imperiously order them to launch the ship. He stood by with a deep scowl as they hurried to do as he said.
Caar strolled over to stand next to him. "So," he grinned. "Finally got what it means to be you, *Overlord*?"
"I—I think so. My family never really explained just what being a Kryptonian meant. I mean I knew—I just didn’t *know*."
"Well now you're finding out. Probably won’t do you any good. We're more than likely going to die in space. So much for safer than public transport…"
"What happened?" Kal asked, but the Morne was distracted by the arrival of his companion.
"Hey, nothing left but stasis suits. I'm going now." He stopped and bowed low to the both of them. "It was worth everything to have gotten to know you. Rao willing, we'll meet again."
Caar inclined his head. "In better days, my friend. Good hunting to you." He watched the Daxamite scamper off, and coughed out a rumbling laugh. "Meet again…no chance in Hades of that happening."
"You're really beginning to scare me," Kal muttered.
"What, just beginning?"
One of the loading crew ran up "Sirs, sirs, Honored and Most Gracious Master, Honored Morne Caar—there are no pods left." Half the attendants dropped face down. The remaining standing attendants moved as one behind the being who'd spoken first, making him their leader. "There are stasis suits, with beacons—the chances are excellent you'll be found—the suits are safer than private transport…" It's beak clacked as it talked, and it's many tentacular arms waved an intricate dance of frustration and apology.
Caar rumbled. "Safer, certainly…hur, hur…" He turned to Kal. "They will preserve you perfectly until whenever you're picked up again. Barring dropping into a sun, or losing your power, or being eaten by a space whale…kidding," he chuckled again at Kal's look of horror. "--but only about the space whale."
They walked to the suits, hooked against the wall in a row at the airlock. Kal thought they exuded an air of menace, almost as if they were aware…the black faceplates seemed to watch him as he walked closer.
Some attendants were entering the suits; the staff that had manhandled him were not. They helped others into the suits, which were basically one-man escape pods. They had a power source, plus a solar fan that would unfold in space. Inside the suit, all time stopped--it was like being in perpetual jump--until the suit was picked up, or detected a Dominion signal, or landed on a planet capable of sustaining the life it held. Nano-bots helped to maintain the unconscious being in the suit. Suits were nearly perfect—aside from a few minor problems…exploding power sources, a tendency to wander off course, beacons cutting out, life support failing….
Looking at the menacing suits, Kal thought about the nano-bots and shuddered. The very idea made him slightly ill…tiny little robots crawling all over him—in him, in his personal private orifices—he shuddered again.
A furry palm slapping his back knocked him out of his queasy reverie.
"It was good to know you, Crazy Krypton. Maybe we meet again. Doubtful. I will remember the fucking as long as possible. Good hunting!"
The Morne scraped a prickly tongue across Kal's mouth, and let himself also be inserted into a suit, and was shot out of the lock with a few other ship attendants.
Kal swallowed and climbed into the suit—he closed his eyes and the lock door opened—
*****
The last attendants stood on the deck and watched the last of the suits jet away.
"Well. That sucked beyond the telling."
"Yeah. Fucking Krypton." The attendant clacked it's beak and took several deep breaths. "Well, you ready?"
"I suppose. So what happened?"
"Sabotage," it said with a multiple shrug. "Anti-Krypton sabotage. 'Free 'take your pick of planet' Today'. 'Down with the Kryptonian Monster Overlords'. Idiots."
"They might have a point, don’t you think?" the other attendant took a small pill out of a decorative flourish on his name badge. The remaining attendants did the same.
"Well. Over the beak, past the gums, eh?" It waved a few tentacles in what it hoped was a suave and devil may care way, and swallowed.
"Even dead, you're an asshole," the other said. "Fuck Krypton." and he swallowed the tiny yellow pill.
"Marginally better than blowing your own brains ou--" it slumped to the floor. With gentle thumps the last of the ship's crew dropped to the floor and the mortally damaged ship opened to space. The Cruise Liner Liberty Hall was dead….
******
Thirty suits left the on-deck of Liberty Hall. The power sources of three of them immediately exploded. Two stopped working, but the beings inside them never knew. Twenty of them worked just as they were supposed to and the beings in them were rescued by various members of the Dominion. Three ships wandered off course and were found by slavers…one went into the sun of a giant planet, and one was pulled into a wormhole….
TBC
part 5
Fandom:SV
Pairing:Kal-El/OCs, Kal-El/Lex
Rating:NC-17
Summary:A little bit of this, a little bit of that and stirred into a totally self-indulgent stew. This is just for fun! Also, this contains bits of nearly every SF story I've ever read.
The Previous Parts are here, practicing looking innocent.
Kal sent his purchases back home, but the thought of everyone receiving their souvenirs didn't cheer him as much as he hoped it would—the Tour had lost a little of it's shine, his heart was heavy. Thoughts of Fwee made him a little melancholy…ach, he might as well admit it. Unlike cuz Mon-El, he just wasn't cut out for the—how did he put it—the 'Wham, slam, good day to you, ma'am' type of sex. The weekend with Fwee had filled his heart and mind, and made him wish for closeness beyond simple sex. Not that there was anything wrong with simple sex, of course.
Hoping that some bright new purchase might help to shake this unaccustomed melancholy, Kal strolled around the shopping level of the ship, sighing so heavily that the other passengers avoided him….
Finding nothing that spoke to him, and slowly becoming aware that he was making the other passengers skittish, he finally went back to his suite, and curled up on his bed. Ah Fweese, ah, Rwrzft—how he missed them…he wondered idly how Caar and his traveling companion were doing…maybe he should give them a ring…be neighborly…manners, after all….
He fell asleep and dreamed of Rwrzft, and Fwee, dancing in a great glowing flower strewn meadow…no, jogging…no, running…Fwee was running for his life, and Rwrzft and Caar were chasing him, mouths open and drool flying and Fwee was yelling, Kal—Kal—
"Kal-El! Wake now!"
Kal jerked awake, an unfamiliar voice was yelling right in his ear—no, inside his head—
A siren was wailing, and competing with the shriek of the sirens were instructions loudly repeating in the ten major languages of the Dominion, exhorting the passengers to report to the on-deck, and the voice in his head shouted, "You must leave your suite at once." Kal looked about wildly—this was definitely not a drill, the sound from the corridor was one of panic, and he'd never had a strange voice in his head before. Fear drove him, he snatched Cousin Shnoogie's gift—a watch slash everything—from the bedside dresser and ran.
In the corridor, the crowds melted aside as best they could to let him run, he made his way to the deck, too upset to notice. What could be happening? Ships were supposed to be safe—safer than private transport, safe as a mother's arms. So what the bloody Hells was happening here? He caught a faint whiff of burning plastic, the corridor lights flickered--dimmed and brightened arrhythmically. Under the sound of the crowd, he heard an odd whistling—and he heard the engines. He wasn't supposed to hear them….
At one end of the on-deck, small pods were continually launching. The lighting here was different—a harsh white that made everything looked washed out and pale. The people being shoved into the pods looked like lost souls under the white, white light. Even over the shrieking sirens, the cold impersonal voice shouting instructions and the frightened yells of the other passengers, Kal heard the attendants shouting orders at the people they forced into pods—one after the other, the pod hatches were thrown shut, beacons slapped on and they were launched out into the dark night of space.
To one side of the deck were several small ships, easily the size of three or four pods, Kal could see that compared to the pods the non-citizens were being crammed into, the interiors of these were luxurious. As he looked, another Kryptonian hurried to one, bowling over whoever was in his way. Kal watched open mouthed as his planetsmen were led on the run to the ships; in fact, there was a ship for every Kryptonian on board the cruiser. Panicking non-Citizens were knocked out of the Citizens' way.
The attendants noticed him standing to the side and converged on him in a multi-species wave. They tried to lead him to the last ship. There were hardly any of t he little pods left, and passengers were fewer, some of the attendants were stepping into stasis suits…the alarms were winding down and somehow the quiet was even more frightening than the noise had been. He could hear the strange whistling noise clearly now, as well as the groan of the over taxed engines.
He balked at being led away, caught up by the sight of a couple of Milmac families near one of the last escape pods—tiny, scale covered mothers with even tinier children hanging over their backs, their little tentacle-like tails wrapped around their mother's tails. The children were being pulled away from their mother. Their terrified piping filled the air as the attendants separated them and tossed them into waiting pods, only big enough to carry five or six of them at a time. The mothers were frantic, trying to comfort their children, knowing it was the only way to save them, but suffering from their separation. Other passengers rushed past, averting their eyes—each intent on their own rescue.
Except Kal-El.
"Stop! Why are you doing that?" he shouted, "Stop at once!"
Everything stopped—for a moment. An Overlord—yelling. In a public place. The novelty was enough to silence everyone, before self preservation took over.
"Honored sir--*please* get in the escape pod, now."
"But look at the size of the thing—why aren't you putting the whole family in one of those?" he pointed at the ship. "Two or three families could comfortably fit one!"
They ignored him, tried to coax him, "Please, Honored Master!" and finally, finally began to drag him bodily towards the ship. The collective gasp from the remaining passengers was clear even above the Milmac's whistling.
Kal broke free and ran back to grab the children from the tiny pods and began stuffing them into the ship meant to be his. The little Milmac mothers whistled long tremulous blasts of horror, certain that the monstrous Kryptonian was trying to stock his ship with snacks for the journey. They launched themselves at him, little needle like teeth piercing his shins—Kal-El hopped to the ship, arms full of squalling, flailing, leaky Milmac babies. "Stop—yowch—please—I'm trying to hel—ow! Stop!"
A loud, deep roar vibrated across the deck and again, everyone froze.
Caar eyed the Milmacs hanging from Kal's shins. "Bound to Hell is it, little Mothers?" He spoke the Milmac's whistling language with ease. "Or maybe you'd like to be my dinner, right now?"
They dropped off Kal like overripe fruit and edged back towards the ship Kal was trying to put their children in. Caar purred, "The crazy Krypton is trying to save you, Families. Get in the ship and shut up." As they turned, he said, "Oh…and apologize." As one, the little Milmacs dropped facedown to the deck, stayed there until Kal yelped, "Please! It's fine—just--run!"
They leaped aboard his ship like scaly little rubber balls. As the hatch closed, happy cries of "Mama!" filled the air.
The attendants stood at the last escape pod with like expressions of doom. "We're *all* going to Hell for this, Morne. We're going to *Hells*."
"Don't be stupid," the Morne laughed. "We're *all* going to *die* anyway, including the crazy Krypton," he said, watching Kal coax the last of the Milmacs aboard the rescue ship, then turn to the attendants and imperiously order them to launch the ship. He stood by with a deep scowl as they hurried to do as he said.
Caar strolled over to stand next to him. "So," he grinned. "Finally got what it means to be you, *Overlord*?"
"I—I think so. My family never really explained just what being a Kryptonian meant. I mean I knew—I just didn’t *know*."
"Well now you're finding out. Probably won’t do you any good. We're more than likely going to die in space. So much for safer than public transport…"
"What happened?" Kal asked, but the Morne was distracted by the arrival of his companion.
"Hey, nothing left but stasis suits. I'm going now." He stopped and bowed low to the both of them. "It was worth everything to have gotten to know you. Rao willing, we'll meet again."
Caar inclined his head. "In better days, my friend. Good hunting to you." He watched the Daxamite scamper off, and coughed out a rumbling laugh. "Meet again…no chance in Hades of that happening."
"You're really beginning to scare me," Kal muttered.
"What, just beginning?"
One of the loading crew ran up "Sirs, sirs, Honored and Most Gracious Master, Honored Morne Caar—there are no pods left." Half the attendants dropped face down. The remaining standing attendants moved as one behind the being who'd spoken first, making him their leader. "There are stasis suits, with beacons—the chances are excellent you'll be found—the suits are safer than private transport…" It's beak clacked as it talked, and it's many tentacular arms waved an intricate dance of frustration and apology.
Caar rumbled. "Safer, certainly…hur, hur…" He turned to Kal. "They will preserve you perfectly until whenever you're picked up again. Barring dropping into a sun, or losing your power, or being eaten by a space whale…kidding," he chuckled again at Kal's look of horror. "--but only about the space whale."
They walked to the suits, hooked against the wall in a row at the airlock. Kal thought they exuded an air of menace, almost as if they were aware…the black faceplates seemed to watch him as he walked closer.
Some attendants were entering the suits; the staff that had manhandled him were not. They helped others into the suits, which were basically one-man escape pods. They had a power source, plus a solar fan that would unfold in space. Inside the suit, all time stopped--it was like being in perpetual jump--until the suit was picked up, or detected a Dominion signal, or landed on a planet capable of sustaining the life it held. Nano-bots helped to maintain the unconscious being in the suit. Suits were nearly perfect—aside from a few minor problems…exploding power sources, a tendency to wander off course, beacons cutting out, life support failing….
Looking at the menacing suits, Kal thought about the nano-bots and shuddered. The very idea made him slightly ill…tiny little robots crawling all over him—in him, in his personal private orifices—he shuddered again.
A furry palm slapping his back knocked him out of his queasy reverie.
"It was good to know you, Crazy Krypton. Maybe we meet again. Doubtful. I will remember the fucking as long as possible. Good hunting!"
The Morne scraped a prickly tongue across Kal's mouth, and let himself also be inserted into a suit, and was shot out of the lock with a few other ship attendants.
Kal swallowed and climbed into the suit—he closed his eyes and the lock door opened—
*****
The last attendants stood on the deck and watched the last of the suits jet away.
"Well. That sucked beyond the telling."
"Yeah. Fucking Krypton." The attendant clacked it's beak and took several deep breaths. "Well, you ready?"
"I suppose. So what happened?"
"Sabotage," it said with a multiple shrug. "Anti-Krypton sabotage. 'Free 'take your pick of planet' Today'. 'Down with the Kryptonian Monster Overlords'. Idiots."
"They might have a point, don’t you think?" the other attendant took a small pill out of a decorative flourish on his name badge. The remaining attendants did the same.
"Well. Over the beak, past the gums, eh?" It waved a few tentacles in what it hoped was a suave and devil may care way, and swallowed.
"Even dead, you're an asshole," the other said. "Fuck Krypton." and he swallowed the tiny yellow pill.
"Marginally better than blowing your own brains ou--" it slumped to the floor. With gentle thumps the last of the ship's crew dropped to the floor and the mortally damaged ship opened to space. The Cruise Liner Liberty Hall was dead….
******
Thirty suits left the on-deck of Liberty Hall. The power sources of three of them immediately exploded. Two stopped working, but the beings inside them never knew. Twenty of them worked just as they were supposed to and the beings in them were rescued by various members of the Dominion. Three ships wandered off course and were found by slavers…one went into the sun of a giant planet, and one was pulled into a wormhole….
TBC
part 5
Tags:
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
7/2/07 04:46 am (UTC)So sad, casual sex got old fast for the young Kryptonian....
I love Kal to pieces - he is such a good boy. Helping out the families and still not quite getting what it means to be Kryptonian in the known'verse, but using his powers for good, awwwwwwwwww!!!!!
And huh, so much for a light and breezy trip though Kryptonian controled space - too bad there is so much anti-Krypton sentiment out there. I guess Lex is going to have to make Kal in to a much better ruler once he gets a hold of him - at least Kal's experiences might make him more likely to agree to a Lex backed/influenced/suggested coup.
(no subject)
7/2/07 11:41 pm (UTC)oh, well, now, not necesarily...*G*
Kal is a good boy, isn't he? *gives him a cookie*
(no subject)
7/2/07 05:06 am (UTC)That's our Kal though... playing the hero. *grins*
(no subject)
7/2/07 11:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
7/2/07 05:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
7/2/07 11:42 pm (UTC)(no subject)
7/2/07 05:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
7/2/07 11:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
7/2/07 06:41 am (UTC)Okay enough of that CLEX CLEX CLEX CLEX CLEXXXXXXXXXXX
just a sutble hint **cough**
(no subject)
7/2/07 11:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
7/2/07 12:48 pm (UTC)I love my Kal-El. Looking forward to his next adventure. :D
(no subject)
7/2/07 11:45 pm (UTC)He's such an earnest little sweetie, no?
(no subject)
7/2/07 02:12 pm (UTC)Ah, the life of a young Overlord. He won't know what hit him.
(no subject)
7/2/07 11:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
7/2/07 09:04 pm (UTC)(no subject)
7/2/07 11:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
7/2/07 11:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
7/3/07 03:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
7/4/07 03:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
7/5/07 02:05 am (UTC)(no subject)
7/5/07 02:13 pm (UTC)(no subject)
7/6/07 12:29 am (UTC)(no subject)
7/19/07 05:50 am (UTC)(no subject)
8/9/07 02:55 am (UTC)*GRIN*
(no subject)
8/9/07 03:53 am (UTC)Crap--I have no idea how I missed replying to all the other comments--what the hell happened here??
(no subject)
10/2/07 07:03 pm (UTC)Maybe we meet again. Doubtful. I will remember the fucking as long as possible.
That was hilarious.
I'm glad Kal is beginning to realise how Kryptonians is perceived.
(no subject)
6/2/09 02:35 pm (UTC)And here you do explain (sort of) the Kal's dimness:
>>. "So," he grinned. "Finally got what it means to be you, *Overlord*?"
"I—I think so. My family never really explained just what being a Kryptonian meant. I mean I knew—I just didn’t *know*."<<
I've been reading your stories for hours and I'm not done yet.
(no subject)
11/27/12 06:34 pm (UTC)