Away From Thanagar

[katarhol]

It's been a long flight. Even with the faster-than-light travel capabilities of this starship, space seems endless. But it wasn't for Byth, and therefore it won't be for the two Hawks dispatched to drag him back to justice kicking and squealing.

Katar Hol has a checkered past, to say the least, which is why there is still some suspicion between his partner on this mission and himself. But there is also seven hells worth of downtime as they follow Byth's last known coordinates to trace his trajectory. If anything will unite the purposes of Katar and Shayera Thal, it will be the need to bring violent justice to that shapeshifting dog.

That anger scales back to a slow boil though, because there's a lot of space to get through before he can act on it.

A lot of space. And one person to travel with.

Comments

[katarhol]

"I wouldn't presume that authority," he responds, noting the offense in her tone.

"Perhaps I misinterpreted your admission of sucking as an invitation for guidance."

Every once in a while - likely not often enough, he supposes - Katar notices it when he sounds pedantic.

"Or assistance. Or simple pointers. Suggestions."

Okay, now he's just awkwardly groping for words that don't sound condescending, and feeling like he's failing.

"I didn't mean to offend," is what he finally settles on.

[downsider]

He's definitely failing.

She won't bring up Hommy. That would be too low a blow. In retrospect, she knows her reaction to that was overblown. She knows her anger can take over, sometimes. But she remembers how she felt, at the time. Like he'd expected loyalty from Hommy, when all he'd given was a cursory acknowledgement of Hommy's sentience.

She's felt the weight of that expectation from Topsiders her whole adult life.

And yet, she's defended this person, occasionally to her own detriment. There's something about him - his sincerity, even as he struggles to find the right words.

"Forget it," she says. Her pride won't allow a complete absolution, but it will allow an attempt, of sorts, at finding some common ground.

"I'm not... like you," she concedes. "I'm sure they'll love you."

There's only the slightest hint of bitterness in her voice.

[katarhol]

Katar attempts to push past his awkwardness, letting out a soft chuckle at the notion that Earthers will fall at his feet.

"I'll be lucky if they don't dissect me. Judging by these vids of their culture, they do a lot of storytelling about violence against aliens."

A clip plays of Will Smith punching an alien in the face.

"At least when they don't look like them."

[downsider]

"Hm," goes Shayera. "It's interesting, actually. They seem to have a lot of cultural anxiety about aliens, for a planet that's been so isolated from the intergalactic community."

Her gaze travels back to her translations. Languages interest her, in an idle sort of way. She's never been patient enough to really study linguistics - or any academic subject - seriously, but she's always been a quick study, something of a jack-of-all-trades. Earth has so many languages, with so many regional and cultural variations... in part, she supposes, because of the sheer land mass that can separate different segments of humanity.

"Seems a little bit like projection," she says, mostly just thinking out loud at this point. "Just look at their own global history. They invade each others' territories constantly. Maybe it's for the best that we approach them before they develop the technology necessary to approach us."

Spoken like someone who's been steeped in a culture with a policy of colonialist expansion - which, of course, she is.

[katarhol]

"They fear the unknown," he returns, matter-of-factly. "They are separated by their own social constructs, and isolated enough from each other despite their globalizing technology that they consider each other the unknown. The space beyond their world magnifies that fear."

His lips tighten. "Another reason to come in peace. An outside threat is the only thing that might be able to unite them, and dwarf the importance of their own regional squabbles."

[downsider]

"I suppose," Shayera says, but her voice is a little skeptical. "It seems odd that it's taken us this long to initiate contact with them, though."

As far as they know, of course. The government of Thanagar does tend to keep its secrets.

[katarhol]

"Well, we'd have little reason to do so," Katar surmises. "Aside from the god-man Pul would fear, they also have a bizarrely high representation in the Green Lantern Corps, another organization whose purview he would prefer to avoid."

He rubs his chin, puzzled. "But you have a point. They do not seem to have any formally established relationship with another planet in spite of all that potential exposure. They have to know more than we can discern from these limited materials."

A scratch of his head. "Maybe... maybe they prefer neutrality in order to harbor alien refugees. Could that nobility be present in a culture this territorial?"

His thoughts turn to the Downside - what people like Pul would term 'the repository for the organic waste of Thanagar's conquests.' The starving beings of several alien cultures that the despots have no use for, once their planets were plundered of their material resources.

Then, he glances over to Shayera as she studies her linguistics. Pondering how she grew up in that maliciously oppressive squalor. The chaos of confused, tragic poverty, forced to grovel for scraps from the tables of oppressors. Katar spent enough time there after his exile to see the struggle. There's no beauty in the struggle, but there's beauty in the fact that there IS a struggle. The dominated do not wish to remain dominated. That fire is present in Shayera and it glows brightly.

Sometimes it's hard to take his eyes away from it.