A Requiem for Krypton

[Andy C.]

Those of you who know me (which is pretty much no-one outside of the RPG forums) know I'm a huge fan of Superman. From the Silver Age and the Christopher Reeve movies to the Animated Series and the infamous 'Blue' arc, up to and including Superman Returns (yeah, you heard me, 60% of the boards), I absolutely love the character and the mythology surrounding him.

However, it's very rare that we get to see the famous world that he came from, beyond mere glimpses and the occasional flashback. The only real in-depth looks into the lives of Jor-El, Zod, et al, are John Byrne's World of Krypton and Kevin Anderson's The Last Days of Krypton, and to be frank, I'm not particularly crazy about either. If Superman's going to carry on the memory of that world, it ought to be one that is really and truly worthy of rememberance.

With that in mind, I've been coming up with my own version of Last Days, set in an alternate timeline from the main DCU, and will eventually be the prologue to an 'Ultimate Superman' set I plan on writing. While it will hopefully contain familiar elements from most of the well-known versions, the style is meant to be modelled primarily after Mark Waid's Birthright, and the story is mostly my own.

Anyway, with only a tiny bit more of further ado, here it is.

(Obviously, I do not claim any ownership of the characters or places mentioned in this story. All that is the property of DC comics, and the intellectual property of the original writers. This is purely for entertainment purposes)

A REQUIEM FOR KRYPTON
By Andrew Cayse​

Introduction:​

Across the limitless gulf of space, great and powerful races have risen and fallen. Mighty alliances held entire galaxies together, and frightful empires cut swaths of destruction across untold worlds. Wars between vast factions have raged across the cosmos, eons of history lost in the chaos, or simply by the ravages of time.

Throughout the history of the universe, however, there is one planet, the name of which is spoken only in hushed tones--sometimes in reverence, sometimes in dread. Legends of it spread across space and time, tales of incalculable treasures and horrific secrets. What remains of its technology is coveted by other races with almost religious awe, for it could almost certainly be considered the stuff of miracles. Even the proudest of warriors and the most enlightened leaders are humbled when compared to the bygone heroes of this world. And yet the strongest and most invincible conquerors are reminded of their own mortality, as even the legendary planet was unable to escape the inevitable.

In the galaxy known to humans as Andromeda, there once was an old red star, around which orbited a harsh and unforgiving planet. Its environment was so brutal and its gravity so strong, it would be considered uninhabitable by the standards of nearly all sentient species. Life, however, took hold on this planet, and over the course of millions of years, flourished beyond belief.

The dominant race of this world grew strong, and in their infancy, spread into the universe as warlike barbarians. Their foes would never forget the terror of facing men who seemed to be as gods. After centuries of conquest, the empire collapsed, and the world was cut off from the outside universe, alone and shunned by those who they once ruled.

After millennia in solitude, the planet’s people outgrew the lust for war, and instead achieved a united society. They would create marvels of science, delving into areas of discovery about which most races could only dream. They would take imagination and make it reality, with an effortlessness that an outside observer might mistake for magic. Alone, they would take one of the most savage worlds in existence, and turn it into paradise.

Then, suddenly, it was no more.

The world died, and all of its grand accomplishments and fantastic history were scattered and lost. Its legacy would be sought by those who could not understand it, and upheld by the last of a doomed race.

All know how that race died.

Few know how they lived.

This is the final chapter of that great planet, and the extraordinary people who made it so.

These are the last days of Krypton.

 

[Andy C.]

Chapter I:​

“We’re about thirty klicks out from the survey team’s ship. We should be there in just under three minutes. Are you absolutely certain you do not wish to wait for your backup, Magistrate?”

Zor-El grinned as he heard his assistant’s hesitant voice over the shipboard comm. Kya had an excellent mind for the intricacies of administration, and was more technologically adept than the average Kryptonian, but she did not seem to have much of a stomach for adventure. In fact, he would have bet that before being assigned to his office, she had never even left her home borough of Argo City. Zor would have to set out to change that.

“Backup won’t be here for hours, Kya,” he said loudly, the airship’s cabin small enough that he could speak from the rear hold to the cockpit without using the comm. “If the team on the ground is in danger, then that’s time we don’t need to be wasting. I want to make sure we know exactly what the situation is by the time Van-Gar catches up with us.”

“Understood, Magistrate,” Kya said, making a point to use the comm rather than raise her voice. “I just don’t think it is a good idea for you to go out there alone, especially since we don’t even know what happened. There could be any sort of danger down there.”

“Kya, first of all, please just call me Zor--titles make me cringe outside of the office. Secondly, I’ve been in hundreds of dangerous situations in my life, with years of survival training. I can handle whatever the situation may be. And even if I can’t, well,” he chuckled, “it’s a good thing help is already on the way.”

“If you say so, Mag--err, Zor.”

As Kya turned her attention back to navigating the airship, Zor-El went back to strapping on the pieces of his Crisis Suit, a self-contained unit designed to protect the wearer from the harsher elements of Krypton’s wild regions, as well as augment the wearer’s strength and endurance in the case of emergency.

This particular suit was a prototype, designed by his brother Jor-El, and the concept was rather unorthodox--much like the rest of Jor‘s inventions. He had been experimenting with the idea for some time, based off of their race’s hyper-conductivity toward certain forms of radiation. Rather than just strap on bulky plates and waste power on energy shields like the old Warsuits from ancient days, Jor’s model directed a high-intensity flow of stored solar radiation into the wearer’s body. The result was a stronger, faster, more capable Kryptonian who would also be more maneuverable than the ungainly old armor suits.

Of course, that was all in theory. This particular mission would be the suit’s trial run.

Three weeks ago, there had been a massive ground quake on the southern continent, way out on the fringes of the Argonian frontier. While no one had been hurt, the growing concern was that it may have re-awakened the dormant volcanic fields, which were close to some of the outlying settlements. Zor-El had commissioned a geological survey team to go out from the academy in Argo City and see whether or not there was any immediate danger to the settlers. Three days after arriving, the team ceased all communication, save for the automated distress beacon that triggered five days later. Zor wanted to find out what happened to them himself.

“Nav-computer has locked on to the academy ship’s location. Touching down in one minute, Zor.”

This was not simply a matter of personal pride for him, nor was it to gain standing with his citizens after having just recently been elected Magistrate of Argo City. Zor-El wanted to go on his own because he had the best chance of finding the team. Before starting a career in politics, he was a member of Krypton’s most elite protectors: the Sapphire Guard. Answering only to the Council, they were trained to deal with virtually any situation that local authorities could not handle. While that was usually interpreted by the public as meaning they were purely military--perhaps more so than Zor would have liked to admit--the Sapphire Guard were also scholars, diplomats, negotiators, and scores of other roles meant to preserve peace and prosperity for all of their planet. Zor-El specialized in search-and-rescue, and during his time on the Guard, he was the best in his field.

“Touching down in three…two…one…”

Zor-El’s airship--a sleek, golden, fish-like pod he had named the Sojourn-- descended towards the craggy surface, its long sweeping fins folding up gracefully and allowing the landing struts to lower, before finally setting down alongside the larger, bulkier, and seemingly abandoned academy ship.

“Good luck, Zor,” Kya said as she lowered the ramp in the ship’s rear. “I’ll keep the comm lines open, so if you need anything--”

“Thank you, Kya. If you don’t hear back from me within the hour, call Van-Gar and let him know to prepare six emergency pods instead of five.”

With that, Zor-El put on his helmet and stepped out onto the surface.

This particular region of the continent had been relatively untouched by Zor’s people. The planet was simply so vast, that even after thousands of years of development and expansion, Kryptonians still had not needed to venture out very far into the massive frontier territories. Most were content to live in one of the eleven major city-states, especially after the advent of tesseract technology made it possible to house several thousand households in structures that were no bigger on the outside than his ship. Still, there were many who preferred the adventure and excitement to be found out on the frontier.

Zor-El looked around the survey team’s campsite, and saw nothing showing signs of foul play or sudden disaster. All of the main relay equipment was still in place, as was the perimeter defense grid to keep out threats like hrakkas--vicious, flesh-eating reptiles that hunted in packs and could survive even the harshest climates. As he entered the team’s ship, scaring off the few kanga-rats that were scavenging the food supplies, he noticed that the field scanner and a few excavators were missing.

He approached the ship’s bridge, and accessed the one computer terminal that was still active while the ship was on auxiliary power. He logged in to the system, his political clearance overriding the computer’s security protocols, and pulled up the team’s log.

DAY 3:

After reaching towards the epicenter, we conducted a deep-wave scan of the local crust, and could find no fault line. The ground quake was apparently not tectonic in nature, meaning that it seems to have been caused by the recent volcanic activity, not the reverse as we had initially expected. Combined with yesterday’s spectral analysis which gave us faint traces of an unknown radiation from beneath the crust, and the situation seems even more strange. Today we will attempt to excavate some ore samples from the lower crust at Site 2, and see if there is any direct correlation.


That was it. No word of emergency, no suspicion of further quakes or eruptions. They had gathered several dozens of pages of crude data, which he could unfortunately not determine. He would have to let Jor or someone else at the academy look for any extra meaning from that. In the meantime, he still had missing people to find.

“Computer,” he said, uplinking the ship’s AI to the smaller module in his suit, “give me the location of Site 2.”

SITE 2: 3.47 north-by-northeast, along the Yu-Sen Ravine. Due to the recent volcanic activity, Site-2 has been cut off by lava flow.

Zor-El sighed. This had just gotten a good deal more complicated

 

[Andy C.]

Chapter II:
​

This is just getting more complicated.

Jor-El let out an exasperated sigh, the intricate webs of equations displayed before him growing all but inscrutable.

The better part of the last ten years had been spent in this chamber, the laboratory that was his home away from home. Blue struts with golden trim held up a translucent crystalline ceiling, through which he could observe the stars and study the asteroid belt which had surrounded Krypton ever since its moon was destroyed. The metallic walls were coated with a thin layer of sunstone crystal, which projected data readouts as Jor needed them. All about the lab were quantum field generators, fusion cells, dimensional membrane augers, and a dozen more of Jor-El's inventions.

So far, however, not one of them had been the key to what he was hoping to find. Ten years now, he had been pouring himself into his life's work, yet every day success seemed further and further away.

Thousands of years ago, the ancients had been able to stretch their empire across galaxies, all with the help of the vaunted Star Drive. It was the most powerful faster-than-light propulsion system known by virtually any sentient species, and even the most modern alien races could only ape its design.

Unfortunately, the secrets of the Star Drive were long lost, along with countless other near-miraculous technologies, when the First Academy was destroyed during the Days of Fury. Over the centuries, other great minds tried and failed to rediscover the forgotten Drive, and all other forms of space travel were made impossible by the nearly impenetrable asteroid field that kept them planet-bound. So most of the scientific community turned their attentions back towards Krypton itself, and became content with making life better on the planet around them.

Jor-El, though, longed to go out among the stars.

"Kelex," he spoke out loud to the lab's self-contained AI system, "alter M-field projection by 33.8 degrees, then run simulation L-16."

Complying, Master Jor-El, the AI responded.

SIMULATION BEGINS...power cells online, all systems nominal. Drive spooling up...M-Field achieved. Projecting into interdimensional membrane...

Jor listened to the simulated experiment with mixed amounts of excitement and anxiety. If his current theories were correct, the ancients' Star Drive may have involved projection into extra-dimensional space, rather than simply forcing its way through lightspeed.

Attempting M-Field transfer into next harmonic wavelength....WARNING: Interdimensional rift occurring.

He slammed his fist down onto his desk, letting out what would have been a swear word if he hadn't been too frustrated to pronounce it.

WARNING: Rift has overtaken M-field projector--rift is now stabilizing...rift is now stable. Potential portal is now fully formed....SIMULATION ENDS.

Jor-El was stunned by the sudden change in the simulated rift. It may not be the legendary Star Drive, but if the simulation was accurate...

"...then I may have just created a doorway to another dimension..."

All data concludes that as the most likely possibility, Master Jor-El. Of course, this is all still purely theoretical without hard evidence from an actual field test.

"Of course, Kelex, thank you. Contact Professor Non about this development--he'll most definitely want to hear about it."

As you command, Master Jor-El. ATTENTION--Incoming Transmission from the Magistrate of Argo City.

An amused grin spread across Jor-El's face. His big brother couldn't have picked a better time to call.

"Open the comm-link," he said, and the holographic interface displaying his usual equations was replaced by the somewhat stern face of Zor-El. He always did get so serious when he was out on a mission of some sort.

"Zor, you won't believe what I've just discovered!"

"I can't wait to hear about it, Jor, but I've called you because I need your help. I've recovered the readouts of a geological survey team that's gone missing in the frontiers, and I can't make any sense out of their findings. I still need to search for the missing team, but I need you to process the raw data and see what it means. Can you do it, brother?"

"Of course, but--"

"I've got to get back to the search now, Jor. We'll talk when I'm done here."

The transmission ended, and Jor felt more than a little annoyed. Zor was usually a patient, jovial sort of man, but could be unbearably terse when he believed that his own business took the greater importance. Still, he knew that once his brother was back in Argo, he'd be back to his usual grinning, witty self.

Displaying survey team's data now...

Jor-El's area of expertise was applied quantum physics, but like the rest of the faculty at the Second Academy, he was still well-versed in most other areas of study, including geology. He perused the data, and almost immediately found something very wrong about it.

"Kelex," he said with a hint of worry, "check the calculations here for any possible error."

No errors found, Master-Jor-El.

"This doesn't match up with any regular volcanic or tectonic activity. I'm going to have to take my time working this one out..."

******

Three hours later, the door opened for Professor Non. The large, bearded man found Jor-El at his desk, staring blankly at the holo-display, almost completely still except for his shaking hands.

"Jor? Jor-El, it's me. Can you hear me?" he said, trying to get the man to break his gaze from the screen.

"Three years," was all he could manage.

"Three years until what?"

Jor-El turned his widened eyes to his colleague. His skin was almost completely pale, save for the streaks of tears that still clung to his cheeks.

"Jor-El...three years...until what?"

"....the end of the world."​

 

[Bren]

This sounds great! Can't wait for the next...

 

[Andy C.]

Chapter III:​

It started, as always, with a dream.

Not a prophecy of doom or anything along such extreme lines, but nonetheless an image created by the unrestrained mind. The image would stir the mind, the mind would guide the hand, the hand would move the brush, the brush would mark the canvas, and the canvas would hold the image.

Most of Lara's best work had been inspired by her dreams.

She was alone in her studio, working on what was essentially a sketch for a much larger piece for her upcoming exhibition in the Kandor Institute of the Arts. Swirling ribbons of golden light piercing through a field of deep violet--like sunlight seen from underwater. In the center, a translucent female form lilted gracefully, as if dancing with herself, an aura of white emanating from within. This near angelic beauty would seem to be in perfect bliss...were it not for the glittering blue tears that streaked down her face.

Lara knew that her work here would go largely unnoticed; for the exhibition itself, she would use a psionic-imager to shape the vision into a three dimensional wonder, the centerpiece of the display. Manual painting was an increasingly rare and antiquated art, but one she enjoyed far more than the mind-show that would dazzle her patrons. Imagining beauty was all well and good, but actually creating it was her real passion.

"It's getting closer," she said after a few long hours of agonizing over the proper shading. She then looked at her color palette, which was starting to run dry. "I suppose getting more of the right pigments would be a good enough excuse to get out of the room for a little while."

After cleaning up her workspace a bit, she stepped out of her studio and into the main foyer of the artists' commune she called home.

Lara smiled at some of the other tenants of this rather avant-garde place, all self-styled pioneers of the subconscience. Ky-Ar was pacing up and down the main walkway, reciting poetry to himself that was still under construction. Vel-Wi and Yon-Tu were feeding each other lines for a scathing satire aimed at the older members of the Council. The door to Mor-Da's room was open, and sparks flew out of it as he went at his sunstone sculptures with a torch. They had come from all different walks of life, but over time she had come to know them as family...especially after having been estranged from her real one.

"I'm going out to the market district. Does anyone need anything?"

She pulled up her notepad and quickly jotted down the handful of food orders, ignoring the couple of somewhat more crude requests, then headed out the door. Lara took in the sights and sounds of Kandor. Gleaming spires that reached up into the blue-and-violet sky, reflecting back the red light of the planet's sun. Aircars and landskiffs criss-crossed in some twenty-odd layers of traffic above her. The walkways were as packed as usual with people, most hurrying to wherever the day took them. As for Lara, she preferred to take her time, and enjoy being able to observe the bustle of city life.

She had barely made it two blocks from the commune when the bomb went off.​