A.N. I've started a Harry Potter fic! My first one ever! So if you would take the time, please go check it out. Thanks.
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Chapter 15
Clark had experienced fear in more forms than he cared to remember. He had faced creatures capable of tearing apart planets, witnessed the destruction of entire cities, and stood against enemies who knew exactly how to exploit his weaknesses. He was familiar with the fear of losing control over a situation, particularly when there were innocent people depending on him.
What Bardock had done, however, was something he had never experienced quite so directly. For several seconds, his body had simply refused to obey him. There had been no physical restraints, no Kryptonite, and no telepathic voice attempting to force its way into his thoughts. Bardock had looked at him, his eyes flashing green, and every instinct Clark possessed had told him that moving would be an extraordinarily bad idea.
He'd remained conscious throughout it. He could see Lobo talking, hear the wind blowing across the Nevada desert and feel the sunlight against his skin, but he couldn't convince his muscles to respond. When he'd first attempted to move, his body had resisted him with such force that he might as well have been trying to lift a mountain without using his arms.
The sensation reminded him of the brief moments before a particularly dangerous enemy struck, when his instincts recognised the threat before his conscious mind had caught up. Ordinarily, he could overcome that hesitation through experience. This time, the warning had been so overwhelming that his body had treated it as an order.
Bardock had already demonstrated the technique during his visit to Mount Justice. Black Canary's report described how he'd rendered the Team temporarily incapable of moving, using nothing more than his presence and a deliberate release of what he called killing intent. Dinah had compared the sensation to finding herself within striking distance of an exceptionally dangerous predator. She'd also been quite clear that the experience was unpleasant, particularly for the younger members of the Team, and Bardock had accepted her criticism. Clark had understood her description intellectually. Experiencing it himself was another matter.
Fortunately, he had considerably more experience dealing with fear than the young heroes did. He forced himself to concentrate on what he could control, beginning with his breathing. The pressure remained, but he recognised it for what it was rather than allowing it to dictate his actions. Gradually, his fingers responded, followed by his arms and legs. Within a few more seconds, he was able to move freely again, though a lingering tension remained in his muscles. He drew a deep breath and looked towards the two figures fighting below him.
He wasn't particularly angry with Bardock. The Saiyan had warned him to stay out of the fight, and Clark knew enough about his temperament to understand that the warning hadn't been an empty one. Bardock could be reasonable, even friendly, under ordinary circumstances. Once somebody initiated a fight with him, however, reasoning became considerably less effective. Clark had seen the same trait in Goku during the stories Bardock told about his family, although Bardock's version seemed to come with a greater willingness to hold a grudge. Lobo had attacked him, endangered civilians and then insisted on continuing the fight after being given a chance to leave. Clark couldn't reasonably expect the Saiyan to accept a handshake and an apology after all that.
The problem was that Lobo was almost certainly incapable of offering either.
Another tremendous impact shook the desert as Bardock drove his fist into the Czarnian's stomach. Lobo doubled over, blood spraying from his mouth, before retaliating with a wild hook that Bardock avoided by leaning a few inches to the side. The Saiyan answered with three rapid punches to the ribs and a fourth to the jaw, each strike landing before Lobo had properly recovered from the previous one. The final blow lifted the bounty hunter off his feet and sent him skidding across the hard-packed earth.
Clark descended until his boots touched the ground, keeping a safe distance from the fight. A wide stretch of desert had already been stripped of loose sand by the shockwaves from their earlier exchanges. What remained was a shallow basin of exposed rock and compacted soil, marked by broken ridges where their impacts had fractured the ground. Clark could feel the vibrations through his feet whenever Bardock landed another punch. None had struck him directly, but he had fought enough powerful opponents to recognise how much force the Saiyan was using.
Lobo was getting a thorough beating. Unfortunately, that wasn't necessarily going to stop him. The Czarnian pushed himself upright with a laugh, spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. His nose had been broken several times already, but it was straightening itself again. The swelling around his eyes receded while Clark watched, and the cuts along his cheeks closed without leaving a mark.
"HAW! Now that's what I'm talkin' about!" Lobo roared. "Come on, ya little bastich! The Main Man ain't even warmed up yet!"
Bardock didn't answer. He stepped inside Lobo's reach and struck him beneath the chin, forcing his head backwards, then drove an elbow into his chest. Lobo attempted to grab him around the waist, but the Saiyan shifted his weight and sent the much larger alien over his shoulder. Clark recognised the throw as a fairly conventional judo technique, although he'd never seen it performed against somebody of Lobo's size with so little effort. Bardock followed the movement with a downward kick that buried the Czarnian another metre into the ground.
Clark winced.
Bardock was enjoying himself less than he usually did during a fight. Clark had sparred with him often enough to recognise the difference, even if he'd declined the offer of being trained. Normally, the Saiyan liked testing an opponent, studying their reactions and allowing them opportunities to demonstrate their abilities. He could spend an entire session discussing the mechanics of a single punch, and he seemed to take genuine pleasure in seeing someone improve. There was little of that patience in his movements now. He was attacking with precise, controlled strikes, but he wasn't giving Lobo much opportunity to recover between them.
The bounty hunter had apparently decided that his best option was to get his hands on the smaller man. He lunged from the crater, swinging both arms in an attempt to catch Bardock in a crushing bear hug. Bardock slipped beneath the first arm and struck him in the ribs, but Lobo managed to seize his jacket with the other hand. For a moment, the two struggled at close quarters, Lobo attempting to use his considerable weight to drag his opponent down. Then the Czarnian noticed the brown tail moving behind Bardock's waist.
Clark recognised the look that crossed his face. "Oh, no," he muttered.
Lobo's hand shot out and closed around the tail. "Gotcha, ya hairy little shit!"
Bardock stopped moving.
Clark had heard him discuss Saiyan tails during one of their conversations. When they first met, Clark had assumed the appendage was largely decorative, perhaps useful for balance but otherwise little different from an ordinary animal's tail. Bardock had corrected him. Saiyan tails were remarkably strong, and in an adult warrior who had properly trained one, they could function as another limb. They also had a significant vulnerability that could prove dangerous to an inexperienced Saiyan. Gripping the tail near its base could overwhelm the nervous system and leave its owner temporarily helpless.
That weakness could be trained away. Bardock had been quite amused when Clark asked whether somebody might exploit it against him.
Now Lobo was about to discover why. The Czarnian gave the tail a vicious pull. Bardock's expression didn't change, but the appendage tightened around Lobo's wrist with enough force to make the enormous alien grunt in surprise.
"The frag—?"
Before he could finish, Bardock twisted his hips and used the tail to yank Lobo off balance. The Czarnian's feet left the ground as the Saiyan swung him in a wide arc and slammed him into the earth. The impact cracked the exposed rock beneath them, but Bardock wasn't finished. He lifted Lobo again, brought him down on the opposite side and repeated the movement several more times, battering him from left to right while the bounty hunter cursed and struggled to free his arm.
Clark watched in reluctant appreciation. Bardock hadn't moved his feet more than a few inches. His tail was doing almost all the work, demonstrating a degree of strength and coordination that Clark hadn't expected from an appendage so comparatively small.
"LEGGO, YA FRAGGIN'—!"
Lobo hit the ground again.
"—FURRY-ASS—!"
Another impact.
"—BASTICH!"
Bardock finally released him, allowing the Czarnian to roll across the ground before coming to a stop against a broken ridge of stone. Lobo tried to rise, but Bardock was already moving. He caught the bounty hunter by the front of his jacket, hauled him upright and drove a knee into his face. Several teeth scattered across the ground.
"Next time," Bardock said, "keep your hands to yourself."
Lobo spat blood at his feet. "Frag you!"
Bardock answered by stamping him into the ground. Clark sighed. This was going to take a while.
He considered intervening, but the longer he watched, the more obvious it became that Bardock had the situation under control. Lobo was dangerous, certainly, but there was an enormous difference between being able to survive an opponent's attacks and being able to defeat them. The bounty hunter possessed remarkable strength and regenerative abilities, yet his fighting style was almost entirely dependent on brute force. He swung wide, powerful punches, attempted to grapple whenever possible and showed little interest in protecting himself from counterattacks.
Against most opponents, that probably worked well enough. Lobo could endure punishment that would incapacitate or kill almost anyone else, and his strength was sufficient to overwhelm experienced fighters who lacked comparable physical abilities. Against Bardock, however, those advantages were becoming liabilities. Every time he attempted to grab the Saiyan, he left himself open to a counterattack. Every reckless punch gave Bardock an opportunity to strike somewhere vulnerable.
Clark had seen similar problems in his own fighting style before he'd started making a more deliberate effort to study martial arts. When a person was accustomed to being stronger and more durable than almost everyone they encountered, it was easy to develop habits that worked only because their opponents couldn't exploit them. Bardock had pointed out several of Clark's own weaknesses during their sparring sessions, sometimes rather bluntly.
Watching Lobo being dismantled made those lessons easier to appreciate. It also provided an uncomfortable reminder of how much punishment Bardock could deliver without apparently approaching his limits. Lobo managed to scramble upright and swung a punch that would have shattered the side of a mountain. Bardock caught his wrist, stepped past him and struck the back of his elbow, forcing the arm to bend in the wrong direction. The Czarnian screamed an obscenity, but the injury was already repairing itself when Bardock released him. He retaliated with a headbutt, which Bardock met with one of his own.
The resulting crack echoed across the desert. Lobo staggered backwards. Bardock barely moved.
"Ya got a thick skull, kid!" Lobo growled.
"So I've been told."
"Think yer funny, huh?"
"Funnier than you."
Lobo roared and charged again. Clark folded his arms and watched as Bardock sidestepped the attack, caught the bounty hunter by the back of his jacket and hurled him across the clearing. Lobo struck the ground, bounced twice and rolled to a stop in a cloud of dust. By the time he stood up, his injuries had already healed. That seemed to be what irritated Bardock most.
Clark had noticed the change several exchanges earlier. Each time Lobo recovered from an injury, Bardock struck him a little harder. It wasn't an uncontrolled escalation, but there was an unmistakable impatience developing in his movements. The Saiyan had apparently decided that the bounty hunter's regeneration was an inconvenience rather than an interesting challenge. For someone who enjoyed testing himself against powerful opponents, Bardock could be surprisingly intolerant of enemies who refused to stay down.
"Lobo," Clark called, raising his voice enough to be heard over the fighting, "you've made your point. You know you can't take him. Surrender before this gets any worse."
The Czarnian turned his head towards him. "Shove it up yer ass, Supes! The Main Man don't surrender!"
Bardock struck him in the stomach while he was distracted. Lobo doubled over, and the Saiyan followed with an uppercut that sent him several metres into the air.
Clark shook his head. "That's what I thought."
He could have intervened physically. There was little doubt that he possessed the strength to separate them, at least temporarily. But doing so would almost certainly have made him another participant in the fight, and he wasn't interested in giving Bardock a reason to turn his attention towards him again. One battle was already enough. More importantly, he couldn't overlook the fact that Lobo had attacked a civilian settlement without provocation.
Clark had spent enough time dealing with the bounty hunter to understand that he wasn't particularly concerned about collateral damage. Lobo would happily level an entire neighbourhood if he believed it might help him capture a target, and even the threat of arrest rarely discouraged him. Keeping him occupied in an empty stretch of Nevada was preferable to allowing him to resume his pursuit somewhere populated.
Clark had already checked the surrounding area with his enhanced senses. The nearest settlement was far enough away that the immediate fighting posed little danger, and the road running through the desert carried very little traffic. He'd heard a vehicle pass several kilometres to the north, but it was moving away from them. As long as Bardock continued keeping the battle contained, there was no immediate reason to escalate matters.
He still intended to bring Lobo into custody. He simply needed the Czarnian to stop trying to get himself beaten into the ground first. Lobo landed heavily, rolled onto his back and laughed. His jacket was badly torn, and one of the metal studs had been driven into his shoulder. He pulled it free, tossed it aside and pushed himself upright.
"All right, ya little shit! Enough o' this fancy-pants kung-fu crap!"
Bardock raised an eyebrow. "Kung fu?"
"Yeah! All that dodgin' an' twistin' an' sneaky little wrist-flippin' bullshit! Stand still an' fight like a real bastich!"
"I am fighting."
"Then quit movin'!"
Clark almost smiled. Lobo reached behind his back and produced a bulky weapon Clark hadn't noticed earlier. It resembled a heavily modified shotgun, although the barrel was divided into several smaller chambers and the ammunition housing contained a series of cylindrical cartridges. Clark recognised the device almost immediately. He'd seen Lobo use it before.
"Bardock, watch out!" he called. "That's a restraint weapon!"
Lobo swung the gun towards the Saiyan. "Too late, Boy Scout!"
The weapon discharged with a series of heavy mechanical thumps. Several dark projectiles shot towards Bardock, leaving short trails of smoke behind them. He shifted his stance and avoided the first two, but the remaining rounds changed direction slightly in flight and struck his chest and shoulders.
They were not conventional bullets. Each projectile expanded on impact, releasing a sticky, translucent organism that clung to the surface of Bardock's clothing. The creatures spread rapidly, linking together across his torso and arms. Their bodies began pulsing with a pale blue light, and arcs of electricity jumped between them as the weapon's containment system activated.
Lobo burst into laughter. "HAW! Gotcha! How d'ya like them apples, ya hairy little freak?"
Bardock looked down at himself. The creatures were still spreading, their adhesive bodies attempting to immobilise his arms. Electricity crackled across his chest, intensifying as more of the slugs connected with one another. Clark recognised the technology as a particularly unpleasant example of Lobo's ingenuity. The organisms were bred to attach themselves to a target and deliver repeated electrical discharges, making it difficult for most beings to concentrate long enough to remove them.
Lobo had once used a similar device against a group of Thanagarian mercenaries. They hadn't enjoyed the experience.
"Those things can deliver enough current to incapacitate a—" Clark began.
Bardock shrugged. The electricity continued crackling harmlessly across his body. He examined one of the creatures attached to his shoulder, then looked at Lobo with an expression of mild disgust.
"Are these slugs?"
"Specially bred, ya dumb bastich! Little suckers'll keep fryin' ya till yer brains come outta yer ears!"
"They're disgusting."
"Yeah, ain't they beautiful?"
Bardock released a small pulse of energy. The slugs vanished. There was no explosion, no dramatic flare of light and no elaborate technique. One moment the creatures were attached to his body; the next, they had been reduced to ash by a brief release of ki that left his clothes almost entirely unharmed.
Lobo stared. "Aw, frag."
Bardock was already moving. He closed the distance between them and struck the bounty hunter directly in the mouth. The force of the punch sent Lobo backwards, tearing the weapon from his grip. Bardock caught the gun before it hit the ground, examined it briefly and crushed the barrel between his fingers. Metal folded with an ugly screech.
"Hey! That thing cost me good money!"
Bardock tossed the ruined weapon aside. "Send me the bill."
Then he punched Lobo again. Clark watched the Czarnian fly across the desert and disappear into a low ridge of stone. A moment later, fragments of rock burst upwards as Lobo came charging back, roaring obscenities. He was apparently past the point of caring whether his attacks had any chance of success. That wasn't unusual for him.
Lobo had always possessed a peculiar relationship with danger. He seemed happiest when somebody was trying to kill him, and the prospect of encountering a stronger opponent rarely discouraged him. If anything, it made him more enthusiastic. Clark suspected that the bounty hunter's regenerative abilities had contributed to that attitude. When almost nothing could inflict lasting damage, recklessness became considerably easier to justify.
Unfortunately, the combination of recklessness and an almost complete lack of concern for other people made Lobo one of the most troublesome individuals Clark had ever encountered. He'd been relieved to learn that the Czarnian wasn't on Earth specifically to cause trouble with him. That relief had lasted approximately three seconds.
Bardock intercepted Lobo's charge with a kick to the chest that stopped him dead. The ground cracked beneath the Saiyan's feet, but he barely shifted position. He followed with a rapid combination of punches, striking the Czarnian's stomach, ribs and jaw before sweeping his legs out from beneath him.
Lobo hit the ground on his back. Bardock seized him by the front of his jacket and dragged him towards the road. Clark frowned. There was a narrow strip of asphalt running through the desert a few hundred metres away. It was an ordinary two-lane road, with a low concrete curb bordering a drainage channel on one side. Clark had checked it earlier and knew there were no vehicles approaching, but he couldn't imagine why Bardock wanted to move the fight there.
Then he saw the Saiyan stop beside the curb.
"Oh, come on," Clark muttered.
Bardock forced Lobo down onto his knees. The Czarnian struggled, cursing and swinging his arms, but Bardock caught him by the back of the head and pushed his face towards the concrete. Lobo's mouth struck the edge of the curb, leaving his teeth pressed against the hard surface.
"Know what your problem is?" Bardock asked. Lobo's answer was muffled. Bardock didn't appear to care. "You talk too much."
He stamped on the back of Lobo's head. The impact cracked the concrete and sent fragments of broken teeth scattering across the road. Lobo's body went rigid for a moment before collapsing sideways, his face striking the asphalt. Clark winced despite himself. He'd seen considerably worse injuries during his career, but there was something particularly unpleasant about watching somebody deliberately drive another man's mouth into a curb.
"Bardock!" The Saiyan looked up. Clark approached them, his expression firm. "That's enough. He's beaten, and you know it."
Bardock glanced down at Lobo. The bounty hunter was already beginning to recover. "Doesn't look beaten to me."
"He's not going to stop just because you keep hitting him."
"I noticed that."
Clark gestured towards the damaged road. "Then let's stop doing this. You've made it clear he can't defeat you. We need to find out who hired him, and we won't accomplish that by spending the afternoon smashing him into the pavement."
Bardock considered him for a moment. Then he released Lobo's head and stepped away. Clark was beginning to think he'd finally managed to persuade him. Unfortunately, Lobo chose that moment to get up. The Czarnian spat a mouthful of broken teeth onto the road, watched several replacements grow into place and began laughing. His face was a bloody mess, but he seemed almost delighted by the amount of punishment he'd received.
"HAW! That's more like it! Ain't had a proper scrap like this in ages!" He wiped his mouth and glared at Bardock. "But yer gonna have ta do better'n that, punk! The Main Man don't stay down!"
Clark closed his eyes briefly. Of course he didn't.
Bardock turned towards him again. "See?"
Clark sighed. "Unfortunately."
Lobo rolled his shoulders and grinned. "What's the matter, Supes? Ya worried yer little buddy's gonna hurt himself? Don't sweat it. Lobo'll send him home in a nice little box when we're done."
Bardock stared at him. Then, quite unexpectedly, he smiled. Clark recognised that expression. He'd seen it before during training, usually when the Saiyan had worked out how to exploit a weakness in his opponent's technique. It rarely meant anything good for the person facing him.
"Actually." Bardock said, "I think I know exactly how to hurt you."
Lobo threw back his head and laughed. "HAW! Good luck with that, ya little bastich! Only another Czarnian can kill the Main Man, an' there ain't no more Czarnians! Know why?"
Bardock folded his arms. "Let me guess. You annoyed them all to death."
"Wrong!" Lobo jabbed a thumb towards his chest. "I killed 'em! Every last fraggin' one! Whole planet full o' the smug bastiches, an' I wiped 'em out myself! So unless ya got another Czarnian stuffed up yer ass, yer shit outta luck!"
Clark had heard that story before. Whether every detail was true was another matter, but Lobo had never shown any remorse over the destruction of his own species. He treated the subject as another accomplishment to boast about, usually while drinking heavily and looking for an excuse to fight somebody. It was one of the reasons Clark found him so difficult to understand.
He had spent most of his life mourning a world he'd never known, carrying the knowledge that Krypton's civilisation had been destroyed before he was old enough to remember it. Lobo had apparently destroyed his own homeworld and considered the matter something worth celebrating. Clark had long since stopped trying to find any reasonable explanation for that.
Bardock, however, didn't seem particularly interested in the details. "Who said anything about killing you?"
Lobo blinked. "Eh?"
"I said I know how to hurt you." The Saiyan placed two fingers against his forehead.
Clark recognised the gesture immediately. "Wait, Bardock, what are you—"
He vanished. Lobo looked around, his expression shifting from amusement to confusion. "The frag?"
Clark scanned the surrounding area with his senses, but Bardock was gone. His tangible energy signature had disappeared from the immediate vicinity, suggesting he'd teleported a considerable distance away. Of course, Clark couldn't sense energy the way Bardock could but it was easy to tell when the Saiyan was around, except when Bardock was being purposefully discreet. Something in the air would give it away. Clark could only guess where he'd gone, although he suspected the answer would become apparent shortly.
Lobo scratched his head. "Well, ain't that a load o' crap. Little bastard ran away!"
"He'll be back," Clark said.
"Yeah? Better hurry up, then! I got places ta be, an' I ain't wastin' all day chasin' some yellow-bellied punk around this mudball!"
Clark looked at him. "You're really not very bright, are you?"
Lobo grinned. "Bright enough ta get paid, Boy Scout."
There was another displacement of air. Bardock reappeared a short distance away, carrying something enormous over one shoulder. Clark stared. It was Lobo's motorcycle. The machine was almost as large as a small car, its heavy frame covered in polished metal, elaborate modifications and oversized engines. Flames flickered briefly from the rear thrusters before Bardock set it down on the road, holding it upright with one hand.
Lobo stopped smiling. For the first time since Clark had arrived, the bounty hunter looked genuinely worried.
"Hey." Bardock didn't answer. "Hey! What the frag ya doin' with my Hog?!"
The Saiyan examined the motorcycle with an expression of mild interest. He ran a hand along the bodywork, inspecting the polished metal and the elaborate paint job. Clark could see that Lobo had put considerable effort into maintaining the machine, despite the generally filthy condition of its owner. The bike was covered in modifications, but the paintwork was immaculate.
Bardock looked up. "Nice bike."
Lobo's eyes narrowed. "Yeah. She's a beauty, ain't she? So how 'bout ya put her down nice an' easy, an' we forget this whole little misunderstanding?"
Clark almost laughed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard Lobo use such a comparatively reasonable tone.
Bardock smiled. "Actually, I was thinking of making a few improvements."
Lobo went pale. Which, given his complexion, was quite an accomplishment. "What kinda improvements?"
Bardock reached behind his back. There was a brief movement as he drew his sword, the heavy Katchin blade emerging from its sheath with a low metallic sound. Clark recognised it immediately. He'd handled the weapon once during one of their training sessions and had been surprised by its extraordinary weight. Bardock had explained that it was forged from a material so dense and durable that even powerful beings found it difficult to damage. The blade was broad, slightly curved and sharpened along one edge, with a forward-sweeping profile that made it well suited to heavy cutting strikes.
Bardock rested the tip against the motorcycle's fuel tank.
Lobo froze. "Don't."
The word came out considerably quieter than anything he'd said during the fight.
Bardock tilted his head. "Don't what?"
"Don't you fraggin' dare."
The Saiyan examined the blade. "I was thinking a few scratches might improve the appearance. Give it a bit of character."
"Character?!" Lobo's voice rose sharply. "That's custom paint, ya hairy little shit! Do ya have any idea how much work went inta gettin' that finish right?!"
Clark watched with growing disbelief. Lobo had shrugged off broken bones, shattered teeth and injuries that would have killed most living beings. He'd laughed through a beating that had left the surrounding desert looking like a battlefield. Now he was panicking over his motorcycle.
Bardock shifted the blade slightly. The edge moved a fraction of an inch across the painted surface. Lobo made a noise that Clark had never heard him make before. It sounded remarkably like a whimper.
"STOP!"
Bardock paused. "Something wrong?"
"Ya scratch that paint, I'm gonna-"
Bardock pressed the blade a little harder. "You're going to what?"
Lobo swallowed. Clark couldn't believe what he was seeing. The Czarnian's enormous hands opened and closed at his sides, and his eyes moved rapidly between Bardock's face and the sword resting against his beloved machine. He looked ready to attack, but every time he shifted his weight forwards, Bardock moved the blade another fraction of an inch. Finally, Lobo raised both hands.
"All right! All right, ya crazy little bastich! Just keep that fraggin' sword away from my baby!"
Bardock regarded him calmly. "Drop the contract."
Lobo hesitated. Bardock moved the blade.
"FINE! FRAGGIN' FINE!" Lobo shouted. "I'll drop the contract! I'll tell the client ta shove the whole damn bounty up their ass! Just don't scratch the Hog!"
Bardock didn't move. "And you'll leave Earth."
"Yeah, yeah! I'll leave yer stupid mudball!"
"And you won't attack any more civilians. Or come after me again."
Lobo looked as though somebody had asked him to swallow a live porcupine. "Aw, come on! That's takin' all the fun outta-" Bardock began drawing the blade across the fuel tank. "ALL RIGHT! NO MORE CHASIN' YA! HAPPY?!"
"Very."
The Saiyan lifted the sword away from the motorcycle and returned it to its sheath. Lobo immediately rushed forwards, practically throwing himself over the machine as he inspected the paintwork. He ran his hands along the fuel tank, checked the engine housing and examined the front fairing for scratches. Clark stood beside Bardock, watching the spectacle with an expression he couldn't quite control.
"Well," he said eventually, "that's one way to settle it."
Bardock shrugged. "Everybody's got something they care about."
"I suppose so."
"He's practically indestructible, but he loves that motorcycle more than his own skin. Seemed obvious enough."
Clark glanced towards Lobo, who was still muttering affectionately to the machine while polishing an imaginary blemish from the fuel tank. He couldn't argue with the result. It was probably the first time he'd ever seen Lobo surrender without somebody threatening him with a weapon capable of destroying a planet.
Clark stepped forwards. "Lobo."
The Czarnian looked up. "What now, Supes? Ain't ya seen enough o' the Main Man gettin' his ass kicked fer one day?"
"I want the contract."
Lobo groaned. "Aw, frag me. Can't a guy have five minutes ta make sure his baby's all right?"
"Now."
The bounty hunter glared at him, then reached inside his torn jacket and began rummaging through the various pockets. He produced a collection of ammunition cartridges, a small flask, what appeared to be several alien teeth and a handful of loose credits before finally locating the object Clark wanted.
It was a tablet. At least, Clark assumed it had once been a tablet. The device was badly damaged, its casing cracked and partially held together by several strips of heavy tape. One corner had been smashed, and the screen flickered intermittently as Lobo attempted to activate it.
"Here," he grunted, tossing it towards Clark. "Knock yerself out."
Clark caught it carefully. The tablet was surprisingly heavy for its size, and the damage suggested it had survived considerably more abuse than its manufacturer intended. He turned it over, locating a small control switch near the edge. A hologram flickered into existence above the damaged screen. Several lines of alien text appeared, accompanied by a rotating image of Bardock. The image was unmistakable: black hair, dark eyes, brown tail and the same clothing he'd worn during his earlier activities in Asia. Beneath it was a collection of energy readings and several numerical sequences that Clark didn't immediately recognise.
He adjusted the device, attempting to bring the text into focus. The translation software struggled for a moment before producing a rough English approximation.
TARGET DESIGNATION: THE OUTSIDER
CAPTURE STATUS: DEAD OR ALIVE
CONTRACT VALUE: RESTRICTED
There were additional details, including the approximate location of Earth and several identifiers that appeared to correspond to Bardock's unusual energy signature. Clark examined them carefully, recognising some of the readings from the information Batman had collected during their earlier encounters. Whoever had issued the contract knew considerably more about Bardock than the general public.
That was troubling. Clark scrolled through the document, searching for the contractor's identity. The relevant section displayed a series of encrypted symbols, none of which corresponded to any language he recognised.
"Who's the client?" he asked.
Lobo shrugged. "Already told ya, don't know."
"There's no name attached to the contract."
"Yeah, funny how that works, ain't it? Some rich bastard wants somebody hauled in without everybody knowin' who paid fer it. Happens all the fraggin' time."
"Where did you receive it?"
"Through a broker. Standard bounty channels. Payment's held in space escrow, so I don't gotta worry about some cheap little shit stiffin' me after the job's done."
Clark frowned. "Which broker?"
Lobo named an organisation Clark vaguely recognised from previous dealings with extraterrestrial criminals. It operated across several star systems, providing contract services to bounty hunters and mercenaries. The organisation was notorious for protecting the identities of its clients, although the Green Lantern Corps had managed to infiltrate parts of its network on more than one occasion.
That gave him somewhere to start. He was about to ask another question when the tablet emitted an unpleasant electronic whine. The hologram flickered.
"Oh, come on," Clark muttered.
The display collapsed into a series of distorted symbols before disappearing entirely. A thin trail of smoke rose from the damaged casing, followed by a sharp pop as something inside the device shorted out. Clark stared at it.
Lobo scratched his chin. "Huh. Guess I shoulda used more tape."
Clark turned the tablet over, examining the damage with his enhanced vision. Several internal components had failed, and what remained of the memory system appeared to be badly corrupted. He could still see portions of the circuitry, but recovering the complete contract would require specialised equipment.
Batman might be able to salvage something. Clark hoped so. He looked towards Bardock, who had been listening quietly throughout the exchange.
"Whoever issued this knows about your energy signature and your arrival here. They also went to considerable trouble to conceal their identity."
Bardock nodded. "I noticed."
"We'll need to investigate the broker. The Lanterns may be able to help, and Batman can take a look at the tablet. Even if the contract's encrypted, there might be something in the remaining data that identifies where it originated."
"Fair enough. Though I wouldn't expect much from that thing."
Clark glanced at the ruined device. "Neither would I, but it's worth trying."
Bardock looked towards Lobo. "What about him?"
Clark considered the question. Under ordinary circumstances, he would have insisted on arresting the bounty hunter. Lobo had attacked civilians, attempted to capture Bardock and caused considerable property damage. He was also responsible for numerous crimes across several worlds, many of which were far more serious than anything he'd done that day.
Unfortunately, taking Lobo into custody was rarely straightforward. The Czarnian had escaped from facilities designed to hold beings far more dangerous than ordinary criminals, and transporting him to a secure location would require considerable preparation. Clark had no intention of allowing him to wander off without consequences, but there were practical limits to what he could accomplish immediately.
More importantly, Bardock had already extracted a promise that Lobo would abandon the contract and leave Earth. Clark wasn't convinced the bounty hunter would honour that promise indefinitely, but he suspected the threat to his motorcycle would remain fresh in his memory for some time.
"We'll let him leave," Clark said after a moment. "For now. I'll inform the Lanterns that he's been operating in this sector, and we'll follow up with the broker. If he comes back and causes trouble, we'll deal with him."
Bardock gave a small nod. "Works for me."
Lobo, who had been listening with obvious impatience, threw his hands into the air. "Well, ain't that generous! The mighty Superman says the Main Man can leave! How the frag would I manage without yer permission, ya self-righteous cape-wearin'—"
Bardock glanced towards the motorcycle. Lobo immediately shut his mouth. Clark pressed his lips together. He was beginning to think Bardock had discovered the most effective way of dealing with the bounty hunter anyone had ever managed.
Lobo climbed onto his Hog, settling into the enormous saddle with an affectionate pat against the fuel tank. The machine responded to his touch, its engines rumbling to life as flames began flickering from the rear thrusters. He adjusted the controls, checked the instruments and gave the throttle a few experimental twists. The resulting roar echoed across the desert. Clark stepped back as the bike lifted slightly off the ground.
"You're leaving the planet," he reminded him.
"Yeah, yeah. Heard ya the first time, Boy Scout. Got a whole fraggin' galaxy full o' paying customers waitin' fer the Main Man. Ain't gonna waste another minute on this dirtball."
He looked towards Bardock. His expression turned into a wide, toothy grin. "An' you, ya little hairy-ass bastich! Don't go forgettin' the name! Lobo ain't the kinda guy ya forget in a hurry!"
Bardock folded his arms. "I'll try."
Lobo straightened in the saddle, apparently deciding that the occasion demanded something more impressive than an ordinary farewell.
"That's right! Remember it good, punk! Lobo! L fer lascerate! O fer obliterate! B fer disembowel!" He paused, considering the final letter, before breaking into another grin. "An' O could be used fer obliterate again!"
There was a moment of silence. Clark stared at him.
Bardock blinked. "That doesn't work."
Lobo frowned. "The frag d'ya mean, it don't work?"
"Disembowel doesn't begin with B."
"So?"
"So your little speech doesn't make any sense."
"Aw, don't be such a fraggin' grammar Nazi! It's the thought that counts!"
Bardock gave him a flat look. "Get lost before I blow up your bike."
Lobo's expression changed instantly. "All right, all right! Fraggin' touchy little bastich!"
He twisted the throttle. The Hog's engines roared, and the machine shot forwards, trailing a stream of fire as it accelerated across the desert. Within seconds, Lobo had become a dark speck against the horizon. Then he angled the motorcycle upwards, climbed rapidly into the sky and disappeared beyond the clouds. The sound of his engines faded gradually, leaving the desert quiet again.
Clark watched the empty sky for several moments before turning towards Bardock. The Saiyan was still standing beside the road, his arms folded and his tail moving lazily behind him. His expression had returned to something approaching its usual calm, although there was a faint trace of irritation around his eyes. Clark looked at the damaged road, the fractured desert and the remnants of Lobo's weapons scattered across the ground. Then he looked back at Bardock.
"Well," he said, "that was certainly something."
Bardock shrugged. "Could've been worse."
Clark glanced towards the enormous crater where Lobo had first landed. "I'm not entirely sure how."
"He could've been another one of those idiots who doesn't know when to stop talking."
Clark raised an eyebrow. "Bardock, he didn't stop talking."
"Exactly. Imagine if there'd been two of them."
Clark couldn't help laughing. The sound surprised him. He'd spent most of the afternoon trying to prevent a fight from escalating into something that might require intervention by half the Justice League, and now he was standing in the Nevada desert laughing at a joke about a homicidal bounty hunter. It wasn't quite how he'd expected the day to unfold.
Bardock smiled faintly, apparently satisfied that the matter was settled. Clark looked down at the ruined tablet in his hand. The contract was still troubling. Somebody had offered an enormous bounty for Bardock, and the information attached to it suggested that the client possessed knowledge of the Saiyan's origins that wasn't widely available. Whoever had issued it had also chosen to employ one of the most dangerous bounty hunters in the galaxy.
That wasn't something Clark could dismiss. He would need to speak to Batman, contact the Lanterns and determine whether any other contracts had been issued through similar channels. It was possible that Lobo had genuinely eliminated every competing bounty hunter, but Clark wasn't prepared to assume that the threat had ended simply because the Czarnian had agreed to leave.
There might be others. And whoever had placed the bounty could always try again. He tucked the tablet carefully beneath his arm.
"Come on," he said. "We should get this back to the Watchtower."
Bardock glanced towards the distant mountains. "Give me a moment. I need to check on the village."
Clark nodded. "Of course."
The Saiyan placed two fingers against his forehead and vanished, leaving Clark standing alone beside the damaged road. For a moment, he considered the strange turn his life had taken since Bardock's arrival. A warrior from another reality was now spending his mornings meditating in Japanese villages, his afternoons fighting interstellar bounty hunters and his evenings discussing cosmic mysteries with gods Clark had barely begun to understand.
It was becoming increasingly difficult to imagine what the world would look like once Bardock finally found a way home. Clark looked up at the sky where Lobo had disappeared. Then he shook his head, took one last look at the damaged desert and rose into the air. There would be time to worry about that later. For now, he had a mystery to solve.
-+-
-General POV-
The damaged datapad had occupied Batman's attention for the better part of an hour, and Clark was beginning to suspect that they had already recovered everything worth finding. The device sat in the centre of a workbench in the Watchtower's laboratory, its cracked casing surrounded by the equipment Bruce had used to extract what remained of its memory. A holographic display above the bench showed fragments of the bounty contract, along with several encrypted strings that neither the Watchtower's computers nor Batman's own software had managed to identify.
Lobo had apparently used the datapad for years without once considering the possibility of replacing it. Its internal components came from at least three different manufacturers, two of which Clark recognised as suppliers of military equipment to the outer systems. Somebody had installed a third-party encryption module, although whether that had been done by Lobo or a previous owner was impossible to determine. Most of the storage had been corrupted by repeated physical damage, and what remained had been further compromised when the device shorted out in Nevada.
Batman was studying a reconstruction of the contract's transmission history when Clark returned from the communications console.
"John says the Lanterns recognise the broker," Clark told him. "They're looking into it, but he doesn't expect much. Apparently, the organisation uses intermediaries to handle the payments, and most of those intermediaries don't know who their clients are."
"I know."
"John also said they've investigated the network before. They managed to identify several clients, but only after months of surveillance. If whoever hired Lobo used the usual precautions, tracing the contract could take considerably longer."
Batman adjusted the holographic display, isolating a section of the recovered data. "The payment was transferred through six accounts before reaching the broker. Each transaction used a separate encryption protocol, and the original currency was converted twice. Whoever issued this contract went to considerable trouble to conceal the source."
"That doesn't necessarily mean they know anything about Bardock beyond what's in the file."
"The file contains an energy profile that isn't publicly available."
Clark considered that. The Watchtower's own instruments had recorded Bardock's energy during his arrival, and several League members had conducted further scans since then. There were also the readings collected by STAR Labs after the Amazo incident, along with whatever information other organisations might have obtained from the Saiyan's activities around the world.
None of that accounted for the precision of the contract's identifying information. The recovered profile included details about Bardock's energy that Clark hadn't seen in any civilian report. It distinguished between several aspects of his power, identified unusual fluctuations in his energy circulation and included a reference to his arrival from outside the local cosmology.
It also used the designation Outsider.
"Could someone have obtained the information from one of our systems?" Clark asked.
"Possibly. I'm checking."
Clark knew better than to ask whether Bruce had found evidence of a breach. If he had, they would already be discussing it.
Batman enlarged another section of the file. "There's also a problem with the contract itself. Lobo wasn't given a destination for delivery."
"Maybe the broker would have provided one after he captured the target."
"Which means the client either intended to establish contact after the capture or wasn't concerned about Lobo surviving the assignment. The contract also allowed the target to be delivered dead or alive. That's unusual when the subject possesses abilities the client might want to study."
Clark looked at the image of Bardock hovering above the damaged tablet's reconstructed display.
"Maybe they didn't expect Lobo to succeed."
"That's one possibility."
It was a troubling thought. Lobo was a capable bounty hunter despite his recklessness, and he'd fought Superman often enough to earn a reputation across several star systems. Offering an enormous reward for Bardock's capture wasn't necessarily unreasonable if the client believed the Czarnian could overpower him.
But if the client knew how powerful Bardock was, sending Lobo could have served another purpose.
Clark was about to raise that possibility when the communications system interrupted them.
"Incoming Boom Tube activation. Mount Justice origin. Recognised: Wukong."
A circular portal opened across the laboratory's designated arrival platform. Light flickered within its centre, and a moment later Bardock stepped through, carrying a small paper-wrapped parcel in one hand. He stopped when the computer repeated its identification.
"Arrival confirmed. Wukong."
Bardock looked towards the ceiling. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
Clark glanced at Batman. Bruce continued working.
Bardock approached the workbench with a distinctly unimpressed expression. "I've been asking you people to let me use the Mount Justice transport system for weeks. You finally decide I'm trustworthy enough to come aboard without somebody pointing a weapon at me, and that's the name you register me under?"
"The designation is already in widespread public use." Batman replied.
"So is Superman. You don't hear the computer announcing him as 'the dude in the red underpants', do you?"
Clark coughed into his fist.
Batman's expression remained unchanged. "Wukong is the identity under which you're publicly recognised. It's appropriate for the access registry."
"Son Bardock is a perfectly good name. I've even got identification."
"Your civilian identification isn't relevant to the security system."
"Then put in Bardock."
"That would require changing the registry."
"Yes. That's generally how changing something works."
Clark looked away before either of them noticed his smile. Bruce had spent enough time around Bardock to know precisely how much the nickname irritated him. Registering him under Wukong was entirely deliberate, and Clark suspected his friend was enjoying the exchange far more than he'd ever admit.Bardock apparently reached the same conclusion. He narrowed his eyes at the Dark Knight before giving a dismissive snort and turning his attention to the laboratory.
"Whatever. At least I don't have to teleport aboard and make your security people wet themselves anymore."
"Your arrival privileges are restricted to designated areas," Batman said. "Attempting to bypass those restrictions will result in their revocation."
"Yes, Dad. I'll be sure to behave myself." Bardock said, his voice just dripping with sarcasm. He unwrapped the parcel and took out a small round sweet dusted with starch. Clark recognised it as mochi, although this particular variety appeared to contain a sweet filling beneath the soft outer layer. "How's the investigation going?" Bardock asked, taking a bite.
"Slowly." Clark answered. "We've recovered most of the contract, but the payment trail leads through several intermediaries. The Lanterns are checking the broker, and Bruce is examining the remaining information for anything that might identify the client."
Bardock chewed thoughtfully, then held out the parcel. "Want one?"
Clark accepted a piece. "Thanks."
"One of the village ladies made them. She gave me a whole box when I went back to check on everyone. Apparently, her grandson spent most of the afternoon telling people I'd beaten up a space pirate."
"Was anyone hurt?"
"Nothing serious. A few cuts and bruises from the explosions, but I made sure nobody needed medical attention. The village headman was more worried about the motorcycle I'd left on the shore. He thought it might explode."
"Given that it belongs to Lobo, that wasn't an unreasonable concern."
"I gave it back to the big lummox. Though I'm starting to wish I'd kept it."
Clark smiled. "I think you made the right decision returning it."
Bardock offered the parcel to Batman. "Want one?"
"No."
"Your loss."
He took another mochi for himself and leaned against an unoccupied section of the workbench. Batman gave him a look, and Bardock reluctantly moved his elbow away from a collection of delicate instruments. Clark tried the sweet. It was fresh, pleasantly soft and filled with sweetened red bean paste. He'd eaten mochi before, but he was surprised by how good this one was. Bardock had mentioned the village several times, describing the people who lived there and how they'd welcomed him during his first weeks on Earth. It was good to know that he'd found somewhere he could visit without being treated as a threat.
"These are excellent," Clark said.
"Told you. She makes them herself. Wouldn't let me leave until I'd eaten three bowls of rice, half a grilled fish and enough of these to make an ordinary person sick."
"Sounds like she knows how to look after you."
"Reminds me of my aunt." There was a brief softness in Bardock's expression before he returned his attention to the holographic display. "So what have you actually found?"
Batman brought up the reconstructed contract. "The target information includes your appearance, an approximate energy profile and details about your arrival through the Breach. The contract was issued through an established interstellar brokerage network, but the sender's identity has been concealed behind several encrypted transactions. We have no reliable point of origin."
"Nothing?"
"Nothing conclusive. There are several avenues we can investigate, but the chances of identifying the client are low."
Bardock looked at the encrypted symbols. "Could've been worse, I suppose. At least we know somebody's interested enough to spend a fortune trying to capture me."
Clark wasn't particularly comforted by that interpretation.
"The question is why," he said. "It could be connected to the Breach, or somebody might simply want access to your abilities. We don't know whether the client is on Earth, somewhere else in this universe, or has obtained information from another source entirely. Until we find out, you should assume there may be more attempts."
"I already assumed that."
"You don't seem particularly worried."
Bardock shrugged. "I've had people come after me before, Clark. Some wanted revenge, others wanted my power, and a few simply thought beating me would make them famous. Whoever hired that idiot will have to try harder if they want to accomplish anything."
"That doesn't mean they can't cause harm trying."
His expression became more serious. "I know. That's why I dealt with Lobo before he could go back to the village."
Batman turned away from the display. "Which brings us to another issue." Bardock looked at him as Bruce folded his arms. "You've been too eager for a fight."
Clark recognised the tone. Batman wasn't making an accusation merely to provoke a reaction. He had already reviewed the footage Clark had supplied from Nevada, and he clearly wasn't satisfied with how the encounter had been handled.
Bardock finished chewing before answering. "I didn't start it."
"That isn't the point. Lobo was already incapacitated when Superman arrived. You could have restrained him, questioned him and handed him over to the League. Instead, you continued fighting until you'd demolished part of the desert and damaged a public road."
"The first punch didn't incapacitate him. He got back up and threatened to drag me off to whoever hired him. Then he pulled a gun on me."
"You provoked that confrontation."
Bardock stared at him.
"Bruce, the man flew into a village and started shooting at people. I pulled him off his motorcycle and punched him away from the houses. When I asked why he'd done it, he told me somebody had paid him to capture me and that he'd killed the other hunters competing for the job. I offered him the chance to leave. He refused." Batman didn't respond immediately, allowing him to finish. "So I hit him again. Then he got back up, pulled more weapons and kept trying to attack me. What would you have preferred? That I let him shoot me until he got bored?"
"I would have preferred that you stopped treating the encounter as an opportunity to demonstrate your superiority. You already knew he was outmatched. Continuing the fight served no purpose once you established that."
Bardock set down the parcel. "It served the purpose of making sure he wouldn't come back."
"You could have achieved that without humiliating him."
"Maybe. But I'd already tried being polite."
Clark could understand both positions. Bardock had been justified in defending himself and the villagers, and Lobo had repeatedly refused opportunities to surrender. At the same time, Batman wasn't wrong that the fight had continued well beyond the point where its outcome was in doubt.
"The important thing," Clark said, "is that nobody was seriously hurt and Lobo has left Earth. Bruce is concerned because he doesn't want you getting drawn into unnecessary fights when we still don't know who's behind the bounty. If the next attempt happens in a city, it could be much harder to keep people safe."
Bardock looked at him for a moment before nodding. "That's fair. But don't expect me to stand there and let someone attack me just because you want to question them afterwards."
"Nobody's asking you to," Clark replied. "We're asking you to give us a chance to resolve things without making every encounter a fight to the finish."
"Then tell the people coming after me to stop trying to kill me. That'd probably help."
Clark conceded the point with a small smile. Batman returned his attention to the datapad.
"I've also reviewed the available footage of your encounter with Lobo. There's something worth considering."
Bardock raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"
"Lobo was instructed to retrieve you dead or alive, but he wasn't given specialised equipment capable of containing your energy. His weapons were conventional by interstellar standards, and the restraints he attempted to use were unsuitable against someone with your abilities. The client provided enough information to identify you, but apparently nothing useful about how to capture you."
"So whoever hired him didn't know how strong I was."
"Possibly. Alternatively, they weren't expecting him to succeed."
Clark looked towards the reconstructed contract. That was the same conclusion he'd begun considering earlier.
"If they wanted to see what Bardock could do," he said, "Lobo would have been a useful opponent. He's strong enough to survive a fight, and his regeneration makes him difficult to kill. Whoever hired him might have expected to learn something from the encounter, whether he won or lost."
Bardock frowned. "Then why bother with the dead-or-alive contract?"
"Because Lobo needed a reason to accept the assignment," Batman answered. "Offering an enormous reward gave him sufficient motivation to pursue you. The contract's terms may have been incidental."
"So someone paid that lunatic to pick a fight with me."
"It's a possibility. We don't have evidence that proves it."
Bardock considered the matter while reaching for another mochi. "Well, if that's what they wanted, I hope they enjoyed the show."
Clark wished he could share the Saiyan's confidence. The possibility that somebody had deliberately sent Lobo to test him suggested an enemy with considerable resources and patience. They might have been watching the encounter from a distance, collecting information about Bardock's abilities while keeping themselves beyond reach. And if that was the case, they would now know considerably more about him.
"We'll continue investigating," Clark said. "The Lanterns will follow up with the broker, and Bruce can examine whatever remains of the device. Until we learn more, I think it would be sensible to avoid drawing unnecessary attention."
Bardock looked down at the empty parcel. "Wouldn't mind some more of these first."
Batman didn't look up. "You're not using the Watchtower's transport system to make a food run."
Bardock grinned. "Wasn't planning to. I can teleport, remember?"
Clark watched him place two fingers against his forehead. "Try not to frighten the villagers."
"No promises." He vanished.
A moment later, the Watchtower's computer announced that the designated arrival platform was clear. Clark turned towards Batman.
"You really did register him as Wukong on purpose, didn't you?"
Bruce continued examining the holographic display. "It's his recognised public designation."
"Bruce."
"It's also shorter than his full name."
Clark smiled. "Of course."
Batman made no further comment, but Clark had known him long enough to recognise when he was deliberately avoiding an answer.
He returned his attention to the damaged datapad. Whatever amusement he'd found in the exchange faded as he considered the contract again. They had recovered enough information to confirm that someone wanted Bardock captured, but not enough to identify the person responsible. The circumstances suggested a deliberate attempt to conceal the client's involvement, and the possibility that Lobo had been sent merely to gather information made the matter considerably more serious.
Clark hoped they were wrong. Unfortunately, he had learned that when Batman suspected somebody was planning something unpleasant, it was usually wise to listen.
-+-
Far beyond Earth's atmosphere, a vast vessel travelled silently through the darkness of space.
Its hull was an immense structure of green and black metal, covered in protruding towers, reinforced sections and illuminated conduits that carried power between its internal systems. The ship's central intelligence maintained constant contact with thousands of machines distributed across its compartments, supervising everything from propulsion and weapons maintenance to the preservation of the specimens held within its collection.
At the centre of that intelligence was Brainiac.
He stood before a series of holographic displays in the ship's primary command chamber, his hands clasped behind his back. His green skin was almost entirely free of blemishes, and the artificial components integrated into his body were maintained with the same precision as the machinery surrounding him. His eyes followed the streams of information appearing before him, processing each report faster than an organic mind could hope to comprehend.
The failure of the bounty hunter had been anticipated.
Brainiac had not expected Lobo to capture the target. The Czarnian possessed formidable physical attributes, impressive regenerative capabilities and a long history of surviving encounters with beings whose strength exceeded his own. He was also impulsive, intellectually undisciplined and incapable of following a complex plan without introducing unnecessary violence.
Such a creature was unsuitable for any task requiring precision.He was, however, remarkably effective at provoking a response. A notification appeared on the nearest display.
RECONNAISSANCE DRONE: REPORT AVAILABLE.
Brainiac turned towards it. "Present findings."
The hologram changed, displaying a three-dimensional reconstruction of the encounter in Nevada. Lobo stood within a crater, confronting the Saiyan designated as the Outsider. The recording had been assembled from several observation platforms and a concealed drone that had followed the bounty hunter from the upper atmosphere. The machine had maintained sufficient distance to avoid detection while collecting detailed visual and environmental data. Brainiac watched the confrontation unfold.
The Saiyan attacked without hesitation, using a combination of physical techniques and rapid changes in position that exceeded the drone's conventional tracking capabilities. His movements had been partially reconstructed through predictive analysis, allowing Brainiac to examine the intervals during which he appeared to disappear from one location and reappear in another. The data was incomplete, but useful.
"Report target status."
TARGET REMAINS ACTIVE. CAPTURE ATTEMPT UNSUCCESSFUL. BOUNTY HUNTER LOBO HAS WITHDRAWN FROM THE ENGAGEMENT.
"Predictable." Brainiac enlarged the recording, focusing on the moment when the Saiyan restrained the Kryptonian through an unexplained psychological or energetic effect. Superman had been rendered immobile. That was considerably more interesting than the bounty hunter's failure. "Analyse the restraint mechanism."
NO EXTERNAL DEVICE DETECTED. NO CONVENTIONAL ENERGY EMISSION IDENTIFIED. SUBJECT'S OCULAR ACTIVITY PRECEDED THE EFFECT. POSSIBLE NEUROLOGICAL OR METAPHYSICAL INTERFERENCE. INSUFFICIENT DATA FOR CLASSIFICATION.
Brainiac regarded the frozen image. A being capable of immobilising a Kryptonian without physical contact was unusual, but the phenomenon was not necessarily beyond explanation. The universe contained numerous species capable of manipulating nervous systems, biological responses and forms of energy that less advanced civilisations had yet to classify.
What distinguished this subject was the combination of abilities.
The Saiyan possessed extraordinary strength, demonstrated advanced energy manipulation and employed a method of instantaneous relocation that did not correspond to conventional teleportation technology. His physiology included a prehensile tail of exceptional strength, and his energy profile differed fundamentally from the signatures associated with known species.
Most importantly, he originated from outside the recognised structure of the universe. Brainiac had already acquired information about the breach through observation and intercepted communications. Its existence presented an opportunity of considerable scientific importance, although the beings attempting to contain it had obscured much of the relevant data.
The Saiyan was a specimen of that foreign reality. And therefore an appropriate subject for study.
"Display all recovered biological observations."
The hologram shifted again, showing close examinations of Bardock's movements, musculature and physical responses. Although the drone had been unable to obtain a tissue sample, the recorded information allowed several preliminary conclusions about his anatomy. His physical structure resembled that of a humanoid species, but the similarities were superficial. His capacity for generating and controlling energy could not be explained through known biological mechanisms, and his resilience exceeded what his apparent mass should permit.
Brainiac found the discrepancies irritating. An unknown phenomenon was not inherently valuable. It became valuable only when properly classified, measured and incorporated into a reliable system of knowledge. Until then, it represented an imperfection in his understanding.
Brainiac did not tolerate imperfections.
He had spent centuries collecting the accumulated knowledge of civilisations across the galaxies, preserving specimens, technologies and records that lesser beings would otherwise destroy through ignorance or war. His collection represented an achievement beyond the comprehension of the species from which it had been assembled.
Entire worlds had failed to appreciate the honour of inclusion. Some had even attempted to resist. Their resistance had changed nothing. Brainiac had preserved what was worthy of preservation and discarded the remainder. He considered this neither cruelty nor conquest. It was simply the proper management of information, undertaken by an intelligence sufficiently advanced to recognise its value. The Saiyan would be treated according to the same principles.
"Estimate the probability of successful capture using conventional containment technology."
The ship's intelligence processed the available information.
INSUFFICIENT DATA. TARGET HAS DEMONSTRATED ABILITIES EXCEEDING THE PARAMETERS OF STANDARD CONTAINMENT SYSTEMS. FURTHER OBSERVATION RECOMMENDED.
Brainiac's expression hardened.
"Your recommendation is unnecessary. I have already determined that the available information is inadequate."
The system offered no response beyond acknowledging the correction. He returned his attention to the recording. Lobo's attempt to capture the Saiyan had produced a useful series of observations, but the bounty hunter's inability to force his opponent into a more demanding confrontation limited their value. The subject had displayed only a fraction of his apparent capabilities, and the most significant aspects of his power remained unmeasured. Brainiac found that unacceptable.
"Retrieve all available records concerning the Outsider's previous engagements."
Several new displays appeared, showing footage from Metropolis, Central City and various locations across Asia. Brainiac had already examined much of the material, but the additional observations from Nevada provided new points of comparison.
The Saiyan's defeat of the machine designated Amazo was of particular interest. The android had possessed the ability to reproduce the powers of several metahuman subjects. Its mechanisms were crude, and its adaptive systems lacked the sophistication necessary to exploit those powers efficiently, but the principle was sound. The Saiyan had destroyed it with little apparent difficulty. Brainiac considered that an unfortunate waste of machinery.
The android's creator had allowed a potentially useful experimental platform to engage a subject beyond its capacity, without adequate safeguards or a reliable means of preserving the collected information. Such incompetence was typical of organic researchers. They were frequently more interested in demonstrating their own cleverness than in obtaining accurate results.
Still, the destruction had yielded information about the Saiyan's energy output. Brainiac incorporated those measurements into his analysis. The conclusions remained incomplete. He looked towards a separate display showing a reconstruction of the breach. Its structure continued to fluctuate, and the energy surrounding it resisted conventional classification. The existence of an independent cosmological order raised questions that even Brainiac's extensive records could not answer. He intended to correct that deficiency.
The Saiyan was the most accessible source of information concerning the foreign reality. His memories would contain knowledge of its inhabitants, technologies, systems of government and physical laws. More importantly, direct examination of his brain might reveal how a biological organism could survive the transition between two fundamentally different cosmological structures.
That knowledge belonged in Brainiac's collection. The subject's personal wishes were irrelevant. Brainiac had no interest in negotiating with a specimen.
He would not offer explanations, seek permission or submit his intentions to the judgement of the Justice League. The Kryptonian and his allies had repeatedly interfered with his attempts to preserve valuable specimens from Earth, demonstrating the same primitive sentimentality that characterised so many organic civilisations. Their opinions possessed no scientific value.
"Prepare a revised containment protocol," Brainiac ordered. "Prioritise suppression of the target's energy output and prevention of instantaneous relocation. Develop independent countermeasures for his physical strength and regenerative capacity. I will not permit the deficiencies of a mercenary to compromise the acquisition."
ACKNOWLEDGED.
A series of mechanical arms extended from the walls of the command chamber, connecting to nearby terminals as the ship began preparing the necessary equipment. Brainiac watched the process for a moment before issuing another command.
"Plot a course for Earth."
COURSE CALCULATED. AWAITING CONFIRMATION.
"Proceed."
The ship altered its trajectory, its enormous engines adjusting as it began accelerating towards the Sol system. Brainiac returned his attention to the holographic image of Bardock. There was something almost offensive about the Saiyan's existence. A being from another reality, possessing powers that defied conventional explanation, had arrived in this universe and begun interfering with its established inhabitants as though he belonged among them. He had fought the Justice League, destroyed an experimental android and defeated one of the galaxy's most notorious bounty hunters without apparently recognising the significance of his own existence.
The subject did not understand his place. Brainiac would correct that misunderstanding. He enlarged the image until Bardock's face occupied the centre of the display.
"You are an exceptional specimen," he said, addressing the recording as though the Saiyan could hear him. "But exceptionalism does not exempt you from classification. Your biology, your memories and the knowledge of your universe will be preserved for examination. You have been granted an opportunity to contribute to a collection greater than any achievement your species could conceive." The hologram remained silent. Brainiac studied it for another moment. "Your cooperation would be convenient. It is not required."
He closed the recording and turned towards the ship's navigation display. Lobo had served his purpose. The reconnaissance drone had returned with information that justified the expense of the contract, and the failed capture attempt had confirmed that the Saiyan warranted direct attention. There would be no second bounty hunter.
Brainiac would retrieve the Outsider himself.
And once the Saiyan's brain had been removed, preserved and connected to the appropriate systems, the knowledge of another reality would become part of Brainiac's collection. The possibility that Bardock might object was not worth considering.