Chapter 3: Mount Justice.

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Anakin Skywalker

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Batman wanted me to teach someone about human customs and living on earth, and not just any ‘someone’ either. Martian Manhunter’s niece, M'gann M'orzz. He didn’t actually say it was her though. He just said a Martian. In return, I would apparently have the opportunity to develop my psionic abilities.

I sent him a reply using the secure channel on the laptop, telling him I declined but that I'd like armour made and for someone to help publish some comic books and potentially make movies out of them. I originally wanted to purchase Star Wars, just the George Lucas movies and the Andor show, but I immediately turned that idea down. Having my abilities out in the world solely for financial gain made no sense.

Luckily, much like Star Wars, Marvel didn't exist in this universe either, so I just went with that. Spider-Man, Iron Man, Thor, Mutants, The X-Men and the like. Thinking ahead in case someone questioned me, I bought versions that would be downloaded directly into my mind. It had been years since I’d seen or heard anything about them, so recalling the events would be tough.

As for the armour, I sent over a few sketches and requirements for different versions. A clone-war era version with durable light armour under the robes and Revan style helmet as my light armour, Task Master's armour from what I remember from the Black Window movie as my medium armour, and the Sith Acolyte armour from all the old Republic trailers I remember watching as the heavy armour. They would be the standard, but I planned to outfit them with all the relevant tech I had in mind, thanks to Anakin's initial talent with technology.

I would have gone with the regular Vader look for the heavy armour, but I was already planning on my new source of income, and it would be too on the nose if I were walking around in armour people had seen in movies linked to my name. Now that I thought about it, I'd have to change the names of all the Skywalkers, which sucked. I'll just have to ask this universe's version of George Lucas to direct it and think of a name.

The last bite of toast vanished from my plate as I set my fork down, ending my hearty breakfast. I was halfway through standing when there was a firm, deliberate, but not aggressive knock at the door. I could sense two people with a strong presence, but neither seemed hostile, so I approached the door and looked through the peephole.

Outside stood a man and a woman dressed as if they belonged in an office building. The man wore a crisp and perfectly tailored charcoal-grey suit, while the young woman at his side, slightly older than me by the look of her, wore a smart navy blouse and matching skirt, fidgeting with her hands with a nervous expression.

“Who is it?” Anakin called through the door, even though I already knew who they were from Bats’ message. “And why are you at my place?”

The man smiled professionally, arms calmly at his sides. “I’m here regarding tutoring for my niece.”

That was good enough for me. I unlocked the door and stepped aside, giving them a welcoming nod. “Come in.”

The pair entered, the man moving with much more confidence while the girl followed more hesitantly, glancing at every surface like it was new to her, which it might well have been.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” I asked, closing the door behind them.

“No, thank you,” the man replied politely. “I’m John. This is Megan.” His tone shifted slightly, becoming less formal. “We’re here to show you where the tutoring will be taking place… and how to get there. I believe you received a message from the individual who set up the programme.”

Megan gave an awkward little wave as her eyes met mine briefly. ‘Hi…’ I heard an echo of an uncertain telepathic voice, gently projected to my mind. But the moment it touched my mind, the mental intrusion was instinctively slapped away with force as a stern frown formed on my features. Megan, or M'gann, flinched, recoiling as if she’d been physically struck.

John, or J'onn, turned toward her slightly, probably sensing what had occurred, but said nothing. I sensed no telepathy from the two of them at that point, though. I couldn’t tell if they were having some kind of telepathic conversation due to a lack of skill in that regard, or if they were simply just not using their abilities. If I were a betting man, I would have assumed J’onn and/or Batman made sure not to inform her that humans don’t like to have their minds prodded just to get some idea of any telepathic abilities I have.

“...No,” I practically growled, fixing the girl with a sharp, disappointed look, like a teacher catching a child reaching for something they shouldn’t have. Palpy must have mentally tortured old Vader a few times too many if I were as good at it as my instincts were telling me. M'gann’s eyes widened as she clasped her hands a little tighter in front of her chest, bowing her head. Satisfied that the point landed, my expression softened a touch as I let my voice lose its edge.

“That might as well be your first lesson,” I said, stepping past her and gesturing for them to take their seats on the couch. “People on earth don’t typically appreciate others poking around in their heads, if if well meaning. Not unless they completely trust them. And even then… most would still rather you didn’t.”

“Sorry,” she said softly with a slow nod as she went on to quickly explain. “I didn’t know. On Mars, it’s how we normally communicate.”

I gave a small, nonchalant shrug. “It’s okay,” I said, smothering my desire to chastise her uncle for not letting her know beforehand. “Just… don’t do it again. Unless it’s against a criminal and absolutely necessary, such as finding a victim or tracking someone dangerous, that sort of thing. But don’t worry, I have a feeling you’ll catch on quickly.”

Somewhat relieved by my understanding tone, M’gann offered me a shy smile. “Got it. I’ll remember that. Thank you.”

Seeing no reason to linger on the subject, I sent her a slight nod before turning toward her uncle. “Alright. I’ll just change out of my gym clothes, take a quick shower, and we can head out.”

The disguised hero inclined his head once as he spoke, seemingly unconcerned. “We’ll wait here.”

With that, I walked into my room, stripping off my clothes and hopping in for a cold shower. Within minutes, I was back out in a basic, black jeans, hoodie and sneaker combo, then we were out of the apartment not a moment later, with J’onn leading the way.

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The walk was quiet, with M’gann mostly just looking around and people watching. Soon enough, J’onn came to a stop near an old, scratched-up phone booth beside a mashed-up dumpster in one of Gotham’s numerous junk yards. It was surrounded by metal husks of cars stacked into columns that stretched into the distance and the air smelled of rust and oil.

“This is a Zeta Tube. Disguised as a phone booth.” He turned to us both, seeming to treat it as a lesson for M’gann as well, indicating they arrived using one of the many other means of travel they had at their disposal. “It will teleport us to the location where tutoring and/or training will take place. But be aware, if you use it while you are not being followed, you will be putting others in the league in danger.”

He gestured toward the booth and at the surrounding, then added, “There are sensors and security systems watching the perimeter. When activated as normal, if anything suspicious is detected, the tube will inform you by turning this panel—” he pointed to a blank nondescript panel before cpntinueng. ”—and will not activate. But if there is no other option, you may use the emergency button. It will function normally while also sending a distress call to the league.”

I frowned slightly, immediately scanning our surroundings. It didn’t take me long. Above the ridge of junked cars, nestled in the twisted frame of an old billboard, and a few others here and there. They looked broken at first glance, but knowing Batman, they were probably working well enough to do facial recognition on all who enter the Zeta Tube, along with other high-tech surveillance. Due to how small and well hidden they were, I had no doubt there were more I couldn’t see, so I didn’t even try searching for them.

“I promise I’ll be careful, Uncle J’onn,” M’gann turned to her uncle with a determined but upbeat tone one would hear in one of those sitcom shows. “I won’t do anything that might endanger the league.”

Ignoring M’gann’s people-pleasing attitude for the moment, I gave Manhunter a curt nod of agreement before gesturing toward the booth. “How does the teleportation work, exactly?”

His expression didn’t change, but his tone took on a slightly more instructional quality. “To summarise, Zeta Tube travel works by locking onto a unique genetic and biometric signature. It temporarily converts the traveller’s molecular structure into an energy pattern, transmits it through secure channels, and reassembles it at the destination tube.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. There were too many things that I could think of which could go wrong at any time.

“Any protections in place?” I asked with a raised brow, hoping to be bombarded with precautions in place for the entire planet’s sake.  “Against hacking, physical damage, sabotage? Although only fictional so far, I have heard horror stories about teleportation going wrong, resulting in rather dire consequences.”

If the heroes went and get themself teleported to another dimension, I don’t think I’d be ready to deal with all the morons that will be trying to invade the planet. At least not just yet, anyway.

“The League has accounted for such possibilities,” Martian Manhunter sent me a patient nod. “All Zeta Tubes are equipped with alert protocols. If anything is damaged, the system notifies us immediately. According to League engineers and our most technologically inclined members, the software is equipped with extremely advanced encryption, making it practically impenetrable. But even if a breach is found, that will also send an alert.”

“Right…” I glanced again at the dingy, scratched-up phone booth with a sceptical frown. “But I’m under the impression there are beings out there in the universe far more advanced than us on Earth. I have no doubt that more than one of them could crack the system.”

My first thought went to people like Brainiac, who might tamper with it in a way that would be untraceable to the current level of human code, setting it up to teleport all the heroes into one of those bottles of his. And that was just the beginning. There was nothing the league could really do against reality warpers or the Old Gods, though, so I wouldn’t even bother with that for the foreseeable future.

Seeing no real reason to dwell on the matter at the moment, I gave the Martians a shrug. “I’ll just have to get good enough with magic to teleport myself, I guess. That way, I don’t have to worry about someone hijacking me halfway through the process.”

That seemed to make M’gann’s eyes light up at the mention of magic, possibly due to knowledge of the yellow Martian sorcerers known as the Y'ellonn, but she seemed to barely hold he tongue. Her uncle, on the other hand, sent me a look that bordered on respect, while somehow maintaining his somewhat blank expression. “A wise goal.”

I’m pretty sure Constantine could open portals, so I could learn it from him. Failing that, I could always either try to figure out [Force Teleportation], or just purchase it from the System. It would probably be safer to use [Force Teleportation], though, simply due to the fact that it was a power source that a mage hopefully couldn’t hijack.

Leaving it at that, J’onn stepped closer to the booth and added, “The League’s Zeta Tubes are voice-activated, and this booth was insulated to mute sound produced from the inside. Our destination is Mount Justice. Simply enter the booth and speak the location clearly. The system will handle the rest. However, the manual terminal still remains an option if one would prefer. A dim green light will appear when in use and turn off when it is free for use. Allow me to demonstrate.”

With that, J’onn stepped inside and closed it behind him, causing the small light on the outside to momentarily turn green before switching off the moment I could no longer sense him in the Force.

Turning to M’gann, I nodded for her to head in next. “Ladies first.”

I received a somewhat thankful and shy smile for my efforts as she did just that while muttering a demure, “Thank you.”

She vanished from my senses in the same way her uncle did.

Finding myself alone, I took a moment to study the booth one more time, taking a moment just to feel potential danger with the Force. I knew of [Mechu Deru] and, like many Star Wars fans, theorised that Anakin used it instinctively. However, whatever instinctive talent I had in the art wasn’t enough to instantly and completely understand what I was dealing with, only pick up little bits and pieces.

After finding nothing wrong and dismissing the thought of making a purchase from the system, I stepped inside, glanced at the manual controls to ensure I knew where everything was in case of an emergency, and stated clearly, “Mount Justice.”

I let the nerd-beam take me to the mountain without a fuss. Ideas of improving or acquiring a better skill with something like [Mechu Deru] will have to take a back seat for now, my natural affinity for machinery and technology will have to suffice.

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Mount Justice – Mission Room

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“Recognise. B-01: VADER.” 

The automated voice of the zeta tube echoed off the cave’s high, stone-lined walls as I stepped out of the metal tube, taking an instinctual glance at the room before settling my gaze on the now out of disguise Martian duo.

When I sent over the armour ideas, I originally wanted to give Batman the code name of Darth Vader, but it was a little on the nose, making me sound a little too edgy, so I just stuck with just Vader. As for why I took Robin's place as designation B-01, I didn't even bother trying to find out. For all I knew, Bats may be changing the roster, but I doubted it.

M’gann, now with red, shoulder-length hair, green skin, freckles and a cape similar to her uncle, gave me another nervous smile, standing a step behind the Manhunter.

J’onn simply nodded, now in regular public superhero getup. “You may begin whenever you’re ready. Explore the facility if you wish. Leave when you’re finished.” Before I could ask anything, he turned toward the Zeta Tube once more. “I received urgent League business just before you stepped through,” he explained. “But the fridge is fully stocked. If you need anything, help yourselves.”

Without ceremony, he stepped into the tube. “Watchtower.”

I was fairly certain I wasn't supposed to know about the Watchtower, the secret satellite base in orbit, so he must have been either in a hurry or it wasn’t supposed to be a secret in the first place. Well, not a secret from League or Team members anyway. I was pretty sure the public didn't know.

With a pulse of light, he was gone, and I simply shrugged, already used to the new normal. “Right…” I turned to M'gann. “Well, we might as well do a quick tour before we get started.”

“Sure,” she let out a short, slightly awkward laugh, seemingly grateful for something casual to do, but I could sense a sliver of guilt, shame and deception. “Yeah, that seems like a good idea.”

The emotions I could feel weren't at the level to make me extremely cautious, so I assumed it was because she chose to keep hiding her white Martian heritage. Something I planned to talk to her about anyway, so she could skip a character arc and be better off earlier in the timeline.

With that, we moved through the Cave’s wide halls and chambers, following a map I had on the phone Batman left me. The training room, the hangar, the ops centre, the living quarters, they were all bigger and more packed with tech than the show indicated, and my mind, as always, was instinctively cataloguing potential vulnerabilities, hidden exits, and possible choke points.

The thing that confused me during the tour was knowing that the league had all that tech, but people rarely, if ever, used silent drones in the show. Something I know full well Batman would have taught Robin. But I could only assume it was something to do with the bad guys having tech and skills that could hack the connection or something similar.

Before I could continue finding flaws in what I knew of the league members, we eventually circled back to the kitchen.

The fridge and cupboards were indeed stocked with cold drinks, sandwiches, fruit, and all the necessary ingredients to cook for dozens. While I grabbed an apple, a protein bar and some water for myself, M'gann took a moment, eying the baking ingredients before grabbing her own snacks and following me to the curved seating area built into the wall.

“So…” M’gann glanced at me somewhat awkwardly once we’d taken our seats. “Do you want to start with empathy training or the basic things I need to know about Earth?”

“Well, actually, I asked for some armour instead of the psionic lessons,” I leaned back with a barely perceivable frown, thinking she should have been informed, which only added credibility to the idea of Bats and Manhunter purposefully keeping her uninformed. “We can get started on some basic Earth knowledge and behaviour. Why don’t you start by telling me what you know about Earth? It will give me a good idea of where to start from.”

She immediately perked up with a smile forming on her face. “Oh, I really love the show ‘Hello, Megan!’....

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Los Angeles — Lux

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A swirling portal of faint golden light flickered to life in a dark alley behind Lux, with Constantine casually stepping through. His trench coat was singed at the edges, hair slightly more dishevelled than usual, with even a small flame licking at his left shoulder. With a tired sigh, he casually patted out the fire with a slap of his hand, locking his gaze on the piano bar/night club. “Bloody funckin’ amateurs.”

Not missing a beat, he fished out a battered silver lighter and a half-crushed cigar from his coat pocket, flicked the lighter, and let the spark do its work, letting the end of the cigar glow red. He took a long drag as he sauntered toward the neon glow of the club.

Inside the club itself, at a private corner table, Lucifer Morningstar lounged like a king on his throne, with a glass of fine whisky in one hand and the other lazily stroking the back of a stunning brunette perched beside him. Another half-dozen beautiful women surrounded him, laughing softly, sipping on expensive champagne or wine.

The moment Constantine’s boots hit the floor of the club, Lucifer’s gaze sharpened ever so slightly as a smirk curled his lips, already looking forward to their conversation. He clinked his glass softly against the table. “Ladies,” he purred. “Would you be so kind as to enjoy the dance floor for a bit? I’ve a… guest to entertain. I promise to do my best and meet you there soon.”

As he expected, there was a chorus of playful sighs and flirtatious glances as the women rose, one trailing her fingers under Lucifer’s chin before joining her friends. Being who he is, he took his time watching the backsides of the girls as they left, already picturing what he would do to them once they joined him in his penthouse room.

Moments later, Constantine strolled up to the table, trench coat trailing a faint whiff of smoke. Without ceremony, he reached into an inner pocket and produced a worn yet disturbingly well-preserved Colt Paterson 1836, covered in strange, darkly etched inscriptions and tiny sigils along the barrel and handle.

With a thump, Constantine dropped the gun on the table. “Got your bloody antique. Right from the bastards who nicked it. You’re welcome. Not even going to ask why demons had a well-made and inscribed demon-killing gun. How demons can live for so long and still behave like amateurs is beyond me.”

Lucifer took a slow sip of his whisky, barely glancing at the weapon. “John. Always such a pleasure.” The words dripped with dry sarcasm as Constantine slid into the booth, lighting another drag of his cigar.

The sorcerer grunted, pouring himself a glass from the decanter at the table. “Yeah, yeah. Skip the charm, mate. I got you your enchanted toy. Now, how about that information on the kid, yeah? Some of us actually age you know.”

Lucifer’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Oh, John… must you always be so transactional? We could’ve indulged in a little conversation first. Small talk, perhaps? Catch up on old times? Or is it young time considering your lack of life span?” His voice dipped into a false note of hurt, but the devilish grin remained all the same.

As he spoke, Lucifer finally gave the old revolver a proper look, fingertips brushing across the barrel. He traced the sigils idly, narrowing his eyes as he checked them over, already having a good idea of who to present it to as a reward for a job well done.

“Hm.” His smirk dimmed slightly as his tone became more grounded, setting the gun carefully back on the table and turning back to Constantine. The playful edge in his gaze dulled, replaced with something cooler and more calculating. “Well then,” Lucifer said smoothly as a smile started forming on his face. “Let’s talk about this… boy of yours. Or should I say, potentially dad’s new son whom didn’t bother telling anyone about. Though, he does seem to be significantly less forgiving than his potential brother, and much more violent from what I’ve seen.”

Constantine gave the Devil a confused look. “You pulling my leg?”

“I assure you,” Lucifer gave the sorcerer’s leg an analytical look before shaking his head in almost disappointment. “Your legs are too scrawny for my taste and look nowhere near as good as the ladies’ dancing over there. So, rest assured, I will be pulling none of them for the foreseeable future.” 

“Right,” Constantine gave him a deadpan look with a small shake of his head. “If big G didn’t let anyone know then how do you know? And how come there aren’t any angels running around protecting him? He was kidnapped and sold into slavery a few years ago for goodness' sake. All I could get from him was a power source similar to the red dildo on the Justice League.”

Lucifer let out an unsophisticated snort as he took a sip from his glass. “Simple, really. He was born through immaculate conception. He doesn’t have a biological father. And no, it wasn’t a science experiment involving biological cloning or manipulation, before you ask. The only one I know of to be born that way was…”

“Jesus Christ,” Constantine muttered with a small frown.

“Exactly,” Lucifer smiled before his smile turned to one of realisation while looking at Constantine’s features. “Oh, you said that out of shock and confusion, not to finish my sentence.” He shrugged while shaking his head in mock disappointment, not nearly as bothered by the information as the sorcerer in front of him. “People really say his name for anything nowadays.”

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“Look at us. Reunited, and it feels so good.”

— Lucifer Morningstar.

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Hello There

I don’t remember getting an explanation of how Zeta tubes work so I just went with the basic Star Trek one, or at least as close to it as my simple mind could understand. Genius-level intellect is given out like candy in the real world like it is in the comics.

Personally, I was so disappointed with the end Taskmaster got in the MCU. So, Taskmaster can consider the use of the armour as tribute.

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Disclaimer: I own nothing except my OCs and original ideas. All credit goes to their respective owners.

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Thank you for reading.

As always, stay awesome.

Until next time, Light's out.