Superman peered on the Earth from above. It was a view he’d earned after a lifetime of pushing his limits. How far could he go without freezing, without breathing? The answer turned out to be ‘pretty darned far.’ 

He remembered back in Smallville, the other boys in his class dreaming aloud about the places they might go, the things they might do, and how many of them would actually grow up to be astronauts. Clark had that dream, too. He never thought he’d actually make it to space. 

The sight never failed to humble him. Some describe the Earth as a fragile blue marble, but from where he sat, absorbing the horizons stacked on one another, reaching from dawn to dusk, he was the one who was small.

It was a view he’d always treasure, but not one he could revel in too long. Today he was there for other reasons.

A flash of emerald blinked from somewhere along the east coast of the United States. Superman didn’t need telescopic vision to know who was accelerating toward him at speeds over mach five and climbing.

Green Lantern came to a sharp stop only meters from the other hero. Were it not for the energy field projected from his ring, bracing him both outward and from within, the force might have turned him to soup.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he mouthed, though the words didn’t extend beyond his aura.

Superman chuckled silently and tapped his ear, the universal signal for ‘in space no-one can hear you apologize.’

Kyle groaned. Duh, Kyle. He expanded the emerald aura so that it held the Man of Steel. Once inside, Superman exhaled. The silence was replaced by the movement of air, the beating of their hearts, the rushing of blood, and the countless other sounds of the body.

“Sorry,” Kyle repeated now that he had a voice. “I, uh, I don’t usually have company up here. I keep forgetting you need an atmosphere to talk.”

Superman chuckled good-naturedly. “It’s… not the best place for conversation, no.”

If it was conversation they were after, there were certainly better places for it; most of them a mere thousand kilometer bee-line from their position in the sky. But they were superheroes, and more often in recent months the call to action came from a place with no sound.

They stared into the inky void. Somewhere out there was someone staring back. Kyle did his best impression of resolve. Superman performed it without effort. 

“You can see it, right?” asked Green Lantern.

“I can.”

He followed Superman’s line of sight and found nothing but darkness. “What’s it look like?”

The Man of Steel didn’t need to focus. Every gleaming facet of the vessel was as clear to him as the day.

“Big,” he said.

Kyle tensed. It figured. ‘Big’ was the Justice League’s wheelhouse. Why would he expect anything different?

They launched in tandem and plunged into the infinite, past the moon, en route to Mars and beyond. Side by side, the heroes moved at speeds so incredible that time itself slowed a fraction around them.

For Green Lantern, traveling through and between systems was like taking the subway to work. Most times it was solitary, but every so often there was a passenger along for the ride. When that happened the passenger’s mass would ‘drag’, and the journey would require a very minor, but not imperceptible, extra ‘push’ along the way.

Except that Superman wasn’t a passenger. The drag wasn’t there. The Man of Steel was moving under his own steam. 

Finally, Kyle spoke. “Okay, I gotta ask. My ring was designed with intergalactic flight in mind, so how are you keeping up?”

Superman shrugged. “I only learned a short time ago that I can accelerate at an exponential rate,” he explained, as if that kind of thing was completely normal. “But I don’t exactly get to cut loose on Earth. It took a few sonic booms to figure that out.”

The Green Lantern frowned as he processed this new knowledge. Was there anything this guy couldn’t do?

“I’ve thought about traveling to other galaxies,” Superman remarked. “I just don’t think I could hold my breath that long.”

Kyle stared, slack jawed. That was a joke, right? Superman liked jokes. He’d heard him crack more than a few. 

Then again…

Together they delved, ever forward into the expanse, the Earth far behind them, focused on a point only one of them could see. A journey to the stars can usually be measured in years or more, but for Superman and Green Lantern a few hours were long enough.

They began to decelerate just over a million miles from their target, and in a long arc moved to match its course and speed. They ‘inched’ closer, which in cosmic terms meant nearing at hundreds of kilometers per second, but slowed the clearer the object became.

The two became still. It took a moment to realize that the thing couldn’t be a mountain; nature didn’t produce that kind of symmetry, nor did it produce smooth surfaces and framed panels that formed a gargantuan metal ‘teardrop’. Positioned evenly on its sides were four cascading sets of sails, with the largest positioned at the rounded end and the smallest near the pointed tail.

Kyle shook himself. He was a Green Lantern, damn it. He drank with spacemen, and had even flirted with a few. This, he told himself, wasn’t a big deal.

“You think it’s a ship?”

Superman scanned the vessel with eyes beyond those of mere mortals. X-Ray vision. Infrared. More. He frowned.

“There are people inside,” he said, “most of them humanoid, and most of them appear female.”

“And here I thought women were from Venus,” Kyle said, prompting a half-smile from his teammate.

Light came pouring from a sudden split in the face of the craft. As it widened, it revealed shifting plates that turned on their corners, unfurling to reveal another golden metallic layer, which then also split and opened for them. This went on until it revealed a large, rectangular chasm running to the heart of the craft, wide enough for a smaller ship to enter. 

Could an invitation be any clearer?

Superman gestured toward the opening. “After you.”

Kyle laughed. “Oh, no. Age before beauty.”

Superman’s lip curled. No time for second thoughts. He turned for the opening and floated inside. Kyle followed, once more into the breach.

STAR CROSSED

PART I

By Miranda Sparks

Somewhere in the suburbs of Celestial City:

Donna Long stared at her reflection. The woman on the other side didn’t appear to be drowning. Rather the stranger looked as she did; a hastily put together sketch of the woman who has it all. 

She’d straightened her hair that usually hung in a ponytail, and treated it with the litany of products she never used under the vanity. She’d gone to YouTube to relearn the finer points of makeup, leaving her feeling like a teenager trying not to stab her eye with the mascara stick. The navy dress was an easy choice; it was the nicest dress she owned, and clung in a way that was sophisticated, not desperate. And, of course, she’d paired it with her favorite pearl necklace, the one she saved for birthdays and anniversaries.

And meals with her long-lost Amazon twin.

Anxiety twisted in her chest. They were sisters. Twins. Wonder Woman was her twin. Sisters did this kind of thing. They spent time together. They had dinner. She and Wonder Woman, her sister, were going to have dinner together, because that was the done thing. This, she told herself for the millionth time, is what families – what sisters – did.

She cursed her reflection. “Knock it off, Donna. Keep it together.”

She wiped her palms on her dress and immediately regretted it. Now she had sweat and product and makeup on her dress, which now had a visible smudge; an unforgivable blemish on a woman desperate to measure up.

Strong, familiar arms slid around her waist and pulled her into a gentle hold. Donna melted against the warmth of her husband’s chest and drank the smell of his cologne. Thank whatever gods there were that he should show up then.

“Everything will be fine,” Terry murmured. He kissed her on the neck. That was enough to ground her for the moment.

Terry was the epitome of handsome. Donna wasn’t the only one to think so. How did he do it? He was so effortlessly put together; beard immaculately kempt, dressed in tailored shirts and trousers, and patent Italian loafers far above his paygrade. 

“I need this to be perfect,” she breathed. Not want; need. Not so she could be equal, because she could never be that, but good enough.

Donna cursed. This wasn’t her. She was the mark of determination, plowing ahead and giving no shits.

Terry drew her back against his shoulder. He had a way of smoothing the edge off her nerves. No other man had ever done that. Not that Donna had been with all that many men, or women, either.

She jumped with a terrifying thought. “What if she’s allergic to shellfish? Oh, god! We should have made chicken!”

Terry’s laughter vibrated into her neck. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He gave her a gentle squeeze. “Linguini and clams with a pinot grigio. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

That was easy for him to say.

Donna took a deep breath and returned to the kitchen. She needed something to occupy herself, and found that distraction in chopping parsley. Probably too much parsley. The aroma of garlic and white wine was a comfort, normal. At least she could lean back on her husband’s cooking.

Artemis was a whirlwind of green and sparkles. “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!” she chanted, zig-zagging across the living room like a little girl-shaped rocket. “When’s Wonder Woman getting here? I want to meet her!”

Donna’s heart swelled. It seemed only yesterday that Artemis was a quiet little boy who refused to leave his room. Now in his place was this bubbly, red-headed ball of energy in a new party dress and sparkling sandals. Her chest ached with the fullness of her pride.

“She’s just a person, sweetie,” Donna told her.

Artemis came to a stop in front of the counter. She arched on the balls of her feet. “But is she gonna wear her costume? With the tiara and everything?”

“I think she’ll be dressed like an ordinary person, honey. And her name is Diana, remember?”

‘Aunty Diana,’ she thought, or ‘Aunty Di’, or some other variation they’d yet to dream up. Suddenly the butterflies had returned, and they bought friends.

Artemis fell into a well-rehearsed pout. It lasted all of three seconds before excitement grabbed her again and she was twirling in circles.

Terry, who’d just finished stirring, wiped his hands on a dish towel. “Everything’s under control. The wine is breathing, the bread is warm. We are ready for royalty.” He winked at Donna. He was ready for royalty, but was she?

DING-DONG.

The doorbell cut through the house like a gunshot. Donna’s breath caught in her throat. No, it was too soon. Then again, it was always going to be too soon.

She never got the chance to process the feeling. Artemis was off in a sprint, practically shrieking, “I’ll get it!”

“Artemis, no-” 

But it was too late. She heard the little girl fumbling with the lock, then the click of the latch, and the door swinging open. An invisible hand squeezed the air from her lungs. From around the corner she heard her daughter’s squeals.

“WONDER WOMAN!”

“And you must be Artemis,” Diana said. “I’ve heard so much about you!” The tone gave her pause. It was warm. Gentle. Impossibly kind. More than Donna had ever been, though she tried.

Donna forced herself around the corner and stopped.

She saw Diana; not the superheroine from the news, but as someone more… human, wearing a red bodycon dress with a delicate lace neckline. It did little to soften the power and presence of her. What’s more, Diana had decided to go with high heels. Wasn’t she tall enough already? Her stature filled the doorway.

But she was even more than that. Donna wondered, what’s the opposite of looking into a funhouse mirror? Whatever it was, this was that. The parts of herself reflected in Diana weren’t a distortion, but an idealization made manifest. 

They had the same face, the same bone structure, but Diana wore it better. She wore the shape of their shared heritage better. Where Donna was lean and taut, Diana was sculpted muscle. The exhausted rings under Donna’s eyes were bright and clear on Diana, and sparkled like a sunset over the ocean. Diana’s skin was a deep, sun-kissed olive, in contrast to Donna’s pale office tone. 

And her hair! Donna’s may have been straightened and styled, but Diana’s was full and lush, like a living thing that swayed in time with her grace.

Every inch of the Amazon’s appearance were a punctuation on the laundry list of faults Donna’d fought to love in spite of herself. That alone should have leveled her, but when Diana turned, a miracle happened. Diana looked at her, and the doubts vanished, replaced by warmth and a deep affection.

No, it was even more than that. It was love. Perfect love. The love of a lost sister found.

She barely registered the man in the doorway. He was handsome with his trimmed moustache, blazer and jeans, but handsome in a way that mortals were. Steve Trevor was a flickering candle standing next to a supernova.

Diana closed the distance between them, and took Donna’s hands in her own. Her touch was incredible. Warm, steady, and real. Actually real!

“It’s so good to see you,” Diana said. 

Every syllable resonated with truth. Good. Yes, it was good. It was good for Diana to see her, and she did; she really saw her, right down to her bones. 

The two were lost in silent communion. There was more than shared DNA. It didn’t matter that they’d spent their lives living on opposite ends of the world. They were together again, and all was right.

But the world around them continued to turn. Terry stepped past the women and extended a hand. “You must be Steve. I’m Terry. Please, come in.”

“It’s nice to meet you at last,” Steve replied, and shook firmly. “We brought wine.” He held up a bottle.

Terry laughed, warmly and genuinely. “A Vermentino! Excellent taste. I’ve got a Pinot Grigio on ice right now.” He clapped Steve on the shoulder. “I suspect we’ll finish both before the night is out.”

The two sisters could have lingered for an eternity, but that wouldn’t stand for the girl at their feet.

“Why aren’t you wearing your costume?” Artemis asked, again with the trademark pout.

“Artemis, honey,” Donna sighed, “we’ve talked about this.”

But Diana just beamed, and crouched as close as she could to eye level with the little girl. “It’s alright, Donna. I was hoping to try something new tonight.”

Artemis’s face contorted further. “But I love your costume! I love your boots, and your shiny bracelets, and your tiara! It’s so sparkly!”

Diana’s smile widened. It turns out it could get wider. “It is, isn’t it?” She stood up and turned to Donna. “I can change, if you’d like.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that,” Donna said. “Really, you look wonderful.”

Artemis turned it on full force. That was the signal for Terry to step in and play mediator. “It’s entirely up to you, Diana. Only if you’d be comfortable.”

Diana’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Oh, I’m more than willing.”

She stepped into the center of the larger living room. Anticipation hung in the air, catching their collective breaths. Diana started with a slow, deliberate twirl, and with every turn seemed to draw magic from the divine. In a gentle blur the dress faded, and was then replaced with red, gold and blue. When she stopped it was as the icon, with skirted leather armor, bracers that could deflect heavy artillery, and gleaming golden tiara resting on her brow.

Donna was awestruck. She’d seen it, but still wasn’t certain she believed it. 

Artemis, however, was in heaven. She giggled, clapped her hands, and bounced with levels of joy only a child can reach. And maybe Diana as well, who laughed an easy laugh, as bright and as clear as a bell.

Steve leaned into Terry with a grin. “I’ll be honest with you,” he whispered. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

Norman Rockwell couldn’t have laid out a more wholesome scene, with Donna and Diana sat at one side of the table, Terry and Steve on the other, and Artemis at the end positioned between her parents. Diana couldn’t help but giggle to see the smallest of them sat at the head, in a position of royalty, which she supposed she was.

 

Terry hovered over them, serving plates and pouring wine, taking the lion’s share of duties so Donna had more time for her sister. Artemis beamed as she received her own ‘special’ meal; mac and cheese with dino nuggets, paired with pineapple juice of ‘rare and fine vintage’. 

The little girl ignored her pasta and leaned forward, her attention set squarely on Diana. “Is it true you moved a whole planet?”

Diana, now back in her elegant red dress, laughed a musical laugh. “It was technically a planetoid. Much smaller than a planet. And I couldn’t have done it without the help of the Justice League. We all pushed together*.”

[*Check out Justice League: ‘Executive Orders’ for more! – Miranda]

“But there are bad guys you fight on your own, right? Like really, really strong ones?”

Steve sipped from his glass. “That’s classified, kiddo.”

“Oh, come on, Steve,” said Terry. “We’re all friends here.”

Steve raised his hands. “Alright, alright. You twisted my arm. Without going into detail, we… disbanded a faction of the Fourth Reich.”

Terry blinked. “There’s a fourth? You’d think they’d have learned after the third.”

Diana’s smirk was more muted than the others. “My hope is they will outgrow the evil they were taught,” she said. “And that their wives and children also go on to live better lives. That’ll be easier now their cell’s been disbanded.”

The words struck Donna gently. She would have never expected them, yet they didn’t surprise her. Who had sympathy for a neo-nazi, a member of one of the most vile ideologies ever produced? The answer sat beside her, just as beautiful inside as out.

Artemis grabbed a chicken nugget and pressed it into the creamy cheese, and in doing so smeared it all over her fingers.

Donna gently corrected her. “Artemis, honey. Use your fork, please.”

It was such a simple thing, but no less impactful. Diana’s sudden melancholy radiated across the table. 

“When I was a little girl my mother used to tell me off for doing the same thing,” she said. Behind the warmth came a solemn weight. She smiled not only at Donna, but through her; through all of her history. “You look a lot like her. Hippolyta, I mean.”

The room grew still. The clinking of silverware ceased. Even Artemis, sensing the shift, froze with the nugget halfway in her mouth.

Diana faltered and looked away. “I’m sorry. The news of her… it’s still fresh.”

“No, it’s… it’s alright,” Donna said. She may have whispered it, but even a whisper resonated in the quiet. She placed her hand on Diana’s and squeezed. “What was she like?”

Her sister’s gaze softened. “She was firm,” Diana said, “but she was kind. She wasn’t given to jest, but her good humor would sneak up when you least expected it.”

Donna struggled to imagine. Until a few weeks ago, she’d thought her mother died in a fire when she was too young to remember. Her foster family were real, as was the loving home they gave her, but the firmament of her being was built on sand. Learning that she was related to a queen, to a myth, was well beyond her ken.

Diana’s eyes shone with tears yet to fall. “You would have loved her, Donna. And she would have loved you just as dearly.”

It was a loss and a longing they shared. Hot, silent tears ran down Donna’s cheeks. It didn’t matter that she’d never met Hippolyta, the absence was still there. There’d been moments when she wondered if she even had a biological mother, or if that mother ever cared for her. There was the proof. That craving set in her bones, always out of reach until now, connected her through her sister’s coming to life.

“Your mommy,” Artemis said, only then wondering if she was allowed to speak, “would she be my grandma…?”

Diana paused. “Yes, I suppose she would be.” She beamed at the child. “She was also a queen. That would make you a princess.”

That was the magic word. Artemis bounced in her seat. “I’m a real princess!?” She may as well have screamed the words.

The table erupted with laughter. Thank the gods for children.

But the moment wasn’t to last. The mood broke with the sudden chime of the doorbell. Everybody looked up. They weren’t expecting anyone else, were they? 

Terry pushed his chair back. “I’ll get it.”

“It better not be a bad guy,” Artemis said, “or Diana’ll have to beat them up!”

Another ripple of laughter. Donna gently chastised her, “Artemis…” Of course she was giggling as well.

Terry returned a moment later, bemused. “We, um,” he announced, “we appear to have more guests.”

Two figures stood beside him. The first was a college-aged woman with long blonde hair, jeans and a leather jacket, looking sheepish in spite of her typical confidence. The other, and perhaps more significant figure, was a hunched crone leaning on a staff, with skin as grey as dust and eyes concealed beneath a tattered hood. Of course, those who knew her knew she had no eyes at all; at least within her head.

Diana gasped. “Ettahcandei? Cassandra? What are you doing here?”

Cassandra coughed and held out a bottle. “We, uh… we brought wine,” she said.

“Prosecco!” the crone rasped without mirth.

Terry sighed a long-suffering sigh.

“At least it pairs with the meal,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “Good thing we have extra.”

Somewhere in Deep Space:

The two heroes were only a short way inside when the hull shifted again, the massive plates closing behind them in layer after impenetrable layer. Cold bronze settled in an array of archways following a polished amber pathway that led to another doorway. The space was cavernous, like an ancient cathedral given a new sheen. The walls appeared like wood, though they were anything but that.

“Fancy,” Kyle remarked.

What followed was a growing hiss. The shift in pressure was slight, but it was comfortable. The ring’s protective aura only protected them so much from the vacuum of space.

“Good of them to provide an atmosphere,” said Kyle. “Ring reads nitrogen, oxygen, trace elements of other gasses you’d find on Earth. Seems like them rolling out the welcome mat.”

Superman said nothing, and was more focused on the great door.

“What do you see?” Kyle asked.

What Superman said was barely a mutter. “They’re here. All around us.”

The grand door split down the middle and parted, revealing more arches and a longer path. Each wall was lined with three levels, and on them were positioned row upon row of what appeared to be centurions dressed in old Roman style; more specifically female centurions, made up of humanoids and non-humanoids alike.

They stood at the ready and stared straight ahead. The message was clear: enter.

The reflections of Superman and Green Lantern shimmered on the floor as they flew deeper into the vessel. More unsettling were the sheer number of soldiers whose ranks did not diminish; were they an invasion force? They would be a formidable one if they were.

“This ship is bigger inside than out,” Superman said.

Kyle hummed. “Someone should sue for stealing their bit.”

“It could be tesseract technology,” Superman went on. “There are theories about folded space, artificial pockets in reality. Batman and Mr Terrific would have a field day with this.” 

Maybe Kyle would have been impressed if his gut weren’t turning. Fighting one bad guy was hard enough, but whole armies were next level. He only hoped that whatever waited at the end knew English enough for ‘we come in peace.’

Finally they came upon a domed area, also tiered with centurions, surrounding a raised dais. On the dais was a chiseled throne, the back of which reached to the ceiling. Standing in even number on either side of it were figures, only one in armor, all of whom were women, positioned by rank based on which step they were allowed to occupy.

Sat on the throne was a humanoid woman, legs crossed, spear in one hand, though it rested casually in a vertical position. She was as stern a figure as she was of beauty, with full lips as pronounced as the sharpness of her jaw. Her wavy hair was red like an inferno, while her arms and thighs were like the trunks of an oak. Her armor, which did not cover her neck or her arms, appeared to be some kind of leather dyed forest green, though it was probably something else, and was gilded around the rim of each plate. Over one shoulder was pinned a white cape. 

She looked down on the pair with an implacable expression, and dark, heavy eyes that could crush most men. 

Kyle leaned toward Superman. “She, uh, remind you of anyone?”

An orb-shaped woman without a torso stepped forward, held one arm beneath her mouth and tucked the other behind her back. She looked beyond the two heroes.

“You stand before Maxima, Queen of the planet Almerac, Sovereign of the Seven Star Systems, and High General of the Blood Royal Fleet. You will kneel.”

Kyle froze. Kneel? He was a Green Lantern, representing an interstellar peacekeeping force that didn’t capitulate to any sovereign. Did protocol cover this? Maybe Superman knew.

Superman didn’t kneel, but he did bow. An act of diplomacy; giving without submission. That felt like the right call, so Kyle did the same.

“Queen Maxima,” Superman said, projecting across the chamber. “We greet you on behalf of the planet Earth and its people. We recognize your sovereignty, and thank you for your invitation. It is an honor to attend your audience.”

A slow, satisfied smile crossed Maxima’s lips. “Well spoken, son of Krypton. You make a fine diplomat.”

The two heroes paused, much to the queen’s amusement.

“Are you surprised to know your reputation has traveled so far? The universe is much more connected than you realize. Your name is known as well, Green Lantern of Sector 2814, Kyle Rayner.”

Green Lantern frowned. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

“You’ll forgive us for being unfamiliar with yours, Queen Maxima,” said Superman. “We’d be glad to get to know you. Over a meal, perhaps?”

She bit her lip. Maxima appeared hungry, yes, but not for food. Lifting from her throne she sauntered from the dais, down the stairs, and toward her guests. Her offsiders retreated to the wings with the centurions, all of whom remained frozen like statues.

“I was thinking of getting to know you in a more… intimate manner.”

There weren’t many things that could make Superman balk, but innuendo, it seemed, was more effective than kryptonite.

Green Lantern cleared his throat. “Er, no offense, your majesty, but I have a girlfriend back on Earth who-”

The twirling of her spear silenced him. Of course. She was a warrior. Sex was mere revelry. Her eyes narrowed like those of a predator.

“Heroes of Earth, answer me this,” she commanded. “Would you die for your planet?”

“Yes,” Superman said. There was no hesitation. It was simple fact.

Kyle’s throat went dry. He never set out to be a hero. He was just the guy who’d stumbled across the ring. But he’d made the choice to keep wearing it, and carry all the burdens that went with it. His ring flashed with power.

“I beg your pardon, your highness, but nobody’s dying today,” he said. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Maxima’s grin was sudden and sharp, like an animal baring its teeth. It was the only warning she gave.

She charged a blur of green and gold. Her spear spun with all the force of a tornado. It sang through the air as Superman met her charge. Though he’d lunged to grapple with her, he met her weapon instead. The Man of Steel gripped the pole, his instinct to deflect the blade, but her fluid movements guided him to an open stance. She rammed the flat of her foot against his gut, kicking him with all the power of a stellar beast, and sent him flying across the chamber.

“Superman!” Green Lantern’s ring flared with alarm. 

His teammate hadn’t made impact with the chamber wall before Kyle let loose a wide, concussive blast. A wall of hard light drove forward, but Maxima didn’t so much as flinch. She simply turned so that the blade, which had been refined to slice atoms, drove through the emerald construct. It might have been a fatal blow had Kyle not rolled to the side, suffering only a slice.

Having shaken off the impact, Superman charged again like a red-and-blue missile. Alas, Maxima knew how to handle a one-trick pony, turned to let him pass, and struck as she rounded back. It was not a physical blow. The psionic wave that burst from her hand wracked the Man of Steel with pain, both in mind and body. From the core of his being he burned, causing him to stumble.

A lesser warrior might have stopped to gloat, but Maxima had yet to fell her foes. She turned again, snagged the Green Lantern, and twisted his arm behind his back. Kyle’s limb screamed as she pulled, then he fell as she swept his feet from under him. He felt the point of her weapon aimed between his ribs; Maxima was positioned for the kill.

Suddenly, a beam of heat seared Maxima’s hand. She grunted, pulled back, and in her surprise let the spear fall. Despite being shaken, Superman charged a third time. She might have been impressed by his fortitude if he weren’t so predictable.

With strength and deftness, she snatched the dazed Green Lantern from the ground and held him like a living shield. If Superman wanted to bowl her down, he’d have to take his friend with her.

Superman clamoured to stop, but had gained too much momentum. That hesitation left more than enough time for Maxima to evade, leaving the two champions to collide and crash in a tangle of limbs. 

They pushed themselves to their knees. Superman slammed a fist to the ground. Kyle could only stare, bewildered, at the might of Maxima. Her laughter echoed through the chamber. The centurions didn’t laugh, but many broke a smirk.

The queen planted a foot on Superman’s chest, not as an attack, but as a gesture. Her violence eased, but still poised to reignite.

“Do you yield?”

“Never,” Superman spat. He shoved her foot away in disgust.

She ignored him, and gazed upon the other champion. “And you, Kyle Rayner. Do you yield?”

“Never say die,” Kyle groaned, still shaking.

She hummed with a triumphant smile, then, without ceremony, stepped away and turned her back. Gone was the posture of the predator, now morphed into that of a stateswoman.

“This match is a draw,” she declared. It was a magnanimous decision on her part, and most in attendance agreed. “Both of you possess incredible strength and force of will, but neither of you have a warrior’s finesse.”

Kyle seethed. He opened his mouth, but a hand from Superman told him better.

Superman rose to his feet. His strength was incredible. It must have been to keep his humiliation in check. “And your strength is… formidable, Queen Maxima. Was that encounter ‘intimate’ enough for you?”

Her gaze softened. A flicker of whimsy danced behind her otherwise stoic expression. “Yes. Quite. Thank you.”

Superman and Green Lantern exhaled. Talk about culture shock. Some shocks, however, landed harder than others. 

“Why have you come to our system?” Superman asked.

Maxima reclaimed her throne, and perhaps for the first time since their meeting turned serious. “Because this system is not just a stop on a journey,” she said. “This planet, Earth, is my native home. I’m on a pilgrimage, you see.”

Kyle blinked. “You mean you’re human?”

“Indeed,” she said. “And now, I have a request. One the both of you are qualified to fulfil.”

Superman frowned. “Name it, and we’ll see what we can do.”

“Oh, this should be simple enough,” mused Maxima. “I wish for an audience with the one you call ‘Wonder Woman’.”

Celestial City:

The table, which was designed to seat six, was becoming decidedly crowded. Cassandra was given a seat at the corner, wedged next to Diana. Beside her at the head of the table opposite Artemis was Ettahcandei, as sage and stoic as she ever was. The fact that she was uninvited didn’t appear to faze her in the least.

Terry, ever the good host, set two extra places, served two extra plates, and began to pour the wine. First for Ettahcandei, then he set upon another for Cassandra.

“Oh, no, I can’t,” Cassandra said, holding a hand over her glass. “I’m not twenty-one yet.”

Terry winked. “I won’t tell.”

“Terry.” Donna’s tone was gentle yet firm. He set the bottle down and returned to his seat.

Silence settled over the gathering. The warmth of the room had well and truly dissipated. Despite having no visible eyes, Ettahcandei’s gaze never wavered from Terry. Terry made a point to ignore her, instead focusing on the garlic bread.

Finally, Donna, desperate to break the spell, turned to their guests. “Diana didn’t tell me she’d invited others.”

“She didn’t,” said Cassandra with a flush. “We were, um, just in the neighborhood…”

Diana pursed her lips. “I have a hard time believing that. Ettahcandei, would you mind telling us what you’re really doing here?”

Ettahcandei said nothing. She only stared, and Terry continued to ignore her.

More silence. More awkwardness. Again it fell to Donna to break the cycle.

“So,” she said, looking to Cassandra for help, “how do you all know each other?”

Cassandra perked up. “Diana saved my life once,” she said cheerily. She exhaled as well, just as eager to lift the mood.

Diana smiled warmly. “And Ettahcandei,” she explained, turning to Donna, “is also from Themyscira. Though she left the island a long, long time ago, well before I was born.”

Artemis’s eyes went wide. “You’re an Amazon, too!?”

“Yes,” Ettahcandei rasped, her voice devoid of emotion. Her head did not turn from Terry.

Pushing through the thickening awkwardness, Donna peered back and forth between the old woman and her husband. “Do you two know each other?”

“No,” Terry said, taking a sip of his wine.

“Yes,” Ettahcandei rasped.

The silence grew even sharper.

Terry chuckled. “Well, I’m sure I’d remember if we had,” he said. “Perhaps you should remind me.”

Still, Ettahcandei said nothing.

Cassandra cleared her throat. A bullhorn would have been less intrusive. “She’s been training me,” she offered. “For some secret mission, though she won’t tell me what it is.”

Diana’s expression warmed. “I’m sure you’re a pupil, Cassandra, whatever the task may be.”

Artemis gasped again, and clapped as she bounced. “You could be Wonder Girl!”

Finally, laughter, at last. But Donna barely heard it. She was caught in the standoff between her husband and the blind Amazon.

Suddenly, a cell phone rang with an insistent trill. Steve fumbled in his pocket. “Excuse me,” he said, and stepped into the adjoining hallway. He was barely gone a moment before he returned. 

“Thank you for dinner,” he said to Terry and Donna. He locked onto Diana. “We have to move. We’ve got incoming.”

Diana leapt from the chair, stopping only to mouth an apology to her sister. She and Steve made for the door.

Donna’s heart lurched. She wanted to call out, but knew better. A superheroine was always on duty. The guest of honor was gone, leaving her with her daughter, a husband locked in a staring contest with an eyeless crone, and a young woman on the corner just as bewildered as she was.

Artemis slipped from her seat and ran for the door. 

“Wait for me!” she cried.

“Artemis! No!”

Donna sprinted after the little girl.

Cassandra hesitated a moment longer before following.

Diana and Steve had barely made it to the lawn when they saw it; a solitary star, brighter than the others, almost brighter than the moon, falling toward them, growing larger the longer they fixed on it.

Steve stood speechless. What could he do in the face of that? But where he was stunned, Diana planted her feet, as though able to deflect the object in the same way she did bullets.

Suddenly, two figures emerged from the light and set down on the lawn. Superman and Green Lantern landed without impact, making no noise beyond the soft woosh of air. Neither seemed happy. Then again, there was rarely a reason to be when the big names got together. 

“Diana,” Superman said, “we got here as fast as we could.”

Artemis skidded to a halt in front of them, star-struck, as though the sky wasn’t falling in. “You didn’t tell me Superman and Green Man were going to be here!”

“It’s Green Lantern,” Kyle panted, “and you should probably go inside, kid.”

Donna and Cassandra emerged, both pale faced with worry. 

“Artemis, get back inside!” Donna called, but faltered the moment she looked up. She fumbled for her daughter and pulled her into her arms, never looking away from the growing light.

Small flashes winked at the gathering, then winked faster, each time brighter than the last. Soon it was blinding, and all but Superman and Wonder Woman reeled in the face of it. The light then eased, giving way to the body of red and gold the width of a mountain range that filled the entire sky. 

Something so vast, so heavy, could only be perceived as a threat in how it loomed; yet Diana stayed her hand, allowing her curiosity to take the lead.

“Superman, what’s going on?” Diana half-asked, though she’d rather see the truth for herself.

The hull cracked open. Great, golden plates shifted at side angles, peeling away layers from the inside, and made way for the figure on a floating platform. The stranger emerged, stepped from the platform with a royal grace, and descended as one would if ushered by wind. 

The figure arched upward and tossed her hair back. Her green and gold armor gleamed under the ship’s light. When she spoke it was with the same clear and powerful cadence she might when addressing a great assembly. 

“Hail, Diana! Daughter of Hippolyta! Princess of Themyscira! I greet you on behalf of the planet Almerac! I am Queen Maxima… former champion of the Amazons!”

To be continued…

* * * *

NEXT ISSUE: Ancient Amazon astronauts? In MY Wonder Woman mythos? It’s more likely than you think. Stay tuned for part 2 of ‘Star Crossed’.

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