#1 - SUBJUGATION

By Dale Glaser

TO THOSE WHO KNEW THE UNIVERSE'S NEED FOR ORDER, the year was 3,172,859,043.

As the denizens of the planet Tamaran reckoned time, however, it was 5733, in the season of Z'urom. Astrologically, it was the day after the planet's perihelion, but the Tamaraneans did not mark this event in particular. It began as a common enough day to the natives of the planet. It would end as the most significant in Tamaran's history.

All landmasses on Tamaran were covered in lush, tropical vegetation, and the humble buildings of the Tamaraneans rarely rose higher than the leafy canopies of the jungles. The exceptions were the castles of the ruling families of each landmass, such as the skyward-reaching towers of the palace where King Remmand'r and his kin dwelled. As the cool morning air began to be warmed by the sun, and the twin moons of Tamaran began to grow pale in the golden sky, the king stood upon a parapet of the castle, accompanied by his young son, Prince Myand'r. Remmand'r was a tall, strong man, with a long mane of reddish-brown hair and a beard that reached the lower tip of his breastbone. Myand'r was still beardless, and his hair did not yet reach his shoulders, but the resemblance between father and son was unmistakable. Both shared the same fierce green eyes, the same regal lines in their orange-skinned faces.

"The planet is at peace," Remmand'r sighed deeply.

"Yes, father," Myand'r responded.

"Never can you feel that peace more deeply than in the moments just after sunrise, my son," Remmand'r intoned, turning his eyes from the horizon and locking his gaze on the prince. "I rise with the sun so that I may feel Tamaran's peace in my soul, and never take it for granted. I trust you see the wisdom in that."

"Yes, father," Myand'r nodded. Together they stared out across the verdant expanse, looking to the sky. The young prince noticed a flash of emerald light overhead, like a green shooting star moving in slow motion. "Father, what is that?" Myand'r asked.

King Remmand'r scrutinized the descending light. "I do not know, son," the ruler admitted. "Perhaps we should ascertain its nature for ourselves."

The two royal Tamaraneans flew off the parapet, their reddish hair seeming to trail behind them in energy streams dozens of yards long. Together they rose into the atmosphere and approached the falling globe of green. The shimmering emerald shape seemed to slow further as they neared it, finally coming to a stop and hovering in mid-air. King Remmand'r and Prince Myand'r watched with silent curiosity as the green glow became translucent and revealed two figures at its center. The first stood only half as tall as the Tamaranean king, and was roughly humanoid in shape, although its limbs ended in tentacle-like tapers and its head was large and bulbous, the flesh tan with dark brown splotches, dominated by large, black eyes. The second was slightly larger than Remmand'r, heavily muscled, with dark pink skin and jet black hair. Both figures were dressed completely in black, a single piece of form-fitting clothing that left only their heads exposed. In the center of each creature's chest, the black was interrupted by a green sigil, a circle with angular peaks at the top and bottom. The same sigil formed the crest of a glowing green ring, on the tip of upper right tentacle or the knuckle of middle right finger.

"This planet is now to be under subjugation in the name of the Guardians of the Universe," the smaller, splotchy creature proclaimed, the words issuing from a cilia-lined oral groove below its dark eyes.

If King Remmand'r was surprised that the creature spoke in his planet's tongue, he did not show it. "Our world is our own," the elder Tamaranean retorted. "We will not be subjugated, today or ever."

The tentacled creature pointed its ring at the king. A lance of jade energy projected from the face of the ring and impaled Remmand'r, who growled in pain but quickly fell silent as the ever-widening beam of hard light stole his life. The black-clad alien lowered its tentacle and the green light weapon dissipated, allowing Remmand'r's disemboweled carcass to fall from the sky.

Myand'r had frozen in shock and fear when the alien had attacked his father, but now threw himself at the creature, screaming with frenzied rage. Its brawny companion aimed his ring at the newly-ascendant young king and bands of green light appeared around Myand'r's body, pinning him in place. The young king struggled furiously, but could not escape the light construct.

The smaller creature pointed at the castle below. "Is that the seat of power?" it asked dispassionately.

Myand'r spat at the bulbous head of his interrogator.

"It is now a Citadel of the Green Lantern Army," the alien announced, ignoring Myand'r's disrespect. The two uniformed aliens began to fall through the air again, bearing down on the palace with Myand'r in tow. The castle guard briefly resisted the invaders, but were quickly dispatched or imprisoned by the power rings the aliens wielded. In time, the other ruling houses of Tamaran raised armies of their own to attack the slayers of Remmand'r and usurpers of Myand'r's throne, but the Green Lanterns made short work of them, as well. Tamaran was subjugated.

TO THOSE WHO KNEW THE UNIVERSE'S NEED FOR ORDER, the year was 3,172,859,044.

According to the sentient inhabitants of the planet Rann, conversely, it was the 37th year of the rule of Sardath, scientific genius and sovereign of the city-state Ranagar. By the calendar, it was exactly one week after the twelfth birthmoon of Sareth's granddaughter Aleea, a day that had been marked by great festivities spread throughout Ranagar from sunrise to sunset. This day began more routinely. It would end in a manner most unprecedented.

Sareth was immersed in research in his laboratory, and paid little heed at first to a scanning beacon signaling an unrecognized object entering Rann's atmosphere. However, as the beeping became louder and higher-pitched, indicating tremendous energy-readings associated with the object, Sareth set aside his current endeavor and focused on the scanning beacon's display. After a few moments' observation, Sareth moved quickly to a separate section of the laboratory, where his Zeta Beam transmitter was housed. He activated the transmitter, firing the powerful radiation that would summon his son-in-law across the void of space.

Adam Strange materialized in Sareth's laboratory fifteen minutes later, and although he had spent great spans of time with Ranagar's chief scientist in the past, he scarcely recognized the chamber. It was in total disarray, all of the scientific equipment overturned, fragmented or completely pulverized. Instinctively, Strange unholstered his raygun as he walked out of the Zeta Beam transmitter chamber.

In the adjacent room, the destruction was worse, with holes blasted in the walls of the laboratory and most of the equipment mangled or exploded. Sareth lay prone in the middle of the floor, disheveled and bloodied. Over him stood a thick-limbed humanoid, clad in a skintight black uniform with a green symbol emblazoned on its chest. The head of the creature was a wide lump of flesh with dark gray skin, and long sharp tusks rose from its jaw to points higher than its beady black eyes.

Adam Strange fired his raygun at the creature, but the alien simply raised its right hand, where it wore a green ring. A disc of emerald light appeared in mid-air and shielded it from Strange's shot. The disc then rushed forward, ramming into Strange and crushing him between its slid light surface and the far wall. Before he blacked out from the incredible pressure, Adam Strange heard the creature say, "This planet is under subjugation in the name of the Guardians of the Universe."

The people of Ranagar mounted what counter-offensive they could against the Green Lantern soldier, but they had long been accustomed to the protection of Adam Strange. Those brave enough to face the alien in combat found only death at the pointed end of green solid-light weapons. Rann was subjugated.

TO THOSE WHO KNEW THE UNIVERSE'S NEED FOR ORDER, the year was 3,172,859,045.

In different cultures spread across the surface of the planet Earth, the date varied. On the Hebrew calendar, the year was 5736. Theravada Buddhists knew the year as 2519. In China, the Year of the Dragon 4674 was approaching its halfway mark. The relatively new Gregorian calendar proclaimed the exact date to be July 4, 1976. In the world's history, the day held no religious or secular significance, except in a country called America, where every year the citizens celebrated their emancipation from colonial rule by a kingdom across the sea. 1976 marked the bicentennial of this independence, declared in a document dated the Fourth of July, and as the day dawned it promised to be the culmination of patriotic exultation in the birth of a nation. That promise would be violently broken.

In the city of New York, thousands upon thousands of Americans dressed in red, white and blue had gathered for the pageantry that would unfold upon that day. The city harbor was full of tall sailing ships, proudly flying the American flag and recalling the era when the principles of freedom had taken root in the land. But the brightest colors of all garbed a group of seven men and one woman, who stood in a line upon a wooden rostrum on a pier overlooking New York Harbor. They were old, reaching the end of the natural lifespans for natives of the planet Earth. Yet the crowds cheered the band of eight, and the eight, despite their age, waved enthusiastically and smiled brightly at the thronging masses.

At the left end of the line of figures on the rostrum was Al Pratt, wearing a bright blue cowl that covered his entire face save for eyeholes, with a matching waist-length cape. His shirt was yellow and his shorts and boots were brown. "It's like we just came home from trouncing the Ratzis yesterday, huh, Rex?" he asked.

Rex Tyler, standing beside Pratt, wore a black costume trimmed in yellow, including a yellow hood that covered the upper half of his face and a full-length yellow cape. "I don't know, Al," he replied while rubbing his paunchy belly, "the togs sure don't fit as well as they did thirty years ago."

"I believe young Al was referring to our reception, not our physiques," interjected Carter Hall, standing on the other side of Tyler. Hall wore green pants and red boots, a yellow harness across his chest, and a feathered orange helmet with a golden beak. Large gray wings were affixed to the back of his harness. His bare skin was wrinkled around the joints, but he appeared in excellent physical condition.

"'Young Al'?" Pratt snorted. "I'm fifty-four years old, birdbrain."

"And I'm sixty-four," Hall reminded his colleague. "Time's had its way with us all."

"I'll say. Even I'm feeling a little slower these days," Jay Garrick added from his place beside Hall. Garrick wore blue pants and a red shirt bearing a large yellow lightning bolt. Atop his head rested a silver helmet with mercurial wings.

"I find that very hard to believe," objected Dinah Laurel, standing to the right of Garrick. She wore dark blue boots and a dark blue leotard that covered her plump legs. She also wore a light blue coat, and a fishnet pattern of the same light blue had been painted onto her pantlegs. "There's not a force on Earth or in Heaven above that could slow you down, Jay," she opined, tossing her long blond hair as she switched hands to continue waving to the onlookers.

"Ever the flatterer, Dinah," Wesley Dodds rejoined, his voice muffled by the bright yellow faceplate rebreather he wore. A deep olive-colored suit rested on his frail frame, and a dark blue cape hung across his back, slightly hunched as he leaned heavily on a cane. He raised an orange-gloved hand to wave at the crowd, but quickly returned it to the head of the cane for support.

"Yeah, that's pretty much why we let her hang around with us all these years," Ted Grant chuckled, as he alternated between waving energetically and flexing his biceps, which were clad, like the rest of his body, in skintight blue. His face was mostly obscured by a cat's-head mask. "Nothing like a dame who ain't stingy with the kind words."

"Nothing at all," Dr. Charles McNider agreed with a smile. The gray-bearded physician wore a red tunic over black shirt and leggings, with brown leather swashbuckler boots and brown gloves. The ensemble was completed by a green cape and cowl, fitted with dark goggles and bearing a crescent moon on the forehead.

The president of the United States, Gerald Ford, stepped up to the podium on the far left side of the rostrum. There was a brief whine of electrical feedback from the large microphones clustered atop the podium, and then President Ford addressed the crowd. "My fellow Americans, it is with great pleasure that I once again extend the thanks of a grateful nation to those men and women who fought for our freedom and for the cause of democracy and liberty throughout the world. The principles that meant so much to our founding fathers two hundred years ago are embodied so clearly in the Atom … Hourman … Hawkman … the Flash … Black Canary … the Sandman … Wildcat … and Dr. Mid-Nite … that it is only fitting that we honor them on this bicentennial. Ladies and gentlemen, the Justice Society of America!"

The crowd's exuberance was unmistakable, as wave after wave of applause mingled with whistles and shouts resounded across the harbor. Alfred Pennyworth looked to the eleven-year-old boy beside him and was pleased to see Master Bruce joining in with hearty claps of his own. The boy was not smiling, he almost never had in the three years since the … unfortunate … loss of his parents, but still young Bruce seemed to take some enjoyment from the festivities. Alfred was glad he had decided to bring the boy to New York for the day, if only to get him out of the gloomy Wayne mansion near Gotham for a little while.

In another section of the crowd, Jonathan Kent held up his son Clark for a better view of the World War Two mystery men. Clark was beaming, as only an eight-year-old could. Jonathan glanced at his wife Martha, and was unsurprised to see her beaming at the boy. They considered themselves extraordinarily lucky to have found the strange rocketship near their farm five years earlier, containing an orphan toddler as if in answer to their prayers. The trip from Smallville, Kansas to New York City for the bicentennial had been expensive, but to the Kents, it was like a pilgrimage, a way of showing their thankfulness for their own American miracle.

Irene Miller smiled wistfully at the spectacle of the Justice Society on the red-white-and-blue bunting-draped rostrum. She wished Alan Scott were there to see them as well. As a wartime correspondent for the Gotham Broadcasting Service, Alan had taken a special interest in following the exploits of the legendary Justice Society. It was almost as if he believed that he belonged among their ranks, dressed in some outlandish costume and fighting deadly enemies with his own amazing abilities. But Alan Scott had no such powers, except a strong voice and a sense of patriotism. That same patriotism had led him to cover battles in Korea in the 50's just as he had in France in the 40's. Unfortunately, in Korea he had met his untimely end when his jeep had been caught in a communist bombing run. Irene missed him still.

President Ford raised both his hands in an effort to quiet the crowd. "Thanks to the Justice Society, we have …" The president trailed off as the entire crowd before him suddenly lost their smiles and stopped applauding, shielding their eyes instead against a harsh green glare that erupted in the sky overhead. Amidst the gasps of fear, President Ford turned around and looked up.

Three shapes floated high above New York's harbor, each wreathed in shimmering verdant energy. Like green shooting stars in slow motion, the three shapes descended, trailing emerald fire. They came to a stop over the heads of the president, his secret servicemen, and the Justice Society of America.

All three shapes were creatures in black uniforms. The first looked extremely human, except for his lime-green skin and his bright yellow hair. The second was monstrous, a rotund cross between a gorilla and an insect with a head like an exposed orange dinosaur skull with a shock of orange hair. The third was a foot-long aquatic slug, covered in gray scales and floating in a clear, fluid-filled sphere three feet in diameter. The green-skinned humanoid and his beastly companion both wore a green ring on a finger, while the slug's globe was banded by an oversized version of the same ring.

"This planet is under subjugation in the name of the Guardians of the Universe," the green-skinned alien announced, in a tone that expected no argument.

"Come down here and say that to my face!" the Atom yelled, brandishing a fist at the invaders.

"Glonth, say it to his face," the green-skinned alien commanded. The brutish alien at his side dove through the air, showing a draconian row or knobby vertebrae rising along his back. Bony orange jaws opened wide, and a serpentine tongue tipped with fangs lashed outward. The Green Lantern held one clawed hand outward, and projected a massive emerald fist which crashed into the Atom. The stocky Justice Society member went flying backwards, accompanied by the sounds of multiple bones snapping.

The rest of the Justice Society of America moved into action. Hawkman shot into the air and flew towards the alien in the globe. The Flash ran off the rostrum and skimmed across the surface of the harbor, chasing after the Atom. Wildcat launched himself at Glonth, with Black Canary following close behind. Sandman unclipped his gas gun from his belt, Hourman swallowed a hastily produced Miraclo pill, and Dr. Mid-Nite withdrew two blackout bombs from a hip pouch.

Hawkman drew level with the Green Lantern of Gil'Dishpan, and held his spike mace high over his head. "We have faced down tyrants with delusions of grandeur before," Hawkman said gravely, "but never one foolish enough to charge into battle in a glass chariot." With that, Hawkman swung his mace at the ring-banded sphere.

The head of the ancient Egyptian weapon bounced harmlessly off the clear globe, and Hawkman grunted in surprise. The gray slug spoke telepathically to the winged wonder: "Your weapon cannot pierce my cybernetic transport shell, Earthling. Yet my weapon is the most powerful in the universe." A solid-light cannon materialized from the ring's face, and a blast of fiery viridian plasma erupted from its muzzle. The plasma struck Hawkman squarely in the chest, and he fell from the sky with a smoking crater in his flesh.

Wildcat landed on Glonth's back, and wrapped his arms around the creature's thick neck. Glonth pointed a claw backwards and unleashed a shower of razor-edged shards of green light at the former heavyweight. The volley drew blood, but Wildcat held fast to the Green Lantern.

Black Canary tried to roll under the head of the monstrous alien, but Glonth caught her with the back of a claw, sending her staggering backwards. Hourman came up behind her, and Black Canary urged him onward. "The ring, Rex," she said adamantly, "try to get the ring away from it!"

Hourman charged forward, angling for Glonth's right claw. Glonth swung the appendage hard, but with the strength of ten men Hourman grappled the claw and stood his ground. He reached for the ring just as the jade weapon flared to life, writhing tendrils of green energy snaking outward and wrapping themselves around Hourman's wrists and ankles. The tendrils pulled his limbs in four different directions, and Hourman screamed as his joints were wrenched violently apart.

Sandman aimed his gas gun at the green-skinned alien and fired a cloud of sleeping gas, and Dr. Mid-Nite followed suit with his blackout bombs. The Green Lantern of Colu remained implacable, and did not even uncross his arms. But the ring on his right hand projected a long, snaking shaft of energy, with propeller fanblades spaced throughout its length. The glowing green tube sucked in the knockout gas and the inky blackout clouds from the air around the Green Lantern, while its other end extended towards the rostrum, then branched into two extensions.

The first fork pointed at Black Canary and expelled Sandman's knockout gas, overwhelming the heroine until she coughed herself to unconsciousness. The second fork redirected the blackout bombs to collide with the Flash, who was racing back to the rostrum with the maimed body of the Atom in his arms. The blinded speedster's momentum carried him directly into Sandman, and the heroes sprawled across the rostrum in a painful tangle. The Green Lantern of Colu withdrew the tube, willing it to whip across the back of Dr. Mid-Nite's legs as it swept back across the rostrum, bringing the doctor to his knees.

Glonth, growing weary of the bothersome Earthman on his back, mentally commanded his ring to surround his body in a thin green forcefield. Glonth then caused the forcefield to project spikes, several of which skewered Wildcat's vital organs. When Glonth dissipated the forcefield, the lifeless Wildcat slid off his back.

The Green Lantern of Gil'Dishpan projected a chain of heavy emerald restraints and gathered up Black Canary, the Flash, and Dr. Mid-Nite, as well as President Ford. The unmoving bodies of Sandman, the Atom, Hourman and Wildcat were left on the rostrum, while Hawkman's smoldering remains floated in the harbor.

The New York City crowd had been silenced, some of them running far away as fast as their legs could carry them but many onlookers simply frozen in place by fear. The Green Lanterns flew over the crowd slowly, impressing their presence on the multitude.

In the days to follow, the military attempted to oppose the three aliens, but found all of their weaponry as easily thwarted as the Justice Society themselves. Shortly after America had surrendered, the Soviet Union launched a nuclear strike. Every ICBM was deflected into space by the Green Lanterns, who then launched their own counter-offensive against the Soviets. Once the other world superpower had been defeated, the rest of the planet offered no significant resistance.

Earth was subjugated.

TO BE CONTINUED ...