[b][i]Atop the Mothership...[/i][/b]

The newcomer looked between the welcoming party and her spear, and promptly returned it to where it came from, the weapon in question fizzling away into golden arcs of energy. 

[color=fdc68a]"I need not insult Thunderlance with your blood - whatever you may be. Your technology is not alien to me, so you may know what I am."[/color] Her odd, different voice carried through the air even at such altitudes, unwavering and carrying all the weight of a mountain behind the words. [color=fdc68a]"If you know what I am - if you understand me - then you will hold fire and put down your weapons. Fail to do so, and I will scatter you. The choice is yours."[/color] Even if she was not understood in word, the feeling of what she was saying was very clear; an ultimatum for them to decide on. 

Her eyes change from pure white, [i]igniting[/i] into a fierce red-orange, the energy pouring out from them with a distinct Kirby-krakle. She took a step step forward, a movement promising only pain to the aliens if they failed to comply with her demands. Her very body promised the exact same thing, stood 'normally', but clearly wound to pounce with inhuman levels of strength at the first sign of an attack. She would not be denied, one way or another. 

Be they from New Genesis or Apokolips, the New Gods are universal legends, entities from beyond normal space with an immense connection to the Source its self. To pick a fight with one was akin to trying to throw down with a Kryptonian under a yellow sun - worse so in some cases. If they were not silly, they would listen to her demands... not that she did not welcome the opportunity to stretch a little.