Movement, most notable by streaking white lines so numerous as to blend together into a scintillating, monochromatic blur, suddenly slowed. The ship's visuals reported the sudden deceleration by shortening the lines into mere white dots, moving solidly against the blackness.
The center of the screen soon showed an anomaly amongst the black and white; a tiny blue dot, slowly but steadily growing larger. A practiced hand operated the console below the screen, expanding the image to several times its original size. Land masses, hidden in many places by white cloud cover, rose brown and verdant both from the huge masses of water dominating the sphere. Yes, this was it, the very sphere home to part of his lineage.
It seemed quaint, really. To look at, quite unimportant. Yet, so much drama had occurred, and likely still would, for whatever reason due to various importances assigned to this rock by Powers That Be established eons upon eons before life of any kind oozed and spread across its primitive surface. And yet, up until fairly recently, every inhabitant of this planet was certain that it was the center of the universe.
My, how things change.
Uncertain as to the total range of the native planetary sensors (or even if they had systemwide sensory technology), it was probably best to make his presence as least detectable as possible. A few icon taps on a virtual board enabled vocal commands, and the pilot spoke a base few words to the onboard intelligence.
"خاموش چلانے جہاز کی چادر ، کے ساتھ روابط بڑھائے ."
The ship slowed just a bit more, unnecessary lights dimming. Ion engine noise lessened considerably, and to anyone attempting to view the shapely, vaguely triangular vessel from outside, it seemed to have blurred and vanished.
"بہترین . ایک پرسکون اترنے کے لئے تیار ."
The display blinked a query. From the look of the images on the screen, it was a question of geography. The pilot smiled, amused at himself for forgetting something as simple as the landing point. Any reasonably built up world would have had appropriate planetary coordinates sent out to incoming ships, but this spinning blue mass wasn't quite there yet.
Examining the geographical features around his intended destination on the planet, he addressed onboard navigational directly.
"بہترین . ایک پرسکون اترنے کے لئے تیار ." He pressed a secluded looking spot on the map, and continued. "سے باہر کے بارے میں دو سو میل ..." Though seeming to have a little trouble forming the last word, he pushed through it admirably to finish with: "...Metropolis."
***
The ship landed undetected amongst tall peaks and evergreen trees. The scent of pine and freshly moved earth floated on the breeze as the pilot emerged from a dark recess in the side of a cliff face. From the air, merely a crack in the mountainside; but from dead on it exposed enough space to hover an Imperial Corvette into, which is precisely what had just occurred.
He stepped out into the bright, dazzling light of the high sun and breathed deeply of Earth's native air. Something about this was absolutely invigorating. He stared upwards, looking at the light filtering through the needle-bearing trees, and understood that he wanted more of this radiance. The planetary newcomer crossed his arms and raised himself from the ground, in defiance of gravity.
Chasing the growing exposure of this yellow brilliance, he levitated ever faster to clear the treeline, to break into open air. In short seconds, he basked in its warm glow. Many minutes passed before he remembered that he came all this way for a purpose, and should probably return to it. Still keeping under the undiluted rays of the sun, the traveler got his bearings and flew, blurring his image for his speed, eastward.
***
Some time had passed before he realized that he was unsure of the proper direction. This planet moved at a constant rate, but it also seemed to have a tilt to it, something he did not account for. To his credit, the same planetwide systems that would have given him proper landing coordinates (that this one obviously did not have) would have also oriented his landbound navigation. Against his credit, he had just overlooked this earlier and felt like a moron for it. Nothing else to do but to ask a native for directions.
He got his chance very soon.
The older gentleman looked to be fixing a fence outside of a private residence. You'd have thought he had soiled himself by the reaction he gave, seeing someone in black, white, and gold Almeracian combat garb slowly and silently descending from the sky. As soon as the elder man got a good look at his face, however, something akin to hope spread across it. Hope, and lots of confusion.
"آپ کو طریقہ معلوم کریں ... Metropolis?" He tried again, slower and more enunciated. Yeah, like that was going to help. "Metro... ...polis?" Maybe he was saying it wrong. Either way, he didn't have time for this. The visitor reached into the mind of the native with an extension of his own will, and sought the information for himself.
"You will have to pardon my intrusion, um, Jimmy? Jim. Whatever."
So this was English. Coarse tongue, little in the way of artistry. Few structural rules - almost chaotic. But it would do.
"I understand that you have a "Smart Phone" on your person?"
The man, Jim, was shocked utterly. But he nodded and pulled out a largish mobile device. The visitor produced a small, translucent rectangle about the size of a thumbnail and held it over the earthly tech. He then inserted it into a slot on the wrist of his uniform.
"As do I, now. Thank you."
***
His experience with the Internet was horrifying. Let us say, there are certain words he would never include in a Google search ever again, although he was intrigued by a creature the Earthlings referred to as a "Cat". Eventually, he located the proper directions to his destination in Metropolis, and sent a message to his point of contact within the League.
Well, if not his contact, then his family's contact. He had no idea who it was, at any rate. The gist of it could be summarized as: "Almeracian Imperial Royalty requesting an audience with the League of Justice. Envoy requiring diplomatic courtesy."
A bit slower now, the visitor flew toward the distant cityscape in a standing position, hands crossed in front of him. His long, white cape flapped indiscriminately in the wind, somewhat to his annoyance. He was curious as to whether he could find some way to lose or destroy the cape before long, symbol of his status be damned.
