Donna Troy, Funeral of Wesley Dodds

Last but certainly not least to arrive for Wesley’s funeral was the royal party from Themyscira. Leading the way of course was Diana. And even though she was heartbroken at murder of Wesley, she was still the proud and regal Queen of the Amazons. Heads turned just as soon as she entered, and as the party continued onwards, members of the League came forward to quickly exchange a friendly word her.

Following close behind her sister was Donna, the Amazon Polemarch, and Donna’s aide Juno. Unlike her sister, not nearly as many came forward to greet Donna, but there were still a few that she hadn’t seen for a very, very long time. Dick waved, while Kori gave her an extended embrace as the party passed. It was an unfortunate fact of life that funerals tended to be one of the few times most of the older members of the League gathered together these days. And despite the tragedy of Wesley’s death, many were happy to see old friends, colleagues, and yes, even family.

She saw him waiting under a tree just a bit out of the way. Robert had been chatting with a League member Donna didn’t recognize, and when he spied her, he excused himself. He was taller than Donna, at over 6 feet and his frame was lean and muscular, a gift from his Amazonian heritage. He was handsome to say the least, and dressed in his red and white Darkstar exo-mantle he looked every inch the hero, even despite the black armband.

But to Donna he was much more than that. He was her only son, and despite the subdued atmosphere, she couldn’t help but be happy to see him. It had been too long since a visit, their most recent attempt dashed with the invasion of Thailand.

“Your Royal Highness, Polemarch” Robert said, bowing slightly to his aunt. Even though they were family, protocol still had to be followed, at least initially. However, with that out of the way. Robert immediately dropped all sense of formality.

“Aunt Diana,” Robert said with a huge grin, “you’re looking wonderful, as always.” Diana leaned forward to briefly embrace her nephew, “Flatterer,” Diana said with a smile. “It is good to see you Robert.”

Diana disengaged and glanced back at her sister. “Don’t take too long you two,” she said with a brief grin before moving on.

“Hello, mother,” Robert said after his aunt departed. He kissed Donna on the cheek before the two embraced in a big mother-son hug.

“It’s been too long Robert,” Donna said.

“I know, I know, but you know how it is,” he replied.

“Yes, I do,” Donna said, a slightly sad tone in her voice. She still regretted all those years she had missed being there for her son. Mother and son disengaged and Donna took a step back.

“You look good,” she said after she had visually inspected him.

“Thanks,” Robert quietly replied, a little embarrassed. His mother might be a mighty Amazon warrior, but she could also be such a mom sometimes.

Donna turned to move onwards, giving Robert a chance to sneak a wink and a quick smile to Juno before the three continued on. The brief walk gave Robert and Donna a few moments to catch up before joining the rest of the crowd around the funeral site.

As they merged into the crowd, Donna could feel a very slight tug at her uniform near her belt. Reaching down, she found a slip of paper expertly placed there. She shook her head and smiled. Any number of people in this crowd could have pulled off that trick, so she didn’t even try to guess who it was. She opened the note and was surprised to find what it said:

Polemarch-

Please come up to the tower and visit me after Wesley’s service.

I have a proposal you need to hear out.

It was hand signed ‘Albert’

“Luthor” Donna thought.

She hadn’t though about him in a while, and suddenly realized that he was not among the mourners.

“Probably a good thing,” Donna realized.

That name always seemed to bring controversy, which was the last thing needed at Wesley’s funeral. Albert claimed he was on our side, but trusting him was still hard to do for many members of the League, Donna included. And for all the good he did, he seemed too clinical and unfeeling most of the time. Still, her sister gave Luthor a chance to prove himself, and Donna had reluctantly as well, as long as he stayed away from the Amazon and her charges. And he had honored that request, at least until now

“What could he want with me?” Donna asked herself. It couldn’t be anything good.

She sighed as she closed the note and tucked it away, drawing a brief look of concern from Robert. Donna patted him on the arm to silently signal that she was all right. She would deal with Luthor later. For now, Wesley needed her attention…one last time.

'Eth Alth'eban

---

Jade Nguyen glared at the two guards in their traditional black garb, hands on the hilts of their blades at the Emerald Assassin's approach. It was amusing they thought they could take her on. What irked her was that these "soldiers" in Ras al Ghul's little army of assassins were just cogs and pawns in the game of those with more ambition. People like Jade... and Talia. "The daughter of the Demon is expecting me. I suggest you step aside." The two guards looked at each other for a moment before removing their hands from their blades and moving to flank the doorway.

Jade pushed open the giant mahogany doors to reveal Talia's chambers, a lavish living space designed around a circular study at the center. On the far end of the room was a four post bed with a canopy, and along the walls were various weapons and trophies fastened to stands. The center of the room had a mahogany desk, finely carved with an intricate trim. Sitting at the desk, with various books and sheets of parchment lining it, Talia al Ghul was scratching away in a book. She didn't look up from her throne-like chair, instead motioning silently to one of the two chairs before the desk. Jade silently took her spot, setting a passport on the desk.

After minutes of awkward silence, Talia slammed the book shut. Her brown eyes scanned Jade as she nimbly reached for the document Jade provided. With a quick look over, Talia gave a small smile. "I apologize for sending you on such a simple assignment... but a certain enemy of his paid a lot of money for the best service. You're someone I knew would get the job done, no matter the cost."

Jade gave a small nod. "I appreciate the confidence, my lady. I felt you would appreciate that the death looked like a suicide. The police will find a note as well."

Talia smiled. "I am quite pleased. Now... we will express our darker purpose." Talia got up from the chair and stepped around the desk, leaning against it to get closer to Cheshire. Jade leaned forward in her chair in response, her interest piqued. "My father is considering retiring. This is something only a select few within the League are aware of. Given your resourcefulness, I believe you came to that conclusion as well."

Talia's eye contact was unbreaking, and Jade felt uncomfortable for the first time in years. Talia's voice went from sweet and airy to bitter with a threatening edge. "The skilled members of our League are going to be fighting for supremacy when that time comes. And I know you well enough that you are one of those few who would fight for power. Of course, I know that you would never gather enough support to win on your own... so I'm willing to offer you the next best thing."

A small flicker of recognition flashed in Jade's eyes. She knew where this conversation was going. "So let me guess... you want me to work with you and give you my support so you can take your father's role, while I get to lead the warriors as your right hand?"

"Am I really being that obvious?" Talia gave a small nod, leaning backwards slightly and giving a knowing smile. "You are correct, as always, Jade. With your support, our victory is almost guaranteed."

"And what about those who don't fall in line. What's to stop Nyssa or the others from attempting to split from the League and form their own?"

"We'll handle them in due time. For now, I want you to keep working with the Legion. We need to keep up appearances if we want to have any outside support."

Collab with @MrDidact

THE WATCHTOWER

Vigilante stepped out into the hall, his respects paid. Almost time for the conference. He picked up his pace slightly, his spurs jangling on the metal deck as he strode through the halls. He was surprised by the sound of combat boots falling into step beside him. Vig looked at the newcomer, staring back at him. "Something I can do for you, partner?" Vig asked casually.

The other man was clad in a modern combat suit, ceramic plating from down the neck, steel grey with a red V emblazoning the chest piece. Two machine pistols rode on hip holsters. The man had a scar running down the side of his face, a day's worth of dark stubble, and the eyes of a hardened soldier. The man's mouth quirked up in a smirk that bordered on a sneer, "Just admiring those sixguns. Beautiful pieces. A little old-fashioned though." He tapped his own pistols for emphasis.

Vigilante shrugged. "Well, if'n more than twelve desperadoes come at me all it means is that I'm gonna have to reload." He had a look over the other fella's full-auto pistols. The two men were roughly the same age, but it was clear they came from different eras.

The man held out his hand as they walked through the halls, "Dorian Chase. But you can call me Vindicator." The two had been present at several League functions and meetings before, had heard of each other, but they had never actually spoken. The Vindicator had a reputation for being hard-handed. He was one of Magog's close compatriots. Young Leaguers with the same power as their forebears but not near so many ethical compunctions in how they used it. He spent much of his time fighting the militarized crime syndicates in Gotham.

Vig shook the offered hand. "Glad to know you, Vindicator. I've heard you've done some good work up in Gotham, hit some of the satellite gangs from the same cartels I've been fighting. Maybe we could trade some notes sometime, might be able to help each other out." It was a preemptive olive branch- even though they had only just met Vig was beginning to be rubbed the wrong way. It was more than a difference in style, it was a difference in ethics. But Vig had known a lot of loners that ended up dead- it was just practical to make sure someone had your back, and if even a grudging respect would help that then might as well be civil.

Vindicator chuckled at that, "I heard you got quite the deadeye. Me, I always like to be sure. If I'm putting someone down, they're going down and they're never getting back up." Dorian drew one of his pistols from the holster quick as lightning, flipped it in his hand theatrically and holstered it again, "Maybe we oughta have a friendly competition sometime." The other marksman smiled again, but there was nothing friendly about the expression. Though Vindicator smiled at Vigilante, there was a hard edge to his gaze and a firmness in his grip that belied the superficially friendly greeting, "Heard about what happened in Chihuahua. Loud, but it got results. Nice work in taking down Bloodsport and getting the intel to knock that place out. A shame he had to come back though. Would have been the perfect chance to knock that scumbag off the board. Don't know how you restrained yourself. Especially after seeing all the sick shit those fuckers were up to."

When they shook hands, Vindicator gripped a bit too tightly and a bit too long before finally withdrawing, "Yeah, nasty bastards along the border. But they're just as nasty in Gotham. I'd be happy to share intel though. Anything that could give me a leg up. And I've been told I need to take a vacation. Always wanted to go down south. Ever find your way to Gotham, drop me a line. We'll paint the town red." Vindicator smirked mirthlessly.

The hallway begin to full with other people making their way to the conference room, people of all shapes and sizes clad in all the colors of the rainbow. Some walked, some took advantage of the high ceilings and drifted overhead. "Well, Vindicator, I won't pretend I've got clean hands. But I've never killed a man that didn't need to be dead. Bloodsport has been more valuable singing his heart out in the poke on this here Watchtower for the last few days than he's been in all the years since he was born. Besides," he said with a shrug, "I may be a killer but I'm not a murderer. I'll kill to save a life, sure. But not for revenge or out of anger or just because I feel like it. Start up with that kind of thing and you're going up a muddy slope, my friend, you fall more than you climb."

Chase seemed to relax somewhat when others started to join them in the hallway, but there was still a restrained intensity to his movements and bearing that killed any chance of real calm. Vindicator replied, "You've got a code. I can understand that. I have one too. Hell, some of those criminals got one. But they don't fight with one arm tied behind their back like a lot of us do. That's why they're still around and we're playing clean up. We've got to step up our game. Or we won't have the luxury of debating ethics. As for mud... well I got good traction on these." Vindicator chuckled as he stomped along in his boots.

Vindicator looked as if he was going to say more when familiar faces appeared in the crowd and gestured to Vigilante. A tall young woman with long blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes in a blue star-spangled get up smiled at Vigilante. Next to her was a woman who looked much the same, but with a mature edge to hear appearance and bearing. It could be no other than Jackie Rothstein, the hero known as Skygirl and daughter of Courtney Whitmore and Albert Rothstein, the Atom Smasher. Courtney herself was dressed in civilian clothes, having given up Stargirl and taken up the mantle of STRIPE after giving the Cosmic Rod to Michael Knight, the new Starman.

With them were Green Arrow along with James Travis, the newest Crimson Avenger and son of the first Avenger's successor Jill and his sidekick Wing. Rounding out the group was a handsome golden-haired man in gleaming armor with draconic symbolism. Sir Justin, the Dragonknight, who descended from both Sir Brian Kent the Silent Knight and Ystina the Shining Knight. All of them were veteran members and team leaders in the Justice League and were therefore qualified to attend the meeting. All of them were likewise descendants of members of the Seven Soldiers of Victory and had been known to each other all their lives. Jackie came up to Vigilante and hugged him tightly, "Vig! It's great to see you. Why does it take bad news for us to see each other? C'mon you should sit with us."

Vigilante could tell something about Vindicator was just off. The man was far too tightly wound. Certainly he was under a lot of pressure, they all were. But if a man like Vindicator cracked, then things in Gotham would get ugly. He privately resolved to keep an eye out- not that he needed more work, especially babysitting, but somebody had to do it. Invisible under his bandanna, his mouth split into a grin as Jackie greeted him with a hug. "Jackie! It's been too damn long, sister." They had known each other before ever contemplating a life of heroics, all of the descendants of the Seven Soldiers had kept in close contact even outside of the yearly reunions. He and Jackie had been particularly close- back in their teenage years she had been the first person he came out to when they both had crushes on the same boy. His smile widened as he saw the others- Robert, Justin, James, and of course the oldest of the bunch, Courtney. Hugs and handshakes were traded. "This is wonderful," he said as he took a seat. "Hell, we just need to pick up another one person and we got ourselves a new Seven Soldiers. Wonder if the brass would even let us do that." Jake Leong, the Vigilante, leaned back contentedly. "I think Greg would be happy to see that. Might sound weird, but for some reason I think Wesley Dodd would too."

Vindiactor nodded at his fellow Leaguers, addressing them and greeting them by name cordially if without any real warmth. He nodded at Vigilante one last time and said, "Be seeing you cowboy. Next time, maybe I'll get to see those guns in action." Dorian Chase cocked an imaginary pistol at Vigilante with a smirk and walked off. He made a beeline for Magog and other members of the "New Breed" such as 666, Deadeye, Tokyo Rose, Shiva, Manotaur, and Trix. They were young, brash, headstrong, and deadly and they were fast becoming one of the more influential cliques in the JL's ranks. Especially now with the invasion of Thailand. Magog was already butting heads with Jon Kent and Damian Wayne. If the New Breed had their way, it'd be all-out war against the Legion of Doom and the Shiruta Pact. And anyone else who got in the League's way.

Robert grinned, "Still sporting the old duds I see. Even my dad traded in the Robin Hood getup eventually. Heck, even Justin rocks a space-age exoskeleton with that magic sword of his. You haven't changed a bit Jake." Jackie smiled, "Exactly. And he never should."
Courtney smiled in a motherly expression to Jake and nodded as she took a seat, "I could take it up with the higher-ups. We could always tap Michael Knight. Or Roy Harper if he wasn't busy with the Academy. Or maybe even one of the Queen kids when they get out of training. Or your sister, Robert." Robert smirked, "We could fill out the whole team if we were including my family. Maybe we should ask that guy you were with Jake. Could use something new in the dynamic." He chuckled, amused with himself.

The chatter died down when the Seven entered the room. Jon Kent, Damian Wayne, Lyta Prince, Arthur Orin Curry II, Don Allen, Kai-Ro, M'yri'ah J'onnz. The flagship team, the premier heroes of the generation to succeed Superman and his peers. They had been chosen by their comrades and colleagues when the original Seven stepped down to background roles. But it was undeniable that they lineages had played a decisive role in their selection, potent powers and experience being something of an afterthought.That had caused no small amount of controversy and competition among members of the League. Especially those that favored Dawn Allen or one of the Hawks or Arrows or countless other lineages. But through the years, the new Seven had more than proven themselves as worthy successors.

There were low murmurs when Luthor entered the room and sat with Roy Harper, the second Katana, Offspring, and others. Luthor had a much harder uphill battle in the reputation game. Many of the traditionalists distrusted him. And many of the New Breed thought he was just like the traditionalists. He found company in the League's outsiders and the most open-minded. Eventually the hubbub died down as members like Oracle and Nightwing and those of their ilk took their places. But there was a stunned silence when the original Seven entered. They had all aged to some extent, some much less so than others, but they all still looked hale and healthy. And most of all powerful and formidable. Age and experience had give them even more luster, not less. Why they were here at what had seemed to be a meeting only for active veterans and team leaders was unknown to most.

Superman, officially Kal-El but still known to all as that name took the center stage. He had barely aged a day. His blue eyes were clear, there was only a hint of silver in his night black hair. The biggest difference was that he had traded in the cape for Kryptonian raiment, black to suit the mournful occasion. He took a moment, everyone in the room waiting for him to speak with bated breath. Finally he said, "Thank you all for coming. Some of you I have fought with for decades, since we were young and brash and naive. Some of you I helped train. Some of you trained me. Some of you I saw born. Others I shook hands with when you joined our ranks as heroes in your own right. All of you I know, and normally I would celebrate the occasion to see you all again. But we gather today in dark times. One of our oldest friends has died. And I know there have been many rumors, but three things are true."

Kal-El looked over the room, making eye contact with several, "One, someone murdered Wesley. Two, we don't know who did it. And three, they will face the full weight of the Justice League and they will pay the consequences. Wesley will be laid to rest."

Bruce Wayne, silver haired, spoke up then, "An attack on one of us is an attack on all of us. And we will not rest until that coward is found and taken in. I'm forming an investigative group now and in the meantime, security will be tripled. All members and their dependents are invited to relocate to embassies or Astrapolis if they feel at risk."

Queen Diana said, "And with the invasion of Thailand, it is clear that the Legion of Doom is no longer content to just wage this war in the shadows while still claiming plausible deniability. They take they can get away with their barbarism and cruelty. We will prove them wrong. We will not declare war at this point. But make no mistake. We will strike back. Mexico proved that we need to act. A task force to begin actively countering the Legion's activities is being formed. Those interested in joining will speak to the field commanders."

There was a determined air to the room. The Justice League was shaken by recent events but the words of their Founders steeled their resolve, motivated them to do whatever it would take to see through the storm to come. But at the same time, there seemed to be something else in the air. An unease that many felt but could not explain. There was bad news. Diana said, "What I will say next will not leave this room until the time is right. No government authorities or media organizations are aware of this. You cannot tell those under your command. You cannot tell your families. Until a thorough investigation is carried out, you must all remain silent. Understood?"

They all nodded in affirmation. Kal-El looked at Bruce. Bruce, one of the toughest and hardiest in the League, seemed his usual self on first glance. But the keenly observant and those who knew him could recognize the tightness in his fists, the hard edge in his eyes. He was troubled. And it was with hesitation that he came forward and said, "It is too soon to draw definitive conclusions. But it appears that Flamebird has been compromised by Deathstroke and the Legion of Doom." Albert Luthor cast his eyes down, Nightstar fought to hold back tears. Those who knew did their best to avert their eyes from those who did not know, which was the majority of the room. The reactions ran the gamut from the disbelieving to the shocked and uncomprehending. Some seemed as if they had been physically punched in the gut, so strong was their surprise.

Bruce stared ahead, his eyes dry but his voice heavy, "My grandson.... James is a murderer. And we have to stop him."

Vig sat stunned, even as Robert poked his arm and whispered something- the words were lost on him. Flamebird had turned. James Grayson himself. One of the brightest stars in the League's firmament. They had only ever met briefly, in passing, but the stories about the man were rapidly becoming legend. And somehow the Legion had gotten to him, turned his prodigious skill and talent against his parents, his family, his entire code of ethics. Not a dream, not a hoax, not an imaginary story. This was real and yet so unbelievable, this was like Will Kane throwing his tin star on the ground and teaming up with Frank Miller.

This was so much to absorb, too much. Where moments before he had felt the warm glow of camaraderie, Vigilante felt fear gnawing at his stomach. This Cold War was rapidly getting hot.