This is the story of how Bruce Wayne's parents lived. All because of a time-traveling Vulcan.
Clark Kent, as part of a time-traveling team called SG-1, had to help reverse that situation.
That did not make him very happy.
This was before Clark became Patient X.
As he slept in Belle Reve Sanitarium, Patient X--Clark-- relived the experiences that had brought him to that time and place.
As he did, he was unaware that people were on their way to retrieve him.
Or that the enemy was out to destroy him.
But as Clark slept, it was actually happening: the enemy was arranging to eliminate Clark.
A Terminator was on its way to Belle Reve armed with both a red sun laser and a rifle filled with green kryptonite bullets.
Clark was in a coma.
Could he come out of it in time?
A SMALLVILLE/STARGATE/STAR TREK ADVENTURE
HOW TO SAVE BRUCE WAYNE'S PARENTS (PART 1)
Clark Kent had no idea where he was.
For that matter, he had no idea who he was.
All he knew was some eerie voice in his head was telling him to lift a car over his head, and he was doing it, no sweat.
Whoa, he thought. Check this out. Look at me. I'm really strong. YEAH!
When he dropped the car, the great crash reverberated throughout the empty alley. Feeling slightly woozy, Clark had a hazy memory. Something about throwing a tractor through the air. It seemed like it happened very recently.
Who was he?
As he puzzled over this, an image popped into his mind, an image of an older blond-haired man grinning and nodding with approval as Clark slowly lifted a tractor off the ground and over his head.
Dad, he thought
Clark then saw another image: this one involved setting a scarecrow on fire. With his burning eyes.
Whoa, he thought. What am I? Some kind of fire-starter?
Dazed and groggy, Clark staggered through the streets of the city. His mind filled with strange visions: men in sunglasses, caps, black vests, and camouflage pants. And a blond woman. Sam. Sam Carter. She had really big luminous eyes,
The eyes made him think of big brown eyes.
Who was ...Lana?
Someone important, he felt. As he pictured the long raven hair and large eyes, he felt a wave of good feeling.
Then a blonde (different from Sam Carter) was saying, “Guys do find me attractive even if I don't have raven hair and the initials 'L.L.'”
Chloe, Clark thought. Right? Chloe? And she was some kind of brainiac, like the other blonde. Sam. Sam Carter.
For a moment, he saw a gold ring with the center jewel glowing red. Then he was with the camouflage people. There was a glowing red rock, a hideous laugh, and a great flash of white light with a loud “boom.” Reacting, Clark bent over, clutching his ears. Then cautiously he slowly looked around.
Here he was. Wherever here was.
One thing was clear. He had these powers and he was going to use them.
It was then that men in fedoras, armed with machine guns, ran out of a bank and into a black Bonnie-and-Clyde car.
When Clark smiled, it was like Jack Nicholson had taken over his face. Or maybe even the Grinch.
While lifting the car and running, Clark emptied it of its passengers.
As the men sat on the street, dazed, money bags and hats lying all around, Clark kicked the machine guns away.
“WHOO!” he shouted as he jumped up and down. With a big broad smile and hands on his hips, he nodded as he surveyed his handiwork.
Wait, he thought. Wasn't there a comic book cover of “Warrior Angel” where he emptied a car full of crooks while running?
“Pfft,” Clark said. Comic books. How lame was that?
“Who's your daddy?” he shouted then took off running.
Whoa! Clark thought. I can run really fast. Look at me!
In seconds, he was in another part of the city. For all he knew, he was miles from the bank robbers.
Awesome, he thought. He retreated into an empty alley to celebrate.
“YEAH!” he shouted, jumping up with a fist raised high, almost as if flying. “WHOO! How about that? HUH?!” He did a little quarterback dance before an imaginary audience. “Put some plastic on the furniture! 'Cause your head...may explode....FROM AWESOMENESS!”
As Clark shouted the words, he stood with fists clenched, head held high, back slightly arched.
Resuming his Grinch/Nicholson look, Clark surveyed a crowd only he could see.
Wait. He'd shouted that before. In a place called the Wild Coyote. With Lana (wave of good feeling). Then incredible pounding pain swept over him, and he saw his arms staring to turn green.
Clark fell to his knees, gasping and groaning.
What was happening to him?
Fortunately, in the next few seconds, it all stopped. He sat down in the alley, curled up his legs, and rested his head on his knees.
As he did, a peaceful vision filled his mind. Or was it a memory? A dream maybe.
Whatever it was, it felt very real. It was like he was transported somewhere else. He felt the warmth of a crackling fire. Even more important, he felt the warmth of new friends.
Clark sat by the campfire with the other members of SG-1. He wasn't sure what planet this was but it didn't matter. Soon enough they would be moving on. Either to another world, another time, or back to Home Base.
It happened once in a while that their home-away-from-home was attacked. By a Darkseid-possessed Lionel Luthor, by a super-soldier, by a meteor freak combining the powers of all the meteor freaks, by a Bizarro Phantom, or by your run-of-the-mill Terminator.
When that happened, they usually cleared out temporarily while the Guardian upgraded security.
Soon enough they would move on.
Being constantly on the go like this reminded Clark of a federal agent named Jack Bauer who seemed to experience action non-stop 24 hours a day. Did the guy ever sleep?
“So, Daniel,” Clark said as the fire crackled and popped. Daniel Jackson looked up in a half-asleep way. “I remember when I first met you. I said to myself: What kind of archaeologist carries a gun?”
“I do,” Daniel said, holding up one finger.
“Daniel is unusual,” Colonel Jack O'Neill said as he ate oatmeal as a light late night snack. “He can say 'brains' and 'guts' in thirteen different languages.” O'Neill made a face. “Or is it seventeen? Well, a bunch of different languages anyway.”
“And now Kryptonian and Vulcan as well,” Daniel said in the bored casual way he said things. “Thanks to the Download.”
“You could probably read the symbols in the Kawache caves,” Clark said.
“Probably,” Daniel said with a slight nod and half-open eyes.
“What about you, Clark?” Sam Beckett asked. “What kind of places have you been? What kind of people have you met?”
Clark stifled a yawn. “Until now I've hardly been outside Smallville.”
“Smallville,” O'Neill said. “I mean, come on. What kind of name is that? Really. I mean---” As he made a face, O”Neill waved his hand. “Smallville,”
Samantha Carter spoke up with what passed for giddy enthusiasm in the scientist. “Sir, the town may be one of the greatest scientific finds ever. Right up there with Area Fifty-One and Eureka. I mean, we're talking about a town filled with people with powers. All because of the meteor rocks.”
“Still,” O”Neill said with a frown. “Smallville.”
“My powers come from the yellow sun,” Clark said. “Just learned that recently. Back in my real life.”
“The yellow sun,” O”Neill said. “That's a problem. What happens if we visit a planet with no yellow sun? Or no sun at all?”
“Impossible, sir. If there is no sun, there is no life.”
“Not when we're dealing with altered realities,” Daniel said. “And what happens if we run into more solar flares?” Daniel raised his eyebrows in a “huh?” look.
“Indeed,” Teal'c said. His serious stoic look contrasted with Daniel's “huh?” face.
“Then I guess Clark's powers go haywire and we all end up back in 1969,” O”Neill said. He referred to an incident in which solar flare activity turned the Stargate into a temporary time machine.
“That would be most unfortunate,” Teal'c said.
The mighty Jaffa warrior rested his bald head and large frame against a portable replicator. O'Neill's late night oatmeal, along with all their rations, came from the device.
“But tell us more of your exploits, Clark Kent.” Though massively large, Teal'c made his statement a gentle request.
“This is a campfire, after all,” O'Neill said, eyebrows up. “Maybe a ghost story?”
Clark grinned. “I've got one or two of those” He suddenly frowned.
“Clark, what is it?” Carter asked.
Clark groaned slightly. “Getting a vision from an altered timeline. There's some guy. Billionaire's son. I saved him from a car accident.”
“Ah,” O”Neill said. “Lex Luthor.”
Clark shook his head. “No, this is someone else. A friend of Lex. We were all at a circus together. Charity benefit for an orphanage.”
Clark briefly pictured it in his mind. The sign that said “WORLD'S FINEST CIRCUS.” He even saw the names on the police report: Dick Grayson and Jimmy Olsen.
“These two kids get up on a trapeze. And this guy, Lex's friend, he climbs up there with them. He was so drunk he caused the two kids to fall.”
“Let me guess,” Carter said. “You saved them.”
“Carter, let him tell it,” O'Neill said.
Clark nodded. “Yeah, I saved them. But afterwards I asked Lex what was wrong with the guy, what his problem was. Lex said the guy's parents had almost been robbed once, and since then the guy was never the same.”
“What's the guy's name?” O'Neill asked.
“Bruce Wayne,” Clark said then he shook his head. “I don't think that guy will ever amount to anything.”
“You'd be surprised,” Daniel said.
“On some of the worlds the Waynes are nothing,” Beckett said.
“Just like on some worlds the Luthors are nothing,” O'Neill said. Carter gave him a puzzled look. “What?” O'Neill said. “I know stuff.”
Clark gazed sadly into the fire. “I don't think Bruce Wayne will ever change.”
“We cannot be certain what will transpire,” Teal'c said.
Daniel nodded. “If there's one thing we know, it's the future is always in motion.”
“Indeed,” Teal'c said.
Yawns from the group indicated some were ready to go to sleep.
As he rolled over to sleep, Clark thought of his friends back home. Once he was asleep, he had a dream.
The dream was actually a memory. It was the day Chloe and Pete had been infected with alien parasites while Clark was on red kryptonite. They were walking around Smallville saying some really strange things.
“Maybe someday Lex and Lana will get married and I'll be the maid of honor,” Chloe Sullivan said in a sing-song voice.
“More likely you'll head up some secret government squad and fire off two guns at once. In a casino!” Pete Ross laughed.
“Oh, yeah, right,” Chloe said, making a face. “And I'll become a cheerleader and maybe even prom queen.”
“I'll learn to fly,” Clark said, extending his arms as if he were an airplane. “And I'll wear a cape. Like Mighty Mouse! Even though he's a cartoon and I'm a real guy.”
“I'll get long stretchy arms,” Pete with a broad smile.
“And I'll put on a gold helmet and see into the future,” Chloe said in a mock-mysterious voice.
“Ooo!” Pete “ooo”-ed. “That's so 'weird and unexplained.'”
When Clark woke up, he realized that while he and his friends were in an altered state, the Guardian had revealed the future to them. Or at least one possible future.
“Okay, listen up,” O”Neill said. “The Guardian says it's safe to return to Home Base.” He stopped, listened. “Wait. I'm getting another message. We've got a time rescue mission. Daniel, that's your cue.”
Reciting from the Background, Daniel explained the basic situation to them as the yawning team members gathered their backpacks.
“Okay,” O'Neill said when Daniel finished. “Our next stop: the thirty-first century.”
With his head pounding, Clark sat on the sidewalk.
What city was this? Metropolis? Gotham City? Edge City? New York?
If it had men in fedoras with machine guns, Clark sensed he was outside his own time.
“Hey, Rodent, how's it goin'?” someone called.
Clark blinked his tired eyes and watched as a little fellow with a big nose waved to two men on the other side of the alley. All three men were dressed in ragged coats and hats.
“Hey, Carl and Lenny,” the one called Rodent said.
Rodent passed by Clark without a word or a look..
Clark got up and began wandering the city.
As he did, he glimpsed a sign that said BOXING PRADO BAILEY MASON.
I could take on all those guys, Clark thought.
A brunette woman, with her hair up in a bun, approached. Clark used his X-ray vision to look at her skeleton.
“Hey, good news,” Clark said. “Your skeleton isn't green.” As the woman frowned, Clark lifted his arms.high. “I'm awesome,” he said.
The woman made a face. “Young man, if you're on the booze or something else that makes you a bad risk, get out. Get out of this city. Go to a farm where you can get some fresh air.”
“Yeah?” Clark said. “You like the farm boy type?”
Shaking her head, the woman sighed deeply as she walked away.
“Whatever,” Clark said. He watched as she walked away.
Rodent approached and smiled. “She's not bad-looking, is she?”
“She's no Lana,” Clark said.
“Who?” Rodent asked.
“You wouldn't know her.” As a pounding headache hit him, Clark retreated into the nearest alley.
In that alley, Clark sat down, placed his head on his knees and closed his eyes. As he did, memories came rushing back to him. There was that blond girl, Chloe. And someone else. A guy. Pete. Yeah. Pete Ross. And something to do with alien parasites.
For a brief moment, he saw a campfire.
But then something else. He remembered piling one pickup truck on top of another.
Who was Whitney? Whitney Fordman?
“Clark,” someone said. It was that blonde, Chloe. And then he saw (wave of good feeling) Lana. “Clark,” she said softly and lightly.
His name was Clark.
At least he knew that much. “Hey, Clark,” he greeted himself with a slight lilt in his voice.
At least he knew his name. At least he knew that. Of course there was also that speed-and-strength thing, too.
He saw Lana in a gown and that guy Whitney in a suit. They were dancing in the dark with other couples. In this memory, Clark was watching them. But why was he all wet?
Some weird scrawny guy was saying, “I have a gift and a purpose and a destiny.”
“So do I,” Clark said as he stood bolt upright there in the alley.
But as throbbing pain returned to his head, Clark sat down again.
Exhausted, Clark prepared to go back to sleep, head on his knees. As he did, he wondered: Who was he? Where did he come from?
Why was he the way he was?
And what did it have to do with alien parasites?
Or with a Vulcan named Fred?
It happened once that Commander Data, gold-skinned android officer aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise, literally lost his head.
While his head was buried on Earth for hundreds of years, he told himself stories.
If he told himself this story, it might go something like this:
Once there was a Vulcan. Let's call him Fred. (As opposed to Spot, which is only a good name for a cat.) Fred worked as a lab assistant at the Vulcan Children's Science Museum.
One exhibit was a rift where groups of children, controlled by a guide, could pass through and visit the city of Kandor. But they had to be careful not to touch anything or say anything. Which was pretty much what a childhood on Vulcan was like all the time.
One night someone left the key in the control panel. Unknown to the Vulcan scientists, they had been influenced by powerful evil forces so they accidentally amped up the power and made the rift unstable. It could now open up to any place at any time.
The forces at work had arranged for the rift to open at a time and place where any interference would create huge problems.
These powerful evil forces had been at work for some time, which was one reason Vulcan parents foolishly sent their children through a rift, an extraordinarily dangerous activity, as any outsider could have told them. In fact, the Kryptonians on the other side of the rift tried to warn them.
While cleaning the lab and putting items away, Fred felt someone or something push him. Logic told him no one was there. Another mysterious push followed, and Fred hit the switch on the floor.
The rift opened, and because of the boost in power, Fred was pulled in to it and hurled through the air on the other side.
He experienced a great crash which changed history.
Ironically, Earth's history.
Clark didn't know it but once some Kryptonian scientists, infected by alien parasites, opened a rift into another world. That world was Vulcan. After the Vulcans removed the parasites from their Kryptonian visitors, there followed a rich period of cultural exchange and intermarriage.
Eventually, though, the Vulcans found their Kryptonian neighbors to be too emotional, and all relations were cut off. But the Vulcan influence on the Kryptonians remained, and they became more logical, scientific, and reserved. It's one reason Clark keeps his emotions inside so much: the Vulcan influence on his people.
Before the Kryptonians and Vulcans cut off all contact, however, something very unfortunate happened. Something that had a big impact on a lot of people.
It involved the Vulcan we call Fred.
“Uff,” said Fred or something similar as he collided with another body. A humanoid body, as it turned out. A gun fell to the ground with a clatter.
Leaning over the unconscious man, a dazed and dizzy Fred looked around. He caught a glint of the silver gun under the moonlight, even with the wind knocked out of him. A Vulcan can be sturdy and observant that way.
While catching his breath and steadying his balance, Fred stood up and saw he was in a dark alley. An empty alley. To his right he saw white lights framing a brightly lit square sign, though he did not recognize the language on the sign. It certainly wasn't Vulcan or Kryptonian.
To his left he saw a man, a woman, and a little boy.
“Thank you,” the man said.
“I think you saved our lives,” the woman said as she struggled to catch her breath.
“Can we go now?” The boy sounded bored and impatient but maybe also a little scared. “I want to get out of here.” He looked around nervously as he tugged on his father's pants.
Fred heard the sounds but did not understand the words. This, he sensed, was not Krypton.
No, he was definitely somewhere else.
Before Fred could say anything, a new rift appeared and pulled him in.
Only he wasn't back on Vulcan.
He was not back in his science lab.
Instead, he was in the middle of chaos.
“Get down!” someone shouted.
A man with a goatee pulled him under a control panel, even as laser blasts filled the air above them both. With the goatee man holding him in place with one arm, Fred huddled behind the panel, buttons and levers above him, a red-haired youth and blond girl in red next to him.
The girl, he realized, was communicating with him telepathically.
I”m Imra, she said. This is Rokk and Garth.
Fred glimpsed men in shiny metal chest armor running into the room and forming small firing squads.
Fred watched as Rokk, the goatee guy, pointed his hands at the armored figures and they flew into walls, weapons clattering to the floor. The red-haired Garth fired lightning bolts out of his hands, causing the guards to drop to the floor, convulsing and twitching.
When Rokk turned to face him in the silence, Fred saw the eye patch and red jagged scars.
“Guy named Sam Beckett told us to watch out for you,” Rokk said in a heavy dispirited voice.
“Earth's long troubled history?” Garth grunted. “Your fault.” His face bore large red bruises. One eye was swollen.
“And Garth flunked history,” Rokk said.
“Although I thought that one Asian Empress from the Enterprise was hot.” As Garth grinned, Rokk frowned. Then they both continued using their powers on the guards.
Thanks to the mental link with Imra, Fred understood the words.
“By protecting you, we can change history,” Imra said aloud in a weak, weary voice. Her eyes were only half-open. She looked tired and worn, her face drawn and pale. A thin red line ran from her mouth to her left ear.
As she continued to communicate telepathically, Fred found it was now more like a mind-meld in which he shared parts of her memory and her history.
From this, Fred realized he was in a place called the Time Institute, on a planet called Earth, in the 31st century. Rokk, Imra, and Garth were leaders of a group of super-powered freedom fighters called “Legion.”
Rokk had magnetic powers and was distantly related to someone called “Magneto” who, along with a “Charles Xavier,” had once led a mutant uprising against “Emperor Alexander.”
For centuries, Earth had been ruled over by ruthless emperors, including a very nasty one named Tiberius.
And he, Fred, was the cause, according to some entity called the Guardian of Forever which had contacted Imra's mind.
Using his Vulcan logic, Fred realized it was because he crashed into the man with the gun. That event apparently set off a wave in time, one that had enormous consequences.
Could it be changed back?
Clark woke with a start there in the alley. He had just had the weirdest nightmare. In the nightmare, all kinds of laser fire was bouncing off his chest. As he pictured it, he involuntarily reeled from each blast. Even though, in his mind, the laser blasts were not actually wounding him or hurting him, he still could not help reacting. It was more psychological than physical.
Very human, he thought in his tired, stressed-out state. Yes, very human.
Clark slowly breathed in, reliving the sensation of acrid smoke hanging in the air. He responded with a slight cough.
An image filled his mind: guys in armor pointing weapons at him. Clark remembered. The Imperial Guard, they were called.
“Me to the rescue,” a tired Clark mumbled. He realized it was odd for him to be tired like this. “I'm invincible,” he insisted weakly.
His thoughts returned to the guy with the pointed ears. The Vulcan named “Fred.”
Because of his mental link to Imra, Fred was able to see the room without lifting his head above the control panel. The room was large and cavernous, and at its center was a large vertical ring. The ring was etched with symbols that, to Fred, appeared almost Kryptonian. The center of the ring was filled with what looked like small sparkling waves.
Some people stepped out of the waves. The people in caps, sunglasses, and camouflage pants were all armed with weapons. There was also a man in white and another man in black. All of them had weapons.
They hardly needed them.
A tall dark-haired man stood at the center of the group. He wore a black T-shirt with a large red “S” spray-painted on. (Thanks to the link, Fred knew about spray paint.) The “S” was encased in a shield the shape of a medium-sized Kryptonian spaceship.
The men in armor directed their laser fire at the tall man but it all bounced off his chest. He moved with a ruthless determination and tenacity that reminded Fred of a robot that once invaded Vulcan, something called a “Terminator.”
Swiftly moving forward, the tall dark-haired man threw the armored men into walls.
There was silence again. Only acrid smoke hung in the air, a light fog of it. The peace was only temporary. More Imperial Guards stormed into the room. They formed small squads and began firing.
The people in camouflage sprayed bullets. It was not enough to penetrate the armor of the Imperials Guards, of course, but it literally knocked them off their feet.
A man with white sideburns and sunglasses pointed to Fred. “You. With us. Now.”
Fred hesitated. He had a great deal of stoic Vulcan calm in the situation but he still did not want to get shot.
The tall dark-haired man towered over him. He tilted his head toward the ring, gesturing for Fred to go. As he gestured, laser fire bounced off his back, filling the immediate area with smoke.
In a flurry of laser fire, Fred moved toward the ring, the tall man all the while shielding him.
He stepped into the waves, and he was somewhere else again.
“Welcome to Home Base, everybody,” O'Neill said as they all stepped through the Stargate. Once the gate closed, laser fire stopped zipping around the room.
As she slipped off her weapon sling and backpack, Carter smiled. “You know, Clark, you could have just used your super-speed and knocked them all out.”
“I know,” Clark said as they all put down their backpacks. “But sometimes it's best to instill fear in the enemy.”
“That sounds like something out of Clausewitz, 'On War,'” Daniel noted.
“Yep,” Clark said. “A friend of mine was big on ancient warfare.” He thought it was too bad he didn't have some scary-looking gold breastplate to wear with a snake in the shape of an “S.”
O'Neill turned to their guest, who was trembling from the cold. “That happens when you pass through the Stargate for the first time,” he said. “You'll get over it.”
“I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill.” He gestured to the others in the room. “This is my team. Daniel Jackson, Samantha Carter, and Teal'c. Just Teal'c.” After he hung his weapon at his side, O'Neill gestured with his thumb. “Also Doctor Sam Beckett, who actually leaped into one of the Legion before we got there. And Clark Kent, who can do some pretty amazing things. As you've seen.”
With a slight lift of his eyebrows and his chin, O'Neill looked at their most recent alien visitor. “And you are...?” The Vulcan started to speak but O'Neill shook his head. “Never mind. I'll just call you Fred.” With a tilt of his head, O'Neill nodded toward Daniel. “Take it away, Daniel.”
Daniel and Fred chatted in Vulcan while the others put their backpacks against the wall.
“How we doing with the dial-in device?” O'Neill asked.
“I'm having trouble with the new manual override,” Carter said, pushing a series of buttons. “I think I can compensate by generating a reverse polarity feedback loop.”
“Good,” O'Neill said. Pausing, he glanced at Teal'c. “That's good, right?” Teal'c answered only with a slight bow and serene grin. “Be standing by, Teal'c.”
“I will be in readiness, O'Neill,”
“I'm having Ziggy interface with it,” Beckett said.
“Ah, yes, Ziggy,” O'Neill said. “Your little misshaped Rubik's-cube-looking thingy you take everywhere to know everything.” O'Neill gestured playing a video game. “With the flashing lights and everything.” O'Neill sighed heavily. “Okay, I'm officially bored.”
Daniel turned back to O'Neill. “I've been talking with him. But he doesn't like to talk much.”
O'Neill made a face. “Is he some kind of Vulcan monk?”
“Not exactly. He says he's trying to eliminate all outside distractions to open himself up to the good at work in the universe.”
“Huh,” O'Neill said.
“And he says some invisible being pushed him, causing him to activate the rift. That's how he ended up in Earth's past.”
O'Neill nodded. “Invisible being, right. We'll have to watch out then.” He looked at the Vulcan. “You know that old saying, 'I couldn't help myself?' Well, you, Fred, are about to do just that. You're going to help yourself.”
As Fred tilted his head, Daniel spoke in Vulcan. When he finished, he turned back to O'Neill.
“Anyway, his real name's Surnak, not Fred. And I explained to him how our Stargate's been linked to various portals and rifts so we can go wherever we need to. And the Guardian sends us to the right point in time.”
“Daniel?” O'Neill said. “Too much information.”
“Yeah, Daniel,” Clark teased.
Daniel winced in a bookish manner. “Guys, he may be an alien but he still deserves to know.”
“Actually the less he knows the better. You know what? It doesn't matter. Uh!” O'Neill groaned. “Time travel. It's enough to drive me nuts. Okay. You know what? I'll try explaining. You translate.”
Turning to Fred, O'Neill spoke as if talking to a youngster who knew only Latin and a hard-of-hearing child at that.
“Don't worry, Fred.”
“Surnak,” Daniel said.
“We're going to solve your little problem. Our problem. The Stargate and a rift will get us to Vulcan. The Guardian will send us to the right point in time. Timeline fixed. Done! No more big bad dictators on Earth.”
“Just the usual everyday ones,” Daniel said drily. He chatted with Fred/Surnak in Vulcan, leaving out O'Neill's attitude.
“A universal translator would help,” Carter said.
“We should get one,” Clark said.
O'Neill studied their guest. “So what's with the pointed ears?”
“He's Vulcan, sir,” Carter said.
“Ah,” O'Neill said.
Clark crossed his arms. “We better do this right or Earth won't be a happy place to live. I don't know about you guys but I don't want my parents living under dictators.”
“You have spoken of your parents many times, Clark Kent,” Teal'c said, hands behind his back. “They sound like fine people. And I share your wish they not be enslaved. My own people have been enslaved by false gods.”
“I know,” Clark said with a gentle nod.
“I do not wish to see the people of Earth, the Tauri, enslaved by tyrants of any kind. Your adopted planet has enough woes already.”
“What do you mean?” Clark asked.
“Teal'c saw some of our Earth television once,” O'Neill explained. “Wanted to take his staff weapon outside the base. General Hammond nixed that idea.”
“Your planet appeared most violent, O'Neill.”
“It could get a lot worse,” Clark said. “If we don't succeed.”
Beckett gave Carter a thumbs up.
“Sir?” Carter said. “We're ready.”
BELLE REVE SANITARIUM IN THE ALTERED TIMELINE
October 7, 1947
A silver craft, shaped like a cigar, landed in the parking lot of Belle Reve Sanitarium.
A ramp opened, and two men in black suits stepped out.
From an open window, a radio played lively upbeat music with a hint of action and suspense.
In a field some distance from Belle Reve and its barbed wire fence, a radio played at a farm house. The music was filled with intense pounding drums.
In that field, a portal opened, crackling with electricity as it briefly expanded then closed.
It left behind a silver figure.
The silver robot knelt on the ground. As it slowly rose, the Terminator surveyed its surroundings with glowing red eyes.
It began walking rapidly in the direction of Belle Reve.
It was after its prey.
“HOW TO SAVE BRUCE WAYNE'S PARENTS (PART 2)”