June, 1942: Atlantic Ocean

The impact had been worse than she thought. She had seen her guards and advisor die in the electrical fire as the water burst through. After watching much worse happen to her people, it was dismissable. All that mattered was getting to the surface.

Light was shining from above and it almost blinded her as she swam up. Like flying, only with more resistance. If she had been able to take a good breath before escaping her lungs wouldn't have been burning. That breath might have cost her her life, she reminded herself. She swam faster.

The perfect mirror of the surface turned into a lighter blue sky as she burst forth and into the air. A long, deep breath, then coughing. Her body ached. Hovering mid-air, she looked down. The waves were still foaming where they had crashed. She said a silent prayer for the others.

So. This was Earth. Wasn't there supposed to be land? She flew, despite her exhaustion, and for a while it looked like there wasn't. Aquaworlds weren't unheard of. Then she saw it: The spires of metal and glass. The lights, a million candles in what was becoming night.

Civilization. Salvation. And the new home to the last surviving member of the Ch'Tunn race: Queen Aryana. This was the final hiding place. If the Jernites found her here.....She prayed they wouldn't find her here and glided into the city on the moist sea breeze.

People don't realize, it was okay to be a little...Not rascist. We were less trusting then. And it was more than okay: It was the norm. Remember that the U.S. government itself put our Nip...Our Asian citizens in detainment camps. You couldn't tell who might be a sympathizer. Or an agent. Or worse.

When I first met the Red Raven I got a bad feeling about him. Out of all of us...And that's including Jack Frost; we knew nothing about him, but he was just such a good guy...Raven always seemed just wrong. He didn't fit in. And when someone didn't fit in, people got suspicious. That was before he told us his story.

The Raven was just a kid when he and his folks were flying over from Europe to the States. They saw a land of opportunity...He told me that he had heard about America all through his childhood. It was like a fairyland, a place where you could start a new, better life. I hadn't heard anyone talk about the U.S. like that since...I don't know when.

A lightning bolt shattered the dream. The plane crashed on the Sky-Isle, and Raven was the only survivor. The Birdmen, the people of that place, raised him in their little society. And during all that he still dreamt of America. Then, never even having lived here, he fought for our country.

That was a true American to me. That was a hero. Hearing that story had changed my mind. I think it made us all a little softer. Maybe too soft.

July, 1942: New York

The month had been long. It felt like one extended study, something Aryana had some experience in. She had to understand her own people to rule them, when she had a people to rule. But this wasn't conducted from her throne, or even from visiting with them on a road to power.

This was a month of sticking to the filthy alleys, the ones that everyone tried to ignore, just as they did the people that lived there. One of her new friends told her they were called "bums." She knew them as beggars. Either one...For a queen, it was demeaning, but necessary.

What she had gathered on her own: There was a war. America had entered it not long before, after a great tragedy. Some citizens were being kept in confinement because of their ancestry. Aryana could feel it in each person she met: They were tense. Each feared that the man they were passing, or that plane above, wasn't really one of them.

Food and fuel were rationed out to the people, not as needed, but as they were available. Something called a movie, "Miss Minevere", was being spoken of highly. And she saw young women with even younger men...Usually at night. In fact, she read of women working in large numbers, making up for the soldiers in battle. This made her proud.

But the tenseness, the fear...That was what she learned the most.

Her friends, particularly an older bum named Sam, were helpful. Aryana did what she could to collect information from the media, but she found them much more informative. When she brought them food, from a day of learning that a beautiful beggar was much more worthy than an aging one, they wood talk. When she brought them drink, they would talk more. On one of the latter days she asked them what the most important things in the country were.

"Acting American, speaking American, and being American," Sam had told her between sips off his bottle. The others agreed. It sounded right, but didn't give her much.

"How do I do that? I'm not American." To them, she was a Canadian immigrant who crossed the northern border to escape her poverty at home, so the question wasn't unlikely.

Sam took another swig. "Well, you've got the language down fine." An intellect twice above their level had helped with that much. "And you could pass for American easily, looks-wise. But actin' American..." He rubbed his white, weed-like beard. "That ain't something you can fake."

Aryana became worried, more so when the group heartily agreed again. Apparently Sam could tell. He leaned forward, tipping his bottle. "But don't you worry," He said as he smiled. "You spend enough time in this country and it'll getcha'. It's like a disease: Patriotism. Americanism. Whatever you call it, lotsa' people catch it, but only the smart ones understand it. And you're the smartest person I know."

"I'd say the same about you," Aryana beamed back at him. He chuckled, drank, and leaned back on his box. She figured he was done for the night again and was prepared to get some rest when he opened his eyes like he'd been bitten and sat forward.

"Wait! I've got it."

Aryana remembered how Sam was last time she brought them drinks. She hoped this would be more constructive. "What is it?"

"Strong, smart girl like you, looking to act American...And them funny Canadian clothes of yours..." Aryana laughed inside. Yes...Canadian clothes. "I tell you, what's popular right now is heroes. And I don't mean soldiers, bless their hearts: I mean the super-people."

The newspapers had taught her about these "super-people". They weren't unlike how the guardsmen of her own world once were. Sam kept talking, Aryana listening.

"Seems to me like, the stuff you can do, the American thing to do'd be to become one'a them! The country could always use another hero. Hell, the world."

Headlines came to mind. Black-and-white pictures of flaming men, ones draped in stars and stripes. The special soldiers. Aryana's stomach fluttered.

"And you believe...That I could be one of them?" Sam knocked back the rest of his bottle and blinked a few times. She really was a beauty, the kind he hadn't seen often in his forty-some odd years. Long, straight golden hair. Skin just pale enough. High cheekbones, and...Sam, you dirty old man. "And" would do.

"Girl, with a smile like that, I think you could be president." The laughter was outward this time, and they all shared it. It turned into groaning, yawning, and finally sleep. Except for Aryana.

She felt the tingle of excitement all night...And for the first time since she arrived, she forgot about the horrors she'd seen. She let the memories of Jernites leave her mind. Hopes of a new life took their place. Aryana finally slept so the next day would come. As it was, it couldn't get there quickly enough.

We didn't know it at the time, but we were the celebrities. The ones they got to see, to interview and photograph away from the warzones. Sure, the Invaders were heroes...But we were right there.

There weren't that many of us working stateside. Not in the public. I could name a few for you that didn't make it into the papers or the radio. The ones that worked undergound...Even I can't tell about those.

So, being the big-time heroes that we were, we considered pretty much any and all business ours. From street crime to robots gone berzerk, we handled it, and we did it with a smile. It was fun by then. We weren't scared anymore. Weren't cautious.

And you can't laugh about a robot gone berzerk until you've faced down one that's 50 feet tall. That was our case in late July. It was already being called Humungor by the time we heard about it on the radio. And yes, bad naming was apparently an epidemic in the '40's.

On the way we figured it was probably a little present left over from the Future Man. It was rampaging through town nearer to the docks than us. We expected a quick fight, clean up. No more. We got a surprise.

She had looks. I won't take that away from her. And she was strong, and pretty damn good at what she did. The Legion arrived on the scene and this girl was pounding the hell out of the thing. We froze and watched. This we weren't used to.

Finally she noticed us. She looked over, still zooming around Humungor and hitting where she could. It wasn't beaten, but it was definitely taking punishment. A few more and then she dodged the thing and hovered there as she looked over at us.

"Would you mind helping?" She asked.

Late July, 1942: Eastern New York

"Would we mind helping?" The Whizzer echoed. His arms were crossed, looking up at the monstrosity, faceless and of a metal he hadn't seen before, and the beauty fighting it. "We're the Liberty Legion." The girl was taken with the sight, the seven heroes studying her. She didn't hear the massive arm coming her way.

She cried out as her body was batted to the ground ruthlessly and was surprised when a pair of cold, wet, but nonetheless strong arms caught her. Looking up, she saw a mischievious grin made of ice. "I...Was distracted. Thank you."

"For the beautiful lady? Anything," Jack Frost said and took his time releasing her. "And by the way: Who are you?" She took to the air, thinking.

"...Aryana. Just Aryana, for now. I've been fighting this...Thing, and I've come to the conclusion that it is completely mindless."

"Then maybe you can help us out," The Patriot called from below. Besides the Thin Man, the others were already busy with their battle at hand. The woman smiled down at him and lowered herself. "We're a few miles from the docks here," He told her. "If we can get it over that direction, I'm sure we can use the water to our advantage."

"That is...What I was planning," Aryana said.

"Great. If you can give me a lift, I'll tell the others." She swooped gently and picked him off the ground. They both felt something as they rose again. Aryana hadn't been this close to someone before. Not a man.

"You're their leader?" She asked him, nearing the battle, which the Patriot kept his eyes on.

"We lead ourselves." He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Whizzer! Diamond! We need to move this thing towards the docks!" Blue Diamond landed one more punch and gave the Patriot a quick salute and nod then backed away. Whizzer ran circles around Humungor's feet and gained its attention before heading off. Hesitating at first, the robot began to lumber afterwards.

Those remaining gathered where Aryana lowered with the Patriot. "I think we all know where this is going," He told them. "Make sure the area's clear and knock it into the water."

"I'll go on ahead," Aryana said, offering her passenger to the Red Raven. She lifted into the air again. "I wouldn't tell him, but I don't think Whizzer can handle this on his own." And off she went, leaving the Legion watching.

"What's the problem, people? Let's go." The Patriot looked over them all and, as a group, they were moving again. Soaring over skyscrapers, Red Raven carried the Patriot with Miss America close at hand.

"So? Who is she?" Miss America asked. Anyone who knew her knew it was an innocent question. "What's her story?"

"Her name is Aryana. Besides that, I only know as much as any of you."

"She is strong in battle," Red Raven said, and Patriot nodded.

"Eager, too."

Miss America smirked. "Sounds too good to be true: A heroine who isn't just a sidekick."

"We don't know that," Patriot pointed out. The docks beckoned on the horizon. "There's a lot we need to learn."

"True." Miss America looked at the streets below. "I wonder what Bruce thinks of her..."

"I don't trust her." The Thin Man took steps entire yards in length, his legs paper thin and lanky. He twisted around Jack Frost's ice slides, which Blue Diamond rode as well, smiling.

"Too tough for you, Bruce?"

He didn't smile back. "Too mysterious. Too 'came out of nowhere'."

"She's good at what she does. I think she deserves a chance." Jack saw the giant figure of Humungor first, then the two relatively tiny figures. Behind them, the ocean.

"You'd think anything resembling an hourglass deserves a chance." Bruce stretched himself more, trying to get ahead. "Even if it had a shwastika on it."

"Hey: That's not fair." Diamond was preparing to jump off. "Not even for Jack. She seems American enough."

"So did the Battle-Axis members." They fell silent and, three shadows over them, entered the battle. It wasn't a long affair...They didn't except it to be. As the Patriot and Red Raven cleared the water of vessels, the others kept Humungor distracted. Once safe, Thin Man wrapped his entire body around its legs a few times over. He wouldn't squeeze until just the right moment.

"Now!" Aryana cried. She flew at the side of Miss America, who carried Blue Diamond, and swooped in unison as he was thrown. The two-hit punch was felt all the way down to Thin Man and served as his signal. He tightened all the way, felt the metal give...And recoiled just in time to watch the giant fall into the ocean.

They all waited. Maybe it wouldn't work. But there was a sizzling sound, and a smell of electricity. Nothing resurfaced.

"We did it!" Aryana pumped her fist into the air and flew a loop. Her smile was shining in the sky. She feel the eyes on her, and didn't see them until she came down. "We did..." Fourteen eyes. The awkwardness was thick. Patriot spoke first.

"That wasn't bad. Not bad at all. The Legion isn't used to being shown up."

"I...I didn't mean to offend anyone. I just saw the robot and...I wanted to help."

The Patriot looked around the faces of his team and returned to her face. All but one were encouraging. "And that's the sort of attitude we're looking for. You're obviously powerful, and honestly, the Legion is always looking for a shot in the arm." Aryana's heart beat faster. Faster still as he continued.

"But we've encountered too many fakes. Too many Nazis posing as one of us, or Americans who've turned on us. We don't know anything about you. So I might be risking something asking you this...But I'm willing to take that risk. If you can tell us the truth about yourself, and I mean everything, then we'd love to have you with us."

Aryana took a moment to ponder. All the realms of possibility flooded her brain. This man...More than any she had met so far, she wanted to tell him the truth. She wanted to tell him a number of things and she'd only known him such a short time. But the tenseness, the most important lesson, crept in. She didn't want to lie. But what choice did she have? She wasn't even of their planet. She recited what she'd practiced in her head so many times.

"...My name is Aryana. Aryana Queen. I was an explorer, and I found this." She grabbed her royal pendant, hanging from her thin neck. "I don't know what it is, but it gave me these powers. I know there's no real way for me to prove this to you, but there's nothing I'd love to do more than join your group. Only......I'm not from America." The Patriot felt his spirit sag for an instant. "...I'm from Canada." It rose again, slowly, with his smile.

"That's close enough for me. Only one more question: What do you call yourself? Besides Aryanna."

"I..." Something fitting. There was only one chance. "The Queen. Just the Queen."

He extended his strong hand to her. "Then I think I speak for all of us when I say: Welcome to the Liberty Legion, Queen."

I still didn't trust her. But I was alone, not just on the team...As the month went by, the city loved her too. Then the country. I told you we were celebrities? We didn't know the half of it.

The summer of '42 belonged to the Queen. She fought alongside us the whole time, against things like the Ultra-Nazi, the Battle-Axis, and, yes, another monster robot, and she grew even more comfortable. With that comfort came a trust between her and the others. It also made her appearances all the more showy.

America's love affair with the Queen. You'll be hard-pressed to find much evidence of it now…Most is probably rotting away in some antique shop. But she was it. She wasn't down-home like Madeline. She was the sexy super-starlett. The next Rita Hayworth. Even got her picture on the cover of Time. She was more popular than all seven of us combined.

She didn't have a secret identity past the name Aryana that we knew of. She lived in Times Tower, and none of us did that, besides the Patriot. Jeff…She managed to keep her celebrity life and her one with the Legion separate except for him. The spark was there from the day they met and grew from there.

Soon pictures of them covered the papers. Public sightings were on the radio minutes afterwards. They didn't care: They thought they were in love. When we left the tower at night, they were together. Still there when we came back in the morning. Jeff, he told me once, "I haven't let anything distract me from this war before." It was true. "But Aryana…Sometimes I'm scared by what she does to me. I feel like I'd do anything for her. Anything."

It was supposed to be a good thing. But it chilled me. I knew what love was. I knew how it makes you feel, what it could make you do…Any American woman wouldn't distract the Patriot or someone important like that during wartime. Olalla understood that. Olalla…

No one agreed with me. She was everyone's sweetheart. Old Bruce was just being grumpy again. Sometimes I almost thought they might be right. And then came Labor Day.

September 6, 1942: Labor Day

Aryana was in a hurry. She and the Patriot, Jeff to her of course, had flown in for some business in D.C. involving Lady Lotus, mind-control, and the embarassment of House Representatives...It was over soon enough. When they heard the news on the radio, they were rocketing back up the east coast to meet the rest of the Legion.

"Maybe we should set up a place closer to the docks?" She said somewhere over Manhattan. "There seems to be a lot that happens there."

"That might be nice, actually. The sea air...Having a such a great view to wake up to."

"Hmmm," She cooed, holding her man tight under his arms. They'd become used to traveling like this, even grown to enjoy the closeness it lended. At their speed, they were making good time, so good that Aryana hardly noticed as they approached the sea. She just looked down into Jeff's eyes. "I'm starting to forget why we're even going there in the first place." He looked back into her eyes...And shot his look away as the noise rang out.

They had arrived at the docks, and looking up, Aryana suddenly remembered why they'd gone there: Aliens. The past month had managed to erase the term from her view of herself, enough that she hadn't given it a second thought before they left Washington. She recognized the ocean, and worse still, she recognized the stout, hair-covered creatures her team mates were fighting.

Aryana's eyes went to saucers. She breathed out lightly, "Jernites..." Jeff didn't notice, set on what was before them.

"Fly me in, honey," He said, tensing in her arms. "I want to get in close." Her heart raced, and her stomach fluttered, not in the good way. She would have to move quickly...She couldn't be seen. The Patriot was practically pitched towards one of the simian things on land. He began fighting upon landing and felt a wind push past him.

A number them had piled on Blue Diamond, making it almost impossible to seem him. One would be tossed aside and another two would gain an advantage. "Ugliest, smelliest things!" He punched a hole through them, straining for air. He got a look at his own body and raised his eyebrows: He had "diamond hard skin". Blood from all the tiny scrapes dripped down his forearms. One of the apes spoke to him.

"Ugly? Bald. Weak...That is impure. Ugly." Something brought Diamond back under, and he felt tired. Then the wind blew cold on his wounds. All the weight was lifted from him and he fell to his knees: They were gone.

Can't be seen. Aryana counted twelve of them, meaning only an expedition group. Fast as possible.

Nothing the Thin Man did seemed to affect them. "Argghhh!" He felt his body stretched to its literal limits, each end pulled by one of the aliens. His arms were no use. He felt just how thin he could be. "Alien...Scum.....Agh!" A sharp tug. Bruce figured this was it. And then he snapped back together, a painful release. He could barely pull himself to a normal size to prepare for more...But they were gone. His eyes barely followed the blonde streak through the air.

Can't be seen.

Jack Frost's brittle body had been chipped away at. It was a pain he'd never felt before. Red Raven was trying to pull him from the ferocious group that planned to do much worse. Their strength was quickly overcoming the both of them...The Raven had never seen such animosity. "Back!" He cried, clutching at Jack. He pounded at them with his fists, fired beams from his wingtips. Neither they nor Jack's ice would stop them. There was no reason: Only burning rage. A heavy wind extinguished the fire of that rage, erasing its source completely. Raven and Jack were left wondering why they weren't dead.

As fast as possible.

The Whizzer left a spray behind him running across the Atlantic. Two of the aliens trailed behind him on a floating deck that, to his surprise, was keeping up. He took a sharp turn, which turned into an arc, hoping to circle around them enough to create a miniature hurricane. He found them still on his heels, and then with a grunt, one on his back. With the weight Bob Frank fell below the waves, the stench of the alien's musk succumbing to the salty water.

"Bob!" Miss America took a straight line down to where he'd seen him disappear only to find an angry interception on the way. She could hear it crack its joints and saw it smile. "Heathen," It called her in a gruff voice as they clashed on its platform. A strong wind blew downward past them. A splash in the water, another wind, and the Whizzer was set on the platorm, wet but unhurt. Both his and Miss America's attackers were gone.

"The hell...?"

Aryanna carried eleven at once. The weight was nothing, not now. As fast, as deftly as she could, she carried their bodies to the shore. She knew she hadn't been seen, at least not by the Jernites. Approaching land she saw that the chance for being spotted hadn't passed.

"Jeff..." She saw the Patriot barely dodge a giant, hairy fist that smashed the ground where he had been. Following the arm up, she saw him and remembered: General Thrau. She had never seen him, only heard tales of his power. With his power he could have been king...But he chose to be a soldier. And Jeff was facing him.

"Why are you here?" The Patriot asked, bounding out of harm's way again. "Fighting us will get you nothing!" Trau's voice was large, just like himself.

"We have come seeking a refugee. An alien fugitive who may have fled to your planet." Again, a hit, and again he missed. Trau was playing with him.

"We don't have any alien refugees," Jeff assured him. "Not here. But we can help you find them if we can just stop this." The next blow was landed, and Trau smiled to watch the little man fall.

"Why...?"

"Because," Trau loomed over him, blocking the sun's light completely. "We are the Jernites: What help we need, we take from Seitsu. And if you do not worship Him...Then you are our enemy. Tell me, do you follow Seitsu?"

Jeff tried to rise but found a heavy foot on his chest. "I...Don't know what you're talking about....." Trau's arms raised over him.

"Ignorance is the root of evil."

"Enough!" Eleven bodies dropped into the water and sunk, unconsious. Aryana was done watching. She was through avoiding them. She had risked the others, even Jeff. As she flew in Trau looked up and smiled.

"Ah..." And she was there already, face to face with the general. Their arms intertwined in a battle embrace. "And here she is. You do have our fugitive. The time has come to join your people, your majesty. And soon this planet."

"...Aryana...?" Jeff was recovering. Maybe he heard wrong. Maybe not.

"No!" Her own rage flooded out. A hundred punches were landed in seconds, toppling Trau but only bruising him. "You won't take this one!" He tried to rise, and grappled with her pendant, but she beat his face two fists at once. "You. You Jernites and your holy war. Why can't you accept difference? The Ch'Tunn never did anything to you! We were even willing to put away what we thought of your race to finally make peace. And what did you do?"

Still pounding relentlessly. Not noticing the crowd gathering around her. "You slaughtered an entire people for not agreeing with your religion. So now you rule another planet. Is that what your Seitsu wants? More power? More deaths?" Aryana grabbed her royal pendant, the one reason she could do so much to this military legend. It wasn't just a pendant: It was the symbol of her own god...The same Seitsu the Jernites worshipped, and at the same time, a very different one. "If so, then He will accept what I'm doing now."

Aryanna looked down at the red pulp that had been Trau's face. Her breathing was uncontrollable, her body tired. She stepped to the side and continued staring at the dead legend. The Queen had achieved the Ch'Tunn's revenge.

Once her breathing rectified itself, the only sound Aryanna could hear was that of the Atlantic waves gently rolling off the beach. There were bodies plastered with wet hair washing up on the sand. Red Raven was there, kneeling by them, checking something. Their eyes were open and blank...No animosity. Nothing. Red Raven joined the others, making something like a semi-circle before Aryanna. "They are dead," He announced. Again, a silence. Aryanna felt the blood dripping off her hands.

"You lied to us." The Patriot tried not to sound hurt. It was difficult.

"And what if I had told you the truth?" She was beyond decieving now, as she knew she should've been long ago. "Would you have let me join? Would you have even let me go? Or would you have let Bruce hang me for not being from the same country as you?"

Jack Frost and Blue Diamond held the Thin Man back as he spouted, "Canadian my..."

"Legionnaires don't kill," Jeff reiterated.

"You don't know the Jernites! If I hadn't killed them, we would already have more here, putting you all in camps and..."

"We could have imprisoned them. There's always another option." He hadn't ever taken that tone with her. In fact, they hadn't heard the Patriot take that tone with anyone. "We also don't lie to each other." They all were staring right into her. She was bare before them for the first time. It was painful.

"I...I didn't want to," Was all she had to offer. But it wasn't enough. Queen Aryana spent the end of Labor Day standing on the beach, staring at the waves. No one came to see her. She didn't have anyone.

"We never heard from or saw her again...No one did. A big scandle erupted from it when word got around, but she was already gone. Poor Jeff...It was hard on him. But he was a good, strong man. He handled it. We all carried on, and everything was back to normal in a few months."

"You kicked her out?"

"Of course. She was a liar, an alien...We didn't need that in the Legion."

"Mister Dickson, she...I mean, you didn't give her much of a choice." Devin felt him glare down on her and she felt very small.

"We didn't do anything. That was the way America was...That was the way it had to be." Bruce Dickson, the Thin Man if he was still wearing the costume, leaned forward.

"But what about the Red Raven? He was basically the same story..."

"He didn't lie. Listen, honey, you just...You have to understand the time, Devin. You had to be there."

"...I guess...I guess you're right." Mister Dickson was looking tired again. "I always like these stories of the past. They put me in the mood to write...You think it would be okay if I worked on some poems and went to bed?" He hestitated, then smiled faintly.

"Yeah. You go ahead and do that. G'night, Devin," He said, and she back to him. He watched the young black girl leap from the open window and glide to a condo balcony across the street. When the light there went out, Bruce sat again, staring out at the distant waves of the ocean. They were just barely visible from his office.

It was late, and the chair was too expensive not to be comfy. Nodding off, he almost thought he saw something moving right over the ocean. Lights...Something. Bruce Dickson wasn't a young man anymore. He was asleep before the thought fully formed.

Alan Downs
February 27, 2002

Next Issue: New faces abound as we flash forward and take a look at the modern day's legacy heroes! Seeds for the new Liberty Legion are planted...But will they be destroyed by a 60-year-old threat? Second prologue of "New Under the Sun".