Please don’t wake me up. Can it be true? I exist in a universe where I have super powers.
Well, I lost them for a bit while I was saving my parents from the death of our home planet Argon. Those red dwarf stars like the one I was born around seem to drain me all of my powers.
The teenage superheroes who brought me into deep space are perplexed to find that things aren’t what they expected. I have another question for them.
“So, my home planet Argon was destroyed by Consumptus; he’s the greatest threat to life in the cosmos; why aren’t you time traveling superheroes going into the past to disrupt the origin of Consumptus?“
“As I explained,” Galavac 7 impatiently answers, “this was our maiden voyage. Besides, our faculty adviser frowns on altering the past. That could get us expelled.”
“Besides,” the telepathic Titan Teen mind-implanted, “where does it end? You’ll have us going back to the beginning of time to solve everything.”
When we get to interstellar space my powers come back. I urge Titan Teen to use her super empathic abilities to point us toward the trail left by Consumptus after he finished off Argon. The giant departed like a hyperactive comet, but the atoms of his victims may betray him.
Consumptus is discovered as he’s devouring the fourth planet of the star Alpha Centauri B. I thank the Organization of Extracurricular Super-Heroes for their help, bid goodbye to the Argonians Roj Ess and Aral Ess who should have been my parents but weren’t, and am given egress from the space-time bubble.
I anxiously zoom toward the triple star system ready to test my powers against this intergalactic mass murderer. But as I close in on Alpha Centauri B I feel a tingling and observe that this is an orange star. Orange is close to red. I stop in mid approach. Then I back away into true interstellar space.
Knowing a bit about astronomy, I decide to experiment. Whenever I’m close to a yellow star like Earth’s Sun I have a normal level of super powers. But what about orange stars? Orange stars are slightly older than yellow ones and there are lots of them. I’ll head for the endangered planet, but not too close at first…
I’m probably about three astronomical units from the orange Alpha Centauri B when I notice that something’s wrong. My rate of speed through space is slowing. I’m getting chills. I’m seeing flashes. I’d better turn away.
I try to retreat at super speed but can’t muster more than a casual departure. This orange star gives me limited power only. I’m guessing that I’ve lost a third of my energy.
Once free of the orange star’s sphere of influence my full powers return and I skate through the cosmos unfettered. Remembering the saying, “Oh Be A Fine Girl Kiss Me,” I know that an orange star is a Type K, and Earth’s Sun is a Type G. Argon’s red star was a Type M. I need to steer clear of Type K and M star systems.
That means I have little chance of helping the doomed world unless I can strike from afar and disable or eradicate Consumptus like a long-range sniper. But am I skilled enough for such precision? I almost destroyed our farm before I left Earth. I might take out the endangered planet by accident. Consumptus is already on top of it.
I swear, Consumptus has consumed his last planet! I’ve got to come up with something. I fly to an asteroid for a sit-and-think. Wow! I’m joined by my faithful Argonian super dog, Arkie!
I stroke Arkie and talk to him for a while until it strikes me: I feel stronger. But why? Looking out into the expanse I notice the closest star is blue. Blue stars are either Type B or Type O – the youngest newborn stars, many times the size and mass of Earth’s Sun.
The younger the star, the more it enhances my powers! Around this blue star I’m powerful enough to take on Consumptus. But first I have to lure him here…
If this universe continues to parallel the fictitious ones I’m familiar with, Consumptus should have a herald who’s scouting suitable planets for his master. Concentrating to the fullest of my extent, I utilize the combination of x-ray and telescopic vision to scan the intergalactic medium surrounding the territory of recent destructive activity. And there, as I hoped, rides a gleaming lapdog.
Within seconds I close in on the space surfing sycophant. He’s perusing the next victim planet, and the lament on his tragic face is palpable. I fly beside him, urging him to pull over. My powers astonish him. Impressed by my peaceful demeanor, he is attentive.
“If you truly regret your part in this genocidal campaign, you must call your master to the Regulus A planetary system.”
“There is no consumable living planet in that system. I was there only last month,” the silver slave objects fearfully.
“Your master will trust you. I will take care of the rest.”