JLA Watchtower (Archive)

Crown Regent Garth sat at the council table with his head in his hands. It was appropriate that the table had been fashioned from the hull of a German U-Boat during the last major naval war. Only battles seemed to be fought on its surface. The council members had filed out one-by-one for a long awaited meal break, leaving Garth alone for the first time in ten hours.

Looking over his notes Garth searched for any progress in the endless bureacracy. The issues of increased security for the Tritonis Festival of Endless Tides had taken only half an hour, the easiest challenge of the morning. It had taken four hours to review and discuss the preliminary report from the United Nations weapons inspectors in Cerdia. There was growing friction between the UN inspectors and Atlantean occupation forces.

Sub Diego had taken the rest of the afternoon. Half the council wanted Atlantis to swoop in with a broad military force and annex the city. Garth believed he had managed to convince them of the troubles that would rain down on them with a direct war with the United States. Not that Garth didn't believe they could win, but the tactics it would take would kill millions of innocent Americans over a handful.

Another group of Councillors had believed that the diplomatic visit in a couple of weeks would provide the opportunity for us to extend Atlantean citizenship to any Sub Diegoans who voluntarily chose to relocate to Poseidonis. The were problems with that theory also, not the least of which was that many Atlanteans held a certain distinct xenophobia.

Garth smiled weakly. At least they had all agreed on one thing. There was no desire to leave Sub Diego to its own devices to live or die on its own. Garth shelved the issue until after his visit.

If only Arthur would get off his scaly butt and lead those people. Garth wasn't sure what he was dealing at, but then Aquaman had always been less than forthcoming with his young apprentice. He was probably jealous that Garth had managed to get the government functioning so well when it had taken threat of force for the former King of Atlantis to do so. Garth made a mental note to assign additional security to his bodyguard detail.

Garth muttered, "You won't catch me off my guard when you get the desire for power again old fin."

A nervous cough behind him startled Garth and he realized he wasn't alone. Martol, his young administrative assistant, moved to his side, pretending not to have heard. "You are scheduled to meet with the delegation from the Tritonis merchant's guild in five minutes, sir." The young woman smiled warmly, but Garth did not even notice. "I also have a memo from the communications office about some internet sites that are popping up with Black Manta's name attached to them. I've attached all the relevant information for your review." She handed him a memory disk.

Taking the disk and switching off his note-puter, Garth stood, took a boxed lunch offered by his assistant, and walked from the room without a word. He chose to ignore the frustrated sigh he heard from Martol. He had been hearing it too much lately.

Morning in Sub Diego finds the residents waking up to discover several million dollars worth of emergency supplies crated and prepared for underwater use sitting on the council office steps. All signs that it might be from Atlantis have been removed. How it got there without being seen by guards and patrols is unknown.

A day later a small box containing two bottles of Atlantean Ale is delivered to the same location. The note inside reads "Barry Cole, Sub Diego city council. You have friends. One bottle is for you. One is for Aquaman with our compliments." There is no signature, but Councilman Cole knows who it is from.

OOC: Reference: http://www.livejournal.com/community/jla_watchtower/506601.html