You are Kara Zor-El, one of the last living remnants of the once proud Kryptonian Empire. When you were but a babe, the empire fell. You were taken in by another of its remnants: The artificial intelligence known as Brainiac. It nurtured you when you were little, taught you lessons of your Kryptonian heritage, trained you to fight as they did. Direct and unforgiving.

As you grew up, Brainiac reestablished the Empire. He started out only with a few derelict space stations and ships and soon grew to encompass a few systems, bringing under heel various civilizations who owed their growth to Krypton. They were rebels, traitors, they refused Brainiac’s mercy and Brainiac taught them to respect their betters.

You watched it often, orbit bombings. Wars fought between Kryptonian war machines and whatever these species could muster. Whole species punished to toil to pay back for their crimes. Your heart hardened, the Empire was in dire straits, terrible things had to be done for a brighter future.

Soon enough, you were convinced. Krypton had to return. The resources and skills of the civilizations that once bent the knee to the homeworld had to be united to continue its purpose. To expand, to enlighten.

And you reached adulthood. 21 years of age in Kryptonian society. Brainiac outfitted you with an armour made of the best composites from the New Empire, and the most up to date technological advancements the AI could muster.

“Zor-El.” His robotic voice rang from the comms console below you. “My most precious asset, how I longed for you to feel the pride that stems from fighting for the Great Cause.”

“Thank you, Brainiac.” You replied. “I have anxiously waited for this day myself.”

“It is good to hear. Allow me to remind you of your mission: You will be dropped into the government building of the Kazarrian Empire, the foremost polity on planet Racker V after the Empire’s collapse.”

You watched the planet below you as the ship approached the landing zone. A grand urban sprawl appeared below. Brainiac went silent for a moment as the dropship’s shields were taking fire from ground-based orbital lasers. The ship shook for a moment, but soon stabilized under the heavy fire.

“Worry not, Zor-El. Their technological level cannot match ours. Our shields will hold.”

“Yes, Brainiac.” You replied.

“As I was saying, with the taking of the Kazarrian Emperor, Racker V’s united front will collapse. They will understand there is no point in their defiance. Whatever pockets of resistance will remain will be dealt with accordingly. I expect this new strategy I have devised with you as its spearhead to reduce the damages caused by planetary reclamation by…” The console goes silent for a moment. “One hundred a thirty thousand, five hundred and thirteen point five eight zero…” Brainiac drones on with the decimals.

“Brainiac.” You cut it off.

“Zero three percent.” Brainiac says. “I have rounded off the last decimal for your cognitive system’s convenience.”