"Pretender to the Throne"
by M. A. Gore, A.K.A Knight Girl



After the quake, I moved my base of operations to Bludhaven. I though "the
'Haven" could use another protector. As bad as Gotham was before the quake, I'd
always heard Bludhaven was 10 times worse. Needless to say it's lived up to it's
reputation. To keep up appearances , I live in Metropolis as my alter ego, pop
star Melody Williams. If I fly, which is one of my powers, it takes only half an
hour to make the trip. One advantage to working here is that I can work with and
look after, Nightwing, the man I love. He doesn't really need my protection ,but
it makes me feel better.
One night on patrol, at about 2 a.m., we'd just about decided to call it a night
when we heard blood curdling screams from the streets below. We rushed down into
an alley, following the sounds, to see what was happening. We were horror
stricken to see the imposter we'd nick-named "Nite Wing" lunging about with a
knife, making as if he were trying to stab a man and woman. The frightened pair
cowered and retreated from him, screaming occasionally when his blade arched
nearest to them. From the looks of them they were most likely displaced street
people from Gotham City.
Tad was yelling; "We don't need anymore people like you here!" They were dressed
in rags and dirty and obviously had no place to go. Nightwing knocked the knife
out of Tad's hand, while I quickly led the couple out of the alley and away from
their attacker.
After I dropped them off at a nearby refuge center, I flew back, landing on a
roof top behind the two men who were now alone in the alley. I was close enough
to help Dick if he needed me, and well out of his way if he didn't. From my
perch I listened intently.
"I was hoping you'd be here Nightwing, so I made sure you'd come to me by
attacking those 'undesirables'. You seem to have a soft spot for people like
that. I've learned so much from studying you, from watching you. I almost hate
to kill you , but there can only be one Nightwing , and that's me!"
"Listen Tad, There's still a lot more I can teach you, like impulse control !"
Nightwing says. That's the Dick I know, I think , as I watch from above, always
cracking a joke, especially under pressure ! Me, I'm shaking. I have to stop the
fight, but how? I have to act soon, before someone gets killed!
"I'm not Tad, he's a loser ! I'm NIGHTWING!" screams Tad.
" So... the chinks in this 'knight's' armor are showing... you're an insecure
little boy playing dress-up ! Scared no one will ever notice you if you don't
play the tough guy! You think you can be a hero when you're nothing but a
school-yard bully..." the real Nightwing taunts his imitation, his would be
replacement, even as he circles him, looking for an opening.
That's it, Dick ! I silently cheer him on, Tear down his confidence, then
attack! I just hope it doesn't backfire and make Tad even more dangerous. Then,
just as I'd feared, Tad makes a wild, desperate move, throwing his knife aside
before leaping forward to land on Dick who'd been distracted by Tad's
unexpectedly disarming himself.
Tad now has his hands around his neck, choking him. It's now or never, I think
as I drop down from my perch , like a bird of prey. I land on Tad's back,
knocking him down. Both men seem shocked at my sudden entrance. "Mel...
Pegasus... get out of here !"
"You know this ... chick... with the mean right kick?" Tad wheezes, forcing air
back into his lungs, then he lunges, grabbing my leg and almost bringing me
down. I keep my footing but he uses me to haul himself up. His grip on me is
like iron. The strength of the mentally imbalanced always amazes me.
"I should've guessed; all you tight-wearing guys seem to know each other!" He
snarls at Nightwing before turning his full attention to me. "Hey, you're pretty
cute..." Tad grabs my neck and pulls me closer, trying to kiss me. Ugh. I use
his distracted state against him and twist his arm, the one he's got such a
crazed grip on me with, back behind him, flipping him over my shoulder; he hits
the ground hard, howling like a wounded dog. While he's down I check to make
sure Dick's okay.
He is. "Good work, Warrior Princess," he says, smiling weakly as he rubs at his
throat. I smile back, pleased to hear his pet name for me. "Now step back and
let me handle this..."
I do as he says, realizing Tad is back on his feet. Both 'Nightwings' are
prepared for round two. Tad of course throws the first punch and the fight is
on. They fight evenly for what seems forever, trading blow for blow until,
finally, Dick stumbles and the rhythm is broken. Dick catches himself before he
loses his balance completely and pulls back a bit, gathering his strength. Tad
then pulls something that looks like a Batarang, but with sharpened blades, from
his belt and throws it at Dick aiming for his head, but Dick has quicker
reflexes and kevlar lined gloves; he catches it out of the air before it can do
any damage.
"Well," Dick says, "if you want to fight dirty, we can." He looks at me as if to
say ,"I could use a little help here!" That's all the encouragement I need. I
rush in and give Tad a good punch in the gut....a punch that doesn't seem to
phase him for long. He still wants to fight me and I'm ready, willing, and able
to give it to him ! We square off and in a matter of seconds I'm able to land
another hard punch, this one sends him to his knees, struggling to suck in air.
Dick moves in and we both struggle to pin him down, but he won't hold still long
enough for us to handcuff him and I soon realize I'll have to use my best
defense weapon, the stun glove. Let me tell you, that thing can end a fight
quickly. One touch with that thing and he'll be out cold for at least 20
minutes. So, I put him out. Giving Dick the look I usually do, reminding him my
touch doesn't do any real, lasting harm, it's temporary and it sure makes him
easier to handle.
Since Tad's wanted in Gotham, we call the Gotham Police. Sure enough, they'll
send someone over to pick him up. It takes forever and we make a major mistake;
we let our attention wander away from Tad too long somewhere during the wait.
Just as the GCPD unmarked car pulls to the curb and I wave to summon them to
where Dick waits, Tad escapes. Somehow he'd managed to break his plasti-cuffs
without our noticing, waited until we were distracted enough and made a run for
it. He actually makes it to where a rusty iron ladder clings to the side of a 12
storey brick building, an ancient fire-escape past all real practical use.
Except for Tad. He leaps up, grabs the foot of the ladder, and starts climbing,
Dick hot on his heels. As they climb upwards, the GCPD men gather at the bottom
of the ladder, guns drawn, waiting on the outcome, anxious to help if the
opportunity presents itself but unwilling to get any further involved than that.
I take to flight, hovering on level with Dick, there to help if I can but also
trying to stay out of the way lest any interference cause Dick to fall.
Seconds later it's all over. Metal rungs rusted to pencil thickness give way
beneath Tad's weight and he falls back, narrowly missing taking Dick with him.
Dick's reflexes save Tad's life; a batarang flies home, trailing a thin little
cable in it's wake. At the other end, Dick is busily securing that end to one of
the ladder's struts, after running it around the ladder itself a few times, when
the line finally jerks taunt; Tad swings in the air, held aloft by the cable
looped around one ankle. He missed death by less than 6 feet. The GCPD officers
surge forward, taking the troubled young man into custody. Dick grins at me then
waves goodbye to the cops below. He continues his ascent of the building, this
time using his cables, not trusting that rusty ladder any more than he should. I
fly to the top of the building to wait for him there, thinking that no matter
what Dick thinks about himself some times, he is truly his father's son.
The End