Disclaimer: The title and characters in Young Justice belong to DC Comics, a division of Warner Bros., an AOL Time Warner Company, not to me!
Young Justice Under Fire
"AHHHH! Jeez! Whaddaya wanna do, give me a heart attack!" Superboy shouted having flown halfway to the ceiling.
"Where is everybody?" Impulse asked darting in and out of every room in the Headquarters, completely unperturbed by Superboy glaring down at him.
"Cissie and Cassie are busy doing girl stuff. Red Tornado is in a very important meeting with the JLA -which is why I was left in charge here. And who knows where Robin and Secret are." Superboy informed Impulse as though it were all common knowledge and purposefully sat back down at the main control panel. "By the way, how come Headquarters' Security didn't register you entering the access code"?
"You forgot the code! How could you forget the code!?! It's 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 0!" Superboy shouted, completely unable to believe this one.
"That's a stupid code." Impulse said looking at his fingers as though maybe he had written the code on one of his hands.
"Of course it's a stupid code! We reset it for YOU! Besides, as Robin pointed out, any villain who finds our Headquarters and immediately presses the numbers on the keypad in sequence doesn't pose much of a security threat."
"Oh." Impulse said, vaguely aware that he was being dissed. "Where is Robin, anyway"?
"Good grief, Impulse! Why don't you just go play video games in the rec room. I'll call you if I need you."
"Right! That sounds like a plan." Impulse said, already out of sight.
Elsewhere, Robin was dealing with an annoyance of his own: the tail end of a 24-hour stomach flu that came out of nowhere on Friday afternoon. He had been up until four in the morning hugging the commode. In fact, he had fallen asleep with his chin resting on the inside rim of the toilet. About 9am, his roommate, Wesley, had graciously kicked him awake and sent him to bed. There he slept until Alfred tapped him on his forehead.
"Master Tim, you look awful." A crisp English voice connected to the balding, immaculately dressed man standing over him observed.
"Huh? Oh, Alfred. I've been kind of sick, but I'm feeling better now." Timothy Drake said groggily, sitting up on the side of his bed. "It was just something I ate."
"I'll be the judge of that, young man. Now lay back down. Let's see if you have a temperature." Alfred ordered, feeling Tim's head and neck. "You're a little warm, but I don't think you have a fever -which could change if you don't stay in bed this afternoon."
"Come on, Alfred. I've fought Gotham's worst sicker than this. Besides, I have a Young Justice meeting today. I told them I would try to make it. Red Tornado expects me to keep everyone in order, and…"
"The Red Tornado isn't expecting you to do anything. He is in a high-level meeting with the JLA. Master Bruce instructed me to tell you that Young Justice meetings are suspended until further notice." Alfred cut in, looking through his back for an appropriate stomach medication.
The mood at the JLA Watchtower was especially grim. Green Lantern had taken a cue from the usually affable Flash, who sat with his arms crossed biting his lower lip, that this was not the time for clever banter. Perhaps the best indication that this was not a pleasant social call was that Plastic Man had "accidentally" not been called.
"I'm sorry, Red Tornado, but there really doesn't seem to be any other way to avert a potential disaster." Superman said. "Young Justice is simply not capable of dealing with a threat of this magnitude."
"If we were dealing with a instance of clear and present danger, I would agree. However, an insubstantial threat doesn't seem to warrant disbanding Young Justice. And let's not forget that the group formed after thwarting a severe global crisis." Red Tornado replied with a hint of indignation punctuating his mechanical voice.
"You are neglecting the role Captain Marvel played in the Jinn event. The respective members of Young Justice are too young and inexperienced to function fraternally. They require mentors to guide them. Besides, the threat is far from 'insubstantial'." Batman said, dismissing Red Tornado as though he were a chess program with a corrupted file.
"You mean the members of Young Justice except Robin, don't you Batman"? Flash said, knowing that much of Batman's distain for Young Justice stemmed from it's inclusion of Impulse.
"These children are our future. They are our replacements. It is our responsibility to protect them, not just for their sake -which should be reason enough- but for the sake of Earth's future!" Batman instructed the entire assembly, ignoring the Flash's barbed question. "Young Justice must not continue until the current situation changes."
"I don't mean to sound indifferent to many of your personal investments in Young Justice. They are good kids who have proven themselves worthy heroes. But Batman is right; we have an extraordinary obligation to insure their safety." Superman said with distinct finality, letting everyone know the meeting had adjourned. "As we have learned firsthand, Prometheus cannot be taken lightly."
"Hey Imp!" Superboy shouted, poking his head in the rec room. "Apparently peace has broken out. There hasn't been an 'Alert-level event' all day! You mind takin' over the watch for a few minutes?"
"Sure. No problem." Impulse said, not even bothering to look up from Grodd's Revenge 3.
"Do you think you could do it now?"
"Yeah." Impulse replied, still not looking up.
"Like, right now!" Superboy said with his hands on his hips, about one micro-second away from turning off the Playtendo.
"Okay! Okay! I'm going. Where are you going to be?"
"After four hours of stock reports and political discussions, I'm about to konk. I'm gonna grab a cup of coffee and a hot shower. If anything happens, page me."
"Okay, so I'm in charge. Cool."
As Impulse was assuming command of Young Justice, Robin was watching the door close behind Alfred. He had hung around for two hours dusting the same mirror apparently intent on keeping the ailing "Master Tim" in bed. Had it not been for an offensive pile of dirty laundry, he would likely still be dusting the mirror.
"So the Justice League is trying to shut us down again." Tim mumbled to himself. "It looks like I have about 24 hours to find a way to keep us in operation. The first thing to do is figure out just what is eating them this time. And I know just who to call."
Still nauseous, Tim got out of bed and headed for his laptop. He could brush his teeth and shower later. Alfred would be back in about two hours: barely enough time to discover what was up and sneak out.
Somewhere in Western Pennsylvania two attractive girls were leaving the mall. It was a glorious Saturday afternoon. The sky was cloudless. The temperature was perfect. The day was all about Cassie and Cissie, not Wonder Girl and Arrowette, or so they thought.
As they headed for Cissie's mom's van, laden with three shopping bags apiece, they were being watched from behind the tinted windows of an inconspicuous mid-size sedan. The occupant of the car was only interested in recon. The best strategy was to take out the heavy hitters first and clean out the stragglers on the back swing. Obviously, the Young Justice Headquarters was being undermanned today.
"What do you mean, 'you can't say'"? Tim asked, not sure how to take Oracle's refusal.
"Look, Tim. All I can say is that something big may be going down, and it is safer for Young Justice to lay low for awhile."
"Batman thinks it's safer for me to be unaware of impending danger? That doesn't make any sense."
"You will all be notified once the JLA has concluded its meeting and devised a course of action. Batman, and the rest of the JLA, don't want you putting yourself at risk." Barbara told Tim, understanding how he must feel. In her opinion the JLA had a tendency to act too high and mighty with Young Justice.
"Sure. The JLA is convinced that we can't handle anything. They seem compelled to work against us instead of with us." Tim said, not bothering to mask the bitterness in his voice.
"It isn't like that, Tim." Barbara said, pretty sure that it was very much like that.
"Whatever. I'm asking you again, Oracle: What is threatening Young Justice? Either you tell me, or we find out on our own."
"Tim, don't be…" Barbara's voice stopped as Tim closed his laptop. It looked like Robin would be joining Young Justice this Saturday after all.
At Young Justice Headquarters, a very bored Impulse sat watching the Dow Jones fluctuate between -45 and -40. Superboy was right, nothing was going down anywhere. Surely, Impulse thought, it wouldn't matter if one screen scanned the cartoon channels. Of course, he wasn't exactly sure how to make that happen. There were a whole lot of buttons and dials.
Presumably, if he were to use his super-speed, he could figure out what combinations changed the channels. He didn't figure he could actually cause any harm if he just stuck to the view screen panel. Maybe he could even hook up the Playtendo to one of the monitors.
Elsewhere, Superboy was enjoying a long, hot shower. The Young Justice Headquarters certainly wasn't as fancy as the JLA Watchtower, but he had to admit it had a great shower. Constant temperature, multiple massaging jets, and soap foam dispensers, wash away a lot more than just dirt.
"It's a good thing I'm invulnerable, or I would be a prune by now." Superboy said, rinsing soap out of his hair -and feeling quite pleased that he had discovered yet another reason why it was cool to be Superboy.
Just then, as the day had begun to look up, disaster struck: Superboy hadn't even registered the locker room door opening, when he heard, "Kon! Kon-," and then a red a white flash came crashing into the shower on top of him. Apparently, Impulse had lost friction on the soapy wet floor and slipped.
"Impulse! What the hell are you doing!" Superboy shouted in rage, confusion, and embarrassment. "I'm naked here!"
Impulse didn't answer. He had been traveling at just under the speed of sound when he slipped and fell into Superboy. Even with the protection granted by the Speed Force, the impact had knocked him unconscious.
"Impulse! Impulse? Hey, man get up. This is totally uncool! What if someone saw us?" Superboy said lifting the limp, and thoroughly soaked, speedster off of him.
Superboy picked Impulse up and hoisted him over his shoulder, wondering just what could have had the little guy so excited. it was probably just a funny commercial, but I ought to get down check it out anyway, he thought, and turned off the shower.
"Superboy! Impulse! I just got an urgent message from Oracle on my com-link. We've got big trouble!" Robin yelled, running to the shower and nearly slipping, himself.
He had just learned that the "unnamable threat" was none other than, Prometheus, the guy who single handedly trashed the JLA. It seems that he had devised an excellent plan for ridding the world of A-list super-heroes: kill them before they make the list! Robin was about to share this fact with his teammates when he was struck by the incongruous image of a very naked Superboy carrying a very wet Impulse on his shoulder. "Uh…um… What, exactly-"
"Don't ask!" Superboy stopped him. Sure, this was going to take some explaining, but now, obviously wasn't the time. "What kinda trouble?"
"MORE TROUBLE THAN YOU CAN IMAGINE!" A sinister voice boomed, and the towering figure of Prometheus appeared in the dissipating steam behind Robin.
To be continued...