Wrought Iron Cages
The Shattered Moon shone fragmented light down on the dismal, layered City. Lights winked on and off in the towering skyscrapers as if trying to outdo the star-speckled sky above. Wind whistled of the jutting corners and carved gargoyles of an enormous church on the seventh and highest level of the City, where a dark figure stared down from the steeple at the distant road built into the side of the structure. Eyes hidden behind a band of black glass spotted a small group of men turning the corner of the church, laughing wildly. Emotionlessly, the dark figure grabbed a long silver pole before jumping off of the towering roof without hesitation.
The dark figure free-fell for nearly one hundred feet before sub-vocalizing a command to an implanted cybernetic chip. A soft beep of acknowledgement sounded before the pole suddenly grew blades at both ends. Effortlessly, the pole was shoved into the stone work of the church, where it tore a long gash down to the street. Stopping several feet before slamming into the ground, the metal staff was wrenched out of the wall, allowing the figure to drop the small distance. Landing on crouched feet, the glass covered eyes watched the corner where they knew the group would round at any moment.
True to prediction, a band of about eight men came into view. Almost instantly, they noticed the crouched figure gripping a bladed pole. A richly dressed man with greasy hair gasped slightly. With a shaky finger, he pointed at the dim outline in the shadows. "W-who's there. S-step into the light."
A young man slowly stepped into a circle of light cast by a lonely street light. Long, straight black hair hung over a solid black trench-coat, which covered a solid black shirt. Solid black pants, shoes, and the black, glass band covering his eyes completed the dark ensemble. Dressed for the shadows. Slowly, a hand reached for the glass band and pulled them off, revealing cold, ice-blue eyes. They stared without emotion at the rich man, the empty look boring into the quivering man's soul. "Sidmond Vestra, I have come to see the end of your miserable life. Your continued patronage of the Slade faction ends tonight. As well as your illegal drug trafficking."
"M-men, whoever kills him first g-gets whatever he asks for. Anything." The greasy man gestured wildly at the assassin. The seven bodyguards grinned and began to yank out guns. Three died before they could pull out their weapons. The remaining four stared in horror as their companions shrieked their last breaths, collapsing in the swiftly growing pool of thick, crimson liquid on the ground. One began to shoot at the assassin desperately as the killer dodged the bullets effortlessly. The gun in the bodyguard's hand was the first to fall in two, swiftly followed by the bodyguard's torso. The man gurgled as he fell alongside the other dead. The last three bodyguards quickly met a similar fate.
The assassin slowly straightened from the last swing, his face and clothes flecked with drops of red. His eyes still cold, emotionless,…dead. Sidmond Vestra backed frantically against the unyielding stone of the church, whimpering and sobbing loudly and shamelessly. The assassin stood imposingly in front of him, the pole held in a stabbing position. "For a better City," he said without intonation.
A single, long scream was cut short in the dead night in a lonely part of the City.
---
CLANK!
A metal pole fell to the ground inside a dark apartment. A blood drenched coat was thrown carelessly on top of a small, metal and glass coffee table. Silent feet walked toward a bathroom, eyes comfortable in the dark. The sound of running water followed by a thick steam of hot mist. Light red water gurgled down a drain, chased by a long, shuddering sigh. A hand reached for the shower handle and turned off the stream of heated water. He still felt dirty.
Thick black locks clinging wetly to his face and neck, the dark assassin pulled on some clean clothes. All black. Heading for the kitchen, he finally turned on a light and noticed the small, grey envelope on the ground. Without a sound, he opened the letter and pulled out the paper.
Nightwing,
Apprehend and detain Koriand'r (Project 143). Await further instructions.
-Knight
Nightwing sighed and tore the paper to shreds.
---
Koriand'r, or Starfire as she was affectionately dubbed by her close friends, was whistling lightly while skipping ahead of her three best friends. There wasn't much to do in the Base, other than do schoolwork, tease the guards, or stare blankly at the ceiling in the living quarters. That's why Starfire enjoyed these carefully monitored walks in the enclosed gardens they were allowed once a day. They made her feel as if she were free, if only for an hour.
"Will you stop whistling, Starfire," droned a rather dark looking girl, holding a small book portraying a rather desolate looking castle on the front cover.
Starfire grinned happily at the girl…and gave out a particularly sharp whistle. "Raven, if I wish to whistle, I shall whistle. There are no laws prohibiting this."
Raven rolled her eyes and returned to her book while walking. The large, metal covered black man nudged her lightly with his elbow. "Rae, how on earth can you read while walking? I'm surprised you haven't walked into a pole or something."
Raven ignored him. A small, green teenager with pointed ears chuckled. "Dude, I'd love to get that on camera. BONK!! That would be so rich." He turned to the metal man. "Yo, can't you record her with your little red eye, Cyborg?"
Raven glared at him. "Yes, he could. That is, if he wanted his head torn off so I could promptly delete the evidence."
Starfire winced and giggled. "That sounds rather painful." She walked backwards, hands behind her back. "Beast Boy, what is the current time?"
The green boy fumbled with his wrist-watch. "Uh, hold on, I had the radio function on." He mumbled to himself as he flipped through the settings built into the watch. "TV, Internet, today's menu, calendar, whatever that function was…Ah, it's about nine."
Starfire gasped. "We must hurry to bed." She lowered her eyes. "This month's testing is tomorrow."
The friends glanced at each other sadly. Beast Boy tried smiling. "Uh, m-maybe it won't be so bad this time. M-maybe just s-some endurance and strength stuff."
The others tried smiling as well, but failed miserably. Suddenly, an alarm sounded out, accompanied by a flashing red light on the far wall of the garden. The four teenagers glanced at each other quizzically.
Over the klaxon siren, a computer voice rang out. "Intruder detected. All systems begin lockdown. This is not a drill, repeat, this is not a drill."
A guard suddenly ran up to them. "Get to your rooms before the lockdown initiates," he said breathlessly. "They're probably here for one of you."
The four nodded and suddenly ran in different directions. Starfire quickly lost sight of her friends as she left the gardens and ran for a thick metal door, her name written on a small plate. Pressing her hand on a green pad, it scanned her prints and opened the door. Running into the sparsely furnished room, she jumped into the bed and pulled the covers over her head as the resounding click of locks disturbed the silence. Slowly lowering the covers, Starfire glanced fearfully around. A shelf full of stuffed animals, a desk with a computer and swivel chair, a small rug on the metal floor, her alarm clock blinking the time on her bedside table. Nothing suspicious, nothing out of the ordinary. Just quiet.
Suddenly, the ventilation shaft on her ceiling burst open and a lithe body dropped to the floor. Starfire shrieked loudly, holding the bed sheets to her chest. The stranger stood up, a metal pole balanced precariously over his shoulder. "You're coming with me."
Starfire slowly backed away on the bed until her back rested on the cool metal wall behind her. "H-how did you bypass the ventilation shaft's lockdown? How on Tamaran did you navigate that labyrinth, for that matter?" She glanced toward the door. "Goodness knows, I've tried twice and had become thoroughly disoriented."
The dark man spoke without emotion. "I'm a professional. Now, let's both make this easy on ourselves." He pointed at the open grate above him without looking. "Get in there before I force you to."
Starfire's hands and eyes took on a green aura. "I should like to see you try, human." She flung a shimmering green sphere at him, which he merely dodged. The sphere detonated behind him, taking out the desk and chair. Starfire growled and flung two spheres. The man knocked them back with his metal pole, earning an exclamation of surprise as the girl was knocked back into the wall with her own weapons. She moaned, rubbed her eyes slowly, and glanced at the dark stranger slowly before promptly succumbing to the merciful dark.
---
"No, I can't keep her here.
A pause.
"Yes, it is a problem. I can't have her here."
Another pause. Pacing.
"Screw trust. I want her out."
Another pause. Angry breathing.
"Very well, but how long is she supposed…"
A sigh.
"Very well sir."
Silence. Starfire slowly opened her eyes. Groaning, she glanced around, her head throbbing madly. She felt limp, her whole body aching. She tried to lift a hand to her head and found her other arm following by itself. She gasped.
Slowly, almost lazily, Starfire realized that she had been handcuffed, her arms before her. One of her legs was also restrained. She followed the thin energy trail from her foot to a metal post. A bed post. She tugged feebly, but couldn't seem to function properly.
"You're awake."
Starfire winced as the lights overhead flipped on, stinging her eyes. Slowly, she cracked her eyes open to see the dark man from the Base standing before her. His metal pole was gone, as was his trench coat. For some odd reason, she thought of how he didn't seem much older than herself. His glass band around his eyes had not been removed, but she could feel his eyes flickering over her, as if studying her.
"You might find yourself a little helpless at the moment. My boss obviously knows ways to restrain a Tamaranian. He even outfitted the walls with some sort of metal that you can't break through." His head turned to the wall, as if he could see the aforementioned metal through the drywall. "When he did all this, I have no idea."
The girl also looked around. She was lying in a large bed in a white room with a closet and a white door leading to somewhere. Overall, it was very uninteresting.
"Why are you holding me captive, dark stranger?"
The man's head snapped back to her for a moment before he turned around and headed for the door. "I have no idea." He left the room, closing the door behind him. Starfire sighed and leaned back against the pillows.
Hmm, decided to try my hand at a little Teen Titan fan fiction. As you may have noticed, this story is grossly AU. And I renamed Robin as Nightwing because I am utterly convinced that it's Richard (Dick) Grayson under that mask, the first Robin. Also, the team in the show seems to point toward the very first Teen Titans team. Only now, they're missing the Kid Flash and Wonder Girl. I seriously think that the poetic licenses taken in the making of this show were taking things from all over the comic strips and mashing them into a conglomeration of inaccuracies. I mean, the staff thing is really Tim Drake's (Third Robin), but in the "Starfire's gets smacked into the future" episode, he's Nightwing.
Ooh, I'm ranting, aren't I. Ranting is bad, bad author. Um, just so you know, the story takes a bit of the scenario from a Rurouni Kenshin fic, a Star Wars/The Negotiator type city, various elements of science fiction, and a whole lot of Teen Titans. Next Chapter is in the works.
-Razvanor
