By some favorable stroke of luck Queen Bee had not attended the chaotic meeting of the Light and the Reach. The news of betrayal and of the traitorous son of Black Manta had reached her quickly though. And she was fuming that a bunch of children had been able to do so much damage in one night. She agreed with them on one point though, the Light had underestimated them.
She wasn't going to make that mistake again.
Determined to retaliate in the same kind that they had she formulated a plan. It was rough and not of the kind she usually went for, but she found it fitting in a sense of ironic and twisted justice. The Team had sent one of theirs into the Light's ranks, so so would she. The smile Queen Bee sported while striding down the long and polished hall of the Biayalian palace was wickedly victorious.
The sound of fighting reached her long before she reached the outdoor courtyard. Entering the far end of the yard she could see the sparring match taking place at the other end clearly. All of the combatants were part of her royal security or private corps (a Queen had to have the best intel on her opponents afterall, or just a way to ensure that overly vocal opponents wouldn't stay around long). The person she was looking for though was part of neither.
Samira was the daughter of Queen Bee's deceased younger sister. Her father had never been named, and her mother had died mysteriously shortly after the girls birth. Or at least, the press was told that she died mysteriously. The press was never told that it was most likely poison that had done the queens sister off-or that Samira even existed. Queen Bee was very happy to remain the only possible ruler of Biayalia.
But she wasn't so idiotic as to cast the child out. Instead Queen Bee took her in and gave her a place in the palace. As she grew the child was trained and molded into a loyal servant to the Queen, to do whatever the Queen asked with no questions. She was an assassin for the Queen, though Bee felt the word didn't quite encompass her well enough. The girl was viciously intelligent-enough so that the Queen would have had her quietly shot and left somewhere in the desert if not for the fact that she'd never once shown any desire to rebel against the Queen.
The Queen leaned against a wall in the shade, only straightening to a more queen-like stance when she saw Samira approaching her. The teen was painfully similar to the Queen's sister in looks, with light green eyes and straight black hair. Her skin was lighter than the Queen's by several shades, more of a honey-brown than anything.
"My Queen! If I had known you were coming I would have made sure to make myself more presentable," Samira said, casting an ashamed look at the sweat and dirt that covered her and her clothes from the sparring match. She dipped her head respectfully to the Queen, and Bee didn't miss the almost puppy-like look of adoration that beamed at her. The girl was more loyal to her than one of her thralls! It was cute, but almost annoying, in the Queens opinion.
"Do not be ashamed for training, child," the Queen spoke with an air of authority that was natural to her. "I have a mission for you. You've heard of the Justice Leagues little sidekick group, haven't you?"
"Yes, your highness. What is it that you wish me to do?" Samira asked, tilting her head slightly. For an eighteen-year-old who had an assortment of assassination, blackmailing, and information retrieval missions in her past she could seem as innocent as a puppy. The Queen blamed it on the green eyes-her sister had always been able to manipulate their parents with them. Or, at least until the Queen had figured out her own way of manipulating them.
"Infiltrate their ranks and destroy them. Take as much time as you need to do so, as long as in the end they are crippled beyond repair. Be thorough and make sure to not leave any loose ends untied,"-she gave the girl her best glare, which would have been enough to melt a glacier in one glance-"I'm leaving it to you as to how you wish to do so. You have yet to fail me, but if you do so with this it will be the last thing you do. Understood?"
Samira hadn't flinched at the threats. In her line of work they were as common as the sand in the desert. But there was something that was bothering her, the Queen could see it. "I don't wish to question you, my Queen, but what about the Martian on their team? If she reads my mind then you will be in more danger."
The Queen hadn't forgotten about the green mind-witch. Psimion had only recently recovered from the dart that the traitorous Tigress had shot him with. Her plan wouldn't work without him, but she didn't have to worry about that. "Psimion will be able to help with that," she soothed. "He has improved upon his ways since he last dealt with the martian."
That seemed to be enough to ease Samira's worries. "Your wish is my commanded then, your highness." the look of puppy-like adoration had crept back into the girls eyes, but the Queen felt no need to feed that adoration with any kind words. She had a country to rule, and a Team to watch fall.
Before anything else, Queen Bee was a woman with an agenda.
Espionage, hacking, and combat Samira could handle without batting an eye. But trying to attract the attention of the superheroes without seeming like an attention-hungry kid? That was most definitely not something she had been trained for. But who was she to question her queen? So there she was, crouching on top of a shipping container in Gotham's harbor, dressed in her new guise as Caracal, teenage vigilante.
The costume was fun, but the long ears that went with it made her feel ridiculous. Though the Biayalian scientists hadn't failed to impress-the ears caught and amplified sound waves. If she wanted to Samira could have heard the heartbeats of the criminals she was about to take down. She liked the mask though-it was a tan colored metal thing that covered the top half of her face. It was stylized to look like her namesake the caracal, with white and black markings around the yellow eyes. The suit had all other sorts of goodies in it that she was excited to try. The mission promised to be interesting if nothing else.
"Yah, boss says we have tah move the cargo to'night," her attention was caught by the amplified voice of one of the gang members.
"What else would we be down here to do, idiot!" another voice hissed.
Samira crept closer along the top of the shipping containers, careful to be aware of her situation. It wasn't the criminals she was truly interested in-just attracting the attention of Gotham's local vigilante. Batman had seemed like more of the logical choice when it came to trying to get herself noticed. Gotham city was a cesspool of criminals and attracted the occasional vigilante other than the Bat. And from what she'd heard, the Bat was pretty territorial when it came to Gotham. But in the three weeks she had been there he hadn't showed up yet.
Lightly she dropped down from the top of the containers and rolled to her feet upon landing. Gasps and semi-unintelligible words fell from the thugs mouths as she strode towards them. "Sorry boys, but the only cargo being moved here tonight will be your sorry rears getting dragged to jail," she had made sure to switch her accent to an American one. The fun thing she was finding out with being a hero-type was that you could banter more freely.
"I don't think so!" the closet thug yelled, rallying the gang to fight. What an intelligent battle cry that makes, Samira thought sarcastically as she slid under the swing of the thugs punch. Another thing that she was loving about her Caracal suit was that the black vambraces and attached gloves were electrified. She swung her leg low, catching the thug in the back of the knees. He fell with a whoosh of air, and before he could react she had placed her glove on his neck and activated the electricity. The thug fell still with a sizzle, alive, probably in pain, but not mortally wounded.
There were only five thugs, but they were trained just enough to be a nuisance. A kick to the face had the next one down, and a cracked rib was enough to stop the third. The fourth was downed by electrocution, while the fifth was unlucky enough to get a broken arm. Alright, so she was struggling with how to dial back her normal fighting style-but she was trying, right? Or at least that was what she told herself to try and calm her nerves as she stood among the various moaning thugs.
"Alright, let's see what your cargo was, shall we?" she asked to no one in particular, and got only a moan from the man with the broken arm in response. Sashaying over to the crate she dug the metal claws of her glove into the crate's lid. With a jerk she pried the lid off of it. "Oh. I didn't give you guys enough credit." she pursed her lips and rested her hand on her hip. She hadn't been expecting it to be an arms shipment. It was a mixed assortment, but just from a glance she could tell that they were all on the high-powered end of guns. She'd used a couple of them before on past missions.
Her cat-ears picked up a gentle thud, but it was enough to cause Samira to tense slightly. She turned to see the Batman standing only a few yards away. Sure, she had been trying to attract his attention, but it didn't stop him from being terribly terrifying. A quick movement behind him caught her eye, and she could see the figure of who could have only been Robin standing on one of the containers. Okay, so I get to meet both of them.
"Who are you, and what are you doing in Gotham?" his voice was low and slightly gravely. It did justice to what she expected from someone with his reputation.
"Caracal. And I'm trying to stop things like this,"-she motioned at the open container of guns-"from getting into the wrong hands." I hope that sounded hero-y enough. Samira held her head high to try and convince her heart to stop beating so fast. The mix of adrenaline and the healthy dose of fear that was running through her veins could be helpful in a fight, but she didn't want to make a mistake so early on in the game.
"What sort of name is 'Caracal'?" her cat-ears picked up a muttering that could have only been from Robin.
Batman approached, stepping around one of the thugs to do so. Samira stepped away from the crate as he investigated to try and give him more room. "Your methods are cruel and you fight like an assassin. Who trained you?" being accused by a black-cloaked man who was standing just three feet away was intimidating, but she'd faced worse. Was it that obvious as to what she was? I guess it is. But this plan can still work. Samira forced herself to not react besides tilting her head slightly.
"Who trained you?" she retorted, crossing her arms defiantly.
"And your gear, it's pretty high-tech for a kid to make."
Samira decided that the best answer to that was not to answer. Instead she just gave him a flippant shrug. Taking a step back away from Batman she said, "Look it's been great meeting you and all, but I have other things to do so I'll leave this stuff with you."
With that Samira ran and vaulted herself onto the top of the nearest shipping container. She paused for a second on top of it, and that was when her cat-ears caught Batman saying, "I want you out of Gotham."
"Good luck with that!" she called back with a laugh.
As she made her way deeper into the city she ducked into an alleyway. She'd done her own research on the Batman, and he was notorious for leaving tracking devices on practically everything. Even though she expected it, it was still annoying to her when she pulled the small bat-shaped device out from where it had connected to her left vambrace. He was good-she had to admit that-Samira hadn't even seen the guy move to throw it on her.
She was tempted to crunch it under her heel, but instead she decided to make herself a bit more memorable than that. Walking onto the sidewalk she waited for a car to pass, and when it did, she tossed the tracker onto the underside of it. If Batman wanted to track something, he was going to get a wild goose chase.
"What do you mean she doesn't exist?" Tim's voice came over the comlink.
Bruce sighed and continued to try different search parameters on the computer. Everything came up with the same results though. And it was beginning to frustrate the world's greatest detective to no end. "Before three weeks ago there are no reports of anyone going by the name of Caracal. And no one has been reported using tech like hers. And no known cooperation is producing anything like it."
"One more thing to add to that list."
"What's that?" Bruce asked, truly interested. He'd sent Tim to follow the tracer he had planted since it was a fairly simple job as long as he stayed out of sight.
"She ditched the tracer, I just found it on a car in Blüdhaven." Tim's voice was as close to frustrated as it usually got.
Bruce didn't answer immediately, just let his head rest against the heel of his hands for a long second. "Come home," he ordered. He had a feeling that this was going to turn into a problem if not dealt with carefully. At best she was just a kid with unusual training trying to do good in the world. At worst, she was a rogue assassin. And neither were something that boded well.
If nothing more Caracal was someone he needed to watch and monitor carefully.
So this is a story idea that just wouldn't leave me alone, and I've been wanting to use Queen Bee in a story so Caracal happened. This will turn into a Kaldur X Oc story eventually, but I'm not going to rush that part of the story. I really do appreciate constructive criticism and any reviews at all really! -C