((Just a quick note to anybody who was confused by Destiny and his visit to Jango; Destiny is a canon character of the DC universe, who is basically something like a god. He controls the fate of the people in the DC world and is one of the Endless Ones, a group of similarly divine entities. I just wanted to include this so people don't think I just randomly created an crazy OC for that scene. Another one of the Endless Ones is going to make an appearance later, so stay on your toes :3))

'So this is what it's like being a clone.' Jango thought wryly, sitting on a bench at the police station along with two-dozen other men dressed in the exact same uniforms and masks. The sergeant had explained to them that while most villains tended to fight among themselves, they would still make you a target if you were responsible for the capture of their own. "The last place you wanna be is on the hit list of a villain. They're crazy, but they're also damn clever bastards." The sergeant had said, with an air of experience, "You don't want them to know your name, your address, or your face. That's why you all have been outfitted with identical uniforms and masks. Anonymity will protect you."

Jango didn't mind the uniform too much. He was sure his armor would be much more efficient than the black army style coveralls they'd been given and his helmet would be a welcome replacement for the steel mask currently covering his face, but at least he was employed. Besides, after being the template for the clone army, seeing men who looked just like you wasn't that unsettling.

"First order of business," The sergeant started, gesturing to a row of police officers who held various objects in their hands, "Is getting to know the enemy. Now I know that it may seem like a bunch of psychological voodoo, but the first step to defeating an enemy is to know them. Seeing as we can't exactly talk to these psychos, we'll have to settle with the next best thing; their belongings." At this, the policemen set what items they had been carrying on the table.

"Each item has been labeled with the alias of its former owner." Said one of the policemen, "You've all been assigned a villain to try and analyze based on their belongings. Find which items belong to them and try to figure out something about them." With that, he stepped aside and let the men walk up and find the item that corresponded with their assigned villain. Jango had been assigned Harley Quinn. She was one of the villains on the wanted poster he had brought in, the one that dressed in an exuberant red and black costume.

Jango looked over the objects on the table, looking for something that belonged to her. He really didn't need to be doing this. He wanted to get a move on and actually do something, not waste time trying to psychoanalyze his prey with this petty exercise. Still, he didn't complain as he found a tattered notebook labeled with the name 'Harley Quinn' and retook his seat on the bench.

Jango opened to the first page. The name 'Dr. Harleen Quinzel' was written neatly in the upped left hand corner followed by a label that read 'Patient Notes.' The first few pages were filled with prim, tidy notes regarding complex psychological terminology and diagnoses. Jango flipped through the book. He noticed that the writing became messier and more erratic towards the end. He flipped to the last few pages to find them filled with a chaotic amalgamation of doodles and quotes. He focused in on the quotes. Almost every single quotation ended with a footnote that referenced some unknown piece of writing called 'Romeo and Juliet' and each one was relating to something to do with love.

'A hopeless romantic, no doubt.' Jango noted, flipping through a few more pages. He stopped on a page with a rather large picture of what looked like a fiery explosion, with the bodies of stick figures strewn across the margins. Jango was suitably amused by the crude drawing until the quote that was written above it stopped him in his tracks.

"These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

Which, as they kiss, consume."

-Romeo and Juliet

Jango reread the quote. 'And in their triumph die…' Jango remembered his conversation with Destiny. When he had asked him what he was to do, Destiny had told him, 'In your triumph die.' Had Destiny deliberately used the same wording as this quote? Could it have been coincidence? Coming from a being that claimed to be Destiny, it wasn't likely. If it had been quoted intentionally, then what did it mean? 'And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which, as they kiss, consume." Jango didn't like the ominous sound of that. Before he let himself jump to conclusions, he let himself try and figure out as much as he could with the given information. If the quote came from the same piece of literature that the other ones had, then it was more than likely about love. Why would Destiny order him to die while simultaneously quoting what seemed to be a romance?

"That's enough time!" The sergeant said, clasping his hands behind his back, "Return the items to the table and let's see what you figured out." Jango obeyed, his mind still elsewhere as he placed the book back on the table. He had learned some new things about Harley Quinn, but he somehow felt that he had probably just learned a lot more about something much more important.

%

The recruits spent the next day at the firing ranges as the sergeant walked up and down the lines, checking on their progress. Jango quickly realized that the weapons here were not like blasters. Instead of firing bolts of energy, these guns fired small metal projectiles. Fortunately, they functioned much like blasters and it didn't take Jango too long to master their use. The sergeant noticed. At the end of the day, he pulled Jango aside. "You've definitely got some skill in sharpshooting." The sergeant said, regarding Jango carefully, "Got any experience in the military?"

Jango simply nodded, his face as emotionless as ever.

The sergeant nodded as well, "Good, good." He murmured, almost to himself, "What about a family? You got a wife and kids or something?"

Jango forced himself to remain expressionless, "I had a girlfriend and I have a son." In his own universe, he wouldn't have given the information so freely, but what did it matter here? It's not like either of them could get hurt anymore than they already had.

"Had? Well, what happened to her?" The sergeant asked.

"Killed in the line of duty." Jango answered. It wasn't exactly a lie, but it somehow stung as he spoke it. He wished he hadn't spoken it at all.

"Sorry to hear that." The sergeant said, "And your son? Is he in Gotham?"

"No. He's living far away." Jango replied.

The sergeant nodded, "That's probably a good idea. Gotham's not the safest place for kids." The sergeant took a deep breath before continuing, "Listen, you've heard of Batman, right?" He didn't even give Jango a moment to respond before continuing, "Well, with the influx of new villains, I think it's safe to say that he could use a hand. I'm trying to assemble a group to help him out; a group of men who can give him backup when he's in a fix, you know?"

Jango nodded, "Why would I be interested?" He asked evenly.

"You're one of the best marksman I've seen here. You have military experience and we don't have to worry about your family getting hurt." He mistook Jango's averted eyes for disinterest, "And the men that join this group will make significantly more money than the others." He added.

Jango looked up slowly. "I'll consider it." He said, though his tone said he'd already decided to join.

The sergeant smiled, "Very good. If you're going to join, it would probably be convenient if I knew your name."

Jango hesitated, but only momentarily, "My name is Jango Fett."

%

The following day, Jango didn't go to the police station. Instead, he met with the sergeant and the other men in the warehouse specified the previous day. It was early in the morning and the inside of the abandoned warehouse was still dim. There were four other men besides Jango and they were all wearing the same black uniform and steel masks. The sergeant was the only one who's face remained unconcealed. He looked down at his wristwatch, "He should be here any second now." He muttered. As if on cue, Jango heard the faint sound of fluttering cloth. There was a tense silence that was followed by a soft thud and then footsteps. Out of the shadows, a being that must've been Batman appeared. Jango smirked. He was dressed like a particularly eccentric Sith with a flowing black cape and a bizarre black mask with small ear-like protrusions at the corners.

"You certainly know how to make an entrance." The sergeant said with a small smile.

"Mercenaries. You brought me mercenaries." The man spoke in a gruff voice that sounded less than pleased.

"You said you wanted help. And now you have it." The sergeant replied calmly.

"I said I wanted help, not criminals." Batman replied tersely.

"Criminals?" One of the other mercenaries spoke up, "You're the one on the wanted posters, not us."

Batman turned and walked away, his black cape making the whole thing quite dramatic, "I don't work with mercenaries. Forget it."

"Prima donna." Jango muttered. The other mercenaries snickered. The sergeant shot them all a glare before walking after Batman, "Hey, just give it a try. If it doesn't work out then there are no hard feelings. They might even help you bag some of those crazies!"

Batman turned slowly back to the group. His broad shoulders seemed to sag for a moment. "If the city wasn't in this mess I wouldn't even consider this." He said. He glared up at the mercenaries as if they were personally responsible, "I'll work with you all, but I have some conditions. First off, I don't want any civilians to be harmed. I don't care if it means you don't catch your quarry, if there are civilians at risk, make their safety your priority." Jango listened silently. He hated that preaching tone that permeated the other man's speech, but he kept his annoyance to himself. After all, he wanted to be paid. "Second, I only want villains to be taken alive." Batman continued, "It may seem easier to just kill them, but taking them alive means we can get access to information about the plans of other villains and potentially save lives. My last condition is that if there is a situation where it's me against one of them, do not get in my way." The tone of his voice indicated that this had happened before and the results had not been agreeable.

The sergeant looked back to the group, "You boys accept the conditions?"

One by one, they all grumbled their agreement.

"It's settled then." The sergeant sighed with relief.

"When do we start our first job?" Jango asked.

The sergeant gave him a grim smile, "Tonight."

%

Jango looked over the notes for what must have been the hundredth time that evening. Their first targets were beginning to be familiar faces to Jango. They were the same villains that had been on the wanted poster he had taken to the police station and one of them was the Harley Quinn he had been assigned to analyze in training.

The three females in the group were Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, and Changeling. Poison Ivy used to be known as Pamela Isley before her transformation into a villain. The range of her powers were unknown, though it was known for a fact that she was immune to almost all botanical poisons and she could secrete a deadly cocktail of plant poison from her lips. The second was Harley Quinn. Harley Quinn used to be Dr. Harleen Quinzel, a promising young psychologist who became a villain when she fell in love with one of her patients, a notorious villain known as The Joker. Quinn was known for her strength and agility, some of which was her own and some of which were various biological enhancements given to her by Poison Ivy. Changeling was an enigma with no history, name, or known relationships outside Ivy and Quinn. Her power was the ability to shape shift.

It was the similarities between her and Zam that bothered Jango. Both women had the same powers and 'changeling' was the official name for beings with the ability to shape shift in Jango's universe as well as this one. It was an unfortunate coincidence that the one he was supposed to arrest could stir such volatile memories. Such connections could jeopardize a hunt. Jango shook his head to clear his thoughts. There was no time to dwell on such things. His first job was about to start and he needed to help capture the trio, regardless if one of them reminded him of a former flame.

He put down the notes and walked up to the other mercenaries who were busy going over the plan. "Okay, so according to Batman, there's reason to believe that our targets will be attempting to burglarize a local museum." A mercenary was explaining, "It's got lots of priceless artifacts for Quinn and Changeling and a whole lab full of rare plant specimens for Ivy. There's going be an increased number of guards on watch to give us some back up, while we'll be placed in different wings to engage the targets should they try and take anything. Batman is going to be on the offensive, so the ideal plan is for the targets to be cornered between him and one of us. Pretty basic, if you ask me."

"Yeah, except we gotta catch those crazies alive." Another mercenary grumbled, "It would be much easier if we could just shoot to kill."

"You know the drill." Said another, "Just don't get trigger happy and everything will work out fine."

Jango looked down at his own gun. The inelegant pistol wasn't as good as a blaster, but it would have to do.

"Time to go!" The sergeant was only recognizable by his voice, since he now wore a mask identical to the one Jango and the other mercenaries were wearing, "We need to set up at the museum and we need to do it quietly. This might be the only time Batman will trust us enough to actually work with him and I don't want anybody doing anything stupid to mess this up." He turned sharply and motioned the others to follow. Jango took a deep breath. He couldn't be bothered with whether or not his prey reminded him of somebody he had loved in a former life. He blocked out his subconscious's disquiet, telling himself that he couldn't change the past and that he couldn't hurt anybody more than he already had.

It was just a job.