Chapter 7
Proving Ground Part 3
Aziz slowly walked down the stairs. Despite all the wealth he did have, he had simple needs, and preferred to keep it that way, his only luxuries being his books, and perhaps his single motorcycle. To him, wealth was an indication of success, but not something you indulged in too much, for wealth weakened as much as it could strengthen. He lived a rather Spartan lifestyle, his own bedroom being mostly a library and weapons locker, his own bed being a mattress on the floor. He was quite happy to let his sister place the funds into educational projects around the world and providing loans to poor farmers, as he had directed.
The training session had ended, much to the relief of those assembled, due to the requirement for Aziz to pick up Anya from her school, Murakami Secondary School. It was one of the few times that he felt something close to peace, content to simply ride down on his motorcycle and pick up his ward. Officially the adopted daughter of Sophia Mendes, at least according to the paperwork, she was in reality more akin to an aunt. Even to himself, Aziz chose not to admit how he felt about Anya. Of course, the way Anya felt about him was more than obvious to everyone close to them, seeing him as her father and big brother combined.
His daughter. No. She was simply his ward, and he was her guardian. There was nothing deeper to the relationship than that. If any of his associates had known what he was thinking, they would have laughed at his denial.
Starting off on his Kawasaki Ninja ZX-6R as he mounted it, custom-modified with hydrogen fuel cells, nitrous oxide boosters and painted a matte midnight blue, it was capable of top speeds of up to 430 km/h, and able to go without refuelling for a respectable 3000 km on its hydrogen fuel cells, and a further 765 km on its 4.5 gallon fuel tank. A rare grin crossed his face as he gunned the engine. If there was an advantage to possessing extremely advanced picotechnology, this was one of them.
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Anya patiently waited for Az, sitting down on the steps. Strawberry blonde hair framed an oval face with deep set green eyes, a face that had not fully matured into its full beauty, though anyone looking at her could sense that she would grow into it. The awkwardness of puberty only served to accentuate her facial features, high cheekbones framing them.
If anything, in her later years she would inflame the passions of any human male, and many non-human males for that matter. This was, of course, to their detriment, given who her guardian was.
She heard a door slam, and turned to look at side stairwell, seeing Tara Markov exiting. Her senior by 4 years, Tara was a one of the prettier girls, known for her blond hair, blue eyes, slim body and lanky limbs, slender and athletic. Her body was lanky, an indication of her membership in the school cross-country team. She was also her tutor in geography and physics. It was a slow day, due to the weeklong break.
She had just finished her lessons at Aunt Soph's place, before heading down to her school where Az would pick her up. Just then, the roar of a powerful motor broke the silence of the school field, as her guardian came barrelling into the grounds on his bike. The minute she saw him, her face lit up, as a grin spread from ear to ear. She glanced at Tara, waving goodbye to her.
Running to the bike, she threw her arms around the rider, wearing a grey singlet, Bermuda shorts and wearing sandals. He tapped her head and mussed up her hair, slightly uncomfortable with the public display of affection as she hugged him tighter before letting go. Putting on her helmet, she mounted the back of the powerful machine, holding on tightly as it accelerated away, the wind whipping her face through the opened visor.
She failed to notice the intense interest of her guardian, as he intently watched Tara Markov from a distance, before pressing down on the pedal and accelerating onto the main road. Already, questions were forming in his mind. A premonition, and a memory, a face remembered in perfect detail, though one more aged, lurked in the back of his mind.
As they hit the open road, following the winding coast back home, she saw the sun setting in the distance. Tired from a long day, she leaned her head onto his back, and felt the security of his presence envelope her. She remembered vaguely a bad place, had suppressed those memories. She couldn't face them. But the one thing she remembered most was leaving that nightmare of her past. He had come for her. He had rescued her, her father. Shivering slightly from the wind, she clung onto him more tightly.
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Idimmu prepared the equipment, knowing that Gang Hu would be back soon. He had formerly been an electrical engineer, working in the maritime industry. An accident had robbed him of the ability to walk, but Sophia had given him the chance to walk again with her gift of cybernetic limbs.
Of his own choice, he had chosen to become one of her bodyguards, out of loyalty to her, though the salary and the opportunity to travel around the world had appealed to him. He had spent two full years gaining her trust and training, until he had been informed of a requirement as a liaison. Unexpectedly, his assignment, and friend, was Gang Hu. It was near impossible not to like and respect the fellow. Silent, neutral, damn near impossible to read his emotions or tell what he was thinking.
An enigma as well, in the past year, he recalled seeing him truly smile only twice, both times around Anya. He was a surpassingly warm person, when he wasn't aloof, Idimmu wryly noted. Everyone knew it, except Gang Hu. He treated everyone around him, no matter their position or appointment, with dignity and respect. It was no wonder that a lot of the employees of the nightclub liked him. It a way, he was like a Buddha, untouched by the chaos around him, merely flowing through it. But then again, was that a mask, or was that the authentic Gang Hu? Sophia said yes, but Idimmu suspected differently.
He preferred the Chinese name of his friend; Unyielding Tiger, Gang Hu. Tonight, they were to meet the one that was deemed so important on this first mission together. Sophia had briefed him on her. Raven, daughter of Trigon of the Scathekin and Angela Roth, now known as Arella.
The resources and contingencies dedicated to her protection were exceptional. Sophia had rated her life and safety as a greater priority than even her own, telling him that killing was permissible by him in her defence, if the situation demanded it. It was telling that Gang Hu was assigned to her ability.
And Sophia was never the one to demand death or violence, unless for good reason.
However, what shocked Idimmu more than anything was her assignment of Black Dragon Marine Elites to her protection, as well as Gang Hu. He had seen the Black Dragon Marines in action, and they were bad enough. Their Elites were a league above. Somewhere in the city was a force of people more than capable of taking out even the Black Tiger, and for that matter, a large part of the criminal underworld should they be ordered to do so.
Just then, he heard the roar of the motorbike below, from his room on the third level. He smiled. Anya was back.
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If there was possibly one being in this universe with the power to dominate and bend the Black Tiger to their will, it was Anya. Behind, he trudged up the stairs, carrying her bag, his face neutral and passive as usual, though anyone with experience might have thought they saw the ghost of a smile on his face.
Sighting Idimmu, she ran up to him and hugged him, staggering him as he absorbed her weight, his legs silently whirring and the adaptive motors increasing their output.
"Little Djádja (Little Uncle)! How was your day? What did you do? Did Az kick your asses again? Is there any work? Can I…."
"Slow down Anya. Yes, my day was good. Yes, your father kicked our arses again, and yes, I have work for you. Take the dogs for a walk. If you need help, ask Kang, or Rahesh. They're probably on the X-Box. And after that, you can go down to the kitchen and help Arrio with the sushi.
"Sure thing djádja!"
Quick as a flash, she left the two men alone, leaping up the stairs as she headed to the games room.
With that settled, Idimmu turned his attention to Aziz. Briefly, he thought he saw Aziz give him a baleful glare, but dismissed it as a trick of the light. But then again, with someone like him, you never knew. Sophia Mendes was a cautious woman, and always had contingencies, even for dealing with her brother.
"Gang, we need to get to the dockyards soon. Your Titans are probably on the way there by now. So, what's your loadout for tonight? Your usual gear?
"Yes, but…"
Their conversation was interrupted by the screams of the mock terror that emanated from the living room, as two large Pakistani Mastiffs slammed into Anya, greeting their mistress in an assault of shock, awe and drool, spittle flying in a great geyser as they leapt upon her, licking away at her face.
In addition, a large Alsatian and two Rhodesian Ridgebacks added to the assault, tumbling over each other in their eagerness to greet their young mistress. In the melee, the five dogs rapidly overpowered the young girl, before a sharp command barked by Aziz caused them to turn their attention to him, mobbing him in a flurry of flying fur and drool. In an even tone, he sharply commanded them to sit, which they did, the discipline an indication of the ranking within the perceived pack. All of them knew who the alpha was.
"Yes, the usual. As for your guns, bring a single magazine of live rounds, just in case. The Titans have a strict no-kill policy."
Idimmu nodded, but in the back of his mind, his thoughts were darker. Will that rule even stop you Gang Hu? You're a killer. Like Kassim said, and he's the closest thing you have to a best friend. Karas'Thy Raksa. I know about Russia. You kill out of love. You kill out of duty. My friend, even I've been ordered to watch you. As strong and tough as you are, you are the loneliest and the most pitiful of all Gang Hu, because, you're the demon that know's no love…
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Deathstroke waited in the shadows of the warehouse, uncomfortable with the vulnerability of the position. Open and exposed to attack, his years as a mercenary, before adopting his masked identity, had ingrained into him an aversion to vulnerable spaces. He had taken necessary steps to rectify that, with hidden duplicates of himself scattered throughout the dock.
Hiding in the various niches available, and even underwater, the rest of his older model robots awaited. Once top of the line, he had upgraded them with plastic explosives to serve as self-destruct mechanism, should they be disabled. They were obsolete trash, given how the Titans had made simple work of all of them.
Similarly, their cost effectiveness was in doubt, given the cost to maintain them, the rarity of their parts, and the wear and tear they went through, simply trying to carry out his tasks. Perhaps he would switch to more cost effective human personnel. Military experience had taught him one thing over the years; Machines will break, people don't.
Of course, the statement was not entirely true, but in the long-term, the use of humans was more cost-effective, until technology allowed him to field his mechanical minions more effectively. In all, a grand total of 119 units had been salvaged from his caches throughout Jump City. Personally, he felt that relocating his main operations centre to a different city was required. Perhaps Sau Paulo in Brazil was an option. A ready market, with the right mix of poverty and crime. Those were always profitable.
Waiting in shadows, he noticed the ship coming to dock at Pier 9, Warehouse 7, East Docks. Flying a French flag, it was called Le Enfant Terrible, coming in from Bogota, the capital of Colombia. A container ship of carrying mostly imported cars and foodstuffs, what did set it apart was that there was one container of 'frozen pork' onboard. He had been told to meet a contact here, in preparation for receiving it, as well as its transport to one of Slade's personal warehouses on the outskirts of the city. He had been told to meet Ascanio Rosa, his physical description simply provided by an informant as 'menacing', and a single blurry photo.
Methodically and efficiently, the stevedores attended to their duties, offloading the cargo the container vessel, while a Customs officer supervised them, checking through the list. The container with the package was waved through, the customs controller jotting its number down. Slade knew at once that this was the man who'd been bribed. It would precede as usual, the container mysteriously being sent to another country due to a 'clerical error' on the part of the controller.
In reality, he would attend personally to its transport. Slade was an amoral profiteer, cared only for the revenue he could gain.. However, he knew better than to betray an organisation as powerful as the Ahriman Society, even though he knew that many of the Gotham cartels would pay top dollar for these drugs, over and above what he was paying to the Ahriman Society to be included as a facilitator. He was canny enough to realised that the shipment was a test of him, besides being an initial foray into a new market for them.
As a venture partner, for a limited time and to a limited extent, their resources and protection extended to include him. And this was protection, though he was loath to admit it, that he desperately needed. The recent debacles, and the infrastructure destroyed during the vendetta with the Titans, had done much to cripple his operations in Jump City. While he disliked dealing in illicit drugs, it had extremely high profit margins, and he would have to build up some decent reserves before returning to his older business of contract killing services and weapon sales.
Leaning against the wall, he rubbed his hand across the metal container, before punching at the concrete wall, leaving an indentation. His patience was beginning to wear thin.
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Moving with a liquid grace, the Black Tiger landed on the rooftop of the main office block of the dock. The blue and white Titans jeep parked in the compoint told him the Titans were already there. On the nearby roof, 2 jetbikes sat together, one midnight blue, the other inky black with stripes of vermillion, streamlined and deadly. Powered by a cold fusion power plant and propelled by a laser ramjet that superheated the air, the engine was capable of heating air and water, making the jetbike capable of aquatic travel or aerial flight.
To the left was Idimmu, his breath visible as mist in the cool night air. Given the Mediterranean climate of California, winters were mild, cool and wet. Tonight was no exception, the wind chill reducing the temperature further. Weather forecasts predicted slight subzero temperatures. Not a night to swim.
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The Titans landed on the roof, Raven levitating Cyborg, while Starfire lifted Robin, Beast Boy reverting from his pterosaur form.
Robin regarded the Black Tiger, before noticing the other person in the background. Dressed in urban military gear, he was wearing a raid vest, with elbow and knee guards; face obscured by a wraparound mirrorshades and bandana, carrying a HK 416 assault rifle.
A pair of goggles hung around his neck, attached by a leather tether. Tactical webbing with several pouches was attached to a load-bearing vest or LBV in military nomenclature, with knee and elbow pads a matte black. His uniform fabrics shifted in colour, shifting to match the background, while a black cotton mesh shirt served as a vest, insulated his body core and absorbed sweat.
"Who is he?" Robin asked warily. Aziz had mentioned another person in a note, but had given no further explanation, having left in a hurry.
"Idimmu."
Idimmu nodded, acknowledging them.
"Idimmu, the Titans."
Idimmu stuck his hand out in offer of a handshake to Robin, who gingerly reached out to him.
"Which one is the Lady Raven?" rasped Idimmu.
"Me."
Idimmu appraised her, looking at her up and down, before silently giving her his respect, bowing at the hips and putting his hand to his heart. Raven remained motionless, acknowledging him with the slight nod of her head. She knew of no other way to react. She would find out their agenda, one way or another.
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The Black Tiger moved on the rooftops, parallel to Raven, her shadow visible to him. Idimmu was nowhere to be seen, shadowing her, his thermoptic camouflage concealing him from visual or thermal detection. Wisely, they had chosen not to mention that to Raven. They had obliquely referred to him following her, mentioning his proximity to her.
As per his request, and in an effort to keep an eye on him, the Titans had assigned him a route parallel to Raven. He jogged over the warehouses, his footsteps muffled by latex polymer boot soles. Moving like oil over water, his sounds were silent and muffled.
He scented the air, taking in the odours around him. Stale air, the scent of nicotine and cheap perfume. Brief murmurs from below told him of a card game happening in the storeroom of the warehouse below him. Senses honed to the human limit and beyond remained alert for any threat.
Just then, he heard the whir of motors at the edge of his hearing, the tang of petroleum-based lubricants wafting from multiple directions.
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Multiple units activated as they detected a threat from their files. An alpha-level threat approached. The imperative was to intercept, capture if practical, but otherwise, they were to disable or destroy the threat.
The targets designation: Raven. Daughter of Trigon, she was a powerful empath, with portal creation and extensive psychokinetic abilities. A skilled magic user, she used a chant to focus and summon her powers. Given her classification as the most powerful of the Titans, she was their first priority. The prime strategy was to disable her vocal abilities. If practical ,cripple and disable, capture to use as a hostage. If not practical, employ lethal measures.
Another presence was also detected; a normal human. Slight anomalies were detected, but the biometric data did not match Richard Grayson. It was a human male of adolescent age. Unknown classification, but a threat was not expected. The subject exhibited above-average mobility skills. Observe and engage if necessary.
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Ascanio Rosa walked down the gangway, his large frame filling up the width of it. At 2.14 metres tall and a hefty 170 kg, all of it muscle mass and bone, he was a fine honed machine, with a mind the equal of any Harvard postgraduate and with a strength and skill great enough to hold his own against even the brute Bane.
A liaison and one of the few unaugmented humans to be a personal bodyguard to the Lord Imperial Derman Ugorj of the Ahriman Society, he accompanied Cyrus Creed, an Adept of the Third Circle of Ahriman and CEO of Creed Pharmaceuticals, who was currently hidden behind a mask, his form obscured by a holographic disrupter, causing dizzying swirls of colour to bend around him, obscuring his form. He was their main contact in California.
Around them, the four Baghatur Companion Honour Guards of the Ahriman Society formed a box around them, menacing hulks with features concealed by the high collars of the trench coats they were wearing. An aura of fear radiated outwards from them, the shifting beneath their trench coats indicative of concealed weapons. Their deployment as attaches to Ascanio Rosa spoke of the trust which the Lord Imperial held in his bodyguard.
With skills honed by instructors of outstanding calibre, such as Alpha, Bronze Tiger, Constantine Drakon, Merlyn and the legendary Professor Ebeneezer Darrk, onetime chief of the League of Assassins, and bodies honed through constant, brutal training in the wilds of Africa and North Korea as well as heavy chemical augmentation to enhance their muscle efficiency and stamina, they were killing machines of great sophistication, and highly valued.
Themselves of high calibre, they trained their own as their instructors had trained them, each successive regimen even more inhuman than the last, until they were perhaps among the best fighters on the planet, whether armed or unarmed, elite killers, whether with weapon or bare hands, whether with poison or traps, they were undisputed masters of the art.
The 20 Ahriman Alip Guard formed a larger square around them, spread out in a staggered line on all four sides. Extremely competent and professional, with a fanatical loyalty to the Ahriman Society, they were the superior of any conventional military, each individual trained to the standard of the famed US Navy Seals.
Loyal and disciplined, they were further enhanced with bone grafts of depleted promethium-titanium alloy to their bones and chemical augmentations that tripled their reaction speed and increased their overall muscle mass. Equipped with the most sophisticated conventional weapons and equipment, they were a force to reckon with.
Spreading out into the darkness, they moved silently, their movements sinuous and stealthy, the fabrics of their clothing blending with the colours of the background. In a few seconds, they disappeared against the grey concrete, leaving the main delegation to meet Deathstroke.
Surrounding the area were additional androids of the Baghatur Fedayeen, merciless killing machines linked to a single processor. Of a standard far superior to Slade's robot duplicates, they were capable of adapting and analysing while on the go, adapting to the tactical situation with each second, learning from their enemies.
Lightweight titanium alloy chassis of tremendous strength flexed and moved, thick ceramic foam insulating the androids and protecting the AI core of the units. Programmed with multiple fighting techniques gleaned from David Cain and the Bronze Tiger, and armed with acoustic, tactile and visual sensors and a powerful sonic emitter and boron-hydrogen fusion plasma cannon, they were representative of the quality of technology, engineering and industrial capacity that the Ahriman Society commanded.
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"Welcome to Jump City. My name is Wilson Slade, but you may call me Deathstroke." Smooth tones belied a sinister aspect.
Ascanio towered over him, his eyes like pits of hell as he glanced down to meet the gaze of Wilson Slade. Each pair searched the other, looking for weakness. When Ascanio was satisfied, he looked back to his honour guard, one of whom carried a briefcase. Coming forward, he methodically opened it, revealing a glimpse of several financial statements, listing accounts and banks scattered throughout South American and Europe. Turning to look at Deathstroke, whom he towered over, he reached out to shake his hand, a handshake Deathstroke gladly returned.
"We've set up several accounts for you to deposit the money. They are listed here. You will have until tomorrow to memorise the notes, before they self-destruct. They are written on paper with an ink fixed to decompose after a set time, and can't be copied. Assuming the best, we calculate an income of 1 billion from this shipment alone. After this, we intend to shift to weapons trading. Are you acceptable to the terms?"
Deathstroke stepped backward slightly, in shock from mention of the money involved. Given the usual purity and grade of heroin, he had calculated it to be in the realm of perhaps 200 million dollars. The fact that more than a billion dollars worth of pure heroin of extremely high grade had just slipped through the security systems of 6 different countries did not escape him.
Just then, an explosion of blue light lit the sky, as the robots seeded by Slade throughout the dock attacked the incoming Titans. In the background, the sudden wail of police sirens sounded.
Without missing a beat, the entire Ahriman contingent retreated towards the cargo ship, the withdrawal done with the ease of experienced veterans. They would board their submarine, hovering in place below the cargo ship, before slipping through the coastal screen off the Western Seaboard, heading for the open oceans.
"Well, are you coming?" the distorted figure of Cyrus Creed asked Deathstroke. Calm indifference spoke of tremendous non-concern for the actions of the police. Slowly, he walked back towards the ship as the sirens increased in volume.
Looking at the explosions in the distance, Deathstroke shook his head. As Cyrus turned to follow his associate in retreat, Deathstroke made for his own escape route, already planned for, as he lifted a manhole cover and slipped into the sewer system of Jump City.
So his sources had been right. The police had somehow received an anonymous tip that a drug shipment was coming in tonight, and they had entered the scene. However, they were heading to the wrong dock.
Meanwhile, the Fedayeen androids reacted of their own volition, a fifth of their number coordinating to provide a distraction, while the remainder returned to base. In all, 23 androids bounded away to where the bulk of Slade's androids were known to be.
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Robin and Starfire had conducted a pincer movement, moving along the waterline of the docks, intent on sneaking up on where Deathstroke was supposed to be, when out of nowhere, multiple robots mobbed him and Starfire. They had only moved out when Robin had been assured that Idimmu would only use rubber bullets. It had cost them 5 minutes, as Idimmu argued over keeping his single clip of live ammunition, which Robin Beast Boy currently had in his possession.
Moving along, they were ambushed from all directions as over 60 units moved from cover, pelting them with a rain of plasma bolts.
Temporarily overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the mob, as they pelted him and Starfire with concussive plasma, they had retreated into the maze of warehouses that made up the docks.
Setting traps, they fell back to join BB and Cyborg, who had the fortune of taking the central route, which also happened to be narrower, and where the mass numbers of the robots would be to their advantage, the numbers clogging them up in the narrow streets.
However, what worried both of them was the fact that the greatest number of explosions was coming from the region which Raven had taken, accompanied by Aziz. As police cars arrived to reinforce them, Cyborg sent a blast flying in the direction of the robots, blasting one through a wall, while Robin let out a cloud of pellet bombs, the air in front of him exploding in a fury of smoke and shrapnel.
For now, they would have to look after themselves.
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Raven breathed heavily as the androids mobbed her, her telekinetic shields crushing them against the walls of the enclosed space. She had phased through the wall of the warehouse when the droids had first attacked, mobbing her in a frenzy of deflected blows and rapid shots from their plasma blasters.
A rapidly summoned shield bore the full brunt of a blast as a damaged robot self-destructed close to her, propelling her through the air and slamming her through glass, the shards cutting her across the face and her exposed arms and legs.
As she tried to sit up, winded, a sudden haze formed in the air in front of her, as the silent stranger, Idimmu, suddenly appeared in front of her, his assault rifle pointed straight at the oncoming mob, his body shielding her.
"Lady Raven, Run!"
Without a strangled growl, he launched himself at the mob, his rifle on full auto. The roar of the rifle drowned out the whine of the plasma cannons temporarily, before a sound like rain hitting zinc echoed through the space, as the rubber bullets dropped uselessly of their armour skins.
Dropping his rifle, Idimmu drew his pistols, custom-modified Desert Eagles with daggers fixed to their barrels. One always planned for contingencies.
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Idimmu cursed as he slammed his pistol into the head of a droid, crushing the circuitry. He turned and slashed with his bayonet, the monomolecular edge cutting through steel and wire.
He stomped down with his feet, the cybernetic legs cracking through the metal skin of the downed droid, disabling it. The next one came on, and then the next, engaging him and Lady Raven. He had placed himself in a shielding position, to allow her a route of escape.
Just then, his chamber gave a click as his last round. In a smooth movement, he holstered them, before bringing his fists up in a fighting stance, feet shifting back and forth in a shuffle.
Hitting out with his elbows and fists, hardened bone and sinew met metal, denting it and drawing blood from his lacerated knuckles. With a hiss, he activated his pain nullifier, sending a mental pulse to the device implanted at the base of his skull..
Throughout his body, adrenaline coursed, as chemical nullifiers raced throughout his body, disrupting sodium ion channels, deadening the pain he felt from the countless lacerations and blows to his body.
Flipping back, he drew a distance between himself and the droids, lashing out with his deadly feet, a flurry of lightning crescent kicks and thundering roundhouses cracking the fracturing the metal limbs in the melee. A droid drew close, before it went flying, a reverse throw sending it barrelling into two more.
Just as suddenly, he realised with mounting horror that Raven had chosen to stay and fight, as he spotted her out of the corner of his eye. A second's distraction allowed a droid to unleash a blast point blank into his body core. Ceramic plate and cloth sizzling, a jumping roundhouse cracked its shell while a hooked kick tore of its head.
Kicking and lashing with his limbs, Idimmu fought to clear a space to Raven.
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The Black Tiger swung his sabre staff in a violent arc, bisecting the droid, before impaling another one. Holding his sabre staff in one hand, he held a katana in the other, the nanotech blades glowed a brilliant blue as the nanomachines of the sword vibrated, causing the carbon molecules of the edges to move in a chainsaw-like motion.
He dodged, before lashing out his feet, decapitating a droid and fracturing the arm of another. His face inert beneath the visor, he elbowed another, ignoring the pain, before he shut down the nerves. He adjusted his heartbeat to higher levels, letting adrenaline and endorphins flood his body.
The droids were a minor nuisance, an inconvenience to his main goal of getting to Raven. She was his main priority, nothing more. Just then, a flash of alarm crossed his mind, as several streamlined droids unlike the others he had encountered barrelled across adjacent rooftops, heading in the direction of Raven. It was then, that he heard a cry for help over his radio connection with Idimmu, before a distant explosion brought his attention to the mob of droids heading for a ruined warehouse. Alarm flashed across his mind, before he suppressed it and made a running leap, heading for the site at top speed.
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The Fedayeen droids linked into the network of the Slade-bots, downloading information about the threats they faced. As they bounded into the scene, they assessed their options, calculated their chances of success and shifted to combat readiness.
A human male in his mid 20's, of Asian descent, according to biometric readings, with cybernetic limbs, was engaged in melee combat with a significant number of droids. A fragile female human, suffering from lacerations and blood loss, with anomalous physiology, was using unseen and anomalous phenomena to move the Slade-bots in destructive ways. Similarly, anomalous phenomena seemed to shield her, visible as a black screen of force.
As they unleashed their acoustic cannons, the plasma cannons deemed 'overkill' due to the possibility of self destruction of the unit's themselves, a sudden assault to their rear threw them into momentary shock. 6 of their number had just been taken down in a quarter of a second.
Reorienting, they lost another 4, bringing their number to 13. A human male, moving with incredible speed, was tearing into them in a frenzy of bloodlust. Extruding blades from their feet, knees, hips, elbows and hands, they shifted to close combat mode, encircling the new enemy. Scans had shown a movement speed of 106 metres/second, or approximately 360 km/h.
A droid managed to block one blow, before a second, more powerful blow ripped through its processing core. A sudden jab and twist removed the power plant of another. Parrying a blow, a unit managed to drive a blade into the human male, the blade breaking upon contact with the armour skin. The human had slowed down slightly, physiological scans indicating a shift in biochemistry, before a renewed burst of speed.
Moving faster than any human should, the male twisted in midair before thrust kicking another droid, sending it crashing into the ground. The vector of the male was towards the injured female.
The female was an alpha-level threat, according to the Slade-bots. Given their lack of numbers due to the defence provided by the cyborg, and the sudden threat that had earned itself a beta-rating, a strategic victory could still be gained before annihilation of their grouping. Recordings of the human male would be sent back to the main processor for evaluation.
Evaluating their actions, the Fedayeen bots decided on a single course of action. As their remaining numbers were hacked apart, they overrode the Slade-bots, ordering a self-destruct. Simultaneously turning, they piled onto the alpha-level threat, shielded behind what was known to be psychokinetic force screens, they overwhelmed her, successive explosions and point blank blasts from the boron fusion guns resulted in self-destruction and slagging of the electronics due to intense radiation and heat. Extruded blades cut open a major artery along her thigh and arm, both on her right side.
Grappling her, given her propensity to phase, one unit held her. Twisting a steel beam around her, it threw her into the water, intent on drowning the girl. Preliminary analysis of injuries told of a high possibility of death, given the severed arteries and resulting blood loss. Given her unconscious state, she would ingest water into her lungs and proceed to drown, fulfilling the requirement of a victory.
Given that was resolved, they turned the attention to the remaining two people.
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A shotgun blast blew open the chest cavity of the Slade-bot, before a birdarang sliced through a line of robots, crippling their mobility system. Starfire barrelled into them, her starbolts incinerating sensitive elctronics and scrambling sensors
In a few seconds, it was over. The police gunned down the remaining few droids, before assessing the situation.
Just as they breathed a sigh of relief, a loud explosion from the warehouse which was Raven's last location rocked them, causing them to stagger and cracking the glass windows of the surrounding warehouses.
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Aziz and Idimmu were back to back, the blades slashing in glittering arcs as fought their way through the new droids, a league above the Slade-bots that Idimmu had just smashed.
Suddenly, two intact droids appeared in front of Idimmu, their boron fusion guns raised in preparation. Swift as a cobra, Aziz threw himself in front of Idimmu, his forearms closed together.
The resulting explosion threw the men back through a concrete wall, while the robots were bisected in half as a thrown sword cut through their processing cores and sliced open a reactor. The resulting explosion of the anti-matter within it flattened the area around them, destroying the remaining robots in a flash of atomic fire.
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The Black Tiger reeled, a copper taste filling his mouth as he rose. The armour plating in his suit had absorbed the shrapnel and heat, while thermokinetic gel had helped to reduce the shock, absorbing the kinetic energy of the blast and the heat. The plates of X-Ionized depleted promethium had resisted the heat of the blast, while the Ruldaman bracers had absorbed and deflected much of the blast, which would have killed them. Gel leaked from several gashes in his armour, while the diamond mesh that covered his throat was melted and scorched in several places. Kevlar and Dyneema fabrics had brunt away, leaving bare patches of red and blotchy skin. His helmet was cracked and damaged, but otherwise its internal components had saved his hearing. The acoustic sensors had prevented his eardrums from bursting, but there was slight bleeding from his ear canals.
Two compound fractures of his ribs, lacerations along his neck, a deep gash on his hand. They would require stitches, possibly. A cut lip. Forearms and shins were unharmed, due to the Ruldaman crystal armour on them. His hair was singed. 2nd degree burns along the length of his shoulders and parts of his neck and chest. Left shoulder dislocated.
Standing and imposing order on his body, he refused to let it sway, fighting the sensation and shutting off the pain, reducing it to a minor buzz at the back of his mind, to remind himself to treat it. Walking steadily towards Idimmu, who stood in an exposed pipe, he helped him up, his raid vest torn and tattered, his entire body covered in dust. Scorch marks told of multiple plasma hits, while bubbling plates of armour told of a point blank shot glancing of the left oblique. Aziz chose not to comment on the smell that wafted from him.
"Where is Lady Raven?" was the first question from Idimmu's mouth. Idimmu had been better off , having been thrown through the wall into a sewer pipe, which was now virtually drained, the water flow and steam from the explosion acting to shield him from the brunt of it.
Aziz looked at him, before the image of Raven bound with steel cable and thrown into the sea flashed across his mind. Without a moment's hesitation, all his injuries forgotten, he turned and ran, boots slamming through debris as he pounded across the broken ruins and dove into the sea.
