Chapter 21
The Training Begins…
A/N: 21 & 22 were originally one large chapter, but I was advised to split the chapters. Anyway,21 & 22 were co-authored by me and Corvus Corvidae who is in my favourites list.Go and read his stories.Damn funny.22 is more or less a story by Corvus with me being the beta, a role reversal.Enjoy...
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Cyborg sat down with the others. Although he was by nature discrete, he couldn't help but let his eyes give Terra the once-over. She'd changed greatly, filled out in more ways than one. It was quite obvious why BB was attracted to her, and she to him. She found him funny, he found her vivacious and energetic, able to keep up with him, and humor strengthened and lengthened the life of a relationship. Why else was it common demand among women for their men to have a sense of humor?
Az was standing passively in the background, observing and watching. It is said that the normal human mind has seven memory registers; Aziz had at least this many streams of consciousness. Even so, what was running through them at that moment wasn't too complicated, although it was confidential.
She was in my dreams, the vision of that future. She…is the mother of Garfield's children…his future wife…a princess. Garfield will have a happy future. He deserves it; after all they've gone through. All of them do. However…I should not be getting too close to them. I am fond of them, no doubt, but when I die, and I willdie, things will change; things beyond my control.
His internal monologue ceased as he looked at the time and realized that he was using up his margin far too much for comfort.Just then, he heard BB mention something about growing up, how he was looking forwards to finally being legal for many things. Of course, among those things were sex, but since when did the law stop adolescents from engaging in it? From there, it kind of went on a tangent to how they wanted to be as adults.
Seeking to end it quickly, he interjected with some sage advice that Terra would herself impart to her own children; "When you're young, you can only see ahead, but you should look around and see what kind of adults become happy and what kind of adults end up becoming unhappy."
With a hurried goodbye, the trio loaded onto the jetbike and jetted off towards a meeting that had been planned long in advance. It was a meeting that would slowly but surely transform the two Titans at a mental and physical level, whether they knew it or not. 'Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis.' – 'The times change, and we must change with the times.'
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"Alright, class dismissed. We'll begin early on Wednesday night." Sao Feng watched as the young girls and boys filtered out, picking up their bags as they left.
These kids… they have plenty of spirit, but no discipline.
He'd just finished the morning class for teenagers, while his cousins had handled the adult classes and his assistant coaches Casimir, Damon "The Nip" Kazuaki and Iskandar Tian Wen managed the classes for children.
They'd recently changed the name of the academy to the Dalibor Fight School. Formerly the Buaya's Tooth Academy, they'd recently renamed it to the simpler Dalibor Fight School, a name derived from Slavic elements; dal meaning "far away" and borit meaning "to fight".
Sao was compact, layered with muscle, a man in his mid thirties, tanned and olive skinned. His cousins were Shoah and Steve, their mothers having all been sisters.
Shoah was the most mixed of the lot, having had a paternal grandmother who was a Slavic Jew with Bosnian ancestry. Steve Jap was brown like a seal, and could pass for being a Thai, Indonesian, Mexican, Nepali or otherwise. He was shortest of the trio but solidly built, strong as an elephant and built like a Scorpion tank, while Shoah was lean like a wolf and streamlined like an orca, the only natural predator of the great white shark.
They'd taken to closing the gym earlier than expected, in preparation for teaching a special class. All of them were indebted to Aziz, their loyalty and lives bought with the blood he had shed for them, when he had saved their lives at various points in time, or in the case of Steve, had restored his body from a crippling injury, restoring his ability to walk and function like any normal man. Sao Feng owed the lives of his children, wife and parents to him. Shoah owed the life of his mother and, indeed, his own to Aziz.
All friends of his, they had met him and been exposed to events no normal person would have otherwise experienced; to secrets that now defined their lives. They shared with him an ideal, a cause, for the greater good. They had seen how the world could be remade, and their choices had been made, just like Idimmu and Kassim before them.
Privately, Sao Feng sometimes wondered whether he'd made the right choice.
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Sao Feng had served in the British Royal Marines in Kosovo, Sierra Leone and Afghanistan before resigning from the service. In Kosovo he ended up owing his life to the person he now knew to be the Black Tiger. Looking to be in his 20s then, Sao Feng had thought him to be a Serb rebel, only to find him responsible for the slaughter of entire companies of Serbs and Kosovars alike.
He'd come to be known as the Ghost of Kosovo, Wendigo, Gees, B'es and many other names by the UN and NATO peacekeepers assigned there, a lone revenant disappearing into the darkness of the remote mountains.
Entire companies of Serbs and Kosovar Albanian soldiers had cowered in fear of a revenant, exacting vengeance on both sides.
The Finnish soldiers had called it 'Riivattu', or one controlled by evil spirits. The Royal Marines had taken to calling it 'Rakshas', a name drawn from the Telugu and Marathi languages of India. The Germans had called him 'Teufel' and the Croats 'Vrag'. All essentially meant the same thing; Devil.
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[6 April 1999
The stale air of the complex filled his senses. His platoon searched the complex for any surviving Serbs. In the aftermath of the arrival of NATO troops in the region, reports had come in of a centre where countless Kosovar Albanian women had been systematically raped by Serb troops. It was part of the 'ethnic cleansing' efforts led by rogue officers of the Serbian military.
It was a directed effort on the part of the Serbs to dilute the ethnic purity of the Albanians, to break their spirit and create a generation of children who would always remind their mothers of the brutality they had suffered.
Of course, with NATO in the country, revenge attacks and atrocities were being committed by both sides; peacekeepers were stretched thin trying to prevent either from attacking the other. Personally, Sao Feng would rather have just executed most of the Serbs on sight and left it at that.
The stories he'd heard and the mass graves encountered had left him and his men with a bitter taste. If not for the Geneva Convention, they would have summarily executed most of the Serb officials they had captured
At the edge of his hearing, he heard a whimpering sound coming from a shuttered warehouse, and they went to investigate. What they found within horrified them. All that he had witnessed along the way towards the camps, all the reports, all the photographs, the mass graves, had not prepared him for the visceral reality.
The smell of semen, urine, blood and excrement met his senses, as he saw a girl, dressed in rags, bound to chains in the floor, groveling and retreating before him. Deeper inside, another woman, blonde hair matted with urine and shit lay dead, her bones showing through the skin, as did the lesions and scars that covered her body.
Some of his platoon broke down, while the rest grew visibly agitated. Even the warrant officer assigned to them, a lifer who'd served since the 1980's as an NCO in the Falklands Conflict, was visibly disturbed. A career military man who was normally good at hiding his emotions, his control failed him as his hand visibly trembled. He had a daughter about the same age as most of the victims in the camp.
Sao Feng continued on with his runner and a few volunteers, rifles at the ready as they proceeded. It was then that he found the perpetrators of the atrocity.
Many were flayed, their skin hanging like ribbons of pink, a macabre scene as they fluttered in the breeze. The slow dripping of blood, from multiple orifices, violated by the very instruments they had used, added an undertone, a grisly melody beneath the scene.
Some had even been strangled with their own intestines, while others had their ribs forced open, bones cracked beneath raw strength. Their hearts were hanging around their necks, ventricles twisted in knots.
Sao Feng backed away slowly, eyes wide, the trembling turned into violent tremors. He collided with a body as he stumbled backwards, turning to meet its face, eyes gouged from their sockets and replaced with writhing maggots. Then, ever so slowly, its mouth cracked open in a low moan.
It was then that the section withdrew. As far as they were concerned, the case was closed. The Wendigo had been through here.
Later, one of the few survivors, a man who'd gone insane form witnessing the horrors done to his comrades, had killed himself. All they had gotten out of him was a garbled message of a grey-eyed devil…
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I…am…ShafaqThe blood…of a million warriors flows in me, from the blood of ancient Sparta, of noble Persia, of Imperial Rome, of the nomad Jews, of the Israelis and Arabs, the Zulu, the Sioux, Imperial China, the samurai of ancient Japan, of the martial races of the British Raj… all humanity.
From all the peoples in my world I was descended, from the poorest pauper to the wealthiest aristocrat, from bloodthirsty murderers to the noblest philosopher-kings. From the furthest south of the world to the furthest north, from East to West and Centre, I am descended from all. Born for combat and bred for war, my home is the battlefield. My purpose… is your destruction.
I was the Janthril Warmaster, the greatest one who ever was and who ever will be, and you will not claim her
Urenor withdrew from the vision, the temporal nexus boiling and frothing, as he witnessed his father die. Elder brother to Sorentho Raksa Janthril and the Grand Janthril Matriarch, Ghanima Deva'Raksa Janthril, he was the first son, the eldest.
In all incarnations, in countless lives, he had followed his father's soul as a friend and companion. As the vagaries would have it, he ended up incarnating as his son. He found it somewhat comical, though not in any human sense.
Despite godhood, one could at least mimic the human template of thought, limited though it was. Yet sapient mortals liked to assign familiar qualities to their gods, to make them more understandable.
While they could be understood, only a fragment of that truth could be understood. This was the purpose of religion – to attempt an explanation of the universe, and explain a way to the truth. And the truth was a very malleable concept.
Human templates of thought, sapient templates of mental function were often woefully dependent upon clear paradigms, and thus conflict. Why else were so many conflicts fought?
Thus, by their choice, they maintained equilibrium. At the moment, the three siblings were gathered in location on the Earth that their father was on, for a simple conference.
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In a café in Paris, by the River Seine, they were in conference, their minds conjoined. In their human forms, they looked much like their respective parents. Urenor had the green eyes of his paternal grandmother. Soren had the blue-shifted violet grey eyes of both parents, and Ghanima the amber-gold eyes of her mother, a green-grey tint hinting at her parentage. To the outside world, it seemed like a meeting between three art students from the nearby Universite de Paris.
Urenor stared impassively at his sister. The Grand Matriarch, she was a being who wielded astounding power in the physical realm, economic, political, social, religious, spiritual, military and otherwise, in a million megaverses and beyond.
The Grand Matriarch was both the spiritual, political and economic leader of the Janthril Dynasty and assorted families, such as the ever so human Sahar family, distant cousins who were the epitomes of what humans as a society and individuals could be, in any number of ways. The Sahar could trace their descent from the Atreides family, complete with the genetics and wild talent that entailed, and were among the noble families linked to the Janthrils, by blood, spirit and honour.
Each Grand Matriarch inherited her power, knowledge, wisdom and position from their mother, for only Janthril women gained the full measure of that power, a power that was the sum total of each preceding generation. They were nurturers and destroyers, mother to their diverse peoples that looked upon them as goddesses, inviolate in their divinity, savage in the defense of their children and judicious in their leadership.
This one had inherited the ruthlessness of the father, as well as the power of both parents. For her enemies, as much as her allies and those who served her, that ruthlessness was the surest sign of her parentage.
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Urenor glanced at the group of buskers standing around in the shade and looking quite out of place. He favoured the Alash Covenant, a large pan-galactic empire that he had founded, and favoured using the troops as bodyguards, though he was quite capable of defending himself.
It was done on a whim, deciding in an instance to create a universe and bring in several sapient species under a single political entity, hence the Alash Covenant, Alash being the poetic name of Kazakhstan. Just for the sheer paradoxicality of it, he'd brought together infectious 'Flood', the Halo Forerunners, Necrons, Tyranids, Zerg, Protoss, Sangheili, Hiralhanae, Draenei, various derivative of elves, goblinoids, humanoids, artificial life forms, as well as a whole menagerie of ecospheres and biospheres into a single universe, with the appropriate physical laws to allow operation.
From universe to universe, physical laws and structure were different, with too large a difference being fatal at times, dependent on the being. Then again, many beings followed similar blueprints. Humans, for example, were a prolific species which followed a simple blueprint, courtesy of Khallusk. Of course, variants existed, but there was always a comparable baseline.
The resulting 'riot' had been incredible to say the least. Given that he was the focal point of worship of one form or another by several different species, he was enough to tenuously hold them together, as godhead and through occasional acts of divine force that utterly and totally destroyed the laws of physics and shattered worlds in the process.
He had been younger then, perhaps only a few hundred millennia, and he had been roundly reprimanded by his father for his callous disregard to the lower life forms. He hadn't understood then, but knew better now.
Being at the highest tier, he could understand and witness the systems in place, or lack thereof that supported supernatural deities or natural deities. For many deities, mortals were like the bacteria in the human gut. A few thousand dead did not matter, but where large numbers were affected - the effects could be felt by the god or otherwise godlike entity in question.
It was complex to explain, and even if he could explain, it was at times too simple and too complex. That came from having an origin coming from a parent who was existence, unexistence, void, shadow, light and many more rolled into one. Sometimes, actions spoke extremely silently compared to words.
The buskers were a group of Spartan-1 human augments, genetically augmented at the germline level, meaning that their augments were hereditary, with enhanced muscular density, stamina, senses, agility and retarded aging.
While not quite superhuman, they were at a threshold 25 beyond a baseline human Olympic athlete in terms of physical and physiological prowess, as far as medical science could determine. Essentially their bones were ossified to be harder and denser; their muscle tissue was enhanced to be denser and produce less lactic acid, increasing muscular strength and endurance while their eyes had undergone submergence and boosted blood vessel flow beneath the rods and cones of their retina. Meanwhile their neural dendrites had undergone chemical augmentation, vastly enhancing their reflexes.
Still, nowhere near as lethal as the Onraedi Sable Thorns that Sophia kept though.
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So, our dear parent is becoming a 'cradle-snatcher', as the humans term it. He's taking on with a female young enough to be his descendant over a million generations. I mean, she's 16 after all, and even in this adolescent physicality, he is chronologically with access to over a millennia of memories, even dormant and sealed.
# One cannot blame him, sister. He is after all reliving his adolescence in a sense. By your command, or perhaps request, I denied him his memories and weakened the seals. His reaction was typical. He sought to seal the power even further, and he is a borderline human. Even now, he ages at the same rate as the Raven Queen. #
Urenor remained silent, as he listened to a butterfly's heartbeat in Africa. Without so much as being conscious about it, he shifted a few amino acid sequences in the fetus in a womb somewhere in South America, gifting the individual with extreme luck at a genetic level. The reason was to em'self to know.
Urenor.
Yes, little sister?
Have you done what I have asked?
I think I speak for both of us, Soren and I, when we say that your actions are excessive and much too interfering. There is surely no need to push Onraed and Rugal Al-Ilham to such actions. Even by our perception, that is inflicting something on father unnecessarily. He has suffered enough. If the Raven Queen is involved, then perhaps, but do as you wish. We will neither aid you nor stop you. After all, at most, we will simply erase this universe and start over somewhere, but you know the consequences with father involved don't you little sister?
Very well. I'll perform the function myself. However, I am worried about the humans in particular, the ones in the 'second wave' employed by Azaluhaiz. They are wildcards, concealed from time and oracles by father's will. They…are intriguing. Perhaps they will not be like the others, whose fate is that of doom. For all who are within father's lay, their destiny is tied to his, and his he allows to be tied to the Raven.
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Kazuaki was a Sports Chanbara instructor, a free-style Japanese combat sport which originated from Kodachi Goshindo (Self-defense with short sword). It used the short sword (Kodachi), long sword (Choken) and other traditional Japanese weaponry, such as the dagger, spear (yari), halberd and long and short staff. As an armed combatant further trained in Kendo and Makila, he was a superb fighter that few dared to confront.
Many an inattentive student had learned to their misfortune that he did not take kindly to a lack of fighting spirit and honour in a fight. To complement this proficiency in his armed skill, he possessed a 2nd Dan Black Belt in Krav Maga and was an Aikido 4th Dan. Lean like a predator with catlike reflexes, many a female student had suffered hidden crushes and increased heart rates upon witnessing him in action. Unfortunately for them, he was taken.
In contrast to him was Tian Wen. Trained in MMA, Muay Thai, Lethwei, Keysi and AMOK, his personal fighting style was rather more confrontational and lacking the finesse of his counterpart. His strategy was to make a frontal assault with overwhelming force and break the opponent apart with elbows, knees, fists and whatever else was available, if they managed to survive the initial strike. He was generally more cunning than he was given credit for.
It was not that he couldn't plan or fight with finesse, which he was more than capable of. He simply liked to cut loose, in essence, go berserk. His style was adaptable but with one constant; sheer power and brutality, like a tsunami that broke upon all in its path. There was much to say for the merits of either. Of course, in tournament, like many others, his was more approaching that of a dance. He also happened to be a formally-trained dancer.
Aziz had something particular in mind for Robin, and specifically it involved Tian Wen. It seemed that for all his tactics he did not seem to have that killing edge, and he planned to introduce him to that. If one person could inculcate that in him, it was Tian.
Tian had once fought Az and won (on points), though in the process suffering a concussion and having to be stretchered to the nearest hospital. He'd never gotten to repeat that act. Still, a significant feat, though a 2nd victory (also by points) involved Damon, Tian and Sao assaulting him at the same time. Suffice to say, they had elected not to spar with him using Vale Tudo rules thereafter.
Kazuaki on the other hand was assigned to Raven as her weapons master. Aziz had many plans for Raven's education. He'd managed to requisition a former general under his command and a powerful sorceress the equal of Circe, Tara, to join him, though he held his reservations. She'd often pursued him as a breeding partner and lover, but all he had ever extended was friendship. With Tara, there was the possibility of… conflict.
His intent was simple; have Raven train and indirectly have a role model, an example of a leader who could take hard decisions. After all, that was what Tara excelled at.
Many do not distinguish between a leader and a ruler or commander, which is unfortunate because they are in fact very different. A leader, as the saying goes, 'knows the way, shows the way and goes the way', whereas a ruler would simply tell his or her subordinates to do it all by themselves. A leader is one of the group and understands their troubles, meaning that they are only slightly more than equal.
As such, a leader has to have foresight and a degree of ruthlessness to make hard decisions where necessary, instead of pandering to populist masses that may not have the 'big picture'. Then again, there was a thin line between being a tyrant and a leader who could make hard decisions…
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Raven stared hard at the emotions assembled before her, disquieted and quite lost as to what to do. So she had children in the future. It shouldn't really have been a surprise. Normal people found a partner, married and had children. All very normal and mundane… except for the fact that she was an abnormal human living anabnormal life, in a family unit that was certainly not normal, under daily circumstances that would not be imagined normal by any being in the universe that claimed itself to be normal.
No. My life is not normal.
Therein lay her biggest stumbling point. She was the half-demon daughter of a demon lord, allegedly prophesied to be some sort of saviour and messiah to the world, with a bodyguard who'd quietly waltzed into her life and whom she'd slept in the same bed with, and who was somewhat human but not quite. She had emotions that physically manifested and which in the past had given her much grief, and she had a volcanic temper, again courtesy of her blood.
So why did it disturb her so much with the revelation that she had children, especially a daughter with eyes so much like Robin's? It doesn't mean anything. It could be a recessive gene, or I could end up with some guy who has blue eyes or…
Knowledge interrupted her thoughts with a clearing of her throat. "Do you want to deal with Lust and Passion now?"
Raven looked up and nodded in confirmation. Already, a tic had developed in her forehead from annoyance. "Where are they?"
"With Rage."
'I might have known.'
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Joy giggled with glee as she read Knowledge's books along with Lust and Passion. Most disturbingly, even Rage was smiling, with a flushed expression on her face.
The minute Raven appeared, Joy launched herself at her. "Rae-rae, I always knew you had it in you." She giggled then turned back to reading her book. Absorbed as they were in it, Raven had to know what had even Rage looking like she did. Peeking over Joy's shoulder, the words that she read made her blood run cold.
Slowly, ever so exquisitely, Robin nibbled at her neck, licking and nipping the pulse point. Her heart raced, as she anticipated his actions. She felt his hardness through the cloth, ready to be sheathed in her temple of pleasure. She was prepared, on the verge of excruciation, to accept him into her, her inviolate temple of passion. Slowly, he moved down, licking the nectar of her womanhood from her legs in slow whirling patterns, as he…
With a shriek, she tore it from Joy's hands and incinerated it. To her horror, it reappeared, whole and untouched, in Passions's hands.
"You can't destroy something that exists in your dreams, my dearest girl. Besides, you should see the video action of that particular fantasy. You were certainly enjoying yourself. I mean, I certainly enjoyed it."
She spluttered, staring in abject horror as the foursome went back to perusing the book. Just then, Knowledge came up. Turning on her, she grabbed her by the shoulders and, in a restrained voice, spoke very slowly, emphasizing each and every word.
"Where. Did. Joy. Get. That. Book?" she demanded, the last word coming out as a choked snarl. Knowledge pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, her trademark reflex action, before escaping from Raven's grip.
"Raven, whatever dreams or memories you have, I store them all. I remember them. I'm Knowledge… you know. As for where she got it, well, I…lent it to her. She kept on pestering me so long that I just had to give her something to shut her up. Besides, it keeps Rage occupied and allows Courage to take a break and not always be on guard."
Rage interjected in a surprisingly pleasant tone; "Don't blame her, Raven. Given that you suppress me, hell, I need to pass the time, and with Aziz around I'm not showing myself, for a damn good reason. Besides, the ones I find most entertaining are the most recent ones of you and him. He may scare me, but he's…demonically hot. Look at him! And you should read this one. Heh. You'll really like this one, after all. It's one of your more recent dreams."
A scroll of parchment appeared before her, and the blue lettering, written in her hand, captured her eyes.
She was pulled flush against him, her breasts pressed against his chest. He growled lightly, ravishing her mouth and neck, treating her swollen lower lip like a delicacy, as he dipped his tongue within, to taste her. She reached out her own tongue in response but he stopped her, instead pulling on it with his tongue and rubbing her tongue tip with his own. She felt his movement within her, his blade sheathed within her womanhood.
A slight movement on his part angled in and sent arcs of atomic fire radiating through her, as he ground into her, making her g-spot rub against his manhood, the bud of her heavenly delight suffering a wonderful friction as it rubbed against his skin. Nestled in his arms, her legs wrapped around him, she screamed into his shoulder, biting down until she drew blood, and then, slowly, she began to drink…
Raven turned a look on Knowledge. Knowledge knew well of the Eye of Sauron, and Raven's gaze at this point reminded her implicitly of same. She opened her mouth, but all that came out was a pitiful whining noise as she struggled to come up with words. All stood in silence for a pregnant minute.
Raven laughed hysterically and walked away without so much as another word, intent on leaving the madness behind. She'd had quite enough for one day.
As they looked on, Knowledge was glad that they hadn't mentioned the ones involving Robin, Beast Boy and Aqualad. At the same time. Not to mention Terra, Starfire and Jinx… also at the same time.
Knowledge sometimes wondered why Raven had bothered personifying her emotions. If she had done it with the idea that it might make them easier to understand and control, then Raven's Knowledge was probably a lot closer to Stupidity.
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Cyborg went flying into the rubber-matted wall and collapsed in a heap on the floor below. Beast Boy joined him shortly after.
"Now tell me, what mistakes were made?" sounded the clear voice of Sao Feng, as he offered his hands to both.
"Um, we followed Aziz here?" replied BB, as he tried to lighten the situation.
"No…" said Sao, in the dangerous tones of one who has just thrown his students against a wall and can easily do it again.
"Yeah. What?" Cy was still stunned at being thrown by a man who was by all rights shorter and lighter than him. Even Robin couldn't throw him around like that, let alone lift his 300 kg bulk.
"Remember fighting Atlas? Well, all you did was to pit raw strength against raw strength. Damn foolish if you ask me. Before you criticize me, I'll tell you straight out, in case Az hasn't told you. Yeah, I served in the Royal Marines, and yeah, I don't really fight superhuman combatants like any of you guys, but I know a thing or two about fighting, and all you did was try and overpower him. To what end? You knew he was stronger and while you did triumph in the end, it was still a waste of energy, albeit an excellent display of fighting spirit."
Cyborg tried to come up with an answer, but couldn't. As he opened his mouth, trying to form words, Sao Feng stopped him.
"To your credit, you have fighting spirit, more than the average guy, and a hell of a lot more than some of the Marines I served with, given your exploits. You know how to fight, and I give credit where credit is due. What Aziz told me to teach you is simple; principles of fighting and some mental conditioning, so that you can fight instinctively and keep your cool at the same time when in hand to hand combat. You're a cyborg, so what I'll teach you are some basic moves. From the vids I've seen of your fights, you're often up against opponents who are at least as strong as you, so sometimes there's no point using strength against strength unless you're a crazy bastard like some people." At this, he gave a glance to Wen.
"Anyway, you were a former athlete from what I gather, so I'll teach you some MMA moves and groundfighting, like Brazilian Ju-jitsu or Judo. Basically, in a one-on-one fight, if you bring it to the ground and know what tactics to use, you can use an opponent's strength against him. Basically, we'll concentrate on takedowns and joint locks for you."
Sao Feng knew what Aziz was trying to teach them, to make them more cunning. He already had his hands full with other tasks, specifically with plans for the Raven Queen. Not that Sao knew of that. He simply chose loyalty. As much as he doubted him at times, that trust had never been misplaced. He was a man who kept his promises.
"As for you…" Sao Feng said as he turned to address BB, who waited raptly. Robin had taught him some basic moves, but if anything, Gar simply didn't have that drive, as well as the fact that he disliked having to actually hurt his opponents. He was more of a happy-go-lucky guy, easygoing and preferring to idle. He wasn't lazy when it came down to it, but as he had once told Terra; "I just try my hardest not to do anything."
With BB, Sao had a simple solution. It was a martial art that emphasized neutralizing ones attacker without harming them; aikido. Though the way it was taught by Damon, with inclusive Krav Maga techniques, made it a much more effective system that one would expect.
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"You want me to learn aikido?" came the incredulous reply as he talked to Damon.
"Mm-hm. Think about it; you can change into any animal. Imagine yourself as a gorilla."
"Uh… okay," said Garfield, wrapping his head around the concept.
"Now imagine yourself as a gorilla that knows aikido."
The image that came to Garfield's mind was so ridiculous that he couldn't help but chuckle. But as he looked back at Aziz, he stopped. The slight grin on his face was a predatory one, as if about to enjoy biting down on a piece of fresh meat.
"When do we start?" came BB's reply. His inflection, the intonation, surprised Aziz. He had been expecting resistance to the idea from Garfield, but the undertone of eagerness he heard was surprising, to say the least.
Aziz simply nodded before inclining his head to Damon. With a grin, Damon turned to face his newest pupil.
"There's no time like the present."
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As they left the cinema hand in hand, Robin and Starfire disguised through the liberal use of image inducers that projected a solid light hologram millimeters of their skin, concealing their identities, Starfire moved closer to him and nuzzled his cheek.
Instead of the usual rom-com, Starfire had decided to instead see a Thai horror movie called 'Alone', which involved Siamese twins. To say the least, Robin had a field day as Starfire had shrieked at all the right moments and jumped into his lap, even at the cheap scares. There had been several times where he'd quite literally had to hold her down, when she'd nearly given them away by leaping into the air in fright.
After having a few dates in costume Robin had wisely decided to go in disguise, given the fact that they were constantly mobbed by fans and paparazzi. Dressing in normal clothes could have worked. That is, if Starfire happened to look a little more human.
Things had finally come to a head when a paparazzo had interrupted a romantic and rather private moment between them. To say the least, they'd chosen to use image inducers to protect their identities thereafter.
As they exited the cinema, they suddenly heard the silence of the city as military jets roared overhead. Visible high in the sky, at the furthest edge of vision, was a single frigate of Gordanian design, bearing the emblem of Blackfire, the snarling head of a La'urak skull.
"Komand'r…" Starfire slowly whispered, as her eyes flared a furious green. In an instant, she had thrown herself into the air and with a roar, shot towards the cruiser, image inducer dropping its holographic guise in an instant. Robin retreated into an alley and deactivated his own, sending out a call to all Titans.
Robin wasn't quite sure, but he was willing to bet a substantial sum that Blackfire had some kind of uncanny knack for knowing when he and Starfire were trying to 'develop' their relationship.
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The gods have, since ancient times, created methods to test humans. The Presence, a being many know as Allah, or Yahweh, or even the Holy Trinity, or by countless names like Brahma, Shiva, are all simply emanations of a being that many mortals can only see a mere shard of. It has created…has designed…a system…it opposes all living creatures and splits the world. It condemns entities to roles.
The beings of Heaven pretend they can't see the suffering of the people, of mortal and physical immortal alike. Only the lucky few find the way. The pain of those beings reaches deep into my heart. I want to counter this discrimination and extend my aid. In order to do that, the only thing that can be done is to create a new system!
See... this is what God has wrought…why Lucifer Morningstar, reviled as Satan and Shaitan and the Great Adversary by so many, rebelled in the first place against his parent. I cannot allow such a system to continue! This is the will of my quarrel with Heaven. I would like you to come with me, to follow the path I tread. If I had your help, even the weak-of-heart could have their wishes fulfilled. So that everyone can be equal and devoid of suffering, I wish to reach out. Do you accept?
The Lord Imperial stared out at the assembled masses before him, of countless mortal species and those of supernatural origins, werewolves side by side with grigori and ancient beings originating from the very edges of the universe, multidimensional and pseudonatural creatures that dwelt beyond time itself and the regular planes of existence, living forever in a state of seeming insanity.
Slowly, on psionic and mental levels, a great buzzing began. It gradually changed into a deafening roar as the countless rulers of the disparate groupings applauded, for here was a being, an entity of power who could lead them to their rightful place, their manifest destiny as peers among mortals. Here was a being they could respect, who could command respect.
A being whose greatest weapon was the truth and the ability to deceive and lie, for one who could lie with the truth or tell the truth of lies was a terrible foe indeed.
In the background, Ahriman and Gurenon noted the charisma with which Jorgumander spoke. He had come far since they'd adopted him. Each of the Triumvirs of the Society had their own agendas, but regardless, they'd grown fond of their Lord Imperial, whose destiny was a great one indeed. All that stood in their way was the Raven Queen. Yet little did they know that all of them were pawns in a greater plan by a force beyond even them…
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Pawns. They're all pawns to me, even you father…one of the few entities I consider my peer, among the few I can respect. Why do you force me on this path?
The Grand Matriarch strolled past the Eiffel tower, pondering the questions in her mind. Once, she'd been asked the questions as well, a testing of her capacity. She'd inherited the power of her parents, the sum total of wisdom and knowledge of countless former Grand Matriarchs running through her.
She'd had to fight off countless cousins, countless other matriarchs, for her lineage was of the purest line, direct in descent and purity from Mogathor em'self, her furthest ancestor and the first Grand Matriarch, the founder of the Janthril dynasty.
The questions that had tested her were simple yet profound, and soon, her father would have to undergo the Final Question, just as the Raven Queen had her four stages to undergo as she ascended to her destined place. First she had to lose whatever Innocence she had left then she would suffer the Truth, understand Mercy, and finally…experience Regret.
As for her father, his question was far more simple, yet all the more damaging; Who are you?
Neither male nor female or anything in between, yet embodying it, different entities perceived her as they desired. Humans saw her as an angelic being of decimating beauty, demons saw her as a paragon of their kind, yet all in all, paradox defined her and transcended her, she to it in turn.
Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Yet you among all father, you resisted and transcended that. Now you waste your existence, trying to empower through destiny a single demigod in a minor universe of negligible importance, as important in the grand scheme of things as the loss of an electron of an atom is to me. You will awaken, you know I force it upon you, yet you wonder why and fight it. Of all things, are you so scared of transcending to that final instrumentality that you deny your truest nature?
Confusion and paradox for a god, for a being transcendent beyond godhood, was an unwelcome thing indeed. Yet here she existed in a detachment of being, her name Celia Reyes, and she had work to do. First things first, she had to see Amanda Waller. After all, in a complex tapestry, all it took was to undo the right thread or thread in the right sequence, and everything fell apart. Which was exactly what she wanted.
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Accelerating to supersonic velocities, Raven barely managed to keep up with Starfire. Without a doubt Starfire was the physical powerhouse of the Titans; though she didn't look it, she could lift twice as much as Cyborg could and was the toughest and fastest member of the entire Titans roster, her only other match possibly being Red Star. Her strength's upper limit alone was gauged at 50 tons. During sparring sessions, they'd often fought to near-standstills, though one could sense that both were holding back. Even in practice, Starfire was a gentle soul who disliked injuring her opponents.
However, in the case of Blackfire, especially after the betrayal on Tamaran, and the revelation that it had been her who'd sold Starfire to the Gordanians as a slave… such restraint did not apply.
Overhead, the ship had withdrawn to the thermosphere. Raven would soon have to withdraw for lack of air. Only Starfire was capable of surviving in the vacuum of space amongst the entire team. Several kilometers below her, the Titan Quinjet lanced into the atmosphere, piloted by Robin, followed by the aptly named Sky Blue, the variously labeled jet/hover/bike/cycle of the Black Tiger.
Given the thermosphere laid between the maximum altitude for aircraft and the minimum altitude for orbital spacecraft of human origins, this region of the atmosphere was only accessible to advanced aerospace craft of non-human design or experimental military-grade aerospace craft such as the USAF Aurora or Justice League Javelin.
As such the cruiser was beyond the range of conventional military anti-air defences, explaining the lack of pursuit on the part of the USAF. After the September 11 incident, America had become rather paranoid about suspicious aircraft in its airspace. With non-human spacecraft, their paranoia verged on frothing hysteria.
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Cyborg maintained their approach vector, as he activated the ECM (Electronic Counter-Measures) and ECCM (to counter any ECMs the enemy may have had), prepared for evasive actions, in the event that the cruiser should fire on them.
Blackfire had returned, after all this time. Her presence was never a good sign for anyone, but especially for Starfire. Blackfire seemed to possess a pathological hatred bordering on psychosis toward her sister, whom she'd shown constant disdain for, even during the few times Starfire had tried to make friendly overtures.
He looked out the cockpit and noticed Az on the jetbike as it quite literally slammed its way through the atmosphere, accelerating at such a rate that he was probably experiencing g-forces in excess of 30g's. Humans could survive about 20 to 40 g's instantaneously, with values of a 100 g's or more being lethal, and the record being 179 g's of acceleration. A cone of friction heated air had formed at the front of the jetbike, making it look as if a comet was heading towards space from the planet.
From the time spent, Cy estimated that he'd somehow managed to endure upwards of 70g's for several minutes, probably from the new armour referred to as a Shafaq-model armour suit. He'd pulled out of storage from the Dalibor Academy, where he seemed to have a modest cache of equipment and weapons stored. Again, he had demonstrated access to resources and personnel the Titans still had to know of. Of course, by extension, he was opening up access of those resources to them.
Trust. He's trying to gain our trust.
Within seconds they'd reached Raven, while Starfire was three quarters of the way to the cruiser. As she hopped into the cockpit, gulping in breaths of desperately needed air, she looked out at her bodyguard and gave him a thumbs-up. He nodded, before accelerating towards Starfire.
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Her eyes flaring a violent green, hands crackling with suppressed energy, Starfire floated in front of the cruiser, the thin atmosphere no hindrance to her. Somehow, it all seemed wrong. She'd come prepared for a fight, raw anger surging through every fibre of her being, yet the cruiser was not reacting with hostility at all. It had simply moved out of range of human weapons systems and maintained a geostationary position.
None of its weapon systems were activated; even the point defence weapons that studded the hull were passive. As she stared at the enormous cruiser, Starfire cursed her moment of anger. Without thinking, she'd simply gone straight up against a vessel with enough firepower to destroy her, simply because she'd seen her sister's emblem.
From the bow of the large cruiser, roughly a mile along, a recognizable figure appeared, exiting from an airlock. Clad in her normal attire, she regally floated toward her sister, accompanied by a retinue of Thanagarian guards.
Clenching her fists in restrained anger Starfire hissed her sister's name, putting all her anger and hate into it as she punctuated every syllable. It was surprising to think that a normally so effervescent individual as Starfire could be so resentful. Still, the halo's only there 'cause it's held up by the horns…
"Komand'r…"
"Hello, little sister," said Blackfire, condescending as ever and sneering smugly. "Long time no see."
Without hesitation, Starfire flew at her elder sister, letting the collected star bolt energy blast into her; at least, where she should have been a split second before. She turned her head only to have her face slugged with the full strength of a Tamaranean behind it, before she felt her right arm twisted. With a powerful wrench, Blackfiretwisted, and her shoulder gave way, cleanly dislocating. She screamed.
"Pathetic." Blackfire's typical reply to any of her actions, no matter what she did, how she did. It was never good enough for Blackfire.
Fighting back the agony she head butted her sister, drawing blood and breaking the soft tissues of her nose. Of course, that would heal fast enough. Rage directing her actions, Starfire simply went berserk as she used her other hand to get Blackfire in a vise-like grip around her throat and pressed down hard, choking off the blodd supply. Blackfire sent a powerful hammerfist slamming into Starfire's inner elbow, but her grip remained, tenacious like a pit bull.
A blood choke or carotid restraint was a chokehold that compressed one or both carotid arteries and/or jugular veins without compressing the airway, hence causing cerebral ischemia and temporary hypoxia (inadequate supply oxygen) of the brain. Regardless of who you opponent was, a well applied blood choke lead to unconsciousness in 4-10 seconds. Tamaraneans shared a similar enough anatomy and genetic structure to humans to have the same situation occur to them.
Using her legs, Starfire tucked her legs toward her chest and slammed both feet against her sister's face, using the momentum to propel her away from her. The spray of blood that came from the damaged tissues froze into a mist of droplets in the air, as Blackfire slowly recovered, her tongue dipping out to lick the dried blood dripping from her ruined nose.
Both sisters stared across the gulf between them, the Thanagarians refusing to interfere. After all, when two rampaging elephants were locked in battle, the grass got trampled, and only the strong baobab or acacia survived.
Through the thin atmosphere, she heard Blackfire's voice, amplified by a speaker, her statement simple and direct in their native tongue; "αδελφή, πρέπει να μιλήσουμε. αδελφή, πρέπει να μιλήσουμε. Δεν ήρθα εδώ να παλεψω (Sister, we need to talk. I did not come here to fight.)
"Και γιατί είναι αυτός? (And why is that?)" Starfire glowered, awaiting her sister's reply.
"Το Galfore με έστειλε για να σας φέρει κατ' οίκον Είμαστε τώρα στον πόλεμο με το Gordanians και το έθνος μας σας χρειάζεται."
As she heard the reply, she knew in her heart that this wasn't one of her sister's lies, couldn't be.
Just then, her team arrived, the TitanJet arriving with all canons prepared to fire, while Sky Blue rose by Starfire's side, the Black Tiger holding dual OCI Misriah Armouries M6D pistols in either hand, black technology not of this universe, gauss cannons on the jetbike tracking multiple targets. The weapon used a set of magnets to propel a 25mm slug of depleted uranium at high speeds.
Suffice to say, the raw mass and great speeds of the projectile was the key to its stopping power and performance, sufficient to kill even Starfire with a single hit. Starfire made a cutting motion, as he holstered his pistols and deactivated the cannon, his armour returning to its passive sable colour.
For now, they would parley.