The Emperor's Talon
Chapter 8: Can You See the Refiner's Fire?
Bruce Wayne joined Dick Grayson by the fireplace in the living-room. The kid's eyes were transfixed on the crackling fire as it licked the burning wood; casting striking black shadows that danced on their faces. Dick was wearing that contemplative expression he always wore before he surprised Bruce with something either insightful or a piece of information he was not necessarily privy to but had nevertheless uncovered.
"Do you believe things can rise from the fire?" asked Dick.
Bruce looked at him with a raised eyebrow. What an odd child. "Like a phoenix?" he suggested. When Dick nodded, he considered it. "Yes, I suppose so."
"All the bad things in life are kind of like fire, don't you think? I mean, trials burn away pieces of what you were. You can either be consumed by fire or refined by it."
"Yes, I think life is a kind of metaphorical fire," Bruce agreed. He suspected he was picking up on where the boy was going. "You think being the Talon was like a kind of fire for you. And you're hoping you will come out refined by the experience rather than letting yourself be consumed by the pain."
"Yeah." Dick's eyes never left the leaping flames.
"What a very Jedi-like thing to say," Bruce teased. And wasn't that strange? Since when had he started teasing? Playful and Batman do not, nor had they ever, gone together.
"I was wondering if you believed it was possible," said Dick hugging his knees.
Bruce considered this for a moment. "I didn't," he confessed, "I had always been taught that no one can come back from the Dark Side. And then I met you." He turned towards Dick to see bright eyes watching him intently. "I think you might turn out alright kid."
"So, what happens now?"
Feeling less conflicted about having the boy around than he did three months ago when he happened upon a helpless Talon outside the city limits, Bruce gave voice to the thoughts rambling through his head (curtesy of one influential Alfred Pennyworth). "I know I said you should stay in the cave until I could be sure you weren't a threat any-more; and that, as soon as I was confident, I'd send you on your way. But…I um, think you should…I mean it would probably be best for you…to…" Bruce cursed himself for not finding the right words. "I want you to stay."
Richard cocked his head. "Meaning…"
Bruce exhaled. This was all happening too fast. "I was thinking that it would be unwise to send a twelve-year-old out into the world by himself; even if said kid could take care of himself. That's why I brought you up to the manor- you can't spend the rest of your life in the cave."
Dick's excitement radiated in the Force: pure and full of light. But his face remained more or less neutral for a minute more. "Does this mean you'll let me join you on patrols?"
"One step at a time," Bruce cautioned. "I'd like to get you a civilian ID first. Like I said before, the Empire is still looking for you. The garrison of Storm Troopers in Gotham now outnumber the civilian police two to one."
Dick nodded; if not satisfied, then understanding. He knew when it was better not to push people. For his part, he'd had his doubts about Bruce just as he knew Bruce had doubts about him. The man was introspective at best and full of silent but broiling anger at worst. Distrust tainted every encounter. And it took a while for Dick to figure things out. Then it hit him; Bruce Wayne- the all mighty Batman- was lost and stumbling in the dark like a hopeless youngling. And while the Batman had vowed to train him and help mold him into a hero for justice, Dick knew that it was really Bruce Wayne who was lost and in need of a savior. In that moment, Dick made a silent promise to save Bruce from his self-inflicted exile from the world. If there was one way for a Former Talon to start giving back to the galaxy, it was saving the man who fought for the people of that galaxy with every breath.
The two sat in an odd but comfortable silence for a few minutes. Dick was staring into the fire and wondering what stories it could tell if only it had a voice. Bruce was wondering what in the nine Corellian hells he had gotten himself into. In one night, everything he had thought and planned for the last three months had been shot to pieces in a matter of hours. How in the universe was he going to keep the Emperor's Talon in his house/basement without the world crumbling to pieces? Well, he was the greatest detective this side of the Force. If he set his mind to it, he'd find a way.
The Jericho, Hyperspace:
Striding into the cock-pit of the ship Lord Vader had given them, Boba Fett casually twirled a blaster pistol through his fingers and looked sidelong at his unfortunately designated companion. It was the way of bounty hunters not to work together much less trust each other; or anyone else for that matter. Yet Lord Vader had been most explicit that they were to work together. The Sith had insisted that two of them would be needed. Boba doubted that two bounty hunters of his caliber- especially if Slade Wilson lived up to his formidable reputation- would be needed to capture the Batman of Gotham and the Emperor's little Talon. He was rather confident either one of them could handle the mission on their own.
Sitting down in the co-pilot's chair, Boba addressed the man beside him, "you really think two of us are necessary? If you ask me, this is over-kill."
Slade looked up at the man in Mandelorian armor out of his one good eye. "I suspect we shall find out once we arrive on Alvorine," he responded calmly, "Lord Vader is not the most stable person, but he's no idiot. I suspect the Bat and the Talon, if they have indeed joined forces, will be a formidable foe."
"I work alone," Boba Fett huffed, "at the very least the Empire could have given us is our own ships."
"While I am not thrilled with the prospect of working with the likes of you myself, I suppose a mutual agreement is necessary. Were we to work against each other, the prize will certainly escape. When entering into a contract with the Empire, it's best to keep their end goal in mind; lest by some accident, the quarry evades capture and the hunter is executed." Slade glared pointedly at his partner daring the hot-headed bounty hunter to disagree.
For his part, Boba huffed again and began cleaning his blaster. Though he didn't trust Slade as far as he could spit, the old man was certainly the wiser of the two of them. He figured it would be better to catch the Bat and the boy and then betray Slade and collect the bounty himself. He had no doubt that the man beside him was plotting the very same thing. So, with that un-spoked understanding, Boba was oddly optimistic about the productivity of their partnership- however long it lasted.
"Doing your homework on the Talon I see," quipped Boba after a moment, deliberately throwing Slade out of his introspective trance.
"The kid's got skills," observed Slade coolly as he studied the video footage of some of the Talon's exploits. He refused to be ruffled by his companion's obvious attempt to rile him.
Boba leaned towards the holo-screen. "Yeah, not bad for a child."
"Not bad, indeed," Slade responded thoughtfully.
Gotham City, Alvorine:
Alfred hummed as he cooked breakfast the following morning. Personally, he couldn't be more delighted that Bruce was warming up to Richard. The boy had stolen his heart the first night Batman brought him home. Dick had a wisdom about him, a sarcastic temper, and a stubbornness that rivaled Batman's. Alfred liked the idea of Bruce having to deal with a kid who gave the Dark Knight as much trouble as Batman gave Alfred himself. Call it just-deserts or whatever you like. It was about time someone showed Bruce just what a pain in a certain butler's backside he could be.
Outside the window behind the sink, Alvorine's white sun blazed; melting the snow and announcing the arrival of spring with all but blaring Gungan trumpets. Alfred allowed the mood of the morning to settle on his shoulders. The Force itself seamed calmer and brighter than it had in almost a decade since the rise of the Galactic Empire. Hope was as elusive as a moonbeam; yet Alfred had always clung to every shred he could find as though his life depended on it. Some days, like today, it payed off and rewarded the old man with boundless peace.
When Bruce walked into the kitchen, Alfred set a mug of steaming caf in front of him. "Good morning, sir," he greeted, "I trust you slept well."
Bruce grunted. He was impossible in the mornings.
"Master Richard was up and about hours ago. I believe he went to the cave to train," Alfred continued. He was not going to allow a grouchy-morning Batman to spoil his mood.
Bruce just grunted again and reached for his data reader.
"It's the first day of spring," the old man tried again.
Finally getting the hint that he was not allowed to spend his morning in his customary brooding solitude, Bruce looked up at his faithful friend. "Is something on you mind Alfred?"
"Well, sir, I cannot help but wonder what you are going to do with the boy now."
"I imagine I'll have to figure something out eventually," replied Bruce.
"Two steps forward, one step back; is that it, sir?"
Bruce glared up from his contemplation of the caf in his hands. "I said, I'll figure it out. Force knows hiding Dick from the Empire- likely in plain sight- isn't going to be a simple matter of 'hey, look at this kid I found. I'd like to keep him here so Emperor Palpatine doesn't make a killing machine out of him again!' It needs a more thought than that."
"Agreed, sir," said Alfred dryly.
Rubbing his temples and calming himself considerably, Bruce continued. "I think my first move should be to question Commissioner Gordon and District Governor Vox and find out just what the Empire/city knows about the Talon. Then I'll have an idea how to proceed."
"I think that would be most prudent," Alfred agreed. Setting a plate of chirrup eggs before his charge, he smiled. "Now how about that spring weather outside?"
"About time." They continued to make pleasant small talk as Bruce finished his meal.
Stepping out into the fresh spring air of Alvorine, Bruce Wayne took a moment to marvel at the beauty of the glistening city scape. Like Alfred, the hopefulness of spring began to invade his thoughts; bringing to mind hope and peace. Whatever trepidation he had felt about working towards taking on a new charge, or the Empire, or Gotham's criminals began to evaporate along with the snow. He breathed deeply. So, this was why the old man was so chatty and insistent on resolving the issue with Richard. Hope was marvelous inspiration for productivity.
He walked into the landing pad and climbed into his sleek Correlian speeder, and tossed his data-pad and briefcase on the passenger seat. Pressing his thumb-print against the starter, the engines purred to life. The repulsor-lifts engaged, and the speeder lifted off the ground. He pushed the thrusters and began his daily commute to Gotham City's bustling business district. Air traffic was heavy, but no worse than usual, and soon Bruce was setting his speeder down on his private landing pad on the top of the Wayne Enterprise's skyscraper. From the top of the building, he could see the city beneath him as a jungle of glass high-rises, apartment complexes, and tiny moving diamond that were the speeders zipping through the air. From the top of Wayne Enterprises, Bruce felt like a king.
...
Life is indeed a refiner's fire. A Jedi knight will walk through the flames and on the other side become a king. And a child assassin will walk through to emerge a beacon of hope. Despair is life's great lie; trials strengthen those who do not break.
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AN: Thank you all for your interest in this story and patience; it is greatly appreciated. And Happy New Year!