The Emperor's Talon
Chapter 16: Battle of Intel
Batman's fingers flew over the computer keys. Something about the man at the Grandfield ball was obviously wrong. He'd seen the way the man watched Richard Grayson surreptitiously during the party; stealing glances whenever possible, stalking the young boy like a lion, and all the while thinking he was being subtle. Subtle Batman's ass! Nothing slipped past his observation. Even if his human radar was not alerted by any given potential threat, the Force alerted him.
He pulled up the security tapes of the ball. There. A perfect clip of the man's face. Batman zeroed in on the footage and enlarged the face. "Computer, run facial recognition software," Batman demanded.
"Acknowledged," answered the feminine computerized voice, "running software."
On a hunch, he added, "run the face from the security feed against all known A-list bounty hunters."
"Yes sir. Run is 2 percent complete."
Batman leaned back in his chair as the computer ran its course. He eyed the exercise equipment, considering a quick workout to get his mind back under control. He decided against it. After what felt like a few minutes, but was really hours, the computer chimed. "Cross-reference scan of known A-list bounty hunters and imperial standing, complete."
Bruce looked at the batcomputer's readout from the program he ran before they left for the party. A list of top notch bounty hunters known to favor M-113 Micro-pulse blaster pistols cross refenced with Imperial standing appeared on the screen. A few names caught his attention: Ebba Koth, Bane, Snake, and Boba Fett.
"Any luck with the computer?" asked a young voice behind him.
Bruce turned around to see Dick Grayson tugging off his suit jacket, his tie already hung slovenly over his shoulders in the way Alfred always said was reminiscent of a hobo.
Batman ran a tired hand down his face. "You're supposed to be in bed."
"I couldn't sleep. Beside, I've noticed you don't often follow your own advice," retorted Dick.
"I'm Batman. I don't need sleep."
Dick snorted. He leaned over the back of Batman's chair to look at the list of bounty hunters known to favor a M-113 Micro-pulse blaster. "Stang," he cursed, "why didn't I think of that sooner?"
Batman turned to look at him. "What?"
"Boba Fett," answered Dick, "he's worked for Darth Vader once before. He's good. Didn't fail the mission, but got himself into a heap of trouble getting it done."
Batman picked up on the incident Dick was referring to immediately. "The bombing of the Noobian Embassy on Raxis Prime."
Dick nodded.
Batman sighed. "He's not the only one after us."
Dick nodded again. "The man at the ball."
An affirmative grunt.
Dick chewed his lower lip. It looked like hundreds of confusing emotions had taken over him and were all bubbling to the forefront of his mind. Then, as suddenly as the emotions had appeared on his face, they disappeared behind a carefully constructed mask. Batman had already learned to watch out for that particular blankness on Richard's face; it always signaled the return of some of his previous training with the Court of Owls.
"What are you thinking?" prodded Batman.
"I…"
Dick was interrupted by the computer. "Sir, the facial recognition software run is complete."
"Report," ordered Batman sitting up straighter in the chair.
"Affirmative," answered the computer. The picture of the man at the ball who had harassed Dick and Barbra appeared alongside a picture of Slade Wilson from his Bounty Hunter profile. "The security image is a 99.8 percent match for Slade Wilson AKA. Deathstroke. Species: human male. Occupation: bounty hunter, assassin, and freelance mercenary. Service: active. Current employer un-known."
Batman stroked his chin before attacking the computer keyboard again. He pulled up an image of Boba Fett alongside the image of Slade Wilson. "They're individual reputations are too good for them to have teamed up against us."
"Well, let's put together everything we know," Dick suggested.
"We know the Empire wants us both dead. And that the entire planetary security of Alvorine is currently looking for us. We also know that there is another more illusive force helping the Storm Troopers," said Batman.
"And we've deduced that Darth Vader is behind the hunt, if the Empire is running true to form. He isn't above hiring bounty hunters- but he only goes with the very best. From experience, I've learned that he never does anything halfway. Usually, his methods are overkill."
Batman looked at him intently. "So, what you're getting at is that Darth Vader could very well have hired two of the best bounty hunters in the galaxy to kill us."
"Or bring us back to him alive, whichever happens to work out," Dick finished. "It's not unlikely."
Crime Alley: Apartment 66:
A blue Holo-gram image of Darth Vader appeared in the middle of the dark apartment. The image, nearly life sized, flickered and buzzed as the Dark Lord of the Sith glared at his hired instruments of death. Or at least, Boba thought the man was glaring at them. It was hard to tell what was going on inside the head behind the bucket mask. However, whether the man was glaring at him or not, Boba was currently leaning casually against the back wall fiddling with the baster that had killed Willis Todd. A look to his left confirmed that his associate wasn't any more deferential towards their employer. Slade Wilson, arms crossed, looked unconcerned.
"The Emperor requires a progress report," said Vader.
Boba knew better than to offer a smart retort. But it was so tempting. Vader's mask and breathing apparatus alone gave him plenty of material to work with. Fortunately, Slade saved him from having to answer the dark lord.
"We have discovered that the Talon is now using the alias Robin and has teamed up with the Bat. They work together like a well-oiled machine already," said Slade.
"What is new about this information?" demanded Vader.
Deathstroke didn't so much as flinch. "They have a code of conduct which can easily be exploited. Batman's principals prohibit him, and by extension Robin, from killing any sentient being. They're crime fighters not soldiers. Robin, in particular has a heart for…victims or the oppressed."
Darth Vader didn't visibly respond to this information. "And how do you plan to use this information?"
"Such principals make ensnaring anyone a simple matter," Slade offered. His words were suggestive, his posture unmoving, his voice like the devil's.
"Do you have any idea regarding the bait for your trap?"
"As a matter of fact, I have two ideas."
Vader nodded. "I will relay your message to the Emperor. Results better not be long in coming."
Slade smiled. "Rest assured, the days of the Talon and the Bat are numbered."
Wayne Manor: Gotham City:
It was now 4:00 in the morning. Batman removed his cowl and laid it on the back of the computer chair. If Dick was right and both Boba Fett and Deathroke had been sent after them, then things were even more dangerous than he had initially thought. The fact the Deathstroke had been stalking Richard Grayson-Wayne at the ball and had hinted that he knew about the Talon, did nothing to easy his already fraying nerves. True, it could have been a ruse, but Batman hadn't made it this far by being complacent. No. he took suspicions like that as absolute fact. It kept him alive.
Batman, now Bruce Wayne, dragged a tired hand down his face. He could imagine puffy red rims under his eyes. He nearly jumped when Alfred materialized behind him. "You heard everything," he stated. It wasn't a question.
"Indeed sir," answered the old butler, "the acoustics in this cave are amazing. By the way sir, your laundry is done."
Bruce ignored the laundry comment. "Somehow Deathstroke figured out Dick's secret identity."
"You've dealt with this sort of thing before," Alfred pointed out. Bruce remained silent. "It's different this time, isn't it?"
"I'm afraid I'm going to lose him. I can't keep him down here in the cave anymore. Like you said, he needs a life, but there are things out there…"Bruce stopped midway through his confession, "it's too dangerous."
Alfred nodded knowingly. "A master's role is a confusing one."
"You should have seen him at the ball," Bruce continued, "he met Jim Gordon's little girl. I've never seen two children look so happy. Not since before the Clone Wars started. I can't keep him here even to protect him."
"You've come along way from wanting to imprison him for being the Talon," Alfred pointed out.
The two looked over at Dick who had, against his will, fallen asleep in the chair beside Bruce. He was curled into a little ball with his chin resting on his knees. Thick girlish eyelashes fluttered against snowy cheeks in a manner reminiscent of that first night Batman had dragged a frozen child assassin into the Batcave. Bruce draped Batman's cape over the small shoulders. Dick barely seemed to register the weight of the cape around him. "What do I do with him, Alfred?"
"Keep living your life as Bruce Wayne and keep letting him live his life as Richard Grayson. There's nothing else you can do. Yes, be cautious, but more people will get suspicious if you don't keep acting like functioning members of society."
Alfred had a good point, Bruce conceded. "Jim told me I had to put him in school."
"I think that would be wise," Alfred agreed. "In the meantime, sir, you should go upstairs and get a few hours of shuteye before work." Without another word, Bruce lifted Dick into his arms and prepared to carry him upstairs. Alfred wisely kept his mouth shut.
AN: Hope you're following the story well enough. Stay tuned, the first showdown between Dick Grayson and Deathstroke is afoot. As always, your thought and input is appreciated. Thanks for reading.