DC Heroes: MechWarrior I

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All characters and situations contained in this story are ©2002 by either DC Comics Inc. or WhizKids and are used without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. No profit is made from this story. This original story is ©2002 by Christopher W. Blaine and may not be reproduced either in part or as a whole without the express permission of the author.

Chapter 6 Romanus (Thanagarian Sector) Solaris Gotham Commonwealth January 17, 3032

"You have excelled in your training, Matches Malone," Lady Shiva said as she sat in the lotus position, her eyes closed. Opposite her, Bruce sat much the same way only his eyes were open. He never closed his eyes anymore; he even rationalized that he slept with his eyes open. Never again would he ever be caught off guard. Not physically. Not spiritually. Not emotionally. "You have put forth a fierceness that I have not seen in many ages," she said.

Bruce said nothing and took cold comfort in the compliment. Ever since the day he had learned of John and Mary Grayson's death at the hands of an assassin that had been gunning for him, he had focused his heartache into his training. His list of people deserving of his wraith was growing.

"You have nothing to say, quineg?" she asked, again speaking as if she were descended from the Justice League.

"Neg," he replied, speaking in the way she had taught him to. In the chamber when they trained he could only speak as she did. No contractions. No waste. In speech and in deed, everything that was done in here was done efficiently. "If I show fierceness or more joy in what I do it is because I want to be a great warrior."

"And what does that mean, Matches Malone? What is a great warrior?" she asked, opening her eyes slowly. She was quite beautiful and very deadly. She could kill Bruce a thousand different ways, as she had proven the first day when one of the other trainees had proven to be disruptive. She had snapped his neck so quickly that he was dead before the sound of the bones breaking reached the other students. Bruce had to fight the urge that day to cry out but he soon learned that the man had been wanted on several worlds for various violent crimes.

Still, killing in cold blood seemed wrong to him. The man should have had the benefit of a trial. Shiva had noted Bruce's disdain and at first had taunted him about it. When he refused to budge from his position, she had come to respect it but still thought it foolish.

"A warrior is not one who wins wars," he said.

"True."

"A warrior is one who honorably defends what is their charge, be it a person, a place or an object. It does not matter."

She smiled. "Is not victory the goal of all warriors?"

"Victory is a goal, but honor is a way of life. Victory without honor is meaningless. It is far better to suffer defeat with your honor intact."

She slowly stood up, her nude body silhouetted in the moonlight. He felt himself stirring as he looked upon her. His training had far exceeded the others and he was already advancing by leaps and bounds. He was trained alone now either here or in the arena late at night. Afterwards, it was always the same; lovemaking until the sun broke the horizon.

Through Shiva, he had shed much of his boyish innocence as she initiated him into the world of manhood. Her strenuous program of calisthenics and 'mech piloting in a machine missing several heat sinks had burned away what had remained of his baby fat. His beard was coming in quite dark and she helped him dye it red. She stated that his reasons for hiding his true identity were his alone and he would reveal them to those he wished to know. "Besides my lover, I know red isn't your natural color," she had said with a lustful glare.

Bruce knew that soon their time would be over. She had told him that he could no longer learn anything else in the classroom, that experience and cold reality would soon become his instructor. Tonight was his final test. No mock battles, no practicing with the many weapons adorned on the wall. It was a simple ask and answer session.

She walked over to him and held out her hands. It was ironic that hands that could easily be used for killing could also be used for loving. He wondered if that made her more human. "Were we to have been raised together, a fine warrior I am sure you would have become."

He took her hands and stood up. He then pulled her to his chest. His embrace was filled with real emotion. He hated saying good-bye. In a way, the constant routine of training and coupling had become more familiar to him then his previous life. A part of him wanted it to continue forever, but his mind told him it could not. "Were we raised together, I may have fallen in love."

She laughed lightly. It was the same laugh she used after killing an opponent. "Love has no meaning for me, Matches Malone, but I do feel a fondness for you. Should I ever have to kill you, I promise to make it painless."

He pushed her back so he could look into her almond-shaped eyes. Yes, he very well could have fallen in love with her, despite the twenty-year age difference. "You would kill me?"

"I am bound to Ra's Al Ghul; it is through him I achieve my honor. In ritual combat did he defeat me many years ago," she said sadly. It was obvious to Bruce that whatever she was talking about, the life she had led prior to coming into Ra's Al Ghul's employ was much more preferable to the one she had now. "Still, it is not all bad. Come, share my bed this one last night before you take your place with the stable warriors."

He allowed her to lead him to the bed and he did not leave for many, many hours.

"You come with high marks, junior," Plas said as Bruce poured himself some coffee. The older MechWarrior was looking over Matches Malone's training dossier. "Got through the advanced training too? Hell, I haven't gotten that far." He closed the folder and handed it back to Bruce. Both men were waiting outside the office of Ra's Al Ghul. This was to be Bruce's first time meeting his mysterious employer and he hoped that by gaining the good graces of the man, he might learn more about possible suspects in his parents' murder.

"It was fun," Bruce replied, smiling large.

Plas nodded. "I'm sure it was. I hear you and Shiva got really close."

Bruce sipped at his coffee. "Well, let's just say old Matches could light her fire."

Plas laughed. "I heard she kicked your ass a lot. A whole lot."

Bruce said nothing, but forced himself to blush. Shiva had taught him much about body control and how to fake emotional responses to confuse an enemy. Many times he had thought she was filled with lust right before she would land a roundhouse kick to his jaw. Before Plas could prod for more details, the door opened and a young woman stepped out.

Bruce's heart stopped and he felt himself get weak in the knees. It was like meeting Selina for the first time all over again, but different somehow. The woman was young, probably younger than Bruce, with olive skin and long, dark hair. She spoke with an accent Bruce could quite place, but found warming. "My father will see you now," she said, gesturing inside.

Bruce pulled off his sunglasses, wanting to take her in without the shading of the natural light. With Selina, he had felt infatuation. With Shiva, it had been lust. Now, he was sure, he was feeling love. He did not want to go into the office; he wanted to remain outside with her. He probably would not have gone in if she hadn't waited for the two men and went inside herself.

Bruce almost pushed Plas down to the floor trying to get in, but then he stopped when he saw the man seated in the expensive leather chair. The man reminded Bruce of a monarch, the way his gaze seemed to be regal. His posture suggested someone secure in their position in life, not worried about the trivial things that plagued the common man. His moustache and goatee were perfectly trimmed, as was his dark hair with the ever so slight hint of gray at the temples.

Bruce was immediately wary of this man. He reminded the Archon-Prince of a picture of Thanagarian Combine Coordinator Katar Hol he had seen once. An angry man trying very hard to be pleasant. "Welcome, Matches Malone; I bid thee enter and be comfortable," Ra's said, gesturing for Bruce to sit down.

Bruce managed to summon enough self-control to keep his eyes on Ra's and not his daughter, who took a convenient place behind her father. Plas stood behind Bruce. "And Mr. O'Brien, it is always good to see that you are functional."

Plas smiled and adjusted his awkward glasses. Bruce had learned that Plas's glasses were actually capable of allowing him to see up to 100 times magnification. A very handy thing to have when working on BattleMechs. "Just happy to be alive, sir," Plas responded.

Bruce didn't say anything at first, but the silence made him feel awkward. "I do appreciate everything you have done for me, Mr. Al Ghul," Bruce started, not exactly sure was title he should be using.

If he made a mistake, it was not evident in Ra's reply. "I would like to say I did it purely out of the goodness of my heart, Mr. Malone, but that would be a lie. I hope that you will win me a good deal of money as you compete for me."

"Of course, sir, I only meant that the training I have received has been more than I could hope for," Bruce offered.

"Tell me, Mr. Malone," Ra's daughter began, "where is it that you come from that you have a military-grade BattleMech in your possession?"

Her voice was like angels singing and Bruce's tongue seemed loose and flaccid as he tried to come up with an answer. He had worked on his cover story so hard that it was second nature to him now. "Forgive Talia, Mr. Malone," Ra's said with an eye to the woman, "but she sometimes forgets her manners. You origins are not important."

"I'd like to answer if I may, sir," Bruce started, swallowing hard. Talia was looking directly at him and he felt as if he were falling into her eyes. "The BattleMech is my inheritance from my uncle. I come from a small, yet prosperous family that is spread out from the Metropolitan Suns to the Free Atlantean League." Bruce suddenly realized he was not in character, so entranced that he had forgotten for a moment that he was wearing a disguise. "My old man and I had a fight, so I left. He wanted me to go to the Metropolis Academy, but I wasn't into the scene."

Ra's expression did not change, but his eyes seemed to flash recognition and Bruce wondered if he had just made a very fatal error. "Indeed, Mr. Malone," Ra's said, letting the name hang in the air just a little too long. "We sometimes are haunted by the expectations our parents put on us. Is that not right, my daughter?"

Talia bent down and kissed her father's cheek. "I live to serve, my father." She stood back up and gave Bruce a faint smile. What did that mean he wondered?

"I have scheduled you for your first battle next week. Mr. O'Brien will be preparing your 'mech. I have selected a unique one for you based upon your skills. It is a Gotham design, very unique even in the Commonwealth. Are you familiar with the Batman?"

Bruce swallowed. "Y-yeah, I've heard of it. Big 'mech."

Ra's nodded and stood up. He walked over to a curtain and pulled it back to reveal the rear of the building. Several BattleMechs were standing there, a sort of silent sentry garrison. In the middle was the distinctive form of the Batman, the 'mech that his father had died in.

Only this one was not painted in the gray and blue scheme of the Gotham Commonwealth. This had some sort of desert camouflage color scheme. It seemed unnatural on the machine but Bruce his feelings by putting his sunglasses back on as he approached the window. "It is a powerful machine and will easily dispatch any other similar 'mech with the correct pilot. I expect it to be the main attraction at next week's fight."

"I'll kick ass," Bruce said, but his voice was softer than he would have liked. First Talia and now the Batman; he was being thrown too many curves at one time and he needed to step back and get some perspective. "Where'd it come from?"

"Ah, it seems that it was acquired by Thanagarian Combine after the death of the Archon, Thomas Wayne. I believed they hoped to study it for their own use, but they discarded it as a flawed design." Ra's smiled politely as if waiting for Bruce to disagree and he wondered if Ra's knew the truth.

He put the thought out of his mind. If Ra's knew who he was, he certainly wouldn't let him fight for him. Better to send Bruce home under guard and collect the good graces of the Archon-General. "It's a good design, but you know how those hawks get; if it don't have a bird's name, its no good."

"Precisely the reason why I was able to purchase it so cheaply." He closed the curtains. "You will be housed in the MechWarrior quarters; I will assign O'Brien as you tech for the time being until I can secure the services of a competent one. I can't have my head technician out of the loop for too long."

Ra's reached out and shook hands with Bruce before dismissing him. When both Bruce and Plas were out of the room, Ra's turned to his daughter. "He finds you attractive, it throws him off his guard. Did you note the change in accent?'

She nodded and walked over to the wet bar to pour some drinks. "Commonwealth, sounds a hint like a New Gotham one. He could be an Oracle agent."

Ra's shook his head and received the drink offered by his daughter. "No, he has regal bearing that he is trying to hide, but I can see it in his eyes."

"They are pretty eyes," Talia commented.

"Really? Is it possible that you have found a mate? Can I count on grandchildren finally?" Ra's laughed as he took a drink. "He is of noble blood, most likely a Steiner. How unfortunate that they breed like cockroaches, we will probably never discover which one he is."

"What if he is a Wayne?" she asked.

"Impossible. Bruce Wayne is dead. Our spy in Oracle confirmed that both he and a concubine were killed on Blackgate. For pity's sake, they burned the bodies and scattered the ashes over the royal gardens." He downed his drink and held it up for another. His daughter dutifully obeyed. "The only reason word isn't out is because Pennyworth is probably trying to sober Matthew Wayne up so he can assume the throne before Melissa Steiner makes a bid for power." Matthew Wayne was the only other living Wayne eligible for the throne; a distant cousin to the murdered Archon Thomas Wayne.

"Could she really do it?"

Ra's nodded. "Yes. Without a legitimate heir, she could press the people to demand that a healthy and strong house be given control. In the Commonwealth, that means only one family, Steiner."

Talia finished making the drink and handed it to her father. "And, of course, she will be indebted to you for all of the financial support you have provided for her family's various political movements."

He clanged his glass to hers. "I expect something along the lines of a generalship. From there, I can fill the officer corps with my loyal followers that are already spread throughout the Inner Sphere. In a few short years, I will be able to assert military control over the Gotham Commonwealth. After that, nothing will stop me from ruling the Inner Sphere as First Lord of the renewed Justice League!"