Disclaimer: all characters and locations unless featured in the Teen Titans
show or otherwise, are property of Mr. Bigg.
LOCATION: On the move (somewhere in Earth's upper atmosphere)
Storm clouds rumbled and grumbled loudly, as if discontent about the coming rain. The ground was far, far below, filled with barren canyons and jagged spires. The only life out here was a few scattered mountain goats and a lone falcon, which was picking through the evening's kill.
In an instant, a small, jet-propelled craft rocketed through the landscape. On its' wake traveled its own thunderous din. The falcon took a brief look at the passing vessel, then returned to its meal
Falcons aren't too concerned about such things.
With some neat stitching, Dr. Tyr sewed up the last incision on Beast Boy's torso. "You have some promise, boy, but you are only the stepping stone," Tyr said politely, patting the boy on the head. He pressed a small buzzer on the table, summoning two medical officers into the room. "Monitor him. The minute he wakes up, sedate him and inject some Restorers into his system. Once the Restorers have finished, take him to his cell," Tyr said to the first.
Two the second, he said, "You- take these tissue samples to cryogenic storage. And be careful, fool! For every cell you damage, I take off a limb!" the doctor roared, his mood changing drastically. He staggered out of the surgery room, smashing into the steel walls of the corridor. With shaking hands, he pulled a glass vial filled with a metallic liquid. Popping the top off with his thumb, he dumped the contents into his gaping, screaming mouth. As the fluid made its way through his system, Dr. Tyr regained his senses. Wiping his mouth, he walked to an interface communicator built into the wall.
"Genocide. Give me a status report on the escape," Tyr ordered into the receiver.
"We got him. Not before that... girl had her fun. His situation is critical," Genocide responded.
"It's a good thing I brought a lot of the Restorer machines. Have a medic assess the dosage. Once he's healed, put him in the guest room," Tyr said, a sadistic smile spreading over his features.
"And what shall we do about the girl?" Genocide asked. There was a hint of anxiousness in his tone, like a dog begging for a scrap of meat.
"What the devil are you babbling about? Are you so eager to see Kiyo fail, Genocide? Perhaps you should be more concerned about you own affairs, you dunce. Kiyo has displayed her value to me- what have you done?" Tyr asked, walking towards the bridge.
Genocide's featureless mask kept him from betraying his emotions, but his whole body burned with rage. Once, he was the most feared cutthroat on the east coast. Now, he was taking insults from a nerd more than two feet shorter than him. He staggered off, taking a moment to tear the damaged panel off the wall, ripping the sheet metal in two.
He took some small satisfaction in knowing that someday, Tyr would get his.
After all, his name was Genocide for a reason.
Raven gritted her teeth as she felt a rogue insect scuttle over her leg. Encompassed in shadow, without any ability to move, she had lost all sense of time. Had she been in here hours? minutes? days?
It is all she can do to keep from screaming. Several times she had passed in and out of consciousness, several times she tried to reach a meditative state, trying to transcend her confines, but to no avail. Things... things just kept changing. Sometimes the walls of the "cell" seemed impossibly small, while other times she had a little room to maneuver. Sometimes she felt creatures heaped on her, and other times she felt only a few.
Over time, she began to wonder if she was slowly losing sanity. She took deep breaths, trying to calm herself. She must stay in control, she must maintain control, or the shadows would come. And when the shadows came, there was blood.
On the bridge, Dr. Tyr gazed at the oncoming storm.
"Sir? Shall I set a course for the base?" the bridge commander asked tentatively, and with good reason. His predecessor was little more than a stain on the floor.
"Hmm? Of course. Time is not on our side, not while the sides are still being drawn. Can't any of you lot sense it? The clouds are gathering, soon they will burst! (A/N: My sincerest apologies to J.R.R. Tolkien's corpse)" Tyr said gravely, never moving his eyes from the window.
The officer saluted, walking away. Tyr took no notice, seemingly enraptured by the flash-bang of the lightning and thunder. Out of the corner of his eye, his horrible, silvery eye, he saw a flash that certainly wasn't thunder. The small jet was a good half mile behind them, he judged, but it was gaining fast.
Tyr smiled slightly, turning away from the window. Nonchalantly, he strolled over to the security room, announcing his arrival to the young monitor within. "Boy! Make sure to monitor all unmanned escape ports and cargo bays. If you find anything, report it directly to me, understand!?" Tyr ordered. The young man nodded furiously, sighing when the doctor left the room.
Tyr stood besides the navigator, watching his massive ship speed towards his base. Under his breath he muttered "So, friend, you made your move. Now, it's my turn."
The small jet, aptly named the Monocerous, decelerated as it approached The Sword of Damocles's flank. The Using infrared, the small jet tracked the invisible juggernaut with surprising ease. "Approaching target. Ready the drill," The pilot said to his co-pilot. The co-pilot nodded, punching a few buttons. On the jet's nose, a large drill started to bore into the larger craft's hull.
Rayfe faced the group, and began his briefing. "Silencers should take care of the drill's noise. Once inside, we won't be able to pick you up unless you send a signal. Command's monitored a few bits of chatter- they're planning on landing by tomorrow, so keep this short. Once we pull away, we can do nothing to assist you- you're on your own. Do you understand?"
Adila gave Rayfe a salute, which he promptly returned. Conary noticed her cold eyes had a hungry look to them, which he could somewhat understand. From the rumors and gossip he'd heard, this mission was the culmination of her lifetime of training. He himself was a little less eager about this mission; no matter how much he was trained, he still felt like a kid with a few thousand dollars of electronics sewn into his jumpsuit. Hotei was closest to the makeshift entrance, his face as empty as his mind. Batholry was no where to be seen, presumably she was shrouding herself. She had a habit of standing out.
With a few clicks, their door was opened. The ship repositioned itself with quick, precise motions, allowing the group access. Hotei leaped through the hole like lightning; if there were any enemies on the other side, he would have to hold them back until everyone was through. Luckily enough, the room was empty. Adila scrambled gracefully through the opening, followed by a flow of unseen cold that was Batholry. Stepping up to the plate, Conary eased his way into the room. The crew on the Monocerous quickly patched the hole with several collapsible sheets of metal and some fast-stick epoxy. To Conary, it felt like they were sealing them in a tomb.
"Okay guys," He whispered hoarsely. "Show time."
LOCATION: On the move (somewhere in Earth's upper atmosphere)
Storm clouds rumbled and grumbled loudly, as if discontent about the coming rain. The ground was far, far below, filled with barren canyons and jagged spires. The only life out here was a few scattered mountain goats and a lone falcon, which was picking through the evening's kill.
In an instant, a small, jet-propelled craft rocketed through the landscape. On its' wake traveled its own thunderous din. The falcon took a brief look at the passing vessel, then returned to its meal
Falcons aren't too concerned about such things.
With some neat stitching, Dr. Tyr sewed up the last incision on Beast Boy's torso. "You have some promise, boy, but you are only the stepping stone," Tyr said politely, patting the boy on the head. He pressed a small buzzer on the table, summoning two medical officers into the room. "Monitor him. The minute he wakes up, sedate him and inject some Restorers into his system. Once the Restorers have finished, take him to his cell," Tyr said to the first.
Two the second, he said, "You- take these tissue samples to cryogenic storage. And be careful, fool! For every cell you damage, I take off a limb!" the doctor roared, his mood changing drastically. He staggered out of the surgery room, smashing into the steel walls of the corridor. With shaking hands, he pulled a glass vial filled with a metallic liquid. Popping the top off with his thumb, he dumped the contents into his gaping, screaming mouth. As the fluid made its way through his system, Dr. Tyr regained his senses. Wiping his mouth, he walked to an interface communicator built into the wall.
"Genocide. Give me a status report on the escape," Tyr ordered into the receiver.
"We got him. Not before that... girl had her fun. His situation is critical," Genocide responded.
"It's a good thing I brought a lot of the Restorer machines. Have a medic assess the dosage. Once he's healed, put him in the guest room," Tyr said, a sadistic smile spreading over his features.
"And what shall we do about the girl?" Genocide asked. There was a hint of anxiousness in his tone, like a dog begging for a scrap of meat.
"What the devil are you babbling about? Are you so eager to see Kiyo fail, Genocide? Perhaps you should be more concerned about you own affairs, you dunce. Kiyo has displayed her value to me- what have you done?" Tyr asked, walking towards the bridge.
Genocide's featureless mask kept him from betraying his emotions, but his whole body burned with rage. Once, he was the most feared cutthroat on the east coast. Now, he was taking insults from a nerd more than two feet shorter than him. He staggered off, taking a moment to tear the damaged panel off the wall, ripping the sheet metal in two.
He took some small satisfaction in knowing that someday, Tyr would get his.
After all, his name was Genocide for a reason.
Raven gritted her teeth as she felt a rogue insect scuttle over her leg. Encompassed in shadow, without any ability to move, she had lost all sense of time. Had she been in here hours? minutes? days?
It is all she can do to keep from screaming. Several times she had passed in and out of consciousness, several times she tried to reach a meditative state, trying to transcend her confines, but to no avail. Things... things just kept changing. Sometimes the walls of the "cell" seemed impossibly small, while other times she had a little room to maneuver. Sometimes she felt creatures heaped on her, and other times she felt only a few.
Over time, she began to wonder if she was slowly losing sanity. She took deep breaths, trying to calm herself. She must stay in control, she must maintain control, or the shadows would come. And when the shadows came, there was blood.
On the bridge, Dr. Tyr gazed at the oncoming storm.
"Sir? Shall I set a course for the base?" the bridge commander asked tentatively, and with good reason. His predecessor was little more than a stain on the floor.
"Hmm? Of course. Time is not on our side, not while the sides are still being drawn. Can't any of you lot sense it? The clouds are gathering, soon they will burst! (A/N: My sincerest apologies to J.R.R. Tolkien's corpse)" Tyr said gravely, never moving his eyes from the window.
The officer saluted, walking away. Tyr took no notice, seemingly enraptured by the flash-bang of the lightning and thunder. Out of the corner of his eye, his horrible, silvery eye, he saw a flash that certainly wasn't thunder. The small jet was a good half mile behind them, he judged, but it was gaining fast.
Tyr smiled slightly, turning away from the window. Nonchalantly, he strolled over to the security room, announcing his arrival to the young monitor within. "Boy! Make sure to monitor all unmanned escape ports and cargo bays. If you find anything, report it directly to me, understand!?" Tyr ordered. The young man nodded furiously, sighing when the doctor left the room.
Tyr stood besides the navigator, watching his massive ship speed towards his base. Under his breath he muttered "So, friend, you made your move. Now, it's my turn."
The small jet, aptly named the Monocerous, decelerated as it approached The Sword of Damocles's flank. The Using infrared, the small jet tracked the invisible juggernaut with surprising ease. "Approaching target. Ready the drill," The pilot said to his co-pilot. The co-pilot nodded, punching a few buttons. On the jet's nose, a large drill started to bore into the larger craft's hull.
Rayfe faced the group, and began his briefing. "Silencers should take care of the drill's noise. Once inside, we won't be able to pick you up unless you send a signal. Command's monitored a few bits of chatter- they're planning on landing by tomorrow, so keep this short. Once we pull away, we can do nothing to assist you- you're on your own. Do you understand?"
Adila gave Rayfe a salute, which he promptly returned. Conary noticed her cold eyes had a hungry look to them, which he could somewhat understand. From the rumors and gossip he'd heard, this mission was the culmination of her lifetime of training. He himself was a little less eager about this mission; no matter how much he was trained, he still felt like a kid with a few thousand dollars of electronics sewn into his jumpsuit. Hotei was closest to the makeshift entrance, his face as empty as his mind. Batholry was no where to be seen, presumably she was shrouding herself. She had a habit of standing out.
With a few clicks, their door was opened. The ship repositioned itself with quick, precise motions, allowing the group access. Hotei leaped through the hole like lightning; if there were any enemies on the other side, he would have to hold them back until everyone was through. Luckily enough, the room was empty. Adila scrambled gracefully through the opening, followed by a flow of unseen cold that was Batholry. Stepping up to the plate, Conary eased his way into the room. The crew on the Monocerous quickly patched the hole with several collapsible sheets of metal and some fast-stick epoxy. To Conary, it felt like they were sealing them in a tomb.
"Okay guys," He whispered hoarsely. "Show time."