Far away, in another part of Jump City, from another tall building on the opposite end of town, someone else was watching the sun set as well. High up, on the topmost floor of one of the largest building's in Jump City, Wilson Enterprises. A prominent and powerful company that's influence stretched throughout the city, working with security teams and systems. They were those who protected others from harm.
And that was just their public front. The one portrayed on the news, that the average voter, fat and stupid, rarely bothered to question. It was a paper-thin mask, however, to their true goals. Which was assassination. Just as a company might ask for security to keep out their competition, so might they ask for their competition to be taken out. Wilson Enterprises was the face behind the mask, an organization that, for the right price (a fairly high one too) would eliminate your enemies. Always they died. The assassins of Wilson Enterprises... never failed.
All this did one girl contemplate as she stood before a large clear window, peering out at the sunset, her bright blue eyes narrow with anger and hatred. Directed not towards the sun, but to the city it illuminated. Filled with people she despised.
A pretty young girl, no older than nineteen, with long, flowing white hair the color of snow. Her features are faintly oriental, her eyes wide and dark, a blue like the oceans that someone could easily drown inside. Her body is lithe, slender, and shapely, her fingertips coming to delicate nails. Her hair was done up in a delicate bun atop her head, held in place by two black chopsticks, though a few strands fell loose around her ears and forehead. She was dressed in a crisp business suit, black as pitch, and a single pin was tucked into the pocket of her jacket, bearing the initials RW. Her shoes were arched heel-heels but on the shortish side, and they made a pleasant, rhythmic click as she walked.
Finally, the sun had completely set. And the girl, having waited for just such a signal, strode out of her office and toward the elevator, the steel doors sliding aside to accommodate her quick, precise steps. They shut behind her with a pleasant 'ding.' She reached down as if to push a button for her desired floor, but instead reached up and past the buttons and opened a secret compartment just above them, with a key slot and a dull, inert button marked 'Executives.' Smirking, she drew out the pin from her jacket and slid it's precisely designed tip into place, turning it and lighting up the key, then pressing it. She then replaced the key and slid the pin back into place.
Wilson Enterprises was like a cake, she thought with a sense of perverse delight. The icing was their public face... security. Known by the majority of the world. The first layer, more well known, was assassins. Or rather, one assassin, she thought dryly. About six hundred people, at most, in the entire world knew about that. And the next layer down, not even the executives on her board knew about. The most deepest and darkest of secrets in her company. And, indeed, all the world. Of the people who knew that secret, there were only five. And she was one of them.
The elevator dropped down, down, down, far below the streets of Jump City, below the parking garage with the high-priced cars her employees drove to and from their office jobs. Down below the sewers of Jump City, foul with the poisons of a corrupt and selfish people. Far, far below the surface of the earth, until finally it came to a stop, and with a soft 'ding' the door slid open, and the girl stepped out, striding again down the hallways with little hesitation.
The hallways were darker here, black and tinged with orange rust. The air was thick with it, though she'd hired the best team possible to try and ventilate the catacombs she used as their headquarters. Perhaps she shouldn't have slain them after they were done. But then again, she wouldn't want anyone to know about them. The world was not yet ready.
But soon... very soon... they would be.
Passing by one door that was sealed closed, a muffled explosion came from the other side, a sound that perked her interest, raising a snow-white eyebrow as she took a moment to tap the control beside the door and let it slide open.
Inside was still another, far different room, one pure white. Pristine, really. It was a big, white, empty space, covered in hexagonal squares on the floor in a zig-zagging slash of blue stripes that stretched up along the walls and to the ceiling. Interspersed every so often on the floor were some large white columns of various lengths, some extending all the way to the ceiling. All in all, it was a rather faithful replica of the HIVE academy training gym, and she was rather pleased.
The place had been updated, of course, with only the latest technology her company could afford. And considering they could afford their very own Watchtower up in space, should they choose, they could afford the very best indeed.
A second explosion filled the near-silence of the training room, and a bright violet light lit up the previously white walls as the girl inclined her head, glancing down to the opposite end of the room. Where, just as she'd expected, two combatants were busy engaging one another in a private little battle. Both in mid-air, flying with no sort of jetpacks or gliders. Aliens or metahumans then, able to lift themselves into the sky with only a thought and the power of their will. The first one zipped in and out between the columns, letting the other chase after her.
She was a girl of almost the same age as the mysterious bystander, of a delicate and refined build with pretty features, but there any similarities ended. This girl was black-haired and richly tanned of skin, as opposed to the almost colorless pale skin and white hair of the observer. Her eyes were as bright as shining amethysts, glowing with inner power... literally. She was clad in a dark lavender skirt and tube top of alien design, and a pair of steel gauntlets and boots covered in runes, exposing a lot of her healthy orange skin. A series of blue slashes had been tattooed into her skin, two right below her eyes, two along her bare shoulders, and another four slicing vertically across her stomach. Her hands were filled with lavender fire.
Behind her zipped a smaller form, similar but red-haired and green-eyed, dressed in bright purples. It was Starfire, the Teen Titan.
The white-haired girl didn't even start, didn't seem the least bit surprised to find a Titan in her fortress, despite the Titan's being their sworn enemies. No, there was more to this than met the eye. And she was proved right as the dark-haired girl spun on her fire-haired attacker and let loose a blast of violet energy, which slammed hard into the girl and exploded on contact, sending pieces of her falling to the floor. The head, in particular, rolled along the smooth white tiles to come to a stop by the white-haired girl's booted foot. Below the neck, not blood and flesh beneath the skin, but cords and chips, covered in blackish oil. A combat drone, artfully disguised by a hard-light illusion.
The white-haired girl quirked an eyebrow as she glanced up at the black-haired one, who hovered nearby, panting slightly from her exertions. Even from here, the sweat on her forehead was visible, and underneath that heavy armor and leather couldn't have been much cooler.
"Interesting choice, Blackfire," remarked the girl, kicking the Starfire-drone's head away.
"It'll do," replied the former Princess of Tamaran, folding her arms across her chest and frowning lightly. "But I'd prefer the real thing."
Up close, the runes on the Tamaranian Princess's fingerless gauntlets were more easily read, to those who understood Tamaranian. Power. Fire. Dominion. A similar set of runes were marked across her wide steel belt.
"Patience," replied her white-haired counterpart. "You have waited and trained for the past five years for revenge. Surely you can wait another week."
Blackfire smirked wickedly, nodding. "Mmmhmmmmm," she purred. "Chang's really made himself useful," she admitted.
"Ah, always a pleasure to serve such pretty little girls," intoned a third voice as the aforementioned Chang joined the conversation. A pale, almost sickly individual, Dr. Chang was somewhere in his elderly years but his mind was still amazingly sharp. Due to a risk of infection he was always clad in a pale gray bio-suit, preventing all but the lower part of his face and his hands from being seen. His eyes were a red behind the black goggles covering the top of his head.
"Well I don't know what you did but I am impressed," commented Blackfire, casually lifting a hand and blasting off a lavender starbolt, blasting clear through a column with little effort. And two more beside it. Each with only slightly less power than a cruise missile. And only with a small fraction of her power.
"Ah, a simple matter of using the yellow sunlight beams to enhance your power," remarked Chang, without thought launching into a more complicated explanation. "I have long theorized that the Tamaranian powers shown in you and your sister, as a result of the Psions experiments, allow for the absorption and channeling of such energy in the form of your starbolts. And, given what I've seen so far, it increases with both age, practice, and exposure to the light. It is simply a matter of upping the dosage of yellow light, pushing you to your absolute limit," he remarked. "In fact, I daresay, in a year or two more you'll likely have more power than a Green Lantern. Though I would oh so love to have a chance to see one of those pretty rings for myself to be certain..."
"You'll get your chance, Chang," interrupted the white-haired girl. Instantly Chang shushed, bowing his head respectfully before her, a girl less than a quarter of his age.
Because they both knew, and Blackfire did as well, that the slip of a girl could kill Chang in an instant if he was out of line. Wisely, the aged scientist bowed and made a hasty exit, back to his machines. They served the white-haired girl's plans for now, so she put up with Chang. But in truth, she didn't like him much. He was overly ambitious and poorly equipped to see out those ambitions. A bad combination. For it tended to make him reckless. His disastrous attack on Jump City six years ago had been a prime example of that. Still, working for his new masters and being given all the facilities and zinothium he could want was making him a most loyal drone. His yellow sunlight beams, which Blackfire used to sunbathe in between combat training sessions, were but a single example of his technological use to their organization.
"Do carry on Blackfire, I wouldn't want to keep you from your training," said the white-haired girl, giving a respectful bow. Blackfire didn't return it, she'd already flew up into the air and waited for more Starfire attack drones to come at her. And she'd keep going until she was worn to the bone, then rest and sunbathe in yellow sunlight, then go back at it. It had been a routine for her the past year or so. And before that, if the white-haired girl understood correctly, it had been seeking out alien martial arts masters, training in hostile environments, and trying to recruit armies of alien fleets and soldiers. The first two had been a success, the third had been a spectacular failure. Though the warrior race from Galanga had at least been kind enough to acknowledge Blackfire's prowess, and had gifted her with the blue slash tattoos now adorning her body.
Though in a sense, she should be thankful Blackfire's efforts had failed. It had led Blackfire back to Earth alone, and it had forced her to accept the girl's offer to join them.
Leaving behind the training room, she continued on her way. She was late, but important people never rushed. Lesser people would wait for her. On the other hand, if anyone dared keep her waiting, she'd make them regret it.
So it was that the white-haired girl stepped inside her private office, in truth more of a changing room than anything else, and opened a locker hang on the wall, containing her... proper... clothing. And then, the much larger locker opposite it... containing her weapons.
When next the white-haired girl emerged into a meeting room across the hall, she'd undergone a transformation that, had others not witnessed the difference before, would not have been able to contact the sweet business executive and the hard-as-nails mercenary before them. Her business clothes had been exchanged for a spandex bodysuit of the darkest navy blue, almost jet black, and clung to her like a second skin, emphasizing the shapely curves of her lithe body. An iron belt was slung across her hips at a hazardous angle, containing a number of tinier compartments and bearing a striking resemblance to the utility belts worn by a certain collection of individuals who lived in a cave. Her boots were a similar gray metallic color, also containing sharp, high heeled spikes. Strapped to her back were a pair of twin katana's, Japanese curved blades, in steel gray sheaths. A stylized dull orange 'R' was stitched into her suit just above her left breast.
Her white hair was down, flowing freely about her neck and shoulders now, and a dull orange mask had been wrapped around the top of her face, stretching from her cheeks to her forehead and covering little else. Her bright blue eyes poked out from some eyeholes in the mask.
Her every motion was confident as she emerged into the meeting room, making her way to the opposite end, to the very head of the table. From there, she could see any who entered, and her back would be safely protected by any trying to sneak up on her. Unless they were capable of phasing through solid stone, that is. A possibility she had not overlooked. Here, in the heart of their headquarters, they were perfectly safe. The walls were lined with lead, and the outermost layer was protected by a resonating force-shield that prevented those capable of phasing from passing through it. Even the Justice League, short of leading a full scale invasion, would be unable to breach their fortress. And they didn't even knew it existed.
At the table, sitting on the right side of the table were two members of her organization, though in truth they needed no introduction. They all knew precisely who one another were. Brother Blood met her gaze, bold yet respectful. Deathfang lowered his head, not willing to meet her gaze. He never could, not in his human form. He had little spine, but he was useful to the organization. Just like Chang.
"Gentlemen," she stated, beginning the meeting. They were a member short, but Blackfire would not be needed for this particular gathering. Better she train and become stronger. "I trust everything went according to plan?"
Brother Blood gave a smirk. "Sebastian the Seventh is no more," he promised, holding up the item they'd retrieved. "Both the police and the Titans are none-the-wiser. By tomorrow, they should find his remains, but they won't find a shred of evidence about who killed him and why. Not even a clump of Deathfang's fur."
Deathfang frowned but said nothing, not appreciating the insult.
She allowed a smirk to grace her lips. "Good. How long until it can be uploaded into the database?"
"Shouldn't take more than two hours."
"Excellent news. Proceed then. Deathfang," she said, her soft voice as good as the crack of a whip. His head shot up in an instant. "Get some rest. We'll be needing you soon."
"Yes, yes ma'am," stuttered out Deathfang. She waved him away, and he all but scurried out of the room. His quarters were a short way down the corridor, since his public alias, Adonis, was still the subject of a city-wide manhunt for escaping from jail.
When he was left, Blood and the girl shared a smirk. For they were the true power of Tartarus. An organization built specifically to destroy the Teen Titans and take control of Jump City. So named by their leader (who'd studied a great deal of Greek myths in her youth) after the mythological prison that had held the Greek Titans. The fact that their fortress was located deep beneath the earth, not unlike the mythological prison, had been unintended but deliciously ironic all the same. And most suitable. Tartarus had been busy in the past few years, working in the shadows, preparing for the day they would meet, and beat, the Titans in combat.
They were almost ready. Already they had a suitable force, with strengths to counterbalance the Titans own, but they needed several more key components to come to place first. "Uploaded the program, Blood," she commanded, pushing the plotting in her mind aside for later. "Then find the specifics we need. I will handle the Titans in the meantime. It's time we had a little... field exercise for our Tartarus soldiers."
"Understood," he replied, rising and giving her a courtly, respectful bow from the waist. "It shall be as you command... Ravager."
The Ravager's grin grew wider. Everything was falling into place.
Blood took his leave, departing to work the computers and download the memories, now in the form of files, onto the computers. So they could access a critical element in their plans. But the Ravager wasn't worried. They'd planned for everything. Idly, she lifted up her legs and pushed off the desk, letting her chair spin around like a little child, letting it swivel around to face the back wall. Idly, her finger tapped a control on the armrest, and the wall lit up, as it was, in actuality, a video screen.
And on the video screen, a recorded battle was taking place. Between four super-powered teens and three super-powered brats. Unsurprisingly, the Titans had won their battle against the HIVE operatives. But each battle recorded, a little more of their strengths and weaknesses came to light. Know thy enemy and know thyself, her mentor had taught her. It was a lesson she'd learned well. When the time came, the Titans would be well known by their enemies... but Tartarus was moving, training, preparing all in secret. The Titans would not know them, would not be ready for them. And they would fall.
The images changed to another battle, and the Ravager clicked another button, freeze-framing on the image of one Titan in particular, who had just given a vicious kick that had sent his opponent flying. Robin. The Titan's leader. Ravager smirked wickedly, clicking her tongue against her teeth.
Oh yes. She had something special in mind for him.
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Author's Notes:
In case none have yet made the connection, Wilson Enterprises is the company of Slade Wilson, known in the comics as Deathstroke the Terminator, a professional assassin. The DC Universe's best, in fact, Deadshot falling into a close second. The true identify of the white-haired oriental girl I'll leave a mystery for now, but no doubt a good many have already figured out exactly who she is. Ideally, I'd have her voiced by Lucy Liu, who proves she can be a good voice actress as well as the regular kind. Katergator was kind enough to provide me with a fan art of the Ravager (our shared vision of her animated form, at least) and the futuristic Blackfire and you can see them both at her deviant art website (where she is known as ChocolateOverlander). Blackfire's blue slash tattoos originate from Dragonblond's 'One Thousand Words' story, as do the alien race from Galanga. Dr. Chang comes primarily from 'X' but also surfaces briefly in 'Titan's East, both parts' with no dialogue. Here, he voices aloud my ideas about my thoughts concerning (animated at least) starbolt capabilities. Tartarus was an actual anti-Titan organization in the comics (named for the same reasons as above) but none of their comic members will be showing up. Vandal Savage and Gorilla Grodd both said they'd love to, but were busy tied up in justice League Unlimited work at the moment and couldn't spare the time. Next time: The Titans, oblivious to their approaching doom, spending a relaxing day doing what each enjoys most.
Yomiori-Wolfdemon: Why thank you. Best gift I've ever received. It's a plenty good episode, Deception, as is most of season three, and I totally hope you see them soon, as a lot of the elements of my story draw influence from them. I'll try and keep you and others informed as best I can.
Ultimate R-Man: Really, I rather enjoy the Jericho-villain angle. Trying to save others from going what he went through. I do hope you enjoyed my surprise Wilson-angle-twist. Almost no one saw it coming. I agree, comic Blood, the cultist, would never work in a kid's show, but a psycho Headmaster for an evil brainwashed school worked rather well.
TDG3RD: I intend to. Thanks for the review. Anything in particular you liked/disliked?
Seth-Turtle: There's your main story for ya. I'm even going to go against my usual style of keeping the villains in the shadows with no names or faces plotting obscurely. No, this time they get as much screentime as the Titans.
Todd fan: So could I. But go figure. Nobody ever said the government was smart.
Pnaixrose: You'll see. I do tend to do a lot of research into the Titans, animated and comic, in order to make my stories as detailed as possible. A fun game I tend to play with myself is to see how many comic nods I can fit into a story. Stopping a story? Ha. Only if I don't get reviews from people reading it. Never gonna happen.
Ray1: Being stuck in jail can lead you very easily to blame the person who put you in there. Still, I try to be fair to all characters in my stories and I won't let it end for Jinx or Cyborg quite that miserably. Just you wait and see.
ViciousAssassin: Glad you enjoyed the battle. I tossed it in mostly to buy myself some time and to keep everyone from being bored, and also to showcase the closet thing the Titans have had to a supervillain team enemy in the HIVE trio. As a comparison to Tartarus later on, in a sense. As for the celebration, I won't say. My lips are shut. In Secret Origins I did indeed mention Slade's son Grant Wilson, his eldest. He died, just as he did in the comics, and Slade blamed the Titans. As you can see above, I took a different angle.
Blackbird: By the pricking of my thumb, something wicked this way comes. Heh. You'll just have to wait and see. Sorry to hear about your OC, but take it as a compliment. It means you think along the same lines as the show's creators! I felt the same when I destroy Rae's swimsuit in 'All Wet' and they did the same thing to her uniform in 'Birthmark.'
Elrohirthewriter: Maybe a little, but not much, sorry. Got different plans for Cyborg than the good-guy-bad-girl relationship. Brother Blood, it is. I do hope you enjoy what's to come, it may shock you.