Ch 4 intro: This chapter is really just a kind of supporting adjunct to the next one, which is one hell of an action/drama roller coaster, if I do say so myself. Read and enjoy as everyone prepares for the story to kick off in earnest.
[C-brackets indicate mental dialogue]
"Italics are thoughts"
"Italics that are dialogue between people are telepathy"
Chapter 4: Prelude
Downtown Jump City, the day after the IHOB incident
"I don't see why's it's me he thinks he can boss around," muttered Blue under his breath. The source of his consternation was the most recent task White had sent him off on. It was apparently his job to take care of the city's super-champion-toddlers, possibly the most insulting task he could conceivably have been delegated. It spoke volumes about how little White thought of Blue's unique talents, and that he considered him the least of all the conspirators, his abilities to be wasted on a job he was massively overqualified for. Of course, Blue wasn't quite sharp enough to understand all of this as such.
"Why's it me that's gotta do dis mucky job? The others didn't get no mucky murder jobs when dey wuz divvy'n up the ocil...ocslligem...oscil-li-gem-erator's work list. Me n' my muscles don't get bossed around. We's the ones that duz the bossin. We never let anybody boss us around in the old days, dat's for sure," continued Blue's nonstop, low-key, chattering as he strode slowly through the crowded streets.
"O'course, the old days is gone for reason," the treasonous thought crept into Blue's cheesecake-like mind as if spoken by someone else. He grimaced as bitter memories of his capture flooded back to him, galling him to no end. The IDP patrol fleet had caught up to him in subspace as he fled the scene of the Rigalop IV massacre/robbery. He hadn't necessarily meant to kill all those people, but they just didn't make vaults the way they used to. How was he supposed to know that ripping the whole thing out of the wall would bring down the office building? It didn't really matter, as he managed to drag the vault out of the rubble, then all the way to his ship, but that was the easy part of the getaway. When he tried to skip out in the new trans-dimensional space drive that shifty little lizard (Rigalopians are reptile-people) of a Rigalopian black marketeer had sold him, the IDP were on him in moments. They disabled his ship and put him in stasis before he ever had a chance to use his beautiful muscles on them. The next thing he knew he was standing trial in plasma-chains and was imprisoned without delay after a quick conviction.
"Workin alone doesn't pay anymore I guess," thought a thoroughly depressed Blue as he grew ever nearer to his destination, "'specially when yur and idjit."
Glancing to his left for no particular reason, he saw a hugely-built, angular-jawed, vacant-looking human man staring back at him out of a mirrored window. He started slightly in surprise, knocking a man walking near him clear across the street. With a quiet "SWAP!" and a strangled scream, the man landed in an open dumpster. People around just kept on walking like they hadn't noticed anything strange.
After a moment's consternation over why he didn't look like himself, it dawned on Blue that he had been told about this already. When White had been setting him up with the gear he would need to stay under the IDP's radar (The IDP kept up extensive, dimension-wide scans for the biorhythms and power signatures of wanted criminals) he had told him that the treatment in his machine would not only alter those things the IDP searched for, but also allow him to walk in the human world "relatively inconspicuously". Blue just hadn't thought the cosmetic effect would be so...dramatic.
"I look like wunna dees apes!" he said rather loudly to himself as he stared at his reflection.
"You can say that again buddy," commented a random passerby from the crowd.
Ignoring the peanut gallery, Blue took in the rest of his new body piece by piece. His arms were as huge as ever, he was glad to note, totally ripped and easily twice the diameter and length of normal human ones. He was seven feet tall, with a huge barrel chest that supported his enormous arms, thinning out at his waist so suddenly that he looked like a triangle of pure muscle sitting on a smaller man's legs. His face didn't really suit the tastes of his species, although the long angular features of a 30-something man and a bowl-cut for his blond hair that recalled Moe from the three stooges wouldn't really have appealed to any species.
"Oh well, I guess dis isn't gonna do itself " thought Blue with resignation. "White said to just begin bustin up da place and da brats would show up in no time... (he remembers how much fun busting stuff up is) hmm, maybe dis job'll have some perks after all."
Grinning his stupidly malicious grin now, Blue looked around for a place to start his rampage...
Titans Tower, two minutes later
The sudden blaring of alarm sirens interrupted another otherwise peaceful afternoon in the big "T." As is usually the case with such things, the Titans were caught in various stages of whatever tasks they were up to. Robin and Beast Boy were sitting in front of the huge-screen dueling away at a fighting game, shouting taunts and threats at each other while they jerked and fidgeted in the face of the game's spectacular graphics. Starfire was standing to one side of the room, absorbed alternatively with watching the guys pummel each other and constructing something incredibly intricate-looking from string and a metal hoop. Raven nestled into a corner near the back of the room, partially protected from the incredible noise of the video game, and read from a plain brown hardback that was probably poetry. Finally, Cyborg had just finished grilling himself a two-pound slab of prime sirloin and was currently seasoning it to perfection. Beast Boy had been tormenting him with condemnations intended to spoil his enjoyment, but Cyborg wasn't about to miss a second of that grease-dripping chop of heaven. (Also, Beast Boy had been discouraged from taking his eye off the game after Robin had connected with an instant kill during Beast Boy's most recent guilt-glare session against Cyborg.)
So it was that after the alarm went off, several things happened nearly simultaneously. First off, the sound startled Starfire so much that she ripped her craft project in half, ruining her first attempt at a "gebrog" (kind of woven tea-cozy) depicting the Titans all together in a smiling (except for Raven) group. Robin jumped up from the game immediately, hopping over the couch and pulling out his Titans communicator as it began to describe the problem. Beast Boy, seeing his opening, used his instant kill move on Robin's wide-open character, saving his wounded pride at the Boy Wonder's earlier cheap shot. Cyborg, a tear in his human eye, wrapped his massive, piping-hot steak in tin foil and threw it into the microwave in the hopes that the conflict would be quickly resolved. Raven merely stood silently and book-marked her spot, moving calmly and quickly toward Robin, as did the others.
"Titans, someone is busting up downtown," he said matter-of-factly, as the group gathered around him. "Let's show this guy why that's never a good idea."
High Earth Orbit, the same time.
In an astrological event that wouldn't show up on any radar, telescope, or listening device Earth could boast, the Aurora shifted out of Subspace. With some mildly flashy effects, a tear appeared in the fabric of space, obscuring the stars with a portal to a realm of chaotic color. This portal quickly spewed forth a gleaming silver space bird, it's tail of burning blue flaring brilliantly before dying out. Behind the Aurora, the rift closed of its own accord, and the craft was left floating in the void above the gleaming blue and green jewel of life that was Earth.
"Skye, we made it," said Vera, as soon as she was sure of their realspace coordinates. "So now what?"
"Now, I'm going to try and figure out why I keep getting that feeling of mine, and you are going to plot the most energy efficient way of landing us," responded a very calm and collected Skye. He was leaning far back in his chair, a clear signal to Vera that he, or at least his mind, would be someplace else very soon.
As soon as she was sure that Skye was out of body, Vera took an opportunity to do something that she had wanted to do for quite a while now.
"So, Mr. Special Agent man, how does it feel to be working with the number one graduate of the AI evolution class of 22-0485? I know, I know, I have had combat experience on ten of the fleet's best ships, and, oh yes, I was the number one candidate on the list to graduate up to the special corvette service, but please, don't let that intimidate you. No, I'm a very modest construct—everybody tells me so! In fact, I would be glad to scan the system for anomalous activity and save you the trouble... IF I HAD THE ENERYG LEFT! BUT NOOO, we had to be there YESTERDAY! I swear that if there IS trouble here and I'm damaged because YOU cut us off from backup, then I will personally haunt you until the very last universe has collapsed in on itself!"
Skye's motionless body lay still and took Vera's verbal abuse without complaint. "Somehow, that wasn't as satisfying as I thought it would be," mused the now silent Vera as she gazed at the young man's prone form. For some reason that she really couldn't place, even now at the edge of their patrol area, cut off from support, barely enough power left to land, unknown dangers lying in wait, she really couldn't be that angry at her new commander. Sure he was curt, and working for him was thankless, but he projected such an aura of confidence and collected competence that she couldn't help but be similarly confident with him in command.
The man was a marvel really, she decided after a moment's contemplation. He never tried to tell her what her job was, he never tired to do her tasks over again to make sure they were right, and he never ever treated her like a machine. He trusted her to do her job, and do it well—on the first try. It was actually refreshing, she supposed, to have such a trusting partner for once. Vera could only remember in horror her maiden voyage on P-R-3049 (patrol forces, recon unit, ship 3049), where the crew had actually insisted on piloting all but the simplest maneuvers MANUALLY! Attitudes like that got people, and AI's, killed, and she was really damn glad that she had a levelheaded and talented agent with her. Now, if only he'd stop being such a frost-king/asshole about his orders, she might be able to live with it (maybe even enjoy it).
Vera was brought out of her deep thoughts by Skye's next command.
"Vera," he said, having never moved from his astral-projection posture, "I have a strong feeling that I need to be in Jump City as soon as possible. I'm going to prepare an extended field kit, I need you to set up the Aurora to land in the ocean near these coordinates, divert power from all other systems—including life support—to charge the teleporter, then program it with these coordinates. We'll be going on foot from there."
His commands clearly listed, his coordinates double-checked, and the process of landing begun, Skye back flipped out of his fully horizontal reclining position and dashed into the next room to begin outfitting himself. While he was off the bridge, Vera went through the list of tasks and set them all up over the course of the next half instant, leaving her with some time during which her entire world was limited to the reach of the few cameras that gave her vision inside the ship (because she had deactivated the sensors and whatnot, which were her true eyes and ears). Skye's activities were obscured with him inside the ship's modest but well-rounded armory, so that was of no help in occupying her. Sitting (figuratively) there bored, she was faced by the fact that there would be nothing for her to do but maintain ship's systems and watch the plasma cell recharge for the entire next stage of operations. Then she recalled the exact wording of Skye's last comment, and suddenly she became nervous in an entirely new way.
"What exactly did you mean by 'We will proceed on foot from there?'" she asked Skye as he walked back in from the armory.
"I meant what I said, that we'll be moving on foot after the teleporter insertion. Which reminds me, make sure you compensate for the exotic time-space distortion around here. The last thing I need is to arrive with my arm coming out of my ear."
"Compensate...?" began Vera, dumbfounded, "Skye you're talking about REMOVING ME FROM MY SHIP!"
"What?" was Skye's indifferent query, "haven't you ever been on an EVA mission?"
"EVA missions are for minor AIs! I don't leave the ship Skye! I mean, anything could happen out there! No armor, no plasma cannons, no engines, I won't have any way to protect myself!"
"Two things," he began, never changing the indifference in his tone, "first of all, you won't have those things on the ship while it's power-dead on the bottom of the ocean either. Second, you'll be riding on my implant hardware, which is surgically grafted to my nervous system, which is with me at all times, which is exactly the safest place one could possibly be." He allowed some compassion to filter into his voice before finishing with, "So chill, I need your help with data management, and at least that's something to do, as opposed to waiting on standby in what will soon be a dead ship."
Facing the fact that she couldn't deny his words and stunned by the incredible frankness and strength in her partner's voice, Vera accepted his orders in the most meaningful way she knew how. With a whirring sound and a slight pop, the solid tri-tanium (really hard, really expensive metal) cylinder that contained her core-programming chip emerged from the floor of the bridge between the command chair and the main screen. With the utmost dignity, Skye opened some pannels, entered a series of codes, and was granted a view of one of the multiverse's most advanced pieces of computer technology. The nanochip containing Vera's core program was about the length and width of a matchbox, and about the thickness of a few complex macromolecules. It's intricacies had the appearance of woven orange sugar, comprising the single most expensive and technologically advanced piece of micro-fine data storage technology ever manufactured by conscious beings. Skye could crash his ship a million times, and he still wouldn't have lost as much money's worth of IDP equipment as he would if he were to snap Vera's core chip in half. This being the case, he trusted her to do a better job of her extraction than he ever could.
Placing his head into the specially designed position in her cylinder's base, Skye lowered his jacket and pulled back his shirt's collar, exposing the pale white flesh at the base of his neck. With a disconcerting sensation, an imperceptibly small slice opened in the base of his neck between the major bones, and he was ready. Vera took one last gasp of sensation from her few active ship sensors and steeled herself against the sensory deprivation that accompanied transfer. With a supremely fast and precise motion, a tiny robotic arm removed Vera from the ship's terminal and placed her into Skye's spinal implant.
[Eeeeeeeaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!] came the stifled scream directly into Syke's mind. Knowing exactly what had happened, he took immediate action.
[VERA!] he projected into his own mind, as if her were trying to recall data from his internal computer. [VERA YOU'VE GOT TO ACCEPT THE INTEFACE!]
[NO! NO NONONONONONONONONONONON!] was the response of her mind, contracting in an eternal data loop.
[DO IT NOW!] he shouted back stubbornly, prodding her with a series of override commands until he had forced her sensory subroutines into alignment with the proper connections in his implant. As soon as sight and sound were returned to her, the scream stopped, and was replaced with a small whimpering sound. That too died out eventually, and was replaced by Vera's regular and collected self.
[What just happened?] she asked Skye with a cool anger in her tone.
[Your core Ego rejected my implant's interfaces. The feedback from the imperfect connections had you trapped for a moment. I knew what to do because the exact same thing happened the first time I tried to bring aboard Alice for her first EVA mission.]
[Alice?] questioned Vera, before she realized that that must have been Skye's previous AI support agent.
[I figured that your newer chip model wouldn't have the same problem, I'm sorry for not warning you.]
[AND YOU SHOUD BE!] came Vera's suddenly furious voice. [I can't believe you wouldn't mention something you knew might be a problem! I could have been erased!]
[I'm sorry,] was Skye's sincere apology. Vera wasn't done yet though, and sought more vents for her delayed-effect panic and anger.
[And for that matter,] she continued to rave, [when was the last time you defragmented down here? This place is a mess!]
[Umm, Sorry for that too?] was Skye's suddenly confused apology to this newest complaint. He was saved further 'internal conflict' by Vera's very responsible decision to take out the rest of her frustration by whipping his internal databanks into shape, giving him an annoying tingling sensation along his spine in the process. When she had finished a moment later, she was calm again.
[Okay, that's better,] she said in her normal tone. [Now if you don't mind, we're already halfway down to the ocean, so could we please put this whole thing behind us and move on?]
[Fine by me,] Skye responded, already doing a last check of his equipment. On an undercover operation like this, it was important to make sure that no one knew he represented the IDP. To do otherwise would mean violating intergalactic treaties that even he wasn't immune to. So it was that he was equipped with a bare minimum of weaponry and gadgets. Even with only his power gauntlets, service-standard energy blaster, and palm infiltration computer, he felt more than a little conspicuous. "Then again," he thought, "on a planet with as many super-beings as earth, I should be able to pass them off as fancy gadgets." All this and more he had to convince Vera of before she would consent to activating the teleporter without him wearing at least as much combat armor as her previous body, the ship, had possessed.
After the brief disorientation of being transferred though space, Skye found himself standing in a grove of trees, breathing air contaminated with all kinds of foreign odors, and loving every moment of it. It always felt good to be out in the real world after a multi-month/year stretch on sterile spacecraft and space stations. The feel of real trees around him, along with the easy secrecy, were the two reasons Skye had picked the Jump City Park as his insertion point. After taking a few deep breaths of genuine Earth air, Skye began his search for the great threat that he was quite sure had taken up residence on HIS planet. A moment's consideration set his course as directly toward wherever those explosions were coming from.
Preview: Okay ladies and gentlemen, the moment you've all been waiting for has finally arrived... almost. This next chapter is ABSOLUTLY not to be missed, as it marks this series' blast off into serious action and drama. No more building tension, no more exposition of characters, all information in the next chapter will come with a coating of destruction, violence, and a little gore too. Tune in now for: The Blue Lament of Battle.