Standard disclaimers apply.

PATH TO TAMARAN

Chapter Two – Eyes Wide Open

Starfire palmed the discman beside her and sought the stop button. While she liked listening to Black Eyed Peas the last four times, a fifth time was a bit much, even for her.

With the abrupt silence, a distinct ringing sound began to echo in her ears. She plucked out her ear phones and wiggled a finger in her ear irritably before she went back to reading her Braille-format book.

Eventually, the ringing stopped, but the quiet thundered in her consciousness.

Frustrated, she leaned her head back on the lounge seat and sighed, tapping her finger idly on the surface of her book.

She was so bored.

After the operation, the doctors had expected her to stay in the medical facility for the rest of her convalescence, but that night, after having spent an entire day keeping her company, Robin had to absolutely go back to the tower. He didn't tell her exactly why; evading her questions by saying she had nothing to worry about except recovering.

She wanted to be spoiled and petulant, but she resisted the urge bravely and wished him safe. The following day, she had been bored enough to get out of bed and walk around with her I.V. unit until a scientist caught her and sent her back to bed. It didn't take long before she got out of bed again.

When Bruce Wayne came by at lunch to see how she was doing, she had been missing from her room. Everyone went into a panic, mainly because they knew she was Bruce Wayne's and Dick Grayson's special concern, and losing her wouldn't please either. It was Dr. Leeman who found her in the pediatrics wing. She was seated comfortably on the colorful, rubber mats with a child perched on her lap. The child was struggling valiantly to read a fairy tale from a book, and while anyone who saw Starfire might have thought she was merely humoring the child by patiently bearing the painstakingly told tale, Starfire was, in fact, fascinated with the story of the talking frog who claimed to be an enchanted prince.

Extracting her from child and book, Dr. Leeman scolded her gently, telling her that Bruce Wayne was there and that she "… simply cannot keep a beautiful man like him waiting! Didn't they teach you that in Tamaran? I swear to God, child, you're queerer than I am!"

The moment Dr. Leeman ushered her back into her room, dextrose pole in tote, Bruce Wayne said, "I think you could do the rest of your waiting in the Wayne Manor."

So Bruce Wayne took her back to the mansion and while she was much more comfortable lying on a Zero Gravity mattress and citrus scented pillows, there wasn't much else to do in the mansion except walk around and find a good place to lounge. She spent many hours trying to keep herself occupied and when she had ran out of ideas, she spent the rest of the hours missing Robin. She ached to call him, but she forbore. Robin didn't like interruptions while he was working. If he weren't busy, she was sure he would call her.

Three days after the operation, she anxiously awaited the afternoon for her "unveiling". Having woken up at five in the morning, there were many hours until then. She had elected to spend her time reading a book while she listened to some music by the indoor pool.

To make her feel comfortable, Alfred had brought her some cappuccino. He told her he would be making cookies while he waited for the breakfast chef to arrive, and that maybe he could bring some cookies over once they were baked. She wished she could help him; it was something productive and it would certainly pass the time, but baking was not something one with her impairment could undertake. The risk of getting burned was too great; never mind that she risked a lot more when she fought super-villains. Alfred adamantly refused to let her near the hot pans and ovens. She suspected it had more to do with the ruined soufflés the last time she had tried to help him.

But of course, two hours later, the idea of reading the time away no longer seemed as brilliant as she initially thought.

Setting the book aside, she pulled her knees up to her chest, leaned her chin on them and sighed. She couldn't even take a dip in the pool. The doctors had told her the chlorine might get in her eyes and irritate it. She didn't feel like risking it. It might make her recovery take even longer; or worse, it might ruin everything.

It got her thinking momentarily about her questions regarding the star bolts from her eyes. She had asked the doctors if she would be able to use them again. She was glad they were frank in their reply.

"We don't know," said one scientist. "We discovered from the results of your past tests that the filter protecting your retina and macula from the heat produced by your star bolts were damaged when the trauma occurred. Our theory was that the filter had blood-vessels in them that burst under the pressure of the hit. You must have fired a bolt after the damage occurred thus scorching your retina and macula, then subsequently damaging the entire apparatus that produced the bolts. While your brain might still know how to do it, your biological equipment was shot. Hopefully, our efforts to repair that filter and 'bolt generators' would give us good results. The bad news is that testing to see if it worked could pose a great risk. If the repair of the filters was flawed by even just a bit—well, you'll damage your eyes again."

She was a bit disappointed at the thought that she may never be able to use her bolts again, but she was quick to recover from that disappointment. It was a small compromise for the return of her sight.

She heard the door open and she turned her head slightly towards the sound. She assumed it was Alfred bringing cookies. She smiled wanly, placing her chin back down on her knees. "Thank you, Alfred, but you should have just called me over the intercom. I would have gone to the kitchen myself."

There was a chuckle. "Alfred doesn't do that sort of thing if he could help it."

Robin's voice was music to Starfire's ears. She smiled broadly and she felt him sit beside her on the lounge chair. After exchanging tender and intimate hellos, Starfire felt it well within her rights to pout.

"Uh oh," said Robin in response to her expression. "I got in trouble again, didn't I?"

"Hmph! What sent your running to Jump City that you could not tell me? I did not want to be 'a pest' by insisting, but now that you are back and I have been bored to death for the last two days, I demand for an answer!"

"You missed me, didn't you?"

Starfire scowled. She could tell he found this all amusing and while on an ordinary day she would let herself fall for his charms, this wasn't an ordinary day and she had spent a lot of hours preparing herself for her boyfriend's evasive tactics. "You silly boy, of course I did! But that is not the point."

"It isn't? I could've sworn…" He began to employ his playful little seductions and for a few seconds, she lost her focus.

She stopped the smile that was creeping up the corners of her lips and turned her nose up haughtily. "That is not going to work, Richard."

"I just didn't want to worry you, that's all."

"Just tell me what it is."

He sighed. "Kai and Cron."

Her brows knotted, trying to make sense of what Robin said.

Centari police.

When the names registered, she gasped. "What? They have found my sister? They have—"

"They were looking for you. They suspected that you were harboring Blackfire."

Her jaw dropped and then her ire rose. "Well, no wonder Blackfire got away from them again. They are idiots!" She had had about enough of the Centari police trying to bring her in where Blackfire was involved. She was usually very forgiving, but two days of boredom had raked at her good humor.

"Since I didn't want them coming here to Gotham and bothering you, I went over there and cleared things up. Wasn't easy, but we managed to convince them you had nothing to do with Blackfire's escape from their prison. I was worried they'd be stubborn and head on over here anyway, but I figured that if they did, Batman wouldn't let anything happen to you."

She frowned at the mental image of Kai and Cron crashing through the Wayne Manor roof. Alfred would probably be as dignified as ever, telling them dryly that they could have used the front door.

Still, she couldn't totally understand why Robin hadn't told her about it. Certainly, the arrival of Kai and Cron was something that could worry her, but not that badly that he'd want to keep it secret from her.

"There's more," he said.

She knew then that this was the reason he tried to keep mum about the situation. His tone sent her stomach in knots.

"When Cyborg called me, he'd only just spotted Kai and Cron's plasma trail in space. I was in Jump City before they got to Earth; on their way here, their ship—well, Cyborg detected that something intercepted their signal."

Starfire's anxiety heightened. "Something?"

"Yeah. Whatever it was, it was just a slight interruption, but when we tracked its source—well, it was about twenty six light years away…"

The knot in Starfire's stomach thunked and she sighed. She did not want to think the worse of it. After all, intercepting a Centari craft's plasma trail bore little to no information about where they were headed. It was not something she should be overly worried about, but she couldn't help it.

For Robin's sake, she immediately began to downplay the situation. "Oh, well I would not worry about that. Besides, I have too many things on my mind right now. This afternoon, my bandages would be coming off. I am all nervousness and excitement."

Robin's hand rubbed her arm soothingly, though he said nothing. Perhaps he had detected that she was covering up her anxiety for his sake.

He, of all people, understood the need to keep emotions to ones self. As a leader of the Titans, he was very deliberate when it came to discussing emotions with his teammates. With Beast Boy, Raven and Cyborg, he would throw a line and leave it to them to take it, but when it came to her, he always made more of an effort to reach out. She appreciated his understanding of her. Always attuned to her sensibilities, she wasn't as clammed up as the others. She only kept to herself because the others were so reserved.

"Would it be so bad if your family found you?" he asked.

She let out a weary sigh. "I do not know anymore. I have spent the last eight years running away and I am almost certain that I have run myself out of the grand scheme of things in Tamaran. It probably would not matter, if they found me."

Then again, it may mean a world of things.

He was silent for a moment. "You left Tamaran when you were nine?"

Starfire could not help but give a slightly bitter laugh. "You could say that."

"Where did you go?"

She gave it some thought and realized that it still brought her pain to think about it. She could not help it; she was ashamed of sharing her history with Robin, not so much because of what she was, but more how she got that way. Did she have defective parents? Did that make her defective as well? Would Robin think them monsters? Was she ever deserving of what they had done to her and her sister?

Robin said that it did not matter what her parents and sister had done, that his love for her was based entirely on who she was, but the longer she was in Robin's confidence, the more she realized that family was terribly important to him. For all his assurances, her insecurities could not be quieted. How can one who believed in family so strongly not associate family members with each other?

Even if they hadn't discussed her family in more detail, she could tell that he still thought of her parents in a certain way, almost as if he believed that they probably weren't so bad. She could not blame him for being kinder in his opinion of them. He would be a lesser man if he thought badly of the ancestors of the woman he loved. To him, he loved the daughter; the ones who sired her couldn't possibly be awful.

She was not ready to share that history with him. "Everywhere," she replied vaguely. "I went everywhere." It was partly true.

Masters traveled all the time and brought most of the household with them.

He sighed. No doubt, he had detected her reluctance to go into more detail. "You had breakfast yet?"

She appreciated him for knowing when not to insist, too. His change of subject was certainly welcome. "No. Not yet."

"Then, come on. Breakfast at the Wayne Manor is always something to look forward to."

Starfire managed a smile as he took her hand and grabbed her other things. She got a hold of her walking stick and let Robin lead her out.

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What is the price of peace? Is it like a commodity weighed by its value in gold? Does it demand blood before the blood-letting could be stopped? Or perhaps blood is small change to go with the larger denomination that is the soul. Blood could be replenished; but the soul needs more, to recover. Sometimes, the soul is so damaged that it is broken forever.

The floor was hard; made of damp stone. Beneath her was a blanket of dirty linen, barely padded; and the lumps from the ground poked on every part of her body.

She looked out of the window from her make-shift bed and she saw the dark skies between the bars. She shifted, gritting her teeth against the discomfort. The chains on her wrists and ankles rattled; the subduing-collar around her neck beeping softly, but in the silence of the chamber, it rang loud in her ears.

Soft laughter rose from one of her chamber-mates; the elder one; female like the rest of them in the five-person cell. Male and female slaves were not allowed to sleep in one cell. The masters couldn't afford unnecessary breeding. The "grunts" as slave off-spring were called, were almost never allowed to live. Taking grunts away from their parents almost always resulted in bloodshed. It complicated matters; made things messy, and it cost more. Unruly slaves had to be killed to prevent uprisings, which meant a new slave had to be purchased. Overall, it was terribly inconvenient when a slave bred. Better to employ preventive measures, like separate barracks.

"You will get used to the hardness of the floor."

Starfire tried to remember the woman's name, attaching a face to it. Even if she could barely see in the darkness, she would like to be able to feel that even slaves had identities.

Xyannis had long brown hair that had waves rippling down its length. She had strong Kalapattian features and she wore her hair back with a strip of linen. She seemed frail of build; though that may have just been a result of periodic starvation.

"One gets used to this?" Starfire whispered. It didn't seem possible. It didn't seem possible that anyone could get used to any of it.

"When they have worked you to the bone, you will find that cot more comfortable than any soft bed you've ever slept on, princess."

Starfire gave a start. "H-How—"

"Oh, the Gordanian masters speak carelessly in our presence all the time. Sometimes they think we do not understand them, but mostly, they just don't consider us significant enough to worry about. This afternoon, they were all talk about the crown princess of Tamaran."

Starfire made no reply. What good were titles in the slave barracks? "Does it—does it hurt to be a slave?"

"Only when you disobey them. Do as they please and they will have no reason to hurt you. Sometimes you get so hungry and weak that you begin to drop things; those times are the worse, but our master is not so particular about his pottery. Just don't spill anything on him and he won't have you lashed so badly."

Starfire shuddered, and then she began to cry.

"Hush, girl. You will have to learn how to staunch your tears. Crying irritates them. Sometimes they lash you for it, or kick you."

"I could not help it," whimpered Starfire. "I am only nine years old… I am just a little girl. I cry all the time…"

"You must forget you are nine. You must forget you are a little girl. You are a slave now. You have to be strong, or you will die."

"I—I try to be strong; for my people."

"Is that what your father told you?" There was bitterness in her tone and Starfire reacted to it defensively.

"Father did not want to send me. He refused to send me. What father would want to send his child into slavery? My father would never do such a thing willingly. It was I who convinced him to let me go. I told him I would go for my people; that I would go even if he forbids it, because the Citadellians promised to leave Tamaran alone if I was paid as ransom."

She paused a moment, as if to reassess her words. "Then you are far selfless than I."

Starfire said nothing. Right now, she was feeling more selfish than she would like to admit. She wished, bitterly, that she hadn't been so insistent. She wished she were some place other than in the slave barracks of Gordane, under warrant of the Citadel Empire. She wished there was no Tamaran that she felt obligated to protect. She was afraid of the lashing and the starvation and the subduing-collar.

She had seen the masters use the subduing-collar on the slaves; slaves who looked healthy and strong still, and their cries of pain would echo in her nightmares for many weeks.

"I am afraid," she confessed. She could not bear the thought that Xyannis gave her credit where it wasn't deserved.

Xyannis was silent for a while before she spoke. "It is just pain. Be thankful, princess, that for the meantime, your virtue is safe. The master does not like the young ones. Perhaps when you begin to develop— at thirteen; maybe fourteen, you could worry, but for the meantime, the master will not want you."

It was too awful and Starfire began to cry again. This time, Xyannis did not tell her to stop. Perhaps the elder slave realized that there would time enough for Starfire to keep her tears from falling. Better to shed them now, under the cover of night and the comfort of the dark.

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"Kori, wake up."

The voice; the comforting softness, gently roused her from sleep. There was a hand rubbing at her arm and it was warm.

She was not in the slave barracks and she was not sleeping on a ratty futon on the floor.

As she woke, she tried to re-orient herself: She was on the couch of the viewing room where earlier, she and Robin had decided to pass the time after an early lunch. He was watching a basketball game replay and she had dozed off on his lap five minutes into the unintelligible commentary. She couldn't understand how a ball could be shot from "downtown" or why "traveling" was bad while "beating the shot-clock" was good. What did the shot-clock ever do to deserve such ill-treatment?

Now Robin was waking her up. Perhaps his leg had fallen asleep and he needed to move it.

She pushed herself languorously to a sitting position, running her hands through her hair. She yawned. "Is the game over? Who won?" She hoped it was Miami. She knew he was rooting for them.

"Madam Koriand'r, it is time." It was Alfred.

She may have been drowsy from sleep, but she instantly knew what he meant, and it chased sleep from her.

Starfire suddenly felt nauseated by it. She was nervous and she began telling herself that everything would be fine, that if she were to find out that the operation hadn't worked, everything would be okay.

"Master Bruce shall be meeting you and Master Richard in the medical facility. He expects me to have you there in forty five minutes."

"You don't have to bring us there, Alfred," said Robin. "I'll drive. We'll be fine."

"Master Bruce insists. As do I. Madam Koriand'r would want someone sitting with her at the back of the car."

Especially if the operation failed. Even Alfred does not discount the possibility, thought Starfire sullenly. But she was thankful for their consideration, nonetheless.

Perhaps understanding the situation, Robin did not insist further.

She took a moment to freshen up in the bathroom, aware that she was taking her time. When she emerged, Robin was there to guide her the rest of the way.

They followed Alfred out of the viewing room and through the hallways. It was a long walk, but it ended in a place filled with familiar echoes. They were in the garage and Robin was ushering her into a car with the luxurious leather seats. I felt like the same car that picked them up at the airfield and it probably was.

Robin didn't say much on the way to the medical facility and for once, Starfire didn't feel like being randomly cheerful.

After a long while, she felt the car tilting forward, like it was sliding down an incline, and then the car was level again, coming to a complete stop a few seconds later.

Robin's grip on her hand tightened momentarily. "We're here."

She showed no hesitation following him out of the car, but her stomach was fluttering.

"Master Richard, here is your passcard to the Executive Elevator."

"I already have one, thanks."

"That is the old one. We update codes every other week."

Robin sighed. "I always forget that Bruce is even more anal than I am."

"I shall remain here, Master Richard. Madam Koriand'r?"

Starfire turned towards him slightly.

"I surmise that all will be well; no matter what."

She could not help but give him a brave smile.

Robin led her and she let herself sink into her own thoughts. She tried her best not to be afraid. As Alfred said, all would be well, no matter what. If only she could get herself to believe it, at the moment.

And how about everyone else? The scientists, the doctors, Robin; they would feel disappointment as well. She could not help but feel partly responsible if that happened.

They were in an elevator. She could tell, and there was that infernal drone of elevator music emanating from some hidden speaker. She fidgeted with her hair and blurted out something she hadn't said out loud in a long time. "I am afraid."

It was like her words broke the tension. He laughed softly, putting his arm around her reassuringly. "Don't be. Alfred's right. Whether this works or not, you're going to be okay."

"And you? Will you be okay?"

He gave her shoulders a squeeze. "Of course I'll be okay. You don't have to worry about any of us."

She nodded, finding comfort in his words.

When the elevator doors opened, they stepped out and Starfire knew they were alone in the hallway. Their sneakers made occasional squeaky noises on the floor as they walked. Robin led them through several doors that asked for his passcard in a mechanical voice.

Finally, there came a door that opened to the voices of a busy crowd.

The noise was only momentary, however. Almost as soon as the noise came, it dwindled to silence.

"Right on time." It was Bruce.

"Alfred made sure," said Robin.

"Of course he did. Alfred's dependable that way. Kori, right this way."

She felt Bruce taking her other hand to lead her and she had little choice but to follow him.

"Who the hell are all these people?" she heard Robin whispering fiercely.

"Some of them are part of this project," replied Bruce, matching Robin's volume, though he didn't sound the least bit as bothered as Robin was. "But a lot of them are from the other projects in the wing. Many have taken an interest to the progress of this study. I got five calls today from science magazine editors requesting access to this facility just so they could see what happens. I turned them all down, of course, but these guys right here are probably friends of friends. I didn't foresee that there would be so many who would like to know the results. If I had, I would have put up some regulations.""

"Can't you just tell the ones who are supposed to be working on their own projects to go away? If I had known there would be a circus here, I would have taken Kori's bandages off myself in the privacy of the Wayne Manor. It ain't rocket science to use a pair of scissors to cut off gauze, you know. Christ, Bruce, everything you do just turns into one big grand opening—"

"Now, now, Dick.Don't be so grouchy. If it makes you feel any better, we'll be facilitating the removal of the bandages in a private room. Just you, me, Kori and the good doctor. You realize, of course, that the presence of a doctor is necessary, or do you want me to tell him to go to hell with his medical diploma? He's only had twenty six years of experience in the field of ophthalmology, anyway. But as you've said, it ain't rocket science."

"Look, Bruce. I'm just saying that all these people are putting unnecessary pressure on Kori. She doesn't need this kind of stress. She's nervous enough—"

Starfire sighed. She couldn't deal with their arguing right now. "Please, Richard, it is fine. Please stop arguing."

"There now," said Bruce. "You've upset Kori."

"What?"

She gave another sigh, more exasperated this time. "Please…" She turned to Bruce pleadingly. She did not want to be disrespectful to Bruce, especially with everything he had done for her, but she needed him to stop baiting Robin.

Bruce conceded lightly enough. "Of course." He took a turn and stopped walking. The faint sound of country music wafted to her ears.

"Dr. Mueller?"

"Ah, Mr. Wayne!"

Starfire remembered the name and the "hillbilly" accent. Dr. Mueller was one of the doctors who attended to her examinations. She had heard the other doctors addressing him with great respect, however humorous he tended to get in his discourse. From the way he called her "li'l missy" and his fellow doctors "young folks", she had guessed he was older than everyone else, or at least he thought so.

"Li'l missy, if you could sit right here, for me."

Starfire was led to a cushioned table. Hoisting herself up gracefully while Bruce made introductions between Dr. Mueller and Robin.

"Young Grayson hardly remembers me, of course," said Dr. Mueller. "You were a bit of a runt when I watched you steal laughing gas from Dr. Leeman's office."

Starfire suppressed a giggle. Robin didn't like being reminded that he had been a somewhat small child, and perhaps he didn't like being reminded of his little delinquencies either.

"W-Well, I-I wasn't actually stealing…" explained Robin awkwardly.

Dr. Mueller chuckled. "Oh, Dr. Leeman used to complain to me about it all the time, but he always let you. I suppose he saw you would become a comely feller. That fruity twit has a knack for knowing who would grow up to be lookers. Tries to catch 'em young, I think. He was right, eh? Look at you. All grown up; almost as tall as Mr. Wayne. Now, what are you all getting red in the face about? Am I embarrassing you?"

"N-No, sir."

"Good! Man has to know his own assets, that's what I think. Why, in my day, I knew I was the best looking son of a gun in my university. I tipped my cowboy hat at the lady-grocer and she'd give me discounts like they was going out of business. Put me through college, those discounts. Couldn't had done it without her. Ah, Mrs. Johnson… but enough about her. Let's talk about you, li'l missy. Anything you'd like to tell me before we take off 'em bandages? How'd you feel in the last three days?"

Starfire bit her lip pensively. "Um… bored?"

He laughed, and she heard mild chuckles from Bruce and Robin.

"Well, I'd imagine so, li'l missy. D'you feel any pain? Any dizziness? Nausea?"

"I am feeling a bit nauseous now…"

"That's just jitters. Or maybe it's just my country music. I get complaints for it all the time."

"I-It is not your country music!" she hastened to explain.

"That's what they all say!"

There was a snip, and before she knew it, she felt the draft around her temples.

The bandages were gone and he was removing the padding from atop her lids.

It suddenly occurred to her that she was terrified of opening her eyes. It was the only thing standing between knowing if the operation had failed or had been successful.

"Now, you may not see right off the bat," said Dr. Mueller. "If there's nothing at first, don't panic. It could take a few seconds; it could take a few hours. We're not sure yet as far as your Tamaranian make-up is concerned. Heck, three days was an estimate. For something like this, we'd give a normal human being a week or two, but seeing as you heal very quickly, we didn't want to bore you anymore than was necessary. Now open your eyes, li'l missy. Let's see what we've got."

The beating of her heart intensified and she felt a tremble go through her. Slowly, she pried her lids open.

And there was absolutely nothing.

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The darkness was complete, and while normally being sealed into a small room without even a single light to assure her that she hadn't died and gone to the underworld would have her screaming to be let out, Starfire hadn't the strength to be frightened. She was too weak from the whipping; too weak from her first taste of the subduing collar.

Beside her in the dark, Xyannis shifted ever so slightly, and for her, Starfire began to weep.

"What did I tell you about crying, girl?" asked Xyannis in a nasal tone. Some blood must have clotted in her nose.

"I am sorry." She said it in a whisper. She was so ashamed of herself. "If I had not misbehaved, you would not have tried to help me, and you would not have been—"

"Hush, girl. It was my choice. I couldn't just stand there and watch you bear the pain alone."

"B-But you shouldn't have—"

"You did it for Thurden, didn't you?"

"Because he was already so weak! He could take no more. Even they know their beatings would kill him, else he would be here with us, right now!"

"Well, I did it because you were strong. I won't have them breaking your soul just yet; not you, little girl."

Starfire stared into the darkness, absorbing Xyannis' words. After a while, she closed her eyes, her weeping spent. She could feel the wounds on her back dripping with blood, knowing that in the morning, they would be gone, and that there would be no scars. Sometimes, she wondered if their wardens wouldn't be so harsh if most of the slaves didn't heal so quickly and cleanly. Perhaps if there were scars to remind them of what they wrought, they would find it in their hearts to have sympathy.

The silence wore on. There was nothing left to say on that night.

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Her jaw dropped and for a moment, her mind yelled for her to say nothing. Perhaps it was better not to speak; save everyone else the pain.

Disappointment was coming to her in waves, as much as she tried to scold herself for being so weak of will.

"Kori?" It was Robin, of course.

Someone shushed him. Perhaps it was Bruce.

"Missy, tell me what you see."

"I-I do not see anything." It felt terrible saying it.

She felt a hand tilt her head up before it was gently released.

"Hmm. Interestin'. How about this? Do you see this?"

There was a recurring clicking sound and Starfire frowned. The shock was wearing off and the disappointment was coming over her in waves. She wanted to tell the doctor, "I just told you I could see nothing!" but she held back, because she knew he didn't deserve her disrespect.

She shook her head.

"Could you see this?"

Starfire was just about losing her composure when she froze; uncertain.

It had no shape or form. Basically it was nothing, yet it was something. It was like a haze of white, flashing on and off in quick staccato.

She stammered to reply.

"How 'bout this one, again?" The clicking sound returned and this time, the flashes were definitely more distinct.

"I-It's a light…"

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It wasn't candlelight that illuminated the slave quarters. The sun was streaming through the bars of the windows and Starfire felt herself waking from an uncomfortable sleep. She was propped up against the wall, like she had been dumped there unceremoniously. The cots were some distance away.

"Cots… pots…" she sang nonsensically. She scowled at the randomness of her words, but she continued anyway. "Pots must be cleaned… leaned… seen… have I seen such a moon…?"

There was no one in the room with her. It was early, but the slaves were all already up for the day.

Perhaps the master did have a bit of consideration, letting her stay in. He did, after all, require her presence in the middle of the night. Starfire remembered being roused from her cot by the master's seneschal and having Xyannis' eyes follow her as she nervously complied. On her way to the door, she noticed several other slaves watching her. It made her uneasy, but the fact that Xyannis had made no protest helped allay her fears.

She remembered being brought before the master and the master staring at her with his yellow, reptilian eyes. The green scales of his skin seemed to ripple everywhere, even when he wasn't moving, and when he sneered at her, baring his row of small, sharp teeth, she wondered if she would be eaten alive, or killed before they made a meal of her.

After that, Starfire could remember nothing else. Perhaps she had been knocked to sleep from behind.

She felt the back of her head for lumps. Her hand ran smack against her face several times before she succeeded in maneuvering it to her nape. There were no lumps, and she felt very little pain; just the usual aches and sores from everyday slavery. She did, however, feel very odd. The room wasn't exactly swirling, but it would flash colors, then faces, then turn her into a giant ball of green.

There was a sound at the door and she was only mildly surprised to see Xyannis entering the chamber. The chambers remained unlocked during the working hours so that slaves could go in and out of them without having to bother the wardens, but it wasn't as if slaves would have such free time to visit their chambers for a quick nap. Xyannis was there because she had gotten a slave to cover for her and Starfire felt her usual sense of gratitude for the woman. Xyannis was always looking out for her and the thought that someone cared for her in this awful place was something she clung to desperately.

Starfire moved her head and found that it was still a bit uncooperative from the drugs.

Xyannis began to help Starfire to her feet. "How do you feel, girl?" Her voice sounded very different, like a soprano being cranked down to an alto.

"Strained." Starfire frowned. Her tongue was being tricky. She wanted to say "strange" but for some reason, she found it difficult. She tried again. "Straight… straannnggge."

"Mm. I'd imagine you'd feel that way." Xyannis gently placed her on her cot. It wasn't much better than what she had been leaning against a few seconds ago, but in their lifestyle, it was about as soft as a feather-bed. At least she had a pillow, lumpy as it was.

Starfire squinted at Xyannis. "What have they done to me, Xyanniii, of Kalapattiii?"

Xyannis smiled slightly. Starfire hardly ever saw her smiling. She pointed it out and laughed. Even her laughter was strange; enunciated "Ha-has" instead of spontaneous sounds of mirth.

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Dr. Mueller laughed, giving an elated, "Haha!"

"Oh God, Kori, could you see it?" It was Robin's voice.

She automatically turned in his direction and was astonished to find a faint moving outline. She blinked in surprise.

Dr. Mueller called to her and she turned in his direction. She flinched back instinctively at an approaching object she could not identify. He belted out another, "Haha!"

"Did you fellers see that? She avoided me! Li'l missy, you're getting along just fine."

It was difficult to be as positive about it as he was. On the one hand, it was more than what Starfire had seen in months, yet on another hand, she couldn't quite call it seeing, either. Even if she could see objects moving, she could not identify them.

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Starfire couldn't understand, but she dared not ask for a clearer explanation. The master and his assistants did not like being pestered. Instead, she stared at them with a blank expression on her face. It was a technique the slaves had learned to employ, dealing with masters who couldn't speak very clearly in the first place.

The master would see the look of confusion on the slave's face and make further explanation on account of it, albeit rather exasperatedly. Sometimes, it earned slaves a slap or two of frustration, but it was a lot better than being whipped for speaking without permission.

For Starfire, a Tamaranian who could absorb languages through touch, it wasn't so much that she could not understand what they were saying, but more a matter of context.

For instance, she could understand that they were telling her to throw away the leftovers from dinner, but she couldn't understand why they didn't just tell her and the slaves to eat the remains. They were starving, yet she was being told to dump the scraps in the disposal bin. What was the sense in that? If the masters did not want the leftovers, then the slaves would certainly appreciate it.

This time, it wasn't about food. It wasn't even about telling her to do something. She was being informed that as of the following week, she would be sent home to Tamaran.

Her confusion was apparent, and gritting his pointy teeth, the master grabbed her by the hair and shook her in irritation.

Her roots stung, though it was a kind of pain she could readily ignore. It was nothing compared to the whipping and the subduing collars and the overnight detentions, but she whimpered, just so they felt that they were overpowering her. Feeding their sense of power as early as possible made for less physical abuse later on.

The master let her go disdainfully and she toppled to her side on her hands and knees.

"I said a week from now, your father's emissaries will be arriving to fetch you. Don't go stupid on me, slave. You are wasting my time!"

She bit her lip before she could say anything that would aggravate him.

It made no sense, her leaving. Xyannis had just told her that the only time a slave was turned free was in a coffin. A dead slave was often nailed up in a box, and if he had family, his family would be informed. If no arrangements were made to have his body sent home, he was cremated, his ashes mixed with the other un-recovered dead.

Perhaps she wasn't a very good slave; maybe they had decided that getting rid of her would be more cost effective, after all, maintaining a slave cost more than putting her in a nailed up box. She considered asking them when they were planning to kill her. Tonight? Mid-week? Perhaps right before her people came to fetch her?

She was relieved to realize that the frightening thought was not making her cry. She had learned to keep her tears in check; a lesson learned the hard way. Certainly, being whipped into drying one's tears had been a paradox of sorts. One couldn't help but let tears fall when there was much pain, but it certainly drove the lesson home for the next time she got the foolish notion to cry.

When Starfire was dismissed, she humbly scurried out of the room and back to the kitchens. It was her turn to scrub the floors and the cooks would be furious if they saw that the work was undone.

Xyannis was beside her in an instant. "What happened, girl? I thought they were going to kill you! Being called like that…"

"I-It was nothing. They just wanted me to find out what was rotting beneath the floorboards." She did not know why she hadn't told Xyannis that she was scheduled to die soon, for it was madness to think that she would be leaving this wretched planet alive.

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"Well, look alive, missy! You're getting your vision back!"

Starfire tried her best to smile, and perhaps she had succeeded, because it gave Dr. Mueller reason to sound even more elated.

It was difficult. Apart from the dreadful memories that were suddenly flashing in her mind, she wasn't wholly convinced that the operation had worked.

There was a definite shape to the outlines, now. There were three hazy splotches, but she couldn't see anyone clearly enough yet.

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Starfire scrubbed vigorously at the clear glass and she growled in frustration. The stain, whatever it was, simply refused to come off. She shifted on her harness, turning in her seat to call to her lifter who was at least four levels down. "It will not come off!"

Xyannis sighed, obviously tired from holding the ropes all day.

Starfire wished the wardens would at least remove her subduing-collar when she cleaned windows, just so she could use her powers of flight and save the rest of the cleaners the trouble. It wasn't as if she would fly away. If she escaped, the Citadellians would attack her planet, and if cleaning windows could prevent that, she would very well have the windows sparkling.

However, it was evident that the windows would not be as spotless as she hoped. There were just some stains that had worked their way into the glass, rendering them permanent.

She felt her harness lowering, and when she got to the ground, Xyannis relieved her of the bottled cleaning solution.

The nearest Gordanian supervisor eyed them menacingly before moving on to observe the other slaves.

"Here," said Xyannis, taking a different bottle from the work box. "Use this solution instead. You might be dealing with a gorg stain."

Starfire grimaced. She hated gorgs. They were ugly and vicious flies that could leave itchy bites the size of one's hand.

"When their guts are left unattended, they could seep into any surface," Xyannis further explained.

As Starfire took the bottled solution from her, Xyannis grasped her wrist. Starfire stared at her in surprise.

"There is a rumor that says you will be leaving us sometime next week; to go home."

Starfire's surprised look faded. "Yes, well, I suppose they do not like me much. So long as they kill me before they nail me into the box, I shall have no complaints."

Xyannis arched an eyebrow. "Do you know for sure that you will be going home in a box? Perhaps they will be sending you home alive."

Starfire shrugged. "That would be quite the pleasant surprise."

Xyannis sighed, nodding. Even she didn't believe Starfire would be leaving Gordane on her own two feet.

Starfire was just about getting ready to have herself hoisted back up when Xyannis squeezed her shoulder.

"In case you make it out of here alive… find my family and tell them I am dead. Tell them you saw me die."

Starfire stared at her in shocked confusion. "X-Xyannis! You wish for me to lie to them? But why? Surely—"

"I want to sever my ties with them… forever."

"But do you not want to leave this wretched life?"

"There is nothing more I want than to be free, but when I do break free of bondage, I will not seek them. I will find another life; without them."

Starfire scowled, but she nodded. Xyannis had done so much for her and this was one request that she probably wouldn't be able to fulfill if she wanted to; dying somewhat limited one's options of travel. "How shall I find them?"

"They will be easy to find in Kalapatt. All you need to do is ask where Karras, Salja and Tharras live."

"Karras…"

"He is my brother. Salja is my mother and Tharras my father."

Starfire stared up at her forlornly, and before she could stop herself, she blurted out another question. "Do you hate them so much?"

Xyannis laughed softly. "It is not hate. I am past hate."

Starfire met eyes with her, and when she searched for emotion, a chill ran down Starfire's spine, because in Xyannis' eyes, there was nothing; just a cold, voided stare.

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Where there once was nothing, Starfire could definitely say there was now something.

The blurred shapes began to take on a somewhat hazy resolution. They were nothing but blotches of white a minute ago, but now she was seeing a separation of colors; a steadily growing sense of detail.

There was Robin, dressed in his gray half-zip sweater, leather jacket and jeans. Beside him was Bruce, dressed in a black suit and a dapper red tie. Near her was Dr. Mueller. He had on a while lab gown, as expected, but he had on a tie, as well, though perhaps not as dapper looking as Bruce. The thick white hair on his head and atop his lip hid most of his features.

Her insecurity began to melt away the clearer things became.

Starfire looked at her hand and held it up to eye level. She began to see the lines on her palm and it was only then that it finally sank in.

I could see.

Her optimism faltered for a split heartbeat and she wondered if she was dreaming the entire thing. Maybe her barrage of disjointed memories were actually parts of this dream she was yet to wake up from. Maybe she was still asleep on the couch while Robin watched his basketball game.

Or maybe, I am awake and this is actually happening.

That was a definite possibility.

She looked around her, and while there was still a slightly blurry haze outlining everything, there was no denying it anymore.

"I could see," she said in an amazed whisper.

Ultimately, it was her words that mattered most.

Someone let out a collected breath, and then a choked laugh. It was Robin, and at the sound of his voice, she turned to him.

It was, perhaps, more amazing than she could explain, because for the first time since she set foot on this Earth, she met eyes with Richard Grayson, and they were the most beautiful cerulean blues she had ever seen.

To be continued…

Closing notes: Wasn't I just the little killjoy in this chapter? ::laughs sadistically:: I'll try to cutdown on flashbacks in the future, I promise!

Go to my bios for my thanks!