Genre: Alternative Universe – Space Age
Rating: R – For really bad swearing and adult situations… yes, especially from the Titans.
Summary: Space Cargo Guarding was getting old for Robin. He loved space, but surely there were better things to look forward to than getting to the other side of the stargate. Man-oh-man, was he right...
Standard disclaimers apply.
THE MIGHTY TITAN
Chapter Six: Crosslines
Robin plotted the course to Drava-Airyn with his crew. It did not take long, and because their course included entering a stargate, they had until late the next day free to do whatever they needed to do. Raven and Starfire disappeared in the annals of the ship while the crew dispersed to do their respective end-of-day duties. It was a few hours still before dinnertime, so there was time for a lot of things.
After Robin made the rounds checking on Cyborg and Beast Boy in engineering, he thought about having his talk with Terra concerning the termination of her probationary period.
When Robin returned to the bridge to look for her, Terra was no longer there.
Unable to resist, he sat himself on the captain's chair and furtively punched several codes on his panel. He made sure that he could make quick code maneuvering in case Terra suddenly walked into the bridge; he didn't want her to know that he was checking to see if she had completed her work.
He saw that she did; perfectly, in fact, with optimum efficiency. He instantly felt guilty for doing what he did. In the past three years, his trust in Terra always leaned one way and then another. He trusted her to do her job correctly and swiftly. She had never let him down, but he couldn't deny the fact that there was that ever present doubt in him that one day, she would suddenly say to herself, "Fuck it, I don't have to stay in this joint."
By nature, Terra was wild, unfettered and perhaps a little explosive. Obviously, she wasn't much for rules and authority. She followed her own rhythm, and the fact that she could screw up an entire system's computer network without feeling the least bit guilty about it was telling enough of how extreme her behavior could get. To that day, she hadn't given a reason for why she did what she did, but whatever her reasons were, Robin couldn't see them justifying her crimes.
When he took her on, she had been in jail for five years and she was weighed down by a probationary period. Except for the occasional attempts on her part to make minor hacks into one system or another, usually just because she could, Robin hadn't had trouble getting her to behave. It was easy to make cyber guards for her, and while she could very well hack through his programs, he always threatened her with her probationary officer if he couldn't appeal to her sense of honesty. Overall, in the past three years, she had shown compliance, relative discipline and a mostly sweet and cheerful disposition. He had little to no complaints, but there was that ever lingering truth that he can take the girl out of the wild, but he can't take the wild out of the girl.
What had eight years of good behavior done to someone like her? Was she completely reformed? Or was she just biding her time?
He sank into his seat and closed his eyes to focus his thoughts, willing himself to put aside his worries. Cyborg was right; whatever Terra's decision was in the matter of running her life, Robin had to respect it.
He rose from his seat and walked out of the bridge, resolving to find his Coordinator and get it over with.
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When Robin was allowed to enter Terra's room, he stood gaping from the threshold, astonished by the amount of equipment lying all over the relatively small space.
Terra's room was a tangle of motherboards, network cables, monitors, servers, potato chips and information storage devices. While most of her regular things were in their proper places—her books were slid properly into shelves, magazines were stacked neatly in one corner, her bed was made up, her clothes were in her closet, her shoes were arranged on a shoe rack, her candles were artfully placed in safe perches—the computer junkie in her was in complete disarray, or perhaps in organized chaos. The equipment littered the room, turning what would have been a neat room into a veritable junk heap. He wondered what she did about sleeping, since the bed was blanketed with computer equipment. Did she have to carefully put aside the equipment every night so she could sleep comfortably? Or did she just slip under the covers of her sheets, the equipment left on top of the sheets as they were?
Beside the bed was a workstation of sorts. Terra sat in the middle of it, and "it" looked like what Robin could only describe as a cyber nest, heaps and brambles of wires, empty Styrofoam cups, processors, monitors and circuitry. She had on headphones and her bio-synthetic eye-guards. Even as she looked up to watch him expectantly through her goggles, her fingers were still flying on two of half a dozen keyboards laid out in front of her.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
He shook himself out of his stupor. "Uh, yeah. I came here to talk to you about something."
"'Bout what?"
It was slightly disconcerting, how she never stopped working as she spoke to him. He hesitated. "If this isn't a good time…"
She raised an eyebrow and suddenly, she wasn't typing anymore. She removed her goggles with a press of her finger and pushed a rolling table aside. She rolled out of her circle of electronics on her chair, maneuvering herself expertly, like she got around her room that way all the time. "Take a seat." She gestured to her dressing table, heaped with storage disks, and he saw the small stool.
He pulled the chair out with his foot and sat himself across Terra. He didn't dally further. "Your probation period is ending. Did you know that?"
She let out a half-derisive chuckle. "Of course I know that. You don't think I count the days?"
That didn't sound very promising as far as Robin was concerned, but he did decide not to sweat it, whatever the outcome of his talk with her. "What are your plans?"
Her eyes registered surprise for a moment before she grinned. "Nothing really definite, as of yet. Why? What's it to you?"
He shrugged, cocking his own smile. "I'd hate to lose a coordinator, but if you have decided to leave, I'd like to know about it. I have to start looking for a replacement."
Terra winked. "There ain't no one who could replace me, chief."
He chuckled, nodding in acquiescence. "Probably. And getting used to a new crew member's a bitch."
"And you'd probably miss me too, eh?"
"Don't push it."
She threw back her head and laughed, punching Robin on the shoulder. It hurt for real and he scowled in pain, but she paid no attention to it. "Ya know what, chief? If I do decide to leave, I'll miss you."
He merely gave a grunt to that, never letting on that he considered her words comforting, though he wondered if that sort of thing would keep her out of trouble. He thought, maybe not.
She grinned at his reaction, not the least bit offended. "You're as real as they come, boss."
He gave a noncommittal shrug. He braced himself for what he really came to talk to her about. What he was about to say was touchy and he would have to be careful so that she wouldn't take it the wrong way. "Listen, Terra, I know I've been—well, controlling."
Terra scoffed, but she was smiling. "Shyeah!"
"But that's really just because I didn't want you fucking up under my watch. You understand?" It was blunt, but Terra didn't stand much for niceties when it came to him.
She hesitated, realizing that he was serious. Gravely, she nodded.
He nodded back. "When your parole period ends, the only person you really have to listen to is yourself."
Terra frowned slightly. "I listen to you chief."
"And I appreciate that, but you know what I mean when I say you'll have yourself to listen to, right?"
She wasn't smiling anymore, but she didn't seem angry either. She looked like she was really listening, and that was encouraging to Robin.
"Yeah," she said. "I know what you mean."
Robin didn't want any misunderstanding. "Then I wanna hear you say it."
She sighed, but she replied, anyway. "When my parole period's over, I couldn't be forced to follow orders no more. You can't threaten to tell on me with my parole officer anymore and my parole officer could do squat to me."
"That's exactly right. You'll only have yourself to be responsible for, and while I haven't exactly given you the chance to prove that you could make right decisions on your own, this is the best chance you'll get." He held her gaze. "If this is the last time you'll ever listen to me, Terra, this is what I have to say: You done good. All of us think you're doing great, and you could keep being like this if you choose. Whether it's with or without this ship, with or without the rest of us, that's completely up to you, but you know you could do well for yourself from hereon. Don't screw up what you've worked so hard for. Us, right here"—he jabbed downwards with his finger—"we're counting on you to keep your life straight. We don't want anything bad happening to you. Y' hear me?"
She tore her gaze away, as if she was suddenly thinking of something else that was just as important.
Robin tried to catch her gaze again. "Hey, Markov. You hearing me?"
She rolled her eyes, sighing and nodding. "Yeah, yeah. I hear you."
"Good." He paused a moment. "Not that I'm prying, but does BB know?"
She looked up, scowling.
He held up his hands in surrender. "You're right. It's none of my business." It was enough for Robin, anyway. Saying Beast Boy's name in her presence was enough. She understood exactly what he meant without him having to explain anything. He rose from his seat, feeling only slightly better about the situation. He might have told Terra how he felt on the matter, but she hadn't told him much. He hadn't expected she would, but if Terra could be depended on to tell him about her plans then he wouldn't be so worried. "I have some stuff to do at the library. If anyone happens to asks, I'll be there."
"Aye, aye, Chief," she replied with a conciliatory smile. "Uh, Chief?"
Robin arched an eyebrow in response.
"I—umm—appreciate your coming here to talk to me about all that. I always—" she coughed, reddening "—knew you—you know—cared. It's comforting. And it makes me wanna do good."
Robin absorbed this, unmoving, before he replied. "That's good to hear." He gave her a firm, if somewhat stiff, pat on the shoulder.
She nodded and he nodded back, leaving her room as he did so. He never liked sappy whatevers, but he had to admit that hearing her say what she said gave him some comfort.
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Robin liked reading his books right in his library. It was the main reason he had two comfortable chairs and one coffee table, the design being deliberate. He could bear another person being in the room with him, as long as that other person was as intent on reading, or at least relaxing quietly, as he was. The lack of chairs other than the two he had set up was precisely so that no more than two people would be comfortable at one time. If a third reader wanted to read in the library, then that person would have to find a spot on the floor. Either way, he didn't want anyone being disruptive while he was there.
When he decided he had wanted to kick back and do some reading, he was greatly relieved to find that no one else was in the library. Ordinarily, finding himself alone had never been a problem, since no one in his crew liked to read as much as he did, but lately, with Raven on the lose, the library wasn't always free.
This time, it was, and he took full advantage. He searched through the shelves randomly, hoping to find a book that would strike his fancy and keep him occupied in the next few hours. Several times, he would stop at a book, think about it and then move on. Towards the end of the shelf, his eyes fell upon a black spine. He stared at it, brows knotting. Even just looking at its spine, he could swear he had never seen the book before, yet there it was, tucked comfortably between the rest of his books, as if it had been there all along.
He kept tabs of the books leaving and entering his library. Each and every book that passed through the library doors, whether or not he owned it, triggered a logging program, accounting at least for its being within or outside the library's confines. He had his books custom-tagged, getting the computer to identify them by title, author and edition. Books he didn't own got tagged by their built in manufacturing barcodes and were merely identified as "Unknown", but they were identified nonetheless, at least in terms of the book's presence. He went to the small computer perched on the waist high pedestal at the corner of the room. There were a few books out, and he could tell by the type of book who checked out what. Cyborg had likely borrowed the engineering books and Beast Boy must have borrowed the Space Craft Centennial Registry. Nothing else had been taken out. No unidentified book had been brought in. The logs remained clean.
Robin looked over his shoulder at the book and scowled. What am I doing? What's the big deal? Just look at the damn book and read it. So what if I don't recognize it? It's a book; this is a library… it's supposed to be here!
He went to the shelf and plucked the book out, but the moment his fingers touched the spine, a memory surged in his mind. He remembered buying the book. He had been fourteen and he had been with Bruce, making deliveries to Drava-Airyn. He remembered walking into a store manned by what seemed like a senile Cahillian and his granddaughter of six, both of them unfit to look after a proprietorship. They had watched him enter the store, ignored his courteous hi and hello and waited until he picked a book off the shelf he was looking through. He had a vision in his mind of taking the book to the counter and paying for it, the old Cahillian with his three-fingered hand taking forever to ring up his purchase. The Cahillian had fallen asleep twice during the transaction, his bulbous head seeming too heavy for him to keep upright. When the book had been bought, Robin tucked it into his tunic pocket, headed back to the ship and stashed the book amongst his growing collection, a collection that would one day find its own library on a ship he could call his own.
Robin blinked, eyebrow arching. So he bought the book, it seemed. It was just very strange that he hadn't a single memory of it before he held it in his hand. He had a much better memory than that. However, he knew how memories were triggered by different things. In the case of the book, touch may have very well been the catalyst, though that was unusual, considering the very look of the book would have been enough to brand it in his memory.
It was hardbound, huge and with a cover so black that it reminded him of Chasm legends; of blackened pockets in space that were so dark, one could be drawn into falling in the pit. At the center of the cover was a symbol in silver-leaf, twisting in symmetrical patterns, like a pretzel, but with more complex curves. The title of the book was branded into the spine, the words depressed into the surface. It looked opaque from a certain angle, but turned one way, the words glowed eerily, as if it only responded to certain types of light.
Or certain types of dark.
He frowned at the thought, shaking it away.
The title read: Cosmic Ley Craft: Coven of the Elements.
He raised an eyebrow. What the… fuck? It was not the type of book he would buy. It was not the kind of thing that would interest him, yet there it was, and he vividly recalled purchasing it, however vague all surrounding memories of it were…
He scratched at his head in wonder. What had compelled him to buy such a book? It certainly seemed out of place within the scope of his tastes and interests… but on second thought, was it? All his life, he'd been at home with the unusual. As a person born and raised in Luna, "normal" meant being taught algebra by a teacher in a clown suit and music by a fat lady in a Gaul costume. Even the local Catholic priest was a former strongman who walked around with his pet Siberian Tiger. It was probably an ordeal for every sinner of Luna to make confession with Father Olaf. One never knew if his penance would involve having one's hand bitten off or a leg snapped in two.
But it didn't mean nothing surprised Robin, or weirded him out, for that matter. It just meant he had a higher tolerance for the strange than most. Perhaps it was telling enough that his entire crew consisted of a robot-human hybrid, a mountain moving pixie and a little green man. And now he'd taken on two more oddballs: A malignant witch and a fire-starting alien chick. Sure, Raven gave him a sense of hellish foreboding when he witnessed her power in Euphorix SP and Thelsor-Con, and certainly, he wasn't too pleased by the fact that Starfire had managed to rob him of more than his weapon and money, but amazingly enough, he had kicked neither of them out of his ship. He felt at times, dealing with these people, that he was some kind of Weirdness Junkie and that he, the boy from Luna, was the only normal person he knew. Even his godfather had a screw loose. Who wore bat-ears anyway? Really?
Well, there's Alfred, of course. He's kinda normal… in an aloof, British gentleman kind of way…
He sat on one of the chairs and lifted the cover. The ivory pages were thick, but smooth, yellowed only slightly, but in good condition nonetheless. The pages were frayed at the edges, like the blade used to cut them hadn't been sharp enough to cut cleanly, but they were relatively even. It only served to make the book seem even more archaic, combined with the Old Age font.
He flipped to the beginning of the text, past the introduction. The first chapter was entitled: Drawing the Ley.
Robin rolled his eyes, scoffing softly. He still couldn't believe he had bought the book.
He turned over the first page and was surprised to find that there was absolutely nothing written on the back side. He found that it was so for the rest of the book. It was very strange, not to mention a waste of good paper. Even stranger was the ashy, silvery tinge the back pages took, ever so slightly grainy to the touch. Running a pen, or perhaps even a feather quill, over its surface would have been troublesome in the extreme.
Sighing, he leaned back on the chair, propping the book up to ready himself for reading. He had come to the library to read anything that caught his fancy. He supposed the mysterious book fit the description.
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The book was unexpectedly interesting, though he didn't buy into almost anything it said.
The book's introduction seemed standard in its purpose. It told the reader why the book was written, what could be expected within the pages and how a reader should approach each and every entry. The introduction was straightforward, unpretentious and informative, but even then, Robin couldn't help but cringe at the mention of ley lines, the gathering of the coven, the "aether", the circle, divination and magical objects, supposedly the key points of the book. However, he did read on, and he found himself immersed in the first chapter concerning ley lines in space; what they were, finding them and finally using them.
Outrageous as it all seemed, Robin did find the subject matter engrossing. The first chapter first explained how witches and novice witches—called warlocks—had to have the ability to control the magick they had. While most people, whether or not they were borne into the world of witches or warlocks, possessed some form of magick, not everyone had the capacity to manipulate it, or had enough of it to affect events. "Affecting events" meant casting spells, intentionally or otherwise. Most individuals who possessed magick but not enough to affect events usually manifested their powers in different ways; from mundane concepts such as "intuition", "hunches" and "feelings" to the more extraordinary things like Olympic achievements, scientific breakthroughs, child prodigies, best selling novels and even religious phenomenon, like stigmata, saintly visitations and tongues. Warlocks were those considered beginners in the craft; witches were spell masters, or at least competent spell wielders.
Witches, through out their lives, never used up their internal supply of magick, but this was only so because they learned to tap into alternative sources of power to build over their own and enhance it. Some witches harnessed magick from the processing of plants, or herbs; some from the sacrifice of animals, like birds, bats, frogs, goats, and in one of its darkest forms: humans. Then there were the witches who harnessed the power of ley lines.
Ley lines were lines found all over parts of the universe. Their origins were unknown, but the most popular theory was that they were formed through the trickle of excess magick from the many so-called dimensions. Excess magick came from various sources: It could be residual and unutilized magick from the burnt herbs used by the Kitchen Witch, or the remains of magick in the unused blood of sacrificed animals. Individually, the residue and remains never contained enough magick to make a difference in a potion, charm, spell or curse, but when the residue and remains of all the dimensions gathered at specific points in a plane, they could form ribbons, canals, streams, even oceans. These were what supposedly made up ley lines, and Ley Witches tapped into ley lines for their power. Practicing Ley Craft meant a witch didn't have to sacrifice an animal, create a charm or mix a potion to invoke a spell; all they needed was an incantation and the skill to draw on the ley. Ley Witches were more commonly known as Sorcerers, and because of their seemingly unearthly powers, they were the most feared, but the fact of the matter was all witches had the capacity to be as powerful as they could be; all witches were as prone to be good as they were prone to be evil.
Why witches preferred one source of magick over another varied from witch to witch, but many witches avoided Ley Craft for the simple reason that ley lines demanded back more than a fair share of what it gave. It was a fundamental truth that a witch's spell came back to the caster three-fold. It wasn't the spell itself that powered the karma, but the casting of it. In the case of a Blood Witch, it often involved the killing of an animal. In the case of a Kitchen or Herb Witch, it involved the destruction of a plant. But plant or animal, they were living things, and the taking of either demanded payment, which was why Kitchen Witches were such diligent gardeners and Blood Witches cared most tenderly for their pets, one of which usually ended up becoming their familiars, never their sacrifices. They were also usually the most diligent parents to their off-spring, though whether they raised their children correctly or not remained a variant matter. Ley Witches had a more complicated price to pay. They could not compensate their tapping into ley lines by cultivating leys; one did not cultivate leys, they were simply there. So Ley Witches exchanged ley energy with magick, either of their own, or some other witch's…
In such a world, where magick was a valuable possession, not to be wasted or lightly used, it wasn't hard to imagine the dark implications of ley craft.
Robin was just getting into the theories of ley lines in space when he heard the door hiss open.
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Robin practically slammed the book shut in his hurry to slide it out of sight and tuck it in the side between cushion and chair. Interesting as the book was, he realized that he would find it slightly embarrassing to be caught reading such a book.
He turned on his seat and peeked beyond his chair's backrest. He was surprised to find Starfire walking in, ort cradled in the crook of her arm.
She smiled. "Hello! Terra said you would be here."
Robin's brows knotted ever so slightly. "Whadaya need?"
Shaking her head, she drifted to the other chair and sat herself down, setting the ort on the floor. It immediately got in a comfortable position at her feet and closed its eyes. "I do not have to need anything to want to find you. However, I do have a question: How come Raven got to keep her communicator and I could not?"
"That was my communicator. You took it and I took it back."
She ignored what he said and went on. "I had to fly all over the ship to find you and if I had a communicator, all I have to do is call you on it and ask you where you are."
He tried not to think about how she went through all that trouble looking for him and crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly. "Just to make it clear, I didn't give Raven a communicator, I lent it. The good communicators are expensive. I couldn't risk losing one to you."
Starfire shot him a scowl, though she didn't look as offended as she probably should have been. "I would return it if you ask it back."
"And if I don't ask it back?"
"Well… I would assume you did not need it…"
He chuckled. "Right. The way you assumed I didn't need my communicator, or my Trans-Card, or the T-Craft, or my switch-blade…?"
Now she looked offended. "I gave most of those back! And I took your switchblade so I could use it to threaten my collar off me at the collar-smith's in Thelsor-Con! Lest you forget, I came back to save you all!"
Robin shrugged. There was no denying she had saved them but it didn't change the fact that she liked taking things without permission. "You still have the switchblade?"
"Humph! Of course, but if you want it back, then fine. I will give it back! Maybe you wish to take your handkerchief as well?"
There was some kind of twisted humor in all of it because he found himself chuckling. "Maybe I'll ask the switchblade back later, but you know… you could keep the handkerchief. I gave it to you, didn't I?"
Amazingly, this seemed to calm her down. She gave him a conciliatory smile. "Yes, you did. I am sorry if I take things, Robin. It is just—I suppose it is instinct. I take what I can… survival thing. I could not keep a steady job, you see. So it is important for me to 'hustle', as everyone calls it, because I could not stay in one place for very long. If I do, people will find out and it would get me in trouble." She fidgeted uncomfortably. She looked like she would have said more, but she stopped and leaned against the backrest of her chair.
He stared at her thoughtfully. For someone so young and beautiful, she looked so tired, and he couldn't help feeling compassion for her plight. He had told himself earlier that the sooner he got Raven and Starfire off his ship, he could move on with his life, but if Starfire stayed… well, he supposed it hardly made a difference. Thief though she tended to be, she seemed harmless enough, cheerful even, however grating that could get in the morning before he had his coffee. "Look, Starfire, I'm probably going to regret this, but… you don't have to leave this ship. You could get a job here doing… " He sighed. He really couldn't think of anything she could do, but that was beside the point. "I don't know, but you could stay here, help out. This is a gater ship. We never stay in one place and we're really good at fending off bad guys. I told you, you could've asked my help before. I'm still willing to help you…"
A flush rose in her cheeks, coloring her pretty, and she flashed him a bright smile. "That is so kind of you, Robin! Sweet as ever! Ooh! What book is that?"
It annoyed him in the extreme whenever people did what Starfire just did: evading simple questions. On the other hand, his irritation could have been due to embarrassment, being caught with the book. "It's just some book," he said, trying to downplay the interest he had taken to it.
"Could I see?"
"No."
She arched an eyebrow. "No?"
Robin had a feeling she wasn't going to take it for an answer. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He took the book and handed it over to her, grumbling about how he should put details of his life and everything in it up for reading in some kind of ship newsletter.
Starfire took the book, looked at it and flashed Robin a scowl. "Please tell me this has nothing to do with Raven."
The comment was not well met. He hadn't been thinking of Raven at all.
He shot Starfire a frown. "It doesn't, but what if it does? You… don't like that I'm thinking about her?" He wasn't sure why he said it, but when he saw Starfire's blush deepen, he reaped a kind of malignant satisfaction from it.
"It is not that! I am merely saying—well—if you begin to take her seriously enough, I am afraid you will help her try to get the jewel!"
He sighed. "Look, first of all, Raven has made it clear that we're not going anywhere without your go signal, and even if you do agree to help her, I don't know if I want to. Secondly, what does my reading this book have to do with taking Raven seriously?"
"Oh, goodness, Robin, is it not obvious?"
He paused for a heartbeat, seeing if he could figure out what she meant. He couldn't. "Apparently not… what are you talking about?"
Starfire rolled her eyes, as if she was utterly exasperated with him. "You know she practices, do you not?"
Robin was getting exasperated himself. Why didn't she just spill it out? "Practices what? An instrument? A fighting tech—"
"Witchcraft! Really, Robin, I never took you for dense."
He stared at her, his lips beginning to curl into a sneer. "Witchcraft."
"Yes."
"She practices witchcraft."
"Yes!"
"Starfire, I thought you told me you weren't superstitious."
"I am not. Just because I know she practices witchcraft it does not mean I believe she could actually cast spells and such. She even looks the part! But I have to admit, that does not mean she is a witch, yes?"
He chuckled. "I don't know… I think Terra figured it out sooner than the rest of us."
"Be serious, Robin."
"I'm always serious." He realized that he was stifling a grin and he could tell by her expression that she could see the light humor behind his gravity.
Her frown morphed into a smile and she giggled softly before going on. "I recognized a few things in her room when she took me there. There was a small altar with—"
Robin raised halting hand. "W-Wait… an altar?Like a real altar with candles and a deity of some sorts?"
"Something like that."
He gritted his teeth, turning away in growing agitation. "Fuck me! She's settling in!"
She scowled. "May I continue without you injecting your unnecessary profanities?"
He ignored her lecturing. He and the crew had tried, countless times, to sanitize their language by putting up a Swear Card, depositing a certain number of credits into a trans-card every time an expletive escaped their lips, but the card hadn't helped them reduce their swearing at all, it just made swearing expensive, and it was only a matter of time before they each began to smuggle credits out of the card, little by little, until there was no credits left in the Swear Card and everyone just stopped paying tribute to it. It was a lame idea gone poof.
Robin did, however, pay attention to the first part of her last statement. "There's more?"
She shot him a disapproving look but went on. "As I was saying, she had an altar with candles and herbs, then there was the Athame—"
"The wha-tha-may?"
"Athame.It is a ritual knife. There was a boline there, too—"
Robin didn't even bother to ask what a bowl-een was.
"—but really, I have seen countless ladies of high station carrying decorative daggers and such. Raven could have been a lady of such persuasion."
"Rrrright."
"But then in the meeting this morning, she mentioned a spell. Even if I do not think she could do such things, it confirms the Athame and the boline—"
Robin suddenly shot her a wry smile. "And how do you know so much about witchcraft?"
Again she blushed, breaking eye contact with him. "I like to read, too, in case you have forgotten. Remember how we used to spend hours in your godfather's library, Robin?"
Unconsciously, his thoughts drifted to the old memories. "Yeah," he replied softly. "We did like to read."
She nodded, grinning. "Even out there in space, surviving, I always try to find the time to do some reading of my own. Libraries… bookstores… so I've read about witchcraft. It is interesting." She looked at the book he had given her. "This book you have here… I have seen this symbol before. Is the book any good?"
Robin leaned forward, always ready to talk about books. "I've only gotten halfway through the first chapter, but it's interesting how there are different kinds of witches. I thought they were all pretty much the same…"
She smiled, opening the book. "Oh, indeed, there are different kinds. I have often wondered if Raven was a Kitchen or Blood Witch. Probably Kitchen."
He was surprised by Starfire's knowledge, and even more surprised by her choice. "Really? If she were a witch, I think she's more of a Ley Witch, don't you?"
Starfire frowned. "Oh? You think so, do you? I suppose you think Raven horrible enough to summon—" She stopped, staring at the blank back page. "What happened to the rest of it?"
"Yeah, it's blank. Goes like that for the rest of the book. I guess that's the style of it."
Her brows knotted, checking the rest of the pages and confirming Robin's words. "Strange." Her gaze glazed over, as if her mind was light years away before she shook her head and blinked. "Even for a book about witchcraft."
Robin shrugged. "I guess you could say that."
"Yes… well, it is interesting reading, but one should not take it seriously, or else you are left with a plethora of unnecessary questions…" She faded into another stupor and Robin had to arch an eyebrow, curious at what she was thinking.
She did not rise out of her daze as quickly as she had the first time.
Robin leaned over and snapped his fingers in her face. "Mighty Titan to Starfire. Come in, Starfire…"
She blinked in astonishment, as if surprised he was even there. Then she flashed him a disarming smile. "I think being confined in this ship for too long has begun to get to me. I am not used to staying in one place for so long!"
He couldn't help but laugh at that in disbelief. "You've only been here two days! Do you mean to tell me you've never stayed in one place for two days straight?"
She seemed to understand his confusion and she smiled at it, amused. "Perhaps it wasn't an accurate way of putting it. I have not, in ten years, stayed in one place, when I didn't have to, for two days straight."
There was something very sad about that, yet he tilted his gaze at her, cocking a smile. "So… you do like it here."
Her jaw dropped, wonder blossoming from the light in her eyes. Somehow, what he said had caught her completely off-guard. Then she laughed, shrugging in surrender. "I suppose I do, Robin."
There was something very satisfying about getting her to admit it, and he leaned back on his chair, regarding her thoughtfully. "Cool."
It was very odd, to say the least. Only a few hours ago, he couldn't wait to get rid of Starfire, and now there he was, glad at the possibility that she just might stick around. Maybe he was prone to weird mood swings.
"When we get to Drava-Airyn," he said. "You could get out a bit. Tour the shops. Nobody in this ship, except maybe for me, likes being confined for long, so whenever there's a chance, they go out; have fun."
She leaned over, picking up the ort and settling it on her lap. She stroked it idly and it gave a short, lazy bleat. "You do not like to have fun?" Her tone was teasing, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"I have a very boring definition of fun. Ask anyone."
"Funny… I always thought you were the most interesting person I knew."
He chuckled, and it took another moment for him to realize that she was being serious. "You have a kinder opinion of me than my crew does."
She flashed a lopsided grin, shrugging. "Yet they like you anyway. Friends are wonderful that way."
He studied her a moment. "You have a lot of them out there?"
"What?"
"Friends."
She turned her gaze back to the ort, but she was smiling, albeit wanly. "Yes. I do have friends, but not a lot. Precious few. I do not know if they are still alive. Like I said, I hardly stay in one place for long. When I do, it is usually because I have been caught for slaving. That is where I find friends, I suppose. When you are stuck in a place where there is nowhere to go but with your master, you find odd allies in the slave quarters."
It still made him cringe to hear her talking about being a slave. He didn't want to hear the gory details and he didn't like remembering seeing her in a cage, covered from head to foot in mud. "Friends and allies don't always mean the same thing."
"No, they do not. You could only depend on allies while you are in the same slave quarter. Friends; you could depend on friends even from across the galaxy."
Robin had a niggling urge to ask her whether she had any "special" friends floating around somewhere in the quadrants. Which reminded him: "Starfire, what happened to Galfore?"
She froze for a heartbeat, the tension easing off in the next instant. "Galfore stayed with me for a while; after the incident in the Mighty Gotham. He… he could have gone back to Tamaran; became k'norfkato some other noble's child. Remember when Blackfire had gotten him removed from my father's service?"
He grimaced. "Couldn't forget it even if I wanted to."
She smiled wanly. "Well, Blackfire was not being as mean as we thought. She got my father to sign release forms; made him send out good recommendations and high praises, as tribute to Galfore's years of good service, of course. Galfore could have been comfortably placed as soon as he got back to Tamaran, but he refused to leave the both of us alone. Of course, that made Blackfire furious. She did not want a bodyguard. She never did. I remember her being so angry, telling Galfore that he could stay with me if he wished; that I was his responsibility now because she refused to baby-sit a baby and a babysitter. I think she was very sore that she had gone through all the trouble of placing Galfore well and then having him waste it away because he was being sentimental."
Robin was astonished by it all. "Are you telling me she set Galfore up? Why would she want to get rid of him in the first place if she liked him enough to take care of his career?"
Starfire's only reply was the arching of her eyebrow, as if to tell him he should know the answer.
His eyes widened as the realization came to him. "Blackfire knew about the attack…"
"It is a little bit more than that, but yes, you could say she knew the attack was going to happen. Suffice it to say… I think it went worse than she expected. She was fuming about how everything was a mess and how nobody listened to her… you know how spoiled she could be."
Robin thought "spoiled" a huge understatement. "So Galfore stayed with you. What did she do about that?"
"Well, at first Blackfire put up with it grudgingly, but I think it really got on her nerves eventually. She just woke up one day and said she would go on her way alone and that Galfore should just take care of me. She made Galfore and me promise that we would not go looking for her; that under no circumstance should we try to be together again. At first I could not understand why and… well, you know how much of a cry baby I was."
Robin cocked an amused grin. "You were a little girl."
"I think I cried a lot, even for a little girl. I cried when you accidentally got your bubblegum in my hair."
"How the hell did I get my gum in your hair again?"
"You were trying to break my record… for biggest bubble. You blew so hard that the whole wad just went flying out of your mouth and landed on my hair. The bubble popped and it was horrible."
"Oh… yeah…"
She giggled. "Yes, well, I cried when Blackfire said she did not want to see me anymore. I thought I had done something wrong and that she was very angry with me."
Robin remembered wanting to shoot peas into Blackfire's eyes and daydreaming about dropping bugs down Blackfire's shirt. He remembered the satisfaction he got out of spitting into Blackfire's coffee that one time when she and the other adults hadn't been looking and then watching her drink from the same cup as she read the holo-paper. It had been right after the Galfore incident, so at the time, Blackfire had been evil incarnate. How he hated Blackfire for picking on Starfire, the sweet little girl who cried whenever her elder sister showed displeasure at her and begged forgiveness even if she had done nothing wrong.
"I spat in her coffee," said Robin, feeling the same satisfaction at the mere memory of it.
Starfire gave him a questioning look.
"That one breakfast, when she ordered me to make her coffee, I spat into it when no one was looking. It wasn't just ordinary spit too. I sort of let it rip and I mixed it in really well."
"Robin! Ugh! That is so disgusting!" But she laughed in spite of herself. "I knew there was something wrong when you gave her that cup. I saw it in your eyes! You imp!"
He shrugged. "I hated her. She was so mean to you. And… you never fought back. I thought someone had to fight for you."
Her laugh dwindled to giggles. "My nine-year-old knight."
"That's me, armed with the Great Spit of Justice."
She gave another laugh and "Eew!" before she simmered. "We thought so badly of her, did we not?"
His opinion of Blackfire hadn't changed in the least, but he wasn't going to tell Starfire that. "I guess. So where's Galfore then? When did you two decide to separate?"
"We did not decide; we were forced. We were caught as slaves, and while at first Galfore managed to keep me by his side, we eventually got sold to separate masters, and Galfore, large as he was, could do nothing about it. We had collars. Even Galfore could not withstand it."
Robin remembered the collar. How awful it had looked when Glim, the proprietor at Lenny's, had used the leash to punish her. It was the most inhumane thing he had ever seen. "So you haven't seen him since?"
"No. I have not. But if I find him and he is still a slave, I will set him free."
A thought came barreling into his brain and it tumbled out of his mouth before he could even consider it. "We could help you find him."
She stared at him, as if shocked by his offer. She had been prepared to hear him offer her board and lodging, but to offer her help finding Galfore was a different matter altogether. "R-Robin… you do not have to…"
"Yeah, well, I'm offering you anyway."
"I could not afford to pay for such services—"
"I'm not asking you to pay anything. We could get drops along the way. It's no big deal."
She looked like she didn't know what to say, but he waited for her to absorb what he had just told her. She was just beginning to look like she was regaining her senses when his communicator gave a bleep.
Reluctantly, he answered it.
It was Cyborg. "We have another Plasma Cell on the brink."
That was not good news. Robin sighed miserably. "Shit…"
"I need you to look at something. Can you spare a minute?"
His little discussion with Starfire would have to wait. "Yeah… I'll be there in a few. Out." Robin shut his communicator and rose from his chair, scowling. "I gotta go. Stuff to do."
She nodded, diverting her attention to the ort.
He stared at her a moment, unsure of whether he should say something more. Leaving without saying anything suddenly seemed too brusque. "I guess we could talk about this again at dinner. You'll be at the mess hall, won't you? Tonight's special is instant cup noodles."
She managed a half-smile-half-grimace. "Mmm!"
He chuckled, turning to head for the library doors.
"Robin?"
He stopped in his tracks, looking at her over his shoulder. He arched a questioning eyebrow.
"I… It was nice talking with you like that again"
His stomach gave a roll, but it wasn't his ulcer. For a second, he didn't know what to say, then it occurred to him that he simply had to reply with the truth: "Yeah. Likewise," he muttered, stepping out of the library.
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When Robin walked into the plasma chamber, Cyborg and Beast Boy had their brows furrowed over a dimming plasma cell.
Plasma, when in perfect condition, produced a blue, luminescent glow. While the ship ran on fuel, a fully functional ship needed batteries as well. The energy equivalent of a spacecraft like the Mighty Titan was a battery the size of the ship itself; that fact made batteries impractical. It was obvious that ships needed a kind of gestalt, something considerably smaller but would produce as much, if not more, than what batteries could provide. The discovery of a near indefinite supply of power contained in plasma gave ships the boost it needed, both in flying ships and producing them. With an ample supply of energy packed into such small containers and processed into such a relatively stable and harmless substance, spaceships of all shapes, sizes and functions could be made.
The only limitation plasma cells had was that they only reacted properly to certain types of catalysts. Ordinarily, this was not a problem, considering most, if not all ships from the first and second quadrant were specially fitted to accommodate the standard issue plasma cells, but should a cell be exposed to a catalyst outside of specs, the substance inside the cells would simply begin to deteriorate and then totally expire. It was for this reason that the material used to contain plasma was sturdy and durable, engineered to withstand the weight of an entire ship or thousands of degrees of heat, if necessary, because should the plasma be exposed to air, water, fire or earth, the plasma would be useless. That would be a waste of good energy.
Robin stared at the plasma cells fitted into the rotating plasma core. All seven carriages in the core were filled, but one of the seven looked like a reserve cell, which it probably was. The seventh utility was held out horizontally in Cyborg's hands. It was a cylindrical tube the length and diameter of an adult's forearm, but what once was a bright, azure blue was now a dulling teal.
Robin frowned. "What happened? Crack in the container?"
Cyborg shook his head. "That's the problem, champ. The container is in perfect condition."
"Did you check the plasma core? Maybe there's something in the carriages contaminating the plasma."
"Bee checked them first and I doubled. They're clean. Nothing's wrong with the hardware."
Beast Boy crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the plasma core glass. "I think Cy's guys sold us dud plasma cells. He said he's been getting it from 'independent sellers' since Gestaltronic went corporate Earth."
Cyborg scowled. "Hey, I'd trust my mechanical behind and bucks with those independent sellers over Gestaltronic's corporate, overpriced shit."
Robin sighed. "Seriously, Cy, if the problem's not on this ship, maybe the cells arethe problem."
Cyborg shook his head. "No way. We've already had two previous duds replaced. The first two were original fixtures, straight from the ship's manufacturer. They were there when you bought the ship. This third one's from the original suppliers of Gestaltronic, before they went corporate. They're good plasma cells."
Beast Boy's eyes widened. "It's a conspiracy. Gestaltronic Inc. wants to monopolize plasma distribution throughout the first and second quadrant! It's sabotaging the plasma cells of independent sellers and it will only be a matter of time before consumers begin to drift towards the mesmerizing glow of corporate Earth's discount specials…"
"Bee, why don't you get a cup of S.T.F.U. and spare me the conspiracy theories?"
"Cy, what you don't know could hurt you."
"I'll tell you what'll hurt: My boot up your ass, that's what."
Robin stepped it, sighing. "Knock it off, you two, it's not helping. Cy, have you heard of anything like this happening anywhere else? Maybe they found a solution."
Cyborg gave it some thought. "Not for this situation, no. I mean; we've had plasma cells evaporating because some fool thought it would work on a fourth quadrant ship, but that was a no-brainer. Fourth quadrant ships aren't up to specs, so naturally, the plasma cells wouldn't work. There have been factory meltdowns and defective containers, and then there's the usual wear and tear, but nothing like this where everything is up to specs."
"Was it like this for the other two plasma cells that gave?"
"Well I didn't think so at first, or else I would've called your attention to it already, but now I'm not so sure. The first one completely burnt out. It was the oldest cell in the set. That sort of thing happens every once in a while; plasma cells don't last forever. So while that was out, it was possible that we were running on six plasma cells instead of seven while we were on hyper-speed, so that put a stress on the other plasma cells, especially the one nearest to it. That was the second cell that gave. This one right here… it shouldn't be deteriorating like this. It was running with six other perfect cells, two of which were new. And this one isn't even old enough to start burning out. Something's contaminating it. I just don't know what and how."
This did not sit well with Robin. "So in the meantime, we just have to hope that none of the other plasma cells give. Is the reserve cell enough to get us to Drava-Airyn?"
"It should be."
"Better than nothing. Maybe you could try to analyze the plasma in this cell; find out what's making it react this way."
Cyborg shook his head. "I'll need a vacuum chamber for that and we don't have that. I open this thing in a regular lab and the contaminated plasma could be contaminated even more. I'll never be able to pinpoint one contaminant from another. If it stops deteriorating right this minute, maybe we could have it analyzed in Drava-Airyn before its chemical composition completely breaks down. At this time, I have no way of suspending the deterioration process."
"How about cryo-preservation?" Ships, especially ones that traveled long and far, had Cryo-Chamber Requirements. When a ship got stranded in some far, uncharted domain of space, the materials necessary to sustain life dwindling, it was highly advisable to cryogenically freeze the crew in order to survive without food and water for at least another two years; the assumed time it took for a random fellow-traveler to find them and initiate their rescue. There were even pet-friendly cryo-chambers.
Cyborg shook his head again. "The process will alter the composition of the plasma. Sorry, champ, but this cell's gone."
"Great… on top of everything else…"
Beast Boy arched an eyebrow. "Everything else? Why? What else is wrong?"
Robin wanted to hit him over the head with a plasma cell. Everything was going nuts: Raven wanted to kill them, Starfire wanted to drive him insane and Terra… he didn't know what Terra wanted to do.
"Have you been asleep this entire time, Bee?" asked Cyborg. "If you hadn't noticed, two very troublesome women have joined us on the ship and they're turning Robin into a Pepto-Bismol-holic."
Beast Boy scoffed. "The way I see it, we have a couple more babes in this testosterone infested ship. Don't get me wrong. I like cute, blonde and perky, but it's nice looking at dark curvaceous brunettes and feisty long-legged redheads in skimpy outfits once in a while, too, if you know what I mean." He grinned and jerked his eyebrow up and down.
Robin glared at him, feeling his temper flare. Somehow, hearing Beast Boy objectifying Starfire felt intensely grating. "Well, while you're gawking at other women, you might be forgetting the one you're supposed to be paying attention to."
Beast Boy jolted in surprise. "What? What the fu—"
Cyborg immediately stepped in. "Alright, we flew off tangent there for a second. Champ, now, you know that's none of our business, yo."
Robin backed off, nodding in acquiescence. "It's not. I'm just saying, that's all."
Cyborg sighed, turning to Beast Boy. "Bee, the chief's been under a lot of stress. Don't push it, aight?"
Beast Boy frowned, but he said nothing.
"Now," continued Cyborg. "This here plasma cell problem is something we all ought to work on. Bee, maybe Terra has the hardware and software to take a look at this without breaking it open. Maybe some digital analysis…"
Still eyeing Robin suspiciously, Beast Boy took the plasma cell. "I'll see what she could do for us."
"Yeah, it'll be good if you could do it now."
Beast Boy arched his eyebrow in Cyborg's direction but did as he was asked without a word of protest. Beast Boy left, shutting the door behind him.
Cyborg shot Robin a pointed look. "Man, I can't believe you went there."
Robin put his hands up in surrender. "I probably shouldn't have said that—"
"You think?"
Robin rolled his eyes. "But I'm glad I said it, anyway. Apart from those two needing to talk, I'm tired of hearing Beast Boy clowning around. I mean, for fuck's sake… he jokes about everything!"
"Robin, we talked about how you should bring that particular subject up with Beast Boy."
"So I screwed up. Big deal. Maybe he'll learn it better from Terra when she tells him she's leaving and she didn't even factor him in her decision to go."
"Man, you don't know even know if she's going or staying."
"I talked to Terra. She never brought up Bee's name. I had to bring it up. And no wonder, too. Did you hear him talking about the other women? Apparently, he doesn't even take Terra seriously."
Cyborg's brows knotted in confusion. "Dude… I know you're worried about Terra, and I'm pretty sure you're worried about Beast Boy… but you being worried about Terra and Beast Boy together? I never knew you took interest in those kinds of things…"
Robin felt a flush rise up his cheeks but he stubbornly held on to his resolve. "I don't. It's just that I feel Terra would be better off staying in this ship, but she's the only one who has a say in the matter, and Beast Boy isn't helping at all being some chick magnet Casanova. Didn't he listen to his mother? Women like their men faithful."
Cyborg took a pregnant pause. "Are you worried about how Beast Boy treats Terra… or are you worried about how Beast Boy treats… the other girls?"
Robin frowned. "You are not going there."
"Question is: Did you go there?"
"Shut up, Cy. You know what I'm going through right now. If I had to choose one woman out of the three to stay in this ship, I'd choose Terra. She's the one I trust the most."
"Good thing you don't have to choose."
Robin shot him a glare but let the comment pass unanswered. "At any rate, the plasma cells are a more pressing issue. I can't afford to lose any more plasma cells this year. I'm still on budget, but who the hell loses three plasma cells in two days?"
"Would you exchange Terra for a plasma cell?"
"Don't be a dick, Cy."
Cyborg chuckled. "I'm glad to see your priorities are straight."
"I'm up to my eyeballs in priorities. Cut me some slack."
Cyborg grinned, closing the plasma core panels. "Let's get out of here. There's nothing else we could do but wait. Maybe Terra will have something for us when dinner comes around."
"Maybe," said Robin, turning to leave the plasma chamber with Cyborg.
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Dinner was not what Robin had expected. Fifteen minutes after Robin and Cyborg first sat down for their instant cup noodles, Beast Boy was the only other person there. It seemed that the women had completely abandoned them.
Robin looked at Cyborg and Beast Boy pointedly. "Speaking of testosterone infested..."
Cyborg gave a tragic sigh, opening his first cup of ten. "You missing the womenfolk already?"
Robin took it in stride. "Actually, I'm missing only one of them. Bee, where's Terra?"
Beast Boy didn't look up from his cup of noodles. "She took her dinner to her room; said she had to work on the plasma cell."
"Has she found anything out yet?"
"Nope."
Robin figured there wasn't anything more he could ask about Terra without sounding too nosy. He steered his thoughts and he wondered momentarily if Starfire was skipping dinner or if she had a stock of her own food.
He was so caught up in this train of thought that he was surprised when Beast Boy's voice broke through his reverie.
"Chief, why did you say what you said in the Plasma Chamber? About Terra and I?"
Robin's eyebrows lifted in surprise and Cyborg stopped, mid-slurp, to stare first as Beast Boy, and then at his captain.
Mostly, Robin wasn't pleased with the sudden turn of events. He had thought his part in Beast Boy's personality development over, but it seemed that was not the case. Nevertheless, he wasn't so heartless as to shoo Beast Boy away just because talking about relationships made him uneasy.
"Because it needed to be said," replied Robin. "But you really should talk to Terra about all this, not me."
Beast Boy gave a dejected shrug. "Terra and I haven't been talking very seriously lately, chief. I have no idea what's going on in her mind right now."
Robin eyed him intently, wondering if Beast Boy even knew Terra's probationary period was ending. "Bee, do you know that she's up for—you know…"
"Release? Yeah. Of course I know. I've been kind of asking her about that. What her plans are… just so—you know—I don't just suddenly wake up one day and be surprised that she'd left without saying goodbye…"
Cyborg slurped his noodles and waved his chopsticks dismissively. "Well, if the girl don't wanna talk, there's nothing you could do about it. So the next best thing is to think about what you want to do. If she stays in the ship, you're happy, right? What if she decides to go? What are you going to do?"
Beast Boy rolled his eyes. "Hello! What do you think I would do? Hang myself in my room with a suicide note in the pocket of my coat? Do I look like a drama king? I'll just get on with my life, probably with this ship. Pay's good. Company isn't bad either. It'll just be weird, that's all…" He sighed, leaning over the table and leaning his cheek against his propped up hand. He picked at his noodles momentarily with his chopsticks then nudged the cup away, a blank stare on his face. "Women… can't live with them, can't get them to stay after their parole period's up."
Robin looked away. He couldn't believe he was listening to someone else's love problems. This hadn't been in his job description.
He caught Cyborg giving him a pointed look and he scowled.
What the hell does Robot Man want me to do?
As if to answer his thoughts, Cyborg darted his good eye towards Beast Boy.
Robin shot Cyborg a withering glance, and gritting his teeth, he struggled to give words of comfort. "I could always get another pretty Coordinator…"
Cyborg did not look like he approved and Beast Boy didn't look like he appreciated the offer.
It occurred to Robin that long ago, when he, as a little boy, had shown sadness because the princess who was his playmate would be leaving soon, his godfather had offered comfort along the same lines. It hadn't helped him feel better either.
Against his better judgment, Robin tried again. "Look BB, Terra has become more responsible since she first joined us on the ship, and I really believe that whatever she decides to do, it'll be what's best for her. She's a big girl now. She knows what she's doing. It'll be alright."
"Maybe." Beast Boy got up from the table. "I'm gonna turn in early today. I'm a little beat. See you in the morning." He walked through the mess hall and out the doors, Robin and Cyborg watching him leave.
Robin went back to his cup of noodles, mumbling under his breath. "All this drama is killing me."
Cyborg eyed Beast Boy's abandoned cup. "I guess he's not going to eat that anymore."
"No, he won't. Go ahead and knock yourself out."
To be continued…
Reflections of Beast Boy: I can't believe I talked to the captain about relationships... that's like the blind leading the blind.
Author's note: Ah, but this did take long! Life happens when you're making fanfics.