Author's Note: Cap'n Short, thank you for your glowing
review, I'm very grateful. In response I wqould say that the Templars
were not in fact coming to Earth but merely to the universe in which
Earth exists. So they are on another planet, or perhaps an asteroid.
Evilsangel, thank you as well, I am glad it is to your approval. I hope
everyone enjoys this chapter.
Cold Steel
Ursula Lazuli cursed the day she had joined the guild, quite literally, when swearing failed to satisfy her she had to content herself with kicking a mark into the concrete wall of her cell.
Though she had been given considerable training in emotional manipulation when the despair of being caged came it carried all before it, destroying all the protections stony faced mentors had pounded into her mind.
There was nothing to stand against it, the monotony stretched hours into days, days into weeks, weeks into months.
The faceless mask of her captor ambled into her mind and a particularly vicious kick sent a reasonable chunk of concrete flying past her shoulder.
From some hidden piece of technology came the smooth tones that belied sadistic and murderous intent, "Calm down my dear, you should spare your strength for your next assignment."
Despite the murderous fury the voice conjured Ursula's curiosity was piqued, "Assignment?"
"Oh yes, letting talent like yours rot in that hell hole would be most unproductive."
For a rare moment Ursula softened as she remembered her first instructor saying those words, then she realised what he would have thought if he had known she was becoming nostalgic in the middle of the enemy base of operations.
"I am not authorised to perform operations not sanctioned by the Guild," recited Ursula tonelessly. The phrase was drilled into every student to pass through the hidden gates, the Guild had its own interests to protect and unregulated assassins were very dangerous.
"How," the sickening voice paused, "disappointing."
The door to her cell opened and two of the robotic constructs marched in. They took her arms in their crushingly strong silver hands and dragged her out.
After days in the semi darkness of her cell the assassin found the bright light of the naked bulbs hanging from the ceil of the corridor nigh on unbearable.
Without thinking she shut her eyes, obviously this was what her captor wanted.
Eventually the light shining through her eyelids became less painful and she flutteringly opened them.
She was in yet another dingy hall that was undoubtedly part of the same decrepit complex. Standing on the boundary between shade and total darkness was her jailer.
"Now, are you sure you'd like to persist with your uncooperativeness?" he asked, face, voice, and posture unreadable.
"Of course."
"Then, I'm afraid, we will have to change your mind." He gestured and the robots tied her to the table in the centre of the room.
More constructs came forward. They surrounded her and their master clicked his fingers. The machines raised their implements and began to work.
Ursula had succumbed, she despised herself for it, her friends would have despised her for it, in fact, any of her old associates would have despised her for it.
Naturally the knowledge that the people amongst whose company you have you're life for the last years would hate you is not a great motivation, under normal circumstances that is.
But then, if she succeeded, she would be the only assassin ever to be successful in overcoming a target that had put the Guild's best operatives in jail. That might win back a little respect.
Of course that was assuming that she was successful, all those before her hadn't been.
Her target was possibly the single person in the City with the most prices on his spiky haired head. The Boy Wonder, The Cop's Nightmare, The T Man, the list of absurd nicknames went on and on.
Naturally attacking such a well-known and well-protected target on his own turf would be suicidal, fortunately, Ursula had a small army of robots at her command.
The plan was simple, yet completely watertight until the section where it began to try her own limitations.
By some agreement the Titans were allowed to be the first to be notified and to attempt to combat any activity bearing the hallmarks of her new employer.
Therefore, any disturbance perpetrated by her robotic thralls would automatically bring the Titans running.
So, with everything in position, all she had to do was lie in wait.
Raven sat solemnly in meditation, days had gone by, life was settling peacefully back into its old routine.
With a practiced ease tempered by annoyance Raven systematically blocked out all extraneous noise. First the moronic blaring of the console with which Cyborg and Beast Boy were so deeply infatuated, then the hum of the stove gradually manufacturing one of the instruments of torture that the Tamaranians called delicacies, finally she removed the pointless trifling chatter that for some reason beyond her comprehension managed to entertain her team mates.
Her breathing settled into a steady rhythm. She cleared her mind of all the excess clutter that had built up and began her soft chanting.
"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos. Azarath Metrion Zinthos. Azarath Metrion Zinthos."
In seconds she was lost on an ocean of complete internal focus.
Raven was something of a poet, but then, to list the talents of the extraordinary individual that walked under the name of Raven Roth would be to confine yourself to a work that would take the best part of a life. A thorough education in Azarath makes sure of that for even the most mundane individuals.
Sometimes in meditation verses would suggest themselves to her mind, sliding from the periphery of her consciousness unbidden but not unwelcome. She wrote the best specimens down, but never, quite definitely never, showed them to anyone. Sometimes she regretted the fact that she didn't trust any of her friends with these precious insights into her soul. Perhaps, she thought, being in an open-minded mood, if they erect a memorial when I'm dead they could inscribe one of them.
Though admitting it was impossible Raven found the thought of only opening up once she was safely cremated depressing, so, telling herself that too much emotion was dangerous, she moved her mind on.
After uncounted minutes of deep soul searching Raven was cruelly wrenched from her near trance like state.
The all too familiar special alarm was blaring.
"Slade!" yelled Robin, although nobody required the confirmation. They had been called out by that sound too many times for that.
The team piled down the stair into the garage cum hanger bay where the collection of vehicles employed by the outfit lay at rest. Raven phased through the ceil after the others, having taken a moment to affix her new sabre to her belt. After all, if a few robots were slashed apart no one was going to complain.
They shuffled into the car that was their main means of transportation and Cyborg revved up the engine.
Instead of waiting for the mechanical bridge that could extend to join the tower's island and the shore to finish its expansion Cyborg jumped the final gap over the rolling water.
The car landed and Cyborg pushed it to its limitations as well as his in getting to the scene as fast as possible.
Soon long rows of buildings came into view.
Great, Raven thought, a crime in cube town. Couldn't the designers have thought of something, anything, to prevent this area being swallowed up by the ugly monstrosities that constituted the architecture of the warehouses? Cuboids of rectangular corrugated iron, ugh. Building a beast like that would have constituted a crime back in Azarath.
Was it too much to hope that Slade had come across some rival crime lord and the result of the skirmish would be two extremely high profile arrests for the Titans? Probably.
It became obvious that this was not the case when they got to the scene of the crime.
The robots seemed to acting completely randomly.
Raven watched as one raked its claws across the thin iron that made up the wall nearest to the Titans and took away a fair chunk of metal. Looking through the doors that hung open on its less than completely trustworthy hinges Raven could see the machines firing random laser bursts with no particular purpose.
Raven decided that she didn't have the time. Instead of applying her mind to the situation she marched into the doorway, psychically dismantling the robots idiotic enough to cause mayhem outside the doors.
Robin shouted a line, Raven could guess what it was, that brought her friends running, flying, and in one case, galloping to her side.
They stood there in a line as every robot in the building turned to face them.
Robin flicked out his gilded Tamaranian quarterstaff.
Raven drew her sword.
And the robots charged.
The Titans met the first wave unmoving; Raven swung her sword in two flashing strokes that cleaved three of the constructs neatly in two. Robin smashed one up into the air and drove his staff through the head of another before smashing the first one out of the air onto one of its comrades.
Dust whirled around them, then settled slowly.
Raven knew that was wrong, they should have been mobbed, but instead the robots were standing back against the far wall.
She looked across at Robin, "Do we go forth?"
He nodded.
The robots had one thing on their side, any sane creature would have broken and run at the sight of a charge containing enraged aliens and massive dinosaurs, the robots were too stupid to.
But before the Titans had reached halfway their leader was smashed aside by a figure that could only have come from the roof. The initial impact of the obviously female figure sent the leader flying, he landed painfully but managed to gasp, "You keep going, I can deal with this."
Starfire quite simply did not hear him, there was too much blood pounding in her ears. In the simplistic manner that she fell into when anger overtook her she walked right in front of the woman who had landed gracefully several feet further than Robin and punched her.
The princess's right fist swung upwards, not surrounded by a corona, she was to angry for that, and made contact with her enemy's jaw. Blood spurted from the point of contact, the pressure forcing it into the crisp air. The body of her friend's assailant flew backwards several paces and lay still.
Too surprised by what she had done to capitalise on it Starfire stood in place for several seconds, seemingly frozen, then began to help Robin.
She was smashed to the ground by the woman who swept her feet away then drew two short swords.
Robin managed to regain his balance and bring up his staff to block the first blow. Yet the assassin struck again, and again, moving with an athletic ballet style grace that forced the Titan backwards again and again.
The assassin saw an opening in Robin's defence, and struck.
Raven saw, and her eyes flickered wide.
She took the blow to her own stomach, teleporting instantly and without thinking.
The sword slid into her gut where it was enveloped in a black aura. Raven's head turned slowly, her eyes were glowing with the white heat of a furnace. She swept up a hand and the assassin was sent flying against the far wall.
Raven took a moment to stand up. Robin recognised the signs, the intense white glow from the eyes, the perfectly upright posture, and, when they came, the calmly enunciated tones.
"I am carefully refraining from crushing in your skull without laying a finger on your worthless form. I suggest you give me some reason to continue being as controlled as I am at the moment."
The assassin took a second to think about it, that was almost to long, "I warn y-" began Raven.
"Slade," said the assassin, cutting her of.
"Wise decision," stated Raven, her eyes narrowing and her hand that had been subconsciously creeping upwards falling back to her side.
