Alright, I'm back. Sorry for the delay, I had to deal with college, and a summer course. Luckily, by the time of this writing, I have two more days left.
New Plymto.
A temperate terrestrial planet in the Core Worlds region populated by the alien species known as the Nosaurians. Prior to the Clone Wars, around roughly several centuries after the end of the Old Sith Wars, New Plympto was welcomed into the Galactic Republic as a source of rikknit eggs, the Nosaurians' chief export. However, they were denied representation in the Galactic Senate and eventually grew alienated. Soon enough, the market for rikknit eggs evaporated and New Plympto was, for all intents and purposes, abandoned by commercial interests. With the outbreak of the Clone Wars, the Confederacy of Independent Systems recruited New Plympto to their cause with the promise of reviving the rikknit egg market and rebuilding the planet's economy.
However, this wasn't the only reason why the Confederacy recruited New Plympto to their ranks. Secretly, New Plympto was a haven for dealings with the black market; Arms trafficking, illegal drug trade, counterfeit consumer goods are several of the many examples that the markets, set up by the Confederacy, contain. But the most damning of these markets is the horrific ordeals of human trafficking, no matter the gender, race, or age of the person forced into these dark acts.
It was this reason that brought the Dark Knight to New Plympto.
"Slavery…" the Batman thought to himself, crouched down on top of a roof rafter overlooking a shady-looking spaceport. "One of the most disgusting ideas that a living being could have created, even more so than murder. The taking of life, anyone's life, is unforgivable and something that I swore that I would never stoop too, but to take innocent people and sell them like they're nothing but tools is just as unforgivable."
The cool chill of the night softly blew over him, but he paid no heed to it, still lost deep inside his thoughts.
"I still try to stomach the sight of seeing women and children of various species and ages locked up in electric cages like animal, awaiting to be bought by some worthless scum."
Normally, in the sectors of the Republic, it was made highly illegal by the Rights of Sentience clause, but continues to grow, primarily in the Outer Rim Territories owned by the crime syndicates such as the Hutt Cartels or the Black Sun. But New Plympto wasn't a part of the Republic, the Dark Knight mused bitterly to himself. Despite its position in the Core Worlds, the Nosaurian homeworld was one of the few planets close to the galactic capital that was firmly allied to Count Dooku's Confederacy of Independent Systems.
"Or, more appropriately, one of the top contenders for "Biggest Hypocrites" in the galaxy." He thought, scowling fiercely to himself. He had met the Separatist's Head of State a long time ago during one of the many parties he hosted at his manor a few months before the outbreak of the Clone Wars where the former Jedi Master had tried to convince him to let the Separatists make an alliance with Kea'ton Enterprises to increase the production of battle droids for defense against pirates.
When footage of the Battle of Geonosis came to his desk a few months later, he found himself relieved that he didn't make the wrong choice.
He shook his head; There was no time to think about the mistakes that you could've made, but on the current events that contain the life of a young child. Narrowing his gaze at the individuals standing near the dingy-looking freighter, Batman tapped a button on the side of his cowl, activating his Detective Mode and managed to count out how many thugs were guarding the ship.
"Five guards, all armed to the teeth. Easy enough." Batman thought, slowly standing up to avoid notice from any of the five thugs, though there had originally been six of them, but the "hidden" sniper on the roof rafter hadn't noticed the Dark Knight until he saw the gloved fist coming his way.
Glancing above the thugs, he spotted the bright lights, a stark contrast to the dark spaceport, and noticed that they were all connected to a series of wires. He slowly traced the wires back to a fuse box near one of the spaceports entrances, and it just so happens to have no guards standing nearby it.
He smirked to himself. "Good," he thought, pulling out a batarang from his belt. "This'll make things a bit easier for me."
With the speed of a Teek on a sugar-rush, he threw the batarang towards the fuse box, and none of the guards noticed the shiny black weapon making its way to the fusebox, either caught up in small conversations with one another or indulging themselves to a good smoke and drink, until the batarang smashed into the fusebox, destroying almost immediately among contact.
"What the?!" one guard choked out, some ashes from his death stick falling down his windpipe and was now trying to force it out of his system.
"I can't see anything!"
"Fierfrek, is it the Jedi?!"
"Nope… just me."
The Batman jumped down from his position on the balcony, and landed on the ground just a few inches away from a trembling guard. Slowly approaching the guard, the Batman latched onto the mercenary in a chokehold, pulling him to the ground as he slowly prevents the air around them, and the blood in the mercenary's neck, from going to his head. Within moments, he was out like a light.
Dropping the mercenary like he was a sack of mushrooms, the Batman glanced up to see a guard nearby who was trying to find a light on him. But the Dark Knight wasn't having any of it, and immediately sprinted over to the merc to plant a hard kick to the alien's gut. Judging by the loud groans of pain that escaped from the mercenary's mouth, he guessed that he might have broken a few of his ribs. Good.
In the far corner of the spaceport, a light suddenly turned on, and reflected off the rusty plating of the freighter. Scowling, Batman then whips out his grappling gun, and shoots it up to one of the nearby rafters. Within seconds, he finds himself on the aged rafter, silently overlooking the small group of thugs that were now crowding around the thug with the cracked ribs.
"Jirag!" Ah. So that was his name.
"Oh man," one of the guards muttered out. "Zeke's out too!" He indicated to the first merc that the Batman had dispose of, trying to shake him awake only to realize that he was out cold by the pile of drool forming underneath his cheek
"This is it!" Another guard exclaimed in fear. "We're caught, man. We're done for, it's game over!" The Batman couldn't help but be impressed by this. At this point, most scum would be shooting at the corners to draw him out, but this group instead dissolved into panicking among themselves. He was getting better at this gig. This did little to stop him from swinging to another rafter nearby, while the mercs yelled among one another.
"Where the hell is our sniper at?!" the head guard, the Batman's true target, inquired in frustration.
An idea then popped in the vigilante's head. Careful enough to not make any sort of noise, he quickly made his way back to the area of the unconscious sniper to find said merc's deadly looking sniper rifle. Perfect, he thought as he pulled out a rifle-disrupter prototype model, straight out of the labs of Kea'ton Enterprises through the help of its top scientist. Lucien, don't fail me now.
Peering over the ledge, he spotted a Quarren guard without a blaster on him, but held a dulled vibroblade in his trembling, leathery hands. With a tiny smirk, Batman chucked the rifle over the ledge and immediately begin grappling to the other across from his vicinity. By the time he landed on the rafter, the thug heard the rifle hit the ground behind him and shined a light around to find the source of that noise, as the tentacles on its squid-like head began to wiggle around violently. A nervous reaction among its kind, Batman noted.
As the Quarren slowly inched his way forward, his foot brushed up against the rifle, causing the Quarren to jump violently in his place before glancing down to see the rifle sitting there, almost innocently, as it silently beckoned for the mercenary to take it up into the Quarren's meaty arms so that it could protect him from certain harm.
Without hesitation, the Quarren obeyed the rifle's silent command.
"Hey!" a Quermian thug, easily distinguishable by its long elongated neck, approached the Quarren with two other thugs, Batman's target and a Sullustan female, jogged over to investigate the Quermian's yell. "Where'd ya find that?"
"It was right here on the ground, and I found it first!" the Quarren snapped, clutching the rifle to his chest as if it were a small child. "If you want one of your own, pick it off one of the others, yah long-necked freak!"
The Quermian sneered. "What the hell did you call me, ya frakkin'—!"
"Wait a minute," the Sullustan female suddenly spoke out, her soft, alien voice echoing in the spaceport's condensed area as she placed a gloved hand on the rifle. "Isn't that Ben's rifle?"
As realization begun to set in, Batman saw this as his moment to strike and triggered the disrupter which immediately sent over a thousand volts into both the Quarren and the Sullustan, sending them flying back onto the ground, immediately unconscious the moment they hit the earth. The Quermian and Batman's target jumped backwards away from the rifle, staring at it in shock as they slowly began to realize that they were the other two conscious beings left in their group. "Circle up," the target snapped, his blaster rifle humming quietly with the safety off. "Back-to-back now!"
Gulping, the Quermian complied without complaint. But as he did this, a smoke pellet suddenly landed on the ground next to the two, and it took them only a microsecond to realize what it was before the area around them became shrouded in smoke. The two criminals began coughing loudly, their lungs quickly filling up with the dense smoke, as they tried to make their way out of the haze to get some fresh air. Using this to his advantage, the Dark Knight leaped from his hiding spot and straight into the heart of the smoke cloud. Landing without a sound, Batman used his Detective Mode to find where the Quermian was at, and caught sight of the long-necked alien on his knees outside the smoke cloud, his eyes watering from the intense smoke.
Bingo. The Dark Knight's sight aimed on his new target, he took off running at the alien, who heard the rapidly approaching footsteps and managed to turn around to see a dark blur lung for him and he barely had anytime to scream before darkness claimed his vision. With the Quermian knocked, Batman turned his full attention to his target—
-and froze when he saw the target holding the blaster rifle, and was now aiming the weapon right at him. Kriff.
"DIE, YOU FREAK—" whatever vulgar talk the criminal had in mind for his attacker was silenced over the sounds of repetitive blaster bolts being shot at towards Batman, who immediately ducks from the first several bolts before leaping to one of the nearby crates as the target changes his aim. He silently thanked whatever made these crates durable as the blaster bolts smashed relentlessly into them, showering the Dark Knight in bright sparks that caused a hiss of pain to sneak out of his lips as they made contact with his exposed skin. Dammit, he thought darkly to himself, crouching down to avoid being shot. I don't have time for this.
Quickly formulating a plan in his intelligent brain, the Dark Knight reached into his utility belt and pulled out one of his signature weapons; the Batarang. However, this was a special variation of the Batarang. This version of the Batarang was useful for hitting objects that are out of reach, built with brakes and acceleration, and allows fine control over its movements.
Lucien called it the Remote Control Batarang.
Taking a deep breath, the Batman chucked the batarang over the crate and waited for a moment as the blaster bolts stopped and the spaceport was soon echoing with the sound of the target's toxic laughter. "Are you kidding me?!" he guffawed. "That's gotta be the most pathe—"
The target's laughter soon turned into cries of pain as the Remote Batarang slammed into the back of his head with the speed of a freight train. Instinctively dropping the rifle from pain, the target stumbled around, his vision going dizzy, and making him defenseless to the dark shadow who leapt at the thug and firmly planted a right hook into his jaw. A couple of teeth immediately flew out of his mouth from the sheer force of the blow, along with several huge globs of blood that stained the dirty ground beneath his boots. Before his back could hit the ground, he felt something grab him by the throat, causing the target to cry out in pain and immediately looked up to lock eyes with the glowing, pure-white ones of the Batman.
And suddenly, he wished that he had been the one who found that rifle first.
"N-n-no! NO!" he cried out in fear, trying to pry himself free of the Batman's iron grip, but quickly learned that trying to do so was impossible to accomplish.
"Be quiet," the growl that emerged from Batman's lips nearly made the target soil his trousers from fear. "Now I'm going to ask you one question, and if you fail to comply, you'll be walking out of here with more than just a bruise on the back of your head. Understood?"
With sweat forming at the brow of his head, the target rapidly nodded his head in silent compliance to the Dark Knight's demands.
"Good." the Dark Knight said in satisfaction. "Now, who bought Gaeriel Jae?"
A look of confusion replaced the fear on his face. "Wh-who?" he whimpered, only to regret his question when the Dark Knight's visage grew angrier and he felt the grip on his windpipe slowly tighten even further. The action forced him to close his eyes in displeasure, and when he opened his eyes, he came face-to-face to a holographic projection of a smiling Nosaurian girl that was projecting from Batman's left arm. Staring into the innocent child's face suddenly made something click into the target's brain. "Wa-wait… yeah. Yeah, I saw her here! In one of the markets." Licking his lips, he rasped out. "Sh-she was just sold to someone today."
"Who?"
"I… I don't know." Judging by the rapidly darkening expression on Batman's face, the target knew that pain was soon to follow from his timid response. "Bu-but I do know the name of the guys who took her to the buyer."
"Who?!" Batman snapped, his patience on the verge of snapping in two.
"Dengar!" the target squealed out, his feet quaking in fear. "An-and his Rodian pal, uhm… Zeebo? Uh… n-n-no, Greedo! Yeah, if I'm not mistaken, they should be at Holdfast's about now."
The look of anger fell away to a stoic, emotionless look. "Thank you for the cooperation. Have a nice nap."
"…huh?" He uttered completely confused.
Before he could react, the Batman launched a quick left hook straight into the target's temple, instantly knocking him out. Tossing the worthless garbage to the ground, the Dark Knight spun on his heel and began marching to the freighter's open hatch with a determined look in his eyes. As he does this, a sharp beeping began to ring inside his cowl, and he raised a head to activate the secret commlink imbedded into the cowl. "Yes, Alfred?"
"Ah, Master Kea'ton," the soft voice of his aged caretaker echoed inside his cowl. "It's good to hear your voice again. I was afraid that you had gotten lost on your first adventure outside Coruscant's borders. Tell me, have you behaved properly?"
With a smirk, Batman glanced at the unconscious mercs. "Of course."
His boots echoed loudly through the freighter's corridors as he walked about, eyeing each corner that he came up with a cautious eye. True to his Detective Mode's sensors, there were no living lifeforms inside the vessel, but he still felt an odd chill crawl up his spine; Months of experience had made him learn to trust that instinct as a sort of warning for any kind of danger. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks when his audio-sensors picked up something from one of the many rooms in the freighter. Narrowing his eyes, he slowly approached the source of the sound and placed his head next to the door to get a clearer sense of what he heard. For a moment, he heard nothing inside the room, and was about to brush off the sound as nothing more but the wind until he heard it; a whimper.
He reached for his belt, and pulled out a batarang, taking a moment to admire the polished surface of the weapon and making a mental note to thank Alfred for how clean the blade looked. The Dark Knight pushed the button that then opened the door before him, and he raised the batarang to throw until he froze at what laid before him.
Slaves.
His throat clenched with emotion as he studied them. They were all Nosaurians, but their age limit seemed to be in the area before their pubescent years. The small cell that housed them was old, covered in all sorts of dark blotches that were probably either blood or vomit of some sort with rusty bolts, and jagged edges that were sure to draw out blood. They all wore dirty, torn rags for clothes and stared up at the dark stranger with fear in their eyes and tears falling rapidly.
He was sure that there were tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as well.
"Sir, your heartbeat just spiked immensely. Are you all right?" Alfred's worried voice echoed dimly to the Dark Knight.
"Children." Batman mumbled.
"What?"
"The slaves, Alfred, they're all children."
Alfred's gasp could be heard from the cowl's speakers. "Mother of Moons," the aged butler breathed out, his voice thick with emotion. "What barbaric creatures would do such an act?"
His horror suddenly gave away to cold, hard fury as he clenched his fists so hard that the rancor-leather gloves themselves made a harsh creaking sound. "Dengar." he snarled.
The flinching of the children made Batman snap out of the dark thoughts circulating in his head, each promising all sorts of unspeakable pain saved for the Bounty Hunter, and his face softened. He walked over to the cage, and crouched down in front of it so that he could make eye-contact with what appeared to be the oldest among the group. "Are you all right?" Batman asked, speaking in the Nosaurian's alien language; one of many that he learned during his many years of training across the galaxy.
The child still looked at the stranger in fear, but managed to stammer out. "Wh-who are you?"
"My name is Batman, and I'm here to help you." With that statement, he stood up from his crouched state, and looked around for any kind of console connected to the cell's door. His eyes soon befell upon a small red button in the wall next to him, and pressed a finger to it, holding in the button for approximately three seconds before the door finally opened, allowing the children to emerge from their horrendous living conditions.
One-by-one, the children exited with the cell, twitching and squirming in discomfort as the Batman's eyes scoured over their tiny bodies, and felt his disgust rise with each passing second. All of them had several bruises and scratches on their skins, and some of them were even cradling a limb in pain—an obvious indicator for broken bones in desperate need of a bacta treatment—and even one of them covered with cigarette burns. He felt tears beginning to form in the corner of his eyes, and quickly blinked them away; the mission comes first.
Kneeling down, he continuing speaking in the same tone of voice. "Do you know where your parents are?"
Their quiet sobs spoke more than words ever could.
He let out a shaky, enraged breath as his dark thoughts suddenly allowed a memory, one burned into his skull, to resurface again. A distant memory of a cold night on Coruscant, of a family so happily engrossed in their own joy that they were blind to the creeping danger that was waiting for them right at the end of the alleyway behind the theater they had just walked out of. He forced that nightmare back into the back of his mind, focusing on the ones who have lost the people they loved... just like him.
He shook his head; this wasn't the time to stir up old wounds. Pressing a gloved finger to his comlink, he spoke quietly, "Alfred, send out an anonymous call to the Nosaurian authorities. Tell them I've found children in the freighter at the spaceport, and I'm on my way to apprehend the suspects behind this." He paused for a moment, staring at the small group as his cowl captured a holo-pic of them before transferring it to Alfred. "Did you get it?"
"Mother of moons," Alfred whispered, his voice quavering abit. "What vile creature could do such a thing?"
"Attach the picture to the call, and tell them to check the homes of each children for their parents. They may still be there." He spun on his heel, and walked out of the room in a silent fury. "Have you found Dengar's location yet?"
"Indeed," The warm voice of his caretaker fell away to a tone as cold as the vacuum of space. "I've tracked the bounty hunter and his accomplice to a bar in the western regions. Be on your guard, Dengar's armed with a variety of weapons; blaster rifles, a few grenades, and a vibroblade."
Good, he may be intoxicated. Despite his reputation through the Outer Rim, the few beings lucky enough to escape Dengar's wrath often remarked about the bounty hunter's over-confidence, and how easily angered he could be. But he was a brutal fighter, trained in the fighting style of the k'Jtari martial arts during his initiation in the Bounty Hunters' Guild. It's been many years since Batman fought a bounty hunter, the last one being a Gen'Dai that he miraculously managed to escape from before the brute could smash in his skull. But Dengar was human, not an alien or a droid, real flesh-and-blood like the Dark Knight.
A bitter smile grew on his face, it was time for Dengar and his associates to answer for his crimes.
Well there it is, I'd like to thank Transformers g1's-Prime for editing this. Good night and good luck to anyone reading this.