AN: I'm a bit later than usual but it's still Sunday in some parts of the world so I'm all good. This chapter has some pretty big plot developments. Also banter between Nightwing and Slade because those two can't help themselves but poke at each other's biggest weaknesses. :D

Content warning for: creepy Conductor + human experimentation + negotiations about human trafficking (what a content warning to use. I have never expected one like that to pop up…)

Ruby Warrior Girl 730: Yep. Artemis is going to become Tigress. The circumstances will be quite different from the show. I like the idea of her moving on to a more adult identity. The identity of Artemis is still very much associated with her being Green Arrow's sidekick while Tigress is more independent. How that will happen, you'll see…

Haha! Nice to know that you like Themis. OCs are always a bit tricky but I have plans with her which no canon-character was suited for. You'll see what happens with Damian. I can neither confirm nor deny. ;)

16. Project Titan

Friday came quickly. The day that Luthor wanted Nightwing for his secret project. Nightwing couldn't help but feel nervous. In their prior meetings, Slade had worked as a buffer for Nightwing. Today, this buffer wouldn't be there anymore.

They were about to drive to an address Luthor had given them – which was theoretically in the middle of nowhere. Nightwing didn't doubt though that Luthor had something nefarious hidden there.

Nightwing paced around the kitchen, trying to walk off his nervosity. It didn't work. He was already in costume, waiting for Slade to be ready finally.

Walking didn't help. So, Nightwing jumped onto the kitchen counter and swung his feet.

His hands clasped around the counter and he had to focus to not crush the material under his hand. Deathstroke likely wouldn't appreciate property damage in his safehouse.

"Hurry up, Slade", Nightwing yelled in the direction of Deathstroke's walk-in closet.

"Fuck off, kid", was Slade's charming answer.

Nightwing rolled his eyes. Slade had been avoidant ever since their conversation in the car. He only interacted with Nightwing when he ordered Nightwing to spar with him. The mercenary seemed almost too eager in their spars, gloating over every little victory.

Nightwing didn't comment on Slade's weird behavior. The mercenary was unreadable though Nightwing suspected that he was brooding about something. Maybe about something Nightwing had said?

Nightwing found himself becoming more than a bit lonely. He missed his dad, his Team and his brother. He refused to attempt to spend more time with Slade though. Nightwing's wasn't so needy that he sought company from a supervillain who obviously only tolerated his presence.

Deathstroke entered the kitchen. He looked at Nightwing with an unimpressed gaze.

"Are you sitting on my kitchen counter?", Slade asked.

"Yes."

"You have no manners."

"I a Talon. Talons not have manners."

"Don't pull the Talon-card on me", Slade approached Nightwing with a device that looked like a gun.

Nightwing tensed.

"Relax, bird. I'm not killing you, though I may feel the need to."

"What is?"

"It's a subdermal tracker from Star Labs. Too small for even Luthor to detect."

"How you know?"

"Because no matter what Luthor says, I'm still part of the stupid Light. I know what they know", Slade sounded bitter, "Give me your wriest."

Nightwing shoved up the sleeve of his suit and held out his arm. Slade pressed the device to Nightwing's skin. There was a sharp sting in Nightwing's arm, but he kept his face blank. His wriest started bleeding where the muzzle had touched it. A nasty flesh wound. Black blood dripped onto the kitchen counter as Nightwing wriest twitched to heal itself.

"It hurts like hell, right?", Slade looked down at Nightwing's massacred wriest.

"It do."

"That's why it's only a prototype not ready for use yet."

"But you use on me?", Nightwing should feel offended – he did feel offended.

"I'm not your friend, kid. I'm just the guy you're stuck on this mission with."

"What this imply?", Nightwing jumped off the kitchen counter.

He washed off the black blood to avoid suspicion and pushed his sleeve back.

"I thought you needed the reminder after our last conversation in the car. I'm not your friend. I'm not your mentor. And I'm not your surrogate Dad, no matter what your Daddy issues may tell you."

Nightwing stared at Slade, speechless. What the hell. The audacity of this man to treat Nightwing like a stupid nuisance after everything they had already gone through together. Nightwing had assumed that pulling off a suicidal undercover plan together would lead to at least a sliver of bonding. Nope. Not with this bastard.

Nightwing fought against the urge to hit Slade in the face. No. He was the adult here. He would be the bigger man. Even if hitting Slade proved to be a very enticing option. No. He had more self-control than that.

"You be mean", Nightwing crossed his arms, "And you wrong."

Slade scoffed and walked towards the exit: "You reek of issues, kid. Daddy issues, Grandpa issues – call them whatever you want. You have multiple layers of issues going on."

Screw self-control. Slade was crossing several boundaries here.

"I can be mean, too", Nightwing tilted his head.

"Mean the way a puppy is mean", Slade dismissed Nightwing, his back turned.

"You have midlife crisis, Slade. You are a lonely middle-age man who not know what he want in life. Maybe you even wonder if your life worth it."

Slade's back tensed.

"See? I can be mean."

"Why do you think I have a midlife crisis?", Slade's voice was controlled.

"You scare that you not have it anymore. That you become ob- so – le – te", Nightwing pronounced the word carefully.

Slade balled his fists: "I'm not obsolete. I'm the best there is."

"Cobb destroy you. It hurt your ego. And you know you not can defeat Shiva if you need fight her."

"No one can defeat Shiva."

"No", Nightwing said, "But it still annoy you."

"You annoy me", Slade turned to face Nightwing, glaring at him.

Nightwing hummed in agreement: "I annoy you because Luthor want I replace you. I remind you of your own mor-ta- How say?"

Nightwing signed: 'Mortality.'

"Using a lot of big words today, Bird. Words you can't even pronounce."

"Low blow, Slade. You never go after my speech", Nightwing smiled triumphantly, "Which mean I right."

"Get into the car before I bash your face in."

Nightwing shrugged and left the house. He took his usual spot on the passenger's side. Slade opened the driver's door and sat down. He started the car.

Nightwing found amusement in this conversation. He was used to Slade's bullshit by now and winding him up was fun.

"You know I have solution for your problem", Nightwing said.

Slade stayed quiet, his face moody.

"You need reconnect with your kids. You only define yourself through work. You need find other… outlet. Something where you not need compete. And your kids happy see you again."

"You're talking about things you don't understand", Slade's tone showed that he intended to end this conversation, "I'm a terrible father. My kids hate me, and they don't want to see me."

Nightwing shook his head: "They your kids. Kids want parents."

"Not if their parents are shitty."

"Even if parents are shitty. They want you make effort."

"It gets even better", Slade muttered, "Now, you are projecting your daddy issues onto my kids."

Nightwing crossed his arms: "Fine. Ignore my advice. But it good advice."

"You and your screwed-up mind have no reference about what good advice even constitutes."

Nightwing bit his lip. He pulled his knees to his chest.

"Are you moping?", Slade asked.

Nightwing signed: 'I not talk to you anymore.'

"You're still talking to me", Slade scoffed, "You're talking too much now. Never thought I'd say that to a Talon."

Nightwing bit his lip. He turned his face to the window.

"The silent treatment?", Slade seemed amused, "Some good advice from me, kid: I know you like to meddle in other people's lives, and it worked with Batman for some reason. But I'm not your newest project. I have a great life. I don't need to be fixed."

Nightwing couldn't help but hum in sarcastic agreement.

"Little shit", Slade muttered, "I should throw you out on some cornfield in the middle of nowhere."

Slade stopped the car in the middle of nowhere. Nightwing looked around not seeing anything except cornfield after cornfield.

Slade scoffed in amusement: "Apparently, Luthor did the work for me. That's his address."

"You sure?"

Slade threw a sour look at Nightwing. Nightwing rolled his eyes. Slade was so dramatic.

"Get out", Slade said.

Nightwing did.

"I have better things to do than be your babysitter. I have a contract", Slade said, "Luthor told me to get you here tonight. I don't care what happens in the meantime."

Such a bastard.

Slade turned the car around and drove off – leaving Nightwing in the middle of nowhere. Great.

Nightwing sighed. He remembered his cover and stood at the edge of the road. Folding his arms behind his back like an obedient Talon. He didn't move for half an hour until a black limousine drove up.

The door opened and Luthor said: "Sit down."

Nightwing tensed when he felt a distinct presence. A sugary haze that aimed to worm its way into his mind. The Conductor.

This was bad. Very bad. Had Luthor discovered Nightwing's ruse? Was he using the Conductor to control him?

There was nothing Nightwing could do. He couldn't run. The Conductor could order him to do anything. No. He had to play along, keep up his cover and hope the Conductor being here was merely a coincidence. So, Nightwing sat down in the lion's den.

The only free seat was next to the Conductor. Great. Perfect. It was bad when Nightwing would rather sit next to Luthor than the alternative.

The Conductor smiled at Nightwing: "Long time, no see, Sweetheart."

Nightwing froze at the condescending term of endearment. Nope. He would not do this again. He wouldn't let this creep back into his head. He-

"Are you scared?", the Conductor leaned closer, "Of course, you are. I can sense your fear."

Nightwing tried to give the standard answer of 'Apologize for not understand order' but his throat was closed off. The Conductor was right. Nightwing was terrified. So terrified that he risked breaking cover if he didn't get it together now.

The Conductor hummed thoughtfully: "You recognize me. Should I feel flattered or is there more going on in your empty little head than we all know?"

Nightwing tried to give the standard answer again, but his throat was closed off. He couldn't. He couldn't. He couldn't.

Luthor was watching closely. Nightwing knew that he was the real danger here. The Conductor got off on power but ultimately, Luthor called the shots here.

"Answer me", the Conductor said.

The command rolled through Nightwing's mind. Forcing any resistance away and numbing most of Nightwing's worries. He had to answer this beautiful man.

'Not understand', Nightwing signed.

"Deathstroke mentioned that it has instances where it cannot speak. He didn't mention that it is proficient in sign language", Luthor frowned, "I did not expect a Talon to be capable of such a cognitive capability."

The Conductor seemed to barely give Luthor's observation any thought.

His eyes shone cruelly as he said: "Repeat what you signed. Verbally. Speak."

The pressure in Nightwing's mind was unbearable. There was something holding him back. Something deep. Probably his Court conditioning and all the humiliations Nightwing had endured for talking too much. The Conductor's order steamrolled over it.

Nightwing's mouth was forced open, and he brought out a quiet: "Not understand."

Nightwing was shocked by how small and pathetic his voice sounded. Terrified. So much emotion that a Talon shouldn't have. That his cover shouldn't have. Were Luthor and the Conductor suspicious?

Nightwing's claws dug into his palms and black blood coated his palms. It wasn't enough.

There was an ache in his chest. A unique sense of violation by being forced to speak when he couldn't. He felt the need to scratch at his throat. Rip apart his vocal cords so that he couldn't be forced again.

Nightwing's hands twitched towards his neck, but he knew that he couldn't follow this itch to scratch. He couldn't. He couldn't. His cover was in danger. He couldn't screw it up with his stupid, little issues.

The Conductor was about to order something new when Luthor cleared his throat.

"That's enough. I'm the one to give it orders and it's staining my leather."

Nightwing looked down at the seat. Mortified at the black stains he had left there. He carefully worked to get his face blank again. He couldn't show any more fear. Luthor would notice something was up.

Nightwing opened his mouth to apologize. But he couldn't. The Conductor's voice still rattled through his mind. Making him confused. Terrifying him. This man could get him to do anything with just one word.

Speak.

"I can make it answer to anything - truthfully", the Conductor said, "Do you want to test your new pet's loyalty?"

Nightwing felt fear surge in him. He was screwed. He couldn't resist. The Conductor questioning him would be like a particularly humiliating truth serum. Luthor and the Conductor would kill him if his cover was blown. Or they would use him for their purposes. Maybe sell him off to somewhere.

Luthor's eyes shone in annoyance: "I have already tested its loyalty and it has passed. Otherwise, I wouldn't use it for my project. Are you doubting my intelligence?"

Nightwing felt relieved. Thank Luthor's arrogance. The genius hated being questioned which worked in Nightwing's favor now.

"Not at all, Mr. Luthor", the Conductor was quick to placate Luthor.

Luthor stayed stone-faced. He didn't seem impressed by the Conductor.

"You have an interesting effect on its conditioning", Luthor said, "It seemed frightened."

"Animal instinct. Like a coyote that chews off its own leg", the Conductor said.

He spoke as if he was an expert on everything Talon. It made Nightwing seethe. The Conductor may control Talons, but he didn't understand them. Not like Jason did.

Jason would have already killed the Conductor if he had been here. Nightwing disliked Jason killing but maybe in this instance, he wouldn't mind. Having the Conductor dead would be a service to all Talons.

Nightwing's chest hurt. He missed his little brother. Sometimes, he missed the old times in their shared flats before they had become a part of this world of heroes and villains. Just quietly existing under the radar without anyone of importance knowing nor caring about them.

Nightwing forced himself to focus on the scene again, diverting his thoughts away from Jason. The Conductor kept talking about Talons and their traits boasting how much valuable expertise he had in the field. Luthor seemed just as annoyed as Nightwing which was a little comfort.

Nightwing kept his face carefully blank, not letting his annoyance and discomfort show. His cover was still intact. They still believed that his thoughts consisted of vapid obedience and animal instinct. That he was not a threat. The idea was depressing but it was the only thing keeping Nightwing alive on this mission. The only thing that allowed him to go where obvious threats like Deathstroke couldn't.

Being smart on this mission meant presenting himself as empty as possible.

They passed cornfield after cornfield. Nightwing had to keep himself from staring. He had never seen the countryside like this.

Nightwing wondered if Superman lived close here somewhere. Maybe he flew over the cornfields sometimes, the cape flattering behind him as he searched for people to rescue. The pinnacle of a hero.

The thought would have been comforting, if Nightwing hadn't been playing the villain at the moment. He didn't want to face Superman when Wonder Woman had already destroyed him. Nightwing suspected though that Luthor carried Kryptonite everywhere he went.

The car reached a metal gate with private security. They were let through once the guards recognized Luthor. They drove over a bumpy road that was flanked by more corn fields. Nightwing suspected that it was a disguise. He was proven correct when he recognized a giant facility with ring after ring of security. No sign of disrepair here.

All the guards let them through at the sight of Luthor.

The driver stopped in front of a metal door and opened the door for Luthor. Nightwing was the last to exit. Luthor reached the door, the security guards not saying anything as Luthor opened the door with his retina scan.

Nightwing and the Conductor followed Luthor through sterile hallways which were patrolled by more guards. Nightwing noted the blue guns on their hips. He couldn't draw any attention to himself.

"What is the purpose of this facility?", the Conductor asked.

"See for yourself", Luthor opened another door, this time through a normal handle.

They stepped into a wide room. Nightwing forced his face to stay blank when he saw a row of gurneys. Talons were strapped to them their bodies limp. Tubes were connected to their wrists as black blood was pulled out of their bodies.

It ended up in a machine that stood behind each Talon. Black blood was led back in after it had gone through the machine.

Nightwing approached a gurney, looking down at the Talon on it. His eyes were glassy and Nightwing assumed that he had to be dosed with something. An IV-bag hung on a rack next to him. Nightwing felt the need to severe the line but instead he stayed emotionless.

Luthor and the Conductor stepped next to Nightwing. Luthor was watching Nightwing closely, looking for any reaction.

Nightwing straightened himself, folding his hands behind his back. He wondered if this was a trap. Maybe Luthor knew that Nightwing was a mole and was about to use him for this depraved plan. But why had Luthor not ordered the Conductor to control Nightwing the moment Nightwing had sat down in the car?

No. Luthor didn't know. Nightwing's cover was still safe.

"I assume the Talons you demanded from me without compensation were diverted for this purpose", the Conductor sounded bitter.

Nightwing tried to count the Talons. There were dozens here. Enough for a small army. The Conductor must have lost millions by having Luthor take them.

Nightwing suppressed a scoff. Poor little Conductor losing profit by not being able to sell all his human trafficking victims.

"I don't understand why you demanded the most capable ones?", the Conductor said.

"I want only the finest product for my harvest", Luthor said.

This was what this was? Harvesting? Nightwing felt sick suddenly.

"Harvest?", the Conductor asked.

"I am harvesting them for their Electrum. We found a way to filter it out of their blood. My scientists have found out that Electrum has multiversal energies. We could not yet ascertain in which universe the Court originally found the Electrum."

"It's from another universe?", the Conductor frowned in confusion.

"Like I already stated", Luthor seemed annoyed at the Conductor's obvious question, "It explains why the Court was the only one to use it until now."

"Isn't it killing them if you take all their blood?", the Conductor said, "Seems counterproductive to use the capable ones for that."

Luthor grinned smugly: "Talons are more valuable than we could have thought. They synthesize new Electrum every time they lose blood."

"Synthesize?", the Conductor asked.

Luthor's eye twisted in annoyance: "They make new blood after we harvest it, containing more Electrum. Talons are Electrum-producers. It explains their infinite healing ability."

The Conductor grinned at Nightwing: "Look at you being all priceless."

"We are looking into what Electrum can do. It may be promising in the medicinal field – maybe even in energy production. We are still in early stages of research though", Luthor said, "It will take probably a decade until we have discovered all its uses but Lexcorp will be at the forefront of Electrum-harvesting and manufacturing."

Nightwing's thoughts were racing, and he had to keep a tight grip on himself to not seem too conscious. The implications of what Luthor had revealed were massive.

Talons were already being dealt with on the black market. Already valuable as mindless weapons to do the bidding of criminals. Their value would skyrocket if it came out that they could produce such a rare metal – a multiversal metal that might be able to solve so many of the world's problems.

Nightwing knew how opportunistic these government people were. He knew how Waller had treated her squad. He knew that the government had allowed him as the League's pet if he stayed in line and was useful.

It would only get worse if Lexcorp made public what Electrum could do and that Talons were its only source. Nightwing could already see it. The government working with Luthor. Them deciding that Talons were to be used as Electrum-sources. Harvested. It would be easy. No one would protest at monsters being treated like resources.

Nightwing imagined the government entering Barbara Gordon's Talon-center. Destroying the little sanctuary Nightwing had fought so hard for. Taking the Talons away to- to places like these. It would be hell. A nightmare that Nightwing couldn't escape from.

A nightmare that made Nightwing want to curl up in a corner and wallow in anxiety. He just wanted all of this to be over. He didn't want to deal with this. He just wanted to exist as a human being.

He wanted to go home and have a quiet day in at the Manor with Bruce, Jason and Alfred. He wanted to call Wally and have the first proper date with him in ages. He wanted to go on adventures with his team.

Was this too much to ask for? It shouldn't be.

Instead, he was stuck in this hellish place and forced to keep a blank face as if Luthor and the fucking Conductor weren't talking about taking all of Nightwing's dignity away. It made him angry. It made him want to just lose it on these people and kill them like he was trained to do.

Still, Nightwing kept himself together. He had to listen to this conversation. Gather all the intel he could. Regroup with Slade and even Bruce to discuss how to proceed.

"Focus", an internal voice that sounded suspiciously like Bruce said.

"It is the reason why I asked you to appear here today", Luthor said, "I want the Talon-trade to cease. All the Talons that you capture are to be diverted directly to me. Selling them is letting valuable resources go to waste."

The Conductor's face darkened: "No way, Luthor. I was generous before by allowing you to have a fraction of my products without compensation. A favor that was based on respect for you as a business partner, but this will eliminate my business. I do not need the Light's backing to catch myself a Talon. I could order your pet to walk out with me right now."

Nightwing knew the Conductor could, but Luthor would never let him. The Conductor was foolish by opposing Luthor so openly on his own turf.

I expected you to say that", Luthor said, "So, I offer you a million for each Talon from now on."

"This is a fraction of what I get for them on the free market."

A million was a fraction?

Nightwing forced his hands to stay open. To not have his claws pierce his palms and receive the relief Nightwing craved. The urge to kill the Conductor rising in him again. This monster was getting rich on the backs of the suffering of hundreds of Talons.

Luthor smiled, the expression dripping dishonesty: "One million per product and I am offering you something far more valuable as an addition. A seat at the table."

"At which table?"

It was official. The Conductor's stupidity was infuriating. Why did the guy with the ability to control Nightwing's every move have to be such an idiot? And why did said ability include the side effect of making Nightwing want to be at the Conductor's feet? To admire this idiot as if he was the pinnacle of humanity himself?

So insulting. Nightwing didn't have much pride after years of being treated like dirt, but he had more pride than that.

Luthor's eyebrow twitched in barely restrained annoyance: "The Light."

The Conductor's mouth dropped open in surprise: "You want to make me a member of the Light?"

"Your particular skillset is incredibly valuable in this new world order, and you have proven to provide unique insights", Luthor sounded as if he was being held at gunpoint, "I will campaign for you to join the Light at our next summit. It will be quite eventful."

The Conductor grinned. He raised his chin looking as if he owned the place: "This will be the beginning of a beautiful partnership."

"Certainly", Luthor said, "In turn, I will need your skillset to keep my resources. There have been a few… unruly incidents that I would prefer not to repeat."

"Sure", the Conductor was quick to agree.

"Go along", Luthor shushed the Conductor away as if he was a toddler, "My head scientists will give you a special tour."

The Conductor seemed giddy as a man in a lab coat led him away. Nightwing relaxed as the Conductor went out of sight.

Luthor turned to Nightwing, muttering under his breath: "I can't believe that the Talon has more brain capacity than this fool."

Luthor indicated Nightwing to follow: "I'll show you your task."

They went into another room, this one seemed to have even bigger doors. Nightwing suspected that they were secure against any metahuman attack. Superstrength and energy beams stood no chance.

"Project Titan", Luthor said, "Or as I like to call it, the Army of the Future."

Nightwing stepped into a corridor of pots. Each of them held a different person. They were kept behind energy fields with restraints holding their limbs and inhibitor collars around their necks.

Nightwing noted that they seemed to be of different species. A girl with orange skin glared at him. Her glare was unnerving. Nightwing suspected that this girl was not easily fought. Then there was a boy with green skin – even younger than Nightwing was. A half-robot. And…

Nightwing stopped in front of the case that held another girl. Tall and muscular with black hair. She looked human but Nightwing knew better. There was a strength in her body that spoke of an Amazon's powers and skills. Donna Troy.

Her head was slumped forward as she hung in her restraints. Her lips were chapped making Nightwing wonder when she had last drunk something. Her hair covered her face in greasy strands.

Nightwing frowned when he saw a bandage at her side. Now that he looked closely, the other captives also sported wounds.

Finally, Nightwing had found Donna Troy. And she looked like she wasn't doing too well.

Donna couldn't tell time anymore. She had tried another attempt at escaping.

She had punched one of the scientists in the face as he had led her to her daily bathroom break. Another had lunged at her but Donna had kicked his arm hard enough to break it even with her wrists cuffed behind her back and the collar around her neck.

It had been the third scientist who had gotten her. He had stabbed a scalpel into Donna's side, making her drop to the floor. Then, they had sedated her, and she had woken up in the pot again feeling drained of all energy.

She felt lethargic and hopeless. Diana wasn't coming for her. Diana wouldn't find her. And the captives wouldn't break out on their own. Maybe if they were able to communicate and actually come up with a plan. But they couldn't. They were under constant supervision and the Tamaranean didn't even speak their language.

Donna had tried. She had addressed the Tamaranean in all the languages she knew. None of them successful.

Donna had seen her fight. How ferocious she was when the scientists led her away. She still held her head high and glared at them even after possibly months in this hell. She had caused more broken bones than the rest of them combined, spitting and cursing at the scientists.

There was something regal about her even in this demeaning position. Something beautiful. Donna couldn't help but admire her resolve. Donna herself couldn't muster it anymore.

Today, something changed. Luthor himself came to visit. Donna had gauged that this was Luthor's project, but she hadn't seen him. She knew Luthor from UN gatherings. He had been there as a mediator. Always circling influential people and getting them to do his bidding.

He looked just as smug in this illegal lab as he looked at those gatherings.

"Long time no see, Ms. Troy", Luthor said, smirking at her.

Donna mustered up enough energy to glare at this elitist bastard.

"It's a pity that you and Themyscira were so adamantly against my last proposal", Luthor said, "If we had better relations, we maybe could have talked about your little discovery in Qurac instead of resorting to this."

Donna couldn't let this stand. She raised her head, with her last bit of energy:
"Themyscira doesn't negotiate with human traffickers."

She noted the presence of the Talon behind Luthor. He seemed young - around Donna's age. At least, he looked like he was Donna's age. He could be far older than he looked. His face was blank as his arms were folded behind his back.

Donna scoffed. Of course, Luthor was using a Talon to do his dirty work.

"The Amazons", Luthor muttered, "So proud yet so archaic."

"The idea of owning a human being is archaic", Donna's voice was cranky after so much time without water, but she wouldn't stand by quietly – Diana wouldn't either, "You shouldn't throw stones in your archaic glass house, Luthor."

"It depends on what you define as a human being", Luthor said, "You are as insolent and naïve as I remember you, Ms. Troy. Don't worry. This insolence will be gone at the end of this project."

Donna froze. What was this supposed to mean?

"I acquired technology what will make you just as obedient as this one is", Luthor put a hand on the Talon's shoulder.

The Talon stayed still.

Panic rose in Donna's chest. She'd rather die than become Luthor's puppet.

Luthor turned away from Donna and towards the Talon.

"These specimen are of supreme importance to the Light", Luthor told him, "They are to be kept secure at all times."

"Yes, Grandmaster", Talon's voice was quiet, nothing but emotionless obedience.

Luthor nodded in the direction of the banged-up scientists.

"The captives have proven to be uncooperative, so it is your task to ensure their continued survival while keeping them under control. Feed them, provide them with fluids, allow them to fulfill any other needs they have while keeping them contained. Mr. Hagen – the lead-scientist – is your handler in this facility."

"Yes, Grandmaster."

"Start by changing that one's bandage", Luthor pointed at Donna.

He turned to his scientists, displeasure in his voice: "What happened?"

"She attacked us when we allowed her daily bathroom visit", Hagen – the lead-scientist -said, "We had to stab her with a scalpel to take her down and sedate her. Those creatures are a nightmare. We're scientists, not babysitters."

"Make sure they stay controlled. I need them and their fighting capabilities intact. Use the Talon."

"Yes, Mr. Luthor", Hagen said.

"Good", Luthor went towards the exit, "You are all fired if you disappoint me."

From the fear in the scientist's eyes, Donna assumed that being fired meant more than losing your job here. Luthor couldn't have anyone talking about his top-secret projects.

Hagen pushed a first aid kit into the Talon's hands: "Change that one's bandage. You know how to do that, right?"

"Yes, handler."

"Good", Hagen turned back to his work, "Just do your job, stay out of the way and don't annoy me."

"Yes, handler."

Donna felt queasy at the exchange. She knew that Talons were conditioned but she had never seen the effects first-hand. Donna had only seen the Talons in those cages, doped up and unable to escape. She hadn't seen them actually be used as servants. It was a heartbreaking sight now that Donna had experienced first-hand that Talons had emotions and were capable of building emotional bonds.

Donna had certainly built a bond with the Talon from the cargo hold in a short time. She wondered where she was.

Luthor's Talon approached her pod with the first aid kit. He pushed a button to deactivate the energy field. Donna considered struggling but she knew it had no use. She needed to save her strength.

The Talon reached for Donna's side. He could easily access her wound because of the medical garb Donna was wearing.

He pulled off his gloves and put them into his suit. The Talon revealed sickly pale hands with black veins – but no claws. Donna frowned. How strange. She had never seen a Talon without claws. Had this one never gotten them? Or had he lost them?

The Talon took off the dirty plaster on Donna's side. One of the scientists had sewed the scalpel wound shut. Shoddily.

He took a pair of medicinal scissors out of the kit and cut the sloppy thread. Donna prepared herself for pain, but the Talon was surprisingly gentle in pulling out the old thread. It still hurt but far less than Donna had expected. She suppressed a groan.

The Talon disinfected Donna's wound and started to sew it shut. Donna clenched her teeth together. She wouldn't give her captors the satisfaction of showing pain. Talon finished sewing and covered the wound with a new plaster.

He didn't linger longer than he needed to, turning the electric field back on again. Donna frowned, looking at the Talon as he methodically put the supplies back into the bag. He hadn't shown Donna any indication of emotion, but he hadn't been cruel either. Just efficient.

Donna wondered if they could get Talon to help them. He wasn't here of his own volition. Just because he wasn't in a pot didn't mean that he wasn't a prisoner, too. Maybe Donna could build a connection with him. It was their best chance of getting out of here – maybe their last chance before Luthor would steal their minds.

Talon vanished in the back to store the medical kit. The scientists didn't pay any attention to him. Donna frowned when he returned with a water bottle and a straw. He deactivated the electrical field again and held the straw up to Donna's lips. When was the last time she had drank? Donna didn't know.

She had to hold herself back though. She needed to talk to Talon, get a feel for what she had to work with.

"Thanks", Donna said.

Talon didn't react.

"I'm Donna", she said, "Do you have a name? Or is it just Talon?"

Donna felt slightly stupid when Talon didn't dignify her questions with a response. Instead, he just made a motion with the bottle, indicating her to drink.

Donna wasn't ready to give up though: "I think Luthor is wrong by the way. You have a mind. I'm pretty sure that you understand everything around you."

Talon – Donna's friend – had been incredibly perceptive. She couldn't be the only one. Donna refused to believe that.

This Talon's face stayed blank. He raised the bottle again.

"Have drink", Talon said.

Donna sighed and took a sip from the straw and then another. And another. She couldn't stop herself once she had started.

Talon didn't stop her. Donna was slightly embarrassed when she noticed that she had drunk the whole bottle. She wouldn't regret it though when there was finally moisture again on her chapped lips. The scientists had been too afraid to regularly feed them and provide them with water. Any deactivating of the electrical field was a risk to them.

Talon didn't comment. He turned the electric field back on.

"Say if need water", Talon's voice was quiet, "Grandmaster order not let die."

Talon left to get another bottle. Donna had to swallow her disappointment. This Talon wasn't anything until now. Just relentlessly efficient without a crack showing that Donna could connect to.

Talon gave water to the others as he had to Donna. Garfield was too dehydrated to complain eagerly soaking in a whole bottle. Talon went to get another.

Victor was less enthusiastic. He reluctantly allowed Talon to put the straw in his mouth, muttering: "Just another humiliation in the endless string of humiliations that is Victor Stone's life."

Donna felt a pang in her chest. Victor had it the roughest out of all of them. Half his body had been taken from him, spread out over several carts in front of the pod. No wonder he was so resigned. Victor had been like this for months.

The Tamaranean was the last one. She glared at Talon as he held the straw to her lips. But she took a sip. And another. And another. After taking the final sip, she spit into Talon's face, cursing at him.

Donna didn't understand a word but curses were universal.

Talon's face stayed blank. He took off his goggles and wiped them on his uniform. Donna got a good look at his unnatural golden eyes. She could see that there were specks of blue in there. A reminder that Talon had been human once.

Talon put the googles back on and collected the bottles to bring them back. Donna thought of the blue in his eyes. Not everything was lost. She would continue to appeal to this Talon until cracks formed in his blank façade. Donna refused to believe that there was nothing there.

Talon returned after disposing off the bottles. He stood at the side of their pods, hands folded behind his back.

After what must be hours, Luthor collected the Talon: "I'll tell Deathstroke to bring you to the address every day. One of the interns will collect you and bring you to this facility. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Grandmaster."

"No word to Deathstroke about this facility."

"Yes, Grandmaster."

The Talon followed Luthor out of the lab. No cracks at all in his obedient demeanor. Donna tried to swallow down the despair that rose in her. This Talon was their last hope of getting out.

Donna had to hope. Amazons didn't give up.

AN: Hold on Donna, my girl!

Nightwing keeps getting put under stress by this undercover mission. Poor guy keeps having to endure. This newest revelation really shocked him. :(

I feel like Slade barely shoulders any of the risks of this mission while Nightwing gets everything thrown at him. Doesn't keep Slade from acting like a drama queen though. I love though that Nightwing is snipes back at him now. Throwing Slade's midlife crisis in his face. Some of Nightwing's canon sassiness is coming through. The Court couldn't condition it out of him. :D