In about three years Starfire would have friends and they would describe her as caring, sensitive, and compassionate. It's amazing what you can be when you're out of danger and surrounded by people who care about you, who you can become. In three years time these things would be true. Starfire would become caring; she'd find her emotional nature lent itself to empathy. Now, though, was not the time for such things. Eventually she would soften in a world where she was loved, but for now, traveling through the stars, her primary instinct was not kindness, but retribution. Starfire was angry, enraged really, and locked in a cell on her way to god knows what sort of torment, she was letting that anger simmer. Fester into a rage, waiting for the opportunity to vent it.

Tamaran was a beautiful place with a beautiful people. It was a hard place where combat was not only encouraged, but a part of everyday life. Tamaraneans had a set of abilities that were, in effect, manifestations of their emotions. Confidence in one's own success imbued muscles with the strength to achieve that success. Without it the body was weak and frail. Joy led to literal flight; in sadness they were grounded. They could even fire projectiles of pure energy given the proper emotional que. It was an open place, but a hard place, a place that, as princess, she had come to know and love. She'd taken everyone and everything at face value, been more than adequate in her training, and yet even a battle-hardened young Starfire was too soft for this world.

You need to understand that Starfire was not alone in her openness; everyone on Tamaran took people at face value. You were assessed on your skill in battle and your boldness in discussion, not on nuance. Not on deceit. But Starfire had a sister, Blackfire, who was also more than adequate. Beyond that, she was cutthroat, cunning, and power hungry. Entirely uninterested in sharing power or even having that option available. They'd grown up together, played and trained together, and though Starfire had had great affection for her sister, Blackfire had not felt the same. It wasn't hatred, exactly, just a sociopathic disregard for her sibling's wellbeing. That entire time, while Starfire laughed and worked hard, Blackfire had been scheming ways to get the throne all to herself. Which meant getting rid of her sister in a permanent a manner as was politically possible. Politics were not thick on Tamaran; outright murdering your sibling was frowned upon, even for royalty.

All she knew was that one night not too long after she'd turned 19 (Earth years), Starfire had been pulled from her bed. She'd given the guards a good fight, assuming they were rebelling or something along those lines, and still she was eventually subdued. It was only then that her sister Blackfire had informed her that, as part of a peace deal with the neighboring and aggressive Gordanians, she was being exiled and sold into slavery. Starfire, unaware that they needed a peace deal with the Gordanians, had protested. Nothing had made a difference, nothing she did mattered. And so, hands bound and head hung in shame for crimes she hadn't committed, Starfire was brought aboard the Gordanian ship.

That had been two days ago. Two days of simmering rage. Starfire was ready to burst. She was not going to a slave camp to die. She was not going to be brushed aside like this. Going back to Tamaran would be suicide, but surely there was another place for her in this universe. In the vast expanse of space. Somewhere she could be useful if not happy. Her body was robust, it would survive the vacuum of space, allowing her to travel a decent distance, if only she could get free… The Gordanians paid her no mind, locked up like she was, assumed she wasn't a threat. She watched them outside her cell, peering through the glass with eyes so livid they could've melted the pieces on their game board. They were lethargic and overconfident and, eventually, they were going to have to feed her.

"Oh good, some grub at last," the one with his back towards her exclaimed as a third entered through a sliding door. "Any news from the bridge? How much longer until we land?"

"Don't get your hopes up," chided the newcomer. "This is for the prisoner."

"I hate Tamaraneans," sighed the one who had been the original speaker's opponent in whatever game they were playing. "They stink and they're ugly. We should just kill her and be done."

"They make good workers. Besides, this one was a princess. Must be demoralizing for them, having royalty sold into slavery."

"Not to mention part of a peace deal; we're in a nonaggression pact with the Tamaraneans now. You should get used to them."

"Just because we're not at war doesn't mean I have to like them. Make no mistake, this peace deal is just a front. This one will die in the labor camp or something and just like that we'll be back at each other's throats. You know how they are, always itching for a fight."

"Yes, well," the newcomer with the food came closer, fiddling with some keys. Starfire tensed, exhaling slowly in preparation. "Until then you at least need to play nice with this one."

He opened the cell door. Starfire let out a bloodcurdling scream, stood, and pulled her arms upward with all her might. Her hands were encased in metal; she would be unable to shoot starbolts, but her superhuman strength was quite functional. The tether holding her chained hands to the deck whined and snapped and, using her bound hands as a single unit, she slammed the heavy restraints into the Gordanian's head. This in turn sent him into the bulkhead and there was a dull thud. Before he'd even slid to the ground Starfire was out of her cell and on top of the other two. She smashed her forehead into the one who "hated Tamaraneans"'s fish-like face with a savage cry, then kicked the other in the chest. He'd been going for a weapon, a silly little ray gun that she could've crushed in the palm of her hand had it been exposed. As it happened she couldn't get her hands free. Swinging her restrained hands around, she hit both Gordanians as they tried to recover somewhere in their heads and took off down the corridor.

All she needed was an air lock, some way of the ship, but the Gordanians had wisely kept their shuttle bay away from their brig in case of such an incident. Alarms began to blare as blue lights spun in the ceiling and Starfire cursed herself for not being more thorough. She should've just killed them, yet to date Starfire hadn't killed anyone. It seemed wrong, taking a life, a sentiment her sister clearly didn't share. Finding this was not the time for philosophical discourse, Starfire chose to make her own exit. Summoning power into her eyes, she picked a wall and melted through it. She would've preferred to attribute her success to skill, but in truth it was pure luck that she was as close to the outer hull as she was. They'd underestimated her, taken her on a ship where the brig was close to the exterior.

A rush of air pulled past her as the deck decompressed, emergency bulkheads crashed into place to save the crew, and Starfire took flight into the light of a yellow star. She had no need for air or insulation, her body was resilient, and while the Gordanians struggled to find out exactly what had happened she moved like a specter through space and disabled their cannons. If she'd been able to distinguish their sensors she'd have hit those too, so they'd be flying blind, but alas, they were not so obvious. Her fortune was so great it had to have been fate: just on the other side of the Gordanian ship there was a little blue planet with patches of green. Not only had she escaped into a solar system, she'd done so next to a planet with water and vegetation. A planet capable of supporting life. Without additional question she flew towards it, punching through the atmosphere in a ball of fire.

Starfire had no destination in mind, no idea where she was headed, just away from the Grodanians. She would free her hands and then take on the entire ship if she had to. That was the plan. But rather like there being a planet for her to flee to to begin with, fate had other ideas. In New Jersey there's a little town called Blüdhaven and in that little town a little hero had just struck out on his own. He was 18 (just younger than Starfire), highly trained, and legally an adult. The second in a line of masked vigilantes, he was still using the name Robin and this was the odd night he was not in downtown Blüdhaven keeping crime at bay. No, on this particular night Robin had tracked a smuggling operation up into New York and determined they were on their way towards the Canadian border. He'd been stalking them for hours but, when he looked into the sky and saw a burning ball of something come hurdling down into the trees, he thought maybe something more important had come up. The thugs didn't care; they weren't interested in meteorology or forest fires. He'd probably need to do some work to find them again; however, if there was one thing he'd learned under Batman it was that one must respond to emergent circumstances. Robin moved carefully through the woods, swinging between the trees like a silent wraith. As he got closer to the fire he heard shouting.

"Glempork!"

The voice was high and feminine, but the words were unrecognizable. As Robin approached he beheld at once the most beautiful thing and the strangest thing he'd ever seen. A woman wearing what appeared to be metal bands was thrashing, slamming what appeared to be restraints into the thick trunks around her, splintering them with every blow. Her hair was a vibrant auburn almost like fire and her skin was orange like a sunset. Her eyes were glowing neon green and it was apparent that she was both in distress and highly dangerous.

"Clorbag varblurnelk!"

"Excuse me," tried Robin, touching down and approaching with his hands outstretched. He'd sampled every language known to man under Batman and this was not one of them; Robin had the distinct impression that he was, in fact, meeting his first alien. "Can I help you?"

Starfire gave Robin a wild, but appraising, look. From what she could see he was frail and would be easily defeated. She did not know if all the members of this planet's dominant species were so strangely dressed and, at the moment, she didn't care. Looking at his hands, then his eyes, she let out a snarl.

"Gnorark varnak?"

"Listen," he said in a low, soothing voice. "I can't understand you. But I can get those restraints off. We can find a way to communicate. You need to stop destroying everything, humans do enough of that ourselves."

He took a step towards her and she stiffened, watching him very closely. She turned her head to listen, picking up on the gentle notes in his voice. This creature would be easily subdued. Her eyes flicked to his hands, where he was miming removing the metal that encased her hands, then up to his face in understanding. It was a nice face, what she could see of it anyway, with a strong jaw and a narrow nose. His hair was styled out of his face and he wore a black mask that made him look very mysterious indeed. Starfire felt a flick of attraction and decided to trust him. Once freed she could easily dispatch him if need be. She offered her hands and he took them, pulling out something long and sharp to pry off the control panel. Again she watched him, his dexterous fingers playing with the wiring of a device about which he had no prior knowledge. Smart. She liked that. It would be a real shame to harm this one. As soon as her hands were free she grabbed the back of his neck and pressed their lips together. Almost as quickly as she learned the language she knew that this act had some significance in this culture; Robin stiffened against her and squirmed. She held him in place until the transfer of knowledge was complete, then released him.

"Why," she demanded in grammatically correct English that was idiomatically lacking. "Why do you help me? Do you not know I could destroy you?"

"If you were going to do that," Robin said smoothly, recovering as if the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen hadn't just kissed him. "You'd have done it already. You're running away from something, that much is obvious. Thought I'd show a little kindness is all."

"Kindness," Starfire repeated, frowning. "What is this 'kindness?' Speak plainly."

"It's being nice to someone because you can. Do they not have kindness where you're from?"

"No. The closest word is "Rutha." Weak."

"I can put these back on if you'd prefer," Robin said with raised eyebrows, holding out her restraints.

"You can most certainly try."

"Or," he pressed, tossing the restraints out of reach. "You could help me put out this fire. Then I can take you back to Blüdhaven, teach you how to take care of yourself. Maybe, when you're ready, you'll tell me what you're running away from."

Starfire blinked at him, bemused. On her planet they would've already been engaged in combat, she would've been assumed to be a criminal and sent back to the Grodanians no questions asked. There was no kindness on her world, no room for people who couldn't take care of themselves. Yet they were not on her world, not on Tamaran. And she was sure that she could take care of this person at the first sign of treachery. In the meantime, as much as she didn't like relying on anyone, it made sense to have someone show her around. She passed as this human physically, assuming this was a good representative, but only just. She could not afford to give herself away. And, for the first time, she noticed the trees around her burning. Not badly, the wood was wet and alive, but the fire would spread if they didn't catch it now. She would be responsible for needless destruction. She didn't like that.

"I will assist with the fire."

"Much appreciated," Robin smiled at her and extended a hand. "You can call me Dick, by the way."

"Just Dick? Nothing more?"

"I'll tell you more when we know each other better. And you're supposed to shake the hand."

She took her hand in both of hers, squeezing it tightly as an intimidation tactic, and gave it a firm shake.

"Princess Koriand'r of Tamaran. In your language you may call me Starfire."

"Subject is at your nine o'clock, do you see her?"

"Yes Dick," Sttarfire muttered into the microphone on her bracelet, pretending to take a sip of her drink. "I see her. She has returned as is her habit. Indeed, even her usual seat is open. I suspect she will come sit by me imminently."

"Just keep a close eye on her Star. I want to confirm this is Dr. Rachel Roth by the end of the day."

Starfire sighed, sipping her laté. They'd been surveilling the suspect for two weeks now and her pattern hadn't deviated once. "Suspect" was a hard word, it wasn't that they "suspected" her of wrongdoings. Rather, Dick thought she was like them, someone with the ability and the will to do good. He'd been tracking her for months, this witch who banished demons, and finally got some recent reports in Jump City. Not much, a tip from a source and a blurry picture on a subway car. Originally Dr. Roth had been fairly easy to follow because her clients all reported that she had purple hair and grey skin. Not as unsettling as the demons she fought, but strange enough to be memorable. Then something had changed, she'd learned, and she'd slipped away again. Best case scenario she would simply continue doing good, but Dick didn't believe in best case scenario. More than that, he wanted to put together a team, people who could help on a bigger scale. Supervillains were popular in Gotham and Metropolis, and the idea was starting to catch. Starfire supported Dick in this endeavor, and so she'd left Blüdhaven for Jump. Dick would follow when the loose ends were tied up.

"Herbal tea," the woman, Dr. Roth, ordered in a soft monotone. Same as always. "Midnight blend."

"We'll bring it out when it's ready," replied the cashier, a little standoffish.

He worked at the same time both Starfire and Dr. Roth liked to come in, early, 7:00 am, and last week he'd asked her name. She'd declined tersely and he'd gotten the hint. Now the wait, twelve minutes for the Midnight blend to brew. In the meantime, Dr. Roth crossed the coffee shop to a booth in the corner and sat down. Pressed her back into the wood, exhaled, and pulled a small book from her bag. She wore black, flat shoes, black jeans, and a long-sleeved navy shirt. Around her neck was a sodalite pendant with a sharp symbol engraved on its face on a string of obsidian beads. Her hair was an unremarkable black or dark brown, Starfire hadn't made up her mind which, cut to chin length, and her eyes were an unremarkable grey-blue. She had a sharp widow's peak, an unsmiling mouth, and Starfire felt unnerved around her. Tamaraneans were an emotional people, to meet someone who kept their feelings so closely guarded was difficult. It must've been that; what other reason was there for the tension in her stomach around this person? Dick said she helped people and Starfire wondered how.

Needing a reason to stay, Starfire got to her feet and approached the cashier with her dirty mug. Unlike Dr. Roth, she stood out. Her orange skin could pass for sun-kissed and her fiery hair looked red to people who didn't know better. Dick had given her contacts to cover up her green eyes and she'd learned a lot about Earth customs in the year-and-a-half since Dick had taken her in, but still, she was tall and strong. And unable to wear anything boring. Today it was a purple miniskirt and top that looked very nice with her skin. She didn't notice Dr. Roth noticing her as she put her dish in the dirty bin and turned, smiling brightly, to the cashier.

"Greetings Jason," she said with a nod.

"Hello again Kori," he smiled back, much warmer with his other regular. "Another one?"

"Indeed! A large, double shot, kiwi laté, if you would be so kind."

"Coming right up! You know you're the only one who uses the kiwi syrup. I don't think we keep it around for anyone else. One of these days you'll have to tell me what possessed you to try it."

"Possessed me… I see, you are insinuating that someone would need to be not in their right mind to try such a thing. It was the picture, in fact. It reminds me of something from home."

"Lot of kiwi's where you grew up?"

Normally, with Dick, Kori would explain that the fruit was similar in appearance to an egg sac left by the horthgar. A real treat on a hot day. But this was not Dick and, for now, Starfire had to pretend.

"A childhood favorite," she lied with a smile, handing Jason a piece of plastic that, through some properties of magnetism, translated into currency. Dick had explained it once but Starfire, frankly, hadn't cared. She just liked speaking to Dick.

"Um… hmm…" Jason ran the card, then again, slower, frowning.

"Please, is something wrong?"

"It's declining," Jason said with a little head shake, shrugging his shoulders and handing her back her card. "Do you have another?"

"I do not understand "declining." Does it refuse to work?"

"It means you have no money."

"Shit," Dick swore in her ear as he realized his oversight. "Stall him Star. I'll fix this."

"Is there anyway I can pay you later?"

"No, payment is due at the time of service. I'm sorry Kori."

"Perhaps you can try it again?"

"I'll cover it," said a new voice, low and gravely.

They both looked over with no small amount of surprise to see Dr. Roth. She'd emerged from her corner and come to bail Starfire out. Her features were passively disinterested, but her words were sincere. She looked at Starfire critically, then let her eyes fall to her bag. Pale, slender hands fished out a credit card and she handed it to Jason, who accepted, taking extra care not to touch her skin. They conducted the transaction in silence and he handed the card back to Dr. Roth, who accepted it without comment. Starfire was baffled. All this time, it seemed she wasn't the only one watching.

"My deepest gratitude," Starfire said, giving Jason a nod and then following Dr. Roth back to her corner booth. Without asking for permission, mostly because she didn't really know she needed it, Starfire slid into the seat across from her. "And my sincerest apologies for the inconvenience. I will pay you back tomorrow."

"Don't worry about it," Dr. Roth answered with a hand wave.

"Oh but I must worry. This is so embarrassing. And I fear it is only the first of many such instances until Dick gets here."

"I'm sure you'll survive."

"Survival is certain. I have survived harsher conditions than this. Humiliation, however, is not only equally as certain but less desirable. I do not yet have employment, you see."

"If you're unemployed, where are you getting the funds to buy coffee?"

"This is good," Dick said in her ear, eager. "Keep her talking. See if you can get a name."

"It is not so desperate; my friend who is a boy- my boyfriend, Dick, he is coming soon. He sent me ahead and gave me money. Perhaps, though, I have been too generous in my spending. I got very lost, you see, as there was some debate over where I was meant to go. I have spent much of my funds traveling."

"Not to be rude, but why are you telling me this?"

"I must apologize again. I am imposing."

"No, it's fine," Dr. Roth all but whispered, her eyes flicking to Jason as he brought out her tea and set the steaming beverage before her. "Just unusual. I've been coming here for months and you're the first person to talk to me."

"I hoped that we may be friends," Starfire blurted with a bright grin. "You sit alone here every day. I have been curious about you."

"And you… what brings someone so flamboyant to such an ordinary shop."

She fingered her pendant and gave Starfire an appraising look. It was perplexing to Starfire to be evaluated in such a way. Later, Rachel would confess that she had been contemplating the possibility that Starfire was a demon. But for now, the two just stared at each other. In that moment they both knew the other was hiding something, sensed the strangeness in the air. The alien and the demon, together having coffee. Or, in Dr. Roth's case, tea. Finally, Starfire extended a hand across the table.

"Kori Anders," she gave the cover name Dick had invented for her.

"Rachel Roth," Rachel answered after a moment of contemplation, accepting her hand and giving it a little shake.

Her grip was firm, but not hard, and Starfire had to contain her excitement. This was her, it was really her, the demon hunter they'd been looking for. She could picture Dick on the other end of the comms, moving to his cork board and wrapping red string around this and that pin. Dr. Roth had been on the board for a while and now, at long last, they'd found her. Starfire wanted to confess everything right then and there in the coffee shop. Yet she knew better. Eighteen months of living with humans had taught her patience; they didn't respond to sudden change. For now, she had to be content with a name.

"It is a great pleasure to meet you, Rachel Roth. I am pleased I had insufficient funds for my beverage!"

"Uh huh. So tell me, Kori Anders, now that you have insufficient funds, where will you be staying?"

"Oh…" Starfire deflated. Dick would add money to her account, but Rachel didn't know that was a possibility. She had to maintain the illusion that she had no money. The problem was… she had no idea what a human would do in this situation. "Well… there is a nice park… I suppose I could use one of the benches in the short term."

"That's illegal."

"A tree then?"

"You're going to sleep in a tree," Rachel repeated, incredulous.

Starfire, knowing that she'd said something wrong or otherwise offensive, tucked her chin and looked up at her new friend through long lashes. Blinking slowly in a silent plead for forgiveness.

"The nice man who comes in around 10:00 am has offered to take me to his home on several occasions?"

"No," said Rachel flatly, taking a long sip of her steaming tea and coming to a decision she was sure she would regret. "No, you're not staying with some random man who wants to take you home. Why don't you come stay with me?"

"Really?!"

"For a short while. So long as you don't touch anything."

"Oh, most glorious of days! Indeed, friend Rachel, I would be most honored to stay with you! You have my word, I will not touch a thing."

"You're up late," commented Dick from the doorway.

Starfire looked back over her shoulder at him, then returned her attention to the bed. Not really knowing what she was doing, she lifted the mattress with one hand and fumbled with the sheet with the other. Eventually she was able to secure the elastic around the corner, but only at great cost to her dignity. Dick watched her keenly, but did not interrupt. He knew better than to press her; Starfire would tell him what was wrong in her own time. Still, it upset him to see the usually boisterous alien so quiet. Up so late, in the dark. They were preparing this room for Beast Boy, just a room in a warehouse, somewhere for him to go when they broke him out. Dick had been setting up the space since they'd learned about him, but it wasn't until Rachel had committed that he felt sure it would be used.

"I want it to be ready," Starfire finally mumbled, turning to face him and giving him a sad smile. "He's been in there for months. I want this to be a nice place when he gets out."

"Dr. Roth say anything?"

"No," she sighed. "She thinks he's safer inside the cell. But I do not accept this. We can protect him from any threat he faces, he shouldn't be locked up like…"

"Like you were?" He said it softly, still, Starfire flinched. Dick took about five and a half steps and came to her side, placing his hands on her shoulders. "We're going to get him out, Star. And soon. Dr. Roth's been with him for a twelve days now and already she's agreed to help. You just need to give her time. She's right to be concerned about what happens when she takes action."

"A time of great change is coming," Starfire whispered, looking into Dick's dark blue eyes, like oceans of consciousness. "None of us can hide for much longer."

"This city needs us. It needs a team that could just bust in and rescue Beast Boy no questions asked. The fact that they were even able to set up all this infrastructure means they're well-funded. They won't stop with Beast Boy."

"No, you are correct, the time for honesty is long past. I fear, though, that Rachel does not see it that way. Even as her friend, I fear that Rachel will choose her secrets over Beast Boy."

"From what Vic says, Beast Boy doesn't share your concern. He believes in Rachel completely; we should do the same."

She placed her hands on his arms, then moved them to his face. Wordlessly, she brought their lips together. Not as an exchange of knowledge this time, but an exchange of emotion. Her desperation met a wall of calm certainty and she felt relieved by its fortitude. Sighing heavily, she broke the contact and leaned their foreheads together. Dick smiled at her, running his fingers through her hair and holding the back of her neck.

"We can do this Star," he soothed. "We're going to do this."