Chapter 9: Showdown.
Beast Boy padded down the corridor, Starfire floating on his left, Slade taking point, bo drawn. Ten minutes had passed since Jericho had pounced on an unsuspecting guard, and in ten minutes Killowat would begin his descent to the generator. If Beast Boy had not caused enough ruckus by then, Killowat would be walking into a deathtrap. And it would be his fault. Beast Boy gulped. Now he remembered why he hated the whole 'leader' thing. Way too much responsibility. He was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of footsteps from an adjoining corridor. He motioned for Starfire to stop and thought about what he could change into. He decided on a dilophosaurus; there was something about a long-dead predator charging at you that broke the morale of the average grunt. As the guard patrol turned the corner, Beast Boy felt the fire coursing through his body that signified a change, and he noticed Starfire's eyes begin to glow. As he completed his change, he turned back to the guards.
Three of them were on the floor, unconscious. The fourth was upright, but only because Slade's staff was pinning him to the wall. As he withdrew his weapon, and the man crumpled like a paper mannequin, he turned to the heroes, amusement twinkling in his one eye, disconcerting on the sinister visage.
"We're wasting time."
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Jericho stood idle, as the door took a retinal scan. Satisfied, it allowed him access, and he stepped through into the cavernous room that contained the cages.
He paced past his comrades, forcing himself to keep his eyes straight ahead. He wondered how best to send word to his friends, when inspiration struck. He walked up to the nearest cage- Hot Spot and Robin, and, standing with his back to the cage, hands behind his back, he deliberately bunched his right hand into a fist, extending his little finger. He did the same to each cage then left to stand 'guard' outside, praying his teammates had got the message.
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Hot Spot and Robin shared a look, Robin noting the relief shining in the hero's eyes. They were not abandoned.
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Argent and Herald grinned to themselves, reassured that they were close to rescue, but chose to remain silent. Who knew who might be listening?
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"…Cyborg?"
"Yeah Raven?"
"Did you notice what that guard was doing?"
"You mean the weird hand thing?"
"Yeah. What do you think it meant?"
"How should I know? Might not mean anything."
"Hmm. Could you give me a hand here?" Raven was running her hands along the bars, searching for any weak points that could facilitate a breakout.
"Wish I could, but I can't move. They drained my power cells. The only thing keeping me alive is this." He looked at a thin cable attached to his chest. "They're feeding me just enough power to keep my life support systems running, but nothing else."
Raven frowned. "So what can we do?"
"I don't know. I just don't know."
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Starfire floated along the corridor, two starbolts at the ready, keeping a watchful eye on all the side doors. It had been five minutes. Time was running out. Suddenly, the trio found themselves in a huge room, lit only by the fire surrounding her hands. As she peered into the shadows, she saw at the far end of the room a raised dais, something like a stage, with three undefined objects on it. Suddenly the room was flooded with a brilliant glare as every light came on simultaneously, disorienting Starfire. As the spots faded from her eyes, she, along with her companions, found her attention drawn to a man who had appeared on the platform with what were now revealed to be cages.
Starfire gasped. "Friends!" She flew towards them, but was impeded by a vicelike grip on her ankle. She twisted, only to find herself in the hypnotic gaze of Slade.
"Don't. It's almost certainly what he wants you to do."
Starfire frowned, unable to trust the man that had been the cause of so much pain, especially to Robin. Nonetheless, she landed. It would not do to fight this man as well, if it could be avoided.
"Well, well well. Deathstroke the Terminator, this is a surprise." The Jackal's voice was booming and sounded as insufferably arrogant as its owner looked.
Slade's reply was deadpan. "I dropped that pretentious moniker a long time ago."
"Yes, along with that rather dashing costume. I miss that costume. What with the big leather boots and the headscarf style mask, you looked quite the swashbuckler."
"You've changed as well. I'm glad to see you are no longer desecrating Grant's name."
"You know I only called myself that to vex you. But enough with this reminiscing, as pleasant as it is. Men, remove them." As he called, a veritable swarm of men burst from several side doors. Starfire gasped at the sheer volume of enemies, and Beast Boy growled deep in his throat as he shifted his stance, hunched over, feet splayed, ready to shift at a moment's notice. But Slade didn't seem to register them at all.
"I know it doesn't really work, but I just gotta say it." Beast Boy muttered as the two sides squared up. "Titans, GO!"
And battle was joined.
