Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. All is the property of DC Comics. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit entertainment.
Artificial Scion
Chapter Six: Training & Brunch
Experiment 13 dodged a giant robotic arm as the mechanical monstrosity lunged for him. He didn't like these new tests Westfield had ordered.
It was true that the artificially created demi-kryptonian often complained to Roquette that he was board. His mind unengaged. His body restless in the tiny space that was his whole world. When she had come to tell him that he would be going outside -as in, outside-outside- for special testing and training, he had been ecstatic. Over-joyed. He'd never been outside the six walls of his cell before, let alone outside of the station. Needless to say, he was excited.
They took him far from the station in a medium sized EVA shuttle-pod. It was the first time Experiment 13 had ever seen Roquette with his own eyes. She was not what he expected. Petite, with medium-length blond hair, she wore the standard issue white jumpsuit that was the space-equivalent of a lab coat. But she only wore it up to her hips, the sleeves of the suit's top were wrapped around her waist, allowing her to show off a rather brightly colored and loudly patterned top that looked like it had clawed its way out of the 90s hair-metal era, gotten lost in a 70s disco, then died on her torso. Experiment 13 was pretty sure the other scientist who worked with him didn't dress like her.
The shuttle-pod decelerated when they neared a debris field.
As it was explained to him, this was where several independent defense contractors who made weapons for the government tested their effectiveness. One of Cadmus' sponsors had been able to reserve the field specifically for this Project. They were going to test Experiment 13's combat readiness and begin training.
When he asked why they needed to know if he could fight and why they wanted to teach him to fight, the demi-kryptonian was quickly stonewalled. No one told him anything.
He was then pitted against three mobile-suit type robots -donated by Lex Corp, whatever that was. They weren't really 'giant robots', they were more like giant robotic exo-suits. Each one contained a human pilot and so Experiment 13 couldn't just destroy them. But he didn't know how to disable them either. No one had ever taught him how to fight and none of the programmed education they gave him before he became conscious covered how to disable a space-born combat mobile-suit.
Only wearing a new jumpsuit of all black with red light-piping and a small oxygen tank, Experiment 13 felt outmatched and outgunned by the three ordinary Earth-humans, with their large mobile-suits, complete with multiple weapons fixtures, targeting software, and high durability limb attachments.
Experiment 13 dodged one giant robotic arm, only to be smacked hard by the other. The force of the blow would have sent him rocketing towards the moons of Mars were he not caught by the second mobile-suit. It caught his smaller body in both its large mechanical hands and began to squeeze. Adding pressure slowly, trying to compress the telekinetic field that encased Experiment 13's body. Were there sound in space, the demi-kryptnoian was sure he would have heard the metal of the machine straining against his near invulnerable field. But keeping the mobile-suit from crushing him was also a strain on him and Experiment 13 didn't know how much more of this he wanted to take. He didn't like these new tests or this 'training'. He was ready to go back to his cell now and be board and alone with his thoughts.
Then he felt his oxygen tank buckle under the strain and he panicked.
He might be invulnerable. He might be able to survive just fine in space without a protective and pressurized body-suit. But even he needed to breath! The moment the demi-kryptonian realized his one and only air-supply was compromised, he didn't think -he just acted. Lashing out of pure instinct, his TTK wild in an effort to free himself.
The mobile-suit arms that held him ruptured. Bursting at the seems, each rivet and panel rocketing off in opposing directions.
Experiment 13 propelled himself backwards, away from his opponent. Half way between relived for himself and concerned for the pilot. He gave a glance to the other mobile-suit which was quick to react to help his comrade before his eyes flicked down to his tank's oxygen gauge. The little needle was falling fast into the red-zone of the gauge. He trusted the mobile-suit pilots to take care of each other. After all, they must do this all the time, testing weapons for Lex Corp -or whoever it was that donated the MSs to the Project. They would be fine. He on the other hand...
The demi-kryptonian flew back to Roquette's EVA shuttle-pod and tapped on the exterior door of the air-lock, asking to be let back in. The hatch was released and he floated inside, pulling the heavy door shut behind him. Experiment 13 stood in a tiny room, barely bigger than he was, eyes fixed on a small LED screen that displayed the pressure status of the air-lock. When the pressure of the lock and the rest of the shuttle equalized, he was given the green GO light and the emergency lock on the inner door was released. It was only then that he removed his face-mask and damaged oxygen tank.
Roquette met him at the air-lock. "Let me guess, you got scared again, then poof."
He nodded, holding up the damaged air-tank for her to see. "I, uh, yeah."
The geneticist sighed, resting her fists on her hips in resignation. "We're just gonna have to break you of that habit."
...
In all honesty, Tim was ambivalent to the idea of going back to Space Lab.
He hated space travel and all that entailed. He hated trying to walk in low gravity and absolutely loathed trying to maneuver in zero gravity. Tim was of the opinion that if he -specifically- was meant to go into space, then he would have been chosen by a magic ring that could encase his body in a magic aura that supplied him with oxygen, kept him pressurized, and insulated him from the freezing temperatures of space. Or, he would suddenly discover that he was the last survivor of an alien species that could survive in space without an vac-suit. Or was endowed by the gods with the magical ability of invulnerability. Since Tim was not a Lantern -of any color-, nor was he any variation of an alien, nor was he the chosen champion of any mythological pantheon, he concluded that space was not for him.
But then he would think of Experiment 13 -of Kon-El. With his innocent wide blue eyes. Curious and trusting. He looked like a grown man, maybe just a few years younger than Tim himself. But he wasn't. He was a child. A baby, really. With a child's innocents and naiveté. Tim didn't know what Cadmus wanted to do with the homo-kryptonian hybrid, but he was pretty sure that whatever it was, was shady and nefarious and not at all the sort of thing an innocent boy like Kon-El should go through.
Tim did not want to go back into space. But he did want to help the strange man-child.
The dilemma was pushed out of his head, however, by Cassie and Bart each grabbing one of his arms and dragging him by the elbows out of his 'mini-batcave'-like bedroom at Titans Tower.
That's it. This was the last time he was ever gonna give Cassie his security codes so she can water his bacteria cultures while he was away! Barging in on him while he's (brooding) working, and bringing Bart with her! Unacceptable!
"Dude! Welcome back!" The speedster chirped as he and Wondergirl dragged him, toes scrapping the floor, to the door.
"So... what'd you bring us as souvenirs?" Cassie asked as she attempted to put him on his feet properly so that he could walk himself out. Right. Like Tim was going to make it any easier for them to abduct him and force his involvement in whatever absurd shenanigans they had planned to commemorate his return to the atmosphere.
"A new case-file and an anecdote about thorough investigation." He replied blandly. "Where are you taking me?"
"Welcome home brunch!" Bart said as if this should have been the most obvious thing in the world. "We haven't seen you in two weeks!"
On his other side, Cassie nodded. "So, we all got together and thought of the perfect place to take you out to eat..."
Why did her smile look so evil?
Twenty-three minuets later, Tim stood in civilian clothes, surrounded by the current roster of the Teen Titans -also, all in civilian clothes- standing inside a Red Robin, waiting to be seated. Tim Drake glared up at the restaurant logo and said, without looking at his comrades, "I. Hate. All of you."
His words were met with a chorus of giggles and snickers from behind their hands. Yes. Har har. It was so hilarious to take Red Robin out to eat at Red Robin. Let's all have a good laugh while we keep Tim away from his (brooding) work.
With a sigh, Tim flopped down on one of the slightly better than uncomfortable seats available for parties waiting to be seated. At least he'd get a meal on someone else's tab. That was nice. And they offered never-ending fries. That should keep Bart happy and out of everyone else's food.
Cassie nudged him in the shoulder. "So... tell us about Space Lab." She prompted. "Rumor has it that's where they're hashing out plans to build a Death Star."
Tim almost snorted at that. Not the idea that they might be building a massive planet-destroying super-weapon, but just the idea of the rumor itself. It reminded him of the other technicians up on the station and all their absurd theories about the secret lab in the core. All of them were wild and ridiculous and not a one of them close to the truth. The secret lab had been growing an alien-human hybrid. Why? That was still unclear. But Tim was pretty sure that Kon-El was a far cry from anything like a 'Death Star'.
"No, nothing like that." He told her. "Just the usual shady conspiracy stuff. Secret lab, mad scientists, naive and misunderstood creation."
"Ooh, like a Frankenstein monster?" Cassie leaned in closer. "That sounds fun! Should we mobilize the team?"
Tim paused a moment to imagine the Teen Titans descending on a confused and unsuspecting Experiment 13, his crystal-blue eyes gazing at them with curiosity and wonder. Victor would proclaim them to be the champions of justice that would take him down. Then the poor homo-kryptonian would be beaten to a pulp before Red Robin would have a chance to tell them that they got the wrong idea. Ugh... Maybe he should come back as more than just a part-timer. They needed his analytical skills and critical thinking.
"No." Tim groaned. "I'm going back soon to take care of it."
Her mouth quirked into a sardonic smile. "Oh. Is this a bat-mission then? No outside help or interference allowed."
"Yes." Tim confirmed, practically jumping on that opportunity to cut her and the Titans out of the mission all together. It wasn't that he didn't trust his part-time team, or that he didn't appreciate their help, but as a group they lacked the subtlety and tact necessary for a mission like this. It wasn't just about stopping the mad scientist and freeing the naive and misunderstood creation. Interplanetary politics were involved. That meant that everything he did had to be calculated and carful. When all the Titans got together and went on a mission, 'carful' became a subjective concept.
"Alright then." Cassie shrugged in disappointment. Then her glance turned evil... "Then we'll change the subject. Have you found any cute someone to moon over?"
"C-Cassie!" Tim felt his face grow hot as a bright pink blush spread over his nose and cheeks.
Sadly, his exclamation drew the attention of the rest of the team. The Red Robin suddenly found himself the center of attention.
"Ooh! Are we riffing on Rob's nonexistent love-life?" Garfield sat on his other side, boxing Tim in. "I want in on some of that action!"
"We're not riffing yet, Gar." Cassie smiled sweetly. That sparkling All-American-Girl smile that hid a raging bitch underneath. "I just asked if he found anyone since his last 'relationship'."
Of course, she had to pronounce air-quotes on the word 'relationship'. After all, bat-clan didn't have 'relationships', they had complications. In the end, that's what romance was. A complication. A distraction. A liability. Tim remained tactfully silent, not giving them anything. He would have preferred the conversation return to his mission. Even though he still wouldn't comment on that any more than he already had, it would still be a far more comfortable topic to listen to them discuss.
...