June 6th 2020. Atlantic Ocean. 10:22 CDT
Ellis stood over the eight-year old girl, his towering frame of almost six and a half feet eclipsing the short girl in overalls and a t-shirt.
"Alright, repeat it back to me, Sis," he said, arms crossed as if his business was gravely serious.
The two stood in the center of a run down apartment lobby in the heart of Chicago's rougher neck of the woods. The place was five stories tall and abandoned since a few years back, but was no less of home for that reason. Ellis had worked hard on restoring it to habitable status for him and his gang of Defectors to take refuge. Filled to the brim with kids, orphans and street rats, it still wasn't pretty, but it was safe, and it was a home lined with family and memories, for him, and every other occupant.
The little girl took in a deep breath. She was determined to get it right this time, she walked over to the two bags of dog kibble about as big herself, beginning the recitation she'd been going over for almost a week, "Four bowls of kibble in the alley when I wake up, reading for two hours at least, three bowls in the alley before sundown, and bed by ten."
"Ten?"
"Please…?" she asked, with a toothy smile she hoped would win over the teenager. She was short, with narrow, brown eyes and slick black hair. She didn't look a thing like her adoptive brother, but it didn't mean the girl failed to pull at his heartstrings.
"Ten o'clock," he conceded, with a short cheer from the girl, "and not a minute later, alright?"
"Promise," she said with a nod, "The dogs will be nice and happy too."
"Good, I don't wanna lose any customers," he said with a smile, slinging a faded blue backpack over his shoulders. It sported his name in dark marker and childish handwriting on the top, and inside were a few t-shirts, a collection of knives and a handgun, with his mask and costume stuffed at the bottom, and a toothbrush his sister had convinced him to bring along.
"Can you believe this kid's nerve?! He was about to leave without giving us all a hug and a kiss!"
A bulky teenager was the source of the question, leading in a group of a dozen or so adolescents along with him, all dressed in a varied assortment of messy scuffed up clothes, but smiling brightly as they threw in their jokes and comments at Ellis, who couldn't help but smile himself.
"You think playin' hero makes you too good for us, pretty boy?" Jaz asked, slinging his arm tight around the other.
"Hey, hey, I'm the real deal now," Ellis meekly defended, he knew better than trying to fight against the tidal wave of the gang's teasing.
"Man, Defector University is finally getting a true Summer break with Teach out of the way," another boy called.
"I would hope you all keep reading while I'm gone," Ellis said.
"I'm losing brain cells already, Teach!"
"Like you had any," Jaz quickly replied.
"Just remember that Sevii's in charge while I'm gone," Ellis joked, nodding to the little girl, who was clearly taking her role as substitute gang boss very seriously.
"How about you remember to make it back in one piece," Jaz said, less joking and more worry in his tone, echoed by nodding from the crowd. "Chicago needs X just as much as those East Coast chumps."
Ellis almost blushed at the compliment from his older friend, nodding before answering, "I'll be careful, thank you Jaz. Try to keep everybody out of trouble while I'm gone."
"Since when have we ever gotten in trouble?" he asked, offended, earning a splattered cackle from the rest of the boys. "Now, get out of here. We got, you know, books to read, and all that."
Ellis grinned wide, nodding along, and walking out of the shoddy apartment lobby with an exaggerated wave behind him.
Sure the guy was out of earshot, a lanky, scarred up boy turned to Jaz, "You're not really gonna make us read, right, boss?"
"You can't read anyways Riff," he slung the words, keeping the kid quiet while earning some laughs. "Sevii, you might wanna scram for a minute."
"But, Ell said-"
"I heard what he said," Jaz replied grimly. The girl walked off pouting, looking for nicer kids in the building to spend time with while her brother was out on his new mission. "Now that Ellis is out, we're taking out the Sharks. What they've been doing by the high school is no joke, we're cutting them off. Pluckin' 'em by the roots."
"What do we tell Ellis when he gets back?" Riff asked, eager to make up for his insult.
"That we just edged 'em out. Ellis wants us protecting the school anyways, it's better he doesn't know how it gets done."
"Why's he the boss at all? Just cause he's got that name? That mask?" Riff pushed further.
Jaz wrapped his arm around the kid's neck, pulling his skull into Jaz's chest. "Maybe it's cause you weren't with us back in Gotham, punk. But it's clear as crystal why he's the boss," he let the kid go with a shove, "Nobody messes with Ellis, just like nobody messes with the Defectors, without him, everybody in this building would be livin' off scraps, if they were still breathing at all. Don't you ever forget that."
Ellis bobbed his head back and forth before keeping his vision still and returning to the pencil sketch on the dirty notepad in his hands. A mixture of furious speed and precision, he shaded in another part of the artwork, failing to notice the black town car pulling up in front of the bench he was sitting at. It was only when the driver stepped out and opened the passenger door in front of Ellis did he realize his ride had arrived.
"Hi there, Yasmine!" Ellis stood quickly and snatched at his backpack stepping towards the car.
"Your bag, sir," the driver stated, politely holding out a gloved hand to take it from him.
"Oh, no worries. I can put it away," Ellis said with a smile, but his offer was dashed by Yasmine.
The girl leaned from her side in the roomy rear seat of the car, looking up from her phone, "It's his job, Ellis, give him the bag."
Not dropping his smile, he carefully passed over the backpack, watching the driver's every move as he dropped it into the trunk with Yasmine's luggage. Only after the trunk was shut tight that he could breathe easily, "Thanks, it was Jeeves, right?"
The driver ignored the comment, closing the door behind Ellis as he joined Yasmine in the back seat. "Thanks for the ride, by the way, it would've been a rough-"
"Ellis, right?" A middle-aged man in the front seat reached a hand through the partition, offering it and a practiced smile. "I'm Daniel Heppenstall, Yazz's dad and manager. Note the order of those two."
The boy met the handshake while the car started up, "Um, your dad?"
"He's fine. I didn't tell him about any of really the secret stuff though."
"Like my secret identity?"
"I'm cool, Ellis," the man emphasized his words, "I'm her cool dad, I think the whole team-up is great for her image."
Yasmine rolled her eyes, "I accidentally called Lionel the cool dad, can you please drop it?"
"Hey, it's dropped," Daniel assured her, "because I'm the cool dad."
"Partition is going up," Yasmine said, regretting inviting even one of her dads along with the her on the trip to New York.
"Don't do anything back there I wouldn't approve of!" Daniel ordered before the tinted, soundproof glass reached the ceiling of the car.
Yasmine went to typing something out on her phone, and Ellis quickly put the finishing touches on his sketch before carefully tearing it out of the notepad. "Here," he said, offering the drawing to Yasmine. "You didn't have to offer me a ride all the way from out here in Chicago, it was nice of you. Sorry I can't give you more than this."
The girl looked over the drawing. It was carefully shaded, a little messy but good. It showed Karisma standing on the roof of some nondescript skyscraper, smiling and dressed in costume. When Yasmine first became a superhero, this was the kind of scene she imagined herself being a part of, some beacon of a hero, just like the comics she kept hidden away in her room.
She looked up at its artist, to see Ellis with expectant eyes, waiting for some sort of judgment. He looked too big for the car, seeming to tower high despite him sitting still. Even his eyes were too big, like large, hazel dinner plates, coupled with long eyelashes. Smooth blackish brown hair spilled out of a beanie cap. The only noticeable blemish of the boy was an "X" shaped scar across his face, in the exact spot where that "X" was placed on the boy's mask. His Batman hoodie jacket and jeans seemed a little old, like they were clinging to tightly to the boy's narrow frame.
"Thank you," she finally managed to get out. "It's," she looked for the right word to describe what the picture meant, but shook her head and abandoned the idea. "It's really not that big of a deal, the plane was nothing."
"We're flying?"
"You wouldn't think a superstar would let herself get stuck in a road trip for twelve hours, would you?" the boy's demeanor seemed to change a bit, as if he was unsettled by the news. "Don't tell me you're scared of heights," the girl said tauntingly.
"It's just been a while," he admitted. "First thing I ever remember was getting off of a plane with that backpack in the trunk."
"You must've had a nice family if you were jetting around the world as a kid."
"That was only around two years ago," Ellis said. Those dinner plates were out of focus, looking past Yasmine, instead seeing the Gotham City terminal he recalled so vividly.
"Alright, I'm lost," Yasmine said, "Aren't you like fifteen or something? How's your first memory from when you were already a teenager?"
"I'm not sure," he explained with a shrug. "I'm chock full of mysteries, aren't I?"
"Something like that," Yasmine said with a shake of her head. She was unsure of what to do with the boy next to her, unsure of what to do in general. She acted on a sort of impulse, pulling out her smartphone, and putting the sketch in the best possible lighting she could manage.
"You can keep the picture," Ellis said, "you don't have to photograph it, y'know."
The girl settled on an angle and snapped her shot, beginning to rush out her Tweet before responding to the boy. "It's a good drawing. I figure other people might wanna see it too."
She freed the image onto the internet, and then snatched up a black cord. "What kind of music do you like, Ellis. My cold, cold heart's been touched, I'll let you pick the first song of the road trip."
"Oh I don't know," Ellis said with little thought, "I usually let Jaz and the other guys use the radios we've got." He paused, but could see the girl was pretty dissatisfied, if not insulted with the answer. "Hey! Why don't we play some of your music? I've been curious about it since I heard you were a musician."
"Are you saying you've never listened to my album? You didn't even cross one of my songs on YouTube or something?"
"That's the video website, right? Sorry, we don't have any computers back at my place," Ellis admitted with a nervous laugh.
"You don't even have a laptop? A smartphone?"
"What's a smartphone?"
Yasmine just about went into cardiac arrest at the question. "Excuse me?"
"I'm kidding. I know what a smartphone is. But, nope, no cell of my own."
The girl recovered from her shock, laughing a bit at herself. "I'll see what we can do about that. Anyways," Yasmine pressed the play button on her phone, and the beginnings of a catchy, electronic beat began playing on the speakers, "allow me to introduce you to Karisma."
The short drive that followed was mostly occupied by Karisma's music. Ellis was careful not to interrupt, but in the brief break between tracks, he would offer his thoughts, earning a sparse conversation with the girl until the next song began to pick up. Nearly at the end of the album, they reach the airport in Chicago.
Yasmine's dad was a bit overbearing once they were inside, not letting the two teenagers out of his sight. Throughout the terminal, people were running up in packs to say whatever they could to the girl. Yasmine reveled in the attention, signing, smiling, posing and shaking hands with whoever wanted to come forth.
Lucky for the weapons in Ellis' utility backpack, they were exempt from the normal security measurements. But, just being around the celebrity meant he caught some of the attention as it rebounded off of the icon he was accompanying. He took pictures, smiled wide, and politely answered "No," every time an over eager girl asked the two teenagers about being an item, though each time the question was asked, Mr. Heppenstall ground his teeth together just a bit more.
Finally on the private jet taking the pair out to New York, Ellis felt able to breathe easily, out of the crowd. But, Yasmine was coming down from the rush, Tweeting about how great her fans in Illinois were for greeting her at the airport. There was a bit more drawing, pop music and a plethora of stupid jokes before they touched down on the East coast.
Countless miles in the air, the two all but forgot about their destination and their other names. What was supposed to be a strange and awkward trip had transformed into something all too normal for the pair. But, that's not to say one would've heard any complaints from the two of them.
June 6th 2020. Queens. 21:45 EST
Anthony Romero was early again. He kicked a pebble into the ocean water, only for the tide to hit the shore, rejecting his gift. The boy hated waiting around aimlessly in the night, especially in costume, he started to overthink things.
Tonight it started with thinking back to his job. Why'd he leave so early? It's not like he was excited to come tonight, was he? What was there to be excited for? Giving the League what he thought they deserved? The charming company? Getting beaten half to death?
Another pebble flew to the oncoming tide, gulped down into the black waters.
He never asked to be a superhero. He never asked for powers, or a special name, or a ridiculous mask or his stupid belt. God! Why'd that tall-ass in the mask have to make fun of his belt the other night?
Anthony reared back his leg, aiming his prized foot strike at the next pebble. And, his leg went flying, but no rock. He missed a pebble? How on God's green earth did he miss the pebble? What the hell was wrong with him?!
Anthony vented his question with a half dozen stomps of his foot onto the small rock, crushing it completely before catching his breath and walking away from the crime scene.
"What'd it ever do to you?" a girl's voice asked, turning his head around fast enough to give himself whiplash. Gripping the handlebars of her bike, Weasel had joined him. "You doing alright KD?"
"We're not at nicknames yet, girly," he replied, turning away from her to get a better look at the nothingness out on the water.
Nicole Wesley recoiled at the comment, dismounting the bike with Junior perched on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to strike a nerve or anything."
Anthony pitied the timidity of the girl, but couldn't bring himself to apologize. He knew that even if he tried it'd come off as an insult, or a threat, or something in between, so he just chose to shut it, inviting another killer silence.
Nicole probably should've just let their conversation end there. But, she couldn't help herself from asking just one of the questions that had plagued her ever since her meeting in Blüdhaven a week ago.
"So... do you believe them?" she asked plainly. "Vixen, Hood, do you believe them about this whole conspiracy thing?" the girl did her best to act as if she was only dubious, as opposed to absolutely sure they were all lying through their teeth. "I mean, it is a little out there, right?"
"Vixen's a hero," he resolutely stated, as if it was answer enough. "Wouldn't surprise me if those League schmucks got caught up in some stupid mind control plot."
"Schmucks?" Nicole angrily replied. "The Justice League has saved your life more times than you'll ever know. I'd think a superhero like you would be a bit more understanding of what they've done for all of us."
Knuckle laughed, but it came out more like a rough bark. "Oh, sure! When the cameras turn on they're all action for the spotlight," he conceded. "But, I've never seen the red undies in an alley at night, where's a Green Lantern when a gangster starts recruiting kids out of junior high?"
"They've got more important things to watch out for," Weasel defended, blood boiling that the boy could say any of this with a straight face. "The League isn't perfect. But, they're the ideal for the world, they're meant to represent the good that we can all aspire to. How many kids do you think they help just by serving as an example?"
"Well now, don't they have you wrapped around their finger?" Knuckle accused. Weasel froze. Had she said too much? Was her cover blown? Her mission failed just like that? There was no way, right?
"I mean," she quickly took to course correcting. "When they're not mind controlled, or whatever, obviously, now they're a problem."
"So, you do believe those three?" Knuckle observed with a bit of confusion. "Why even ask, no need to find out which side of the fence I'm on if you've made up your mind."
Weasel felt a thin volley of sweat forming up on her brow. How could she consider herself worthy of being a part of the Team with her brother if she failed her very first mission?
"I could've taken us to any restaurant in the state. And you refuse every offer for a six-dollar hot dog?" The voice got closer as it chastised, and both heroes turned to see Karisma and X walking towards the ocean water, the boy holding half the meal he was being scolded over. His mask was tilted up to allow the boy to eat, revealing his face without much care. It was the first time Anthony had seen the other boy's face. The argument between he and Nicole stopped, much to the latter's silent relief.
Ellis laughed at himself. "How can you not want a New York street dog? Plus, I had to confirm my suspicions," he admitted.
"And what suspicion was that?"
"Now I can die happy. Chicago's got better street dogs," he said resolutely, wrapping the last bits of his food up and tossing it away in a grimy metal bin. "You okay?"
He was addressing Knuckle Duster, who'd spaced out for a moment before the question brought him back to level ground. "Hm? Yeah. Wait, no, I just heard somebody claim Queens' hot dogs weren't the pinnacle of street cuisine. I heard a lie."
"Sorry to offend," X said with a laugh, his face still openly exposed. "So, it's safe to assume you're from around here?"
Knuckle realized what he was saying, and admonished himself for revealing something like that. "Not exactly," he tried to recover, doing his best to insert some more edge into his voice, "just... familiar is all," he lied, turning away from the bare-faced boy and back to the water.
"Sushi rolls, filet mignon, caviar, Michelin stars and you guys are arguing about hot dogs," Yasmine lamented.
"How's the arm, Weasel?" Ellis asked, nodding towards the girl, who was still recovering from her cover coming under fire.
"Oh," she said, rubbing where her recent wound's mark was fading, "I'll be fine, seems it went clean through. I'm ready for action."
"Hopefully we won't have to break in this time around," Yasmine noted, nodding towards an expanding break in the seawater. Emerging from the murky depths was the Manta Flyer, discretely arriving against the shore.
"That supposed to mean Atomix isn't showing up?" Knuckle asked, walking towards the ship's opening hatch.
"Must've wanted to join early with the other two," Weasel merely shrugged, but took note of the change as part of Atomix's behavior for her ever expanding report, to be turned in at her next appointment in Blüdhaven.
June 6th 2020. Atlantic Ocean. 22:04 EST.
"C'mon, now Manta, my guy," Dilias Sangriente pleaded, walking close behind the super villain as he made his way through the Manta Sub. "Why can't we just move up part of the schedule? I'm dying for my end of the bargain here. Starving for that Trident."
"Manipulating any part of the plan on a personal whim will, no doubt, obliterate the integrity of Operation Saratoga," Black Manta curtly replied. "You'll get your prize soon enough."
Dilias snarled quietly. He despised being deprived of his goodies. "You're just nervous I'll bail out once I get my paws on it, right? We can just make a deal, Manta, you know I'll keep my word then."
"I know better than to make a deal with a devil."
"No fun, no fun at all!" the demon complained.
The two boarded a lift to transfer them from the Sub to the recently returned Manta Flyer. "I'm sure you'll have plenty of fun, now that all your friends are back on board."
"Oh, please," Dilias' eyes just about rolled out of their sockets, "They're even less fun than you, my guy. Even that one girl was a let down, let alone all the boy scouts you brought onboard. I assumed your dream team would be a bit less straight and narrow."
"If you truly think them all so noble," Manta chastised, "then you really must pay closer attention."
He wanted to press the older man for more answers, but their privacy was cut short by Vixen appearing between the lift's opening doors.
"Should I be worried about you too getting to know each other better?" she asked with a clear edge of both fear and apprehension towards the duo. Dilias reveled in the former of those two.
"We're just palling around, y'know?" the demon answered, slinging his arm over the slightly taller villain with a toothy grin.
Manta stiff armed the teenager, pushing him firmly off his armor. "Are the rest assembled?"
"Just waiting on your pretty faces."
Manta let go of Dilias so he could breathe easy, and walked by the woman to the same conference room in which their meeting had concluded last time the team was assembled.
"For the record," Dilias remarked, slowly following his lead, "you're not so bad yourself."
"I could rip you in half without breaking a sweat."
"I'd be kind of into that…" he jokingly admitted, shooting a wink that earned him a groan of disgust from the grown woman, who was now last to enter into the room.
In the conference room, the other six teenagers were already seated, embroiled in sparse conversation concerning food, much to some member's frustration, other's agitation, and Red Hood's starvation, as the young man was beating himself over not picking up some take-out before getting on the ship.
"Trust me," Knuckle affirmed brashly. "There's this Italian joint just a bus ride from where we got picked up. I'd have it three times a day, if I could. I'd live there," he claimed.
"I don't need your fine dining," X rebuffed, "after a night in the mask, I take down two street dogs, and I'm out for about a day. I hibernate. Absolutely prime."
"You don't need to starve yourself while you're out," Kid Star argued. "I just bring a coffee when I'm in costume, hide it somewhere when that action starts and I'm good to go."
"Do you order your drinks in costume too?" Atomix asked with a grin, "I'd love to see what you do when they get your order wrong."
"Oh, they know my order, buddy," she said, "First name basis with every barista in Gotham."
"I bet they still misspell 'Kid Star,' on your cup though," he noted.
"They're getting better, though. Last night, I got 'Kick Star,' so… yeah."
Yasmine scoffed at these claims, "You guys haven't eaten until you've been on a world tour. I was falling in love with chefs in four different continents."
"Just give me a backyard barbecue," Weasel said, reminiscing about the smell of ribs on a grill. "You guys think Manta cooks on here? With his little manta apron, manta stove and manta appetizers?" she joked, earning some laughter from the team around her.
She was happy to hear her sense of humor resonated with the crowd, but immediately realized what she was doing. This was way too close, right? She didn't have any reason to be cracking jokes with the people she was meant to take down. But, steadily calmed herself, grinning at Atomix's response. No, it was just a part of the act. Nicole was just pretending to get closer to them, that was all.
The Trinity formed up in the conference room, finding a much more lighthearted team than the one they'd face one week prior. Dilias found a seat on the opposite end of the table, leaving plenty of space between himself and the rest of the teenagers. Their arrival signaled the end of the jokes, and the laughter subsided as the three took a stance in front of the screen.
"Glad to see you four join us," Vixen honestly noted. She appreciated the extra numbers on her side. "Like we promised last week, you guys are going to be going through training all weekend. If all goes well, we'll consider beginning what we call Stage Two at the end of it."
Kid Star broke in, jokes and coffee firmly out of her mind, "Is that what you guys were setting up in Gotham? With that moth guy and his goons?"
"Killer Moth and his men are not a bunch of 'goons,'" Black Manta jumped to defense, "after what they'll be doing for us, we're in their debt."
"Perfect," Atomix said, "I love making shady deals with shady characters," the comment was meant to be a jab at Manta, but it merely brought Yasmine's mind to her hand.
"Well, more shady characters," Kid Star gestured towards Red Hood and Black Manta. Despite arriving on the ship a bit early, it seemed neither were privy to what had gone down before the other four had joined up.
"You guys showed a lot of promise," Red Hood ran with the verbal baton, trying to reset the conversation. "But, you've all got glaring holes in your techniques and approaches that we're going to start curbing tonight. You'll be training with the three of us, with each other, and even with some of Manta's more experienced troopers to shore up your mistakes, and get you ready for the field."
The screen behind them flickered to life, showing a few pictures of Weasel in action across the Sub. Her fighting with a trooper, stealing the information from the Sub, and even getting her shot, the images reviving memories of the pain that had started to subside in her arm.
"Weasel, you and Junior work well in acquiring information," Vixen pointed out, "But, if you can't defend yourself in a fight, then you're a liability in the field." The comment was callous but honest, which made it hurt even more. Especially when it came from a traitor, Weasel didn't take lightly to the words. "You'll be working with Red Hood on that," the man gave a wave of acknowledgement at his name being called.
Kid Star's pictures were next to come up, but the girl interrupted before Vixen could continue. "I'm sorry," she said. "But, could these comment cards be given privately? I'm not sure I enjoy everyone on the team knowing where I come up short," she said. Her eyes kept contact steady with the woman, but Dilias rolled his own all the same.
"Equally as important as knowing your neighbor's strengths is knowing her weaknesses," Black Manta dismissively explained. "Otherwise, it will be impossible to learn how to strategize and coordinate properly. Of course," he paused for a moment, "if you'd like Ms. McCabe to be a bit nicer with her words, I'm sure she can find the vocabulary to accommodate your… feelings," he said the last word as if he was talking about fairies, discussing a subject matter that was mythical and preposterous, much to Kid Star's contempt.
"I wouldn't have put it that way," Vixen quickly said, "but, he has a point. We had a discussion about you all receiving training," she added, and then continued with her presentation.
"Your metahuman powers are strong, but your energy fails to keep up the pace they can set," Vixen explained, highlighting a few images of her flight speed decreasing and energy bolts becoming less powerful. "You'll be running endurance training with Black Manta," she noted nervously. Black Manta gave a slight nod, as if to parrot Red Hood's actions, but Kid Star gave no such polite response.
Atomix was shown next, in his fights with Trooper B-652 and Dilias. "The Firestorm Matrix is one of the most unique and powerful ability suites," Vixen plainly stated. "But, exploring that set of powers is important, you need to be fighting in a way that uses the best part of your powers for each given situation. No offense intended," Vixen was now trying to curb the critical edge of her words after Manta's interruption, "you seem a little green in fights with people you can't just blast away. You'll be running a variety of combat simulations with a squadron of manta troopers on the Sub."
"I don't get a cool training partner?" he complained, to a bit of scolding from Jason, whom he tried to ignore.
Vixen moved on to Anthony, and before he'd even heard any comments, the boy was already prickly and ready to lash out at the comments, "What've you got for me?"
"You've got combat experience," Vixen said, prefacing the medicine with sugar, "but, you're overly reliant on your metahuman powers. As a result, they become drained away before the confrontation is over. You'll be learning to fix that with me," she said with a grin. But, Vixen knew the boy would've probably gotten enraged at the idea of learning with anybody but the woman who had invited her.
"Yasmine," she moved on, and the screen came to life with shots of Yasmine on her phone, waiting patiently or doing very little in their last mission. "Your power is unique and potent. But, it's clear you have the least amount of combat experience here. You'll be going through basic training with a batch of manta recruits." 'And, hopefully,' Vixen thought, 'they'll pass on some humility.'
The last screen was split down the middle with pictures of Dilias and X.
"Nice," Dilias said, he'd been anxious to fight the guy since he'd arrived, finally it seemed they'd be paired together.
"X, you're the only one of this team with no extranormal abilities or special equipment. It's clear you also have little experience fighting against the supernormal. To give you that, you'll be getting a crash course in the strange with your new sparring partner for the weekend, Dilias."
"We're gonna get real close," Dilias followed up with a smile. "Now what possible flaws could you have identified in myself, Animal Woman?"
"None," Vixen stated, turning off the screen. "Despite your failure to combat the correct opponents, you've got no flaws in your skills or fighting capability. Enjoy your weekend."
Dilias laughed maniacally, "Oh, I will now. Whoo, you sure know how to swell a guy's head, sister!" he then not-so-quietly whispered to Atomix, "And other bits and pieces too, if you catch my drift?"
"That's enough," Vixen curtailed the joke, "You're all dismissed, Manta's going to show us we're we'll all be sleeping, eating, and learning for the next few days."
"Yes ma'am!" Dilias couldn't get over the humor of everybody getting their weakness shoved in their face except for him. "Let's get to some hard work, heroes!"
"Ah, Red Hood, could I talk with you, for just a minute?" As the group began to file out of the room, the hero nodded and hung back, staying quiet until the rest of them had left for their grand tour.
X stood, removing his mask. Red Hood didn't reciprocate the gesture, "Not disappointed about your assignment, are you, Ellis?"
"Of course not," the boy quickly answered with a shake of his head. "Well, maybe just a little, but that's not what I wanted to ask you about."
"What's up, then?"
"From what I understand," he began. "Black Manta is the one who chose every member on the team," X said, and Red Hood nodded.
"Everyone except for you, Ellis."
"Because you chose me," another nod from Red Hood, "but, why?"
"Feeling a little left out? No powers, no utility belt?" Ellis smiled politely at the joke, but it's clear he wasn't just looking for a punchline. "Vixen probably shouldn't have singled you out like that. But, the truth is, Ellis, that I don't fully trust a roster that Black Manta hand-picked. I wanted at least one person among these kids I could trust. And when I heard what you've been up to since we'd last met, I figured you were a shoe-in, utility belt or not."
"So, am I supposed to be your mole? Your eyes and ears?"
"No," Red Hood resolutely stated, wanting to curb that line of thinking. "You're just another member," Jason sighed. He was terrible at this crap, getting stuck to try and sort out feelings with these kids was impossible. It made him feel like he was lacking so many skills that normal people were supposed to have, ones he simply seemed to lack.
"Don't doubt your place on this team," is what Jason settled on, awkwardly patting the tall kid on the shoulder. "And don't doubt Dilias either, he wouldn't be on this ship if Vixen and I didn't see something beyond the whole evil demon thing."
"I'm sure there is," he said confidently. "I trust you. I have since you saved me."
"You're makin' me blush under this ol' mask," Jason said jokingly. "Just for that, I'll give you a little side quest," he offered, redoubling his efforts to make some sort of connection. If he couldn't manage it with Ellis, he wouldn't be able to do it at all. "There's something that Dilias wants out of this whole Operation," Jason told him. "I know what it is, I know why he thinks he wants it, and I know why he really wants it. But, if you can tell me why he really wants it too by the end of the weekend, I'll… I don't know… I'll let you know where Manta hides his manta cookie jar."
Ellis laughed, slipping back on his mask before joining the rest of the team. "You got yourself a deal, Red Hood. I'm holding you to it."
"Just wait until you see his manta apron," Jason noted, leading the way out of the door, "it's adorable."
Kid Star and Black Manta had been the last to arrive at their training room after dropping everyone else and their belongings off in their respective rooms. She pulled her arm across her body as Manta fiddled away at some computer terminal.
"When are starting, big guy? I'm ready to get going," she hollered after him.
The man declined to respond, instead, concluding his business at the screen in front of him, and pressing a series of buttons on his forearm.
"Attention, all prospective members of Operation Saratoga," he announced. While Kid Star only heard the voice from across the floor, it boomed over every room in which the teenagers were preparing for their training. "All six of you have been assigned a single Proctor. For the duration of this weekend, they are your god."
Sadie rolled her eyes at the expression, but wasn't surprised at the dramatization coming from him.
"Pass your Proctor's test, and they'll reward you with the details of your role in Operation Saratoga's second stage. Fail to do so, and you'll be sitting this round out. There won't be any mulligans like the last time around, precisely because we can't afford mistakes in the field.
"I'd wish you all good luck, but, by this point, it would be sad to know you've been relying on such a thing."
Weasel stood at the opposite end of a mostly barren metal room from Red Hood. Black Manta's speech had just concluded.
"Your holsters," Red Hood began, "why does only one of them hold a pistol?"
Mixing truth with lies was the best advice she'd been given so far, and Nicole wasn't about to stray from Nightwing's tips and tricks. "One is for my blaster, one is for my brother's," she said, "I get his when I meet him again."
"He's a criminal, isn't he?" Red Hood asked, "when you meet him again, is he going to hand it over, or are you going to have to take it?"
Weasel knew that when she met Fang next, he'd be a changed kid, a hero like her. They'd both be a part of the Team, and on track to join the Justice League. He'd earned his weapon. But, as much as it pained her, she had to maintain the illusion. "I suppose I'll have to take it."
"We'll be playing paintball," Red Hood explained after the answer. "That gun there should be roughly the same as your own, except it won't hurt me as bad. You get splattered with paint, the game restarts. If you hit me, you win, and your training ends early. There's only two tricks to the game," he pointed to a metal table, "you can't use any of your normal tools, put them all aside except for the paintball gun."
Weasel sighed, she figured her matchup would go something like this. Take the tech away from the geek and force her to win without it.
"And, the second?" she asked, slowly disarming herself of all of her bombs, tools, and even Junior himself, who protested to his being sidelined for even a bit of practice.
Red Hood rolled paintball between his fingers for her to see, "I won't be using a gun."
Manta's speech had just ended when Vixen threw a thumb drive at Knuckle Duster. "You passed," she said plainly, standing with her arms akimbo.
Knuckle gripped the small device, but instantly saw through what he thought was a ruse, "Crap joke," he replied, "are we going to start training, or what?"
"Sure, we can go a few rounds if you want," Vixen shrugged. "But, the data on that drive outlines your role in the second stage. I'm your proctor. You have your prize. There's no reason for us to fight."
Knuckle Duster didn't sense the air of a lie or a joke around the woman. Just what the hell was being tested here?
The moment Manta's speech concluded another brash voice took up the role of being overly loud and obnoxious in Yasmine's face. "Alright, worms!" the man yelled, "you're to ignore what the big boss just said!"
He was acting like a drill sergeant of sorts. Decked out in a full suit of manta armor, with the exception of the helmet, he held a clipboard, and was flanked by a pair of intense looking manta troopers.
The room they stood in was massive, the size of a basketball gymnasium, stuffed with climbing ropes, walls, logs, pits of mud and a dozen or so other fully grown men surrounding Yasmine Smalls.
"For the duration of this weekend, you are all applicants for the prestigious position of manta trooper! Let me tell you upfront, you probably think you were incredibly big fish in whatever puddle you crawled out of, but out here, you are less than nothing until you wear one of these uniforms!"
Yasmine tapped her foot impatiently, her arms were crossed, and the routine was wearing on her. The other men around her, hardened and stone-faced seemed insulted that some teenage girl was hanging about so casually among them.
"In addition, you all either succeed or fail this test as a unit! If even one lowly son of a gun fails to meet my expectations, then you will all be swimming home!"
Yasmine interrupted the speech, "That doesn't include me, right? You just want me doing some drills, or something? Working out extremely far away from that, correct?" she gestured to the pit of mud. The three troopers in charge laughed at the girl.
"I am your Proctor," he introduced himself, "and your success rides on the backs of the valiant souls that surround you."
The applicants sneered and scowled at the uppity girl, as if ready to jump her in an alley.
"Best get to making some friends, little miss nobody."
Atomix was with a much larger squadron of manta troopers, roughly twenty fully armed men surrounded him in a smaller, bare, metal room. It had been almost five minutes since Manta had stopped talking, and the soldiers seemed content to just mill about aimlessly.
"So, who exactly is my Proctor?" Atomix asked, looking around at the faceless mob of armed goons. "What's my test here, huh?"
"Oh yeah, right," a soldier broke from the ranks of conversations. "I suppose I'm your Proctor."
"So what's my test?" the hero asked, a bit calmer now that some clarity had arrived onto the situation.
"It's almost ready, lemme just explain something to you first," the proctor, pointed up to the ceiling, between the lights was a cylindrical, black tube, a menacing machine attached with cables and tubes to various components along the ceiling. "That beauty right there," the Proctor explained, "is my heat seeking super soaker."
"What, that's my test? A water gun?"
"That's part of it, sure!"
The Proctor held aloft a thumb drive, shaking it around like a treat. "Get your hands on this, and you win! It'll be on my person at all times, so, once the challenge starts, find me, steal it, and you win!"
"When does the test start?"
"That's as good a cue as any," the Proctor said with a shrug, making some motion with his free hand. The moment he did, the lights shut off, and a great chorus of mechanical sounds started up. As Atomix's eyes adjusted, he noticed that walls had been raised all around him. He couldn't quite peer through the darkness, but it looked like they extended all the way to the ceiling, forming a pitch black, metal labyrinth.
"I'm not sure if it was clear," a smarmy voice shouted from some ways away. "But, that means the test has started!
The Hellborn and X had wasted no time with pleasantries. Once the speech ended, Dilias swallowed a flash drive with a malicious grin. As the other boy's sparring partner, the demon's only instructions were, "You do not get to pass. You have automatically failed your test on account of being a morally pretentious rear end. Please, try again next time!"
X had barely managed to get out a, "Wait-" when the demon began his flurry of attacks, summoning forth his Harvester scythe and beginning their fight.
After confirming the other tests had gotten underway, Black Manta returned to his own confrontation, but found Kid Star merely disappointed, as opposed to battle ready.
"You recruited me, right?" Kid Star asked, but didn't wait for an answer, "If that's the case then you've done your research into my power. You know as well as I do there's no such thing as endurance when it comes to my abilities. Either my battery is charged, or it isn't."
"The flaws and challenges that Vixen pointed out to you all were feints," Manta explained. "I figured there was a high probability you'd see through yours, that's why I volunteered to be your Proctor."
"Does that mean I've passed? What are you testing in the others?"
"Increasing the stamina of your ability is impossible," Manta agreed, but ignored her secondary questions. "What I'm actually testing you on is your coordination with your ability. In essence, I'm testing you on how much you trust your own power."
"I don't trust anything."
"A quality I find admirable. I wouldn't have it any other way," it was a genuine compliment, which sickened the girl even further than an insult from the guy. "So, I'll lay your test out rather simply.
"In essence, you're seeking seven pieces of information," Manta began to explain.
"I'm hoping for a lot more out of this whole Operation,: Kid Star interrupted, "By the way, why's it called Operation Saratoga, anyways?"
"In essence, you're seeking eight pieces of information." Manta corrected himself, and the girl took the hint to shut her mouth. "You want the proper tests for each of your six teammates, the reasoning behind the name Saratoga, and," he held up the flash drive, "your role in the second stage. Every time you knock me down, I'll answer one of your questions honestly. Only after you can tell me what every member is being tested on, and what Operation Saratoga refers to will I give you the flash drive as an answer. And, once you've received the intelligence on the second stage, I won't answer any more questions, the test will be over."
"So in essence," the girl recapped, "every time I knock you down, I can ask a question, and you have to answer it honestly."
"I'm perfectly comfortable giving you those eight pieces of information," Manta explained, "the real question here is whether or not you're confident enough to knock me down more than eight times. How far are you willing to go for the answers you seek? Will you put your inclusion in the Operation at stake for getting a couple straight answers out of me?"
"I thought this test was supposed to be simple," Kid Star actually started to feel a bit excited for her test. If Manta was telling the truth, she could have unprecedented access to the man based on her performance.
Manta shifted his stance, discussion was to give way to battle. "Simple for me. All I have to do is stay on my toes."
"Black Manta," Kid Star couldn't help it, this challenge practically had her watering at the mouth with anticipation, "I think you might've seriously underestimated your opponent here."
"Prove it, Ms. Duncan."
A/N: Thanks for reading!
I apologize for this chapter being a little short. As the first in the Arc, I had to set up a lot of dominoes for the more exciting action in later chapters, hopefully it wasn't too boring despite that. But, yes, "Lower Class Love," the second Arc has begun! It should be a bit longer than the first. I might've been a little over eager in releasing this chapter, hopefully it wasn't too problematic despite that.
Review Responses:
JackHammerMan: Thanks for the kind words! Backstories will be explored, especially the demon's complicated history/motivation.
FrozenHydra: Dilias looked like the perfect catalyst for a Deathstorm appearance, I'm glad his creator is alright with that. Also, no. There is no regular schedule for updating in the slightest. I'm The Worst.
JimmyHall24: Sorry to hear that. I'll try to make scenes more clear going forward.
AnotherBitesTheDust: Thanks for the kind words! At the moment at least, there are definite plans for some former Robin fun, don't you worry.
500wordsmore: I tried to take more time with the editing of this chapter, but re-reading is by far the hardest part of writing for me. I try to keep the cycle of answering and asking as fast as I can, I think it makes for good pacing. I haven't forgotten about the deal, there is a plan behind it!
FlamingFateZero: I've learned from my mistakes with the last story. I'm keeping my motivation at its peak. Hopefully the quality doesn't dip with my quick writing. Thanks for the kind words, I do my best to keep readers on their toes as much as the characters.
WhenUniversesCollide: A coincidental Ellis-centric chapter hopefully fixed any problems with misrepresenting him. Feel free to let me know if it still looks off target!
101romansoldier: I'm totally relieved to hear you're alright with the double agent twist, given she's your character and all. I was nervous about it being too far.
Dad. Hats: Characterization and character conflicts are the points I hope to best improve with this story. To hear that means a lot. I'll be doing my best to hold myself to the standard you've pointed out here. Hopefully you weren't left waiting too long.
A huge thanks to everyone who decides to leave any review. It really does help to get me motivated and I do my all to take all comments and criticisms to heart. I hope to see you for Chapter 5!