GOTHAM CITY
AUGUST 27TH, 2010
06:17 EDT
Hawkgirl wanted it on the official record, namely, her detailed report on this mission, that this entire situation was completely blameless on her part. Any and all fault with the mission was purely and completely on Aqualad.
Hours earlier, Batman had summoned the available members of the Team (which ended up being everyone apart from Artemis) to respond to an emergency threat that needed immediate action.
Said emergency threat? Clayface was running rampant in the sewers of Gotham and needed to be tracked down and contained as quickly as possible. The mud mutant was on yet another rampage and they had been called in to aid the Dark Knight himself. They had been specifically ordered that they were to aid in the location of the villain only, leaving the actual capture entirely to Batman. Hawkgirl had been disappointed that they weren't going to actually fight, but she understood the logic enough that she was completely willing to defer to Batman's superior judgment.
A lingering uneasiness had plagued her from the moment they first dropped down into the network of waterlogged tunnels, gradually increasing over time. It was only thanks to her excellent poker face that her teammates hadn't picked up on a single iota of her steadily growing panic.
She hated underground missions.
Naturally, things went downhill far quicker than any of them could have expected.
Initially finding the clay monstrosity was easy, despite the sprawling nature of the sewer tunnels, mostly because he had found them first. He'd caught them off guard, attacking swiftly before trudging off into the depths once again, using a dangerously collapsed section of the tunnel to escape.
Forced to take a new approach, the sludge-covered heroes had tactically retreated to the bioship. Not only did they need the ship's capabilities to track their quarry, but Robin and Kid Flash both had to change into their backup uniforms from the muddy onslaught. Ski'Lira had resigned herself to having muddied armor and sludge-caked wings for the foreseeable future, as uncomfortable as the grit between her feathers made her.
Eventually, they succeeded in finding Clayface a second time, thankfully aboveground (albeit in a sprawling warehouse).
Their prestigious leader came up with the ingenious plan of splitting up. While hunting Clayface.
She had made her distaste for this inane idea known very loudly and in painstaking detail. Hawkgirl even provided a compromise, suggesting they divide into pairs so they could cover more ground like Aqualad wanted and they would have backup in the case of a direct altercation.
But Kaldur had been adamant his plan was right and her teammates had all insisted they could handle going off alone.
Forced to back off, she deferred to Aqualad's higher position of leadership and respected the chain of command. That didn't mean she was happy about it.
Thus, the Team had completely split up and spread out.
Suspicion started to set in when there was radio silence, both the comm unit and M'Gann's telepathic link inactive. Likely, the Martian had been compromised first. Intent on doubling back to regroup, she stopped as Aqualad appeared at the end of the hall.
"There you are," he breathed out a sigh of relief, but his normally expressive green eyes remained uncharacteristically blank. "I thought Clayface had taken you as well."
Tilting her head to the side, she sniffed once, promptly detaching the head of her mace from its hand and launching it straight towards 'Aqualad's' chest with a hearty swing. The metal bull sunk inches deep into his flesh with a loud squelch, making 'Aqualad's' face distort from the impact. Reeling her weapon back in, she set it into a spin, even as the imposter expanded into a vaguely humanoid pile of sentient muck.
He leered at her with misshapen teeth. "You're much smarter than the others."
"I just pay closer attention," she corrected, lips drawing back in a threatening snarl. "You smell of clay no matter what form you take."
"Hmph, clever."
A tendril of clay lashed out at her, only to be promptly tangled in the metal chain of her weapon as she whipped it forward in defense. The blow may have been sufficiently deflected, but it still allowed Clayface enough of an opening to close distance. One of his massive, blocky fingered hands snagged one of her wings, wrenching her sideways and through the nearest wall.
Fortunately, the wall was made of old brick, which meant it mostly disintegrated on impact, providing at least some cushioning. It still hurt like hell, though. Sprawled on the ground in the next room over, she coughed at the sudden plume of dust, only to see Aqualad standing before her. The faint scent of seawater (and the distinct lack of clay and mud) that always emanated from the Atlantean confirmed that it was the real Kaldur'ahm this time.
"Hawkgirl, what-?"
"Move!" Surging up from the ground, she bodily tackled him to the side just as Clayface burst through the wall she'd just fallen through, obliterating even more of it.
Regaining his footing quickly after her well-timed shove, Aqualad summoned his water bearers and moved to engage the raging villain. Taking the moment of reprieve he was giving her, Ski'Lira gave a full-bodied shudder as she registered that the dust from the old brick was mixing with the sewer muck still stuck between her feathers. A quick test of her wings confirmed her growing fear that the grime was drying into a near-plaster like substance that meant she had zero chance of flying anytime soon.
Huffing with growing frustration, she reeled in the chain of her weapon, returning it to her preferred static mace form, diving into the fray.
Hawkgirl and Aqualad proceeded to lead Clayface in a tag-teamed chase through the warehouse. Isolated from the rest of the Team, they were focusing on buying time, as they knew for a fact back-up was well on its way.
Despite their best efforts, they ended up thoroughly cornered in the largest room of the warehouse, the unconscious bodies of their teammates littered around the floor. That at least explained where Clayface had been storing all of his victims. Hawkgirl had barked out she could handle Clayface on her own for a minute, giving Aqualad the opportunity to check everyone's vitals. Only once he'd confirmed they were all relatively fine did he rejoin the battle.
But they were still losing badly, and they both knew it. The fight had gone on too long, and their movements became sloppy with growing lethargy. Clayface did not have the limitations of a mortal body, just as full of energy as he had been when they first engaged him in the sewers. One of the benefits of being a pile of sentient clay, she supposed.
A hard hit slipped past her guard sent her careening off the side, her helmet slamming into a metal support pole with a hearty clang. Vision temporarily blurred from the impact and breath knocked thoroughly out of her lungs, she was forced to inaction as Aqualad was pinned to the wall.
Their time had run out.
A rapidly growing shadow obscured the light casting through the skylight above, heralding the arrival of the cavalry. Crashing through the skylight with a shower of glass, Batman threw two explosive batarangs at the arm keeping Aqualad in place. Clayface let out a roar as they detonated, releasing the Atlantean and dropping him to the ground like a bag of wet cement.
Back flipping out of the reach of Clayface's responding attack, Batman unveiled a device from his belt, and with a press of a button two metallic prongs shot out. The probes sunk deeply into Clayface's malleable 'flesh', followed shortly by a burst of electricity.
A horrific roar left the supervillain, one that rattled the remaining windows of the room and made the ringing in Ski'Lira's ears momentarily intensify. There was nothing Clayface could do as he melted into a puddle of harmless, unmoving goo.
Masked eyes darting around the room, Batman looked less than pleased.
As the only two that had maintained consciousness, Hawkgirl and Aqualad were the first to recover, and had rushed to rouse everyone else. Despite the ordeal, the worst injury suffered was a mild concussion afflicting Kid Flash, though his accelerated healing was sure to take care of it soon. Everyone else boasted bruises and equally injured pride.
Honestly, considering how badly this mission had gone, they were lucky that there wasn't a casualty. Once everyone was upright, Batman had ushered them out of the warehouse, and they began the shameful trek to the nearest Zeta point. Said goal was roughly twenty minutes away on foot from their current position.
And considering they were down to exactly one flier, as Hawkgirl's wings were well out of commission until a thorough cleaning took place. Thus, they were forced to make the walk.
With his near perfect knowledge of Gotham City's layout, Batman led them on a path that only made sense to him, taking narrow alleyways, scaling buildings, and bounding across rooftops. The combination of their defeat and the presence of their collective mentor had been an effective deterrent for conversation, even silencing the ever-talkative Kid Flash.
But the longer the quiet lasted, the more Hawkgirl could feel her temper rising. She was angry. Incredibly angry at how this had all gone down, especially since this entire situation could very easily have been avoided entirely. And when a Thanagarian was filled with rage, they tended towards lashing out sooner rather than later.
Dropping back, she positioned herself near Aqualad, who had a faraway look in his eyes that only stoked the fires of her ire.
"I hope that look is because you are reflecting on your mistakes." She hissed, keeping her tone quiet enough so that only he could hear.
Kaldur's eyes cleared, turning his newly returned focus to her. "I apologize, but I did not hear what you said. Do you mind repeating it?"
Growl rumbling deep from within her chest, she resisted the sudden urge to deck him straight in the face. "I said that I hope you are reflecting on your mistakes. Namely, not listening to your second in command."
Glancing away, he refused to meet her eyes. Or at least the closest approximation one could get with the white lenses of her helmet.
"I apologize, but-"
"No, I don't want to hear any excuse from you about why you fucked up." She snapped, raising her voice more than she intended to, inadvertently gaining Batman's attention.
"Hawkgirl, stand down." He ordered, which she knew meant 'this is not the time, save it for later'.
But she couldn't quite bring herself to do so, instead stopping entirely and grabbing Aqualad's arm with a tight grip. "I told you explicitly what would happen if any of us tried to take Clayface on alone, and you didn't listen. And what happened? He took our teammates out one by one. Do you know how easily he could have gotten rid of them permanently?"
"Hawkgirl!"
Freezing at the command, Ski'Lira dutifully released her hold on Aqualad. Her jaw clenched as she looked over to see Batman standing before them, disapproval radiating off him in waves.
For the rest of the journey, Aqualad was wisely moved to the front of the group with Batman, while Hawkgirl was sandwiched between Superboy and Robin at the very back.
Needless to say, there was palpable relief when they reached the Zeta Point.
MOUNT JUSTICE
AUGUST 27TH, 2010
07:58 EDT
"I need to talk to Aqualad," Batman announced after everyone had made it through the teleporter. "The rest of you, hit the showers and head home." It was safe to assume he intended the literal meaning of the phrase.
"Head home?" Superboy scoffed. "I am home."
Wally, M'Gann, and Superboy were content to follow orders, heading deeper inside the mountain, most likely straight towards the bathrooms. Ski'Lira and Robin remained behind, the former standing with her arms crossed, eager to hear the oncoming lecture.
"Just Aqualad," Batman insisted, tone leaving zero room argument.
Knowing better than to disobey direct orders again, Hawkgirl stalked off with a huff. Vaguely she registered Robin muttering to himself under his breath, but she was too preoccupied with her inner rage and the muck still clinging to her outsides to care.
By the time she made it into the designated women's showers, M'Gann was already stripped down and humming an aimless tune to herself in one of the cubicles. Having taken a brief detour to her room for extra clothes, she set the bundle of civvies down on the counter. With every piece of armor she took off, more globules of mud dropped onto the tiled floor.
Stepping under the spray, she was incredibly thankful for whomever had made excellent water pressure in the showers a priority in the mountain's reconstruction.
"Today's mission... didn't go so well, huh?" M'Gann called out tentatively.
Not really in the mood for a commiserating conversation, Ski'Lira answered anyway, not wanting to take her irritation out unduly on the Martian. "Understatement." She mumbled instead, scrubbing at her hair as hard as she could, uncaring of how tangled her locks were getting. All she cared about was finally ridding herself of the unidentified sewer detritus.
"I still can't believe I let Clayface trick me like that." There was a soft smack, indicative of M'Gann slapping her hand against the wall in frustration.
"Now you know for next time." Ski'Lira pointed out drily. "This likely won't be the last time someone will try to use an ally's face against us."
"I'll keep it in mind. I-" M'Gann stopped herself when she heard the hearty whump originating from the other side of the room. "Um... Are you okay over there?"
The cause of the noise was her attempt to turn and wash the muck off of her wings, only for the feathery appendages to collide with the sides of the stall. "This cubicle is too small for my wings."
"Do you... want some help? You can say no, I just thought I'd... offer."
Mentally declaring defeat in this matter, she reached over and turned off the shower. "Thanks, but I think I'm just going to go home." Uncaring that she was dripping wet, she stepped out onto water and mud-splattered tile and pulled on her clean clothes. Her cloth mask soaked through almost immediately after she put it on.
As she was bundling her dirtied uniform, armor, and mace under her arm, M'Gann emerged from her own shower, a bright yellow towel wrapped around her. "Um... Have a nice night, Hawkgirl."
"You too," she replied almost absentmindedly, Ski'Lira gave a wave of farewell as she trudged out of the bathroom, leaving little puddles in her wake.
H
ST. ROCH, LOUISIANA
AUGUST 27TH, 2010
07:12 CST
"Well, this is definitely one of the stranger things I've caught you doing."
Ski'Lira shot a glare in her father's direction, but didn't cease her task. Getting the remaining dirt out of her wings was the priority, thus her current attempt to power wash her wings via the hose attached to the side of the house.
Shaking his head with fondness, Katar pried the hose out of her hand. "Turn around."
Relieved that he had saved her from further twisting her arms into increasingly more impossible angles, she complied, stretching her wings to their full length. She tensed when the first stream hit, but remained still.
"What the hell did you get into?" Katar asked, stepping closer to examine her feathers, yanking off a clump with his fingers. "It's like glue."
"Fought Clayface in a sewer, then fought him in a warehouse that should have been demolished thirty years ago." She answered in monotone.
"... I do not envy you."
Twisting her head around to snap at him, she was promptly blasted in the face by a stream of water.
"I missed," her father smirked, looking a little too pleased with himself.
Ski'Lira exhaled sharply through her nose, obediently facing back forwards before he 'accidentally' sprayed her again. By the time the last particle of dust and the final, stubborn smudges of goo had finally been removed from her feathers, she felt more like she'd taken a dip in the ocean than an improvised shower.
"Go dry off and change," Katar ordered, carefully looping the house back around its designated hook. "We're heading out."
Her brows furrowed, "We are?"
"I need to get back to the museum." He told her. "I still have some work I need to get done."
That just confused her further, "Then why did you come home? Did you forget to pack a lunch or something?"
"No. A certain bat told me that I might need to have a talk with my daughter."
H
Casting a last look to make absolutely sure that she and her father were completely alone, Ski'Lira plucked the aviators off her face and tucked them into the pocket of her baggy, green khaki jacket. Rolling up her sleeves, she snapped on a pair of disposable latex gloves.
Carefully laid out on the metal tabletop before her was a section of mosaic art with a scattering of tiles, torn straight from a wall in Venice. The piece had only recently been recovered from an art smuggling ring that had ended up in their neck of the woods, along with crates of other priceless works. Everything had been taken to the Stonechat Museum of Art and History for examination, registration, and registration, all under the purview of its completely civilian (and definitely not alien vigilante) curators.
During transit, this particular piece had been jostled around enough that a good chunk of the tesserae had either fallen off completely or were in danger of doing so. Most of the tiles were still intact, but a few had broken or cracked. So far, the work had already been done to clean the mosaic and its pieces, as well as carefully remove the loose tiles for repair.
Now all that had to be done was to carefully log each tile, wrap it in protective foam and bubblewrap, and pack it away safely so that the entire thing could be shipped back to Venice. There, restoration specialists would put the entire thing back together, exactly where it belonged.
Because of the ease of the job, it had been entrusted to Ski'Lira. Tedious it may be, an endless loop of picking up a tile, matching it to the reference image, logging it, tagging it, and wrapping it, but this was far from the first monotonous task she'd done to help out the museum. She even had her own badge and everything.
She remained undisturbed in her work, music playing softly from a radio in the corner filling the silence, set to the classical music station. It wasn't her usual listening choice, but she needed something soothing in tandem with the menial task, the two working in tandem to reign in the last vestiges of her explosive temper.
Her semi-meditative state was broken by the telltale sound of the door opening, sending her immediately on alert. Before she could scramble to put her glasses back on her face, her father's voice called out, "It's just me."
Relaxing again, she returned to the current tile she was wrapping as Carter stepped into the room.
"How's it going, Skylar?" He asked, glancing over her progress.
Despite the fact they were the only two people in the restoration wing of the museum, the Halls maintained their strict 'No Thanagarian names outside the house or pre-approved settings' rule. It was better to be safe than sorry.
"It's going," she scooted her chair over slightly so that he could see the log list, and how greatly it had grown since he had set her down to this task hours ago.
Humming under his breath, he set down a Styrofoam cup of tea and a blueberry muffin on a cleared part of her workstation. As he double checked her work so far, she pulled off the latex gloves, throwing them away and grabbing the tea, taking a grateful sip.
"Excellent work," Carter praised, stepping back and heading over to the table right next to her. Instead of a mosaic, this one bore several different pieces of Viking jewelry that required inspection. These artifacts were staying in-house for display for the foreseeable future, obtained from a small museum in Iceland that had traded the Stonechat for a display on Gallic weaponry.
"How's upstairs?" Tearing off a chunk of the blueberry muffin, she popped it in her mouth, careful to keep the foodstuffs far away from anything important.
"The replacement cases for the gem collection are finally reinstalled and the security system's fully reconnected. That burned most of my day."
Despite what one may believe, the replacements weren't due to a break-in or burglary. A recent hire on the janitorial staff had accidentally tripped an alarm while sweeping. In his panic, the handle of the broom he'd been using cracked the sturdy glass, setting off even more alarms. Needless to say, the man had received stern warnings not to repeat his stunt, from both of the curators.
No one ever wanted to be on the wrong side of a lecture from Carter and Shayera Hall.
"I suppose your day was more... interesting."
There it was. It had been a matter of time before her father finally brought up the disastrous mission, especially now she'd been given thorough time to calm herself down. She'd been growing increasingly suspicious of when he'd finally confront her, starting with his silence on the car ride over.
Picking at her muffin, she kept her eyes locked on the tabletop. "I suppose."
"Why don't you tell me about it?" He was certainly not asking. "Before you protest, security feed's off, the doors are locked and alarmed, and the only other person currently in this building is the night guard, who is on the second floor."
He'd effortlessly destroyed every potential argument she could have made. "Batman already told you what happened, didn't he?"
"He did, but I'd like to hear your perspective before I start lecturing."
Clenching her jaw, she paused, not to delay the inevitable, but rather to order her thoughts. In as professional a manner as she could manage, reminiscent of the debriefings after missions, she recounted the events of the day, starting with Batman's initial assignment to the moment he dismissed them from active duty. Every now and again she would stop to take a sip of her tea or nibble on part of her muffin.
Carter kept his silence through the entire retelling, maintaining it for a good few minutes after she had concluded her story. Sighing, he ripped off his latex gloves, dropping them into the nearest trash can. "You know, your mother and I figured something like this would happen sooner or later?"
"Something like what?" She prodded, finishing off the last of her muffin. "A failed mission?"
"No. Butting heads with your superior." He corrected, running a hand through his dark brunette hair. "Though we honestly thought the result would be a hell of a lot bloodier. Good on you for your restraint."
"Thank... you?" Legitimately unsure whether to take that as a slight against her character or a compliment, she waited for him to elaborate on his point.
"And you're wrong, your mission wasn't a failure. Despite the deviation from your objective, the end goal was still the same. And what's rule five?"
"Always expect a plan to go wrong and adapt accordingly," she recited. "But that wasn't the problem. Plans go awry, I know that, and I know how to compensate. The problem was that our appointed leader had a terrible plan and didn't listen when I advised him against it."
"I'll give you that, but you have to realize this isn't as unexpected an event as you seem to assume." At her confused look, he continued. "Your team is new. Very new. You've been active as a unit for barely two months. Honestly, if every task the League set out for you was done to absolute perfection, we'd be concerned about body snatchers or mind control."
"Okay, yes, but-"
Her father kept speaking as if she hadn't attempted to interrupt, "Your different backgrounds make cooperation more difficult. Robin, Kid Flash, and Artemis are all street-trained. Miss Martian was trained extensively in power use, but has little to no actual combat education. Superboy is effectively learning everything as he goes. Aqualad has formal Atlantean military service under his belt and you have standard Thanagarian combat and military training. Do you see the potential issues?"
"I know," Ski'Lira insisted. "And we've been practicing to compensate for that. But none of that changes the fact Aqualad made a mistake that nearly got us all killed."
Carter went quiet after her frank statement, mouth set in a grim line. She remained patient, knowing he'd speak in his own time, whether it be justification on either party's part, or vilification of their actions.
What she hadn't expected was for him to tell a story.
"Back when I was on the force, one of my fellow officers was promoted to commanding officer when our former leader died on a raid that went bad. I had gone through the academy with him, trusted him. We all agreed he was suited best to the position, as he had a knack for improvising plans on the fly that nearly always succeeded. But things don't go that well forever. Our squad was sent to investigate a series of random murders. We thought it was a serial killer and managed to track the trail of bodies back to a hideout. Turns out it was a mercenary group. Their base was well defended and our escape route had already been blocked off, which meant it was fight or die. Our lieutenant came up with a plan to take our chances and move the entire squad forward to engage the main body of mercenaries. No one agreed with his plan. I suggested splitting the squad in three, one to distract, two to sabotage the building itself, bring the whole thing down on the mercs. He refused."
Pausing mid-retelling, a shadow crossed over Katar's eyes. "We lost two good officers that day. The rest of us ended up in the hospital. My comrade apologized for not listening, admitting that he had grown dangerously overconfident and should have listened. He learned from his mistakes and was eventually promoted to captain... I believe he still runs his own precinct."
Tilting her head back, Ski'Lira stared up at the ceiling. "So... Aqualad was wrong and I was right, but I should forgive him because it means he won't make the same mistake again."
"Good, you actually did listen."
Rolling her eyes, she huffed. "I understand, Ta'me. And... Thank you. For understanding."
"Your experience is nothing compared to some of the arguments I've had with the League over planning. Be thankful you've never had to fight with Green Arrow over a pros and cons list."
H
MOUNT JUSTICE
SEPTEMBER 3RD, 2010
18:05 EDT
"You guys are great and all, but I have to admit, it was very nice having some time off." Wally announced, head fully upside down thanks to his graceless sprawl over the common room's couch.
"You know that I hate agreeing with Baywatch on anything, but he has a point." Artemis chimed in, folding her arms. She sat cross-legged on the kitchen counter, bow laying across her lap.
"Time off?" Sounding the words out as if he had never heard them before, Robin let loose a small cackle. "There's no such thing in Gotham. Unlike you guys, I was still out every night."
"Oh yes," Clasping his hands together with full dramatics, Wally looked at his friend with feigned reverence. "Please recount for us in detail how you are the superior vigilante because you never sleep."
Content to leave the two to good-natured bickering, Hawkgirl gave Superboy's shoulder a nudge. "Did you enjoy your break?"
Superboy's eyes flickered over to M'Gann, the two meeting eyes for an instant before flitting away, cheeks flushing pink. Cocking a brow at the accompanying smiles on both of their faces, she deadpanned. "I'm going to take that as a yes."
Before she could interrogate him about this new development, a virtual summons came from the Bat via Robin's hologlove, ordering them to the main hub. Artemis hopped off the counter, slinging her bow back over her shoulder as Kid Flash zipped up to his feet like a marionette jerked upward by its strings. Just as they stepped into the main room, the Zeta Tube whirred into life, the computer announcing a new arrival.
"Recognized: Aqualad, B02."
Batman never broke his attention on the screen before him, fingers continuing to tap on the accompanying keyboard even as Aqualad approached. "Made your decision?"
Kaldur nodded tersely, face set with resolve. "The decision is made. I am here. One hundred percent."
Hawkgirl had no idea what that was about, but she was sure to get it out of him when she took him aside later for a chat. After all, she did have something of an apology to make. But that entire discussion would have to wait.
"Just in time for your next mission." The Dark Knight announced as the Team regrouped in front of him. "The Watchtower detected an immense power surge in the Bialyan Desert…"