Chapter Forty Three

The War World

May 27th

His eyes burned uncomfortably from exhaustion, but Nightwing forced them to stay open. He was keeping them firmly on the circular holographic screen in front of him, willing it to show him some sort of result.

Some kind of clue that could help him discover where his team was.

He needed to find them.

He really needed to find Morgan.

Of course, he really needed to find all of them, but he really, really extra much needed to find Morgan.

Funny how a crisis reveal priorities.

He'd been walking around that docking bay for hours now, scanning every inch of its surface. He wasn't leaving until he found some sort of clue.

Since the scanner on his holographic computer proved absolutely useless, he decided to use his own eyes and ears to look the room over again.

Hopping nimbly off the bridge he was standing on, Nightwing landed on the floor below, scanning it for any signs of a scuffle.

There were.. scratches on the floor. He ran a gloved hand over the damage, thinking hard. He could tell the scratches were recent.

Something strong and sharp had dug into the floor. Something like a.. batarang? The scratches looked an awful lot like the ones on the training field in the Batcave.

The scratches were pointing in a specific direction, so looking suspiciously around the room from his kneeling position, he eventually sighed and stood up, walking slowly in that directing, towards the airlock. The control board to the airlock was all smashed up, looking like someone strong had punched it.

"Airlock's damaged." He noted to himself, wishing he could just figure out what on earth was going on.

He was losing his mind with all of this worrying. It was getting difficult to focus properly. If this had been any other mission, he'd had easily been able to keep a cool head, to assess the clues calmly and professionally.

But this was his own damn team missing.

What if they were being tortured?

What is they'd already been killed?

He shuddered, not allowing himself to think like that. He had to stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it!

He narrowed his eyes and looked away from the damaged airlock, spotting something familiar to his left.

One of Robin's birdarangs had lodged itself between two pipes next to the damaged air lock.

"Robin's birdarang?" He mused to himself, swiftly walking up to it and pulling it out, bringing forth his holographic screen to scan the new clue. He didn't understand how he'd only just noticed it.

Trace of alien tech was found on the birdarang, and a new picture of the tech came up on his screen.

It looked very much familiar. It was the same sort of micro-organisms Blue Beetle's armor was made from. "Birdarang must've scratched Blue's armor." He realized. But why?

Were the two of them fighting each other, or had it been an accident?

If there was one thing he knew.. Nightwing thought as he closed down the holographic computer, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

If there was one thing he knew, it was that Tim never missed.

Morgan had been running and hiding, running and hiding, and then occasionally fighting, for hours now.

At least, she thought it was hours.

If she made it out alive from this, she was going to add a watch to her list of things to carry around in her belt.

Either way, it had felt like hours. She was exhausted. Her stomach was churning with hunger. Her throat was dry from running around for so long without anything to drink.

Worst of all, her eyes were stinging as she stubbornly held back tears. They weren't necessarily tears of sadness or fear, more like frustration and exhaustion and confusion. She felt utterly helpless and alone. She couldn't even be sure that the War World was anywhere near Earth anymore. She felt like she'd be able to tell if the machine had been activated again, but she couldn't be sure. First off, she didn't know how long she'd been unconscious. Somebody could've easily moved the War World to the other side of Jupiter while she was out, and she'd never even know.

Second, she couldn't even be a hundred percent sure that the thing wasn't moving right now. sure, the whole place was eerily silent, missing that humming a moving craft usually made, but maybe she was so far in that she just couldn't hear the humming? Maybe they were in outer space already and she'd end up being sold as some space prostitute to a purple alien with tentacles like that shit the boys in her high school classes liked to watch.

Morgan ducked around a corner to evade getting hit by the shots being fired at her, waiting for the two Reach guards to approach.

She tripped the first one and wrenched the staff from his hand, hitting the other firmly over his head with it.

He fell to the floor just as the other jumped for her and, instinctively, she used his own staff to shoot him.

The alien's eyes rolled into the back of its head as it fell next to its companion.

Had she killed him?

She shuffled closer slowly, bending over the alien.

No. still alive.

Which must've meant that the leaders of the organization had asked the guards to 'set their phasers to stun' because they wanted Morgan alive. It gave her a bit of hope, because if the rest of the Team had been taken, this meant there was a bigger chance that they were still alive too.

There was no doubt that the Reach knew about her presence on War World by now. Hours had passed since she'd happened upon the first Reach soldiers. They'd have woken up and reported on her long ago. It was only a matter of time until she either grew too tired to keep going, or some of the guards managed to catch her. Morgan knew that.

But she'd be damned if she didn't go down fighting.

There was also the possibility that she'd get saved by someone from the Team or the League. Obviously people would've noticed her absence by now. Somebody had to be looking for her. She refused to believe otherwise.

Deciding that this staff was actually pretty handy, she chose to keep it as she jogged down the corridor. Reaching the end of the hall, she flattened herself against the wall and peaked slowly out into the new room.

Empty.

She slid along the wall and kept close

to it as she walked silently across the room, allowing herself to walk instead of run.

To her surprise, right as she was turning into another corridor, the communicator in her ear suddenly crackled to life.

After waking up, it hadn't taken her long to attempt contacting the Team and then the League with her communicator.

Unfortunately, it also hadn't taken her very long to find out that the small tech had gotten damaged during her fall. All she got was static. She wasn't even sure why she'd decided to keep the thing in her ear, but now she was glad that she did.

Pausing, she held a finger up to the thing to better listen to the person on the other side.

"—Ars-nal to te-e-eaam- 'ome i-nn. Code –ed. Co- red." The reception was terrible as words cut off and changed pitch, but she could just about understand what was being said. "Arsen- Watch-ower. Ome in Justi-gue!"

It was Arsenal. And he was trying to contact the rest of the Team. And the League.

She realized that now might've been a good time to answer.

She pressed a hand to her ear again, answering his call. "Arsenal?"

There was a moment with no reaction and then. "Sp—row?"

"It's me!" She quickly replied. "I'm inside the War World. Where are you?"

"-Sam-e." He answered. Morgan was relieved to know she wasn't the only one on the run. "Giv - location."

He wanted to know where she was. Morgan had no bloody idea, how was she supposed to tell him?

"Just a sec." She let go of the communicator and jogged to the end of the large room she was in. There was a door, with a plate on it.

Only problem was, the plate was kind of in a foreign, extinct alien language.

Sighing in frustration, she pushed the door open and stepped inside the room. "A dictionary would've been good by now." She muttered as she looked around for something that could help her figure out where she were.

"Oh!" she couldn't believe she hadn't noticed immediately.

The room she found herself in was long, a row of beds with complicated machines around them on either side.

It was obvious that it was an infirmary of some sort.

Pressing a hand to her ear again, she spoke up. "I'm in the infirmary!" She told Arsenal triumphantly.

"Alrig—sta-y where – are-e-e. I-i-i-m c—ming"

Morgan dropped her hand back down to her side and looked around the room. All she could do now was wait, she supposed.

As she sat down on a bed closest to the door – in case she'd have to make a hasty retreat – it occurred to her that this might not be the only infirmary onboard.

It was a war ship roughly the size of the moon. It would most certainly be pretty friggin' weird if this was the only infirmary.

She could only hope that Arsenal would magically end up in this infirmary before trying any of the others.

"Arsenal, how many infirmaries are there on the War World?" She asked over the communicator. She knew the younger boy had a map of the spaceship after their mission.

"Sev-en."

Seven?!

They'd be lucky if he managed to find her at all!

"But I could be in any of those seven infirmaries." She worriedly responded.

"So – fi—ure out - floor you'r—on."

She hopped off the bed again and headed for the door, dearly wishing that she understood what those plates said.

She traced the first line of foreign letters, figuring that they must've spelled out infirmary.

The second line must be the one telling her which level of the War World she was currently on. She didn't need to understand the first word. That probably just meant 'level'. But the second word..

She really wanted to know what it said.

Then it dawned on her. The symbol was familiar!

"Omega." She whispered, a startled smile on her face.

"wh-at?"

"I'm on level Omega! The lowest level!"

There was a small pause. "The-owest lev—does –have an -fir-fir-firmary"

"That's gotta be it!" She decided. "Get down here!"

"-on't rush – me, doll."

Morgan was so thankful that she could understand the stupid symbol to even get a little bit annoyed that he'd called her doll.

Apparently the alien race had been to earth before, and provided their ancestors with a numeric system. Huh.

She couldn't know how long it would take Arsenal to get here, so she decided to use her telekinesis to push one of the heavy beds in front of the door, preventing anyone from entering.

"I've barricaded the door, Arsenal. Just tell me when you get here, and I'll remove the blockade."

"—ee ya –in a mo-moment."

The connection went dead after that, but Morgan didn't mind the silence anymore. The pressure in her chest lifted slightly as she waited for Arsenal to find her.

Being trapped in an alien spaceship with another alien organization chasing after you sucked a lot.

But maybe it would suck just a tiny bit less when you weren't doing it alone.

May 28th

The Reach guards found her before Arsenal did.

To be honest, she hadn't expected much different. They were surprisingly good at sniffing her out. It was like those dreams where you have to hide from some sort of monster, and no matter how quiet you are or how good your hiding spot it, the monster will find you.

And apparently a closed door just screamed 'SUSPICIOUS' to the guards, because she hadn't even been in the infirmary for more than twenty minutes when she heard the tell-tale sign of that clicking language of theirs, and then someone trying to force the door open.

Morgan was faced with two options.

Now, the bed she'd moved against the door was pretty huge and very heavy, not to mention all the crates and tables and other stuff she'd stacked onto it. Unless they had some explosives, or a really strong guy nearby, the guards weren't getting in. So she could easily just let them rot outside for all she cared.

But letting them stay outside was essentially just locking herself inside. She couldn't stay in there for very long. And the guards could easily go and get a whole squad to help them out. Meaning Morgan would be trapped by too many guards with stun-staffs.

And Morgan also had good reasons to believe that Black Beetle was on board the spaceship. The guards would most definitely fetch him if she didn't do something about them.

She didn't fancy going up against that guy. He'd taken out some of the Team's strongest members, while they were all going against him all at once. If Morgan had to fight him alone, he'd squash her like an insignificant bug on one of her best days. And this was most certainly not one of Morgan's best days. In fact, she couldn't remember feeling this lousy in a very long time. She was utterly exhausted from running around the War World for at least a day now, a time span in which she had neither eaten, slept, nor had anything to drink.

Her body was going to shut down at some point if she kept going like this. She had a few days left, tops. Then she'd need to find some sort of sustenance, or be forced to hand herself over.

No, meeting Black Beetle in battle right now was not going to go well.

So she really only had one option. She had to take out the guards on the other side of the door before they could get help.

Taking in a deep breath, she focused mentally onto the big heap of junk in front of the door, and moved it to the side.

A few seconds later, the aliens attempted to open the door once again, this time clicking in delight when it slipped open.

Morgan used her powers to send one of the aliens harshly into the wall before she moved him back, crashing into the other one.

Then she aimed her stolen stun-staff at both of them and stunned the two aliens. Dragging them inside, she positioned them against the wall rather carelessly. She didn't bother with her barricade anymore. As she'd already realized, that blockade was just as much trapping her inside as it was keeping them away.

Not two minutes later, a certain ginger stepped through the door.

"Arsenal!" She called, so incredibly glad to see a familiar face, even if it belonged to her sour and gun-happy team mate.

Morgan knew she used to have a bit of an attitude problem, but she personally like to think that she'd never been as bad as Arsenal was.

But that didn't matter right now. What really mattered was that she was no longer alone on War World.

"Hey doll." He smirked.

She paused, blinking at him.

And then decided to let it go. She could deal with the nickname for now.

"We have to get going. I just took out those two," Morgan pointed at the unconscious Reach guards, "And I can't know for sure if they thought to call for back-up before I did so."

Arsenal nodded and walked back out the door to the infirmary, Morgan following after him.

Almost two days since the Team had gone missing.

Two days. Forty eight hours. Two thousand, eight hundred and – nah, forget it, he was not doing that.

Calculating how long his team had been missing wasn't going to bring them back. If he wanted to get them back, he needed to actually work on figuring out what had taken them.

And to be honest, he wasn't so sure it had been Mongul.

Dick really didn't want so distrust anyone on his team, but he was currently distrusting Blue Beetle quite a lot.

Being the only team mate that had escaped a group kidnapping wasn't that suspicious in itself.

It was more the fact that Dick was currently watch Blue Beetle hold a press conference with the Reach ambassador, the smarmy alien giving Blue all the credit for shutting down the War World. And then using Blue Beetle as another link between the Reach and Earth, because the armor was of Reach, but the wearer was from Earth.

There was no doubt about it.

Robin had definitely not missed his target.

Nightwing was fiddling around with the birdarang, listening to the broadcasting of the ambassador's announcement of Blue Beetle's 'heroic act'.

As he watched Blue Beetle praise the Reach ambassador, Nightwing really wished there was any other conclusion he could make.

But he'd be a fool to pretend he couldn't see the painfully obvious.

Blue Beetle had betrayed them, just as Impulse had warned them all about.

Somehow, the Reach had regained control of Jaime's scarab, and it was currently controlling him.

This proved to be even more likely when the Blue Beetle, on screen in front of millions of people, drew back part of his armor, allowing everyone to see his face.

Not even fully realizing he was doing it, Blue's treacherous words, along with the discard for Jaime's secret identity, made him so angry that Nightwing snapped the birdarang in his hands in half.

His eyes narrowed dangerously behind his mask as he sat and shook with silent rage for a few moments.

He'd bring the Reach to their knees, no matter what. They'd pay for taking control over Jaime. They'd pay for trying to invade Earth and turn its inhabitants into mindless cattle. They'd pay for kidnapping his team.

They'd pay for taking Morgan from him.

He shook his head to expel that last thought, hating himself for even thinking in.

The entire Team was gone, and he should be worrying equally about all of them. No room for special treatment.

But his worry for Morgan wasn't just because he had feelings for her. She was his trainee, his responsibility. He was the one how'd discovered her and gotten her on the Team. If she died, he'd be entirely responsible. And he'd be the one who had to tell her mother.

Nightwing was just about ready to shut down the TV and then head for the War World for another scan, when the entrance to the Warehouse was pulled open, someone entering.

He jumped from his chair and mentally readied himself for anything. Was it someone from the Team who'd escaped? Was it an enemy? Was it just some random thief hoping to hit upon a warehouse with valuable contents?

"M'gann!" He exclaimed in surprise when practically the last person he'd expected to appear at that moment suddenly stood before him.

May 29th

"I can't go on much longer." Morgan panted out as she leaned against the wall of the corridor they were currently hiding in.

"Just stop thinking about how tired you are and keep running." Arsenal responded, grabbing hold of her wrist to drag her along behind him.

"You don't understand." She gasped out, her sides killing her as they kept running. "I've neither had any food or water for three days now. If we keep going, I'm worried that I'll literally die or something."

"Don't you have anything useful in that utility belt of yours?" He shot back.

Morgan really needed to talk to him about that nasty attitude of his.

But not right now. Truth be told, they'd actually been a pretty good team. He'd had plenty of opportunities to leave her behind to fend for herself, but he'd stuck to her side since the beginning, the two of them having each other's back.

"Can't we find some place to rest?" She hated how whiny she sounded, but her head was swimming and her eyes burning with exhaustion. She could barely focus on her own two feet as her eyes kept trying to slip shut.

"That's a supply closet, I think. We can sleep in there for a while." Arsenal decided, pointing with his metal arm at an unassuming, brown door some way's down the corridor.

They slipped inside, finding the place awkwardly small.

Cramming as close to the back as they could, they now sat side by side, hidden behind a shelf of towels.

Morgan thought it was a bit strange that the War World had supply closets with things as mundane as towels.

"We can take turns watching." Morgan offered.

"Not necessary." Arsenal replied in that nasty attitude way of his. The bad tone didn't bother her anymore. Over the past few days, she'd come to learn that that was simply how the teenager spoke. "I've set an alarm in my arm. If anyone enters, I'll wake up."

"Awesome." She mumbled over a wide yawn. "It's really handy, that arm of yours."

Arsenal didn't respond. For a second, Morgan was afraid she'd accidentally pissed him off. She had commented on his fake arm, after all. It was still a touchy subject for the kid. Having your arm removed against your will so an evil organization could use your DNA to create a clone of you wasn't something you immediately got over.

Then, look over at him in the dim light, she realized that he hadn't answered, simply because he was already asleep.

He must've been far more tired than he'd been letting on.

Her last thoughts were muddled as Morgan's own eyes slipped shut, her head lulling to the side as she fell asleep almost immediately.

May 30th

Morgan was startled awake quite suddenly, two thoughts entering her mind.

1. Ew, I'm drooling.

And

2. Argh, I've been leaning against Arsenal's shoulder in my sleep.

Wiping the drool from her mouth, she sat up properly and blinked groggily, her back sore from her uncomfortable position against the wall.

Thankfully, Arsenal was still sleeping and had apparently missed that she'd been leaning on his shoulder.

She got the feeling he'd tease her relentlessly about that if he had known.

And then use it to get a rile out of Nightwing because he, for some inexplicable reason, had gotten it into that thick, buzz-cut head of his that the two of them had a thing going on.

Which was obviously ridiculous.

It hit Morgan that he hadn't actually seen the way Nightwing and she had been at each other's throats the first few months of her training. All he saw was two teenagers that were good friends. He didn't know that they'd argued quite a lot – and still did from time to time – so maybe it did make sense that he was the person on the Team most likely to think the two of them were in a date-type situation. Everyone else on the Team understood their dynamic. He didn't.

It was still ridiculous of course.

She shoved his shoulder to wake him up, figuring that they probably had to get going. It would only be a matter of time before somebody found them.

He startled awake immediately, and, because Arsenal was honestly a bit high strung, he closed a hand around her windpipe in his surprise. She didn't really react because she herself was very much caught off guard.

He had probably thought she was one of the Reach guards.

His eyes were narrowed into two tiny slits on his mask as he squeezed just a tiny bit before seeming to realize that it was Morgan and not an enemy.

He sighed and let go, Morgan coughing uncomfortably as she rubbed at her throat. "Quite a grip you got there."

"Sorry." He forced out through clenched teeth, sounding like he didn't apologize very often.

"'s fine." She replied gruffly. "How long have we been sleeping for?"

He checked the watch built into his robot arm. "Twelve hours." He sounded just as surprised as Morgan.

"Seriously?" She sat up on her knees, ignoring how sore they were. "It's a miracle we haven't been caught!"

"I say we get going. Don't want to push our luck."

Morgan nodded and stood with him.

"There has to be some way to contact the League." He mused as they left the safety of their supply closet, checking to make sure they were alone first.

"I think I saw a control panel of some sort on our way here. Maybe it could be used?"

"It's worth a try."

Kind of a scattered chapter, but I didn't want to drag the War World stuff out too much. Running and hiding can only be so exciting to read about for a specific amount of time.

My brother bought Assassins Creed III a week ago, and I've become absolutely obsessed. Connor/Ratonhnhaké:ton might actually be the most attractive, hot-ass piece of main character I've ever encountered in a game. I've got a small idea for a fic, but I'm not sure I'll do it. Yet.

As usual, thank you so much for your lovely reviews! I can't believe we've almost reached a thousand already! It looks like this story will surpass not only the lenght, but also the review count of Guidelines to Loving incognito Superhero. And I thought that story was going to be the highlight of my fanfiction career.

Keep going with your lovely reviews, and I'll keep updating ;)

Fun fact: Morgan and Dick got married really young, both only twenty years old, in the alternative future. In the middle of an alien invasion, not knowing when they'd die, they saw no reason to delay it. A 'life is short' kind of thing. Of course, it helped matters along that Morgan accidentally got pregnant at twenty years old.