The Bioship glided silently through the late evening sky, its sleek, alien form blending seamlessly with the stars above. Inside, the team was quiet, each member lost in their thoughts after the chaotic events in Smallville.
Bart, however, couldn't sit still, his foot tapping rapidly against the floor as he leaned over the console."So, does anyone else feel like today's been one of those 'weird but cool' kind of days? I mean, we stopped a money truck heist and managed to ruin dinner at the same time. Multitasking at its finest." Bart said with a grin
Nightwing didn't even look up from his tablet "Bart, not everything needs commentary."
Bart groaned with a mock-pouting look on his face "Fine, buzzkill. I'll just enjoy the ride."
Aqualad calmly sighed "Perhaps some silence would be a welcome change."
The Bioship's console suddenly lit up with an urgent warning. Something was approaching them at fantastic speeds. And they were about to have a collison.
"Something just entered the atmosphere—fast. Bioship says it's heading right for us!" Miss Martian cried as she gripped the controls of the Bioship with all her might "Brace yourselves!"
The escape pod, glowing red-hot from reentry, hurtled past the Bioship, grazing its side and sending a loud clang reverberating through the cabin. Miss Martian steadied the ship, quickly angling it to pursue the object as it plummeted toward a dense forest below.
Nightwing looked on with a look that would impress Batman "Whatever that is, it almost took us out. We need to secure it before it causes more damage…or worse."
Aqualad nodded "Agreed. Prepare for deployment."
The team landed the Bioship in a clearing near the crash site, which was now in a small forest at the bottom of a small mountain. The air was thick with smoke that stabbed the lungs and the faint scent of burning metal made Nightwing think that someone was welding metal at point blank range.
The escape pod lay half-buried in the earth, its exterior scorched but still intact. Steam hissed from its seams, and faint thudding sounds came from inside, growing louder and louder and louder by the second alongside some incomprehensible screams.
Artemis took out her bow and withdrew an arrow "Whatever's in there, it's trying to get out. Anyone else getting a bad feeling about this?"
Superboy raised a hand as he stepped forward "I'll handle it."
Before he could reach the pod, its hatch blew off with a deafening boom, sending debris flying. From the smoke emerged a figure tall, with glowing green eyes and a wild mane of fiery red hair. Her orange skin shimmered in the moonlight, and her fists crackled with bright green energy.
The figure let out a guttural growl, her movements erratic as she scanned the group with a mix of confusion and hostility.
"Stay back! I will not be caged again!" It screamed in its native tongue.
She lunged, hurling a blast of green energy toward Superboy. He barely managed to dodge, the explosion sending dirt, wood, rocks and debris flying.
Nightwing leapt up dodging the debris shouting "She's hostile! Non-lethal only—contain her!"
Bart zipping around her confused "Non-lethal? Got it! But uh, she doesn't seem to be on the same page!"
She swung wildly, her energy blasts barely missing Bart as he zipped around her. Aqualad summoned water constructs to shield the team, but with an inhuman scream she smashed through them with raw power, her movements fueled by desperation.
Miss Martian stood back telepathically reaching out to the team "Her mind... it's chaotic. She's scared, confused... and angry…I can't reach her! I never even studied Tamarian…I think that is what it's called..."
Artemis made a face as she drew her bow "Then we'll have to do this the hard way."
She loosed an arrow, aiming for its shoulder, but the alien warrior caught it mid-flight, crushing it in her hand before retaliating with another blast which missed Aremis by a paper thin margin. The team scattered, trying to subdue her without causing harm.
Nightwing watched the alien's movements carefully, his analytical mind working overtime. He reached into his utility belt. Smoke bombs? How would that help? Stun grenades? If that thing had so much as 10% of the invulnerability as Conner it would do nothing. The old knockout technique? Not going to happen. The dart...
Nightwing blinked rapidly for a second then he pulled out a tranquilizer dart loaded into a small handheld launcher.
Nightwing mumbled more to himself "Let's hope this works."
He darted forward, using the smoke and debris for cover. The alien spotted him at the last second, her glowing eyes locking onto his. She flew up in the air as she raised her hand to fire, but Nightwing was faster as he rolled beneath her attack, coming up just behind her.
"Sorry about this."
He fired the dart, the small projectile embedding itself in her shoulder. The alien warrior staggered, her energy blasts faltering as the tranquilizer took effect. She swayed on her feet in the air before collapsing forward.
Nightwing caught her just in time, cradling her unconscious form in his arms.
The team gathered around, catching their breath. Bart, naturally, was the first to speak.
Bart made a teasing grin "Wow, Nightwing. Didn't know you were such a smooth operator. Catching her like that? Classic romantic hero move..."
Nightwing glancing down at the alien warrior, exasperated while it was true that the alien did look kind of pretty, the last thing on his mind was romance. "Bart." He said, stone faced "Not the time."
Bart nudged Artemis as if he was some kind of elementary school student laughing at some inside joke "I'm just saying, looks like our boy's got himself a girlfriend."
Artemis smirked "He isn't wrong. That was, I must say, pretty dramatic."
Nightwing fired daggers at Bart and Artemis as they continued to laugh at him "Can we focus, please? She almost fried us all."
Miss Martian knelt beside Nightwing, scanning the alien with a faint glow from her hands.
"She's stable, but we need to get her back to base. She's not from Earth—and judging by her condition, she's been through a lot."
"What was that place you said…Tama…whats the name?"
"Tameran" Miss Martian said calmly "I don't know much of the place but I do know what most of their kind look like." She said as she looked down at the unconscious alien "And I think that she isn't here to sightsee."
Nightwing gently adjusted the alien girl in his arms, her unconscious form surprisingly heavy. He glanced at the others.
"Let's move. We'll figure out who she is—and what she's doing here—once we're back at HQ."
As the team loaded back into the Bioship, Bart continued to snicker, much to Nightwing's annoyance. The ship lifted off, and flew off into darkness.
The room was dimly lit, bathed in hues of deep purple, dark gold and black. The faint hum of alien machinery filled the air, the walls lined with intricate metallic carvings that pulsed faintly with an eerie light. A lone figure sat at the center of the room, shrouded in shadows, her hand was tapping a large desk that had too many drawers, too many decorations and too many ornaments. The faint glow from a small row of holographic consoles casted a silhouette, a regal, commanding presence cloaked in darkness.
The figure's long, clawed fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest of her throne-like leather chair. Her glowing, cat-like eyes pierced the shadows, the only visible feature on her face. The stillness of the room was shattered by the shrill sound of an incoming communication.
A holographic projection flickered to life in front of her, revealing Xaridian, his face pale and drenched in sweat. He was bruised, his armor dented, and his voice shook as he stammered his report.
"M-my lady, I... I regret to inform you that... the prisoner has escaped."
The figure leaned forward slightly, her glowing eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. The air seemed to grow colder as her voice, calm but laced with menace, echoed through the room.
"My sister... escaped? From you?" She rasped
"We…we did everything I could! The ship was secure, the guards—"
"The guards are irrelevant. You failed, Xaridian."
"But…But I don't even work for you! I am just a contractor!"
"And your contact says to not fail me!"
Xaridian winced, his knees visibly trembling in the holographic projection. He opened his mouth to plead further, but the figure raised a hand, silencing him.
"Where. Is. She. Now?"
"We... we tracked her pod to a small planet. Primitive, in a way…mostly water and vegetation...Earth."
The name seemed to trigger something in her. Her claws tightened against the armrest, her other hand scratched the desk leaving a large scratch mark, the metal from the armrest groaning under the pressure, the wood making an ugly sound that Xaridian covered his ears.
"Earth... Of course. How cliche…she would find her way there."
The figure stood abruptly, her movements fluid and commanding. Her form remained hidden in the shadows, Xaridian knew what she looked like and he would rather see her in shadows than see the look on her face, but her presence filled the room like a storm ready to break. She turned away from the hologram, her voice growing colder.
"Xaridian, you are fortunate that your incompetence amuses me and you are a contractor. Pray that the next time I hire the company you work for and you find yourself on one of their ships transporting something to me, you will not fail me again."
Xaridian nodded frantically, relief flickering across his face.
"Y-yes! I will—"
But the figure raised a hand "Enough. Leave me. Your payment would be transferred to you, less than half for the failure."
"We have already sent some people to go after her!"
"Goodbye."
The hologram flickered out, leaving the room in silence once more. The figure took a deep breath, her claws flexing as green energy sparked at her fingertips. Her rage, however controlled, was palpable. She turned to a darkened corner of the room, where a small communication device sat on a pedestal.
She tapped the device with a single claw, and it emitted a low, pulsing tone. After a moment, the device roared to life, revealing a gruff, gravelly voice on the other end.
"Well, well. Been a while since you called, sweetheart. What's the job?"
"There's a runaway. A Tamaranean…You know who I am talking about. I want her found. Alive. I want to kill her myself."
"Tamaranean, huh? They're tough. And I thought you would never ask. But isn't she well…"
"Her identity is none of your concern. I only care that she is brought back to me—quickly."
The voice on the other end laughed, low and sinister. "Alright, alright, no need to get testy. I'll find your little princess. But it'll cost you."
The figure laughed icily "You will be paid handsomely. I have already sent you a significant sum for you to stock up. Just make sure you succeed."
The voice on the other end laughed as a beeping sound was heard "Sweetheart, this is 10 times what I had in mind whenever I were to hunt down a Tamarian…and since when have I ever failed?"
The call ended with a sharp click, leaving the room in silence once more. The figure stood motionless, her claws tapping against the pedestal as she stared into the void. Finally, she turned, her glowing eyes burning brighter with a mixture of anger and satisfaction. She stepped back into the darkness though an unseen door, her voice a quiet growl that echoed through the room.
"You won't escape me, Koriand'r. Not this time."
The Bioship descended into the hidden entrance of Mount Justice, its sleek form gliding effortlessly into the underground hangar. The team was silent for a moment as the ship landed, the events of the night still fresh in their minds. The unconscious alien had been carefully moved to the medical wing upon arrival. Now, the rest of the team gathered in the central meeting area, the tension from their earlier battle slowly dissipating.
Bart, as usual, was the first to break the silence. "So... anyone else thinking we should recruit her? You know, if she doesn't try to fry us again?"
Nightwing raised an eyebrow "Recruit her? We don't even know her name, let alone if she's not a threat."
Bart shrugged "Details detail. She's strong, has awesome powers, and can apparently throw Superboy halfway across a forest. That's gotta count for something."
"She caught me off guard!" Conner cried indignantly
"If we fought for longer we might see how powerful she is!" Bart cried.
Aqualad sighed "Bart, do you even remember how many members we already have? I am beginning to lose track of some of our teammates myself. Hell, I even forgot about some people like Mist and Geo Force one time."
Bart leaned back in his chair, tapping his chin as if deep in thought.
"Sure sure. We've got a lot of people, but come on, wouldn't it be cool to have her on our side? Glowy green fists, super strength... I mean, she could really liven things up around here."
Miss Martian tilted her head "Alright Bart…Have it your way, lets say if she were to join and all that, let me ask you a question. If you were to choose, Bart, what kind of 'new member' would you want on the team?"
Bart's eyes lit up as if he had been waiting for someone to say that, and he sat forward eagerly.
"I am so glad that you have asked, M'gann! Okay, picture this…" He said dramatically "Either a brand-new magic user or a young Lantern. Hear me out…"
Artemis raised an eyebrow as he held up her hands with a smirk "A magic user? You mean like Zatanna? We already have one of those."
Bart waved his arms in dismissal "Yeah yeah yeah. Zatanna is cool and all that I am not saying she isn't bad or anything like that. But Zatanna's busy with all her Justice League stuff. I'm talking about someone younger, closer to our age, you know? Mid to late teens up to like say late 20's tops. Someone we could actually help train. Plus, magic is just... cool! It's flashy, it's unpredictable, and it'd make my pranks way more interesting."
Conner crossed his arms "And the Lantern? Why do you want one of those? I mean they are not exactly handing them out on the corner street."
Bart leaned forward, his grin widening as he tapped his temple.
"Think about it!" Bart said with a wide grin "We've had everything else, speedsters like me, magic users, people who can manipulate stuff from rocks, air, water hell even turning into animals…" Bart said as he started to count off all the various hero types they had throughout the years "...Atlanteans, Amazons, aliens, super-soldiers, 'ordinary people who are well-trained'..." He said as he looked at Artemis and Nightwing. "But a Lantern? We don't have one of those yet. It's the missing piece. Plus, imagine the possibilities! Green…blue…whatever colour constructs, space missions, and—"
He paused dramatically, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"...pranks. Glowing constructs are perfect for pranking. Imagine someone walking into their room to find, I don't know, a glowing giraffe waiting for them. Or even..."
Aqualad glared at Bart with a deadpan expression "Because that is exactly what we need to focus on: your pranks."
Bart grinned "Hey, fun boosts morale. And admit it, a Lantern would be awesome."
Miss Martian folded her arms, a thoughtful look crossing her face.
"You know, Bart might have a point. We've worked with Lanterns before, but having one as a full-time team member could be interesting. It's a different kind of power, and it would bring a new dynamic to our missions."
Nightwing shrugged "Assuming we ever come across a young Lantern who needs a team. Right now, we've got more than enough to handle with our current roster—and with her."
He nodded toward the medical wing, where the alien was still unconscious.
Bart leaned back in his chair, looking around at the group with his trademark grin. "Alright, alright, I'll drop it—for now. But don't come crying to me when we miss out on having the coolest team roster in the universe."
Artemis rolled her eyes "Somehow, I think we'll manage."
Aqualad coughed "And until we know more about her..." He gestured toward the medical wing. "...perhaps we should focus on understanding the potential threat she poses before considering her as an ally."
Bart smiled as he mockingly saluted "Yes, sir, King Kaldur, sir."
The team groaned collectively as Bart laughed, but the tension in the room had eased. They weren't sure what to make of their mysterious new arrival, but one thing was certain. Things were about to get a lot more interesting.
The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was the only consistent sound in the hospital room. Thomas Stirling sat propped up on the stiff mattress, the thin hospital blanket crumpled at his waist. His fingers moved deftly over the game controller in his hands, the TV on the wall displaying the graphics of a JRPG.
His silver pen twirled between his fingers during every loading screen or moment of dialogue, its metallic sheen catching the artificial light of the room. It was an old pen, battered but still functional, its silver ink his favorite feature. He couldn't bring himself to part with it. It felt... lucky, even though luck seemed to have abandoned him long ago.
On the screen, the game's protagonist—a brave, confident high school student was giving a rousing speech to their companions, inspiring them to take on some demonic threat about destroying Japan with its collective unconscious or something... The party members nodded in unison, their loyalty unwavering. They had each other, a clear goal, and strength born of their bond.
Thomas's lips twisted into a bitter smile as he pressed a button, advancing the dialogue.
"Must be nice," he thought, his fingers moving automatically over the controller. "Having people who believe in you. A purpose. A goal. Being a hero. Something more than... this."
His gaze flicked to the IV drip attached to his arm, the slow drip-drip-drip mocking him with its regularity. He shook his head, returning his attention to the screen as the game transitioned to a battle. He button-mashed through the fight, his mind elsewhere.
"They make it look so easy. One speech, one heroic action, and everyone's ready to follow them into the jaws of hell. Meanwhile, here I am, stuck in this stupid room, barely able to get anyone save for Mom, Dad, Uncle John and a few freinds to even visit me."
He twirled the silver pen faster, the motion almost hypnotic.
"I don't even need a whole party," he thought, biting the inside of his cheek. "Just one person. Someone who really gets it. Someone who doesn't look at me like I'm pathetic or broken. But no, I can't even have that. Everyone who comes treats me as if I am going to blow up and..."
Thomas's hands tightened on the controller, almost breaking it had he had the strength to do so, his movements becoming erratic as his character missed an attack from the boss. The enemies on the screen retaliated, landing critical hits that left the protagonist staggering as he prepared his next move.
"Figures," he thought darkly, his jaw clenching. "Even in a stupid game, I'm losing. Why does everyone else get to have it so easy? Why does everyone else get to be strong, to be special, to be... seen?"
The pen stilled in his hand, his knuckles whitening as his grip tightened.
"I'm stuck here, while people out there get to live. They get to have friends, families, lives that actually matter. And what do I have? A pen, a diary, some books and a game I'm not that good at."
The game flashed "Game Over" in bold red letters across the screen. Thomas dropped the controller onto the bed, staring at the message. The music looped softly, adding to the stillness of the room.
His fingers resumed twirling the pen, the repetitive motion grounding him. He leaned his head back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling.
"It's not fair. It's never been fair. But what am I supposed to do about it? Nothing's going to change. Not for me. I am never going to make a mark on this world. Ever. I am just going to be another sob story someone has to get something."
He closed his eyes, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. The beeping of the monitor and the faint hum of the hospital intercom faded into the background as his mind raced, spinning in a cycle of envy and frustration.
"If I had even half of what other people have... if I had their strength, their opportunities, their lives... I'd do so much more with it. I wouldn't waste it. I wouldn't take it for granted. But no, that's not how it works, is it? The people who don't deserve it get everything, and the rest of us are just... forgotten."
He opened his eyes, staring at the pen in his hand. Its silver sheen seemed to gleam brighter for a moment, catching the light in a way that felt almost deliberate. Thomas's grip on it loosened, his thumb brushing over the engraved surface.
"Maybe I'm not meant to have what they have. But I'm still here. For now...But how much longer do I have to be here..."
His eyes flicked back to the screen, where the game's menu hovered over the "Continue" option. With a quiet sigh, he picked up the controller and selected it. The protagonist's health was restored, the battle reset.
"If I'm stuck here, I might as well keep fighting. Even if it's just in a stupid game."
Thomas leaned forward, his focus returning to the screen. The pen rested in his lap, its silver ink waiting patiently for the moment he'd pick it up again.
The dim, sterile lighting of the Young Justice medical wing hummed faintly, casting soft reflections on the polished steel equipment and pristine white walls. Monitors beeped rhythmically, displaying her vital signs as she lay on the medical bed, her fiery red hair spilling across the pillow like a cascade of flame.
A faint green glow pulsed from her fingertips, her body subconsciously channeling her energy even in unconsciousness.
Nightwing stood at the edge of the room, arms crossed but relaxed, his gaze fixed on her. His mask hid most of his expression, but the tension in his stance betrayed his unease.
Miss Martian had assured him she'd stabilized the alien and that the multi-translator she'd attached to him and to her would allow for some clear communication, but Nightwing wasn't entirely sure how this meeting would go.
He inhaled deeply, centering himself, just as it stirred.
Her eyes snapped open, glowing an intense, unearthly green. She shot upright in the bed with a strength and urgency that startled Nightwing. Her breathing was rapid, her hands sparking with energy as she scanned the unfamiliar room. Her gaze locked on Nightwing, and she raised a glowing fist, ready to strike.
"Where am I? Who are you? Answer me before I destroy this place!" She rasped in her native tongue
Nightwing raised his hands slowly, his voice calm "Easy. You're safe here. No one's going to hurt you."
Her eyes narrowed, her glowing fist intensifying as she slid off the bed, her stance defensive. Nightwing held his ground, careful not to make any sudden movements.
"You think I will believe the words of another captor? I will not be caged again!"
As she stepped closer, her glowing fist still raised, Miss Martian's translator in her ear activated with a faint beep. Starfire flinched, one hand instinctively reaching toward it. Her eyes flickered with confusion as she realized she could suddenly understand Nightwing's words.
Nightwing opened his arms to show he didn't have anything on him as he continued speaking calmly "We are not your enemies. You escaped from whoever was holding you. We found you in an escape pod and brought you here to help. That's all."
She blinked rapidly, her breathing slowing slightly. She lowered her fist but didn't let her guard down entirely.
"I... understand you now. How?"
Nightwing smiled slightly "Our friend attached a translator to your ear. We needed to make sure we could communicate. You've been through a lot—we just want to help."
Her stance relaxed just a fraction, but suspicion still lingered in her glowing eyes."Why? Why would you help me? You do not know me. I have nothing to offer you."
Nightwing took a cautious step closer, his hands still raised in a gesture of peace.
Nightwing said calmly with a small smile "Because that's what we do. You looked like you were in trouble, and we don't turn our backs on someone who needs help. Whatever you've been through, it's over now. You're safe here."
Her gaze softened, her glowing fists dimming as she considered his words. For the first time, her shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of her exhaustion catching up to her. She glanced around the room, taking in the strange but non-threatening surroundings.
"I... do not know what 'safe' feels like anymore. It has been so long."
Nightwing made a face as he tried to speak to her "I can't imagine what you've been through, but you don't have to go through it alone anymore. My name's Nightwing. What's yours?"
She hesitated, her eyes briefly flickering with hesitation, but then she stood a little taller, her voice steady despite her obvious weariness.
"Koriand'r. But... I would like it if you would call me Starfire."
Nightwing nodded "Nice to meet you, Starfire. You're among friends now."
She took a deep breath, the green glow in her eyes fading as her body relaxed slightly. Her gaze lingered on Nightwing, her expression still guarded but no longer hostile.
"Thank you... Nightwing. But if this is a trick—"
Nightwing raised a hand interrupting her with a small smile "It's not. You'll see."
Starfire studied him for another long moment before nodding. Her exhaustion caught up with her, and she swayed slightly. Nightwing stepped forward instinctively, catching her arm to steady her. She looked at him, her eyes wide with surprise.
"You... are very kind. I hope your words are true." Starfire said with a smile
Nightwing gently nodded "They are. Get some rest. We'll talk more when you're ready."
From the observation room above, Miss Martian, Superboy, Bart, and Artemis watched the exchange. Bart leaned closer to the glass, grinning.
Bart made as face "Look at him, Mr. Smooth. I give it a week before he's smitten and his pelvis is shattered by..."
Artemis rolled her eyes as she interrupted him "Can you not, Bart? She just woke up from who knows what kind of nightmare."
Miss Martian smiled "Give them time. She's been through a lot, but I think she'll find her place here."
Conner smiled to "Let's just hope she doesn't burn the place down first."
They all watched as Nightwing guided Starfire back to the bed, his calm voice continuing to reassure her. Slowly but surely, the tension in her posture began to melt away. The team exchanged glances, the weight of what was to come hanging in the air.