Batman: Dark Side
By:
C.W. Blaine ([email protected])
Batman
and all other related characters are copyright © 2001 by DC Comics Inc. and are
used herein without permission for non-profit, fan-fiction entertainment
purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.
Darth
Maul and related characters are copyright ©2001 by LucasFilm Ltd. And are used
herein without permission for non-profit, fan-fiction entertainment purposes
only. No copyright infringement is intended.
This
original piece of fiction is copyright © 2001 by C.W. Blaine. All comments and
questions should be directed to the e-mail address above.
JLA
Watchtower, Earth, Present Day:
"We are going to get into major trouble, you know that?" Booster Gold asked Blue Beetle. It had been the seventh time he had asked the question in the past thirty minutes.
The
Blue Beetle smiled, his eyes glistening from behind his mask's yellow goggles.
Plastic Man had invited them to the Watchtower, for a game of poker that would
include not only themselves, but also reserve members Guy Gardner and Captain
Marvel. Both Booster Gold and Blue Beetle were hoping to cash in big on the
naïve Captain Marvel.
While
waiting for the others to arrive, the two heroes had excused themselves to
wander about. As reserve members, they weren't given exclusive rights to come
to the Watchtower, but they also were entitled to certain privileges once they
got there. Ted Kord, the industrialist-sans-genius behind the mask of Blue Beetle
had been waiting months to get into the JLA workshop once occupied by former
member Steel. Steel was known throughout the super-hero community as a
"mad-tinkerer", always working on something big and technical. Kord was hoping
to find something useful.
"Mike!"
Blue Beetle called to his partner. "Come here, take a look!"
Booster
looked to the ceiling and sighed. Any minute now, an active member like
Superman or Aquaman was going to come in, pick them up by the back of their
necks and toss them into teleporters to send them home. Worse, they would be
penniless.
Well,
Booster would be; Ted was a millionaire who seemed to be able to make money
just when he needed it.
"What
is it?" Booster asked as he came around to view the device. It seemed to be a large-scale
teleporter.
"I
don't know!" Blue Beetle exclaimed, rubbing his hands together with glee.
Booster knew that tone in his voice.
"Please,
Ted, let's just leave. The cards await my friend."
Blue
Beetle waved him off and approached a computer terminal attached to the
console. "It's Russian!"
"I
can't read Russian and neither can you. Let's go."
"I
think this is a light speed velocity indicator; the kind S.T.A.R. Labs uses
when they test the Flash's powers." Blue Beetle moved over to a control cabinet
and pulled open a drawer. There were circuit boards mounted on the inside. He
reached for one.
"Ted!"
Booster exclaimed.
Blue
Beetle pulled out the card and examined it. "Man! Look at this! Oh, lordy! This
is top-of-the-line WayneTech stuff!"
From
the hallway outside, they heard two people speaking. The baritone voice of
Superman made them stop in their tracks. Booster mouthed a warning to Blue
Beetle, who quickly jammed the board back in, not checking to see if he had
actually installed it correctly and slammed the drawer shut.
Superman,
followed by Green Lantern came walking in. "What are you two doing in here?"
Superman asked, arms crossed over the large "S" on his chest.
Both
heroes looked down at the floor. "Nothin'," they both said together.
"You
losers get out of here," Green Lantern added, using his power ring to conjure
up a blinking green exit sign next to the door.
"You're
the loser, you Hal Jordan wanna-be," Booster quipped as he exited. Superman and
Green Lantern stepped into the passageway after him, with Blue Beetle bringing
up the rear.
"Get
the lights, Ted," Superman said, as he began to escort Booster towards a
waiting teleporter. Green Lantern stood at the ready to receive Blue Beetle.
Without
looking, Blue Beetle smacked a wall switch and stepped out. Green Lantern
smirked. "You guys don't belong here."
"Your
team sucks," came the reply as they began the walk towards the teleporter.
"No,
you team sucked! That's why it's not a team anymore, loser."
Blue
Beetle stopped and turned to face the younger man. "Hey, Lantern, my fly is
unzipped."
Reflexively,
Green Lantern's eyes went down to where a zipper should have been on Blue
Beetle's costume. Immediately, he knew he had been suckered.
"Hell,
we took on Doomsday, sorry little whiny-butt," Blue Beetle commented as a
red-faced Green Lantern began their trek again.
Unseen
to the eyes of the departing heroes, the machine that had been the subject of
study only minutes before, began to hum as electricity poured into it after an inattentive
Blue Beetle had accidentally pressed its activation switch. As the internal
computer began to run a self-diagnostic, a small spark erupted from the control
board that had been placed back incorrectly.
Hidden apartment of Darth Sidious, Coruscant, a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away:
Darth Maul sat perfectly still, drawing the Force in and allowing it to penetrate his very soul. He had recently returned from a mission where he had utterly destroyed the leadership of the intergalactic criminal organization Black Sun. His master, Darth Sidious, was away, carefully inspecting every facet of his master plan to bring the Sith back to power.
Centuries before, the Sith had been a powerful force, a family, in a strange way, that nearly was able to conquer the galaxy. The Republic, though, with it's self-righteous Jedi Knights, had managed to beat the Sith back. For a millennia, the Sith had waited, the traditions of the ancient order being passed from master to apprentice. Darth Maul smiled at the word "apprentice". It meant one with the skill to become a master of the Dark Side. The Jedi used the term "padawan learner"; like a nagdog that has to be trained to relieve itself on the flimsyplast.
His hatred of the Jedi knew no bounds, for they were the ones that deprived his order its rightful place in the hierarchy of the galaxy. The Sith were meant to be the rulers, for they knew what it took to keep the masses under control. The Jedi preached patience and virtue, pacifistic ideals that generally allowed weaker beings to kill the Jedi. The Sith took their power from the hottest embers of emotion they could muster: lust, anger and jealousy. These are what powered a Sith Lord when he went into battle.
And like his brethren before him, Darth maul was indeed a Sith Lord.
Maul
stood up and cast his cloak aside. His body, adorned with red and black
tattoos, along with the horny projections on his skull, gave him the appearance
of a devil of so many legends. He used the Force to call his double-bladed light
saber to him. With a snap-hiss, a scarlet blade emanated from each end of the
hilt, giving the impression of a battle-stave. The weapon was modeled after the
personal lightsaber of the famed Sith Lord, Exar Kunn, and Maul took great
satisfaction in knowing he was carrying out the traditions that Kunn had
honored.
A
mental command, and his trio of small, round spy druids came floating to him.
It was impossible for Maul to go outside during the day, even though many of
Coruscant's lower levels hadn't seen the sun in thousands of years. The planet
was one large city; every single centimeter of land had been built upon and
then built up upon. The only exception was the frozen poles, and maul was not
about to live there. It was beneath his station as a Sith Lord.
His
master called him impatient at times, but said that was merely a sign of
youthful vigor. Maul desperately wanted to simply hop onto a shuttle and fly
over to the Jedi Temple. He was more than confident that he could kill very
single last Jedi. He swung his lightsaber in spinning arcs before him as he
imagined Jedi padawans running from him, clearing the way for the "Jedi
Masters". Oh, how he longed to lock blades with the likes of Mace Windu and
Ki-Adi-Mundi!
Still,
his master was intent on keeping them hidden for the time being as he slowly
manipulated events. "Why take on a whole army when you can convince someone
else's army to do it for you?" his master would tell him. The spinning
lightsaber nearly clipped one of the three remote druids. The exercise was
simple: try hitting the druids with the weapon, while using the Force to push
them out of the way. Because the druids were mechanicals, they were blank spots
in the Force, so Maul had to concentrate on the small microbes and mites that
were around the druids in order to know their exact location. The druids would
push the living creatures out of the way as they moved through the air,
creating a path of sorts that Maul could "see" through the Force.
One
of the druids got behind him and powered up its small laser to strike him. The
energy would not nearly be enough to kill him, but it would dig into the skin
and burn a small hole in his muscle and tissue. Maul sensed the death of
several bacterium as they were burned by the powering laser and kicked a foot
out behind him as he brought the lower part of his lightsaber up to slash at a
probe at his ear. Concentrating, he used the Force to push both probes out of
the way before either his weapon or his foot could connect. The third droid
sensed he was open and moved in to strike, singling out his left eye. Maul
moved just in time as the laser glanced off the side of his face.
The
wound cauterized instantly and pain shot through the Sith Lord's body. His
anger grew into a white-hot curtain and he summoned the Dark Side to him. He
felt it feed his anger; just a fuel is fed to a hyperdrive. Suddenly, his
perceptions changed and he saw the world truly through the Dark Side. Spinning
the lightsaber in one hand, he slashed out at the droid that had attempted to
shoot him in the back. The energy beam sliced immediately through the small
metallic body. As it exploded, Maul spun the lightsaber down and into an arc.
Gathering the Force to him, he back flipped over his own arc, landing and
bringing the weapon up and through a second droid.
The
last droid's preservation programming kicked in. It was a formidable set of
instructions, written by Darth Maul himself. Inside the delicate circuitry of
the floating droid, instructions were sent to small transformers that stepped
up the power of the main laser.
Maul
sneered, yellow, jagged teeth glistening in the dim light of the apartment. A
flick of his thumb and the lightsaber extinguished as the droid moved in for
the kill. The programming Maul had added to its functions allowed it to
thermally scan an opponent and find the portions of the body where the greatest
heat was generated. Normally, this would indicate vital organs, such as a
heart. Had he been a hapless opponent, perhaps even an accursed Jedi Knight, he
would be in great mortal danger, but the Dark Side was his ally and as the
droid zipped in on its repulsors to shoot him, Maul brought a black gloved fist
up and the droid stopped in midair, caught in the Force.
Maul
opened his fingers and then suddenly closed them again and the droid exploded.
Maul inhaled the smoke from the droid's demise, relishing in his victory. He
would have to program new druids and clean up the mess before his master
returned.
Drenched
in sweat, he considered stepping into the refresher to take a shower, but the
smoke from his prey clung to him and mixed with his own perspiration, and he
decided that he enjoyed the smell. He briefly wondered, as he picked up tunic
and put it on, if he would be able to smell the dead Jedi mixed with how own
odor once he and his master revealed themselves. The thought of finding out
made his pulse quicken.
Clad
in the robes of his order, his lightsaber hung at his belt, Darth Maul began to
step out towards the balcony. The artificial lighting outside was being dimmed,
to simulate actual nightfall, and it would be safe for him to step out. He had
nothing to fear except discovery. If his true nature were to be learned and
passed on to the Jedi, it would compromise his master's plan. Then he would have
to deal with Darth Sidious. Darth Maul knew he couldn't win that battle.
Yet.
One
day, he knew, he would be the master and he would take an apprentice just as
his master had. The problem was finding a worthy apprentice, someone that could
be trained and possessed the stability of mind and body to handle all of the
gifts the Dark Side had to offer. Many Jedi in the past had turned to the Dark
Side, becoming so-called Dark Jedi, but in the end, they were consumed by the
Force energies they could not comprehend. Only through Sith training could one
learn to harness the real power of the Force. Only a real Sith Lord could
command the Dark Side.
Maul
knew that he would have to soon seek out an apprentice, for it could take years
to train one from childhood to adult. If he could find an adult with the proper
mindset…
The
Jedi were fearful of training anyone over a certain age, afraid that the fears
they had learned as children would compromise their training, leading them to
Dark Side. Maul scoffed at the idea. The Jedi were fools, wasting time with
curriculums and councils and debates. Age did not matter; potential and
willingness did.
Darth
Maul was considering going in to dictate his latest philosophy, it was a Sith
tradition that every Dark Lord write about their beliefs for others to learn
from, when he felt a disturbance in the Force. His hand went slowly down to his
lightsaber. The disturbance wasn't something he had felt before, though it was
similar to going into hyperspace. Force-sensitive individuals were able to feel
a change in the Force as they moved past lightspeed. Maul turned to see a
morphing glob of reality twisting before him, as if a stone was disrupting a
sheet of water. Was it a new Jedi weapon? Were they here to kill his master?
Darth
Maul smiled and reached out with the Force. He felt something coming from the
rippling effect, but he couldn't place it. A Sith Lord did not know fear, they
inspired it. Casting aside all caution, the Sith Lord stepped up to, then in
the ripple, determined to find out what exactly it was.
The Batcave, beneath Wayne Manor, outskirts of Gotham City, United States of America, present day:
The
bag was assailed by a flurry of blows from Kevlar lined gloves and boots. Each
blow would send it skirting away, held from flying across the room by a single
tether hooked somewhere up in the dark corners of the ceiling. Momentum would
carry it back to its attacker, who increased the frequency of the punches and
kicks. The Batman was only beginning to work up a sweat.
He
was trying to adjust his workout routine, basing his new regiment on advice he
had received from Connor Hawke, the son of the original Green Arrow, Oliver
Queen. Hawke was probably one of maybe five people in the world that could
possible defeat the Batman in non-super-powered hand-to-hand combat. The
younger man had trained for years in the martial arts at a monastery that Queen
had visited on occasion without knowing that one of its members was actually
his son. Hawke's simple way of looking at life, the inner peace he had achieved
through meditation and study had given him an edge in combat that few could
muster.
Batman
had to push down and control his anger whenever he was in combat; he had to
simulate peace of mind. He had become very adept over the years at fooling
himself. Deep inside of him, probably trapped in the double helix of his DNA,
lurked a monster that was always trying to free itself from the disciplined
control he had maintained for years over his emotions. Most of the time, it was
easy; then sometimes it wasn't. It was hardest when he thought of that night so
many years ago when a coward armed with a gun shot and killed his parents
before his eight-year-old eyes. It was at times like that he could hear the
howl of the beast in the back of his mind, the hot flashes of anger that
clouded his vision on served to increase the effect.
At
those times, the emotions he had felt that night threatened to overwhelm his
judgment. He would feel the overwhelming desire to destroy, to rip apart the
killer's body, to kick him until his soul bled.
Batman
shook his head and saw that he had managed to thoroughly destroy the bag; it's
stuffing laid about the floor. His knuckles hurt and he was sure that he had
rubbed the skin off of them under the "protection" of his gloves. The
breathable material of his costumes was soaked in sweat and he pushed back his
cowl to allow the cool, damp air of the cave aid in restoring him to a more
comfortable temperature. Connor had suggested that he do all of his workouts in
complete costume, since that is what he chose to do his "work" in.
From
the smell of his costume, he decided that it had been a bad idea. If he were
going to do this, he would have to invest in twice as many costumes. It wasn't
that he couldn't afford it, for the face of the Batman, the man beneath the
mask, belonged to billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne. No, his problem was that it
was a waste of money. The money spent on new costumes just for workouts could
be better put towards more noble goals, such as Dr. Leslie Thompkins free
clinic in Gotham City, or maybe go towards AIDS research. While he admitted he
enjoyed being rich on some level, he did not like the idea of people less
fortunate because of circumstance being denied those things others took for granted.
His
accountant thought he did it just for the tax write-off. As he grabbed a bottle
of water from the small refrigerator next to the main computer, he reminded
himself that it was getting late in the year and that he hadn't seen the latest
reports from WayneTech on its tax-deductible contributions. Normally, the
company CEO Lucious Fox would handle it, but he had been very busy the past
year and the Batman decided that Bruce Wayne might have to step in and make
sure the right contributions were made on time. Some charities were so
dependant upon his company's money that they would shut down without it. He
couldn't allow that.
He
also made a note to contact his former partner, Nightwing, also secretly Bruce
Wayne's adoptive son Richard Grayson. Richard, though he held down a "normal"
job as a police officer in the city of Bludhaven, was also independently
wealthy from investments made with his deceased parent's life insurance
policies. Richard had his own charities he liked to donate to. They were opposite
in so many ways. Bruce would tithe to the local Methodist Church, Richard would
give to the local Buddhist Temple, explaining that nobody seemed to give them
anything and it wasn't right. Bruce would give to the local Right-To-Life
group; Richard would hand over a check to a Pro-Choice organization. He was a
Republican against the death penalty; Richard was a Democrat in favor of it.
Still,
he was his "son", his apprentice for lack of a better word. They both agreed
that the defenseless needed to be protected, that justice had to be served out
judiciously in order to maintain order in society. They had slightly different
methods, but they had the exact same goal. The respect between the two was
unshakable.
The
Batman was about to send an e-mail to Richard when the computer alarm for an
incoming JLA message went off. Batman pulled his cowl back up, knowing that
tonight was Plastic Man's planned poker game and not all of the reserve members
knew who he was, and used his mouse to click the "receive" button.
The
monitor instantly flashed up the image of a battered and bruised Superman.
"Batman, is that you?"
Batman
could see a small fire burning behind the Man of Steel. The flames were
covering a broken piece of furniture. Considering who was going to be playing
poker, that wouldn't be such a surprise. The bloody and split lip being sported
by Superman was. "What happened?"
"We
were attacked," Superman began. Batman thought he saw the familiar yellow boot
of Captain Marvel laying just on the edge of the camera's view. "Marvel and
Kyle are down, Goy and Plastic Man are working on putting out the fires…"
"Who
did it?"
Superman
shook his head. "I don't know. He just appeared in the doorway of the meeting
room, caught us totally off guard. He didn't even set off the intruder alarms.
At first, I thought it might be you in some ridiculous disguise…"
That
took him by surprise. "Why me?"
"The
way he fought. He was armed with some sort of energy staff that cut through
just about everything. It couldn't penetrate my skin, so he attacked me with
telekinetic powers. He did something to Kyle, almost seemed like he took over
his mind. He's in a bad way. We've asked Mr. Terrific and Dr. Mid-Nite from the
JSA to get up here."
"A
telekinetic? Could it be a white Martian?" Batman asked. White Martians were
able to assume various forms and had demonstrated telepathic abilities in the
past. Current JLA member Martian Manhunter was a green Martian. No Martians, to
the Batman's knowledge, had ever shown to be telekinetic. "Have you contacted
J'onn?" Batman questioned, referring to the Martian Manhunter.
"No,
you were the first person I contacted after getting medical help coming."
"Why
me?"
Superman
took in a deep breath and wiped the blood from his lip. "Because he left here
in the teleporter that leads to Gotham City."
East Side of Gotham City, present day:
He
found himself hungry, for the first time in a long time. Normally, he ate at
regular times, since his routines were perfectly planned out to give him
maximum efficiency. The battle he had fought earlier, however, had taxed him
more than what he had thought. It hadn't been a fight he could enjoy, though.
The
humans he encountered were strong in the Force, especially the two with the
capes. Their clothing was strange, but no stranger than some of the outfits a
Hutt would dress their slaves in. He had sensed that while the Force flowed
through these beings, it manifested itself differently than what it did in
himself. The one thing that was abundantly clear was that the Dark Side was
barely present in any of them, and the two with the capes radiated so much of
the Light Side it almost hurt. What surprised him most was when he was able to
land a clear killing strike with his lightsaber on the human in the red and blue
and the blade wouldn't pierce the skin.
It
was amazing, but not without precedent. There were tales of the Sith that
talked about creatures outside the known galaxy that could resist a
lightsaber's blade, and some that were even immune to the Force. While this
place did not have the same "taste", it still flowed with the Force. He looked
up into the night sky at unfamiliar stars. Not one constellation was familiar
and he assumed that he had stepped through a hyperspace conduit. Probably some
rogue scientist's experiment gone awry.
Retreat
was never the way of the Sith, but he had no idea where he was at and the
language being spoken was beyond him. He managed to tap into the mind of the
one who wielded the ring. That would have been a formidable weapon and Maul
made a silent vow to retrieve the object to present to his master. However, the
ring-wielder had a strong will and Maul had to end the contact with lethal
force. Perhaps the human would live; it was possible if he had a strong mind.
The
blue-and-red garbed one seemed to be the leader, and Maul guessed that the
strange symbol on his chest was an indication of authority. He reasoned that if
he were to obtain a similar symbol, perhaps he would be able to mingle better
among the humans of this world.
But
there was another problem. All he saw were humans, everywhere, with the
exception of strange mammals that seemed to be interested in what was obviously
rubbish. A simple gesture with the Force sent them scurrying. They reminded
Maul of mynocks. There were also no
spaceports, and the humans transported themselves in archaic
internal-combustion engine vehicles. The air was polluted, almost as if they
had no atmosphere filtering droids working. Didn't they realize that they would
eventually deplete their planet of ozone? Were they trying to make it a world
suitable only for Hutts?
He
decided that the only way to find out was to absorb the memories of someone. It
was an ancient Sith discipline that was not without its drawbacks. Those
memories would forever be engraved into Maul's mind and the person whom he
stole them from would lose them forever. What of all of the humans of this
world were immune to his lightsaber? Would he have to resort to using on the
Force and his bare hands?
Darth
Maul smiled and thanked the spirits of his ancestors for providing him with the
opportunity to test himself to his limits before he and his master embarked on
their plans of conquest. Here was a world where his lightsaber was useless;
here he would have to put his Sith magiks and training to use without the
crutch of technology. Perhaps it was his master who had sent the portal in the
first place, knowing that Maul would never back down from it. Yes, he thought
to himself, this was a test!
Maul
opened the side compartment of his lightsaber and withdrew the power cell.
Gathering the Force to increase his strength, he crushed it. Now, no matter how
tempted he was to employ his weapon, he would be forced to use only the Force
and his own muscle. This was the true path of the Sith!
A
human, obviously drunken, snorted from under some primitive form of
flimsyplast. Maul could sense the Force coming from the man, but it was tainted
with something, as if there was a great sadness on the heart of the man. Maul
didn't care; it was obvious by his sleeping in the open he was a toss-off from
society. He would serve Maul's purposes adequately.
Police Headquarters rooftop, Gotham City, present day:
Nightwing
and Huntress eyed each other the way old lovers did when they would rather not
be near each other. Batman knew that, despite the major differences in their
personalities, the two were highly attracted to each other. Nightwing was here
because Batman did not want to take his newest partner, teenager Timothy Drake,
the newest Robin, into a battle with someone who tossed Superman around. The
Huntress was here because she had heard, somehow, what had happened. Batman
wanted to tell her to go home, but then he thought better of it. It would be
better to know exactly where she was in this situation.
"I've
gotten a complete report from Superman about our quarry. It's apparently a male
humanoid, species unknown…"
"It's
an alien?" Nightwing asked.
Batman
nodded. "Superman couldn't identify the species; I've got oracle working on it,
seeing if we can identify it. Whatever it is, it's highly trained in
hand-to-hand combat. It had no problem dealing with Guy Gardner. It also
appears to have telepathic and telekinetic abilities. It took out Green Lantern
and Captain Marvel, so it's dangerous."
"I'll
check the docks," Huntress said, turning to walk away. She cast a cold glance
at Nightwing.
"No,"
came Batman's reply. "You can check out the new industrial area."
"Excuse
me? I don't work for you…I'm here to help, not to take orders. I'm not in awe
of you like your boy wonder here."
He
didn't have time for this. If he didn't take care of this problem soon, it
could get out of hand. Gotham normally did not cater too well to super-powered
criminals. There wasn't enough money here, not like New York or Metropolis.
While he knew that most super-heroes respected his "hands-off" rule about
Gotham City, Superman was known to violate it once in awhile when he thought
Batman couldn't handle it. It was one thing to tell Booster Gold or the Flash
to stay out of Gotham City; it was another when Superman came by. He was the
"leader" of the super-hero community and they would follow his lead. So long as
he kept Superman out of his city, the others would stay away as well.
All
so-called super-heroes in Gotham City were required to get the blessing of the
Bat before being able to operate. If not, the Batman would simply use his
deductive abilities to discover their identity and blackmail them into
stopping. He didn't want someone getting carried away and killing someone.
Batman had a problem with killing, for any reason.
The
Huntress did not.
Whereas
Batman kept his inner demons in check, the Huntress did not make such an
effort. She had killed without remorse in the past, in the name of what she
called "justice". All of the threats in the world could not get her to back
off, and so Batman had once tried to "bribe" her by recommending her a place on
the JLA. He had hoped that being surrounded by heroes such as Superman and
Wonder Woman she would lose that desire to kill.
She
hadn't.
On
a mission, she had tried to kill the villain Prometheus, resulting in Batman
expelling her from the team. Since that time, their relationship was getting
more and more strained. He couldn't blackmail her, simply because she knew what
Nightwing looked like under his mask, the result of a romantic interlude that
still angered batman when he thought about it. It was hard to imagine anyone
living in Gotham City not recognizing the ward of playboy Bruce Wayne, but,
apparently, Helena Bertinelli, the beautiful woman under the Huntress's mask,
had not.
One
day she could.
"Today
you'll be taking orders or else you can go home," batman said with authority.
She
started to speak and she noticed that Nightwing shook his head slightly. She
huffed angrily and then headed to the corner of the building facing the area
Batman had directed her to. Throwing a line over to the next building, she was
gone. Nightwing looked to his mentor. "Why did you send her there?"
"There's
nothing there, so she'll be safe. This creature could have killed any one of
the JLA members it encountered, including Superman. It might only be reacting
to what it perceives as attacks upon its person. Without knowing the species,
we're going in blind."
Nightwing
rubbed the stubble forming on his chin. "How are we going to take this guy
out?"
Batman
shook his head. "I don't know, but I don't want it killed, so we keep the
Huntress as far away from him as possible. If they get into a fight, she can
always use the self-defense argument for killing it."
"Is
it that good, as far as combat?"
Batman
nodded, a slight smile on his face. "Yes."
Nightwing
wasn't sure if the smile on the Batman's face was good thing.
East Side of Gotham City, present day:
Scratching
his head, Darth Maul had to take a pause to consider the information he had
absorbed from the transient man. It was his own fault, Maul reflected, for
using a sub-standard specimen for the process. It was obvious that this man had
destroyed most of his memories with intoxicants and only the most remote of
intelligence lay within its primitive brain.
Maul
had managed to learn a few things about this place he had been sent to be
tested. The planet was called Earth and
it belonged to no known intergalactic government. There was no Republic, which
meant there were no Jedi Knights. However, this world was not alone. There were
others worlds known to exist in other parts of the galaxy, and each one had a
champion…someone strong in the Light Side of the Force. It was strange, the
images and jumbled stories that now resided in Maul's brain. He discovered that
the name of the human he had fought on the moon was Superman and that he was
not from this world. That made sense to Maul. There were others of his ilk
throughout this world; they were called "super-heroes" and "metahumans". All of
them represented the Light Side and they were in constant conflict with beings
called "super-villains" for control of this one world.
Maul
snorted at the idea. Whole armies of Force-adept beings battling for control of
one insignificant world?
There
was one other thing that seemed to be burned into the memories of the man and
that was the name of the protector of this city. He learned it was called
Gotham City; not an entirely vile name, though Maul preferred the name of the
next closest city: Bludhaven. This city was the domain of a Dark Knight, a
human called the Batman.
This
Batman, from what Maul could understand, was not like the other humans of this
world, yet he was not a so-called "metahuman" and few labeled him as a
"super-hero". He worked at night, coming from the shadows and had a veritable
army of apprentices that answered only to him. Even the local security forces
had to acknowledge his superiority.
The
sound of human voices caused maul to step back into the shadows. Observation of
the enemy was important when waging a war, and Maul knew that he was in a
battle for his honor. He reasoned that this was the final test of his
worthiness; perhaps it was an ancient Sith tradition that young Dark Lords be
placed into an alien environment where they had to rely on their own skills to
survive. Just as Darth Sidious had told him, "One does not rule by a
lightsaber, one must rule by their own skill. The lightsaber is for discipline;
the mind decides how much discipline is needed."
Maul
understood that his test was to take this city from its Dark Knight, to earn
the right to bear the chest emblem of the Batman. Emblems were the sign of
power on this world, just as Jedi padawans wore a braid to signify their
status. Once the Dark Knight was defeated, Maul would present the symbol, a
"bat", to his master as tribute and a sign of obedience. Perhaps then his
master would let him finally engage the hated Jedi!
The
voices became clearer and Maul, from his hidden viewpoint, saw it was a group
of five young human males. Maul smiled; no matter where in the galaxy you went,
the men of the human race always seemed to congregate into groups, packs if you
will, like wild hunter animals. He could sense their intentions, so strong were
their emotions in the Force. They had come to cause mayhem, to assault the
transient man known to sleep in this alley; a primitive way of establishing
dominance in their territory. Pathetic, maul thought to himself; without knowing
the Force and embracing the Dark Side, these humans were nothing but bacteria
in the scheme of things.
One
of the humans, obviously the leader and just slightly younger than Maul, kicked
the drunken man, who made only grunting sounds. Maul's processes had removed
the man's ability to speak; he was nothing more than a mobile bag of
intoxicated flesh. Since these humans were in need of a challenge, Maul decided
to give it to them.
He
stepped from the shadows, his hood up to cover his features. He knew his
appearance would strike fear in them and he wanted to save it for last. "Move
away from the man," Maul said in a deep, baritone voice. His accent made the
words sound not quite right.
"Who
the hell are you?" the leader asked, smirking. He gave the man on the ground
another kick while a member of his "pack" searched the man's pockets. "Look
what we have here, boys; seems we have a traveling monk or something! Hey, this
ain't the set of Kung Fu, buddy!"
Maul
took a defensive, yet passive stance, spreading his legs out to shoulder width.
For a moment, he desired to have his lightsaber in his hand and that stray
thought went out through the Force and he felt the hilt tremble slightly on his
belt. Maul took in a calming breath. "If you desire to hurt someone, why don't
you try hurting me?"
All
five began to laugh and the shortest of the group pointed at Maul. "He thinks
he's the Bat!"
One
of the other members of the group took a few steps toward the Sith Lord. "Hey,
'Batman', why don't you shove off before we have to put you down…permanently?"
the teenager asked, drawing a weapon from his back.
Maul
looked at the weapon; it was a primitive slug-thrower. A Sith Lord could
deflect blaster bolts with his hands and the Force; slug-throwers were even
less of a problem, if one was concentrating. He saw the other youths pull
similar looking weapons out and Maul could feel their arrogance and confidence
through the Force. As it was even where he had come from, youth brought about a
feeling of immortality. His master had accused him of the same thing at various
times.
There
was a huge difference between Maul's arrogance and the arrogance of these young
humans. Maul had the Force as an ally.
Maul
brought a hand up and waved it in front of the group and the Force reached out
and wrenched the weapons from the hands of his assailants. One fell to his
knees screaming and clutching a bleeding hand; his trigger finger had been lost
as well.
Before
any of the group could respond, Maul reached up and pulled back his hood. His
yellow eyes glowed in the streetlight. "Son of a bitch," the leader said
backing up. "It's the freakin' devil himself!"
One
of the other members of the gang, upon seeing Maul's visage, broke into a run
screaming the name "Jesus Christ". Maul threw his arm out, maintaining eye
contact with leader, and used the Force to home in on his fleeing prey. It felt
good to the Sith Lord to be using the Dark Side so openly again; he had become
too dependent upon his lightsaber over the past few years and he had forgotten
the joy one could feel by allowing their anger to take physical form.
Just
as the fleeing teenager made to the corner of the alley, the Force penetrated
his soft flesh, and like a cold hand, wrapped around his spinal cord. With the
merest of mental suggestions, Maul ripped the spine out of the escaping gang
member and sent it flying over the heads of his comrades. The body simply fell
forward from momentum and blood poured out into the street, coating it.
Calling
the Force to him, Maul leapt 3 meters into the air, somersaulted and landed
behind two of the other gang members. A single blow to the back of the neck to
one of them ended life immediately, while the other swung a wild fist towards
Maul's face. Maul caught it with one hand and held the arm there, while kicking
off the ground, spinning his body and landing a kick into the face of the
leader, who had pulled out a simple blade of metal to fight with.
As
Maul landed, he pushed arm of his captive attacker up and kicked into the boy's
armpit. The boy flew back and slammed into a brick wall. The remaining teenager
had picked up a pipe and came screaming at Maul, determined to smash his skull
in. Maul sent out a command in the Force, which burned its way into the
charging boy's brain. The gang member stopped, took the pipe and began hitting
himself repeatedly with it until there was a resounding "pop" as his skull
fractured, releasing his primitive brain to the atmosphere.
Maul
decided it was time to finish off the leader and he turned to approach him. As
he started to move, he felt another presence from above and the Force screamed
to him of something approaching fast. Maul whirled and caught a primitive
projectile in mid-air. He threw it down and look up in the direction from where
it came. He saw a female human, garbed in purple and black standing there. He
sensed a deep-rooted anger inside her and he found it …arousing. She had no
Force-potential, he could see that plainly in the way she did not stand out
against the living Force of the microbes in the air around her, but the hate
and hurt that seemed to explode from her very pores made her attractive to the
Dark Lord.
Contrary
to rumors, the Sith were not perverted rapists who had to satisfy their lusts
on any female they came across. Indeed, if anything, the Sith were far more
particular in their choosing of mates. A potential mate had to be of correct
character and similar disposition in order that sired children would be raised
correctly. His master, Darth Sidious, had moved away from that long-standing
Sith tradition, much to Maul's disliking. In Sith culture, Darth Sidious was a
Revisionist, a Dark Lord that believed the Sith must adapt to the ever changing
galaxy; Maul was a Traditionalist, a Dark Lord that believed that a changing
galaxy must be forced to conform to the beauty of the Sith way of life. It was
only one of many areas where he and his master conflicted.
Still,
he respected his master and would obey his commands, no matter what. That was
the Sith way.
The
female, he recognized from the memories he had absorbed, was called the
Huntress. She was rumored to be the mate of the Dark Knight. Maul smiled and
estimated the distance to the top of the building where she stood. Holding the
mate hostage was a sure way of convincing the Dark Knight to meet him in
combat. And, when he won, he thought to himself, he would take her for his own!
WayneTech Towers, Gotham City, present day:
"I'm
sorry, Batman, I wish I could be of more help," Connor Hawke said from the
video monitor in Bruce Wayne's private office in the WayneTech Towers. The
Batman had stopped here, entering though a secret passage in the building, in
order to get the current Green Arrow's opinion of his current quarry.
"So,
you don't recognize the fighting style, either?" the Batman asked.
"I
watched the Watchtower tapes about five time and I'm completely lost. Some
moves are very similar to some forms of the martial arts I've studied, but it's
more like the style that Nightwing uses. His style incorporates a lot of
acrobatics and boxing, while your style is more traditional. The fact that this
being is also telekinetic may explain many things. He may be using that ability
to enhance his fighting style."
Batman
paused for a moment. "What about his weapon usage?"
Connor
shook his head. "Incredible is all I can say. I wish I had that sort of skill.
In fact, I don't think I've ever seen anyone fight like that before. The fact
that he took on Green Lantern, Superman and Captain Marvel with it indicates
great confidence."
"Its
possible that he wasn't aware of their abilities to begin with. Did you notice
the look of astonishment when Superman wasn't penetrated by the weapon?"
"I
saw that…you know that a battle staff like that is usually meant for keeping
opponents away from you. It seems almost as if this creature, and I assume it's
male, was drawing them in closer…as if he wanted to fight."
"I
agree…he is very aggressive and also very skilled…"
"I
still haven't come up with a species, yet, Batman," came Oracle's voice over an
intercom. "I've checked with the my contacts from Thanagar, who accessed their
galactic database and they haven't come even close except for some odd
references to some organization that existed a long time ago. However, those
records are so incomplete that nothing useful could be ascertained except a
reference to swords made of light."
"This
creature or person wasn't using a sword," Batman said quietly.
"I
know…Connor, did you happen to notice his way of dressing?"
"The
robes? Yes, and the tattoos suggest membership in a monastic order, but I don't
know of any orders that wear black robes and tattoo so extensively. Not even
some of the death cults I've encountered or studies would tattoo to that
extent."
"Would
you agree that the severity of the tattooing indicates a high level within
whatever order he belongs to?"
Connor
was about to answer when a voice came across Batman's cowl receiver. It was
cold and almost soothing, much like what the serpent in the Garden of Eden must
have sounded like. "Is this the Dark Knight? The one they call 'Batman'?"
Batman
cut the connection to both Oracle and Connor and stood up. How had he gotten a
communicator to get in touch with him? "This is Batman. Who is this?"
"I
am Darth Maul, Dark Lord of the Sith," came the voice. The Batman hurriedly
scribbled the name and title on a piece of paper. "I have your mate."
My
mate? Then it hit Batman that the Huntress may have disobeyed him after all.
"Where is my 'mate'?"
There
was a cool chuckle. "She is quite beautiful, for a human, so full of anger…"
Batman
could hear the Huntress cursing like a sailor in the background. "Let her go."
Maul
ignored the order. "They say that this is your city, Dark Knight, that you are
its protector. It is you that controls the other…metahumans…"
Batman
punched up the homing program for the Huntress's JLA signal device. She didn't
possess a standard communicator that Batman distributed to his closest allies.
When she had been removed from the JLA, he had neglected to get the device and
she wouldn't relinquish it when asked for it later. She had claimed that
Superman had put her on reserve status, to which Batman had countered he didn't
care. It was still an open issue between Batman and Superman.
There
was a scream from the Huntress. "Are you paying attention, Dark Knight?"
"I'm
listening," the Batman replied as the computer brought up the location of the
Huntress's JLA signal device. She had disobeyed him. "What do you want?"
There
was a pause. "I want your city. I want your bat-emblem to wear upon my chest,
to acknowledge the superiority of the Dark Side."
"Darkseid?"
Batman asked, an edge to his voice. Darkseid was the ruler of Apokolips, a
planet far away that was accessible only through hyperspace travel. Darkseid
had set his sights on conquering Earth several times in the past and only the
efforts of the world's heroes had been enough to stop him. Suddenly, things
were starting to fall into place.
"You
will come for your mate, will you not? I will give you two standard Earth hours
to find us or I will avail myself to her charms myself!" Batman heard another
scream from the Huntress as the line was cut.
Batman
punched up the JLA monitor room. Steel answered. "Batman, what's the status?"
"I've
got the situation under control for the moment," he lied. "I've got some new
information you may find useful."
Batman
rattled off the details of his conversation with Darth Maul and waited for
Steel's response. "It could be, but I don't know. I found out how the guy got
in here. Seems Blue Beetle was fooling around with a prototype deep-space
transporter I was working on at one time. A short in the electrical system
boosted the output power and fried the directional computers. It's possible
that this guy was picked up off of Apokolips; some of the technology was from
New Genesis." Half of the planetoid Apokolips resided on was called New
Genesis, the result of two separate planets being made into one. Several former
members of the JLA were from New Genesis. "I couldn't be sure. I do know that I
can send this guy back to where he came from if we can get him back in the
teleporter."
Batman
nodded and signed off. He then keyed in for access to Nightwing's communicator.
"What's up?" came the reply.
Batman
again explained the situation and then told his former partner to round up
Robin and move to Oracle's location. "If he believes that the Huntress is my
mate, there's no telling what he'll think you three are. If he is telepathic,
he may garner some bits of information from her that could put us in danger.
It's better if I face him alone."
"I
don't agree, Batman. This isn't the Joker or Two-Face we're talking about; this
is a guy who makes Deathstroke look like a girl scout," Nightwing replied,
referring to the infamous mercenary that regularly fought the Titans, the super
team that Nightwing led.
"It's
not your decision to make. Gotham is my city; Bludhaven is yours. That's the
agreement."
There
was a long pause and Batman knew the younger man was uncomfortable with the
decision. "Alright. Nightwing out."
Batman
stood up and made his way to the secret wall safe that only he and Alfred,
Bruce Wayne's butler, knew about. He opened it and put the notes he had jotted
down inside and verified that his last will and testament was in it. Just a
sensible precaution he told himself. Closing the safe, he moved to the secret
entrance and was soon gone.
East Side of Gotham City, present day:
Darth
Maul was accustomed to many of the horrors of the universe. He had learned
about death at a very young age; in fact, he learned the value of death long
before the value of life. He had, in the past few weeks, killed hundreds of
beings in the service of his master. He had slipped into Hutt dens; witnessed
debased acts of carnal desire that would make most sentients regurgitate their
stomach contents. None of that, however, could compare to the litany of threats
and curses that this woman known as the Huntress was throwing his way.
He
did not even reach out with the Force; he didn't need to. It was obvious from
the look in her eyes that any thoughts he might have had as taking her as a
prize were ludicrous. As his mind, working with this new barbaric tongue, tried
to exactly determine what she was saying to him, the bits and pieces that did
get through did not make him feel very secure.
If
she were able to carry out even one of her threats, which Maul considered
absolutely physically impossible, the torment he would live through for the
rest of his life would be unimaginable. Every time he would cast a glance her
way, a new barrage of venom would assail him. This woman would make bounty
hunter turn away in embarrassment, he thought to himself. Surely even the
darkest parts of the Sith underworld, which was quite active centuries before,
had no tortures to compare to this constant berating by the captive human.
He
would have killed her if it weren't for the fact that he needed her mate. The
Dark Knight would not arrive if his mate were dead. It was obvious that no man
could love this woman and so it must have been her ample physical features that
kept her from being slain. Maul pitied the Dark Knight for a moment. It didn't
matter to him how beautiful she was, he could not stomach the idea of taking
that mouth to his private quarters. Undoubtedly, he thought to himself, any
fruit bore by that garden would indeed be spoiled!
As
he contemplated crushing her vocal cords with the Force, he became aware of a
new presence approaching. He could sense the raw determination, the total focus
to the task at hand. He almost smiled until he realized that he couldn't detect
the Force in great quantities coming from the approaching human.
Maul
walked to the edge of the roof, waiting as a figure swung across on a thin
line. The figure landed gracefully on the roof and turned to face him. He was
clad in an outfit that so many others seemed to like, dark with a mask and
cape, as if he had reason to hide his features. Maul realized then that maybe
this Dark Knight had to hide his identity, much as his master did. Perhaps it
was necessary for the ultimate plan. Perhaps he was not satisfied ruling only
this Gotham City?
"Greetings,
Dark Knight," maul said stepping closer. "I assumed that you would be a Sith."
The
Batman stood tall, a least a couple of centimeters taller than Maul, and he was
broader in the chest and shoulders. Maul could tell he was older, though not
quite as old as his master. "I don't belong to any order," was the Batman's
reply.
"What
of this Jay-ell-a-ee? Is that not an order of some sort? Is that not where your
Jedi congregate to decide this world's destiny?"
Batman
observed the way Darth Maul moved; there was a springiness to his step that
indicated a constant effort to contain his energy. It reminded him of himself
only a decade before; always ready to charge into battle. Experience and time
had taught him differently. "It's not an order and it doesn't decide the fate
of humanity. It exists to aid the world."
Maul
laughed, and Batman got a good look at his damaged, rotten teeth. "I can sense
how the words sting you as you speak them. You hate being part of their order,
part of their organization. You don't trust them…how alike we are, Dark Knight.
I, too, do not trust those with power that gather it all unto themselves. Where
I am from, they are called Jedi."
Batman
began to match Maul's pace and the two began a circle on the rooftop. Maul was
glad that the woman had finally learned to be quiet. "I've never heard of the
Jedi, but I guarantee that you and I are nothing alike. I don't kill."
"What
is killing to men such as you and I? Try and cover your feelings with pretty
speeches, Dark Knight, but the Force tells the truth. Deep inside you want to
kill, you want to destroy those who threaten you. You want order out of chaos."
"Killing
does not bring about order. It brings about suffering and fear."
Maul
began to pick up the pace a little. "Fear is my ally. Fear attracts the
weak…the strong…the fearful. Fear brings me strength over my enemies!"
Batman
countered. "Fear does not bring strength, only the impression of it."
"Is
that why you stalk your prey from the shadows? Is it because you only give the
impression of strength? Is it that you truly cannot protect your city, Dark
Knight?"
Batman
realized he was being goaded into fighting, but he was still wary of the battle
stave Darth Maul had employed in the Watchtower. "Why are you doing this? It
serves no purpose. Will Darkseid be served by killing me?"
"You
misunderstand me, Dark Knight, the Dark Side does not call for your death, only
your submission to it. Release your anger, let free the rage in your soul. It
will destroy you if you keep it locked up tight, that is the Sith way, to let
our emotions free."
Batman
saw his opportunity and moved in to strike. Maul saw the attack coming and
smiled. Batman immediately threw a kick out to the lightsaber hanging loosely
at Maul's side. It went up, but remained secure to his belt. Maul punched down,
catching the Batman's shin. Pain shot up through the Batman's leg as a nerve
went dead momentarily and then suddenly came to life. "Intellect always
overrides emotion," the Batman said.
Suddenly,
fists and kicks began to fly from the two. Batman would punch for the face or
chest, but the more limber Maul would block, while delivering small jabs with
his foot to the Batman's thighs. This went on for a couple of minutes when
Batman began to realize that he was starting to lose feeling in one of his
thighs. Maul was attacking pressure points!
Batman
feinted another face strike, but instead went for a heart punch which sent the
Dark Lord stumbling back. A wave of his hand and Batman felt himself being
lifted and tossed in the air. He back flipped and landed on his feet, assuming
a new attack stance. Maul came running and suddenly leapt forward, springing
off of his hands, calling the Force to him. Batman pulled a batarang out and
tossed it, aiming for Maul's leg. The move made him suddenly remember his own
throbbing thigh and he noted that he was leaning to one side.
The
razor-sharp batarang buried itself into Maul's thigh and he came down a few
feet in front of the Batman. Both combatants nursed their sore thighs; Maul
pulled the batarang out and examined it. "Impressive. But, still, you are
holding back."
"I
don't kill."
"You
don't seriously think you could kill me do you?" Maul asked, a wild look in his
eyes.
Batman
smiled this time. "It doesn't matter whether I could or not; I won't do it."
"You
don't deserve this city! You don't deserve the title of Dark Knight!" Maul
exclaimed as he reached out with the Force. He needed something to push the
Dark Knight over the edge. Only by true blood combat could he return to his
master with honor.
Batman
felt the knife-edge of the telepathic link. He had felt it many times before
when the Martian Manhunter had linked the entire JLA telepathically. "Get out
of my mind!" He moved forward and delivered a kick to Maul's knee that should
have permanently damaged it, ending the fight. The dark lord jumped up and out
of the way, back flipping and landing a blow to the Batman's chin.
As
the Batman fell back, Maul continued the telepathic assault. An image came to
him, then a flurry of emotions. He probed further. "The rage in you is as great
as in myself or my master."
Batman
pushed himself back up and just managed to avoid his own batarang being flung
back at him. When he looked back up, Maul was on him, with a kick to the
sternum. The metal plate that was part of the costume prevented the Batman's
chest from caving in with the blow. Batman stumbled back, but stopped short of
falling. When another kick came at him, his reflexes took over and he grabbed
Maul's leg. Spinning him around until he was off balance, he tossed Maul across
the rooftop.
Maul
rolled with throw and ended up in a crouch. "Perhaps it is only fitting that
your parents died when they did," Maul said, using the information he had
gathered from the Batman's mind. "They would only be disappointed in what they
produced."
An
animal snarl escaped from the Batman's throat and Maul was happy to see the
warrior leap at him, hands extended like the claws of a bird of prey. As they
came in contact, they began a dance of slaps, kicks, jabs and punches. Each
attack was met with a counter-attack, which was met with still another attempt
to penetrate the martial defenses. Each was pushing themselves to their limit.
Maul
noted with distinct pleasure that he was not relying on the Force to guide his
motions, instead, it was almost as if he were in a symbiotic relationship with
the Dark Knight. Here was his physical equal. Perhaps this Dark Knight did not
employ the Force; perhaps he existed on a pathetic planet in a backwater
galaxy; perhaps he ruled over a single city full of degenerate inhabitant. It
did not matter. Here was a being confident and sure in his place in the scheme
of things, of his purpose. Had he the Force-potential, Maul considered as he
blocked a blow to his groin, this Batman would make a fine apprentice.
Despite
his anger, despite the build-up of heat and sweat in his costume, the Batman
found himself smiling. When he had discussed Maul's abilities with Nightwing,
he actually found himself enjoying the prospect of engaging the alien in
hand-to-hand combat. Here he was, going blow for blow with a much younger
being, caught up in a frenzy of physical action like he had never experienced.
Too often, he had to hold back in everything he did, while here he did not.
Here was an opponent that wanted to see everything he had; an opponent that
wanted him to hit him so that he could learn something, so that he could test
his own abilities. Batman neither knew nor cared why Darth Maul had not pulled
out his staff; perhaps it was because there was a certain honor among beings
like them. Years of training, dedication and self-motivation to achieve
absolute perfection.
That
perfection could only be tested against someone of equal ability.
It
looked as if it were going to be a stalemate that the two combatants would
continue until they both fell form exhaustion until Batman saw a flaw in Maul's
defenses. The closer that Batman got to his face, the wilder the defense
became. Though the tattooing hid any blemishes, the Batman guessed that he had
a wound somewhere on the temple. The sweat from the physical demands Maul was
putting on his body must have been aggravating the area. Batman's knuckles were
already sore beyond belief, but he had his gloves to protect him.
Batman
blocked a punch, spun Maul around and hit him full force in the temple. The
dark lord fell to one knee as pain raced behind his eyes. At that moment, all
the enjoyment he had previously felt left him as he drew the dark side to him
to ease the pain. It was time to end this.
Darth
Maul reached out with the Force and put a vise-like grip around the Batman's
windpipe and began to slowly squeeze. The batman tried to break the invisible
grip, but was unable to and he soon felt himself lifting off of the ground.
Quickly, his hand went down to his utility belt, where he kept his
flash-grenades. As he pulled one out, her suddenly fell to the ground, the grip
having been released.
Maul
sensed the presence; it was extremely strong in the Force. It felt like a
Jedi's mind. So intent, though, he was on defeating the Dark Knight that he had
let his defenses down. He instantly reached for his lightsaber and pulled it
free, totally by reflex. His hatred of the Jedi overcoming his common sense.
Materializing
out of the air, a large green-skinned humanoid appeared, taking Maul totally
off guard. As he brought the lightsaber hilt up, he remembered that he had
destroyed the power cell. Then the Martian Manhunter struck him squarely in the
face, rendering him unconscious.
JLA Watchtower, Earth's Moon, present day:
Without
ceremony, J'onn J'onzz dumped the still body of Darth Maul onto the transporter
pad. "Are you sure about this, Batman?"
Batman,
being supported by Superman, nodded. "I don't care what he's done…he's too
dangerous to be kept here. He needs to go back to Apokolips or wherever he was
from. I can't imagine a prison cell that would hold him for very long."
The
Martian Manhunter nodded again and stepped back as Steel activated the device.
A shimmering wave fell across the body and covered it. Within seconds, the body
was gone. Steel walked over to the
control drawer and opened it. He pulled out the circuit board that had been the
culprit of the malfunction and smashed it.
Batman
nodded and motioned for Superman to help him back to the infirmary. "Do you
think we'll ever know exactly what he was?"
Before
Superman could answer, the Martian Manhunter interjected. "I got a glimpse of
his home system from his mind. He was a very, very powerful telepath. I've
tried to match the star systems to any known galaxy maps. I couldn't do it."
"What
does that mean?" Batman asked, rubbing a cracked rib.
"It
means that he may not have even been from this reality. Its possible that he
was pulled straight out of Hypertime…that he's part of some alternate reality."
Batman
remained silent for a moment. "Well, I hope he stays in that alternate
reality."
"Does
this mean that you are not upset with my having broken your non-interference
rule?" the Martian Manhunter asked.
"So
long as word doesn't get out that I needed your help, J'onn," the Batman
managed to smile.
Superman
smiled this time. "It would make one hell of a story for the Daily Planet.
Imagine the headline: Batman gets stomped."
"Just
remember, Clark," Batman said as they entered the infirmary, "I've still got
that Kryptonite bullet."
Hidden apartment of Darth Sidious, Coruscant, a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away:
"I
have failed you, my master," Darth Maul said as he kneeled, head bowed, before
his Sith master.
Darth
Sidious raised an eyebrow from inside his cloak, wondering what his apprentice
was talking about. "Rise, Lord Maul, and tell me what it is that you have not
done."
Darth
Maul stood up, but kept his head lowered. "I have failed in my test against the
Dark Knight. His Jedi allies surprised me."
Darth
Sidious considered the words for a moment and then reached into his
apprentice's mind. There was no resistance by Darth Maul and his master soon
discovered strange alien thoughts in his pupil's mind. "Where did you obtain
these memories?" The Darth Sidious stepped back. "Perhaps you have meditated too long, Lord Maul. Sometimes, when
we concentrate strongly enough on the Force, images of the past and present
come into our minds. Your desire to battle the Jedi has obviously left you open
to suggestion from these things. In that, I have failed you, my pupil."
His
master moved towards a window. Artificial lights were coming on, simulating the
rise of a sun. "I have completed the bargaining with the Trade Federation, the
blockade of Naboo will go according to schedule. Undoubtedly, the council will
send the Jedi in. Then, I will send you in, my pupil. Meditation is not enough,
you must be able to put your skills to the test."
Darth
Maul was about to speak up, to claim that he had experienced no vision, but
thought better of it. If his master thought he was suffering from some sort of
madness, then his chance to kill Jedi would be lost. Perhaps it all was a
dream. He considered it for a moment. Men that could not be hurt by
lightsabers? Women who curse to the point it embarrassed a Dark Lord? A normal
man holding his own in battle with a Sith?
Perhaps
he had been dreaming. He smiled a sinister smile. He had obviously been hurt
when the spy droid had shot him and he had fallen into a Sith healing trance.
That explained everything.
As
his master continued to speak of the future, Darth Maul contemplated how many
Jedi would fall before him.
Still,
it didn't explain why he was sore.
Or
why his lightsaber had no power cell.
Or
why his leg hurt from a deep penetrating wound.
He
decided that after this Trade Federation business, he would look into exactly
what had happened to him. After all, he considered, this was going to be
simple. At most, two or three Jedi sent to Naboo to investigate the Trade
Federation blockade. He snorted. Probably only a Jedi Knight and a padawan
learner. Surely, they would be no match for him.
He
had the Dark Side as his ally.
The
End