CHAPTER SEVEN
Blowout

Starfire dodged the yellowish-green energy that lanced through the air centimeters behind her, sweeping through the air to avoid its undoubtedly unpleasant effects. Below her, on the dining hall floor, Lex Luthor was aiming a glinting energy rifle, trying to hit her with each squeeze of the firing stud. The villains that had decided to stick around were cheering the man on; a few even asked breathlessly, “Where can I get a rifle like that!”

“We’ll talk after the party,” Luthor grunted. He fired another coruscating blast, and this one found its target.

“Ughh-hh!” Starfire seized up in midair as the beam struck her body, the hot, debilitating energy dispersing over her entire frame. The girl went limp, dropping to the floor. Her body made a dull thump that barely resonated through the rich carpet.

“See, boys?” Lex announced to the crowd of onlookers. “These rifles work on aliens too.” There was a roar of appreciated laughter.

Starfire let out a soft groan, and she extended one hand, her fingertips clawing weakly at the floor. Lex Luthor’s shoes drew closer, and Starfire pulled back. Her skin was burning and tingling unpleasantly, but she could feel the effect slowly fading.

Luthor leveled the weapon at her. He thumbed the weapon to its highest setting.

With a warrior-like cry, Starfire shoved off from her position on the floor. Luthor stumbled back, then quickly brought up the weapon to fire at her.

Starfire ignored the weapon. A ball of hot energy appeared in her hands, and she hurled it at the man, striking him with enough forced to send him flying several feet backwards. His landing caused more than enough impact to jerk the energy rifle from his hands, and the weapon bounced then rolled across the floor.

Starfire flew for the rifle, landing beside it and snatching it up before any of the surrounding villains could take command of it. Giving them all her sweetest smile, she held the weapon between her dainty hands and ground it into scrap, the shrill sound of crushing metal not even causing her to blink. The super-criminals watched with wide eyes as she decimated and twisted the rifle beyond recognition.

Starfire let out a small giggle and tossed the now-useless weapon to the floor. “Oops,” she said. “I appear to have broken it.”

(TT TT TT)

“You just never know when to quit, do you, Cyborg?”

Brother Blood’s face was inches from Cyborg’s own, and the teenager grimaced at the almost manic look on the headmaster’s face. Blood’s eyes were on the verge of crazed, and his lips were drawn back in a snarl that exposed his gritted teeth.

The both of them were locked in a death-grip, Cyborg’s strong metallic hands trying their best to restrain Blood’s wrists and push the bad guy away from himself. But Blood was proving hard to trump with his strength.

“You don’t know when to quit either,” Cyborg grunted back. “Still sore from the last time I kicked your sorry butt?”

Blood’s eyes widened, and their sinister red glow blinked out of existence almost comically. “You—you will pay for that remark, you insufferable—”

Cyborg twisted his hold on Blood’s arms, his grip tightening, and using all of his mechanical muscle he threw the older man down to the floor with enough force to crack it beneath him. Brother Blood twitched, but managed to pull himself up after a few moments, his eyes glowing so intensely that he looked like an insane demon. Cyborg actually stepped back from the sight, as if being to close would allow the man to possess him.

“I am always the master, Cyborg,” Blood told him, advancing. “Always. Even the master of you.”

Cyborg’s one human eye widened. “No you are not!” he returned. “I’m the master of me!”

Blood let out an inhuman hiss and leapt for the teenager. Barely registering his own action, Cyborg snapped up his arm canon; the depth of the barrel glowed a bright blue, whitening as the energy within intensified. He fired, and the sonic blast from the canon struck the older man hard enough to drag a scream of pain from him. Brother Blood’s mechanical parts reflected the very brightness of the energy consuming his half-human body, and Cyborg was blinded by the light exploding from his arm.

When it faded, he saw Brother Blood imbedded in the far wal lthrough the spots dancing in front of his eyes, mouth slack and mechanical limbs limp.

Cyborg allowed himself a tight, small smirk of triumph. “Booyah…jerk.”

(TT TT TT)

“Terra…” Beast Boy stared at the girl, his green eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and longing. Even in the cold armor that Slade had given her, with the almost devilish plugs placed on ether side of her blonde head, she was so small—but so deadly. Beast Boy inwardly shuddered at the dark web of lies Slade had used to turn a meek young girl into an angry minion, programmed only to obey her master and no one else--not even herself.

The saddest part of all was that she was still so beautiful, even adorned with Slade’s metallic influence on her body.

Terra was barely looking around the room despite the chaos that was tearing it apart. Instead, she stuck close to the wall, heading for a door across the room near the head table, which was now overturned.

That was when another person burst through the doors, one garbed in a familiar black suit and white skull mask. Beast Boy gaped in shock as Terra turned around and the thief ran at her, tackling her to the floor.

“No!” he found himself yelling.

(TT TT TT)

“Ack!” Terra struggled beneath the slim but weighty body on top of her, her thin legs scrambling uselessly against the carpet. For a moment the floor beneath the both of them trembled slightly, and Terra quickly suppressed her aggravated powers. Slade wouldn’t be pleased at all if she brought the building down—not with him in it, anyway.

“I—don’t have—time for this!” she grunted at Red X. One blue-gloved hand was pressed into the thief’s face, while the other had his wrist, preventing him from touching anything that didn’t belong to him. “I have to—be somewhere!”

“A movie with me?” Red X asked her, his masked face inches from her own.

“Ugh! I’d rather date Johnny Rancid.”

“Okay, that hurts—”

Suddenly, a green streak flew through the air, hitting Red X from the side and carrying him off Terra and across the floor, pinning him down.

“What the—” Terra sat up and turned her head. She gasped when she saw it--a green tiger holding Red X against the floor, the tiger’s snout inches from the thief’s face.

“Beast Boy!” Terra’s fist clenched and a slight growl escaped her throat.

“Well, well, well.” Red X let out a slight, mechanized laugh, his chest rising and falling with amusement beneath Beast Boy’s massive paw. “I guess she’s already taken.” Before the tiger could react, X’s hand went for his belt. His image flickered, and he shimmered out of existence.

Beast Boy stared at the empty space where Red X had teleported, but quickly shook it off. Going from tiger form to his smaller, fourteen-year-old human body, he looked at Terra. “Are you okay, Terra? I thought he was gonna hurt y—”

Terra felt a sudden swell of energy inside of her, large and powerful enough to make her cry out with exertion. The floor split in front of her, tearing toward Beast Boy as if a psychotic gopher were speeding beneath it. The boy gasped and dove out of the way of the fissure. In the rest of the dining hall, the room of villains cried out as tremors shook the foundation of the hotel.

Terra felt her powers die down as quickly as they had come. She turned around to see Slade standing behind her, the man’s hulking form towering over her even from several feet away. For a moment she was grateful to see her master, until she saw the simmering look that somehow managed to set itself on his masked face.

“Where,” Slade demanded sternly, stepping toward her, “have you been?”

“I—Red X—” Terra tried to step back as he advanced, but she suddenly couldn’t move. Around her, in her, she could feel his presence, almost as if he were holding her in place himself.

“When I call,” Slade told her, now looming above her, “you come, apprentice.”

“Red X intercepted me! He wouldn’t let me go! It wasn’t my fault!” Terra looked up at him almost pleadingly, like a child who was trying to convince a parent that they had been set up.

“Hey, dude!” Beast Boy’s voice rang out behind them. “Leave her alone!”

Slade suddenly jerked back as Beast Boy, once again in his green tiger form, leapt over her shoulder for the man. In a flash Slade’s bo staff was out and held protectively in front of his chest, catching Beast Boy’s sharp jaws before they could embed themselves into his flesh.

Slade’s concentration now given to Beast Boy, Terra felt his hold over her slip. She stumbled back a moment before she regained control of herself. In front of her, Beast Boy and Slade struggled with each other before Slade shoved away the large green cat with a powerful thrust of his staff. Part of her hoping to appease Slade, part of her just wanting to decimate Beast Boy, Terra sent another tremor through the already-ruined floor, striking the unsuspecting green tiger and sending him airborne before he crashed against the wall, eliciting a feline sound of pain before he slid down it and landed in a heap.

“Good girl,” Slade said dispassionately, retracting his staff and slipping it back into his belt.

Around the room, the invited super-criminals were now thoroughly shocked by the small blonde’s very big powers. Some began to flee, creating even more chaos in the dining hall. Those who could teleport or fly did so quickly.

“NO!” a voice cried.

Terra went flying as a starbolt hit her armored chest, sending her rolling across the floor. She groaned, and looked up in time to see Starfire sweeping down on her, eyes and hands blazing intense green. Terra let out a yell and scrambled out of the way, falling to her knees and spinning around to watch the Tamaranian curve back into the air.

“Terra, take care of her!” Slade ordered. Terra prepared to draw the cement foundation up through the floor when Cyborg appeared to her left, his arm cannon leveled straight at her.

“Don’t move, Terra,” he ordered.

“I suggest you not worry about my apprentice,” Slade told him, “when you have other problems to concern yourself with.”

Cyborg’s arm cannon slipped slightly as he regarded the man, confusion etching onto his features. “What are you talking about?” Starfire let out a gasp from above him, and a moment later, the robotic teen was hoisted up into the air by two pillar-like, muscle-bulging arms.

“What’s—urhg—” Cyborg struggled against a huge chest, his metallic legs kicking uselessly. “Who is this?” he demanded, trying to turn his head. “Who’s got me?”

“I am known as Bane,” a heavy, accented voice hissed at him from behind.

“Release him!” Starfire ordered, holding out one glowing hand toward Bane, and the other at Slade. “Now!”

“I think not,” Slade told her coolly. “You see, you’re going to surrender.” He tilted his head slightly toward Beast Boy as his tiger form slowly got to its feet. “You—demorph. Now.”

The tiger glared at Slade, head low and ears flattened, but after a glance at Cyborg, Beast Boy obeyed and demorphed. Following Beast Boy’s example, Starfire extinguished the starbolts around her fists, dropping her arms to her sides.

Around the dining hall, the last remains of the villain community who had insisted on staying were whispering excitedly, drawing as close to the scene as they dared.

“Good,” Slade said to the Titans. “Now, Terra, you will find Robin and Raven, and we can settle this.”

“No need,” a voice said behind him. Slade barely spun around in time to see Robin leaping through the air toward him, propelled by Raven’s psychic powers. His bo staff was in his hands and he swung it toward Slade’s masked face. “I’m already here!”

Slade quickly ducked beneath the staff and once again whipped out his own. The two metallic weapons clanged together before Slade knocked Robin’s away.

“Good,” Slade said. “Very good. Terra, my dear, now is your chance to redeem yourself.”

Robin watched in surprise as Slade backed away from him, instead indicating for his apprentice to fight the Boy Wonder. The blonde girl gave a slight smile and ran at him with an almost eager look on her face. As Robin swung his staff, preparing to fight, Starfire dropped down beside him from the air.

“I am here, Robin!”

Robin didn’t have a chance to answer; Terra’s hands were starting to glow.

Raven, meanwhile, had her glowing eyes on Bane. “We meet again,” she said to the large Columbian. “Let my friend go, and I’ll go easy on you.”

“I think not,” Bane told her. “I can crush your friend easily, like squashing an insect. Try anything and he will be the size of a toaster.”

Raven made a violent slash through the air with her hand. The intravenous tubing that fed Bane his Venom super-steroid turned black, then snapped in two, spilling the toxic-looking green liquid onto the floor. Bane jerked, stepping away from the puddle that was forming. He quickly removed one arm from Cyborg and tried to grab the tube to cut off the flow.

“Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!” Raven yelled, encompassing Cyborg’s frame with her powers and pulling him bodily from Bane’s grip. Setting him down, she returned her attention to the mercenary and blasted him through the wall…and the next wall…and into the next…

Making their way across the room and toward the villains on the sidelines, Robin and Starfire were running out of space to avoid Terra’s assault. She was tearing up more and more of the floor, and the walls were shaking as the building trembled from her powers.

Starfire summoned a starbolt in her hands and threw it at the girl, but Terra drew up the concrete foundation from the beneath them, sending floorboards and debris into the air, and the blocked the bolt easily. Drawing the cement fragment into the air, she threw it at the two superheroes.

“No!” Starfire cried, hurtling in front of Robin and catching the projectile in her strong Tamaranian arms. She spun with the fragment’s momentum, and tossed it back at the girl. Terra barely threw out her hands in time to stop the concrete before it smashed into her.

“Terra, stop!” Beast Boy cried. The green changeling was running up behind her, eyes frantic. “Stop attacking everyone! I know you don’t want to do this!”

“Don’t I?” Terra grunted. She swung the piece of concrete toward him. Beast Boy let out a shrill cry and shrank down into a hawk to escape it. A safe distance away, he landed and returned to his human self.

“Terra!” he cried.

Terra ignored his pleas. The entire hotel seemed to pitch as her eyes were encompassed with yellow, sending everyone to their knees. Frightened cries came from the watching villains as sections of the ceiling crashed down to the floor.

“That’s it, Terra,” Slade told her over the rumbling noise. The trembling didn’t seem to be as bad where he was standing, and with effort he managed to keep himself upright. “The conference is beyond saving anyway.”

The villains didn’t seem to share this sentiment. All were running for cover or trying to find an exit. From his hiding place under a table, Dr. Drakken screamed hysterically, “This is some crazy shizzle, yo!”

Terra smirked as the Titans tried to avoid the ceiling literally falling down upon their heads.

“Raven!” Robin yelled loudly. “Teleport now!”

“Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!” the empathy chanted. Instantly she was surrounded by her shadow-like bird form, which then swept toward the other Titans, gathering them into it with her. Cyborg, not hearing Robin’s command, had gone down on one knee and aimed his arm cannon at Terra. One shot was all it took to knock the geomancer unconscious. A moment later, the raven-like shadow had Cyborg too, and it phased out of existence.

Without Terra, the quake shaking the building subsided, and the screaming in the room slowly died away. Portions of the ceiling continued to rain down on the tenets, though, and they stayed put in their hiding places.

The penguin, lodged firmly into one corner of the room, looked with wide eyes at Rupert Throne. Somehow, he still had his usual cigarette and holder in his mouth. “I suppose I got the display I wanted after all,” he said weakly, a shaky smile coming to his face.

(TT TT TT)

Catwoman awoke with her eye throbbing and a headache settled into her brain. Groaning, she sat up, her right hand automatically resting over her eye as a grimace came to her face. She could tell without even looking that her eye had one heavy, spreading bruise around it, one that probably wouldn’t be going away any time soon.

“Great.” she muttered. “You try to come on to a guy, and he gives you a punch to the face. Must be one of those rough lovers.”

Still, aside from a minor bruise and a headache, she felt fine. That was a good thing, because she needed to make a quick getaway before Slade—or Shego—found her. Shego especially. Pushing herself to her feet, Catwoman stood up, ignoring the woozy sensation that echoed through her skull. She started down the hallway and began looking for a window that she could slice open and escape from.

Finding such a window, Catwoman was soon scaling down the building, the soft wind blowing against her cowled face.

She couldn’t imagine why the conference’s attendees were rushing outside below her, or why the parking lot looked like an earthquake had blown through it.

(TT TT TT)

“Ha ha ha!” The Joker, hands wrapped around his sides with mirth, was laughing hysterically to himself as tiny bits of plaster still occasionally rained down from the ceiling. “This was undeniably the best party yet!”

The dining room’s ceiling had finally stopped dropping everywhere, and the remaining criminals inside the dinning hall were now scattered about the floor, recalling how close to death they had come or chatting with mirth at the experience, now that it was over and they had survived it. Some were wondering if dinner was still going to be served, and were now hunting down the waiters to find out.

At the Joker’s side, Harley suppressed a shudder. “I wouldn’t say this was the best party ever, puddin’. That freak’s littler freak almost squashed us flat!”

The Joker ignored her, but he had stopped laughing at the horror show that had almost destroyed them all. “Ah, I love these little get-togethers,” he sighed, wiping a tear from his eye. “This one definitely outshines the Chicago conference, Harl.”

Harley recalled the Chicago conference. Sadly, she had to agree.

(TT TT TT)

“Daddy, look at my OUTFIT!” Kitten’s loud shriek echoed around the large dining hall, making her father shrink down as his ears threatened to explode. The Amazing Mumbo, who was still ducked behind their upturned table, did the same. “That stupid blonde girl totally ruined it!” Kitten screeched.

“Yes, dear, she seems quite stupid,” Killer Moth agreed quickly, trying to placate her. “Nothing like you.” —Terra was a nice young girl who wasn’t loud, did anything her father figure asked, and helped him in his goals for world domination to boot. Yep, she didn’t compare to Kitten, all right.

“You are soooo going to give me your credit card,” Kitten told her father.

“My credit card?” Killer Moth squeaked. “Why?”

”So I can buy a new outfit, duh!” Kitten hit her father with her purse. “I have to look good for—F-F-Fang!”

“Huh?” Killer Moth looked in his daughter’s direction, and automatically groaned. A teenaged boy with a spider sitting in place of his head was walking toward them. Killer Moth wasn’t sure if half-spiders could swagger, but Fang seemed to be doing it quite well.

“Baby!” Fang said, holding his arms out to Killer Moth’s daughter. Kitten squealed with delight and shoved violently past her father, running and jumping into Fang’s waiting arms. Killer Moth watched with a father’s distress as Kitten proceeded to press her lips against Fang’s spidery mandibles.

Okay, father’s distress and regular disgust.

“I was wrong, baby,” Fang told Kitten when their mouths had parted ways. “Want to get back together?”

“Ohhh, you bet!” Kitten gushed. She kissed him again, and Mumbo clutched his chest, sinking behind his table. “Daddy,” Kitten said, breaking her lips away and turning to face her father, “Fang and I are going out. I’ll be back at the house before three.”

“But what about your ruined clothes?” Killer Moth asked.

“Daddy, this is true love!” Besides, Fang’ll just raid the mall for me anyway.”

And with that, the single father watched his daughter be taken away by a scoundrel.

“So that’s Fang, huh?” Mumbo asked, poking his head up from behind the table.

“Yes,” Killer Moth said heavily. He heaved a broken-down sigh.

“It must really suck to be you,” Mumbo told him.

Killer Moth shrugged his slumped shoulders. “You get used to it.”

(TT TT TT)

Across the room, Señor Senior, Sr. was leaning on his cane, looking up at Slade with the almost comradely look he gave men who were rich but not quite as rich as himself. “Well, this was certainly an…interesting conference,” he said. “Not quite as boring as last year’s, to be sure.”

Slade was barely listening to the man, but he gave a small nod of his head, as etiquette dictated. “I suppose,” he granted.

“Well, we shall see you in a year or two,” Senior told him, and began walking for the exit. “Come, Junior.”

“Oh, but Father—” A dim-looking boy followed after him. “This party was a major drag! Can we go to a discotheque now?”

Slade watched them go and wondered if it was best that he had an apprentice and no biological child of his own. Senior had a hell of a time trying to convince Junior to join the Parthenon of crime and world domination. Slade couldn’t imagine producing such a son.

Turning, the mastermind looked upon his apprentice, who still lain unconscious against a wall where he had last left her. He suspected Terra would be out for several hours—Cyborg’s arm cannon must have been on a high setting. If he’d adjusted the levels a few points higher, Slade might not have had an apprentice at all.

Oh well. At least everyone would remember how the Titans had run for it, instead of Terra letting them get away. That was good for his image. He could forgive her for the earlier Red X mishap, whatever that had been about.

Slade bent down and gathered the girl up. Since Wintergreen hadn’t come this year (Mad Mod always clung to him) he would have to carry Terra out of here himself. Throwing the girl over his shoulder, he headed for the exit.

Across the room, Mumbo shook his head and looked at Killer Moth as he pointed to Slade. “You know that’s not going to do anything to help his reputation.”

(TT TT TT)

Back at Titans Tower, everyone was taking turns in the bathroom, showering off the night’s sweat and other accumulated grunge. Raven had gone first, and was now clothed in a fresh leotard and cloak. Her hair was still a little damp, so she was rubbing it with a towel as she walked into Robin’s room, where the Boy Wonder was looking over his various bruises and injuries.

“What a night,” she said in her usual flat voice.

Robin looked up to her. “Yeah,” he said. “And I can’t help but think some of it’s my fault.”

“Hm,” Raven said. “Well, for what it’s worth, if you hadn’t spilled the secret, Beast Boy would have.”

Robin smirked. “True.”

Raven threw the towel over her shoulder, and tapped one gray finger against her chin thoughtfully. “I can’t help but wonder, though—who sent you the information regarding the villain’s conference? How did they know so much?”

“I don’t know,” Robin said heavily. “All I know is that he was right about everything—well, except Slade.”

His eyes suddenly turned to slits behind his mask. “Wait a minute. You don’t think…”

“Don’t even go there,” Raven said.

“It’s just a thought.”

“It makes no sense, Robin.” Raven spun on her heel and started for the door. “Slade didn’t send you that information. Good night.”

“But—”

“Good night, Robin.”

(TT TT TT)

Back in his lair, Slade was sitting in his darkened office, which was made all the more dark as his viewing monitors were turned off instead of running their usual video feeds. Booted feet propped up on his desk, Slade was regarding the opened Super-Villain’s conference invitation he had received in the mail. At the time, he had barely read the invitation before casting it amongst the other papers on his desk. Even now, he couldn’t find the motivation to read the same old words that greeted him every year. Still, this year had been a bearable experience.

The Titans showing up had been a surprise—normally Slade didn’t care for surprises, but this had been a good one. The party had been livened up considerably, and he’d had a chance to kick Robin around a little. Even Chicago hadn’t had Robin-bashing.

The man regarded the invitation in his hand, then crumpled it up and let it fall to the small trash bin near his work desk. “Still a waste of time,” he said out loud, “when I have better things to do...”

…Maybe he’d make an appearance next year.

--The End--