Fan Fiction ❯ Stolen in the Orange Sunset ❯ Prologue ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fiction, and one of my subplots I got from Seth Turtle, for which I thank him greatly. If any of my readers have any complaints about this piece, then all I can say is…that's what reviews are for, my duckies.

 

 

****************

 

 

It was a dark night in the city, especially in this part. Here, the well known company that once flourished was shut down, boarded up, put on the auction block. Not that anyone would buy it - some thought, no matter how superstitious, believed that the place had some kind of curse on it. They delegated upon the matter until the building was run down, all the heavy machinery and computers stripped out of it, a number of warehouses still stocked with dangerous chemicals most were afraid to touch.

 

There was a flash of light, a small beam of energy, and a hole was cut through a wall. A dark figure wearing a black body suit with an odd metal plate on it, a metal shoulder-collar, an orange spot in the middle of the mask walked in, hunched over with too-sharp fingers extended out; a small device held tightly in one hand. It walked in, followed by another. And another. And another. They started to walk the halls, occasionally stopping to check something (most likely the present location) before taking a turn and entering in what was once a laboratory, now stripped clean yet so dirty. The figures looked around, before one spotted something, a shipping manifest hidden by debris and other things. It passed it to the one in charge, then the group left, still holding onto the dirtied slip of paper.

 

Shortly after, covered in shadows, another dark figure entered, looking around, small white eyes narrowing in annoyance; the normally cold face frowned, heavier than anything it had done before.

 

 

-------------------------------

 

 

The warehouse in question had labels, signs all over saying it was all in the custody of the local police precinct; but the figures ignored that as they climbed over fences and pushed open doors, cutting through things with the lasers as was needed. Soon they found themselves inside the large building, which appeared to be empty for the most part, a few boxes here and there. All of this was a cover, however, as the boxes themselves hid large canisters of the infamous Big Bang gas, as it was commonly called. Each figure, except for the leader, took a container; and started to walk for the exit. However, as they did, they also came across another unwanted visitor.

 

A bolt of purplish energy lanced out and struck the leader, making him twitch and fall down in a heap, momentarily stunned and twitching. The rest turned to see a young African-America man wearing a blue black overcoat, black pants, and a black shirt with a golden circle with a bolt-shaped “s” inside it, a yellow belt, and a pair of dark boots with yellow. He also wore a white upper-face mask, a pair of blue mirrored `shades' just under his dreadlocks. He was standing on a thin levitating disk, wearing an amused smile on his face.

 

“You know, you guys must be new here, `cause hardly anyone from Dakota is stupid enough to break in here,” he commented flippantly, before making an ack sound and spinning out of the way as her narrowly avoided a laser burst from the leader. “You know, most people stay down after the first zap…” he noted a little shakily as the leader started firing at him, then jumped forwards and grabbed him by the arm, hitting him in the nose. “OWWW!”

 

The man tried hitting him again, but the boy wriggled free, losing his coat in the progress, and rubbing his bare arms. “Chilly tonight, huh?” he asked, not really expecting an answer. When he did not get one, he used electromagnetic abilities to `grab' the gas canisters and lift them up into the air out of the reach of the thieves. This, unfortunately, earned him their full attention, and he found himself dodging left, right as they swung their fists feet and lasers at him. He rode the waves like a surfer, twisting in the air and spinning around like a pro-skateboarder, but the last one sent him falling onto his butt with a loud thud. “Again, OWWW!”

 

Rubbing his derriere, finding escape impossible from the surrounding ninjas; the charging lasers made his ears ring.” This can't be good…”

 

Then one of the ninjas - that's the only word you could call them, really - was dragged off of its feet by a thin black cord, yanked up into the air and out of site. Then a small black ball hit the ground and exploded, releasing a thick, smoggy cloud that burned the boy's eyes and made he hack and cough, though hardly effecting the others, who just stood there, almost confused. Then a dark, almost demonic form burst from the cloud and slammed one black boot into a man's neck, a loud snap sound echoing in the enclosed space. Then that limp form was tossed at another one, knocking the man down. The boy coughed more, and then levitated his disk to himself, and floated up in the air, waving his hand in front of him and coughing loudly.

 

“Well, THAT was nasty, even considering all that I've been through…” he hacked, slapping himself on the back and rubbing at his tearing eyes. Then he watched the brutal fight below, and whistled in amazement.

 

When it was all over, the only person left standing was a man wearing a distinctive cape and cowl, and holding onto what looked like a dead body. The younger hero lowered himself to the ground, and swallowed hard. “Uhm…is that what I think it is?”

 

“No.” The older, more masked man reached down and yanked hard on what looked like a mask, and removed a faceplate, revealing a broken monitor and other mechanical components.

 

“Good…`cause for a second there you had me worried….”

 

“Static…”

 

“Sorry…”

 

The older man, Batman, dropped the robot, chunks of metal, glass, and plastic spilling onto the floor of the warehouse and making a general mess. “This is bizarre…” he muttered, more for himself than for the other's benefit, and studied the faceplate vigorously. Static went looking through the mess that Batman had made, and eventually found his jacket, sighing a little at the few rips and tears it had picked up in the fight, then put it on, and rubbing once more at his eyes.

 

“What? The fact that someone's trying to steal Big Bang gas, or that I've just had my first run-in with robotic ninjas?”

 

“These particular robotic ninjas were only used by one man, and it wasn't in any area the League had any active interest in.”

 

“Run that by me again, Batman?”

 

“These things come from Jump City…I'm sure you heard of it…”

 

“Uh, yeah…my class was gonna go on a fieldtrip there this week, actually.”

 

Batman allowed himself a small smile, which made Static nervous. “That's good for you…”

 

“Uhm, why?”

 

“Remember when I told you about Robin, and the Titans?”

 

“You mentioned it one time, yeah…”

“Well, now you get to meet them…”

 

Static paused in mid-answer, scratching the back of his head with puzzlement. “So, you're saying that they're in…oh…”

 

“I forgot you weren't much of a news person.”

 

“Yeah, sorry…”

 

Batman rolled his eyes under his mask, and sighed. “Virgil, the Titans are the resident heroes of Jump City. These robots belong to an old enemy of theirs, who is supposed to be dead. This person is apparently after Big Bang gas, which we know is used to create meta-humans.”

 

It was Static's turn to roll his eyes, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “I'm not that clueless…I can see the big picture okay, thank you very much.”

 

“Good. Then you know why you're going to go make contact with them.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I got it…waitaminute, say what?” he ran on, staring a little. The only reply he got was a flick of the wrist, and something small and yellow flying towards him. He caught it with one hand, and looked at it. “What's this thing do?”

 

“It's one of their communicators…you're going to need it when you get to the city.”

 

“I…see.” Static blinked a little, then pocketed it, this time in his pants, having learned before that he'd lose more stuff using his jacket pockets. He then floated back up in the air, and crouched on his saucer-shaped disk. “So, I'm pretty much guessing that you're staying out of this, right?”

 

“Not entirely. Just long enough so this…Slade…doesn't figure out I'm involved. I've heard rumors about him, not to mention what I've heard from Robin…he may be my equal, or greater….”

 

Static whistled, not used to hearing Batman talking like that about anyone, and crossed his arms over his chest again, now to ward off that creeping feeling he was having at the moment. “Uhm…sure is cold, huh?” he said, attempting small-talk with the older and more experienced hero next to him.

 

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Surprisingly, Batman went along with it, bending down into a crouch and checking some of the parts that had fallen onto the floor. His eyes narrowed again, which was never a good sign for anyone that happened to be on this man's mind. He pocketed the small piece he'd picked up, and stood, his cape closing around him and covering him in shadows once more. “To be honest, there's something…strange, about all this. I want you to be careful when you get there…anything could happen.”

 

Static nodded, then winced as a sudden beeping came from his left pants pocket. “Aww, man, not again…” he muttered under his breath, taking out a small cell-phone and answering it. He turned for a moment, and saw that he was alone. “Huh…oh, I'll be right home, Pops….” He replied to an unheard question, floating up and out of the warehouse, and started flying back home.