FDC Presents...

Issue #137, Dec., Yr.1
By Clay Arceneaux

The world was at war.

A coalition of aliens under the leadership of the resurrected despot Mongul had come to destroy the Earth for its heroes’ repeated interference in their various schemes of conquest. All over the globe, Gordian slavers, Thanagarian Hawkguards, Khundian cyborgs, and Branx warriors were swarming all over the major cities. But in one city in on the west coast of North America, that no longer mattered. An unnatural storm was forming over Los Angeles, California. Thick black clouds, trimmed in crimson, swirled outward, an icy wind howled through its streets, and lightning seemed to fill the skies. As evil and destructive as the alien invaders are, they had awakened something much more dangerous.

“I have had my belly full of your kind this day, murderer of children.”

The eerie voice boomed through the souls of the inhabitants of LA, its defenders and its invaders. It issued from a growing birdlike shape, a shape that grew darker each passing second until it was blacker than the deepest void of space. She was Raven; hero, empath, healer, pacifist, and the daughter of one of the most powerful and demonic creatures the underworld had ever spawned. Through her, her father’s evil had almost claimed the entire universe on several occasions. But largely through the efforts Raven’s teammates in the Titans, and her own strength of will, it was thought that Trigon’s evil had finally been destroyed.

“Tonight,” A bone-chilling feral scream erupted from Raven’s soul-self as it expands to fill the sky. “Tonight I will teach you the meaning of terror, little mortal!”

“Oh this can’t be good.” Roy Harper, the bow-wielding hero known as Arsenal, muttered as he watched with growing dread. Raven was his teammate and friend, but her evil side had also tried very hard to kill him. “Titans, get ready… on my mark…”

Something stayed his hand. Something didn’t feel right. Sure, anger and fury were rolling off Raven in waves, but in past encounters, the feelings were more… intense, all consuming, and were directed at all life everywhere. Now… now… somehow he knew it wasn’t directed at him, or his fellow Titans, and certainly not at civilians they’d been defending. No, today it was aimed squarely at aliens swarming over their world. Specifically, at the Hawkguard who had just callously murdered a young girl in front of them.

An inky black tendril swirled from the bottom of the giant black form. It knocked aside the Titan’s erstwhile ally, the winged alien Azrael, who had downed the murderous Thanagarian soldier. The tentacle then enveloped the prone, screaming Hawkguard. Energy crackled in its inky darkness, and in moments it deposited a charred, mutilated body where the invading alien had been. Azrael took wing and tried to fly up to Raven, trying to calm her. Though the storm raged around them, and bolts of lighting blasting alien ships from the heavens, it was with a noticeable degree of gentleness that Azrael is forced back down to the ground; gently, but very firmly.

Observing all this, Arsenal was even more torn what to do. Sure, if Raven had gone bad again, then whole planet was in danger. But then, the whole planet was already in danger from the invading alien forces. Forces that Raven seemed singularly bent on destroying. Screams from a few streets over snapped Arsenal’s focus. Rushing toward the sound, Arsenal and his team found a squad of Gordians had herded some of the retreating civilians together. The reptilians were trying to yell over the howling winds for Raven to stand down or they would slaughter more innocents.

“I will kill them, Bird-Witch! I will kill them all if you do not surrender!” the Gordian in the fanciest helmet roared.

“I don’t think so, lizard-lips!” Arsenal quipped, his mind made up about which was the more immediate threat. “Titans GO!”

High above the battle below, two of Arsenal’s teammates tensely waited for the lift they were riding to reach its destination. Disguised as a Gordian, the emerald shape-shifter Changeling shifted his borrowed shoulder guards uncomfortably. By his side, an equally disguised Cyborg stood nearly motionless, appearing every bit like a Khund warrior. Their disguises had gotten them this far through the bustling corridors of the Citadel flagship. But now their destination was close: the upper observation deck where the evil ruler of the Citadel was keeping two of their other teammates, the alien powerhouse Starfire, and the crime fighting Nightwing, as captives. They had no idea how well guarded they’d be, or how long their disguises would how once they reached the top. A part of Changeling’s mind ached to crack a joke, to try and break the tension, but thinking they were probably being observed, he refrained.

With a jolt and hiss, the lift came to a stop and its doors opened. The two heroes stepped onto the wide catwalk suspended deep into the huge chamber. Almost the size of a football stadium, what appeared to be an empty troop staging area lay below them, all around only the support structures marred the view through the transparent dome. At the other end of the catwalk, suspended on either side, Starfire and Nightwing’s limp forms were strapped upright to large metallic “Y”s. The tattered remains of the suit Dick Grayson had worn to the Hawk-wedding just a few hours ago revealed his Nightwing costume beneath. Kory wore the “flex metal” hip-huggers and sports bra combo she’d taken to wearing when she went into action as Starfire these days. Only the jeweled brooch that marked her station as a Tamaranian princess had been ripped from her. Between them stood Blackfire, her features still looking like a harsh mirror of her captive sister. But Blackfire was now outfitted in a far more regal armor than they were used to seeing her in, for somehow this consummate schemestress had assumed control of the Citadel Empire. They could hear her angrily barking commands to someone on a view screen.

“She is supposed to be dead, admiral.” Blackfire raged. “Explain to me how a dead girl is decimating our forces.”

They were still too far away to make out the other side on the conversation, but as the two rescuers quickened their pace across the catwalk they definitely heard the words “bird-shaped”, “storm”, and “Angeles”.

“Fine. Fine.” Blackfire shook her head. “Just move us into position and we’ll blast the entire coastline from orbit. I am tired of playing with these primitives.”

“But Empress Komand’r,” the voice objected. ” Mongul said no bombardments, he wants as many alive for his final phase as…”

“Mongul is my ally, not my master.” Blackfire’s eyes crackled with the dark energies that gave her the name. “I, however, am yours. Follow my orders! I want that miserable witch destroyed once and…” Blackfire noticed the Khund and Gordian moving toward her. “What is this? I am taking no audiences now. Tell your Khund masters I will deal with this witch problem shortly and that I regret necessity of the Khunds we must sacrifice in the effort.” Komand’r dismissed them, turning back to her viewscreen. “Now run along.”

“Actually, we just stopped in to pick up a couple of friends.” Cyborg raised his arm as his hand reconfigured itself into his white sound blaster. Before the surprised dictator could react, a burst of power sent her flying over the railing to the floor below. “Wish I could say it was nice to see ya again.”

“I’ve got them.” Changeling transformed from a Gordian into a giant green octopus and wrapped his tentacles around his barely conscious friends. “Looks like Kory’s been getting a good dose of “sisterly affection”. Dick’s got some pretty nasty burns too.”

“Had worse…” Nightwing replied weakly, “fighting the Penguin. Kory?”

“I’ve been worse.” Starfire tried to smile. “She’s losing her touch.”

“Gimme a sec.” Cyborg replied as his armor shifted to its normal appearance. “I’ll hack in and pop the locks.”

“Might want to shut down the weapon systems while you’re in there.”

“Nah, ya think?” Cyborg’s hands seemed to merge with the console beneath the viewscreen. “Okay lock’s are open. Gonna take a little time to kill the guns.”

“Time you will never receive, little robot!” Blackfire roared as she flew over them.

“I knew her being at least knocked out from a several story fall was asking too much.” Changeling sighed as his tentacles swept Nightwing and Starfire behind him. With a thought he changed into a gigantic turtle. Black energy blasts pounded his shell, but to no avail.

“Hey Salad-head!” Cyborg called. Peeking around with his great turtle’s neck, Gar saw Cyborg, still interfaced with the ships computer, a force screen deflecting Blackfire’s deadly energy. Vic continued. “It’s taking a lot of processor power to hack the weapons systems, can’t keep going and keep the shield up.”

“All these upgrades and you still can’t multi-task.” Changeling smiled. “Should have bought a Mac to begin with.”

From a huge turtle, Gar became a tiny green humming bird and zoomed toward the angry alien. From behind him, a flash of destructive light zipped at his target as well. Blackfire pivoted mid air and avoided Starfire’s blast, and returned fire. Finding strength from somewhere, Nightwing scooped Starfire into his arms and flipped both of them out of harms way. So focused was Komand’r on her escaped sister that she did not notice Changeling’s tiny approach. But immediately he noticed what was keeping his opponent aloft. Becoming a tiny insect, Gar zipped into a small opening in Blackfire’s boot. In the next instant Blackfire felt intense pressure and pain in her ankle. Her boot erupted and shattered revealing a green foot-long crab like creature, its claws biting into her lower leg.

“Jet-boots?” the crab-thing mocked. “Come on, Kommy, that’s cheating.”

Struggling to remain aloft, Blackfire tired in vain to blast the creature, but it had already become a small bird.

“But hey, you still got your cape.” The bird snatched the cape in his claws and circled around toward her head and shoulders. “And I’ve always admired how well you can pull this off. Not everyone can, you know.”

The cape soon wrapped itself around the Dictator’s face, pinning one arm in its folds. Gar switched into bulldog, gripping the cape in his mouth as gravity pulled him down yanking his opponent with him. With a scream of rage Blackfire released an omni-directional blast that shredded her cape, but the Changeling was now an insect and rode the wave to safety. But Gar had done enough to destabilize Blackfire’s flight that she was forced to land again on the catwalk. She was met instantly with another starbolt from her sister. Starfire fired again, but now Blackfire countered her strike, the two women’s energy blasts pushing against each other in a now familiar contest of power. It was a contest Starfire usually lost. Tired from her ordeal, Starfire began to waver under the strain of keeping her sister’s power at bay. Nightwing moved to steady her, and ready to pull her out of the way should she fail. Bolstered by her former lover’s support, Starfire pushed with all the strength she had left. The smile on Komand’r’s face told Starfire it wasn’t enough. The power Blackfire was bringing to bear seemed to double, and the meeting point between the two energies raced backward towards Starfire and Nightwing.

“Guess who?” Asked a green frog which had suddenly appeared on the ridge of Blackfire’s narrow nose, placing webbed feet over her eyes.

The distraction was enough. Blackfire’s concentration broken, Starfire’s starbolts now flashed forward and struck her older sibling square in her armored chest, driving Blackfire back hard against the catwalk’s far rail. The frog of course had leaped clear and bounded over to where their fallen foe was struggling to regain her feet. In midair, the frog became a green kangaroo, which then kicked the villainess over the rail. Then again Changeling bounded after her.

“By the way,” the kangaroo smiled and transformed into a hippo. “This is going to sting a bit.”

Far below, in the storm-swept battleground of LA, Troia and Tempest watched in horror as Raven’s immense black form rained destruction on the invading alien forces.

“I thought you guys helped destroy “Evil Raven” long while back.” Tempest yelled above the howling winds.

“We did.” Troia stared up in the dark, bird-shaped form. “Trigon is dead, and we destroyed something we hoped was the last piece of himself Trigon had placed within Raven. But if we were wrong… Hera help us, the planet under siege, our force scattered and already engaged, we don’t have the power left to fight this too.”

“Cover me a sec…” The former Aqualad closed his eyes in concentration and muttered a few words of the ancient Atlantean magic he was now working to master.

Donna Troy continued to watch the sky. They had noted when Raven’s black form first appeared that she was directing her power against the invading aliens, not the humans on the ground. But if this was Raven’s dark side back again, it was only a matter of time before that changed. Still… something was different this time. Donna had faced Raven every time Raven had been taken over by her father’s evil. Trigon’s evil was an almost tangible air of depravity, malice, and despair. It hung in the air when Raven was possessed before, like the stench of rotting flesh. Troia didn’t feel that same oppressive force this time. What Donna did feel when she gazed up at her empathic friend’s shadowy mass was anger and frustration crashing down like waves.

“Donna,” Tempest broke Troia’s contemplation. “Donna you’ve got to get up there and calm her down. I don’t think her father is back, but if she keeps going Raven will lose all control and start hurting innocents.”

“Garth, are you sure you’ll be…” Troia began.

“Move it, Wonder-chick.” Tempest smiled. “Whatever else she’s doing, she’s certainly put a hurting the bad guys down here. I’ll try to link back up with Roy and the gang. And hey, if things get too rough,” Garth motions over his shoulder, “the ocean’s right over there.”

“Alright,” Troia smiled faintly at her old friend. “Be careful.”

“You too,” Garth replied as Troia rocketed upwards into the stormy skies.

Troia flew through the raging winds towards the dark form’s “head”. In vain she tried to call to Raven, pleading with her to at least respond to her, but the sounds of wind and lighting drowned out her words. Her brow furrowed as Donna realized there was only one way she was going to be able to communicate with Raven in this maelstrom. Troia took a grim, deep breath and plunged deep into Raven’s ebon soul-self.

Far below, Tempest watched helplessly as Troia disappeared into the huge black bird-shadow. “Somehow that is not what I had in mind.” Garth thought to himself. “But then, here I was all confident about taking care of myself, and I’m standing here barefoot in my dress slacks, in an unfamiliar town, in the middle of a war and no way to contact the others. My telepathy is strong enough these days I could probably reach Omen, if Raven wasn’t generating so much empathic “noise”. So Shirtless-Man, what’s plan B?”

As if to answer his unspoken question, the sounds of fighting a few blocks inland caught Garth’s attention. Quickly the Atlantean Titan ran towards the cries of panicked civilians, firing blasters, and an oddly familiar buzz. Rounding a corner, Tempest saw a young woman floating above the street clad in an armored, bee themed costume. She was shepherding a mother and child across the rubble-strewn street, toward a larger gathering of civilians.

“Bumblebee!” Tempest called out to his former teammate.

“Aqualad?!?” Bumblebee hollered back in surprise. “Look out!”

A few yards beyond them the ground erupted. A huge Khund cyborg sent pavement flying as he rose back to his feet. Again, the familiar sound of Bumblebee’s wing-generated sonic disrupters fill the air, although now their energy seemed to be focused through Bumblebee’s arms and out her gauntlets in almost visible waves. The Khund braced himself as the sonic force struck his defensively upheld arms, but weathered the blast relatively unmoved.

“I am Henkor, War Leader of the 9th host!” The Khund roared. “Neither your primitive sonic weapon, nor your black witch will stop me from having my fill of conquest this day!”

Extending his robotic arm, a panel on his forearm opened and a small missile launcher rose into position. With a smile the alien invader aimed it, not at the heroine, but at the non-combatants beyond her. With a gasp, Bumblebee moved to place herself in the line of fire. A split second before the deadly projectile fully left its launcher, the cyborg found his arm, missile and all, completely incased in ice. On cue, Bumblebee fired another blast of sonic force at the frozen forearm, detonating the trapped explosive. Staggering back down to his knee, Henkor stared wild-eyed at his now missing forearm. With their opponent stunned, Tempest leapt the several yards between them and battered the Khund’s exposed organic face with all his ocean-spawned strength. The much larger War Leader knocked Tempest away with his remaining arm, and tried to drive a robotic foot down onto the prone Atlantean. Garth caught the foot before it completely fell. Years of thriving in the ocean’s depths had made Tempest many times stronger than the average human, but Garth found he could not do more than prevent the massive cyborg from crushing him.

From behind him, Tempest heard another strange sound blare above the storm, and a brightly colored, disk-shaped hole opened in the air itself behind the Khund War Leader. Before either hero or villain could fully realize what was happening, a figure rushed the mostly artificial alien, slamming hard into its armored chest with a golden, badge-shaped shield. The blow knocked Henkor mostly off balance, and Tempest added his strength to his barely seen partner’s momentum to push the cyborg into the glowing disk. A howl of surprise issued from the depths of the disk as it collapsed, immediately after the alien passed through it.

“Thanks, man,” Tempest took the familiar hand offered by the shield-bearer to help him to his feet. “So is it Guardian or Herald this time around?”

Clad in a clearly unfinished exo-suit, the dark-skinned man smiled broadly as he helped the Atlantean to his feet. Listing his golden half helmet a little, the slightly overweight man wiped some sweat from his dark skin and let’s out a heavy sigh.

“Man, I don’t know,” Mal Duncan finally replied to his former teammate. “Not like I was planning to come out of retirement today. But BB and me, we can’t just sit on the sidelines with all this going on.”

“I understand,” Tempest nodded, as the two men moved back up the street to where Bumblebee was checking on the huddled crowd. Gesturing to the odd metal tube hanging by Mal’s side, Garth asked “New Horn?”

“Yeah, compared to the old one it’s pretty limited, just opens spatial warps with a couple mile range,” Mal took the new Gabriel Horn from his belt and gestured with it to his wife’s buzzing armor. “You know how Karen loves to tinker.”

“Bumblebee,” Karen Duncan’s dark face frowned at her husband. “Good to see you, Aqualad. Neat trick with the ice.”

“Thanks. Just some magic I picked up when I stopped calling myself Aqualad,” Garth teased his old friend. “But seriously, how can I help?”

“Well, we were using Herald’s horn to transport these people to relative safety since Raven has most of these freaks occupied,” Bumblebee replied, regaining her composure. “According to the police band, Speedy and some of the others have helped secure an area east of here, and the authorities are trying to make a stand there. Why are you shaking your head and smiling?”

“This has just been a very weird day,” Tempest sighed, genuinely amused as the coincidences piled up. “Where did you send our playmate by the way, Herald?”

Before the helmeted hero could respond, a whistling noise cut through the air and something crashed hard into the sandy deserted shoreline several hundred yards away.

“Couple of miles up,” Mal smiled broadly. “Shall we go?”

The interior bulkheads of the orbiting Citadel flagship shuddered under an unseen attack. For the last several minutes, the small band of Titans had heard pounding and blaster fire uselessly striking the doors to the upper observation deck. They had managed to seal them tight after defeating Blackfire, and they’d disabled the lift Changeling and Cyborg had used to get in themselves. “Disabled”, meaning Gar had gone “Ankylosaur” and smashed it. But whatever struck the main down just then had shaken the ship through to the deck plates.

“Did that sound bigger to you?” Changeling frowned.

“Ground siege cannon. M’ltek class at least,” Starfire’s frown echoed Gar’s. “That door won’t hold long.”

“Not to complain, Victor,” Nightwing looked at the viewscreen above the computer consol his cybernetic teammate had plugged into. He could read a little Tamaranian, as well as some Citadel common, but the symbols racing across the screen made absolutely no sense to him. “But we are running out of time. How much longer?”

“It does not matter if you are successful, robot,” Blackfire hissed from her restraints. “within moments my troops will flood this chamber and I will enjoy watching them slaughter you like the vermin you are.”

“Man, do all you would-be conquerors use the same writers?” Gar asked as he flew up from the deck floor below to the catwalk above, carrying the still-wounded Starfire in his pterodactyl’s claws. “I swear Brother Blood used that same line couple of weeks back.”

“I will not forget this day, green one,” Blackfire stared at Changeling through her swollen eye. “Mark my words, I will see you pay personally.”

“Big talk from the witch who just got her tail whipped on her own ship,” Changeling smiled. “Not enjoying your turn in being strung up? It’s the same rig you had you sister in, so it should be a nice fit at least.”

“Seriously,” Nightwing interrupted as another blast shook the decks. “Cyborg, how long does it take to disable the main weapons?”

“Hm?” Cyborg turned to face his friend, only half paying attention to what he was saying. “The weapons? Aw, hell, man, I shut those down a while ago.”

“Then what have you been doing the last 20 minutes, playing Halo on their mainframe?”

“Tempting, but no,” Cyborg smiled. “After I shut down the big guns here, I expanded on those sequences into more of a viral code and tapped into the main com systems. That virus spread through the entire Citadel fleet, and even a few of their allied ships, and disabled those weapons systems as well. Unfortunately I was only able to take out the really big guns on the Citadel ships, their mid-sized, ship-to-ship grade weapons are all on a different system with a ton of redundancies and manual controls, and it doesn’t look like I’ve got time to hack around all that now. Good news is today’s scheduled orbital bombardment has been canceled.”

“That’s great work, Vic,” Nightwing shook his head. “Can you take a look at the ship’s interior? Find us a maintenance duct or something to get around these troops at all the main exits? I can’t speak for Kory, but I would rather not have to fight my way out of here.”

“Maintenance duct?” Victor Stone grinned all the wider, a twinkle in his brown eye. “Please, give me a little credit, Bird-Boy.”

Below the catwalk the main doors exploded inward in a hail of shattered metal, and scores heavily armed Branx warriors rushed forward to secure the room. But all they found inside was their enraged and battered Empress shackled into a torture rack on the catwalk above. A flash of light had whisked the Titans away just a second before.

Instantly on the other end of the ship, the four friends reappeared inside the cabin of a small spacecraft within the ship’s rear hanger.

“Maintenance duct, phssssh!” Cyborg chuckled. “All warmed up, and ready to launch.”

“I recognize these; we flew little ships like this when we attacked the Citadel throne world the first time with the Omega Men,” Nightwing stared around him at the surprisingly familiar setting.

“Is that right? Huh. What are the odds?” Vic teased as gestured to the front of the small cabin. “Then you remember where the driver’s seat is?”

“Right,” Nightwing smiled back. “Okay, if I remember this layout… Vic, I need you on engineering, Gar, you got long range sensors and comm., Kory…”

“I’ve got tactical.” Starfire finished for him as the Titans took their seats.

“Dude, looks like the cavalry showed up while we were in here,” Changeling added as he looked at his console. “We’ve got multiple human sized targets out there tearing into the fleet. Nasty heavy fire from all points.”

“We’re pretty high up too.” Cyborg took a look over Gar’s shoulder. “I’m not sure we could make it all the way to the ground through all that. We gotta find somewhere closer we could go.”

“And quickly,” Starfire interrupted. “It will not take the Blackfire’s men long to figure out where we went.”

“Good point. Hang on then,” Nightwing engaged the small fighter’s engines and smoothly guided the craft into open space.

Outside the craft, Earth’s defenders bravely battered their way deep into the assembled invasion fleet. Laser fire seemed to be everywhere. Cyborg was right, with the battle raging between them and the Earth below, there was little hope of making it back to Earth.

“Oh $#!^.” Changeling exclaimed. “I was trying to see LA, see how the others were doing, but look!”

Changeling punched a key that brought his scan image up on everyone’s monitor. The image of a huge, violent storm swirling over the city of Los Angeles. A storm with an ominous colossal black bird rising from its center.

For a long moment no one moved or spoke. Starfire felt a tear roll down her face, then quickly fought herself for control.

“Nightwing,” She broke their silence sharply. Nightwing did not respond, staring down at the monitor. “Dick, where are we headed?”

From the view port a streak of blue and red raced past their line of sight, driving itself into and through one of the big Khund Warships. The distant explosion seemed to jar the other Titans back to their present plight.

“The Moon,” Nightwing responded, his eyes straining to follow the tiny blue streak as it hurdled towards another ship. “We’ll head for the Watchtower. We’ll find some help there, and maybe use their transporters to get down. I just hope Donna and Roy can handle what’s going on down there till we can join them.” Nightwing whipped the small fighter in line with Earth’s natural satellite and opened the throttle to full. “Please Lord in Heaven, please, please, don’t let that be what it looks like down there. I’m not sure I can face that again right now.”

“Raven!” Trioa cried as loud as she could at the blackness around her. “Raven, I know you can hear me. You know I’m here. I need you to talk to me.”

“And I know what you want me to do, Donna Troy,” The blackness replied.

“Then please, you have to stop this,” Troia called out.

“No, Donna. That is not what you really want,” Raven’s voice came from everywhere. “I see your mind, I see your heart. You want to hurt these monsters as much as I do. You wish to strike them over and over until the fury in your soul is released.”

“You’re right, Raven. They are monsters,” Donna said. “But we have never become monsters ourselves to try and fight them. It’s not who we are. It’s not who you are.”

“And who am I, Donna Troy? A weak woman who has sat idly by for years watching more and more people, more friend and family die while I was too afraid to act!” Raven’s mental voice howled. Donna’s mind was overwhelmed by images from Ravens life, people from her mother Arella to Azar, to Jericho, right on down to the girl the Thanagarian just took hostage that Raven had failed to save. “I am sick of it, Donna Troy, and I do not have to meekly accept it. Not when I have the power strike back.”

“Raven, listen to me,” Donna began. “Yes, you have power. You have always had unbelievable power. You are without question one of the most powerful people I’ve ever known, and I have walked among gods. But it’s not your empathic abilities, or your mystic skills. It’s your self control, your restraint, your meekness, your ability to hold back the raging darkness that’s been a part of you. You’ve always stuck to your convictions, even when it’s been hard to. That’s not weakness, Raven, that’s strength. You want into my mind, go ahead. Take a long look. See how much you friends care about you. How worried we are about you. And how much we admire your strength.”

Within the darkness, the roar of the winds beyond seemed to lessen. Troia felt Raven’s presence in her mind. Donna could sense Raven’s anger giving way to uncertainty.

“Sweetheart, this isn’t you. This isn’t your idea of strength and power,” Donna continued to push. “It’s your father’s. Raven, you’ve fought so long and so hard not to be like him. Please don’t give that all up now.”

“I am not my father!” Raven shot back. “I am not Trigon! I am not! He was a monster who harmed the innocent! I am fighting monsters to protect the innocent!”

“Raven, if you don’t stop this storm you’re going to be the one harming innocents who are trapped between you and these invaders.” Troia countered. “You don’t want to be your father? Fine. Stop this storm. You want to drive off these monsters? Wonderful. But I can’t let you put innocent people at risk to do it. I can’t let you violate everything you’ve ever stood for.”

The inky blackness that surrounded Troia began to lighten to grey. Within moments, Donna found herself floating back outside Raven’s soul-self. The winds had died down, the lightning had ceased, though the clouds remained. Raven’s bird-like form had returned to human proportions and floated before her teammate.

“I am not my father,” Raven repeated firmly. “I will not become him. No innocent will be harmed by my actions. I am not him.”

“I know, sweetie,” Donna placed her hand on her friend’s ‘cheek’. “I know.”

“Donna, I…” Raven stammered.

“Shhh,” Donna tried to embrace Raven’s immaterial form. “Come on now, our friends still need our help. Let’s get down to them.”

“See, I told you Donna could talk her down,” Tempest gestured up into the clearing skies.

“Glad you were right, Fish-stick,” Arsenal sighed. With a crackle, the de facto leader of this ad-hoc Titans team stretched his neck and tried to loosen up. He watched as Troia flew closer and closer to them, Raven’s again white soul-self just behind her. Arsenal turned the third man standing with him, ironically the only one of the three in full costume. “You sticking around, Wing-head?”

“Wish I could,” The Crimson Comet known as the Flash shook his head. “I’m supposed to be helping Bats defend the tower. But I saw Raven on the monitor and I had to make sure that… well…”

“I am not ending the world today,” Raven drifted to the ground, her ‘head’ lowered in shame. “I am glad you are here, Wallace.”

“Goes double,” Troia hugged her old friend, noting the worried look on his face. “Can’t stay?”

“I literally have to run. Bats will have me stuck on monitor duty for a month if he realizes I snuck out,” Flash smiled weakly, looking from Titan to Titan. “But at a moment like this, family comes first, right?” Looking at Garth’s battered slacks, and the tee-shirt and jeans Roy was sporting, Flash asked “So can I get you anything on my way out?”

“I could use some more…” Roy began, looking over his shoulder at his nearly empty quiver. His former teammate disappeared in a streak of red and a gust of wind before Arsenal finished his sentence. Two near-instantaneous gusts of wind later, Arsenal’s quiver was refilled and several boxes filled with arrows sat on the ground in front of him. “…arrows.” On top of the boxes sat the crimson domino mask that Arsenal wore for many years as Speedy. Replacing his sunglasses with his mask, Arsenal called out to the empty air, “Wise-@$$!”

Minutes later, Arsenal had reassembled his teammates in a make shift command center that the LAPD had set up. He took a second to look over his motley troops. Damage and Flamebird had finally replaced their tattered street clothes for blue police coveralls. Terra and Herald both looked equally unkempt in their makeshift costumes. Azrael had taken some of the armor from the fallen Thanagarians, his white feathered wings and long purple hair clearly distinguishing him from their foes. Tempest was in full costume somehow. (Must’ve been a magic thing, Roy didn’t know, didn’t much care.) Bumblebee adjusted the large goggles of her back and gold armor. Lil’s face was again hidden within the black shadows of the Omen hood. Raven hung to the back, her head still down. Troia had promised to keep an eye on her, but when the fighting restarted… Anyway, they one thing they all had in common was they looked tired. And it was about to get worse.

“Okay guys, listen up,” Roy took a deep breath and tried to settle his own racing mind. “Raven put a hurting on these guys, a bad one. But there are still plenty left out there, and Raven’s actions pretty much put a bull’s-eye on L.A. for who’s left. The uniforms are saying we’ve got several enemy units heading this way. Now we’ve got wounded in the hospital across the street, and in the parking garage behind me. We’ve got several thousand civilians in around as well. Cops and the National Guard guys are going to back us up, but we’ve got point. We are going to stop them. We are going to protect these people. Herald, the Lieutenant tells me there are more Guardsman on the way, coordinate with them, get them here quick as you can. But be ready, if this all goes south, I am going to need as many people out as we can get. Bumblebee, Flamebird, you’re with him. No arguments, FlameBird. The rest of us are going to hold this line. “

“Arsenal…” Omen began.

“We must hurry,” Raven finished.

“Confirmed!” A guardsman replied, his hand clasped over his radio earpiece. “We have incoming! East-Northeast!”

“Az! Troia! Move!” Arsenal commanded. “Raven, back them up! Terra, we need a ride!”

His teammates responded quickly. Troia, Azrael, and Raven had already disappeared from sight as the other Titans boarded the floating pavement chunk Terra had summoned for them. As the rock rose into the sky, they could see flashes of battle before them. Whipping between the buildings, Azrael engaged in an aerial duel with a pair Hawkguards being backed up by a rifle wielding Tamaranian dressed in the battle uniform of the Citadel. Troia faced a Tamaranian too. But though the bronze skinned alien was as quick and agile in the air as Starfire, he clearly lacked her warrior’s skill. Trioa easily deflected his every shot and redirected them so they struck the Hawks and jetpack wearing Gordians that accompanied him. Realizing what was happening, the Tamaranian’s pause gave Troia the opening she needed to close the gap between them and drive the startled invader unconscious from the sky. Raven hovered over the assembled ground forces below them, the blasts of Branx, Khund, and Gordian harmlessly disappearing into her birdlike form.

Azrael was not having as much luck as his female teammates. The nimble Tamaranian made the winged warrior feel slow and clumsy in the sky. Azrael’s stolen Gordian “power-staff” had helped him dispatch both of the Thanagarians who tailed him, but in truth, the over eager Tamaranian had provided a distracting shot for him. But try as he might, it seemed all he could do was avoid the ever-closing blasts as he hugged close to the buildings. From around a corner, three more Hawks glided into view, closing fast. Azrael blocked an axe-like weapon’s strike with his staff, and used his attacker’s momentum to spin the Hawk into the nearby structure. Quickly he brought the staff back around, striking the second Hawk in the unprotected chin, sending the big man spiraling toward the ground. Azrael then spun the staff into its firing position and in a flash of light dropped the third Hawkguardsman. But in the rush of melee, he had momentarily forgotten the Tamaranian who quietly lined up a perfect kill-shot. Azrael tried to bring his own weapon to bear, but was certain he would be too slow. To both their amazement, a thin shaft zipped through the air and pierced the rifle’s “clip”. The next instant, the weapon exploded in the surprised Tamaranian’s hands. Azrael followed with a blast of his staff weapon, knocking the bronze alien from the sky. Azrael turned to thank his leader, but Arsenal’s attention was already directed towards the alien troops Raven was distracting.

“Let’s get, Rocky!” Arsenal cried as he let five arrows fly from his bow.

On Arsenal’s cue, Terra used her power over the earth to lift the chunks of debris, both large and small, that littered the streets, and sent them whizzing into the enemy ranks like an enormous shotgun blast. Arsenal sent arrow after arrow into the crowd as well. Striking with surgical precision, Arsenal chose his shots and choice of trick arrow carefully, yet moved at a dizzying pace. Damage released energy from his fingertips, lacking both the precision of his leader, or Terra’s scattershot capabilities, he concentrated of making sure none of the aliens looked like they were going to close position. For his part, Tempest sat crossed-legged behind his teammates, his eyes closed in deep concentration.

“When you said “I’ve got an idea”, Fish-sticks, I thought you’d have something other than yoga practice in mind.” Arsenal quipped, a note of mock irritation in his voice.

“And the more you distract me, Robin Hood, the longer this will take.” Tempest peeked up at his old friend.

Before Arsenal could reply, an unconscious Gordian fell to the ground, barely missing the pair. A quick upward scan revealed Troia furiously pounding another Gordian and a Hawkguardsman above them, striking with casual brutality her teammates had never seen from her before. Arsenal watched for a moment, concerned that yet another of his teammates seemed to be cracking under the current pressure. His thoughts were snapped back to the grim task at hand as a road near them erupted in flames from an enemy’s incendiary weaponry. Even as he nocked a fire-extinguishing arrow, Omen’s eyes glowed from her the shadow of her black hood. With a gesture, the flames raced along the ground and into the invading horde, well away from the assembled Titans.

“Roy, try and herd as many as you can directly over that next intersection and keep them there a minute or two,” Tempest called to their de facto leader.

“You heard the fish-man, let’s herd!” Arsenal shouted as he let a pair of explosive tipped arrows fly. “Lil, let the fliers know what we’re doing.”

“I am,” Omen replied telepathically.

With force fields and force bolts, high-tech arrows and low tech rocks, the Titans strained their skills to try to keep the invaders pinned down, despite being heavily outnumbered. They had been largely successful, mostly because they were keeping the aliens off balance and disorganized. But within the invaders’ ranks, the militaristic Khunds were beginning to whip the alien ground forces back into shape. The invader’s fire was becoming less and less random, and the Titans knew they were going to have to switch tactics soon or be overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

“Garth?!?” Arsenal called back to his longtime teammate.

In response, the Atlantean Titan only smiled. The street beneath the herded horde then erupted from below as a huge surge of sea water rushed upward from the storm drains below. The enormous gusher swirled into the air like a watery tornado, catching up the all the invading aliens in its path. Terra took advantage of the shattered pavement, commanding the stones sweep and spin along with Tempest’s water spout, forcing even more of the now-fleeing invaders into the vortex. Then, Omen used her pyrokinetic powers to cause the fires she’d been commanding to grow, and added searing flames to the fearsome elemental storm. Within frightening seconds, most of the assembled alien force disappeared into the swirling vortex. And then, and violently as it appeared, the water rushed back down into shattered streets, taking its prey with them.

“Okay… Never mind me. You just do your thing,” Arsenal nodded after a long pause. “That was pretty darn nasty, Aqua-socks. Nice work.”

“Thanks,” Tempest breathlessly replied. “Sorry that took so long to setup. Took longer than I thought to build enough water pressure.”

“No, no. That was fine,” Arsenal replied, perhaps fully realizing for the first time how powerful his old friend had become. “Scary as hell, but fine.”

“Garth that was amazing!” Troia cried as she landed next to the still seated Atlantean.

“Thanks… really,” Tempest smiled, still struggling for breath. With a gesture the young sorcerer caused one of the remaining puddles of sea water to flow up and over his face and Garth inhaled deeply. “Muuuch better. Anyway I hope it’s just stragglers from here on out. I don’t want to try anything that big again for a while.”

“I am afraid we have no such luxury,” Azrael descended back into the street. “I followed some of the retreating forces. They hooked up with even more of their kind. The next wave looks bigger, better organized, and they’ve got some mobile artillery backing them up.”

“And of course, they’re heading this way,” Damage groaned.

“Always are,” Arsenal nodded. “Okay Titans, looks like we’re in for a long day. We hit ‘em. We hit ‘em hard. Watch each other’s backsides, ‘cause I ain’t losin’ anybody today. And nobody, NOBODY gets past us. Got it?”

Before anyone could answer, shots began to ring through the air as the first warriors of the next wave of invaders came into view. “Titans Together!”

Concluded in Cold Armageddon – Final Fury!

And then come back here as we pick up the pieces Next Issue!