Teen Titans Fan Fiction ❯ Teen Titans: Future Storm ❯ Side Story 12: Rogue State ( One-Shot )

 

“Teen Titans: Future Storm”

Side Story 12: “Rogue State”

Disclaimer: The concept of Teen Titans belongs to DC Comics and Warner Brothers, not me. The characters Nightstar, Blackfire, and Ryand'r do not belong to me; they are the property of DC Comics and Warner Brothers. Galfore is also the property of DC Comics and Warner Brothers, although more Warner Brothers than DC Comics since he appeared in the TV series and not in the comics. Mercury is the property of Marvel and DC via their Amalgam project. Everyone else is mine.

Author's note: This is a story I've wanted to do for a while. The way it's supposed to work is that it'll get closure for Nightstar and Bladefire concerning their mother Starfire's death. Any more details would spoil the story and I'd prefer to leave some surprises for you. Anyway, read and enjoy.

Nightstar and Bladefire flew through the cold vacuum of space, rocketing through the universe at light speed. As they flew, they passed by various galaxies and planets, deftly avoiding any passing starships.

They were on their way to Tamaran, and Nightstar found herself remembering why.

The day had been just another day. Train, finish rebuilding the city, and stomp a few bad guys.

Until Ryand'r - Nightstar and Bladefire's uncle - sent a transmission to Titans Tower.

“Mar'i, Joh'n, I need your help,” he said.

“For what, Uncle Ryand'r?” Nightstar asked.

“I cannot say,” Ryand'r replied. “Not this way. You will have to come to me. To Tamaran.”

“Understood,” Bladefire said. “We're on our way.”

The transmission ended there.

The half-Tamaranean siblings were finally within sight of Tamaran. It was a luminescent white orb streaked and blotched with pink. They flew closer, speeding through the atmosphere until they penetrated it and entered the surface of the planet.

The twins flew over the surface of the planet, seeing equal parts wasteland, forest, and meadow. The wasteland became more dominant the closer they flew to the palace, but even there life bloomed.

When they arrived at the palace, they were greeted by a small platoon of Tamaranean warriors, headed by Blackfire. The eldest of the Tamaranean royal family was garbed in a black brassiere-like garment and loincloth, although the loincloth had more material in the back than the front. Knee-high armored boots adorned her feet, black bracers with embedded purple gems adorned her forearms, and a neck-guard with a purple gem embedded rested on her shoulders. A Tamaranean warrior mark, shaped vaguely like an “S,” rested below her left eye.

“Nightstar, Bladefire,” she greeted. “It's good to see you again.”

“Likewise, Aunt Komand'r,” Nightstar answered.

“Come in,” Blackfire said. “Of course, we'll have to get you better clothes.”

“Sure,” Bladefire murmured.

Blackfire and her warriors escorted the siblings into the palace, where they were whisked off to fitting rooms. When they came out, they were attired in Tamaranean garb. Nightstar wore an extremely small purple-edged black top and four-part armored skirt with a white half-cape flowing from the back, thigh-high purple-edged black boots, purple bracers with embedded green gems, and a neck-guard with an embedded green gem. Bladefire wore a light indigo sleeveless top and skintight black pants with light indigo-and-black boots, silver bracers with embedded indigo gems, and a neck-guard with an embedded indigo gem.

“You look great,” Blackfire remarked.

“Thanks,” Nightstar replied.

“Oh, it's you,” a voice greeted sardonically. “I almost thought I'd never see you again.”

Nightstar and Bladefire turned to see what appeared to be a teenaged version of Blackfire, only with striking blue eyes in place of violet and dressed in an extremely small black top similar to Nightstar's and black shorts that only covered a third of her thighs with knee-high black boots, silver bracers with embedded purple gems, and a neck-guard with an embedded purple gem. Like Blackfire, this girl wore a Tamaranean warrior mark underneath her left eye, this one shaped like a right-facing parenthesis but sharper.

“Rhiand'r,” Nightstar greeted. “It's been too long.”

“Not long enough, honestly,” Rhiand'r contradicted.

“Anyway, it's about time we brought you two to Ryand'r,” Blackfire said.

The four came to the meeting chamber, where Ryand'r - the spitting image of Starfire, only male and with somewhat spiked hair - was in a meeting with the Royal Council, Galfore being among the council. The hulking warrior took notice of Nightstar and Bladefire, immediately rising to lunge at the twins . . . only to begin tickling them, eliciting helpless laughter from both.

“My little bumgorfs,” he murmured. “It is so good to see you again.”

“And it's good to see you, Galfore,” Nightstar greeted, smiling warmly at the old warrior.

“Mar'i, Joh'n, it is very good seeing you again,” Ryand'r said, “although I wish it wasn't under these circumstances.”

“What's wrong?” Bladefire asked.

Ryand'r looked at his council and spoke. “I would like to be alone with my niece and nephew. You're dismissed for the moment.”

The councilors rose up and walked away, although each and every one of them paused to greet Nightstar and Bladefire. In Bladefire's case, the female councilors chose to flirt with him a bit, with comments like, “You are most definitely no longer a child,” or, “You will be a beautiful man soon.” Such comments were innocent enough in phrasing, but the edge with which they'd been spoken - along with the appraising glances - had proven them not so innocent.

Once the councilors were gone, Ryand'r began to speak.

“I have spent the past week fending off assassins,” Ryand'r replied. “They are all in containment chambers right now and all of them have refused to tell me who sent them. However, I suspect that they were sent by sympathizers of the insurgents that tried to take over Tamaran all those years ago. Unfortunately, I am unable to prove this.”

“Why bring us in?” Bladefire asked.

“Your father comes from a family - if that's what they style themselves to be - of detectives,” Ryand'r replied. “I know he and others in his family are excellent gatherers of information to solve crimes and I know they have passed on those skills to you. Therefore, I believe you can help me find the ones that seek my life and expose them.”

“Did you put any of them on the council by any chance?” Nightstar asked.

“Yes,” Ryand'r answered. “There are a few allegedly former sympathizers on the Royal Council. A necessary evil, for the sake of bridging ideological gaps. Converting enemies into allies can be more useful than simply eliminating them.”

Rhiand'r scoffed.

“Should have, to use the vernacular, slagged the lot of them,” she commented.

“That would have been an unnecessary taking of life,” Ryand'r stated.

“Unnecessary, my ass,” Rhiand'r sneered. “You were always soft, uncle. Isn't that why our beloved Koriand'r is no longer with us?”

Ryand'r's eyes flashed with rage.

“How dare you!” he exclaimed.

Blackfire placed a hand on Rhiand'r's shoulders, warning the younger female that she had gone too far.

Ryand'r collected himself before speaking again. He turned to Nightstar and Bladefire.

“I want you two to investigate my councilors.”

“All of them?” Nightstar asked.

“All of them,” Ryand'r confirmed. “Even Galfore.”

“Galfore would never betray us,” Bladefire stated.

“Besides, he's too loyal to the memory of Koriand'r to join up with the same people who killed her,” Blackfire added.

“I'll help,” Rhiand'r said. “I can read emotions through the body. I'll know if anyone's being evasive.”

“All right,” Ryand'r said. “The three of you will be working together on this. For now, I would suggest that Nightstar and Bladefire come to dinner with us.”

At dinner, various Tamaranean dishes were presented, all of them easily capable of disgusting a human. When the feast began, everyone present - even Nightstar and Bladefire - ate with savage gusto. If their father had been present, he would have certainly been as frightened as he had been when he'd first witnessed a Tamaranean feast.

“Ah, that was good,” Nightstar said, taking a swill of a Tamaranean drink comparable to Earth wine.

“Yes,” Bladefire agreed, drinking as well.

“And now it is time we all rested,” Ryand'r spoke. “Mar'i, Joh'n, Rhiand'r, Komand'r, Galfore, I will see you all tomorrow.” He called out to one of his servants, a young man dressed in a purple loincloth and little else. “Show Mar'i and Joh'n to their quarters.”

“Yes, my liege,” the young man answered. He turned to Nightstar and Bladefire. “Come.”

The young servant escorted the twins to their respective quarters.

“How . . . has my uncle been?” Nightstar asked him.

“The absence of Princess Koriand'r affects him deeply, even to this day,” the servant replied. “He celebrates her life, her nobility, her valiance - but her memory is no substitute for her presence.”

“I know,” Nightstar murmured.

“He misses the two of you,” the servant went on. “He has not seen either of you since that day and he wonders . . . if you have any antipathy toward this world.”

The twins looked at him.

“Princess Koriand'r died defending this world,” the servant expounded. “He would not blame you if you directed your anger at her death toward Tamaran.”

When neither twin said anything, he continued.

“Princess Koriand'r loved this planet, with a passion equal to that of the love she had for you both. Her last wish was that our goddess X'Hal look after the two of you and give you the strength to continue living, with or without her.”

He smiled. “Your quarters, my princess and prince.”

“Thank you,” Nightstar said. “Pleasant shlorvaks.”

“And may both of you have pleasant shlorvaks this night,” the servant responded before departing for his own quarters.

As soon as the servant was far out of sight, Nightstar and Bladefire departed in the opposite direction, moving swiftly and silently. Their particular aim was to find whatever passed for a database in the Tamaranean royal palace.

They found their way to the records room of the palace and began looking through the records, which were stored in what appeared to be an orb computer.

“Orb, cross-reference records of current Royal Councilors with records of known insurgents or insurgent sympathizers,” Bladefire commanded in perfect Tamaranean.

The orb faintly hummed as it examined the data at speeds unheard-of even in the most advanced Earthly computers. In mere moments it spat out five names - along with pictures.

“Tani'yr, Ay'n, Syri'n, Erasth'a, and Rena't,” Nightstar read from the screen.

“I think it's time we started talking to the prisoners,” Bladefire suggested.

By the time they reached the containment chambers, the twins found Rhiand'r interrogating one of the prisoners.

“You can tell me who sent you to kill Grand Emperor Ryand'r this instant and I'll go easy on you,” she hissed threateningly. “Or you can keep being a stubborn clorbag and I'll not go so easy on you.”

The prisoner glared at her in defiant silence.

“Fine,” Rhiand'r said. “If that's how you want it.”

Then she drew a Tamaranean lance and charged it with azure energy . . .

. . . right before plunging it into the prisoner's shoulder.

“Not screaming, huh?” Rhiand'r remarked. “That's all right. The expression on your face tells me how much that hurts, anyway. The way your body moves tells me how much it hurts. You can try not to scream, but I have all night. All gin'kfu night. See how long you last.”

“Rhiand'r!” Nightstar exclaimed.

“Oh, hi, Mar'i,” Rhiand'r greeted nonchalantly. “Say, would you help me interrogate this bastard?”

“Pull that lance out first,” Nightstar answered.

“I'm trying to get him to talk,” Rhiand'r said. “I can't get him to talk if I do it half-assed like you'd do it.”

“Never mind that,” Bladefire said. “Mar'i and I already have it narrowed down to five Royal Councilors. That's right; five out of twelve of the Royal Councilors are former supporters of the insurgency. I'm betting one of them hired this guy. Isn't that right?”

The prisoner turned his defiant glare upon Bladefire.

“Keep looking at me like that,” Bladefire said. “You're the one in there, and I'm out here.”

“It is one of them,” Rhiand'r said. “He knows damn well which one hired him and I'm going to find out which one it is.”

“We won't get it out of him by torturing him,” Nightstar said.

“No . . .” Rhiand'r agreed. “But I have other ways of persuading him.”

She straddled the prisoner, despite having the energy-laced lance still in his shoulder. A forbidding yet sensuous smile crossed her features as she began to rub herself against him like a cat.

“You know . . .” she purred. “If you just tell me, I can make sure nothing happens to your family. Yes, I know you have a family. A brother, wives for both of you, beautiful children out of both those unions. What do you think your employers will do if they think you talked? They won't be able to get to you in here, not without compromising themselves . . . but they can target your family. Yes, they can, and you won't be able to do a thing about it. But I can save them from that fate; you just have to talk.”

The prisoner groaned, although whether that groan was one of trepidation or pleasure was a confusing matter.

“You like this, don't you?” Rhiand'r went on. “As much as you want to remain faithful to your wife, you like this. Come on, tell me. You can tell me. It'll be just between you and me . . . well, you, me, and my cousins.”

“Stop this,” the prisoner groaned.

“Why should I?” Rhiand'r asked. “I have the upper hand.”

“That's enough, Rhiand'r,” Nightstar said. “We don't need him anymore.”

Rhiand'r pulled the lance out of the prisoner's shoulder and dissipated the blue energy around it.

“Too bad,” she whispered to the prisoner. “I would have shown you things that would make you call me X'Hal.”

She walked out of the containment chamber, her hips swaying teasingly.

Nightstar and Bladefire caught up to their cousin and halted her stride.

“That was utterly unacceptable,” Nightstar censured the younger girl.

“By your standards,” Rhiand'r replied. “You forget, Mar'i, we don't show mercy to those that threaten us. We use every tactic at our disposal to neutralize and destroy them.”

“Including what you did back there?” Nightstar asked.

“And more if I had to,” Rhiand'r answered. “Besides, I was breaking his will. It was in his body language; he was starting to lose his will to resist.”

“Of course,” Bladefire murmured. “If I had an attractive girl grinding against me while threatening my family, that would tax my willpower.”

“If you're going to interfere with me, you'd better have information I can use,” Rhiand'r spat, scowling at the twins.

“We do,” Bladefire answered. “Tani'yr, Ay'n, Syri'n, Erasth'a, and Rena't. The `former' insurgent sympathizers, presently members of the Royal Council.”

“When do we start putting the screws to them?” Rhiand'r asked.

“We don't,” Nightstar replied. “Not yet. We rest now . . . and we observe those five in the morning. The guilty party (or parties) will reveal themselves sooner or later.”

“Whatever you say,” Rhiand'r drawled sarcastically.

The next morning, Nightstar and Bladefire came down to the palace dining room for breakfast - which was every bit as savage as the previous night's dinner. Once breakfast was finished, Ryand'r pulled the twins and Rhiand'r aside, along with Blackfire.

“What's wrong, Uncle?” Rhiand'r asked, her voice sickly sweet.

“One of the prisoners,” Ryand'r replied. “Guards found him this morning with a wound in his shoulder. By the time they reached him, it was already mostly healed, but they had medics take care of him to expedite the process. Now, I'd like to know why exactly the remote monitoring equipment was malfunctioning the night before.”

“Earth has diluted them,” Rhiand'r sneered, regarding Nightstar and Bladefire. “Turned them both into soft-hearted cowards, much like you, Uncle.”

Ryand'r glared at her. “Was it you who gave him that wound, Rhiand'r?”

“So what if it was?” Rhiand'r asked unrepentantly.

“You went to him against my wishes,” Ryand'r answered. “Behind my back, even.”

“You authorized me and Koriand'r's children to investigate these attempts on your life, my king,” Rhiand'r retorted, her tone mocking on the last two sentences. “I was investigating . . . and if you're going to condemn me for what I did, then you should condemn Mar'i and Joh'n for accessing your records room.”

“And what did you two find that was worth going in there?” Blackfire asked.

“Five of the Royal Councilors were supporters of the insurgency,” Nightstar replied. “But I suppose you were already aware of that.”

“I believed that giving them a seat at the table would mitigate their hostilities,” Ryand'r explained. “Apparently, I was wrong.”

“Tani'yr, Ay'n, Syri'n, Erasth'a, and Rena't,” Blackfire said. “It's them, isn't it?”

“Yes, but we don't know for certain which one of them hired those assassins or even if all of them are in on it,” Nightstar answered.

“Continue the investigation, then,” Ryand'r said.

The twins and Rhiand'r walked out of the dining room and Nightstar turned to Rhiand'r.

“Why are you being this way?” she asked.

Rhiand'r simply sneered at Nightstar. “Diluted, both of you.”

“Diluted?” Bladefire asked.

“Yes, diluted,” Rhiand'r answered. “Being raised on Earth has made you rutha. You are a disgrace to your Tamaranean blood.”

“We're disgraces?” Bladefire asked coldly. “You're the one using pain, sex, and threats to get information out of prisoners.”

“Here's a little something you forgot about Tamaranean philosophy: To preserve peace, you must be willing to eliminate those that threaten that peace,” Rhiand'r answered just as coldly. “You seem rather unwilling to do that. I suppose I have your father to thank for that; so-called `superheroes' are so disgustingly squeamish.”

“We have an investigation to continue,” Nightstar said. “I suggest we observe our suspects.”

The observation began at the next Royal Council meeting. Nightstar, Bladefire, and Rhiand'r remotely observed the meeting, Rhiand'r looking for any signs of deception in the five “former” insurgent sympathizers' body language.

“They're good,” Rhiand'r murmured. “If any of them is plotting against Uncle Ryand'r, they're pretty good at moving normally in his presence. But they seem apprehensive, nervous. Of course, that could be attributed to just them being former insurgent sympathizers and thus having played a role in Aunt Koriand'r's death. I'd certainly be nervous around somebody if I had a hand in the death of someone they loved.”

“And here I thought you were a callous bitch who didn't care who got hurt as long as she got what she came for,” Nightstar remarked offhandedly.

“Think that if you want,” Rhiand'r answered. “Wait . . . Syri'n seems slightly more nervous than the other four. The talk of attempts on King Ryand'r's life . . . why, if I didn't know better . . . I'd say he was scared.”

“Scared of being found out?” Bladefire surmised.

“Most likely,” Rhiand'r answered. “He's covering something, and scared of what'll happen if it sees the light of day.”

After the meeting was over, the twins and Rhiand'r split up to follow the five possibly rogue councilors secretly. Like them, the councilors traveled by flight, as Tamaraneans had no need for planet-bound vehicles. Unfortunately, as the councilors were five and the three were just three, they couldn't follow all of them. Therefore, they simply followed the three that made them more suspicious, Rhiand'r following Syri'n while Nightstar followed Tani'yr and Bladefire followed Erasth'a.

As Rhiand'r soared behind Syri'n, the possibly rogue councilor turned to face her, his emerald eyes glowing with challenge.

“Do you think me a traitor to the Grand Emperor?” he asked. “Then best me in battle and I shall tell you the truth.”

“Why should I believe you?” Rhiand'r asked.

“I am offering you an opportunity,” Syri'n replied. “Do not be foolish and spurn it.”

“You're on,” Rhiand'r said, flying to a desolate patch of wasteland with Syri'n following her. Upon landing, she withdrew her lance.

“Why, Rhiand'r, you would not challenge an unarmed opponent, would you?” Syri'n mused. “Ah, I forgot. You cannot project your energy; only transmit it into what you touch.”

Rhiand'r snarled and replaced her lance. “Unarmed, then. Defend yourself, you son of a bitch.”

That was the only warning Syri'n got before she charged him and struck with a brutal kick. Syri'n blocked Rhiand'r's first kick, but Rhiand'r spun into a second kick, striking him in the face. She flipped in midair and brought her fist down for a solid punch, but Syri'n caught that fist. Rhiand'r simply propelled herself backwards into the air, taking Syri'n with her and swinging herself below him for another kick. This one he countered with a strong punch to her exposed midriff.

Rhiand'r righted herself in the air and flew at Syri'n as he flew at her, the two meeting halfway in a flurry of vicious blows. The daughter of Blackfire had to admit to herself that he was better than she'd expected, and she'd expected considerable combat prowess from him. So far, he was surpassing those expectations.

“You're not bad,” she remarked.

“Neither are you,” Syri'n answered.

The two Tamaraneans maneuvered through the air, easily evading each other's attacks.

This would be so much better if I could use my weapon! Rhiand'r thought.

She descended, Syri'n descending after her with an ironic smile.

“What are you planning, Rhiand'r?” Syri'n asked.

Rhiand'r smiled and quickly shifted into a crouch, sending her energy through the ground. Unfortunately, Syri'n simply soared into the air again, evading the charge.

“Nice try,” Syri'n said.

Rhiand'r soared toward him, moving swiftly and striking viciously. Syri'n blocked the strike and body-slammed her into the ground. Rhiand'r grabbed Syri'n and charged him with her energy, creating an explosive burst that knocked him off her. The councilor groaned as he landed on the ground, his body smoking.

Rhiand'r glided to the fallen councilor and looked at him.

“I win,” she said. “Now talk.”

“It was not I who ordered King Ryand'r's death,” Syri'n answered.

“Then who was it?” Rhiand'r asked.

“It was Tani'yr,” Syri'n replied.

“And why didn't you tell the Grand Emperor if you were so determined to prove your loyalty?” Rhiand'r inquired harshly.

“My family . . .” Syri'n answered. “She threatened to kill them if I told King Ryand'r.”

“Mar'i,” Rhiand'r murmured, and flew away, streaking through the red-violet sky of Tamaran like a blue meteor.

When she reached her cousin, she found the older girl battling Tani'yr. Rhiand'r entered the fray, thinking to surprise Tani'yr by attacking from behind. Tani'yr, however, spun into a chop that would have struck Rhiand'r in her temple if the younger female hadn't grabbed her wrist in time. Rhiand'r grabbed Tani'yr and sped toward the ground, spinning very rapidly. Before the daughter of Blackfire could complete her move, Tani'yr burst free of her grip and knocked her to the ground.

“Rhiand'r!” Nightstar exclaimed, firing an optic blast in Tani'yr's direction. Tani'yr simply raised a bracer-clad wrist to deflect the shot at an angle that caused it to bounce back at Nightstar, who moved out of the way and extended an energy lance with which to pierce the rogue councilor. “What are you planning?”

“Ryand'r has ruined Tamaran,” Tani'yr replied. “I simply intend to restore it, to make it even better than it was.”

“Restore it how exactly?” Nightstar asked. “By setting our people on a path of conquest and expansionism?”

“Our people, you say?” Tani'yr asked. “Maybe you do not understand this, but you are only half of what we are. Only half. It's only because of whom your mother was that you receive any status at all here.”

Nightstar lashed out at Tani'yr with her energy whip, but Tani'yr evaded it.

“Another thing you don't understand: If we wish to survive as a people, we must be willing to expand,” the rogue councilor continued. “We must be willing to stomp out those who would do us harm and make use of their resources so that we can deter others from seeking to harm us.”

“And what good will that do?” Nightstar asked. “It'll just lead to more and more death and too many people died the first time you tried something like this! People like my mother!”

The half-Tamaranean girl rapidly descended toward Tani'yr, prepared to attack her physically. Tani'yr rose just as rapidly to meet her, the two colliding forcefully midway to exchange powerful strikes easily capable of ending a human life. Unfortunately for Tani'yr, Nightstar proved too agile and too maneuverable in the air for her to get any kind of solid hit. On the other hand, Tani'yr was constantly being assaulted from various angles and unable to sufficiently retaliate because the half-Tamaranean girl kept moving out of the way.

“Your mother was too sentimental for her own good,” Tani'yr answered coldly. “The Dawn Princess, the Hope That Rises. Too bad she will never rise again.”

It was pure psychological warfare. By poking the still-open wound of Nightstar's mother's death, the rogue councilor expected the girl to lose her composure and simply seek a direct attack.

She was right.

Nightstar roared in fury and struck with a brutal punch to Tani'yr's stomach. Tani'yr merely took the blow and wrapped her hand around Nightstar's wrist, trapping the half-Tamaranean in a vise grip that left her vulnerable to a hard elbow jab that sent her crashing to the ground. As Tani'yr flew down for a killing stroke, Nightstar looked up and her wrath exploded from her in the form of light, heat, and force concentrated into a beam from her eyes, striking Tani'yr with enough power to easily vaporize a human. For Tani'yr, the beam was enough to leave a smoking wound in her midsection, felling her.

Nightstar stalked over to the fallen Tani'yr, energy lariat in hand.

“I could easily use this to choke the life from you,” she intoned maliciously. “I want to, honestly. I want you to die in the worst way possible. But I won't be the instrument of that death. No, I'll leave you to suffer for what you helped bring about all those years ago, as well as your attempts at assassinating my Grand Emperor Ryand'r. If I'm lucky, he will not be as forgiving as I am.”

She wrapped Tani'yr in the lariat and dragged her over to Rhiand'r. “You all right?”

“Just fine,” Rhiand'r replied grouchily. “Don't see why you didn't kill the bitch. Oh, well. She'll probably be executed. Treason and attempted regicide are high crimes, after all.”

The next day, Nightstar looked out the balcony of her quarters.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Blackfire asked.

“Aunt Komand'r?” Nightstar asked.

“Tani'yr won't live to see next year's first sunrise,” Blackfire replied. “Hope that makes you feel better.”

“The scary thing is that it does,” Nightstar said. “It still hurts. After all these years, it still hurts.” She turned to look at Blackfire. “I know you and my mom never got along, but . . . do you miss her, too?”

“Every day, Starshine,” Blackfire answered. “Every day. But I live every day for her, to honor her memory. Her life was something to be celebrated, no matter how much I despised it when we were younger. She was a great warrior, but even more importantly, a woman full of life and love and joy. She will be missed, but her memory - her legacy - lives on. In you and your brother.”

“Thank you, Aunt Komand'r,” Nightstar said.

“You're welcome,” Blackfire answered.

Meanwhile, Rhiand'r had caught up with Bladefire, a sardonic smirk on her face.

“And here I thought you and Mar'i shared everything,” she remarked. “But you have a secret . . . and secrets are fun.”

“It's nothing you need to be concerned about,” Bladefire responded.

“You're no fun,” Rhiand'r said. “Oh, well. Keep your secret. It makes no difference to me. I just wonder what'll happen when she finds out.”

Later that day, dinner had been enjoyed with the same feral gusto as was the custom on Tamaran. After it was finished, Ryand'r turned to Nightstar and Bladefire, who were sitting next to Galfore.

“Mar'i, Joh'n, would you two care to stay for longer?” he asked.

“Why?” Bladefire asked.

“I simply wished to show my appreciation to you for helping me root out those that sought my life,” Ryand'r replied. “Of course, you two do have responsibilities back on Earth, so . . .”

“I suppose we can stay for one more day,” Bladefire conceded.

“That is pleasant news, my bumgorf!” Galfore exclaimed, catching Bladefire in a fierce bear hug. Fortunately, Bladefire's Tamaranean constitution left him predisposed to shrugging off those hugs. However, it was somewhat embarrassing.

End Notes: And here is where I end this piece. It was fun to write, believe it or not. Ryand'r, in case you don't know, is Starfire and Blackfire's younger brother from the DC Comics universe.

What is Blackfire doing here and not being an antagonist? In my universe, she and Starfire made peace and as a demonstration of that peace Starfire revoked Blackfire's banishment.

The Royal Council serves as advisers to the Grand Emperor and exerts a degree of influence over him or her, effectively balancing out his or her power.

Rhiand'r, in case you were suspecting it, is Blackfire's daughter and, like Nightstar and Bladefire, is half human. The source of that human DNA is a Robin, but not Dick Grayson or Tim Drake. I'm sure you'll be able to figure out from that huge hint who it is.

The warrior markings on Blackfire's and Rhiand'r's faces were inspired by Turin-the-forsaken's redesigns of Starfire. The Tamaranean outfits for Nightstar, Bladefire, and Rhiand'r were also inspired by redesigns of Starfire, only the design I applied for Bladefire was of a gender-bent Starfire. Additionally, Blackfire's outfit in this version is based on a redesign of her done by Turin-the-forsaken. The only drawback is that he apparently doesn't have the tools to make golden skin, so Starfire and Blackfire come off as Caucasian humans.

“Starshine” is Starfire's nickname for a young Nightstar in The Kingdom, the much-maligned sequel to Kingdom Come.

That's enough explaining for now. Feel free to tell me what you thought of this piece.