The Moment (Harley Quinn FanFic)

SAME TIME ABOARD THE S. S. QUINZEL

Nightwing stood on the bridge of the S.S. Quinzel, a vessel as sleek as it was powerful. Though the ship bore a personal name, it was unmistakably a Republic Arquitens-class cruiser, designed with a blend of military efficiency and commanding presence. Now, it hung in low orbit over the emerald surface of a bustling trade planet, its sharp lines silhouetted against the planet's atmosphere. Below, starports gleamed like clusters of stars against the planet's lush terrain, while streaks of ships moved to and from its surface.

The bridge was a hive of controlled activity, dimly lit to emphasize the glow of monitors and consoles. Crew members worked diligently at their stations, tracking planetary movements and managing the ship's systems.

Nightwing, however, remained focused on the holoscreen before him. The soft hum of the ship's systems was broken by the ship's AI.

"Commander," the AI intoned, its voice cool and precise. "You've received a flagged transmission. Source: Unknown. Content: Encrypted."

Nightwing frowned, his jaw tightening slightly. This far from the Core Worlds, encrypted signals weren't uncommon, but something about this one felt… wrong. "Patch it through," he ordered.

The holoscreen flickered to life, the static resolving into an image that made his stomach drop.

The Joker.

The pale white face, wild green hair, and grotesque red grin filled the screen. His signature purple suit was crisp, the flower on his lapel still dripping its likely toxic fluid. Joker leaned close to the camera, his unhinged energy crackling through even the pixelated feed.

"Well, well, well! If it isn't my darling Harley. Oh, how I've missed you, pumpkin!" His voice was a twisted parody of affection, the sing-song tone crawling under the skin. "I bet you thought you'd escaped me, didn't you? Thought you could just run off, play house, and live happily ever after with that pathetic bird-boy or whatever it is you've been doing lately!"

Nightwing's hands clenched into fists at his sides as he watched, his calm expression barely masking his simmering anger.

"But, oh-ho-ho, Harley… you can't escape destiny. You can't escape me! I made you. Molded you. Everything you are, everything you could be, is because of me! And you think you can just… leave? Tsk, tsk, tsk!" Joker's gloved finger wagged at the screen in mock chastisement.

The clown's playful demeanor melted into something more sinister. "But don't you worry, my dear. Daddy's coming home. And this time, I'm bringing gifts! A reunion! A celebration of sorts! You'll see. It's going to be spectacular—fireworks, blood, chaos!" His voice grew louder, his laughter filling the room like a malevolent storm.

"And if you think you can hide…" Joker leaned forward until his painted face filled the screen, his eyes gleaming with manic glee. "Think again. I know exactly where you are. I've been watching, Harley. Every little thing you've been doing. Helping Robin, crying over his grave, playing house with that little crew of yours. It's cute. Really, it is. But it's not you. It's not us."

The final words hit like a dagger, precise and cruel.

"Oh, and one last thing, sugarplum," Joker whispered, his voice dropping into a dark, intimate tone. "When I get there… when I finally see you again… I'll remind you who you really are. You'll come back to me, Harley. They always come back."

The screen went black, leaving only the faint hiss of static before the transmission cut off entirely.

Nightwing exhaled slowly, his face grim. Joker's words echoed in his head, each one dripping with menace. Turning back to the command console, he barked an order. "AI, analyze the signal's origin and cross-reference with known Joker activity."

"Processing," the AI replied smoothly. "The transmission originated from the Altair Sector. However, signal scrambling prevents pinpointing the exact location. Probability of Joker's physical presence in Altair Sector: 67%."

Nightwing's lips pressed into a thin line. Joker was close—too close.

"Open a secure channel to Infinity," he ordered, pacing the bridge. Moments later, a holographic figure shimmered into existence, their glowing blue eyes meeting his.

"I'm here, Nightwing," Infinity said, their tone calm but attentive.

"I just intercepted a message from Joker," he began, his voice taut with urgency. "It was aimed at Harley. He's planning something big, and he's already moving in the Altair Sector. I need you to pull every piece of intel we have on his recent movements. Focus on pirate networks, abandoned outposts, and any signs of large-scale activity."

Infinity's holographic form shimmered as they processed the request. "Understood. Preliminary data suggests Joker may be leveraging fringe criminal organizations. I'll refine the search parameters and deploy recon drones. Should I ready countermeasures?"

"Yes," Nightwing replied firmly. "Prepare for worst-case scenarios. Joker doesn't move without his usual chaos. And find Harley's current location—I don't want him catching her off-guard."

Infinity nodded. "Acknowledged. I'll notify you as soon as I have actionable data."

The hologram blinked out, leaving Nightwing to stare at the now-dark holoscreen. The weight of the moment settled heavily on his shoulders. He turned to the bridge crew.

"All hands, prepare for potential engagement," he ordered, his voice steady but commanding. "Set course for the Altair Sector. Full alert."

The S.S. Quinzel shifted into action, its engines flaring as the ship adjusted its orbit.

The moon hung high over the steel compound, casting long shadows on the jagged terrain. Nightwing perched atop a dilapidated comms tower, his silhouette blending seamlessly with the night. Below him, rows of armored clone soldiers awaited his signal, their visors glowing faintly in the dark like a constellation of determination. Each clone was armed to the teeth, their equipment fine-tuned for precision and efficiency.

"Alright, team," Nightwing's voice crackled through the encrypted comms channel, his tone calm but commanding. "You've been bred for this—trained for precision and discipline. Tonight, we bring Team Rocket's operation here to its knees. Remember the plan: no civilian casualties, no unnecessary risks. In and out clean. Understood?"

A chorus of affirmations echoed back, their voices unified but distinct enough to show they weren't mindless drones.

Nightwing smirked, feeling a familiar rush of adrenaline. He loved strategy, and tonight's operation was one of his more ambitious ones. "Alpha Squad," he continued, scanning the facility with his enhanced binocular lenses, "you're up. Breach the south gate and disable their external defenses. Keep it quiet until you're spotted—then go loud and draw their attention."

From his vantage point, he watched as the first team moved in, their movements precise and synchronized. They scaled the fence silently, their grappling hooks firing with a whisper. Moments later, a muted explosion indicated the gate's electronic lock was fried. Alarms began to blare.

"Bravo Squad, you're next. Tunnel in from the north and sabotage their power grid. We'll need the lights out before we make our next move."

The ground unit sprang into action, deploying compact drills to breach the underground infrastructure. Nightwing flicked through his HUD, monitoring their progress. Meanwhile, the facility buzzed with activity as Team Rocket grunts scrambled to respond.

"Delta Squad," Nightwing said, his tone hardening, "those grunts are arming Pokémon and setting up defensive positions. Neutralize their Pokémon handlers—non-lethally. Let the clones do the heavy lifting; we'll mop up later."

He launched himself off the tower, flipping mid-air before landing silently on the rooftop of a warehouse. His escrima sticks snapped to life, emitting a faint blue glow. As the grunts below barked orders and released Pokémon from containment units, Nightwing's voice cut through their chaos like a scalpel.

"Don't worry, folks," he called out as he dropped into their midst, dodging a Hyper Beam from a Rhydon, "you're about to be evicted—permanently."

With a graceful strike, he incapacitated a grunt holding a control panel, while his clones swept in behind him, their stun rifles firing in precise bursts. A Charizard roared and lunged at the assault unit, but Nightwing rolled forward, vaulting onto its back and delivering a shock from his escrima sticks to its control collar. The beast stumbled, then fell unconscious.

"Facility power at 20%," a clone reported through the comms. "Bravo Squad's almost done."

"Good," Nightwing replied, sidestepping a Machamp's flurry of punches before disabling it with a sweep and an elbow strike. "Once the power's out, Alpha Squad, push through to the central lab. That's where they're keeping the stolen tech. Delta, stay on crowd control."

Suddenly, the ground trembled as a massive Electrode rolled into view, its sparking body a clear sign it was rigged for self-destruction.

"Electrode incoming!" shouted a clone.

"Leave it to me," Nightwing ordered, sprinting toward the volatile Pokémon. Timing his movements perfectly, he vaulted over its rolling mass and landed in front of a nearby control terminal. His fingers danced over the console, overriding the detonation sequence just seconds before the Electrode could explode.

The lights flickered, then died. A moment later, the hum of backup generators filled the air.

"Facility neutralized," Nightwing announced. "Wrap it up, team. Secure the tech and evac before reinforcements arrive."

As the clones swept through the now-chaotic compound, Nightwing ascended to the rooftop once more, scanning the battlefield. His team was efficient, disciplined—exactly what he'd trained them to be.

"Mission accomplished," he said into the comms, his tone carrying the faintest trace of pride.

"Not bad for a guy in tights," one of the clones quipped.

Nightwing smirked, vanishing into the shadows as silently as he'd appeared.