There were a lot of post-graduate options for your computer science degree from Gotham University, but being on Nightwing's comms almost every night was not one of them. It was almost comical how you got recruited—by running into Dick Grayson's civilian identity, thoroughly embarrassing yourself, and somehow showing him your analytical AI model, L.O.G.A.N, (short for Logistical Operations Guiding Analytical Navigation)—but it was even more surpising that the two or you worked. It was like this was what you had been meant to do all along: save people, and wreck your sleep schedule in the process.

"I need eyes on the Central Station Rail, near the Blue Line!" The familiar cadence of Dick's voice buzzed in from your comms, and you immediately retrieved the thermal imaging for the subway lines, which displayed three people—members of the newly established Triad that's been trying to establish a foothold in the Bludhaven crime scene—you almost felt sorry for them. Nightwing's escrima sticks weren't made of fluffy clouds, after all.