bradygirl_12 (bradygirl_12) wrote,
bradygirl_12
bradygirl_12

Fic: Rainbow’s Freedom (Paradise Arc) (15/37)

Title: Rainbow’s Freedom (Paradise Arc) (15/37)
Author: BradyGirl
Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Hal/Steve, Iris West
Series Notes: In the 23rd century, Earth is a technologically-advanced society that practices the ancient institution of slavery. As Bruce and Clark continue to juggle being lovers as well as Master and slave, Bruce continues his Abolitionist work, and a shocking Family Secret is revealed. Meanwhile, the Queen Family welcomes a new member, and Steve and Hal meet their Destinies, although neither one realizes it yet. The entire series can be found here.
Genres: Drama, AU
Rating: (this chapter): NC-17
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Hal and Steve wind up in the middle of diplomatic maneuvering.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): May 17, 2008
Date Of Posting: March 28, 2009
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1604
Feedback welcome and appreciated.



"Diplomacy is sarcasm wrapped in pretty, glittering ribbons."


H.L. Mackeral
Columnist for
The Daily Planet
1920 C.E.



XV

BACKWATER


“Twelve o’clock!”

Steve threw himself behind a large boulder at Hal’s warning. He scrambled up into a crouch, looking over at Hal hidden behind another boulder.

Laser blasts burst in a flurry of noise and light, Steve wincing as one came too close.

The rose-pink sky and light-blue trees and grass were a beautiful backdrop to the deadly confrontation. At least the diplomatic party was safe several yards back…for now.

“Steve,” Hal hissed. “The Virillion Maneuver.”

“No!” Steve shook his head vigorously. “Are you crazy?”

A flash of white teeth. “Probably.” He checked his blaster. “But what choice do we have?”

Steve swore but checked his blaster, too. Close to a full charge.

“Let’s do this,” Hal said. “Count of three.” Hal’s eyes grew steely. “One…”

“…two…”

“…three!”

Steve laid out a volley of blasts while Hal screamed like a banshee, firing and running toward their attackers. Steve kept firing, terrified that he would see his lover fall, but the attackers were so shocked by Hal’s brazenness that they stopped firing for a space of seconds.

Just enough time for Hal to get the drop on them, Steve running to back him up.

The quartet lay sprawled unconscious on the blue ground as the Terrans bound them.

“Well, I’m sure the Ambassador will be happy,” Hal said.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” Steve ground out.

Hal wisely said nothing.

Steve frowned as he took a closer look at the captives. “Are these….Kadorans?”

“They could be.” Hal nudged one with his foot. “Kadorans’ skin colors are light-blue, dark-blue, reddish, and pale yellow. We’ve got both shades of blue here, and their hair are in ponytails, just as Kadoran Warriors wear them.”

“White hair, too.”

Hal nodded. “The only other hair color in their genetics is green, and it’s pretty rare.”

Steve riffled through their pockets. “A little heating up of the Cold War, or space pirates?”

“Intel will find out,” Hal said confidently.

“Let’s bring ‘em in.”

& & & & & &


Hal emerged from the shower, fresh and gleaming, a towel around his waist. He rubbed his hair dry with another towel, pleased at the luxurious accommodations for him and Steve here on Altair VI. Iris West had insisted, her diplomatic skills more than up to the task.

Hal felt energetic, remnants of the adrenaline rush from the afternoon. He hoped that Steve wasn’t still mad at him. He liked his Stevie happy, not angry.

Steve looked up from the bed, dressed in his uniform pants but shirtless. Sapphire eyes sparked with lust as he stood and whipped Hal’s towel off.

“Mmm, Stevie, we have to get ready for the reception.” Hal’s green eyes danced.

“Screw the reception.”

Hal grinned as he was pushed onto the bed, Steve kissing his neck, shoulders, and chest as his body began to press down on Hal’s, his movements nearly frantic.

Hal understood, and let his blond take the lead, pulling Steve’s pants down.

Steve’s growls of passion ignited Hal, who thrust his hips up. His hair was grabbed and his mouth almost brutally taken, Steve grinding their cocks together as Hal bit his shoulder, wild thrusts bringing them to climax as hot seed spilled between them and Hal groaned.

Steve lay on top of Hal with a near-sob, clutching his shoulder, and Hal gently kissed him.

& & & & & &


Steve nodded to the waiter, taking a glass of Jovaran applewine, wishing he could find a stash of Saurian brandy. He was still on edge from the afternoon’s battle, frantic sex with Hal taking some of that edge off but not quite.

He disliked the idea of Kadoran probing missions. Piracy was bad enough, but a Government-sanctioned military probe spelled trouble.

He drank the applewine, the sweet taste calming his stomach. He drifted over to where Iris was speaking with a purple-skinned Babylonian, the man’s rich, deep purple hair shimmering under the lights of the ballroom. Amethyst rings sparkled on his fingers.

The entire room sparkled from the chandeliers to the ambassadorial finery and ribbons and medals on Steve and Hal’s uniforms.

“The Guardians of Oa consider this galaxy a backwater.”

“And how do you know?” asked a rotound Aldebaran, his plate laden with shellfish as he drank his people’s bluewine.

“Tales have been told of other galaxies under the protection of the Green Lantern Corps.”

“Wouldn’t a backwater need extra protection?” asked a slim Lavallan woman, her long, silvery-blue tresses flowing down her back and nearly touching the floor. Her light-blue face was dominated by enormous violet eyes, and her voice held a musical quality.

“Word is that the Guardians are put off by our primitive stage of development,” the Babylonian explained.

“Primitive?” snorted the Aldebaran.

“Of course.” The Babylonian waved his jeweled hand. “War, slavery, poverty…”

This time the Aldebaran burst out laughing. “Poverty! My friend, most of the planets of the Empire eliminated such a thing long ago. Slavery is the foundation of their prosperity. As for war, show me a species that doesn’t make war and I’ll show you either a conquered or extinct one.”

“I disagree,” trilled the Lavallan. “Species reaching a higher plane of existence have no need of war.”

The Aldebaran laughed. “My dear Ilyssa, if a being has a pulse, the motivation for war is there: jealousy, greed, ambition…all baser instincts but a fact of existence. Idealistic castles-in-the-clouds are nice, airy confections, but have little bearing on biological facts.”

“Perhaps,” Ilyssa said, drinking her applewine.

Steve saw Hal nearby, drinking a glass filled with shimmering red wine. Hal loved to play the party boy but Steve knew how sharp and intuitive he was, picking up things that people did not think he heard while he partied hearty.

Hal always said it was a useful skill, winking as he said it.

Iris spoke up. “Perhaps the Guardians are simply waiting for us to gain some enlightenment before affording us protection, though I would say primitives need more protection.”

“You were on a mission to the Collective, correct?” asked the Babylonian.

“True, Arok. Happily it appears…at least for now…that the Collective are uninterested in invasion, which is fortunate for us. They’re a shadowy race, hard to pin down, but they wield great power. Their technology would probably kick our collective derrieres.”

The diplomats chuckled. The Aldebaran saw Steve. “Major Trevor! Congratulations to you and Major Jordan for today’s good work.”

Steve bowed slightly. “Thank you, Ambassador.”

“What’s your opinion, Major? On the Collective, the Guardians?”

“I agree with Ambassador West on the Collective. They’re dangerous, especially as we know so little about them, but what technology we have studied makes us fortunate that they seem satisfied with peace right now.”

“I wonder why that is?”

“There could be an internal struggle going on right now.” Iris sipped her applewine. “I got a sense of that, but couldn’t pin anything down.”

“Interesting,” Arok said. “That could explain a great deal.”

“Let’s hope any internal struggles last a good, long time.”

Nods and murmurs of agreement all around.

“I wonder if a Green Lantern will ever be assigned to our sector?” Ilyssa asked.

“We’re not even sure if they exist!” the Aldebaran scoffed.

“I’m betting they do,” Steve said. “Some interstellar travelers have claimed to have seen Green Lanterns,”

“UFO sightings?”

“Well, Ambassador, once upon a time ships as we travel in were considered UFOs.”

“Very true, Major,” Ilyssa nodded.

“I’d say whomever the Green Lanterns choose to care for this sector, he or she would be courageous, of good character, and be smart as a whip.”

Iris laughed. “Good character listing, Major.”

Steve smiled as he winked at Hal, who smiled as he was drawn into conversation with the Rigellian ambassador.

“I heard there’s an Abolitionist movement in your world,” said the Aldebaran to Arok.

The Babylonian nodded. “Nascent, but there.”

“What is being done to suppress it?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?!”

“That’s right.” Arok put his empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray and took a fresh one. “Why bother, Frad? They’re harmless.”

Frad frowned. “I disagree. Abolitionists can cause trouble.”

“They squawk but what of it? They can’t change anything.”

“How very liberal of you, Arok,” said Ilyssa with a smile.

“Well, you always have people willing to stir the pot.”

“Pot-stirrers have changed history before.” Frad finished his drink.

“True, my friend, but with slavery the bedrock of the Empire, the odds are against such idealists.”

“We should mark this date,” Ilyssa suggested. “See if ten years from now, a movement has taken hold on any planets within the Empire.”

“Sounds good to me,” Steve said.

& & & & & &


Later that evening, Iris approached Hal and Steve.

“Good work this afternoon, gentlemen.”

“All in a day’s work,” Hal said.

Iris laughed. “Modesty becomes you, Major.” Her expression grew serious. “We are in need of excellent pilots to patrol the Outer Rim.” She cocked her head. “What’s wrong, Steve?”

“I…it’s just that I’m scheduled to test the XJ-1941 this fall.”

“And so you shall.” Iris smiled at Steve’s puzzled look. “I hear it’s very prestigious for you to test that plane, Steve. That’s why I only requested you for a six-month diplomatic assignment.”

“Six months?!”

Iris laughed. “Yes, six months. You and Hal will be given leave for a month after the assignment, then you’ll report for your test.”

Steve and Hal exchanged happy smiles. A whole month’s leave! Well, maybe they could survive six months of diplomatic receptions.

That night they celebrated in private.

Tags: green lantern/steve trevor, hal jordan/steve trevor, iris west, paradise arc, rainbow's freedom
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