Title: Rainbow’s Freedom (Justice Arc) (48/61)
Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Hal/Steve/Diana, Slade Wilson
Series Notes: In the 23rd century, Earth is a technologically-advanced society that practices the ancient institution of slavery. Clark begins training under the Bat and secrets are uncovered as the Abolitionist Movement makes rapid progress with old and new methods. Can Freedom outrace rumors of War as the Galactic Empire rushes headlong to a new future?
The entire series can be found here.
Genres: AU, Drama, Slavefic
Rating: (this chapter): NC-17
Summary: Steve learns more about his fellow prisoner.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): October 21, 2011
Date Of Posting: December 20, 2012
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 906
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: The magnificent story cover is by the wonderfully-talented ctbn60. Thanks so much, luv! :)
General Sam Lane
Speech To The
American Press Club
September 6, 2250 C.E.
Steve shuddered as he wrapped his arms around his torso. It was cold in this dank dungeon, water dripping down the stone walls. Gray light filtered in through the high-barred window, and he nervously noted the squeaking noises in the shadows. Apparently rats were universal.
It appeared that dungeons were the same all over the universe, too. He sighed as he tried to ignore the pain of aching muscles and the livid whip marks on his back. The Kadorans liked the good, old-fashioned methods of interrogation. And if he suffered many more sessions, he would probably be giving up names.
No, I won’t! Torture or not, I’m not giving up the names of our agents on the Rim.
What worried him was that this might not just be business-as-usual, the Kadorans trying to find out the identities of the agents in this endless Cold War.
What if they’re making this push because they’re finally ready to invade?
He shivered again. Dressed in remnants of clothing he had been captured in, he was virtually wearing rags. He was hungry and thirsty, forced to eat moldy bread and drink rancid water when he was given any at all, and he didn’t even want to address the bucket in the corner provided for bodily wastes. The life of a military prisoner was far from glamorous, he thought wryly.
He stared through the bars of the adjoining cell. Slade Wilson had been taken for interrogation and he felt guilty for the relief that it was the other man and not him this time. He had been surprised to see the wall of bars instead of stone when he had first been flung in here.
He sighed. Diana and Hal must be frantic by now. I know I would be in their place. He devoutly wished that he was back with them. He began to drift off, thinking of happier times…
Steve smiled as Diana let her sheer robe fall to the floor and climbed into bed while a naked and eager Hal nibbled on his ear, rubbing his chest as his erection poked Steve in the thigh.
Steve tasted his Angel’s breasts, inhaling her perfume as she pressed herself to him. Hal was just as tight against his back, strong and beautiful, and Steve was loved.
Steve sighed. He heard the door to the next cell open and ribald laughter as the prisoner was thrown in and the door clanged shut behind him.
“Thinking of your girl?” rasped Slade.
“And my guy.” He couldn’t see how bad the damage was, but the guy had an eyepatch. Whether that was due to the torture or he’d had it before his capture, he didn’t know.
“Good for you.” Slade grunted as he sat up against the wall. “So, how are you enjoying your stay in the Hanoi Hilton?”
Steve smiled ruefully. “I wish I could say I’m glad to be here, but not really.”
The other prisoner laughed. “At least you’ve got a window.”
“Oh, yeah, great view of the sky.”
“For a joystick jockey, the sky should be the perfect view.”
“Are you a pilot, too?”
“Among other things.”
Steve felt a little better. It was always good to have someone else besides the rats for company. “How long have you been here?”
“I hear ya.” Steve shivered again as a cold gust of wind swept down from the window. “What planet is this?”
“Some miserable ball of rock called Korlon III.”
“Korlon III?” Steve frowned. “That’s in the Kadoran Empire’s Rim.”
Steve sighed. “Even if we could get out of here, it’s gonna be hell to get out of the Empire and back to ours.”
“But at least we’re on the Kadoran side of the Rim. Better than deep within their Empire.”
“Yeah, that’s a break.”
“You ready to blow this pop stand?”
Steve’s ears perked up. “Yeah.”
“Good. You look like a guy who can handle himself.”
“What’s the plan?”
“I got me a shiv. When the guards come in to take me for my next session, I’ll make my move and unlock your cell.”
“I’ll be ready.” Steve wasn’t sure this plan could work, but sometimes the simplest plans worked best. “By the way, I’m Major Steve Trevor, Earth Air Force, United States Division.”
“Impressive." The prisoner emerged from the shadows. He was dressed in rags like Steve, but was about ten or fifteen years older, Steve judged. White hair glistened in the soft gray beam of light from the window, and the eye without the patch was bright blue. He looked in good shape, muscular and tanned, so he couldn’t have been a prisoner long. “But I knew who you were.”
“Ah, my reputation has preceded me,” Steve said lightly. His instincts were screaming at him to be careful. This man was dangerous, one of those natural-born hunters who could slit a man’s throat before the victim even knew that he was there.
I’ll have to watch my back with this one. I hope he’s on our side.
“And what about your reputation, sir?” Steve asked.
The man’s teeth gleamed like a predator. “Slade Wilson isn’t well-known, but my code name is.” At Steve’s inquisitive look, he said, “I’m Deathstroke.”