Fic: No One Takes Your Freedom (DCU, Koriand'r, Donna)

[amathela]

Title: No One Takes Your Freedom
Fandom: DCU
Character(s): Koriand'r, Donna
Word Count: 1906
Rating: PG-13

Summary: Donna and Kory bust up an intergalactic slave trading ring. (With a little help from the rest of the Titans. Arguably.)

Notes: Written for boywonder for not_primetime. Set pre-reboot.


"Understood," Kory says. "Donna and I will handle it."

"Be careful," Dick says over the comm link. Kory ignores him. Careful is not what this situation calls for, but she knows he means well. And she appreciates that he didn't ask if she was okay; she is, or as okay as she's capable of being, and discussing the matter will not make her more so.

"So," Donna says. "We're going in?"

"Yes," Kory says. "Nightwing and Flash are attempting to infiltrate via stealth. We are to enter in a more ... obvious fashion."

She watches as Donna's gaze flicks past her, to the rows of girls being led by chains around their neck further into the plaza.

"That's pretty obvious," Donna says. "So, where do we get the chains for you to put around me?"

Kory can't help her relieved exhalation of breath at Donna's words, but she tries to keep her face impassive. "You don't have to -"

"Yes," Donna says. She looks directly into Kory's eyes, and Kory allows herself to smile, to feel grateful. This is not weakness; it is friendship. "I do. Come on, let's take a look around."

It isn't difficult, in the end, to slip a collar and chains from the back of a slow-moving wagon. In the bustle and excitement of the market, neither of them cause much of a stir. Not that Tamaraneans are likely to be entirely unknown here; if anything, she would suppose that humans are regarded as more exotic. That isn't why Donna volunteered, she knows, but it's in their favour nonetheless.

As they draw closer to the centre of the square, the crowd begins to noticeably thicken. Kory can feel Donna growing increasingly tense, as though through the chains, and she moves a little closer, reassuring her with a look that she feels the same way.

Mostly, the desire to find out who is responsible for this and hit them very, very hard.

It's easy to tell when they get there; the crowd condenses into a nearly impenetrable wall, their shared anticipation practically solid, the collective noise rising to the level where Kory would have to shout even for Donna to hear her. That's all right, though. They don't need to speak.

Kory pushes her way through the crowd, pulling Donna alongside her until they reach the front. Once there, and only a little battered, she surveys the makeshift clearing in the centre until her eyes alight on a man, more finely dressed than the others, his posture more imperious, who she immediately supposes is the auctioneer.

He sees her at the same time, and she straightens, tightens the chain between her and Donna almost imperceptibly. It disgusts her, how easy she finds slipping into the character of a slave owner, how familiar she is with it, but she grips the chain - her link to Donna - a little tighter, and breathes out.

"Lovely," the man says. He's speaking to Kory but looking at Donna, his gaze travelling over her, hands twitching as if barely restrained from touching her. Kory wants to blast him. "We haven't seen any humans for a while. How much?"

"She's not for sale," Kory says, more harshly than she intended. She tries to smile; rarely has she struggled with anything so difficult. "She is my personal property. I am interested in buying, not in selling."

"A pity," he says, and now he does touch Donna, his fingers trailing down her arm. The motion is calculated, almost but not quite an insult, and Kory can feel her muscles tensing as if for battle. "I could give you a good price. A very good price."

This time, it is easier to smile; all she has to do is imagine how it would feel to rip off the arm touching her best friend. "A tempting offer, but I must decline."

"As you wish," the man says, and steps back. "However, I cannot allow inspections of the new crop before the auction. Unprofessional, you know."

Yes, Kory knows exactly professional his kind are. She reaches out for Donna, now, caressing the exposed skin of her stomach. She can feel Donna shiver under her touch, see Donna lean ever so slightly towards her, and is not sure how much is real and how much just for show.

"That's disappointing," she says, keeping her hand on Donna, suggestive, almost inviting. "I have been looking for another ... companion. Something special. I would be very appreciative.

The auctioneer honest to goodness licks his lips. "I may be able to arrange a private tour. Just a little peek."

"Of course," Kory says. "Lead the way."

If it was difficult not to rain down destruction on the organisers of this ring earlier, it becomes nearly impossible once they are led to the camp. Cages, as if for wild animals or dangerous prisoners, containing three of four slaves in close quarters. their hands are roughly bound, their skin dry and cracked, emaciated and sickly. Those in the best condition look desperate; the worst, resigned.

Kory wonders how many cages she and Donna could rip over before anyone could try to stop them. How many of those responsible she could stop before they fled.

Not enough.

"They are in good condition?" she asks. It's a ridiculous charade, but she keeps their guide's attention on her while Donna lags a little behind, scouting the area, looking for his bosses. When they end this, they will do so properly.

"Of course," he says. "A few days' pampering and I dare say they'll be almost as desirable as your human."

A few days' food and rest and they may be saved from starvation. Will be saved.

"I've seen these before," she says, as they reach the end of the row. Donna shakes her head in the tiniest motion; this is not all they are looking for. "Do you have anything more ... exotic?"

He looks undecided, and Kory allows herself to hope that they are finally drawing closer. "We may," he admits. "Only for our most discerning buyers."

Kory has had experience with them, too. "Do you remember how much your last human sold for?" she asks, almost casually.

"Ah," he says. "Of course. It is through -"

Which is when the roof collapses in on them. Or sounds like it's about to, anyway. Kory can hear an explosion, not too far away, and the flimsy walls of the temporary base starting to give. She had hoped for more time, but this will have to do.

"Kory," Nightwing says in her ear. "We had to move early. Did you get what you need?"

"On it," she says, and turns to Donna. "Free these people. I will make certain those men do not escape."

Donna grins, transforming instantly from the image of a meek slave to the warrior Kory knows. "Good luck."

Kory will not need luck; she has rage on her side.

The man beside them starts when Donna snaps her chains as if they were made of paper, tries to run. Kory catches him before he can take a full step.

"This," she says, smiling properly for the first time since they landed, "is for every being who could not break their chains."

He goes down easily, which doesn't surprise her. Disappoint, perhaps, but not surprise. That dealt with, she breaks through the half-shattered wall to confront the men behind it; not those who enslaved her, perhaps, but at this moment, their features look the same.

She does not kill them. That would not be punishment enough.

Another explosion comes as she detains the last of the slavers, closer than the last. The first set of slave quarters, perhaps?

"Nightwing," she says. "We have dealt with our end. Do you require assistance?"

"We're fine over -" A kind of feedback sound in her ear, loud enough to make her flinch, and then Dick again. "You know what, if you have time."

"We are on our way," she tells him, then turns to seek out Donna. She's standing, in the rapidly self-destructing building, surrounded by freed slaves; they will have to take care of these people first. "Nightwing needs help," she says. "I will take these people to safety if you rescue him."

"You're sure?" Donna asks, reaching for her hand.

Kory looks at the dozen slaves, in slightly better shape than the others they saw, their eyes and her own memories telling her everything she needs to know about why. "I am sure."

Donna nods, squeezing Kory's hand briefly before letting go. "Okay. You know where to find us if you need to."

"I will follow the explosions," she says, and Donna laughs.

It is tempting to follow Donna as she flies off; to sate her rage in battle, to let loose until this entire planet is a pile of smoking rubble. She has done it before. But she will not do it now; instead, she will help these people take back their freedom.

And then she will make her own explosions.

-

Donna finds her, afterwards, when they are back home. If it were anyone else - even Dick, perhaps - Kory would want to be left alone, but she lets Donna in without protest. They remain in silence for a while; Donna simply sits beside her, touching her knee, allowing Kory to draw comfort from her presence, allowing her to speak first.

"Thank you," she says finally, and Donna looks up. "I could not have done this today without you."

"We did a good thing," Donna says. "We got everyone out."

And to a safe place, which is not to say they will all live. It pains Kory, though she knows they could not have done more. "I ... am glad we were there. I do not want to ever return to such a place, but -"

She pauses, and Donna squeezes her leg, reassuring. Kory can feel the strength behind it, the compassion. Once, she did not think she would ever truly have a sister again; now, she knows she was wrong.

"If I must, I am glad I have friends who will stand with me," she says.

"You don't have friends," Donna says, standing up. "You have family. And right now, the rest of your family is missing you. Come on."

Kory didn't think she would desire company, but as she follows Donna to the kitchen, she can feel herself beginning to relax, a smile creeping onto her face as bits of conversation reach them.

"Fine," Roy says. "But it wasn't entirely my fault. I just -"

"Shot your load?" Wally suggests, and Kory rounds the corner just in time to see a piece of toast go flying towards his head. Wally's arm blurs as he catches it, stuffing it into his mouth. "Not my fault if you released too early," he mumbles.

"And it wasn't my fault if you knocked into me," Roy says.

"Maybe if you didn't have an explosive arrow cocked -"

"Maybe if you didn't run in half cocked -"

"There is nothing halfway about my -"

Most of the time, Kory cannot tell whether they are genuinely arguing, or just teasing each other. She still cannot tell, but she enjoys it regardless, sitting on the chair Donna pulls up beside her and leaning back, soaking in the feeling of being with her family.

"If you ever need to talk more," Donna says, and Kory turns to her, smiling.

"Thank you," she says. "But I think I will be okay."