FIC: JLA: "Necessary Force" Part 13 - "Parley" (2nd Third)
Aaaaaaannnnnnnnddddddd ....... sorry for taking a couple of days here, but I've been so overwhelmed at work/school - it's pretty stressful actually, and there's just not enough hours in the day. *sigh* But here is the second half of Part XIII, "Parley". (hope it all comes out - having unbelievable problems with LJ Cuts, and also ‘Post Too Large’ messages, which is ridiculous. Especially since one moment it all fits, but there's a double LJ Cut for some reason, and once I fix that, and try again, it tells me the post is too large even though it's been cut in HALF. Gah.) But, nevertheless, here's the rest, cut up into 2 more bits … Hope you enjoy! :-)
Title: JLA: Necessary Force - Part 13: "Parley" (2nd 'third')
Author: Paxwolf
Fandom: JLA/Justice League
Rating: PG-13 (R in parts)
Warnings: Mature Situations, Language, Violence
Disclaimer: The JLA and its characters are owned by DC Comics and their parent company. Mine are owned by me. ;-)
Summary: When a powerful terrorist threatens the safety of the planet, the Justice League must go to extremes to stop him, and Superman and Batman may have to make the biggest sacrifice of all.
Summary of This Part: Wherein the League attempts to open negotiations with the enemy, a fierce verbal fencing match commmences, Green Lantern frets, Flash jokes, Batman plans, Superman makes a sort-of appearance by T-link, and J'onn polishes his skills in method acting.
JLA
“Necessary Force”
By Paxwolf
Part XIII
“Parley”
(B)
The two spokesmen for the Lord and villain Ayestrom had shared a look at J'onn's question and then Reynard swiped his tongue over his teeth as he regarded J’onn. “What does our lord want?” he repeated. “Isn’t that quite obvious, even to you?”
J’onn lifted Superman’s shoulders again. “Apparently not. Perhaps I'm not the sharpest knife in the drawer. Enlighten me.”
They both smiled. They weren't very nice smiles, Kyle thought.
“What does our lord desire? Why, everything, of course,” Reynard said slowly, insinuatingly. “Everything that is his rightful due. The world owes him nothing less. Everything. Including y …” He stopped mid-sentence as if suddenly struck dumb, his fair features paling still further before regaining his equilibrium. “Everything,” he repeated.
J’onn snorted. “That’s a pretty tall order. Care to be a little more specific?”
“Lord Ayestrom simply wishes to gain all that is rightfully his,” explained Marcella patiently, as if to a small child. “He is a very great man. He is owed his chance to assert himself to his necessary and privileged position in the world. He is to be given his true and honoured place in society, where all can acknowledge him and admire him for the greatness that is himself. He deserves the recognition, respect, and adulation of the west, of the governments of the world, and yes, even of its heroes.”
“And our unending subservience too, I presume?” J’onn asked, Superman’s impudent tone at direct odds with the fawning adoration in hers.
Kyle shared an amazed look with Wally. J’onn wasn’t just masquerading as Superman, he was channelling Superman.
But Marcella didn’t even blink.
“You may attempt to mock the idea, alien, but that foretold end is a given, for that is your place." She gave him a pitying look. "He does not desire to kill you. But you will show him the deference he is due. That is your role in which you must yet be schooled. They who are lesser inevitably give way before they who are greater.”
“A most enlightened philosophy,” J’onn said in a mild voice, raising Superman’s eyebrows a slight degree. The harshest of rejoinders could not have sounded more like the abject dismissal it was.
The two spokesmen, obviously expecting him to be outraged at the promise of subservience, looked at him narrowly.
“Do not assume such a judgement on us, Leaguer,” Reynard bit out. “We do not expect you to accept your fate willingly. But given time, you will learn that it is the Übermensch’s destiny to be the one to whom your Justice League and its allies, and indeed all of the nations and peoples of the world, will pledge allegiance, service, and undying loyalty. In the meantime, that very putting of you in your place, that teaching you shall undergo to have you accept the superiority of your true master, will prove the greatest of pleasures to our lord." He grinned. To Kyle that grin made the man look uncannily like a shark. "And be assured, you will be taught. Make no mistake about that.”
J’onn smiled grimly.
“Not that I have anything against higher education, but go ahead and tell your Übermensch - oh, very inspired title that, by the way - that I’ve long since graduated, and don’t require any more degrees at present. Particularly ones that major in childish fantasies. I’ve got enough to take care of in the school of real life.”
Marcella chuckled. “I had not anticipated that this would be such an amusing encounter.” She looked out at him with a dark gaze, eyeing him. “We are well aware that you would not be bargaining at all were you in a position to take action against us, Superman." She shook her head as if amused. "No doubt your infamous Batman is feverishly trying to come up with some clever little strategy to defeat us, and your friends are all desperately trying to find a myriad of ways to ... how do you Americans say it ... to ‘take us down’. That desperation is only too apparent, as is why.” She paused and looked at him thoughtfully. “You yourself, for all your vaunted invulnerability and power, we very nearly killed, not once but twice. Is that not so? Yes, we know of your weaknesses, of your injuries, and how you were decidedly overcome during the opening battles in Brazil, Canada, and in your own beloved Metropolis. The Earth Devourer - that which you have termed the Mantle Drill - was only one of many. And you tasted its strength ... personally, did you not?” Her lips stretched into a smirk as J’onn said nothing, his jaw clenched. “Even you cannot be everywhere at once. Even all of your Justice League and its allied metahumans cannot be all places all the time. Who will guard the more vulnerable towns and cities and embassies - and schools …” she glanced at them meaningfully, “that are the lord Ayestrom’s at his mighty whim? Face it, ‘Man of Steel’. You simply do not possess the might or means necessary to successfully oppose our magnificant lord.” She sat back. "It would be far more wise - and energy efficient - for you to simply accept your failings and cease your ridiuculous resistance and ... acknowledge the truth of who is your superior."
J’onn let out a defeated-sounding sigh, and then regretfully shook his head. “Well, we could debate our relative powers and merits till we’re all blue in the face, but that would just waste everybody’s time. You’re just not going to convince us to surrender with your nice long list of threats. And we’ll believe what we like about our oppositional chances, thanks.”
She blinked and frowned.
“Then you are a fool,” Reynard said, voice soft. “The Lord Ayestrom is the destined ruler of a new age, the vision of the future to come, a new power the likes of which the Earth has never seen, and all peoples shall tremble before hi …”
“You know,” J’onn interrupted, letting Superman’s face show a hint of boredom, “It’s remarkable how old-school all that “New World Order” guff sounds.”
Reynard glared at him. “You …”
“You might want to try a new line,” J’onn continued helpfully. “Be a mite more original. Because we’ve all heard it before. Sort of a ‘been there, done that’ kind of thing.”
They drew themselves up, rigid with fury, and looked daggers at him.
Kyle grinned.
“There is no negotiation, Kryptonian,” Marcella proclaimed coldly. “There never could be. Does the cat negotiate with the mouse? No. It merely plays with its prey before devouring it.” She cocked her head and pursed her lips. “My lord is done playing, Justice League. And you have a very simple decision before you. Accept his rule, or be devoured.”
“Are those the only options?” J’onn asked impertinently. “Because I’ve got to tell you, neither of those choices are very appealing.”
“We can see how seriously you take us,” she answered with a soft shake of her head. “That will be to your own detriment.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
They stared at him.
“You knew there would be no negotiation,” Reynard said shrewdly.
J’onn spread Superman’s hands. “We got that impression from the start. But we wanted to take your measure. And, of course, if there really was a chance to talk, to work something out without resorting to violence, we had to try.”
Reynard nodded. “That was to be expected. We would have probably been disappointed with you if you had not. And my lord wished to take more of your measure as well.”
“Well, I hope he’s got a clearer picture now of who he’s dealing with.”
“You might hope otherwise.”
“I doubt it.” J’onn paused. “I suppose we’re at an impasse, then.”
They both smiled.
“Not at all,” Marcella said, sounding almost sad. “There is no bargaining. And no more choices for you. Only this: you and your League will surrender to us. Unconditionally. Then, and only then, will our humble ‘guests’ be released, safely and soundly, as it is said." She paused and then drew in a deep breath. "Allow me to be quite clear. If you fail to comply, every one of the hostages will be executed, one by one … slowly. The children will make especially … interesting viewing, I am told.” She watched as J’onn stiffened.
Kyle could suddenly barely breathe.
No ...
Reynard bared his teeth in a parody of a smile at Superman's reaction. “And the attacks on United Nations members, particularly on the Americans and all others who offer resistance, will increase in severity, number, and duration. Not only her people, but the Earth herself will sustain irreversible damage. This destruction, and all the deaths that shall result, will be upon your heads.”
There was a long pause while J’onn stared levelly at them, but did not speak.
Marcella lidded her eyes and nodded to herself. “Should you in truth be the heroes that you claim, you will see you have no choice but to give your obeisance and complete surrender to the mighty Lord Ayestrom.”
J’onn allowed Superman’s features to harden.
“Harm one hair on those people’s heads and there will be no place on Earth deep or dark enough for Ayestrom to slink into. I promise you that.”
She sighed and Reynard shook his head. “Such futile defiance! Such a willfully obstinate nature! One wonders if there’s any hope for you, Superman.”
He shook his head. “Not if you mean as Ayestrom’s slave, there’s not.”
Reynard smiled disbelievingly, but only gave a slight shrug himself. “We shall see.”
Marcella clucked her tongue, then looked at him very seriously. “We were under the impression that you and your little super clique stood for truth and justice. Do you not ultimately desire peace above all else? To save lives and preserve civilization and the rule of law the world over?” She frowned as J'onn didn't respond. “I have heard it said that you and many of your colleagues would choose not to fight if there was true justice in the world. That you would prefer to lay down your arms, and live freely and peaceably in an Utopian society. Do you not see the truth? That is what the Lord Ayestrom offers! Ultimate peace, and true order out of chaos!" She drew a breath and seemed to calm herself. "There need be no more senseless wars or famine or the rich becoming richer at the expense of the poor. You can help change all of that by serving our lord. Under his guidance, you could truly save the world. Is that not what you want? Is that not a desirable outcome? Will you not join us?” She gazed at J'onn, dark eyes sparking in intensity. “Or will you allow your singular and foolish pride to be the downfall of so many?”
For a long moment J’onn made no answer and Kyle began to fearfully wonder if he was struggling to find the right words with which Superman would have answered such an eloquent question. Then J’onn raised Superman’s head and met her gaze squarely.
“That’s quite an impassioned speech, Marcella,” he said slowly. “But you see, the problem is, you’re not offering peace, or justice, or freedom. Only oppression, conformity, and tyranny. The order Ayestrom wants is all fine and good, if he were wanting it truly for the good of the world. But the real truth is, he wants it instead for the good of himself." This time it was he who looked almost pityingly at her. "I freely admit that it would be a dream come true for the world to find more of a balance, to pursue real equality, and real justice. For us all to get a release from the toll that unending war, crime, prejudice, poverty, greed, and everything else that is wrong in the world exacts from us." He sighed and shook his head. "But I’m afraid the price you’re asking is too high. To just give everything over to the control of one man is wrong, no matter who he is." He looked up. "And no offence,” J’onn gave a rather sardonic grin on Superman’s mouth, “but your ‘Übermensch’ doesn’t exactly inspire my confidence. Not after everything he has already done. Even if he did release all of the hostages unharmed this very hour, you can't bring back the dead. And in my book, actions tend to speak a lot louder than words.” He looked at her soberly. “Your Ayestrom’s actions speak of corruption, not of virtue. And the Justice League and those with whom we fight, and those for whom we fight, will always oppose evil, in whatever form it takes.”
There was another long silence, as Marcella, Reynard, and J’onn regarded each other, unspeaking.
“Very well then,” Marcella said, raising her chin as she swept her luxuriant hair back. “How you wish to view the situation is your prerogative. However erroneous that view may be.” J’onn shrugged again and looked at her, mouth quirked. “We have laid out our lord’s agenda, as has been his will. He has, in his nobility, felt it only right to allow you the privilege of glimpsing the glory that is to come. It is a great honour that he has deemed you worthy of such a glimpse. It is to your discredit that you so blatantly refuse to accept what is meant to be. If your own agenda is as honourable as you attest, you really have only one true option: surrender.”
J’onn smiled Superman’s patented smile. “I’d sooner battle all the forces of hell for all eternity with no angels on my side than to surrender to Ayestrom.”
Shaking his head bemusedly, Reynard snorted. “It may come to that before the end, alien. Be assured of that. Your conscience may heal after a fashion should you continue to make the wrong choice,” he continued smugly. “The hostages and the citizens of the world, however, will not have the luxury of that kind of time.”
“I urge you to reconsider, Superman,” Marcella said suddenly, looking directly at him. “For your own sake as well as that of your people. My lord’s patience will not endure forever. And at the end of it, it will be the world, and you and your League most of all, that will pay the price.”
Both of them inclined their heads, Reynard still with a slight smirk on his lips, Marcella with a serious, almost frown on her face. The image abruptly winked out.
J’onn let out a breath and turned to look around at the others. Kyle swore he could feel waves of frustration and fear emanate from the normally placid, not to mention shielded, Martian. J’onn abruptly let go of his hold on Superman’s shape and slid back into his regular green-skinned appearance, Superman’s distinctive sky-blue eyes morphing back into solid red, his scarlet cape shifting back into J’onn’s navy cloak.
For several minutes, no one spoke. Kyle thought there really wasn’t anything to be said. He felt his insides twisting so hard in his own fear as he thought of the hostages, one small one in particular, that he had difficulty hiding his shaking. He felt like he was only a breath away from falling apart.
“That seemed like an entirely pointless exercise,” Aquaman broke the strained quiet at last, the words coming in conjunction with the sound of his fist going clean through the thin wall beside him.
“It did serve to accomplish part of our purpose,” Batman reminded them sternly, but Kyle couldn’t help noticing that the Dark Knight too seemed disquieted.
“Yes, we have bought a little more time,” Diana sighed, looking out the window to the waning day beyond. “But will it be enough?”
“We can only hope,” J’onn replied somberly, wrapping himself in his cloak as if he felt chilled. Kyle wondered if he still felt a residue of the cold he’d sensed from Superman’s recent ordeal, or if the conversation had affected him that badly. After witnessing the incredible display of J’onn’s acting, he also wondered how far the link between them had gone, if J’onn had somehow been tapping into Superman’s very psyche to be able to not only look and sound like Superman, but to react, think, and speak like him too. It had been, all told, a bit unnerving.
Flash seemed to be on the same wavelength. “Well, if nothing else, you did a phenomenal job with the performance bit there, J’onn,” he said admiringly. “You nearly made a more convincing Superman than he does himself!”
J’onn looked at him as Wally suddenly blushed. “I’ll try to not to let him know you said that, Flash,” he said dryly.
“And another thing that exchange accomplished,” broke in Steel, “was that it will throw suspicion off of Kal being their spy. That has to be to our advantage. Since they actually talked with 'him' here, and there’s no way they’ll believe he wasn’t the real deal.” He looked at J’onn a little uncertainly. “Right?”
And to be carried onto the THIRD third in the next post, which is right over HERE. :-)