Conquered

Chapter 2
Chapter 3

Kal-El, Chloe AU
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Kryptonian words from the Modern Kryptonian site.

You think I'm an ignorant savage
And you've been so many places
I guess it must be so
But still I cannot see
If the savage one is me
How can there be so much that you don't know?

You think you own whatever land you land on
The Earth is just a dead thing you can claim...
You think the only people who are people
Are the people who look and think like you
But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger
You'll learn things you never knew you never knew
-from Pocahontas, "The Colors of the Wind"

He'd had a hundred different women, from fifty different worlds. But he'd never seen a woman who attracted him as strongly as this one.

Kal-El, commander of the ship Kridol, flagship of the Kryptonian fleet, stood on the surface of the planet that called itself Earth, watching as an unarmed blonde woman battled one of his heavily armed and armored men. Her native planet had been subjugated, defeated by superior weaponry and technology, and yet she fought on.

The soldier whom she was struggling against slapped her across the face, and she went flying. Kal-El frowned, because although he'd obeyed Zod's order to conquer the planet, as he always did, he didn't care for excessive force being used against the natives, particularly women. But the soldier slid him a guilty look, and Kal-El realized almost instantly that the man had misjudged his own strength. Easy enough to do under this golden sun.

Seized by an anxiety he couldn't explain, Kal-El stalked forward. The woman-- girl, really, probably no older than he himself was-- lay motionless, but he could see her ribs moving with each breath. He activated the peculiar vision this planet's sun gave him, and saw with relief that she had no broken bones, and no damage to her brain.

He lifted his head and glared at the subcommander, and the man cringed. On this planet, he was invulnerable to any sort of normal physical discipline. But there were ways to make a man suffer, even under the golden sun, and the subcommander knew it.

"Urda," he said, using the Kryptonian word for commander. "I meant no harm-- I was merely trying to subdue her--"

Kal-El glared a moment longer, then let the man off the hook with a curt nod. He bent, and picked up the woman in his arms as easily as if she were composed of air. On this planet, he was superstrong.

He cradled her in his arms and looked down at her face. The dark bruise beginning to mottle her left cheekbone only called attention to the clear purity of her pale skin. She wasn't beautiful by Kryptonian norms, but her skin was gloriously perfect, and so was the long golden hair that made him think of this planet's sun. Beautiful or not, this woman was something most men would kill to possess.

But as the commander, he had no need to kill for her. She was his.

"I will take her," he said simply.

*****

When Chloe Sullivan awakened, she had to fight to open her eyes. Somewhere deep inside, on a primal, instinctive level, she knew there were monsters out there. She felt like a small child, afraid of the dark, afraid to open her eyes for fear that her worst terrors might be confirmed.

But because Chloe had never been a coward, she opened her eyes.

And shivered.

She was in a metal-walled room, a room of considerable luxury. The walls shimmered with a silvery light, and the bed on which she lay was impossibly soft, and the sheets caressed her skin like a lover.

Her bare skin.

To her dismay, she suddenly realized someone had stripped off every stitch of her clothing. Yelping, she sat upright, grabbing for the sheets-- and grabbed at her head instead. Ow.

"I am sorry you were injured by my men."

The deep voice rolled over her like whiskey, smooth and silky and intoxicatingly sexy. She turned her head, more cautiously, and saw a remarkably beautiful man sitting next to her, studying her.

No man should be this gorgeous. Thick, shoulder-length hair, almost black, fell around a sculpted, square-jawed face. Piercing green eyes, set off by long, lush lashes, regarded her thoughtfully. A tight black uniform clung to his powerfully muscled body, and a large silver S in a five-sided figure adorned his really impressive chest.

One of the aliens, she realized dully. The man looked as human as she did-- but clearly he wasn't. He and his people had conquered the Earth in less than four hours.

She swallowed at the thought, and spoke in the most authoritative voice she could manage. "I want to be returned to my home."

He shook his head with a faint smile. "I'm afraid that's impossible. We've already broken orbit."

Her mouth fell open. "But you-- you--"

"My ship," he explained, "is a military vessel, meant only for orbital attack. Now that the military aspect of this operation is over, colony vessels are sending down our people to the surface. We have, of course, left soldiers behind to keep order, but this ship is no longer needed there."

"You're occupying Earth."

He lifted a shoulder. "We find certain qualities of your planet to be... useful."

"Useful." She remembered all the science fiction movies she'd seen, and imagined her fellow humans slaving in the mines, or working in factories, producing war machines. "How many of my people did you kill, you bastard?"

"Not a single one," he answered steadily. "The Kryptonian Empire prides itself on conquering without loss of life."

She glared at him. "Some of us would rather die than live in slavery."

He acknowledged the point with a slight shrug of his big shoulders. "But your people will not be enslaved. Their quality of life will actually improve. They will benefit from our superior technology."

"But they'll still be treated like second-class citizens, right?"

He hesitated, and she knew she'd scored a point. "Nice," she said bitterly. "Why did you guys just decide to fall out of the skies and take over our planet, anyway? What did we ever do to you?"

The dark-haired man blew out his breath in a sigh, as if he were slightly annoyed at having to explain himself to her. "Conquering lesser cultures is simply our way."

"Bastards."

His eyes narrowed, and she had the feeling he was struggling with his temper. But a moment later he sighed, and spoke very calmly.

"I am the commander of this vessel," he said. "My name is Kal-El. And yours is...?"

Chloe thought about spitting in his face, but decided that would just be a foolish display of childish temper. If she really was in a spaceship, then she didn't have a lot of options for escape. She wasn't a scientist, but she did know that floating home through vacuum wasn't healthy. The smart thing to do was to be cooperative... for now, at least.

"Chloe Sullivan," she answered.

He inclined his head. "I am pleased to meet you, Chloe Sullivan."

"Just Chloe will do." She frowned at him. "Look, Kal-El, why exactly am I here?"

He blinked at her, as if the answer were entirely obvious.

"I intend to have sex with you," he said.

Read Chapter 2 here.