I don't own DC Comics nor do I own Young Justice.

"Did you hear about our activity from early this morning?"

"That the men had a run in with the Justice League? Yes, Father," Kaldur responded as Black Manta led him down the far corridor of the sub.

"The Justice League brats, actually. They captured some of our men, but no one of importance. And the remaining soldiers brought back what we needed."

"Excellent. The Light will be pleased."

"There's more," Manta said, "During their exit, the men also took one of the them as hostage."

Kaldur didn't blink, didn't break stride. "Really."

The men reached a windowless door at the end of the hall.

"Yes, we were going to take what information we could and simply dispose of her, but then then I remembered," he opened the door, "how much you like redheads."

The jail cell was small and bare, save for her on her knees with chains on her neck, legs and arms, keeping her from moving more than a couple feet in any direction. She still had her suit on, but the cape was torn off, the gauntlets were gone (her bare hands cuffed behind her back) and the cowl was hanging off the back of her neck. Her head was bent low, her long, matted red hair hiding her face.

It was only when Manta took her chin in his hand that Kaldur saw she was on the edge of passing out. The older man's hand unintentionally pushed slightly on her cheeks, revealing blood covered teeth.

"Did you know her, Kaldurahm?"

There was a fresh cut on her temple.

"Yes. We were teammates."

Kaldur could clearly see where her skin was rubbed raw from the shackles.

"Does she please you, my son?"

Without flinching (somehow not flinching), he knelt down to get face to face with her. He cupped her jawline, his thumb wiping the dirt from her cheek. She opened her eyes — they were hazy glass.

"She is very beautiful, Father," Kaldur said, still staring into her eyes before they came into focus. With the spark of contempt and the little strength she still had, she spat blood in his face. Manta acted instantly, lunging and grabbing her by the neck, lifting her off her feet. "You will respect him. You ARE his."

She tried to speak, but with Manta's hand at her throat, she could only sneer.

"Father," Kaldur wiped the spit and blood off his face.

At his son's voice, Manta released her, her leg collapsing under her in the fall. She held her bruised throat and gasped as air filled her lungs. Manta turn to leave, motioning to Kaldur to follow but before the iron doors shut, they heard her grit out, "Traitor. Coward."

"She was the Batman's protege, yes?" Manta asked casually as they moved through the hallway.

"Yes. She was."

Manta nodded and looked back towards the cell door. "No meta powers. But still strong. And limber. She will do well for you, my son."

"Sir!" a lieutenant addressed them, "You have a message."

"I'll be there soon. In the meantime, please make the guest acceptable and then place her in my son's room. Keep the restraints on for your own sake."

"Father," Kaldur said as they turned the corner, "I—"

"No son," he said with the glow of affection, his hand on the younger man's shoulders, "You have made me so proud over these months and you have asked for nothing. Please, let me reward you."

"I just … I do not wish to be maimed by the Batgirl in the process."

"She will yield, I promise you that," Manta smiled, "Your mother was just the same way." He walked away, missing Kaldur's hand make a fist as he was left in the hallway.