((another old old post... at least 15 years old, kept it for posterity, now sharing it with the world))
Emerging from the shadows, Tamriel strolls across the patio to sit upon the railing of the patio. She sighs as she watches the last rays of sunlight disappear beyond the horizon. Blessed nightfall. For a few hours at least, her eyes would be safe from the pain of the harsh light.
If only all of her pain could be removed so easily, she thought. Her mind began to wander back to a distant night. A single conversation...
She closed her eyes, reliving that moment over and over, as she did each nightfall. A single tear drifts down her cheek.
"I cant go on like this... I have to know" she whispered into the wind.
She slipped back inside, taking a parchment from the desk and a quill dipped in ink. Returning to the patio, she sat down and began to write:
I once looked into your eyes
Now they haunt my dreams
Reaching across time
Tearing at my heart
I once heard your voice
Now it carries on the wind
Echoing in my mind
Touching my soul
I once felt your touch
Now I feel the phantom caress
Stealing away my reason
I don't understand
I know we can never be
I am his
And you belong to her
Yet in the darkness
As I lie here alone
It is you who fill my mind
Thoughts of what may have been
Had the fates favored
And I can't help but wonder....
Do you ever think of me?
Leaving the note unsigned, she set her pen down and rolled the parchment tight. Tying it with a silver ribbon, she called out into the night. Moments later, a beautiful falcon answered her call. Whispering instructions to the majestic bird, she tied the tiny scroll to his leg and he flew off into the night. She hoped that the scroll would find its way to the one she intended, and that he would know who sent it... and care.
Friday, November 15, 2013
The Ring (First person fanfic blurb)
(ok, this is old, written almost 10 years ago now, but I just found it and had to post))
A ring…. A simple silver band…
something so small for the significance it carries. It was to have
been his, but the Lords saw fit to punish my lack of judgment by
taking him from me… I still vividly recall the day of the funeral.
As I stood in front of my locker,
fastening the final clasp on the sash of my dress uniform, there sat
the box on the shelf. It was exactly where it had been since I
bought it three months before… but now it seemed to stare right at
me. As if my hands were acting of their own will I reached for the
box, taking the ring from its velvet cage, placing it securely on my
left thumb… a reminder that he should have been at my side.
There it remained throughout the day,
and throughout the next several weeks… until the day I set foot on
the Galactica for the first time. That day the ring returned to its
velvet box on the shelf in my locker, where it sat for two years.
Until today…
Why today? 24 hours ago everything
was as it should be… The Galactica was to be decommissioned… we
were all hanging in limbo, waiting for out next postings… I was
returning to Picon… the final flight with my squadron was only
hours away… a flight I missed due to getting into a little
disagreement with the XO. We never saw it coming… after 40 years
we were thrown into the midst of a war, forced to fight in vipers
that were classed as museum pieces. And I had my first real taste of
combat.
None of us could have been prepared
for this… but we were here… My hands were still shaking from the
adrenaline of landing two linked vipers, thus saving the life of one
of my best friends… it was the least I could do… after all… I
killed his brother. I reach for the velvet box one more time, taking
the ring and slipping it on again, to remind me not only of what I
had lost… but of all that was still left to live for.
Monday, October 21, 2013
Under the Stars
0300 hours on the clock was the only
indication that it was still the middle of the night. On the Xin
Caodi platform, the sky never changed, and quite frankly, she liked
it that way. No matter the time you could look out over the city and
see the soft glow of Djinn's Bane below, offset with the deep black
of space above. It was the perfect place for a lifelong pilot to put
down roots.
Not that the choice had really been
hers... sure it would have come eventually, but with things the way
they were... No, she wasn't going to go down that train of thought.
It didn’t lead to a good end and right now she wanted to enjoy the
good she had... A glance back over her shoulder to the sleeping
figure quickly returned the smile to her face.
Elias... how the hell did she manage to
get so damn lucky? What had been a chance encounter at a local bar
had turned into... well.. maybe that’s what her mind was trying to
figure out in the small hours of the morning. Turning from the
window, she padded barefoot across the apartment, carefully slipping
back into bed without waking him.
Propped up on her elbow, she watched
him sleep a while, letting her mind wander, for the first time in as
long as she cold remember, her jumbled thoughts peaceful. In just a
short few months he had become the center of her universe...
something she never thought she'd find again; hadn't found in this
life that Wirefly had dumped her into.
For the first time, she found she was
actually grateful for the opportunity the madman had given her...
the past seemed so far less important now than it once had. Here was
this man who had come into her life, stayed by and cared for her
whens he was ill, risked his life to help save hers... and even now,
with the problems the damn chip they'd put in her was causing; he
never once faltered.
So much stayed unspoken between them,
and that was just fine. Words only seemed to get in the way most of
the time, they either weren’t the right ones or they were just
not enough. Most times, it was enough to just let it be.. but tonight
was not most times.
With slow gentle movement, she leaned
close, whispering softly in his ear as he slept. Nestling back up
close, she closed her eyes, maybe some day she would find the right
moment when he was awake...
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Some Jackpot This Turned Out To Be...
After months of scrambling,
disappointments, dead ends, and what seemed like plain, old, bad
luck, they had hit what appeared to be a jackpot of a job. Tray
Porthos, captain of the Mk IV Firefly class freighter Tsunami,
received a wave over the Cortex from Mr. Xue, a notoriously nefarious
job broker and disreputable businessman based out of Booty Bay, about
an untouched derelict in a remote sector and his broker’s fee was
minimal – just one, specific supply container and the need for
utmost discretion and timeliness. It wasn’t often you came across
virgin derelicts with full crop, food, and medical supply manifests,
though, so the need for silence and speed was a no-brainer. As soon
as word got out, vultures from across several systems would be out to
scavenge the dead for anything that was worth a damn.
Of course Tray didn’t ask questions,
so he didn’t know how Xue may have come across such prime
information, or even why the normally steep broker’s fee was so
light. In his line of business, you didn’t look a gift horse in the
mouth, you certainly didn’t ask inconvenient questions - not if you
wanted to ever get another job, anyway – and you most definitely
didn’t ask questions when the person answering was someone as
sinister as Mr. Xue. All told, the job was big enough to warrant
hiring on more crew, and would still have them all sitting pretty for
a good, long while.
Given the short notice of the job, he
grabbed what folks were around and looking for work out of Booty Bay:
Mikie Rhiadra and Davion Holmeforth. It wasn’t a full crew, but it
was enough, and his pilot, Imrhien Fargis, knew full well how to fly
under the radar in order to keep anybody from getting curious, which
would hopefully buy them the time they needed. Tray and Imrhien had
decided not to give any details to either until they were well
underway. It wasn’t that Mikie and Davion couldn’t be trusted,
but you never knew who
might say the wrong thing to the wrong person
in passing thinking it was harmless, and as the old saying goes,
“loose lips sink ships.”
The journey out to the derelict was
uneventful. Not wanting to raise any eyebrows, or run into any
predators picking off the ships straying off the beaten path, Imrhien
kept Tsunami in regular shipping lanes until she could deviate her
course without notice. It wasn’t until they came upon the derelict,
a hulking freighter that easily dwarfed the firefly, that any hint of
unease took root in any of their guts.
Set lazily adrift in the void of space,
she was spinning very slowly on all three axes, suggesting there was
no power in the ship, and that the distant gravity well of the nearby
gas giant had begun needling the vessel, sluggishly drawing her
lifeless bulk toward her ultimate destruction in the embrace of its
crushing pressure. There was no evident physical damage to the
exterior hull, and so it was suggested that the ship had lost power
and her occupants had abandoned her. It would have had to have been
with assistance, as both of her shuttles were both still nestled into
their docking platforms against her massive underbelly.
After a bit of calculating and a
frightful amount of gut instinct, Imrhien had managed to dock Tsunami
with the derelict, and with much groaning protest from both ships, as
well as her three passengers, stabilized the nauseating spin of the
larger craft. She remained on the bridge to monitor the conditions of
both ships, as well as keep an eye on their surroundings. Just in
case. Tray, Mikie, and Davion had moved down to the cargo hold to
suit up in EVA gear as soon as their pilot’s eyeball-jarring
maneuvers had ceased. So far, things were going better than they
could have hoped.
As expected, they had to manually work
the airlock doors of the dead craft open. Once inside, no one was
surprised to find the life support and artificial gravity control
systems offline. They scouted the cargo hold, finding a veritable
wealth of crates, thankfully secured and seemingly undamaged. The
freight was all stacked neatly, tied down, and obviously organized.
Imrhien listened over the com channel as they scanned the cargo
manifest and, despite the pervasive feeling of dread, settled in for
a boring few hours nailed to the consoles. It wasn’t until they
moved further into the ship in order to seek out some clue about what
happened and how to restore power that it became quite evident
something was very wrong. In the darkness, broken up only by the
twinkling of console lights and screens, she heard the change in
their breathing. Now they were gasping, breathing rapidly, raggedly,
with a few tinny curses and quiet exclamations.
“Uh, y’all okay in there?”
Mikie was the one who responded.
“Deadpan, keep an eye out for trouble. Everyone on this boat’s
dead, and it wasn’t from natural causes.” That feeling of dread
that had taken hold increased tenfold, just based on the fact that
Mikie had used her old pilot callsign.
On the derelict, none of the three of
them could really have envisioned a more gruesome scene. They had
come out of the cargo bay and into a recreational room. Bodies
littered the space, no doubt disturbed from where they’d fallen as
their artificial gravity had been cut off. Some were riddled with
bullet holes. Others had been stabbed. One woman had her throat slit
open. Blood was everywhere; smeared, pooled, even droplets hanging in
space. The only sounds were from their own, ragged breathing.
What had done this? Or who, was more
likely. The obvious answer was Reavers, who came and killed and left.
But Reavers didn’t use guns. Pirates would have taken the cargo and
anything else of value, yet the hold was brimming with unmolested
goods. The pirate activity on the rim had definitely increased at an
alarming rate in recent months, but this didn’t fit the pattern at
all. Was it some kind of hit? The unanswered questions loomed
ominously over them.
As captain, it was Tray’s call, and
he made it. “We get the power back on to run interior lights and
artificial gravity so we can work faster, we get the cargo, and we
get the hell out of here. There’s nothing we can do to help these
people right now, but we got hired on for this job, so we have to do
what we came here for. Dav, you come with me to track down the engine
room. Mikie, you double back and get Tsunami’s the cargo bay sealed
off so we can open up the airlocks and pass freely between ships.
It’d be nice to work without these suits on, but I don’t relish
the idea of finding out what atmo might smell like in here.” Nobody
argued.
After sealing off the cargo hold to
maintain the integrity of the atmosphere throughout the rest of the
Firefly and opening a clear path between the two airlocks, Mikie was
able to utilize some of Tsunami’s artificial gravity to begin
maneuvering two pallet jacks into place. Once Tray and Davion
returned with reports of more of the same carnage throughout the
ship, followed by the evidence of the derelict’s power kicking back
to life, the fluorescent bulbs lining the ceiling of the bay
flickering on, they were able to begin working. Unlashing each pallet
of freight, they moved quickly to work out a system, loading it on a
hauler and carting it back to their ship with a speed borne of stark
fear and hopeful desperation.
Meanwhile, having been fully apprised
of the situation, Imrhien moved around the bridge, scanning the dark,
as well as familiarizing herself with their location. The gas giant
was the closest planetary body, looming somewhere beyond the bridge’s
viewport, but definitely within visual range. They were far enough
out in rim territory that there were no known settlements even
remotely proximate to their position. It was enough to give her a
small measure of reassurance that it was unlikely anyone might happen
across their path, at least not accidentally.
Still… This was an untouched
derelict, its existence, condition, and position were known, at least
in parts of the shady underground. How long would it be before some
authority came around looking for this freighter, with her tens of
thousands of credits worth of cargo, which had never made it to her
destination? How long had she been out here? How long had her crew
been corpses? Who was missing this shipment of supplies? Do we
have a solid alibi if we get caught pulling salvage?
And somewhere, there were the more
troubling questions. What had these people, these cold, dead,
slaughtered people had to endure? Why were they dead? Did they
deserve this? Shouldn’t we take the time to give them a proper
burial? But that last question was easily answered: No. When they got
back, they could alert someone, get the word down the wire to make
sure they were laid to rest properly, but it was too risky to do it
here and now, lest they be discovered and blamed for all the murders.
Long, tense minutes ticked by
uneventfully, slowly mounting into anxious hours. Imrhien longed to
be down there lending a hand, at least to fill that long stretch of
silence with physical labor as opposed to sitting back and waiting.
The others probably wouldn’t have minded the break. She knew,
though, that if something did happen, she needed to be here on the
bridge so that she would have time to react intelligently to a new
situation, as opposed to scrambling wildly. Still, the uneventful
passage of time as they hauled more and more of the cargo on board
gave them all a steadily increasing sense of relief.
As if on cue, when they were three
quarters of the way finished and their guard had almost entirely
dropped, a blip popped up on Tsunami’s sensor screens, triggering a
soft alarm. Imrhien cursed loudly, scanning her consoles for any and
all information on the incoming vessel, size, type, and their
direction of travel, even as she voiced into her com, “We’re
‘bout to have company. Whoever’s comin’s makin’ a beeline for
us, and they ain’t doin’ it slow.”
On the derelict, Tray began shouting
orders. “Mikie, Dav, get back to the ship now. We’re leaving.”
Everything was dropped, the remaining quarter of the cargo abandoned,
and equipment rushed back to Tsunami’s cargo bay. As soon as
everyone and everything was accounted for, Tray palmed the com panel
just inside the cargo bay from the airlock, calling up to the bridge,
“We’re back, Imrhien. Get us the hell out of here.”
Once she had the all clear, Imrhien
sealed off the airlocks and blew the docking seal, using attitude
thrusters to clear the derelict enough to swing the Firefly around.
She knew any ship that could come up on them that quickly was likely
significantly more advanced and would not only be able to detect that
they’d been there, but also easily be able to track and apprehend
them.
Proper planning does, as it turns out,
prevent piss poor performance, as well as awkward and uncomfortable
situations, such as trying to explain to some authority force why you
were docked with a derelict craft full of dead bodies and expensive
cargo. By the time she was positioned to move, Tray, Mikie, and
Davion were on the bridge, watching tensely through the viewport.
Hitting a few buttons and flipping one switch, Imrhien sent her plan
into action, casting off one very small and hopefully undetectable
item before proverbially putting the petal to the metal and hauling
off at full burn toward the distant gas giant. Data poured down her
screens, readings from the planet before her, as well as regarding
the approaching ship. Halfway to her intended destination, she hit
another series of switches, which resulted in a loud metallic
clanking for a few seconds. Tray quickly scanned the various displays
and gauges. He thought he knew every squeak, rattle and groan his
ship was capable of making, but this one was new. While alarming, he
kept his concern to himself; he knew that Imrhien was in ‘the
zone,’ as it were, and he was not going to do anything to break her
concentration.
Once she’d found what she was looking
for on the planet, the furthest magnetic pole from the derelict site,
and had adjusted trajectory, Imrhien killed power to Tsunami, keeping
only life support systems online as she guided the firefly toward the
blind spot with the intent that they would leave less of a heat or
particle signature for their pursuers to chase. Also, just in case
her first plan didn’t work, not leaving a trail straight to their
hiding spot could give her a few moments to figure something else
out. Or run.
--
The Federation
vessel, USS Heinlen, had slowed on their approach to the derelict.
The order to go investigate a report of a ship stranded at these
coordinates had, so far, been legitimate. The captain was worried,
given that there had been another ship docked to the craft in
question, but it had fled upon the Federation ship’s arrival. It
meant that this other ship was probably up to no good. If there were
crew and passengers on the stranded vessel, they might be in need of
medical attention.
The Starfleet captain ordered a full
scan of the damaged freighter. The fact that his crew reported back
that there were no life signs onboard was terribly worrisome. It made
the decision to leave the derelict to pursue the fleeing ship much
easier. Based on their scans, the vessel was somewhat substandard
technology for the human civilizations in nearby systems, a firefly
transport. It was obvious that the ship was heading for the gas giant
to hide, probably in one of the magnetic fields. Those ships lacked
any kind of FTL capability, so it wouldn’t be too difficult to
apprehend it. Ordering his own ship to follow their course for
intercept, he settled back into his chair, wondering what exactly
they were going to find. His gut told him nothing good.
A series of small explosions shuddered
against the hull as the net of photon flash-bang grenades Imrhien had
left behind annihilated. It wasn’t enough to do any damage, or even
give them any turbulence – they made a loud boom and a blinding
light – but it had triggered an alarm. The captain looked around,
the fact that all of the sensors were down took a moment to sink in.
--
“You weaponized my ship without
telling me?” Captain Tray Porthos exclaimed. He couldn’t decide
whether he wanted to strangle his pilot or kiss her, but decided that
either course of action would be extraordinarily dangerous.
Imrhien simply smiled, shrugging. “Like
hell I was gonna go flyin’ ‘round the ‘verse in a defenseless
boat. Anyhow, ain’t like I broke their ship or nothin’, prol’ly
didn’t even scratch her. Flash-bangs just play merry hell with
their sensors. They’ll be blind for a bit while we hide in the
magnetic field o’ the pole o’ this handy planet here.” Mikie
was laughing, already having figured out what Imrhien’s plan was.
Davion looked a bit pale, but chuckled with reassurance from Mikie’s
obvious mirth.
Tray shook his head slowly. “Right,
because they’ll never think to look for us behind the gorram
planet, let alone hiding in its magnetic field!”
Rolling her eyes, but still kept most
of her attention on her instruments, watching. “Would you relax,
Cap’n? They ain’t comin’ over here. They’ll haul off here in
a few minutes, ‘n we can get the hell outta dodge.”
“How in the nine hells do you know
that?” her captain queried, his calm demeanor starkly contrasting
with his question.
--
The captain of the USS Heinlen was
experiencing a moment of anger, as well as a sardonic sort of
sympathy for their quarry while he paced the bridge, waiting for
their sensors to come back online. If that was the best they could do
to throw a Federation ship off their trail… Especially if they
thought it had any chance of working…
Finally, he heard, “Captain, the
sensors are clearing, but I’m picking up a distress signal from a
ship approximately a half of a light year from our location…”
Sighing, he ordered his ship to make
all haste to assist the distressed ship. Despite being just about
positive this was a decoy to draw them away, there were regulations,
and he had to follow them. A ship in trouble trumped chasing down a
ship of potential pirates. He would just have to track them down
later using their scan logs.
--
“That’ll be a story to tell the
grandkids: How we narrowly outfoxed a Starfleet ship using only
flash-bang grenades and a crybaby.” Davion was still chuckling once
they were well out of hot water and safely camouflaged in regular
shipping lanes. All of them were still trying to shake off the
tension.
With her course set, Imrhien had turned
navigational controls over to autopilot in order to join the others
in the cargo bay. The four of them stood around the crate that Tray
had found and dug out. They had agreed that they definitely needed to
find out more about what was going on here, and the best place to
start was inside the container that Xue had sent them after in the
first place.
“We need to know what it is,” Tray
began, “But there’s a good chance somebody already tried to frame
us for killing all those folks. How can we be sure this thing isn’t
wired with enough explosives to blow us back to Earth That Was set to
go off as soon as we crack the lid on it? Maybe the crate’s
insurance that we’re outta the way, one way or another.”
“Less we gotta worry ‘bout if we do
explode.” Imrhien lifted up a crowbar and smacked it against the
plywood shell. “But I don’t reckon that’s gonna blow.” She
glanced over at Mikie, who was also brandishing a crowbar, and arched
an eyebrow. “What’cha think ‘bout this?”
Mikie answered by ramming the blade of
the crowbar under the wooden lid. “I think Xue wouldn’t betray
me. I also think if he wanted to kill or torture us, he wouldn’t
send us out and have the authorities do it; he’d want to do it
himself. And given who’s in this ship right now, framing us and
turning us over to the authorities would be an incredibly stupid move
on his part. Xue ain’t stupid, so this ain’t a bomb.” Imrhien
had also jammed her crowbar under the lid, and together, they pried
it open enough for Tray and Davion to strongarm it the rest of the
way off.
A container lay nested within, a large
metal tube that looked frighteningly like a missile, but without any
kind of propulsion system attached. A line of clear material ran
across the top, the inner sides of each pane lightly frosted around
the edges. The four of them leaned in to investigate further. Inside
the metal container were two bodies. Both appeared to be alive,
sleeping, maybe frozen, but definitely in some kind of stasis.
“Oh Jesus,” Imrhien said, arching
back from the container, her face pale.
“What the hell, Xue’s buying bodies
now?” Davion lowered himself to get a closer view.
“Like he’s never done that before,”
Mikie snorted. “Man ain’t got the morals of a hungry tomcat.”
“So, we’re trafficking humans?
That’s what this is about?” Tray asked.
Imrhien folded her arms across her
chest and stepped back up to the crate. “I’m pretty sure this
ain’t a slave trade thing, y’all. It’s way worse.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Tray furrowed his brow at her.
“’Cause that,” Imrhien said
quietly as she pointed at one of the bodies, “is Jo Massenberg.”
Monday, January 4, 2010
I Remember You
An eternity passed as she stared at the cold grey slab of metal before her. It was sturdy, the table in front of her; plain and functional. Four non-descript straight legs and the cold steel grey top. Nothing unusual the eye could see but the mind filled in the blanks. In the mind the table became a river raging through thoughts and memories, carrying them into one melting pool of time.
They were hers… of that she was certain. Nothing so vivid could belong to anyone else, or be pulled from the depths of imagination. Fighting to survive under the most impossible of situations, finding hope where the was none. Hours spent haunting the sky chasing phantoms as they tore holes through her reality.
She remembered with vivid clarity when they first took her, the hospital on Caprica where they carved her open and twisted her mind. Months later on New Caprica where her spirit was more captive than her body in the dollhouse of a prison he'd built to break her down. And he had.
Every tear, every heartbreak she wasn't allowed to feel because she was too strong, had to be the leader, had to hold up the image… They all raced past in the flow of the stream, tainted by crimson droplets that fell from an accidental yet unattended split lip.
The child she never knew she wanted, not hers, torn from her arms along with what was left of her soul. Drowning the sorrow and trying to patch the pieces of what was left with the bitter burn of sweet alcohol. Hitting that place of absolute nothingness and starting to rebuild the facade that would mask the depths of despair to everyone around once more.
The revelation, resolution; letting all the madness boil over and drift away until she could accept the fate that wasn't to be hers after all… Coming home.
Over and over each detail danced across the tabletop that flowed across the tabletop before her, drifting on a stream only she could see as his voice echoed in her ears and in her mind. He'd always known, always understood when no one else could even grasp. She understood why know… it was all in the stream, He was her, she was him, their experiences shared like two halves of the same spirit.
The artificial hiss of hydraulics forcing open the metallic hatch wasn't enough to draw her out of the stream, to make her look up, nor were the approaching footsteps, steady yet favored… the injury not yet healed. Even the folder dropping tot he table before her with an audible slap on the water's surface didn't bring her head up.
A heartbeat, maybe two longer her eyes lingered on the the thick metal cuffs that bound her wrists, the chain that looped secure through matching cuffs on her ankles. It was time to begin again. With a smile that was calm, almost pleased she began to lift her head, taking in first the hands that rested on the table. Hands she knew as well as her own, hands that had guided hers through a long, haggard path to find her destiny, touched her in ways only her soul could grasp, leaving her body crying, aching for more.
Beyond the hands she could see the the cuffs of the uniform jacket. So familiar yet so foreign now… had she once worn one just like it?
Finally she gifted herself with looking up into eyes of steel blue, tired eyes on a rugged, handsome face.. Every detail was as she remembered, and the glimmer of shock in his eyes said he remembered too, though it was still buried deep. Her smile quirked at the tousled short blonde hair even the military couldn't hope to tame… Even the impatience in his face mirrored what was once her own.
The impatient tapping of the pen on the folder came to an abrupt halt, when she finally spoke. Just three simple words would start everything that had already begun again, maybe this time they would get it right…
"I remember you…"
They were hers… of that she was certain. Nothing so vivid could belong to anyone else, or be pulled from the depths of imagination. Fighting to survive under the most impossible of situations, finding hope where the was none. Hours spent haunting the sky chasing phantoms as they tore holes through her reality.
She remembered with vivid clarity when they first took her, the hospital on Caprica where they carved her open and twisted her mind. Months later on New Caprica where her spirit was more captive than her body in the dollhouse of a prison he'd built to break her down. And he had.
Every tear, every heartbreak she wasn't allowed to feel because she was too strong, had to be the leader, had to hold up the image… They all raced past in the flow of the stream, tainted by crimson droplets that fell from an accidental yet unattended split lip.
The child she never knew she wanted, not hers, torn from her arms along with what was left of her soul. Drowning the sorrow and trying to patch the pieces of what was left with the bitter burn of sweet alcohol. Hitting that place of absolute nothingness and starting to rebuild the facade that would mask the depths of despair to everyone around once more.
The revelation, resolution; letting all the madness boil over and drift away until she could accept the fate that wasn't to be hers after all… Coming home.
Over and over each detail danced across the tabletop that flowed across the tabletop before her, drifting on a stream only she could see as his voice echoed in her ears and in her mind. He'd always known, always understood when no one else could even grasp. She understood why know… it was all in the stream, He was her, she was him, their experiences shared like two halves of the same spirit.
The artificial hiss of hydraulics forcing open the metallic hatch wasn't enough to draw her out of the stream, to make her look up, nor were the approaching footsteps, steady yet favored… the injury not yet healed. Even the folder dropping tot he table before her with an audible slap on the water's surface didn't bring her head up.
A heartbeat, maybe two longer her eyes lingered on the the thick metal cuffs that bound her wrists, the chain that looped secure through matching cuffs on her ankles. It was time to begin again. With a smile that was calm, almost pleased she began to lift her head, taking in first the hands that rested on the table. Hands she knew as well as her own, hands that had guided hers through a long, haggard path to find her destiny, touched her in ways only her soul could grasp, leaving her body crying, aching for more.
Beyond the hands she could see the the cuffs of the uniform jacket. So familiar yet so foreign now… had she once worn one just like it?
Finally she gifted herself with looking up into eyes of steel blue, tired eyes on a rugged, handsome face.. Every detail was as she remembered, and the glimmer of shock in his eyes said he remembered too, though it was still buried deep. Her smile quirked at the tousled short blonde hair even the military couldn't hope to tame… Even the impatience in his face mirrored what was once her own.
The impatient tapping of the pen on the folder came to an abrupt halt, when she finally spoke. Just three simple words would start everything that had already begun again, maybe this time they would get it right…
"I remember you…"
(untitled) - Start of another crossover
((Another victim of writer's block, would still like to see where this one goes one day))
"Galactica, Starbuck," The pilot spoke though the microphone inside her headset. "I'm picking up an abnormal reading bearing 127,39 karom 4, request permission for closer scan." the CAP had been the standard very dull routine that it had become since the truce. She'd been one of the few to argue it was still necessary as many had just fallen into a sense of security surrounding the whole thing. Her main reason had been it kept her flying.
"Copy Starbuck, we're not picking up anything from this range, permission to take a closer look granted." Came back the crackled reply.
"Copy that Galactica, Starbuck out." It was obvious they were humoring her, nothing of any significance had been turned up the last five times she'd thought she saw something. Likely they hadn't even looked.
Shrugging the thought off she angled off fro the fleet to go investigate the faint blip on her dradis, setting a direct heading. As she approached, the blip remained weak but constant. "Galactica, Starbuck, looks to be a glitch in the dradis system. There's nothing here..." There was nothing but static on the comm, though she was sure she'd not moved out of comm range... likely a short in the helmet system, again.
She moved just a little further out, to see if the signal changed, intending on turning back when the small craft was seemingly jerked from the spot it had been, lurching sideways through what felt like an extended FTL jump.
The viper jerked to a stop, throwing her against the canopy, descending her into blackness as she lost consciousness from the impact.
She didn't have time to determine how much time had passed when the radiological alarms on the console kicked in full force. The display indicated a massive radioactive concentration just ahead, and she looked up to see the most grotesque ship she had ever come across.
Nothing she had ever seen could even come close, cylon or human. It was big, battered, looked like it had been patched together from a dozen other ships. That was the pleasant part, what wasn't so pleasant was the fact it was reading as a giant mass of radioactivity, and had what looked like scorched skeletons strapped along its hull like trophies.
Before the shock of seeing it passed and she cold bank away, a thin harpoon on a chain shattered through the canopy, impaling her shoulder and pinning her to the seat. Had she been sitting straight it would have gone straight through her chest. "Son of a frakkin bitch!:" She hissed out, taking hold of the flight stick. Arming the two heat seekers the viper carried, she released them at the ship. No way in hell was something like that going to take her without a fight.
The explosion tore the ship into a hundred pieces, sending the viper end over end. The tear in her flight suit would burn up the oxygen in her reserve pack in a matter of minutes, she might be able to buy a few more if she could path the canopy with something and get its life support online.
Resigned to the fact it would likely do little good, she flicked on the distress beacon and closed her eyes, floating among the rubble of the other ship.
"Galactica, Starbuck," The pilot spoke though the microphone inside her headset. "I'm picking up an abnormal reading bearing 127,39 karom 4, request permission for closer scan." the CAP had been the standard very dull routine that it had become since the truce. She'd been one of the few to argue it was still necessary as many had just fallen into a sense of security surrounding the whole thing. Her main reason had been it kept her flying.
"Copy Starbuck, we're not picking up anything from this range, permission to take a closer look granted." Came back the crackled reply.
"Copy that Galactica, Starbuck out." It was obvious they were humoring her, nothing of any significance had been turned up the last five times she'd thought she saw something. Likely they hadn't even looked.
Shrugging the thought off she angled off fro the fleet to go investigate the faint blip on her dradis, setting a direct heading. As she approached, the blip remained weak but constant. "Galactica, Starbuck, looks to be a glitch in the dradis system. There's nothing here..." There was nothing but static on the comm, though she was sure she'd not moved out of comm range... likely a short in the helmet system, again.
She moved just a little further out, to see if the signal changed, intending on turning back when the small craft was seemingly jerked from the spot it had been, lurching sideways through what felt like an extended FTL jump.
The viper jerked to a stop, throwing her against the canopy, descending her into blackness as she lost consciousness from the impact.
She didn't have time to determine how much time had passed when the radiological alarms on the console kicked in full force. The display indicated a massive radioactive concentration just ahead, and she looked up to see the most grotesque ship she had ever come across.
Nothing she had ever seen could even come close, cylon or human. It was big, battered, looked like it had been patched together from a dozen other ships. That was the pleasant part, what wasn't so pleasant was the fact it was reading as a giant mass of radioactivity, and had what looked like scorched skeletons strapped along its hull like trophies.
Before the shock of seeing it passed and she cold bank away, a thin harpoon on a chain shattered through the canopy, impaling her shoulder and pinning her to the seat. Had she been sitting straight it would have gone straight through her chest. "Son of a frakkin bitch!:" She hissed out, taking hold of the flight stick. Arming the two heat seekers the viper carried, she released them at the ship. No way in hell was something like that going to take her without a fight.
The explosion tore the ship into a hundred pieces, sending the viper end over end. The tear in her flight suit would burn up the oxygen in her reserve pack in a matter of minutes, she might be able to buy a few more if she could path the canopy with something and get its life support online.
Resigned to the fact it would likely do little good, she flicked on the distress beacon and closed her eyes, floating among the rubble of the other ship.
Wings Across the Sky - Chapter 4/4 - Unfinished
“Just tell me what you want from Inara.” If Mal had known how far his voice would carry from the quiet bridge through the mostly silent ship, he wouldn’t have said a single word to the Companion when she stepped into the bridge. He was on watch, like he was most nights. Sleep wasn’t his friend anymore. Too many bad dreams mingled with worse memories.
“I just want to know how long this layover is going to be Mal. I have an appointment on Persephone, and for once I’d like to not be late.” Her lips were painted the same swollen berry red that they’d been the first time he’d seen her when she’d come to rent his shuttle.
“We’ll be there in plenty of time. Ath, will be able to get his jollies right on schedule. We’re in good shape and makin’ good time. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with Serenity for a change.” When she’d left him, them, he’d missed her every single day and night, but now he was wishing that she’d never agreed to stay on board. He had made her a whore this time. It wasn’t the Guild that he could blame.
“It’s not what’s wrong with Serenity that has me concerned Mal. I’m worried about you.”
“Well don’t be. Let’s make a deal,” his voice went cold as his eye turned to ice. “You don’t want me walkin’ into your shuttle unannounced, how ‘bout you stop comin’ on my bridge whenever you feel like bein’ a nag.”
“Fine!” Inara took a step back, and Mal fought the urge to say he was sorry. He shoved the concern back under the anger. Her feet made barely a sound as she raced back to her shuttle. “I won’t bother you any longer Captain Reynolds.”
“Good!” He picked up his coffee cup and took a long drink before he realized how cold and nasty it had gotten. With a frown he stomped on down through to the kitchen to get a refill.
“You need to stop doing that sir,” Zoë said from behind the counter where she was getting her own cup of what passed for coffee on Serenity.
“Please Zoë; I’ve already gotten into one fight tonight. Don’t want to get into one with you too.” He passed her his old blue cup and watched her fill it instead of making eye contact. He felt like a heel for the way he’d treated Inara.
“Why don’t you tell her the truth Mal.” That caught his attention. Zoë never used his name unless she meant for him to listen. “I lost Wash in a blink of my eyes. We thought we were safe, and then he was dead. She’s left you once. Why can’t you admit that you love her?”
“It wouldn’t do me any good if I did. I ain’t good enough for her Zoë, and I never will be. Any chance we had died when she went back to work.”
“But she did it to help us.”
“That’s what makes it worse, don’t you see?” Mal scrubbed at his face. “When she did it for her callin’, she was a companion. She does it now to make sure we’re never as desperate for money as we were when she was gone. I’ve made her a whore Zoë. I’ve ruined Inara, like I’ve ruined everything else I’ve ever loved.”
“You didn’t ruin Serenity Sir,” Zoë said as she reached over and squeezed his hand. “And you didn’t ruin me or River or Kaylee. Notice I only mention those of us you do love. You’ve got no responsibility when it comes to how fucked up Jayne is. He came that way.”
An alarm went off before Mal could say another word; he dropped his cup in the sink and raced back through the ship to the bridge. The ship rocked as a low powered shot hit them. Checking the scanners, Mal sent out a long string of curses as he answered the wave that was chiming in.
“Serenity, this is Alliance Captain Milton of the Starship Destiny. Prepare to be boarded and your cargo seized.”
((Hoping one day will find the thread to finish this one))
“I just want to know how long this layover is going to be Mal. I have an appointment on Persephone, and for once I’d like to not be late.” Her lips were painted the same swollen berry red that they’d been the first time he’d seen her when she’d come to rent his shuttle.
“We’ll be there in plenty of time. Ath, will be able to get his jollies right on schedule. We’re in good shape and makin’ good time. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with Serenity for a change.” When she’d left him, them, he’d missed her every single day and night, but now he was wishing that she’d never agreed to stay on board. He had made her a whore this time. It wasn’t the Guild that he could blame.
“It’s not what’s wrong with Serenity that has me concerned Mal. I’m worried about you.”
“Well don’t be. Let’s make a deal,” his voice went cold as his eye turned to ice. “You don’t want me walkin’ into your shuttle unannounced, how ‘bout you stop comin’ on my bridge whenever you feel like bein’ a nag.”
“Fine!” Inara took a step back, and Mal fought the urge to say he was sorry. He shoved the concern back under the anger. Her feet made barely a sound as she raced back to her shuttle. “I won’t bother you any longer Captain Reynolds.”
“Good!” He picked up his coffee cup and took a long drink before he realized how cold and nasty it had gotten. With a frown he stomped on down through to the kitchen to get a refill.
“You need to stop doing that sir,” Zoë said from behind the counter where she was getting her own cup of what passed for coffee on Serenity.
“Please Zoë; I’ve already gotten into one fight tonight. Don’t want to get into one with you too.” He passed her his old blue cup and watched her fill it instead of making eye contact. He felt like a heel for the way he’d treated Inara.
“Why don’t you tell her the truth Mal.” That caught his attention. Zoë never used his name unless she meant for him to listen. “I lost Wash in a blink of my eyes. We thought we were safe, and then he was dead. She’s left you once. Why can’t you admit that you love her?”
“It wouldn’t do me any good if I did. I ain’t good enough for her Zoë, and I never will be. Any chance we had died when she went back to work.”
“But she did it to help us.”
“That’s what makes it worse, don’t you see?” Mal scrubbed at his face. “When she did it for her callin’, she was a companion. She does it now to make sure we’re never as desperate for money as we were when she was gone. I’ve made her a whore Zoë. I’ve ruined Inara, like I’ve ruined everything else I’ve ever loved.”
“You didn’t ruin Serenity Sir,” Zoë said as she reached over and squeezed his hand. “And you didn’t ruin me or River or Kaylee. Notice I only mention those of us you do love. You’ve got no responsibility when it comes to how fucked up Jayne is. He came that way.”
An alarm went off before Mal could say another word; he dropped his cup in the sink and raced back through the ship to the bridge. The ship rocked as a low powered shot hit them. Checking the scanners, Mal sent out a long string of curses as he answered the wave that was chiming in.
“Serenity, this is Alliance Captain Milton of the Starship Destiny. Prepare to be boarded and your cargo seized.”
((Hoping one day will find the thread to finish this one))
Wings Across the Sky - Chapter 3/4 - Unfinished
The room she'd beens shown to was small by most standards, but it was far more space than she was used to. Life in the fleet had been pretty much living in one another's back pockets, and on Lilac it had been worse. Not enough shelter or supplies to go around meant overcrowding and general misery.
She'd not even hesitated once Zoe had left her, grabbing a relatively clean change of clothes she'd kept packed in the bottom of her duffle since landing on that desolate rock. She filled the small washbasin, stripped off her dust encrusted shirt and proceeded to wash away what she could of the dirt that clung to her skin. Never did she think she would be so appreciative of freshly recycled water.
The engines of the ship firing up made the deck plates tremble, the water in the sink rippling rapidly. A sigh of relief met the sound as she closed her eyes. She was finally going to be free of here.
Changed and feeling considerably cleaner, she eventually made her way to the lower common area near the passenger berths. Up several winding metal staircases she eventually found the common dining room, which was painted an abnormally cheerful yellow. What caught her eye most was when she looked up, the stars now visible through the high windows.
She'd been sure to stay back out of the way, just letting herself get lost in the view as they left the atmosphere completely, leaving the dustball behind.
***
After two days on board, she was wishin like hell she had forever to stay, but with each passing day they got closer to Persephone where she'd be parting ways with the crew. It wasn't as though she'd made close friends with them, but they were for the most part pleasant with her.
The Captain, he kept to himself, she mostly only saw him at mealtime. He was deeply troubled by something. He spoke little and hung around even less. What was more telling were the looks the crew would exchange among themselves when he'd leave. There was definitely something going on that had him troubled.
In her mind she'd dubbed Kaylee the ambassador of cheerfulness. She was pretty sure nothing could bring that girl down. And at times it was infectious…. She'd seen it in action at the dinner-table, The girl could even make Captain Reynolds smile.
It didn't take a rocket scientist to see Kaylee was sweet on the ship's doctor, Simon. Somon seemed to manage his time well between his sweetheart and his younger sister River, who was nothing but an enigma to Kara.
Zoe was one Kara understood, in fact she was much a mirror image of herself. Career military, fiercely loyal to her captain, and recently widowed… They'd traded stories the night before over a bottle of weak whiskey. It was badly watered down but neither acknowledged. It made it easier to talk, pretending it was the whiskey doing the talking. All things considered, it was a good thing the whiskey had been watered down to nothing but flavor, otherwise they would both have very large painful heads today.
However, the bonding with the first mate may never had happened had it not been for Jayne.
It turned out Janye was the epitome if big dumb muscle. It hadn't mattered in the least how often she'd told him she wasn't the least bit interested in his gun collection, he still insisted. He would just not let it go. Sure as she was he really did have quite a collection, no way in hell was she going down into his bunk to see it.
Add that to the constant harassment he dished out upon the other women on the ship… She was pretty sure she'd seen Captain Reynolds throw him a warning glare or two over dinner the night before. He was pretty much everything she disliked in a man.
That made it pretty easy when he'd finally cornered her. He towered over her by a good foot in height, and he'd definitely had a drink or two, it was all you could smell on him. Likely thought it would give him the courage to push her just a little. She'd never worried he would push to far, he was dumb, not a creep. She just needed to give him a lesson that was on his level. A lesson that wound up with him kissing carpet, his wrist making friendly with his shoulder blades and a rather heavy boot holding his head still.
She'd let him up right away and he got up, looking a little wounded as he stated simply. "Gorramit woman, coulda just said no…" What followed was the first time Kara had seen Zoe smile. She'd later find out it was because that moment made her think of her late husband, as he was always amused when Jayne got put in his place by a woman.
That left just one other person on the crew for her to really meet. Inara. She'd seen the woman several times, though usually it was after Inara had been talking to the Captain, which always seemed to put her in a foul mood and she'd disappear for hours. Kaylee had once tried to explain that Inara was a companion and the Captain didn't much like it, though kara hadn't bothered to ask what exactly a companion was. The name pretty much put some ideas in her head as to what it entailed.
It was late, everyone had long since retired to their bunks, so she did the same. As she lay on her bunk she could hear the faint creak and groan of the metal hull. The low hum of the engines as the small ship coasted through space.
Tomorrow would be a long day. They had a stop to make, so she'd been told, ships business… Which, just being a passenger didn't concern her at all. So why the hell did the thought bother her so much?
She'd not even hesitated once Zoe had left her, grabbing a relatively clean change of clothes she'd kept packed in the bottom of her duffle since landing on that desolate rock. She filled the small washbasin, stripped off her dust encrusted shirt and proceeded to wash away what she could of the dirt that clung to her skin. Never did she think she would be so appreciative of freshly recycled water.
The engines of the ship firing up made the deck plates tremble, the water in the sink rippling rapidly. A sigh of relief met the sound as she closed her eyes. She was finally going to be free of here.
Changed and feeling considerably cleaner, she eventually made her way to the lower common area near the passenger berths. Up several winding metal staircases she eventually found the common dining room, which was painted an abnormally cheerful yellow. What caught her eye most was when she looked up, the stars now visible through the high windows.
She'd been sure to stay back out of the way, just letting herself get lost in the view as they left the atmosphere completely, leaving the dustball behind.
***
After two days on board, she was wishin like hell she had forever to stay, but with each passing day they got closer to Persephone where she'd be parting ways with the crew. It wasn't as though she'd made close friends with them, but they were for the most part pleasant with her.
The Captain, he kept to himself, she mostly only saw him at mealtime. He was deeply troubled by something. He spoke little and hung around even less. What was more telling were the looks the crew would exchange among themselves when he'd leave. There was definitely something going on that had him troubled.
In her mind she'd dubbed Kaylee the ambassador of cheerfulness. She was pretty sure nothing could bring that girl down. And at times it was infectious…. She'd seen it in action at the dinner-table, The girl could even make Captain Reynolds smile.
It didn't take a rocket scientist to see Kaylee was sweet on the ship's doctor, Simon. Somon seemed to manage his time well between his sweetheart and his younger sister River, who was nothing but an enigma to Kara.
Zoe was one Kara understood, in fact she was much a mirror image of herself. Career military, fiercely loyal to her captain, and recently widowed… They'd traded stories the night before over a bottle of weak whiskey. It was badly watered down but neither acknowledged. It made it easier to talk, pretending it was the whiskey doing the talking. All things considered, it was a good thing the whiskey had been watered down to nothing but flavor, otherwise they would both have very large painful heads today.
However, the bonding with the first mate may never had happened had it not been for Jayne.
It turned out Janye was the epitome if big dumb muscle. It hadn't mattered in the least how often she'd told him she wasn't the least bit interested in his gun collection, he still insisted. He would just not let it go. Sure as she was he really did have quite a collection, no way in hell was she going down into his bunk to see it.
Add that to the constant harassment he dished out upon the other women on the ship… She was pretty sure she'd seen Captain Reynolds throw him a warning glare or two over dinner the night before. He was pretty much everything she disliked in a man.
That made it pretty easy when he'd finally cornered her. He towered over her by a good foot in height, and he'd definitely had a drink or two, it was all you could smell on him. Likely thought it would give him the courage to push her just a little. She'd never worried he would push to far, he was dumb, not a creep. She just needed to give him a lesson that was on his level. A lesson that wound up with him kissing carpet, his wrist making friendly with his shoulder blades and a rather heavy boot holding his head still.
She'd let him up right away and he got up, looking a little wounded as he stated simply. "Gorramit woman, coulda just said no…" What followed was the first time Kara had seen Zoe smile. She'd later find out it was because that moment made her think of her late husband, as he was always amused when Jayne got put in his place by a woman.
That left just one other person on the crew for her to really meet. Inara. She'd seen the woman several times, though usually it was after Inara had been talking to the Captain, which always seemed to put her in a foul mood and she'd disappear for hours. Kaylee had once tried to explain that Inara was a companion and the Captain didn't much like it, though kara hadn't bothered to ask what exactly a companion was. The name pretty much put some ideas in her head as to what it entailed.
It was late, everyone had long since retired to their bunks, so she did the same. As she lay on her bunk she could hear the faint creak and groan of the metal hull. The low hum of the engines as the small ship coasted through space.
Tomorrow would be a long day. They had a stop to make, so she'd been told, ships business… Which, just being a passenger didn't concern her at all. So why the hell did the thought bother her so much?
Wings Across the Sky - Chapter 2/4 - Unfinished
When the call had come in about the job, an actual mostly legal job, Mal had been happy about catching the Wave. But the happy lasted only as long as it took for Zoe to tell him where the job was. A dry swallow ate the name Lilac, and he shoved it down into his gut with all the rest of his guilt and regrets.
“Captain?” Kaylee rocked on the toes of her boots beside him, a bright smile on her face. They both watched as the ramp lowered onto the dust bowl moon that was all the Reavers had left behind. “You all right?”
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with me,” he said as he tugged on his gloves. “Make sure we’re ready to go soon as they get their cargo. Don’t want to spend anymore time here as we have to.”
“Don’t worry. Jayne an’ I’ll handle it. Where are you goin’?” her dark eyes filled with concern as Mal started walking down the ramp.
“Need to see a man ‘bout a mule,” was Mal’s bitter reply. The sun was brilliant, and not for the first time he wished that he wore a hat to shade his eyes. Serenity had landed near the new settlement where the Colonial refugees had made their home, but it wasn’t too terribly far from the old settlement where he and a trio of his crew were the last people to walk out on their own.
Even through the thick patina of dust and grime, he could still see the battle scars from the Reaver weapons on the walls of the surviving buildings. Here and there were the brown stains of the blood of the fallen. The Alliance had done a shiny job of hiding what had happened, but Malcolm Reynolds knew better he’d been there.
He stopped in front of the bar where he’d shot a man who’d been begging him for help. He’d called it a kindness to justify what he’d done, but that kindness was churning in his belly like a snake made out of broken glass.
“I’m sorry,” he said as the wind tore the words from his lips, drying the tear that slid down from one blue eye. “Should’ve taken the chance. Won’t forget what I done to you. I ain’t never goin’ to leave another soul behind that wants away from this or anyplace long as I can get to the Black.”
Reaching into his pocket, he drew out a pair of silver coins. Hunkering down on his heels, Mal scooped out a few inches of dusty soil and buried the twin coins. “They used to put coins on the eyes of the dead. This is the best I can do for you and yours.”
By the time he walked back to Serenity, he was more than ready to leave. Then she came asking for passage. It was almost as if he’d been the one who could read the future and not the little Albatross. He looked at the coins he’d been given by Kara Thrace, wasn’t nearly enough to get her off of any normal piss hole planet. He’d have tried to up the ante, see what else he could get from her.
But not on Lilac. Any amount of change was good enough on Lilac.
###
The cargo bay was empty when he prepped Serenity to break atmo. It’d be a good long time before the colonists had anything to trade to the outside world. For now all they had was money. Mal hoped that the seeds they’d brought would help them make something out of the place.
“There are worse planets,” Jayne said as he stomped onto the bridge. “Least there ain’t no more Reavers.”
“There are still Reavers, Jayne,” Mal answered as he started flipping switches along Wash’s station. It would always be Wash’s station, no matter how long Mal was filling in as pilot. Even if he hired a new one, they’d be told to use the co-pilot’s. ‘They just ain’t all covered in skin and piercings. Some of ‘em just work for the Feds is all. Our passenger all settled? I want off of this piece of shit now.”
“Think so. Zoe’s doin’ the tour.” The big mercenary rubbed at the back of his neck and shrugged. “She’s pretty.”
“Zoe?” Mal’s thought he heard Wash’s voice scream in his head that Jayne was NEVER to say that he thought Zoe was pretty. But then again, it might have been his own voice. “Yeah, Jayne Zoe’s pretty, but don’t tell her that. She’ll get a big head.”
“No, not Zoe Mal. The passenger. She’s pretty.”
“Didn’t notice,” Mal said with not a small amount of relief. The last thing he wanted was to watch Jayne get some kind of insane crush on Zoe. She was still hurt. She tried to hide it, but Mal knew her better than he knew himself. “All I noticed was her money was good.”
Wasn’t really all he’d noticed. But he didn’t really want to warn Jayne that Kara Thrace looked like she could kick the shit out of him just as easily as Zoe could. Where would the fun be in that?
“I’ll tell ‘em we’re leavin’ then.”
“You do that,” Mal said as he sat down in Wash’s seat. He waited until the sound of Jayne’s boots stopped echoing down the passageway, and started up Serenity’s engines. With his eyes closed, he listened to the rough thrum of the engine turning, and waited until he heard the sweet sound of her settling in. That was when it was time for lift off, not before. The take off was smooth as one of Inara’s silk dresses. “Well now, seems I’m gettin’ pretty good at this.”
“Thankfully,” Inara said as they broke into the Black. The stars in the sky nearly as bright as the sparkling jewels she’d woven into her hair. “But you do need to work on the landings. I still need to replace one of my tea sets.”
“I’m sure y’all make enough to replace it Inara.” He glanced back at her. She was dressed for work. A job he’d hoped she wouldn’t go back to, but it was the only way she knew. At least she was out there with them, and not at the temple teaching new girls. But with them, was never going to be the same as with him, and he knew it. “Picked up a passenger. Why don’t you go say hello?”
“Captain?” Kaylee rocked on the toes of her boots beside him, a bright smile on her face. They both watched as the ramp lowered onto the dust bowl moon that was all the Reavers had left behind. “You all right?”
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with me,” he said as he tugged on his gloves. “Make sure we’re ready to go soon as they get their cargo. Don’t want to spend anymore time here as we have to.”
“Don’t worry. Jayne an’ I’ll handle it. Where are you goin’?” her dark eyes filled with concern as Mal started walking down the ramp.
“Need to see a man ‘bout a mule,” was Mal’s bitter reply. The sun was brilliant, and not for the first time he wished that he wore a hat to shade his eyes. Serenity had landed near the new settlement where the Colonial refugees had made their home, but it wasn’t too terribly far from the old settlement where he and a trio of his crew were the last people to walk out on their own.
Even through the thick patina of dust and grime, he could still see the battle scars from the Reaver weapons on the walls of the surviving buildings. Here and there were the brown stains of the blood of the fallen. The Alliance had done a shiny job of hiding what had happened, but Malcolm Reynolds knew better he’d been there.
He stopped in front of the bar where he’d shot a man who’d been begging him for help. He’d called it a kindness to justify what he’d done, but that kindness was churning in his belly like a snake made out of broken glass.
“I’m sorry,” he said as the wind tore the words from his lips, drying the tear that slid down from one blue eye. “Should’ve taken the chance. Won’t forget what I done to you. I ain’t never goin’ to leave another soul behind that wants away from this or anyplace long as I can get to the Black.”
Reaching into his pocket, he drew out a pair of silver coins. Hunkering down on his heels, Mal scooped out a few inches of dusty soil and buried the twin coins. “They used to put coins on the eyes of the dead. This is the best I can do for you and yours.”
By the time he walked back to Serenity, he was more than ready to leave. Then she came asking for passage. It was almost as if he’d been the one who could read the future and not the little Albatross. He looked at the coins he’d been given by Kara Thrace, wasn’t nearly enough to get her off of any normal piss hole planet. He’d have tried to up the ante, see what else he could get from her.
But not on Lilac. Any amount of change was good enough on Lilac.
###
The cargo bay was empty when he prepped Serenity to break atmo. It’d be a good long time before the colonists had anything to trade to the outside world. For now all they had was money. Mal hoped that the seeds they’d brought would help them make something out of the place.
“There are worse planets,” Jayne said as he stomped onto the bridge. “Least there ain’t no more Reavers.”
“There are still Reavers, Jayne,” Mal answered as he started flipping switches along Wash’s station. It would always be Wash’s station, no matter how long Mal was filling in as pilot. Even if he hired a new one, they’d be told to use the co-pilot’s. ‘They just ain’t all covered in skin and piercings. Some of ‘em just work for the Feds is all. Our passenger all settled? I want off of this piece of shit now.”
“Think so. Zoe’s doin’ the tour.” The big mercenary rubbed at the back of his neck and shrugged. “She’s pretty.”
“Zoe?” Mal’s thought he heard Wash’s voice scream in his head that Jayne was NEVER to say that he thought Zoe was pretty. But then again, it might have been his own voice. “Yeah, Jayne Zoe’s pretty, but don’t tell her that. She’ll get a big head.”
“No, not Zoe Mal. The passenger. She’s pretty.”
“Didn’t notice,” Mal said with not a small amount of relief. The last thing he wanted was to watch Jayne get some kind of insane crush on Zoe. She was still hurt. She tried to hide it, but Mal knew her better than he knew himself. “All I noticed was her money was good.”
Wasn’t really all he’d noticed. But he didn’t really want to warn Jayne that Kara Thrace looked like she could kick the shit out of him just as easily as Zoe could. Where would the fun be in that?
“I’ll tell ‘em we’re leavin’ then.”
“You do that,” Mal said as he sat down in Wash’s seat. He waited until the sound of Jayne’s boots stopped echoing down the passageway, and started up Serenity’s engines. With his eyes closed, he listened to the rough thrum of the engine turning, and waited until he heard the sweet sound of her settling in. That was when it was time for lift off, not before. The take off was smooth as one of Inara’s silk dresses. “Well now, seems I’m gettin’ pretty good at this.”
“Thankfully,” Inara said as they broke into the Black. The stars in the sky nearly as bright as the sparkling jewels she’d woven into her hair. “But you do need to work on the landings. I still need to replace one of my tea sets.”
“I’m sure y’all make enough to replace it Inara.” He glanced back at her. She was dressed for work. A job he’d hoped she wouldn’t go back to, but it was the only way she knew. At least she was out there with them, and not at the temple teaching new girls. But with them, was never going to be the same as with him, and he knew it. “Picked up a passenger. Why don’t you go say hello?”
Wings Across the Sky - Chapter 1/4 - Unfinished
((Another I started working on with a friend, unfortunately bad writer's block stalled it indefinitely, and I have since lost touch with the friend, who knows if it will ever be finished))
The dust whipped around, biting at any exposed skin, stinging eyes and making breathing difficult. The cloud was so thick one could barely see the metallic bulk responsible for it settle to the ground. Nine months on this desolate rock and this was only the second transport ship to bring supplies. The first had been two days after they'd arrived. Basic food supplies, crop seeds, theoretically enough to get them settled. Not everyone was thrilled with the idea of farming, but they were alive. If you could call this dust ball living, it made New Caprica look downright inviting, and all things considered, that was not saying much at all.
What was worst was what they took. Most of the ships had been barely flight worthy, and coming into the atmosphere had done nothing to help that, so they'd become permanent fixtures on the ground, serving as homes and shelters against the unforgiving climate. The ships that had still been air worthy had been taken, apparently to be returned sometime later, but Galactica and the crew that had remained on board hadn't been seen or heard from since.
Zarek had assumed leadership. It was frakked up all to hell but he did look out for the people, and he sure the hell couldn't do worse than Baltar had. Hell had he been in charge at the time the Alliance encountered them maybe they would have found a better rock to dump them on. One that hadn't already been wiped out before. A scouting party had found the abandoned settlement the same afternoon the transport had dropped off supplies. The signs of struggle were evident but not a trace of who had been there before remained. Orders had been to scavenge everything they could and keep quiet. They'd established their own settlement several miles from where the other had been. Those who knew of the ghost town decided it best not to mention, things were dire enough without a panicked population.
They'd had no contact from the Alliance since. No supplies, no word… hell who knew if they were even still out there. The few thousand that remained went about setting up a new life, though sickness had claimed so many over the winder that had passed. Now there were less than twenty five thousand, and I was beginning to look like they'd just been left out here to die.
Then things had changed, word came about the transport arriving and there was a spark of hope among the colonials once again. Kara wasn't really sure how Zarek had managed it, but there was now a transport touching down with much needed medical supplies, food, and whatever else they were able to scrounge together. What was on the transport, she really wasn't interested, what she was looking for was a way out.
As the transaction took place, money and goods changing hands, she hung back, just observing the crew. Her hand settled over her pocket, a pouch of coins tucked inside. Coins she'd scavenged from those burned out buildings on that first scouting trip so many months ago. Most they'd turned over to the government, but Kara had tucked away a portion of whatever she found for herself. She'd been planning even then to find a way to buy passage away from here, away from everything. She just hadn't expected it to be so long in coming.
The dust had settled, and the supplies were being hauled back towards the settlement when she approached the ship. The man she assumed was Captain was looking out over the filed towards the old settlement, his expression almost haunted. He turned to Kara as she approached, eyebrow slightly raised in curiosity, though it would have been hard for a trained soldier to miss the slight flinch in his hand, prepared to go for his gun should he need to.. He was obviously used to things going bad.
"You take on passengers? I can pay…" She called out as she approached. At the mention of money his posture shifted, far more welcoming than before, some of the defensive stance gone.
"Depends, where you're intent on traveling to, we don't tend to go into toe core none to often."
"Suits me fine, just want off this rock, get somewhere I can find work." She pulled one of the small bag of coins from her pocket, tossing it to him." To be honest I've no idea how far that will get me, but we haven't got much here…"
His expression stayed mostly neutral, he'd have made a good gambler, as he looked at the contents of the bag. "Well, if you don't mind making a few little stops along the way, we can get you to persephone inside of a fortnight."
"Suits me fine…" She smiled a little, the prospect of getting off the rock finally making her feel a little bit lighter.
"In that case. I"m Malcom Reynolds, your captain, welcome aboard Serenity." he said with a lazy smile extending his hand which she took in a firm handshake.
"Kara Thrace… and you have no idea just how happy I am to meet you." Her eyes lit up with a smirk and for a moment it felt like she had already lifted off.
With a nod he turned, motioning her to follow him up the ramp and into the belly of the transport. "Zoe will show you to the passenger quarters, generally cargo bay is off limits to everyone but crew, so best you take whatever you need with you." He nodded towards a beautiful, dark skinned woman. "Mealtime's round about two hors from now, you might well go get settled" he said before moving off once more.
Kara followed Zoe through into the passenger bunks, listening as she set out the ships rules, gave her a general indication of where things were, then disappeared once Kara'd been shown her room.
Overall, the crew seemed to be a sad lot, yet there was a closeness between them. Something she could relate to well… you had to be able to count on the people you flew with… your life could depend on it. And thought he ship itself may have seemed old, and they were complete strangers to her, there was a familiarity she could relate to and she felt she'd secured herself a relatively safe journey into the unknown.
The dust whipped around, biting at any exposed skin, stinging eyes and making breathing difficult. The cloud was so thick one could barely see the metallic bulk responsible for it settle to the ground. Nine months on this desolate rock and this was only the second transport ship to bring supplies. The first had been two days after they'd arrived. Basic food supplies, crop seeds, theoretically enough to get them settled. Not everyone was thrilled with the idea of farming, but they were alive. If you could call this dust ball living, it made New Caprica look downright inviting, and all things considered, that was not saying much at all.
What was worst was what they took. Most of the ships had been barely flight worthy, and coming into the atmosphere had done nothing to help that, so they'd become permanent fixtures on the ground, serving as homes and shelters against the unforgiving climate. The ships that had still been air worthy had been taken, apparently to be returned sometime later, but Galactica and the crew that had remained on board hadn't been seen or heard from since.
Zarek had assumed leadership. It was frakked up all to hell but he did look out for the people, and he sure the hell couldn't do worse than Baltar had. Hell had he been in charge at the time the Alliance encountered them maybe they would have found a better rock to dump them on. One that hadn't already been wiped out before. A scouting party had found the abandoned settlement the same afternoon the transport had dropped off supplies. The signs of struggle were evident but not a trace of who had been there before remained. Orders had been to scavenge everything they could and keep quiet. They'd established their own settlement several miles from where the other had been. Those who knew of the ghost town decided it best not to mention, things were dire enough without a panicked population.
They'd had no contact from the Alliance since. No supplies, no word… hell who knew if they were even still out there. The few thousand that remained went about setting up a new life, though sickness had claimed so many over the winder that had passed. Now there were less than twenty five thousand, and I was beginning to look like they'd just been left out here to die.
Then things had changed, word came about the transport arriving and there was a spark of hope among the colonials once again. Kara wasn't really sure how Zarek had managed it, but there was now a transport touching down with much needed medical supplies, food, and whatever else they were able to scrounge together. What was on the transport, she really wasn't interested, what she was looking for was a way out.
As the transaction took place, money and goods changing hands, she hung back, just observing the crew. Her hand settled over her pocket, a pouch of coins tucked inside. Coins she'd scavenged from those burned out buildings on that first scouting trip so many months ago. Most they'd turned over to the government, but Kara had tucked away a portion of whatever she found for herself. She'd been planning even then to find a way to buy passage away from here, away from everything. She just hadn't expected it to be so long in coming.
The dust had settled, and the supplies were being hauled back towards the settlement when she approached the ship. The man she assumed was Captain was looking out over the filed towards the old settlement, his expression almost haunted. He turned to Kara as she approached, eyebrow slightly raised in curiosity, though it would have been hard for a trained soldier to miss the slight flinch in his hand, prepared to go for his gun should he need to.. He was obviously used to things going bad.
"You take on passengers? I can pay…" She called out as she approached. At the mention of money his posture shifted, far more welcoming than before, some of the defensive stance gone.
"Depends, where you're intent on traveling to, we don't tend to go into toe core none to often."
"Suits me fine, just want off this rock, get somewhere I can find work." She pulled one of the small bag of coins from her pocket, tossing it to him." To be honest I've no idea how far that will get me, but we haven't got much here…"
His expression stayed mostly neutral, he'd have made a good gambler, as he looked at the contents of the bag. "Well, if you don't mind making a few little stops along the way, we can get you to persephone inside of a fortnight."
"Suits me fine…" She smiled a little, the prospect of getting off the rock finally making her feel a little bit lighter.
"In that case. I"m Malcom Reynolds, your captain, welcome aboard Serenity." he said with a lazy smile extending his hand which she took in a firm handshake.
"Kara Thrace… and you have no idea just how happy I am to meet you." Her eyes lit up with a smirk and for a moment it felt like she had already lifted off.
With a nod he turned, motioning her to follow him up the ramp and into the belly of the transport. "Zoe will show you to the passenger quarters, generally cargo bay is off limits to everyone but crew, so best you take whatever you need with you." He nodded towards a beautiful, dark skinned woman. "Mealtime's round about two hors from now, you might well go get settled" he said before moving off once more.
Kara followed Zoe through into the passenger bunks, listening as she set out the ships rules, gave her a general indication of where things were, then disappeared once Kara'd been shown her room.
Overall, the crew seemed to be a sad lot, yet there was a closeness between them. Something she could relate to well… you had to be able to count on the people you flew with… your life could depend on it. And thought he ship itself may have seemed old, and they were complete strangers to her, there was a familiarity she could relate to and she felt she'd secured herself a relatively safe journey into the unknown.
A lot of old work
There were a LOT of old stories I worked on, rather than re-post them here I will link to the journal they are on. These were written in tandem with a friend at the time, probably my most prolific writing period. Feel free to browse the list and read at your leisure.
The Journal is no longer being maintained, but it will remain up i have been told.
The Journal is no longer being maintained, but it will remain up i have been told.
Muse Topics 4
If you could wish for one thing, and be assured of getting it, what would you wish for?
If I could wish for something and be assured of getting it, what would it be? For one day I wish I could know what was going on inside my best friend’s head. I would give anything to really know what he’s thinking when he gives me that lopsided grin. The grin he seems to reserve only for me… I’ve seen him grin at other people, but it’s not the same grin. This one has a special quality. Sometimes I like to think its affection… I wish I knew.
I wish I knew what it was that made his eyes light up just that way. He’s got the most incredible eyes… though many only see the icy blue businesslike gaze, there is another. A warm, soothing look, where the icy blue gives way to a tropical azure that could entrance even the coldest of hearts to gaze into their depths for hours if he would let them. But that look is fleeting. I only catch it on occasion when I turn around quickly. Within seconds the steel blue is back. What is he thinking then? I wish I knew…
I wish I knew where I stood… What does he really think of me? Am I really just a pilot to him? He’s more than just the CAG to me. Am I just his best friend? Gods I know I’m that but could I be more? Would he let me? I think I know how I feel about him, but how does he feel about me?
I wish I knew.
What do you think of when you hear the word - Fear?
Fear.
Now there is a word I am all too sick and tired of hearing, of seeing… I see it in the eyes of the nuggets when the klaxons sound the first time after they get their wings. The ones whose eyes I see it in… They're the ones I won't see make it back, maybe not this time, but the next.
With what we do, fear is instant death.
You have to go out there every time and look those metal motherfrakkers right in their glowing red eye and not flinch. If you flinch you're dead, your wingman is dead… the raider gets through. There is a saying that we live by… "You're already dead but you just don' know it." You live by that and you don't fear dying. You live every frakkin moment to the fullest. Seize every second and make the most of it cause one day, you're gonna be off your game and you're gonna be frakked right up the exhaust pipe.
Its true what they say, the only thing to fear, is fear itself. I don't fear dying, I don't fear injury. I don't fear reproach or punishment. The only thing I fear… is that one day I will look into that glowing red orb and be afraid.
Tell a story about the dumbest thing you've ever done.
I still sit here and think of just where the evening started to go wrong… I think it was about the time I decided to prove that I could clean up real good… in the hopes of rendering him speechless. There I was, me, the biggest tomboy in the 12 colonies, dolled up in a dress and heels, hair done, the works…. Well it worked. Lee was speechless alright, managed the corniest of compliments… Gods he was adorable… Awestruck even… Moments later we were on the dancefloor, dancing, laughing, and enjoying one another's company…
The next thing I know Gaius cuts in and Lee is gone… Gaius is smooth and free with the compliments, and with the ambrosia… Too free… Ambrosia and I are old friends. My partner in crime as it were. I'm not sure at what point, but somewhere along the line I wound up back in his room for yet one more glass of that fine liquor. I think I left my better judgment back at the dance…
Flirting turns to touching… and Gods it's been too long so I surrender… Even though I he was the farthest one from my mind… a fact which later became painfully evident for both of us…
I barely dress enough to e decent and retreat to the safety of my bunk… wishing like hell the bulkhead would just open up and swallow me whole… Gods how could I let that happen… Only ambrosia knows.
Which is your favorite Sin and why?
I would have to say at this point in my life, Wrath is the sin I embrace the most. In all honesty, it fuels the urge just to get out of bed in the morning. It is my wingman in combat and my friend in solitude.
Why Wrath? Well I figure I've earned the right… as has every other person still living… the cylons took everything from us. Our homes, our families, our future… All gone in a few short hours. Now we live on the run, teachers, doctors, lawyers, farmers, children… forced to become nomads in space, having to fight every day for the barest of necessities.
There is no room left for greed, save from a few who choose to profit off of humanity's misfortune. Lust is an escape... but still a luxury that time rarely allows for indulgence in. even pride has been stripped away bit by bit. How can one be a glutton when there are barely enough rations to go around… Envy? Maybe some envy those who don't have to put their lives on the line every day… Sloth… there's just not enough time for that either. All that is left to feel is wrath.
And every time I launch out into combat I make damned sure every raider feels it.
If I could wish for something and be assured of getting it, what would it be? For one day I wish I could know what was going on inside my best friend’s head. I would give anything to really know what he’s thinking when he gives me that lopsided grin. The grin he seems to reserve only for me… I’ve seen him grin at other people, but it’s not the same grin. This one has a special quality. Sometimes I like to think its affection… I wish I knew.
I wish I knew what it was that made his eyes light up just that way. He’s got the most incredible eyes… though many only see the icy blue businesslike gaze, there is another. A warm, soothing look, where the icy blue gives way to a tropical azure that could entrance even the coldest of hearts to gaze into their depths for hours if he would let them. But that look is fleeting. I only catch it on occasion when I turn around quickly. Within seconds the steel blue is back. What is he thinking then? I wish I knew…
I wish I knew where I stood… What does he really think of me? Am I really just a pilot to him? He’s more than just the CAG to me. Am I just his best friend? Gods I know I’m that but could I be more? Would he let me? I think I know how I feel about him, but how does he feel about me?
I wish I knew.
What do you think of when you hear the word - Fear?
Fear.
Now there is a word I am all too sick and tired of hearing, of seeing… I see it in the eyes of the nuggets when the klaxons sound the first time after they get their wings. The ones whose eyes I see it in… They're the ones I won't see make it back, maybe not this time, but the next.
With what we do, fear is instant death.
You have to go out there every time and look those metal motherfrakkers right in their glowing red eye and not flinch. If you flinch you're dead, your wingman is dead… the raider gets through. There is a saying that we live by… "You're already dead but you just don' know it." You live by that and you don't fear dying. You live every frakkin moment to the fullest. Seize every second and make the most of it cause one day, you're gonna be off your game and you're gonna be frakked right up the exhaust pipe.
Its true what they say, the only thing to fear, is fear itself. I don't fear dying, I don't fear injury. I don't fear reproach or punishment. The only thing I fear… is that one day I will look into that glowing red orb and be afraid.
Tell a story about the dumbest thing you've ever done.
I still sit here and think of just where the evening started to go wrong… I think it was about the time I decided to prove that I could clean up real good… in the hopes of rendering him speechless. There I was, me, the biggest tomboy in the 12 colonies, dolled up in a dress and heels, hair done, the works…. Well it worked. Lee was speechless alright, managed the corniest of compliments… Gods he was adorable… Awestruck even… Moments later we were on the dancefloor, dancing, laughing, and enjoying one another's company…
The next thing I know Gaius cuts in and Lee is gone… Gaius is smooth and free with the compliments, and with the ambrosia… Too free… Ambrosia and I are old friends. My partner in crime as it were. I'm not sure at what point, but somewhere along the line I wound up back in his room for yet one more glass of that fine liquor. I think I left my better judgment back at the dance…
Flirting turns to touching… and Gods it's been too long so I surrender… Even though I he was the farthest one from my mind… a fact which later became painfully evident for both of us…
I barely dress enough to e decent and retreat to the safety of my bunk… wishing like hell the bulkhead would just open up and swallow me whole… Gods how could I let that happen… Only ambrosia knows.
Which is your favorite Sin and why?
I would have to say at this point in my life, Wrath is the sin I embrace the most. In all honesty, it fuels the urge just to get out of bed in the morning. It is my wingman in combat and my friend in solitude.
Why Wrath? Well I figure I've earned the right… as has every other person still living… the cylons took everything from us. Our homes, our families, our future… All gone in a few short hours. Now we live on the run, teachers, doctors, lawyers, farmers, children… forced to become nomads in space, having to fight every day for the barest of necessities.
There is no room left for greed, save from a few who choose to profit off of humanity's misfortune. Lust is an escape... but still a luxury that time rarely allows for indulgence in. even pride has been stripped away bit by bit. How can one be a glutton when there are barely enough rations to go around… Envy? Maybe some envy those who don't have to put their lives on the line every day… Sloth… there's just not enough time for that either. All that is left to feel is wrath.
And every time I launch out into combat I make damned sure every raider feels it.
Muse Topics 3
When did you realize things were just "not going to be okay."
Reading the question, she chuckles… have things ever been ok? She tries to sort through the events of her life to find a time that would apply to… she’s never had a time, other than Zak, where things seemed even remotely ok. But that was her life.
Ok was a relative state of mind… The cylons attacked, destroying everything she knew to be home, and yet there was something that was left that helped her believe everything would still be alright. She had been involved in the destruction of the Olympic Carrier, 1300 souls possibly still on board. Yet her faith held. Water was short and there were hostage situations, and yet she could still see a silver lining.
Even crash landing on a planet after confessing your sins to the only father she’d known in years didn’t bring her down. She continued to fight, continued to frak up… She took the wrong man to her bed, took a punch from the right one, found out the president was dying and the commander had lied to her… and still she pressed on.
It was standing battered and bruised in the ruins of a museum, having fought for her life with a cylon that the world came crashing down around her. She found her friend, Helo… but over his shoulder there stood another, Boomer… Sharon…. She had seen her only hours before on the Galactica… one word summed it all up… Cylon. She reached for Helo’s gun and trained it on the woman. He deflected her arm and it was the next words she heard that destroyed the fragile grip she held on herself… the cylon was pregnant… Her scream echoed through the ruins as she sank down. Finally broken, and she knew, nothing would be the same again.
Careful What You Wish For
I know most people wish I that was more responsible… more by the book. They wish I would tow the line and act the disciplined soldier I was trained to be. You know the type… the good girl who never talks back, keeps her boots polished, would never dream of getting in the face of a superior.
Instead they got me; warts and all. I’m insubordinate. If I don’t like you I will tell you, right to your face. I don’t give a frak if you’re my superior or not. I’ve even been known to use my fists to prove my point. I speak my mind, whether my opinion is wanted or not.
I’ve been branded a troublemaker, a rogue… I live outside the box. Now, consider if I took away the things that people found too brash, too abrasive... crawled back into the box like a good little soldier. What would happen? Who could they count on to haul their asses out of the fire when it came down to the wire? Who would take the chances, push the envelope?
Be careful what you wish for, you really wouldn’t want me to be anyone else.
Kara Thrace
Battlestar Galactica
196 words
Talk about a time you overcame serious self-doubt.
Self doubt has always been a part of my existence… the first seeds planted when I was a child. My mother always believed I wouldn’t amount to anything, that I was useless… For years I believed her. I let her crush me down, keep me under her control.
When I was sixteen that all began to change; I began to see myself as an individual; separate from her. Her opinion was just that… hers. She had tried for so long to push me to the career she had chosen for me. The military. Of course she wanted to make me a marine. That’s what she was… and that way she would always be my superior. I refused.
Instead I started learning to play Pyramid. It was a rough sport, but I was good at it. Damn good in fact. The more I played, the more I separated from her opinion of me. I had a scholarship to the academy; I was being scouted to play professional… I was going places. I was somebody. Then it happened.
My newfound world was shattered when I busted up my knee on the court. Everything I had worked for was gone, and there she was again, with the ‘I told you so’s.’ Weeks later doctors would confirm the worst. I would never play again. While I would regain the strength in my knee, I would never have the mobility to keep up on the court. I was devastated. I started to think maybe she was right, maybe I wasn’t cut out for anything other than the career she chose… I took the tests the doctors brought me, half hearted most of the time. Aptitude test, entrance exams… they all tried to help me.
What surprised me the most was when I received the call… Flight school. I couldn’t believe it. Me? A Pilot? I wasn’t sure if I should… Mom didn’t think I could do it… I wasn’t sure I could either…
Looking back I’m glad I pushed the doubt aside and accepted.
Kara Thrace
Battlestar Galactica
339 words
What is the worst thing that has ever been done TO you?
For someone looking in, it might be hard to pick which of the things that has happened to me over the course of my life has been the worst. I grew up in a broken home, child to an alcoholic mother who saw me as the source of all her troubles. After all life had been good before I was born.
I’ve endured endless hours of dark closets, not knowing when I would eat again; my only companion the spiders that spun their webs in the spaces beneath the stairs. When the closet ceased to scare me, the real abuse started. I was late coming home from school… she whipped my wrists until they bled; reminding me I should wear a watch. She broke each one of my fingers when i played a prank… I could go on… but none of these amounts to what was done to me on Caprica.
What did they do? That’s what makes it the worst. All I know is that they cut me open… I don’t know if they took something out or put something in… I saw what they had done to the other women… what they were trying to do… was that what they had planned for me? To turn me into a living incubator for half human machines..?
It still haunts me at night… Its been six weeks and the waiting continues… Under normal circumstances I would be even more worried… but these are not normal circumstances, anything could cause me to be this late… malnutrition being at the top of the list, right next to stress… both of which are dealt out here in abundance. I’m going to try once again tonight not to think about it…. Maybe tomorrow…
Reading the question, she chuckles… have things ever been ok? She tries to sort through the events of her life to find a time that would apply to… she’s never had a time, other than Zak, where things seemed even remotely ok. But that was her life.
Ok was a relative state of mind… The cylons attacked, destroying everything she knew to be home, and yet there was something that was left that helped her believe everything would still be alright. She had been involved in the destruction of the Olympic Carrier, 1300 souls possibly still on board. Yet her faith held. Water was short and there were hostage situations, and yet she could still see a silver lining.
Even crash landing on a planet after confessing your sins to the only father she’d known in years didn’t bring her down. She continued to fight, continued to frak up… She took the wrong man to her bed, took a punch from the right one, found out the president was dying and the commander had lied to her… and still she pressed on.
It was standing battered and bruised in the ruins of a museum, having fought for her life with a cylon that the world came crashing down around her. She found her friend, Helo… but over his shoulder there stood another, Boomer… Sharon…. She had seen her only hours before on the Galactica… one word summed it all up… Cylon. She reached for Helo’s gun and trained it on the woman. He deflected her arm and it was the next words she heard that destroyed the fragile grip she held on herself… the cylon was pregnant… Her scream echoed through the ruins as she sank down. Finally broken, and she knew, nothing would be the same again.
Careful What You Wish For
I know most people wish I that was more responsible… more by the book. They wish I would tow the line and act the disciplined soldier I was trained to be. You know the type… the good girl who never talks back, keeps her boots polished, would never dream of getting in the face of a superior.
Instead they got me; warts and all. I’m insubordinate. If I don’t like you I will tell you, right to your face. I don’t give a frak if you’re my superior or not. I’ve even been known to use my fists to prove my point. I speak my mind, whether my opinion is wanted or not.
I’ve been branded a troublemaker, a rogue… I live outside the box. Now, consider if I took away the things that people found too brash, too abrasive... crawled back into the box like a good little soldier. What would happen? Who could they count on to haul their asses out of the fire when it came down to the wire? Who would take the chances, push the envelope?
Be careful what you wish for, you really wouldn’t want me to be anyone else.
Kara Thrace
Battlestar Galactica
196 words
Talk about a time you overcame serious self-doubt.
Self doubt has always been a part of my existence… the first seeds planted when I was a child. My mother always believed I wouldn’t amount to anything, that I was useless… For years I believed her. I let her crush me down, keep me under her control.
When I was sixteen that all began to change; I began to see myself as an individual; separate from her. Her opinion was just that… hers. She had tried for so long to push me to the career she had chosen for me. The military. Of course she wanted to make me a marine. That’s what she was… and that way she would always be my superior. I refused.
Instead I started learning to play Pyramid. It was a rough sport, but I was good at it. Damn good in fact. The more I played, the more I separated from her opinion of me. I had a scholarship to the academy; I was being scouted to play professional… I was going places. I was somebody. Then it happened.
My newfound world was shattered when I busted up my knee on the court. Everything I had worked for was gone, and there she was again, with the ‘I told you so’s.’ Weeks later doctors would confirm the worst. I would never play again. While I would regain the strength in my knee, I would never have the mobility to keep up on the court. I was devastated. I started to think maybe she was right, maybe I wasn’t cut out for anything other than the career she chose… I took the tests the doctors brought me, half hearted most of the time. Aptitude test, entrance exams… they all tried to help me.
What surprised me the most was when I received the call… Flight school. I couldn’t believe it. Me? A Pilot? I wasn’t sure if I should… Mom didn’t think I could do it… I wasn’t sure I could either…
Looking back I’m glad I pushed the doubt aside and accepted.
Kara Thrace
Battlestar Galactica
339 words
What is the worst thing that has ever been done TO you?
For someone looking in, it might be hard to pick which of the things that has happened to me over the course of my life has been the worst. I grew up in a broken home, child to an alcoholic mother who saw me as the source of all her troubles. After all life had been good before I was born.
I’ve endured endless hours of dark closets, not knowing when I would eat again; my only companion the spiders that spun their webs in the spaces beneath the stairs. When the closet ceased to scare me, the real abuse started. I was late coming home from school… she whipped my wrists until they bled; reminding me I should wear a watch. She broke each one of my fingers when i played a prank… I could go on… but none of these amounts to what was done to me on Caprica.
What did they do? That’s what makes it the worst. All I know is that they cut me open… I don’t know if they took something out or put something in… I saw what they had done to the other women… what they were trying to do… was that what they had planned for me? To turn me into a living incubator for half human machines..?
It still haunts me at night… Its been six weeks and the waiting continues… Under normal circumstances I would be even more worried… but these are not normal circumstances, anything could cause me to be this late… malnutrition being at the top of the list, right next to stress… both of which are dealt out here in abundance. I’m going to try once again tonight not to think about it…. Maybe tomorrow…
Muse Topics 2
What is the best present you have ever given someone else?
I met someone… someone pretty incredible. He was nothing like Lee though, but he was filled with indomitable spirit, fighting in a hopeless situation… Despite being outgunned and out experienced. He never gave up. None of them did.
They took me in once they were sure I was safe. I became one of their own. We grew close over the days spent there… we had a lot in common and our friendship came easily. We both knew that there may be no tomorrow, that at any moment things could go bad and we would all parish in that irradiated wasteland that once was our home. So we found happiness where we could, taking comfort in the little things, a game of pyramid, a gentle touch, a teasing kiss… but there were no strings attached… neither one expected anything more beyond the moment.
He came for me when I was captured. With the others I found my way back to the relative safety of the resistance camp. We both knew I had a mission to complete… and he had kept the arrow safe all this time. I had to finish what I had started… despite the thousands here that still needed help. I had to go home, to the fleet, to the Galactica, to Lee.
Moments before I left, I took one of my dog tags and pressed it into his hand. In that simple moment, I gave more than I could have imagined… In the darkest of nights that had fallen on our former home, I gave him the one thing that could sustain him, keep him fighting….
I gave him hope.
Kara Thrace
Battlestar Galactica
272 words
Who do you miss the most?
I suppose for most people this would be a pretty straight forward question with a quick and simple answer. Family… a friend… a lover… But then I’m not most people and I don’t do simple and straightforward.
Now if I did, my answer would be something like my father. He left us when I was only about six or seven, but he was still the glue that held the world together and I was his baby girl. I never understood why he left, and I still to this day miss him. Or it could be my fiancé who was killed only a few weeks before we were to have been married. He died in a horrific crash… it was my fault, he wasn’t ready but I put him in that plane anyway because he wanted it so much and because I felt… well that’s not important now, and another topic entirely.
Ironically, with billions of people dead the person I miss the most is sleeping across the bunkroom; not 30 feet away from where I sit writing this… How can you miss someone who’s not gone? It’s really quite simple. War changes people, changes relationships, changes dynamics… and being a royal screw-up just helps to motivate those changes even further.
We barely talk anymore… when we do it’s as CAG and lead pilot… no time for friends anymore. I miss his laugh, the way blue eyes sparkle with mischief. He doesn’t laugh much anymore. He works too hard, runs himself too thin. Don’t get me wrong he’s damn good at his job, but he’s wearing himself out. I miss being able to just kick back and relax with him, when silence didn’t seem awkward and talking didn’t seem forced. I miss the shoulder to cry on, because he’s the only one who’s ever seen me really cry; there’s no time for tears anymore.
I managed to frak it all up royally… the how and why is another matter entirely. I’ve tried to do things for the right reasons… but they always come out wrong. I misinterpreted reserve for rejection… control for a cold shoulder… I’ve done some stupid things… damaged what we had… I only hope that someday we can rebuild… I guess my answer isn’t that far from the simple… he is my family, my friend… and I love him like no other…
And finally in answer to our question, who do I miss most? That’s easy… Lee Adama.
Talk about a time you realized that someone close to you was not the person you thought you knew.
Why is it when you’re at your lowest point, life decides it needs to give you one last swift kick to the gut? Things couldn’t have been much worse… there I was, on a radiation contaminated planet, having jumped thousands of lightyears from the fleet. Lee and I were not on speaking terms, beyond what we needed to do to do our jobs, my good friend of seven years just tried to kill herself; but put a bullet through her cheek instead. I get here and pretty much get my ass handed to me by a blonde cylon; only reason I beat her is because I no longer cared if I survived the fight, so long as she didn’t either. A 25 foot drop later and I’m still alive, she’s not.
For a moment things seemed to be looking up. Strong hands had lifted me from where I fell, turning me to look in the eyes of a friend I thought lost forever. He helped me up, steadied me against the wall… gods it was so good to see him again… then, there was movement over his shoulder.
Seven years I’ve know Sharon Valerii, before she even went through flight school. We’d been through a lot together… I thought I knew everything about her… boy was I wrong. There, standing on the ledge above was Sharon… only it wasn’t Sharon, my Sharon was in sickbay with a hole in her face…I know, I saw her just before I jumped here… but there she was. Flight suit and all… her arm was in a sling, her shoulder injured… but she was there, and there was no mark on her face. That’s when I realized… Sharon was a cylon… oh gods… a frakkin cylon…
I remember grabbing for Helo’s gun… my first instinct to shoot it there on the spot… then he said it… that thing was pregnant…. And my world shattered.
I met someone… someone pretty incredible. He was nothing like Lee though, but he was filled with indomitable spirit, fighting in a hopeless situation… Despite being outgunned and out experienced. He never gave up. None of them did.
They took me in once they were sure I was safe. I became one of their own. We grew close over the days spent there… we had a lot in common and our friendship came easily. We both knew that there may be no tomorrow, that at any moment things could go bad and we would all parish in that irradiated wasteland that once was our home. So we found happiness where we could, taking comfort in the little things, a game of pyramid, a gentle touch, a teasing kiss… but there were no strings attached… neither one expected anything more beyond the moment.
He came for me when I was captured. With the others I found my way back to the relative safety of the resistance camp. We both knew I had a mission to complete… and he had kept the arrow safe all this time. I had to finish what I had started… despite the thousands here that still needed help. I had to go home, to the fleet, to the Galactica, to Lee.
Moments before I left, I took one of my dog tags and pressed it into his hand. In that simple moment, I gave more than I could have imagined… In the darkest of nights that had fallen on our former home, I gave him the one thing that could sustain him, keep him fighting….
I gave him hope.
Kara Thrace
Battlestar Galactica
272 words
Who do you miss the most?
I suppose for most people this would be a pretty straight forward question with a quick and simple answer. Family… a friend… a lover… But then I’m not most people and I don’t do simple and straightforward.
Now if I did, my answer would be something like my father. He left us when I was only about six or seven, but he was still the glue that held the world together and I was his baby girl. I never understood why he left, and I still to this day miss him. Or it could be my fiancé who was killed only a few weeks before we were to have been married. He died in a horrific crash… it was my fault, he wasn’t ready but I put him in that plane anyway because he wanted it so much and because I felt… well that’s not important now, and another topic entirely.
Ironically, with billions of people dead the person I miss the most is sleeping across the bunkroom; not 30 feet away from where I sit writing this… How can you miss someone who’s not gone? It’s really quite simple. War changes people, changes relationships, changes dynamics… and being a royal screw-up just helps to motivate those changes even further.
We barely talk anymore… when we do it’s as CAG and lead pilot… no time for friends anymore. I miss his laugh, the way blue eyes sparkle with mischief. He doesn’t laugh much anymore. He works too hard, runs himself too thin. Don’t get me wrong he’s damn good at his job, but he’s wearing himself out. I miss being able to just kick back and relax with him, when silence didn’t seem awkward and talking didn’t seem forced. I miss the shoulder to cry on, because he’s the only one who’s ever seen me really cry; there’s no time for tears anymore.
I managed to frak it all up royally… the how and why is another matter entirely. I’ve tried to do things for the right reasons… but they always come out wrong. I misinterpreted reserve for rejection… control for a cold shoulder… I’ve done some stupid things… damaged what we had… I only hope that someday we can rebuild… I guess my answer isn’t that far from the simple… he is my family, my friend… and I love him like no other…
And finally in answer to our question, who do I miss most? That’s easy… Lee Adama.
Talk about a time you realized that someone close to you was not the person you thought you knew.
Why is it when you’re at your lowest point, life decides it needs to give you one last swift kick to the gut? Things couldn’t have been much worse… there I was, on a radiation contaminated planet, having jumped thousands of lightyears from the fleet. Lee and I were not on speaking terms, beyond what we needed to do to do our jobs, my good friend of seven years just tried to kill herself; but put a bullet through her cheek instead. I get here and pretty much get my ass handed to me by a blonde cylon; only reason I beat her is because I no longer cared if I survived the fight, so long as she didn’t either. A 25 foot drop later and I’m still alive, she’s not.
For a moment things seemed to be looking up. Strong hands had lifted me from where I fell, turning me to look in the eyes of a friend I thought lost forever. He helped me up, steadied me against the wall… gods it was so good to see him again… then, there was movement over his shoulder.
Seven years I’ve know Sharon Valerii, before she even went through flight school. We’d been through a lot together… I thought I knew everything about her… boy was I wrong. There, standing on the ledge above was Sharon… only it wasn’t Sharon, my Sharon was in sickbay with a hole in her face…I know, I saw her just before I jumped here… but there she was. Flight suit and all… her arm was in a sling, her shoulder injured… but she was there, and there was no mark on her face. That’s when I realized… Sharon was a cylon… oh gods… a frakkin cylon…
I remember grabbing for Helo’s gun… my first instinct to shoot it there on the spot… then he said it… that thing was pregnant…. And my world shattered.
Several Muse Topics
What is your greatest strength?
My greatest strength lies in faith. It is behind everything I do, every hour of every day. My mother taught me young that faith was important. She went to great lengths to instill this in me. She insisted every day that I learn to pray. And so I did. Every day I prayed, and I had faith that one day I would be free… I was nearly sixteen when they took me away; prayers answered.
I still pray, but my prayers are less formal than they once were. I still take out the idols of my patron goddesses, Artemis and Aphrodite, setting them carefully on the velvet cloth in a silent moment. However most of my prayers are hurried whispers as my viper is loaded into the tubes and launched into combat against an enemy that outnumbers and outguns us. I let faith take it from there.
I have faith in the knuckledraggers on Chief Tyrol’s crew. I know all the repairs will be done. I have faith that those repairs will hold through just one more fight. I have faith that my shots will hit their intended target, faith that we’ll al make it back in one piece.
I have faith that we’ll manage to find water and food when we need it, that as a race we will survive, that I will one day see a sunrise again. I have faith that one day… We will find Earth.
Kara Thrace
Battlestar Galactica
240 words
Color me Blue
How is it possible to love and hate a color at the same time? I always loved the blue of the sky when I would lie in the grass and watch the clouds as a little girl. I guess it only made sense that I would one day become a pilot and live in the depths of that deep blue… but there are other shades of blue, darker shades.
Those shades are the ones I hate. The blue that borders on black, which rings the outside of the bruises forming on your cheek when you’ve spoken out of turn. Or even darker, when a bone breaks, turning your hands near black, swollen and unusable… those are the shades of blue that colored my childhood.
As I’ve grown though. I’ve learned to appreciate the lighter shades of blue. The duty uniform I wear; the military is the only place I’ve ever really felt wanted or needed. The blue steel of a Mark VII Viper; my ticket to freedom… However, the best shade of blue there is belongs to the eyes that smile at me from across the bunkroom…
Blue eyes that stare right into my soul, tearing down carefully built walls. Touching me in ways even a lover’s hands cannot compete with, stealing my heart with every glance. Hard yet gentle at the same time… and always present. I’ve heard it said that clothes make the man… but not in this case. Blue eyes make Lee Adama.
Kara Thrace
Battlestar Galactica
246 Words
When in your life did you feel the most alone?
Alone is a feeling I have known all too well; though lately loneliness and I have gotten re-acquainted. Spending several days on a near barren planet that once was inhabited by billions of people is a lonely feeling, that is true… it doesn’t even begin to compare to true loneliness.
I first thought I felt it when I told Lee about passing Zak through basic flight… then set out on a potential suicide mission to gain intel on just what was waiting for us beyond that cloud, then weeks later, when had to make that same confession to Zaks’ father. It tore me up inside. The hurt in his eyes… I felt I had lost the only father I ever knew…
Weeks later, I would find out what it truly meant to be lonely. I found out that the man I trusted as a father had lied to all of us… he had no idea where we were going… Lee was angry with me for yet another one of my many screw ups… I tried to apologize… tried to make things right…
That’s when I learned what it truly felt like to be alone. I said I was sorry… and he just walked away.
Kara Thrace
Battlestar Galactica
204 Words
Have you ever betrayed someone's confidence? Has anyone ever betrayed you? Write a ficlet on the theme of betrayal.
Betrayal… The utter devastation of the fragile trust between us all. It can be carefully planned, intentional secrets withheld through a misguided belief that it is for the greater good. Or it may be a harsh word spoken in the heat of an argument. Either way the knife cuts as deep.
Betrayer or betrayed? I am both.
I unknowingly betrayed my best friend when I left the Colonial Day celebrations on the arm of another. Honestly I had no indications that he saw me as more than a friend… that on some level he saw me as his girl…
Ironically I had always wanted that to be the case, but too much had happened over the years. There was as much friction as there was fire between us. If I am honest with myself, I know I have loved him a long time… years… I wanted so desperately for it to be his arms that held me, his breath hot against my neck, his flesh searing against mine… wanted so much that I betrayed my heart, letting another take me, the betrayal complete when Lee’s name slipped from my lips…
Only a few hours later he would confront me on my betrayal; airing the hurt and pain he felt ( Your just a pilot, I’m just a CAG) in front of a deck full of grunts and knuckledraggers. His words stung ( a pilot who can’t keep her pants on) but I knew he was hurting. I myself would not understand just how much betrayal hurt until later.
Commander Adama has no idea where Earth is. He never did. He made it up; in order to give people hope.
Her words were still ringing in my ears as I caught up with him on the catwalk overlooking the hangar deck. A few casual words were exchanged before I couldn’t hold it in any longer.
Can I ask you a question Boss...? I know he wouldn’t lie to me directly… he just wouldn’t…
Sure
How much longer til we reach Earth? There… its asked…
Its hard to say… It wasn’t a direct answer…. But it was a start…
Got a guess?
You know I don’t like to guess… Come ON… I know you know, just tell me you know… I could feel the sickening feeling rising. He wouldn’t look me in the eye…
We getting closer? This is me… come on, you know you can tell me anything… I’m giving you an out.
I’m sure we are… he stepped back from the railing… Good luck on the jump test tomorrow… With those last words he turned and walked away, never having looked me in the eye since I asked the first question, never seeing my heart, my faith in him shattered… He lied. He lied to the fleet…. He really didn’t know… he lied… he lied to me….
The man I held as close as my own father didn’t trust me with the truth. So he lied and I finally understood just how deep the cut of betrayal is felt.
Kara Thrace
Battlestar Galactica
511 words
My greatest strength lies in faith. It is behind everything I do, every hour of every day. My mother taught me young that faith was important. She went to great lengths to instill this in me. She insisted every day that I learn to pray. And so I did. Every day I prayed, and I had faith that one day I would be free… I was nearly sixteen when they took me away; prayers answered.
I still pray, but my prayers are less formal than they once were. I still take out the idols of my patron goddesses, Artemis and Aphrodite, setting them carefully on the velvet cloth in a silent moment. However most of my prayers are hurried whispers as my viper is loaded into the tubes and launched into combat against an enemy that outnumbers and outguns us. I let faith take it from there.
I have faith in the knuckledraggers on Chief Tyrol’s crew. I know all the repairs will be done. I have faith that those repairs will hold through just one more fight. I have faith that my shots will hit their intended target, faith that we’ll al make it back in one piece.
I have faith that we’ll manage to find water and food when we need it, that as a race we will survive, that I will one day see a sunrise again. I have faith that one day… We will find Earth.
Kara Thrace
Battlestar Galactica
240 words
Color me Blue
How is it possible to love and hate a color at the same time? I always loved the blue of the sky when I would lie in the grass and watch the clouds as a little girl. I guess it only made sense that I would one day become a pilot and live in the depths of that deep blue… but there are other shades of blue, darker shades.
Those shades are the ones I hate. The blue that borders on black, which rings the outside of the bruises forming on your cheek when you’ve spoken out of turn. Or even darker, when a bone breaks, turning your hands near black, swollen and unusable… those are the shades of blue that colored my childhood.
As I’ve grown though. I’ve learned to appreciate the lighter shades of blue. The duty uniform I wear; the military is the only place I’ve ever really felt wanted or needed. The blue steel of a Mark VII Viper; my ticket to freedom… However, the best shade of blue there is belongs to the eyes that smile at me from across the bunkroom…
Blue eyes that stare right into my soul, tearing down carefully built walls. Touching me in ways even a lover’s hands cannot compete with, stealing my heart with every glance. Hard yet gentle at the same time… and always present. I’ve heard it said that clothes make the man… but not in this case. Blue eyes make Lee Adama.
Kara Thrace
Battlestar Galactica
246 Words
When in your life did you feel the most alone?
Alone is a feeling I have known all too well; though lately loneliness and I have gotten re-acquainted. Spending several days on a near barren planet that once was inhabited by billions of people is a lonely feeling, that is true… it doesn’t even begin to compare to true loneliness.
I first thought I felt it when I told Lee about passing Zak through basic flight… then set out on a potential suicide mission to gain intel on just what was waiting for us beyond that cloud, then weeks later, when had to make that same confession to Zaks’ father. It tore me up inside. The hurt in his eyes… I felt I had lost the only father I ever knew…
Weeks later, I would find out what it truly meant to be lonely. I found out that the man I trusted as a father had lied to all of us… he had no idea where we were going… Lee was angry with me for yet another one of my many screw ups… I tried to apologize… tried to make things right…
That’s when I learned what it truly felt like to be alone. I said I was sorry… and he just walked away.
Kara Thrace
Battlestar Galactica
204 Words
Have you ever betrayed someone's confidence? Has anyone ever betrayed you? Write a ficlet on the theme of betrayal.
Betrayal… The utter devastation of the fragile trust between us all. It can be carefully planned, intentional secrets withheld through a misguided belief that it is for the greater good. Or it may be a harsh word spoken in the heat of an argument. Either way the knife cuts as deep.
Betrayer or betrayed? I am both.
I unknowingly betrayed my best friend when I left the Colonial Day celebrations on the arm of another. Honestly I had no indications that he saw me as more than a friend… that on some level he saw me as his girl…
Ironically I had always wanted that to be the case, but too much had happened over the years. There was as much friction as there was fire between us. If I am honest with myself, I know I have loved him a long time… years… I wanted so desperately for it to be his arms that held me, his breath hot against my neck, his flesh searing against mine… wanted so much that I betrayed my heart, letting another take me, the betrayal complete when Lee’s name slipped from my lips…
Only a few hours later he would confront me on my betrayal; airing the hurt and pain he felt ( Your just a pilot, I’m just a CAG) in front of a deck full of grunts and knuckledraggers. His words stung ( a pilot who can’t keep her pants on) but I knew he was hurting. I myself would not understand just how much betrayal hurt until later.
Commander Adama has no idea where Earth is. He never did. He made it up; in order to give people hope.
Her words were still ringing in my ears as I caught up with him on the catwalk overlooking the hangar deck. A few casual words were exchanged before I couldn’t hold it in any longer.
Can I ask you a question Boss...? I know he wouldn’t lie to me directly… he just wouldn’t…
Sure
How much longer til we reach Earth? There… its asked…
Its hard to say… It wasn’t a direct answer…. But it was a start…
Got a guess?
You know I don’t like to guess… Come ON… I know you know, just tell me you know… I could feel the sickening feeling rising. He wouldn’t look me in the eye…
We getting closer? This is me… come on, you know you can tell me anything… I’m giving you an out.
I’m sure we are… he stepped back from the railing… Good luck on the jump test tomorrow… With those last words he turned and walked away, never having looked me in the eye since I asked the first question, never seeing my heart, my faith in him shattered… He lied. He lied to the fleet…. He really didn’t know… he lied… he lied to me….
The man I held as close as my own father didn’t trust me with the truth. So he lied and I finally understood just how deep the cut of betrayal is felt.
Kara Thrace
Battlestar Galactica
511 words
The Ring
Another drabble I wrote just after seeing first episogde of season 1... I had a desperate need to explain why she didn't have the rin on in the mini but did once we saw her in season 1.
A ring…. A simple silver band… something so small for the significance it carries. It was to have been his, but the Lords saw fit to punish my lack of judgment by taking him from me… I still vividly recall the day of the funeral.
As I stood in front of my locker, fastening the final clasp on the sash of my dress uniform, there sat the box on the shelf. It was exactly where it had been since I bought it three months before… but now it seemed to stare right at me. As if my hands were acting of their own will I reached for the box, taking the ring from its velvet cage, placing it securely on my left thumb… a reminder that he should have been at my side.
There it remained throughout the day, and throughout the next several weeks… until the day I set foot on the Galactica for the first time. That day the ring returned to its velvet box on the shelf in my locker, where it sat for two years. Until today…
Why today? 24 hours ago everything was as it should be… The Galactica was to be decommissioned… we were all hanging in limbo, waiting for out next postings… I was returning to Picon… the final flight with my squadron was only hours away… a flight I missed due to getting into a little disagreement with the XO. We never saw it coming… after 40 years we were thrown into the midst of a war, forced to fight in vipers that were classed as museum pieces. And I had my first real taste of combat.
None of us could have been prepared for this… but we were here… My hands were still shaking from the adrenaline of landing two linked vipers, thus saving the life of one of my best friends… it was the least I could do… after all… I killed his brother. I reach for the velvet box one more time, taking the ring and slipping it on again, to remind me not only of what I had lost… but of all that was still left to live for.
A ring…. A simple silver band… something so small for the significance it carries. It was to have been his, but the Lords saw fit to punish my lack of judgment by taking him from me… I still vividly recall the day of the funeral.
As I stood in front of my locker, fastening the final clasp on the sash of my dress uniform, there sat the box on the shelf. It was exactly where it had been since I bought it three months before… but now it seemed to stare right at me. As if my hands were acting of their own will I reached for the box, taking the ring from its velvet cage, placing it securely on my left thumb… a reminder that he should have been at my side.
There it remained throughout the day, and throughout the next several weeks… until the day I set foot on the Galactica for the first time. That day the ring returned to its velvet box on the shelf in my locker, where it sat for two years. Until today…
Why today? 24 hours ago everything was as it should be… The Galactica was to be decommissioned… we were all hanging in limbo, waiting for out next postings… I was returning to Picon… the final flight with my squadron was only hours away… a flight I missed due to getting into a little disagreement with the XO. We never saw it coming… after 40 years we were thrown into the midst of a war, forced to fight in vipers that were classed as museum pieces. And I had my first real taste of combat.
None of us could have been prepared for this… but we were here… My hands were still shaking from the adrenaline of landing two linked vipers, thus saving the life of one of my best friends… it was the least I could do… after all… I killed his brother. I reach for the velvet box one more time, taking the ring and slipping it on again, to remind me not only of what I had lost… but of all that was still left to live for.
Activation
This little drabble i wrote for a challenge WAY back just after the mini aired. It was a callenge issued to step into the mind of any character at a critical point... this is what happened.
With a nervous laugh, I get to my feet. I am now locked in a dark corridor with a total stranger… and from the look of his uniform, a powerful stranger. Adama… that’s what he said his name was…
Why is that name so familiar… I keep my distance from his type, we could not have met before. Being an arms dealer tends to make one suspicious of anyone in uniform… it’s a hazard of the job.
My ears are still ringing from the sounds of the explosion as I steady myself against the wall… “Do you know who you are” I hear the voice break through… but it is not his voice... he is talking to someone outside. There is no one in here but us… Of course I know who I am, I think to myself, what an absurd question. “Are you sure…” the voice echoes again.
It is not just a voice... but a chorus of voices… calling to something deep within.
Memories begin to flood in… memories I could never have experienced… things I could not know. The voices... they subside… I begin to understand… I must get out of here… the storm… I am no longer the man I once thought myself to be. I am so much more.
Humanity is inferior. I must get off this station. It is interfering with my signal… Adama can get me out… then he can be disposed of…
He asks if there is another way out…
I simply reply with a smile “Yeah…”
With a nervous laugh, I get to my feet. I am now locked in a dark corridor with a total stranger… and from the look of his uniform, a powerful stranger. Adama… that’s what he said his name was…
Why is that name so familiar… I keep my distance from his type, we could not have met before. Being an arms dealer tends to make one suspicious of anyone in uniform… it’s a hazard of the job.
My ears are still ringing from the sounds of the explosion as I steady myself against the wall… “Do you know who you are” I hear the voice break through… but it is not his voice... he is talking to someone outside. There is no one in here but us… Of course I know who I am, I think to myself, what an absurd question. “Are you sure…” the voice echoes again.
It is not just a voice... but a chorus of voices… calling to something deep within.
Memories begin to flood in… memories I could never have experienced… things I could not know. The voices... they subside… I begin to understand… I must get out of here… the storm… I am no longer the man I once thought myself to be. I am so much more.
Humanity is inferior. I must get off this station. It is interfering with my signal… Adama can get me out… then he can be disposed of…
He asks if there is another way out…
I simply reply with a smile “Yeah…”
Secrets - Muse Topic
What is the one thing about yourself that you don't want anyone to ever know?
Worthless…
Useless…
A mistake…
An accident…
Those are the words that paint my childhood. My mother never wanted me. And she made sure that I knew it. Ironically it would have been better had I been a boy. I know it sounds almost sexist to think that, but in this case it was the truth. I remember at an early age… when we used to go on outings… my mother would dress me in boys clothes… she kept my hair cropped short and never called me by the name my father had given me. Instead she referred to me by my middle name, which was so generic no one questioned. Until I was six everyone thought I was a boy… and she was happy. Then I started school and I was suddenly forced to be a little girl… The called my by my first name, sent me to the girls washroom… and I questioned her… That’s when it started.
My Mother never wanted a daughter.
Girls are so clumsy… she used to tell me. And so many times she was right, falls down the stairs that left bumps and bruises for weeks, accidentally bumping the piano hard enough that the cover crashed down on my fingers… running into a door, breaking my nose for the third time… Even the doctors suspected how clumsy I was, but before I could say anything we would move away and it would start all over… new doctors, new hospitals and a clumsy little girl.
Mom always wanted a son.
Maybe she would be proud of me now; I ended up in the military just as she wanted for her son… I can out fly anyone in the fleet; no-one can beat me on the firing range… I drink, smoke cigars and bullshit with the best. I run with the big dogs, take your money at the card table and break hearts and bodies in the bedroom… My theory in life is to kick ass and ask questions later.
Everything I know I learned from her… She made me into a prodigal son to be proud of. Except she made one mistake…
I am a woman, and proud of it.
I will not let the past rear its ugly head again… I can’t afford to dwell on what once was. I need to be strong now more than ever and to allow myself to luxuriate in self pity would leave me weak. I can’t be weak; it would jeopardize the remnants of my civilization. Too many people count in me to be strong. So the past will stay where it belongs… Dead and buried.
Kara Thrace
Battlestar Galactica
468 words
Worthless…
Useless…
A mistake…
An accident…
Those are the words that paint my childhood. My mother never wanted me. And she made sure that I knew it. Ironically it would have been better had I been a boy. I know it sounds almost sexist to think that, but in this case it was the truth. I remember at an early age… when we used to go on outings… my mother would dress me in boys clothes… she kept my hair cropped short and never called me by the name my father had given me. Instead she referred to me by my middle name, which was so generic no one questioned. Until I was six everyone thought I was a boy… and she was happy. Then I started school and I was suddenly forced to be a little girl… The called my by my first name, sent me to the girls washroom… and I questioned her… That’s when it started.
My Mother never wanted a daughter.
Girls are so clumsy… she used to tell me. And so many times she was right, falls down the stairs that left bumps and bruises for weeks, accidentally bumping the piano hard enough that the cover crashed down on my fingers… running into a door, breaking my nose for the third time… Even the doctors suspected how clumsy I was, but before I could say anything we would move away and it would start all over… new doctors, new hospitals and a clumsy little girl.
Mom always wanted a son.
Maybe she would be proud of me now; I ended up in the military just as she wanted for her son… I can out fly anyone in the fleet; no-one can beat me on the firing range… I drink, smoke cigars and bullshit with the best. I run with the big dogs, take your money at the card table and break hearts and bodies in the bedroom… My theory in life is to kick ass and ask questions later.
Everything I know I learned from her… She made me into a prodigal son to be proud of. Except she made one mistake…
I am a woman, and proud of it.
I will not let the past rear its ugly head again… I can’t afford to dwell on what once was. I need to be strong now more than ever and to allow myself to luxuriate in self pity would leave me weak. I can’t be weak; it would jeopardize the remnants of my civilization. Too many people count in me to be strong. So the past will stay where it belongs… Dead and buried.
Kara Thrace
Battlestar Galactica
468 words
Sleepless Night - Definitely Adult
Written for a friend, she gave the topic, I wrote
It was just past 0200 and she still couldn’t sleep. The rhythmic footfalls on the deck were doing nothing to ease the restless energy that was keeping her awake. She had hoped going for a run would be enough to be able to achieve even a restless sleep; after all it had worked many times before in the past weeks. This time, however, it wasn't nightmares that were keeping her awake. It was anticipation.
After over a year out of the cockpit, tomorrow she was back in the cockpit. Mid day CAP… It had been far too long, much longer than she would have liked. So damned much had happened. Most of which she would rather forget. Feelings, emotions she shouldn’t have had… still shouldn’t have. She shook her head. This was not going to help her present sleepless situation, and if she didn't sleep soon, Cottle wouldn’t give her the clearance come morning.
Kara needed to do something, and she needed to do it now. Maybe, just maybe a trip down to the flight deck would help. She'd spent many nights down there in the past, if it had worked before why not this time? She asked herself, knowing that the true answer was she was just too wound up to wait till morning. Altering her route she pushed on towards the hanger deck, jogging along the high causeway, the vipers lined up in their bays below. Her eyes lit up as she approached bay 14 on Deck C… There, right where it should be, in her preferred spot, looking sleek and strong. Her viper… She couldn’t see the name plate, but she could see the tail number.
Twenty three steps, one turn and down a half flight of stairs and she was standing just off the shoulder of its wing, halfway to the deck. The feral grin on her face was evident even to her as she took in the nameplate, every detail as it should be. It looked as though it had been just recently done, prepared just for her return. She should have known though, the chief had said he would look out for her… and making her bird stand out like it was new off the line was just his way of doing it. She stepped over the rail, one foot briefly touching the wing as she climbed into the cockpit.
Sinking down into the seat of the Mark VII felt… Gods it was hard to even put a description on it. The foam of the seat had just the right give, designed to protect back and neck from the effects of a high G launch, it had a tendency to sink just a little when not in the air, the soft leather cupping the body like a gentle embrace.
She closed her eyes and ran her hand over the console, remembering, knowing what each button was for, as well as just how hard you needed to push each one, and when… Her hand ghosted over the controls, seeking out the startup sequence, not pressing but just hovering. She could almost feel the vibrations as she recalled the feel of the Dual Voram engines coming to life, the high Voram kicking in seconds later. The intense power at her fingertips… Her hand instinctively shifted to the flight stick, closing around the perfectly formed base, fingers relaxed against the controls.
In her mind she ran over dogfight after dogfight, the feel of pushing this magnificent creature to its limits… every shake and pull brought on by high G maneuvers… her first thought was that it was better than sex… followed by her body responding with a very clear 'Yeah could use some of that too…' A smirk played across her lips. It wouldn’t be the first time… and just maybe it would wind her down enough to let her sleep. A glance around told her this end of the deck was empty… third shift was working at the far end on rebuilding another viper…. Closing her eyes she sunk back into the chair, the hand not on the controls coming up to brush over her breast, lightly squeezing, her thumb brushing over the nipple, already hard from the slight chill in the air. She let her fingers trace light circles around the nipple, brushing across every so often, drawing out the sensation… just like the controls of the viper, she knew all the right places, the right sequence… she relinquished her hold on the flight stick and brought her other hand up to her other breast, mirroring the actions. Slow, light touches, over and over… hands gently squeezing….mmmm yes… that was definitely the startup sequence…. She could feel the heat coiling in her, thighs aching, begging for contact… not yet...
Hands sliding down ver her stomach, she fond the hem of her shirt, slipping one hand beneath, sliding further up, pushing her bra up over the top of her breast, half exposing her to anyone who might have been passing on the catwalk overhead. She didn't care… all that mattered was that her thumb and forefinger found the nipple, pinching lightly.
Her breath was already rapid, heavy, punctuated by soft whimpers as she let herself get lost in the sensation… She'd never done anything halfway… pleasuring herself was no exception… she always drew it out to its fullest.
The hand at the hem of her shirt slipped lower, brushing over her thigh, teasing, taunting, the ache becoming near unbearable as it shifted between slightly parted thighs, brushing back and forth over the fabric of her shorts that kept eager fingers from pushing into her. Instead she continued to stroke over the material, lightly squeezing the mound of flesh, palm pushing hard against her clothed crotch, building the tension higher and higher until she could feel the damp head through the fabric. Definitely time…
She brought the hand up as her other pushed the other side of her bra up, fully exposing her chest as she turned attentions to the other breast. Finding the waistband of her running shorts she slipped her hand beneath, fingers seeking out the heat like missiles, rocketing straight to her core. She shifted, sinking lower to let her knees fall open, two fingers locking on, sinking in… the fleshy pad at the base of her thumb settling against her clit, each movement brushing it just enough…
Hips bucked lightly against her hand, breathing hard…. The sound of metal banging on metal down the deck masking the throaty moans, body sweat slick and trembling, she pushed on. Just a little more… the ache turning to a pulse… a burn… threatening to sear her alive from the inside out. She could almost see spots behind her eyes, a sensation so close to G-LOC… and she broke, biting back a scream, so intense she bit into her lip, breaking the skin.
She was still a moment, chest heaving to catch her breath as she straightened her clothes. It was a few moments before she could move. She knew she needed to get up and go now, sleep already threatening to carry her away. It took every effort she cold muster to haul herself up out of the cockpit and make her way back up the stairs to the catwalk. Continuing to the nearest hatch she glanced back, just able to see the nose of her bird before disappearing through the hatch. Maybe it wasn't so crazy for her to love a machine after all…
It was just past 0200 and she still couldn’t sleep. The rhythmic footfalls on the deck were doing nothing to ease the restless energy that was keeping her awake. She had hoped going for a run would be enough to be able to achieve even a restless sleep; after all it had worked many times before in the past weeks. This time, however, it wasn't nightmares that were keeping her awake. It was anticipation.
After over a year out of the cockpit, tomorrow she was back in the cockpit. Mid day CAP… It had been far too long, much longer than she would have liked. So damned much had happened. Most of which she would rather forget. Feelings, emotions she shouldn’t have had… still shouldn’t have. She shook her head. This was not going to help her present sleepless situation, and if she didn't sleep soon, Cottle wouldn’t give her the clearance come morning.
Kara needed to do something, and she needed to do it now. Maybe, just maybe a trip down to the flight deck would help. She'd spent many nights down there in the past, if it had worked before why not this time? She asked herself, knowing that the true answer was she was just too wound up to wait till morning. Altering her route she pushed on towards the hanger deck, jogging along the high causeway, the vipers lined up in their bays below. Her eyes lit up as she approached bay 14 on Deck C… There, right where it should be, in her preferred spot, looking sleek and strong. Her viper… She couldn’t see the name plate, but she could see the tail number.
Twenty three steps, one turn and down a half flight of stairs and she was standing just off the shoulder of its wing, halfway to the deck. The feral grin on her face was evident even to her as she took in the nameplate, every detail as it should be. It looked as though it had been just recently done, prepared just for her return. She should have known though, the chief had said he would look out for her… and making her bird stand out like it was new off the line was just his way of doing it. She stepped over the rail, one foot briefly touching the wing as she climbed into the cockpit.
Sinking down into the seat of the Mark VII felt… Gods it was hard to even put a description on it. The foam of the seat had just the right give, designed to protect back and neck from the effects of a high G launch, it had a tendency to sink just a little when not in the air, the soft leather cupping the body like a gentle embrace.
She closed her eyes and ran her hand over the console, remembering, knowing what each button was for, as well as just how hard you needed to push each one, and when… Her hand ghosted over the controls, seeking out the startup sequence, not pressing but just hovering. She could almost feel the vibrations as she recalled the feel of the Dual Voram engines coming to life, the high Voram kicking in seconds later. The intense power at her fingertips… Her hand instinctively shifted to the flight stick, closing around the perfectly formed base, fingers relaxed against the controls.
In her mind she ran over dogfight after dogfight, the feel of pushing this magnificent creature to its limits… every shake and pull brought on by high G maneuvers… her first thought was that it was better than sex… followed by her body responding with a very clear 'Yeah could use some of that too…' A smirk played across her lips. It wouldn’t be the first time… and just maybe it would wind her down enough to let her sleep. A glance around told her this end of the deck was empty… third shift was working at the far end on rebuilding another viper…. Closing her eyes she sunk back into the chair, the hand not on the controls coming up to brush over her breast, lightly squeezing, her thumb brushing over the nipple, already hard from the slight chill in the air. She let her fingers trace light circles around the nipple, brushing across every so often, drawing out the sensation… just like the controls of the viper, she knew all the right places, the right sequence… she relinquished her hold on the flight stick and brought her other hand up to her other breast, mirroring the actions. Slow, light touches, over and over… hands gently squeezing….mmmm yes… that was definitely the startup sequence…. She could feel the heat coiling in her, thighs aching, begging for contact… not yet...
Hands sliding down ver her stomach, she fond the hem of her shirt, slipping one hand beneath, sliding further up, pushing her bra up over the top of her breast, half exposing her to anyone who might have been passing on the catwalk overhead. She didn't care… all that mattered was that her thumb and forefinger found the nipple, pinching lightly.
Her breath was already rapid, heavy, punctuated by soft whimpers as she let herself get lost in the sensation… She'd never done anything halfway… pleasuring herself was no exception… she always drew it out to its fullest.
The hand at the hem of her shirt slipped lower, brushing over her thigh, teasing, taunting, the ache becoming near unbearable as it shifted between slightly parted thighs, brushing back and forth over the fabric of her shorts that kept eager fingers from pushing into her. Instead she continued to stroke over the material, lightly squeezing the mound of flesh, palm pushing hard against her clothed crotch, building the tension higher and higher until she could feel the damp head through the fabric. Definitely time…
She brought the hand up as her other pushed the other side of her bra up, fully exposing her chest as she turned attentions to the other breast. Finding the waistband of her running shorts she slipped her hand beneath, fingers seeking out the heat like missiles, rocketing straight to her core. She shifted, sinking lower to let her knees fall open, two fingers locking on, sinking in… the fleshy pad at the base of her thumb settling against her clit, each movement brushing it just enough…
Hips bucked lightly against her hand, breathing hard…. The sound of metal banging on metal down the deck masking the throaty moans, body sweat slick and trembling, she pushed on. Just a little more… the ache turning to a pulse… a burn… threatening to sear her alive from the inside out. She could almost see spots behind her eyes, a sensation so close to G-LOC… and she broke, biting back a scream, so intense she bit into her lip, breaking the skin.
She was still a moment, chest heaving to catch her breath as she straightened her clothes. It was a few moments before she could move. She knew she needed to get up and go now, sleep already threatening to carry her away. It took every effort she cold muster to haul herself up out of the cockpit and make her way back up the stairs to the catwalk. Continuing to the nearest hatch she glanced back, just able to see the nose of her bird before disappearing through the hatch. Maybe it wasn't so crazy for her to love a machine after all…
Shattered Glass - Muse Topic
For a time i was a member of a writing group that had you adopt a character and write on specific topics... here are some of he results.
Character Name: Kara Thrace
Origin: Battlestar Galactica
Prompt: August 2006 prompt: Picture 1 (Broken glass)
Word Count: 460
Rating: PG
Shattered glass is everywhere… every turn every corner. I know instinctively its not really there… not here on this desolate rock. But, back home on its namesake… the last memories I have of the once beautiful cities are blocks and blocks of shattered glass…
Very little else was disturbed. It was eerie. Great cities now ghost towns. No people in sight, no birds, no bodies… just the sound of shattered glass crunching beneath your feet with every step.
It’s a strange irony that the image of shattered glass fits us so well now. We're a shattered people, torn and divided. Scattered across this strange new world… Not long ago we were united, searching for a common goal. Then we settled, lost focus, lost the drive. That’s when they came back and broke us once more. Scattering pieces of a once vast civilization to the winds…
Now we can't even look at one another… some have chosen to throw in the towel, to give their lives over to servitude. Others have taken to the hills and fight with every fiber of their being. Then there are those of us who are caught in between… neither collaborator no resistance… just prisoners.
Each day is going through the motions, just existing. Wondering if this will be the day my death warrant is signed, if today is the day I will tell him no and he will listen. Or will I kill him again? Its become a morbid ritual. At least once I week I kill him now… I don't even have to think about it anymore; yesterday it was with a butter knife at the dinner table. I know he can't die, not really. They just download him into a new body and he comes back again. He doesn’t even mention it, just carries on with trying to convince me this is where I belong, that he loves me… despite the fact he's died at my hands at least five or six times now.
Its almost become a way to cope, my only protest…
I look in the mirror…the glass is intact, but the woman it reflects is shattered. I don't know who I am anymore. He's breaking me down piece by piece… his love is so strong… so unconditional. I don't know how to deal with that. Instinctively I know he's a machine, but then again, he's more human than some people I've called a friend. More human than other's I've loved… Has he succeeded? Do I hate him so much because he's made me love him?
Outside the window the legions of centurions march along the street below. I don't hear the grinding of gears or the clamor of the metal… all I can hear is the crunching of shattered glass.
Character Name: Kara Thrace
Origin: Battlestar Galactica
Prompt: August 2006 prompt: Picture 1 (Broken glass)
Word Count: 460
Rating: PG
Shattered glass is everywhere… every turn every corner. I know instinctively its not really there… not here on this desolate rock. But, back home on its namesake… the last memories I have of the once beautiful cities are blocks and blocks of shattered glass…
Very little else was disturbed. It was eerie. Great cities now ghost towns. No people in sight, no birds, no bodies… just the sound of shattered glass crunching beneath your feet with every step.
It’s a strange irony that the image of shattered glass fits us so well now. We're a shattered people, torn and divided. Scattered across this strange new world… Not long ago we were united, searching for a common goal. Then we settled, lost focus, lost the drive. That’s when they came back and broke us once more. Scattering pieces of a once vast civilization to the winds…
Now we can't even look at one another… some have chosen to throw in the towel, to give their lives over to servitude. Others have taken to the hills and fight with every fiber of their being. Then there are those of us who are caught in between… neither collaborator no resistance… just prisoners.
Each day is going through the motions, just existing. Wondering if this will be the day my death warrant is signed, if today is the day I will tell him no and he will listen. Or will I kill him again? Its become a morbid ritual. At least once I week I kill him now… I don't even have to think about it anymore; yesterday it was with a butter knife at the dinner table. I know he can't die, not really. They just download him into a new body and he comes back again. He doesn’t even mention it, just carries on with trying to convince me this is where I belong, that he loves me… despite the fact he's died at my hands at least five or six times now.
Its almost become a way to cope, my only protest…
I look in the mirror…the glass is intact, but the woman it reflects is shattered. I don't know who I am anymore. He's breaking me down piece by piece… his love is so strong… so unconditional. I don't know how to deal with that. Instinctively I know he's a machine, but then again, he's more human than some people I've called a friend. More human than other's I've loved… Has he succeeded? Do I hate him so much because he's made me love him?
Outside the window the legions of centurions march along the street below. I don't hear the grinding of gears or the clamor of the metal… all I can hear is the crunching of shattered glass.
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