TOUCHED BY DARKNESS
Sep. 22nd, 2010 10:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nymeria_dwTOUCHED BY DARKNESS
(a Farscape fanfiction)
Author: Nymeria
Disclaimer: the Farscape universe and its characters do not belong to me, neither does Babylon 5 - I love both shows and I'm just having fun playing with them
Rating: PG
Settings and Spoilers: A little after the events of PKW
This was written for TERRAFIRMA's 6th Beach Bash, which this year required to mix Farscape with another realm of our choice. Since I love Babylon 5 just as much as I love Farscape, I've enjoyed mixing them up, very much.
*******************************************************************
"There is a storm coming up, a black and terrible storm."
Elric the Technomage, episode "The Geometry of Shadows" (2.03): Babylon5
He had never expected victory to taste like ash.
All his careful planning, all his focus had gone into that goal, and when it came to be, it fell quite short of the mark. True, things had not gone as planned: the Scarrans were not vanquished, merely subdued; the weapon he had sought for so long had turned out to be a two-edged sword. And that scantily-dressed tralk had reaped the honors for the outcome of the war. Or what honors were to be had, given the circumstances.
But worse than anything else, strife and conflict had seemed to evaporate before the new peace that was sweeping across the Uncharted Territories. Peace! The word left a bad taste in his mouth, and a feeling of simmering rage that made him want to lash out at something - or someone - to relieve the pent-up fury.
He had not labored so much to see the Peacekeepers transformed into little more than errand-runners, to see their might ground into dust!
Scorpius suddenly felt the need to escape the stifling metal walls of the carrier, to be elsewhere. To seek a new purpose. Commandeering a Marauder he plotted a course for the nearby planet, ignoring the puzzled stares of the bridge officers and Braca's worried frown.
Relkash, the only inhabitable planet of this system, was a big, grayish-brown ball scoured by constant winds, where the omnipresent dust created a murky light that seemed to attract the shadier representatives of the Uncharteds' population. Together with miners for the rare quatin ore, the planet's residents consisted mainly of commodities sellers, traders, and of course smugglers.
When Scorpius entered the refreshment house, the busy hum of conversation stopped for a few microts and the patrons stared at him in silence, sizing him up. His lips cracked into the shadow of a smile, accompanied by a slight hiss that was part amusement and part challenge: suddenly a confrontation looked like a good way to break his dark mood.
Yet none came: the buzz resumed as if nothing had happened, and everyone turned back to their business, although a few pair of eyes followed, more or less covertly, his deliberate progress toward an empty table.
Ordering raslak from the server, a small, furtive-looking being that spoke in hoarse whispers, Scorpius sipped at his drink, looking around in a leisurely fashion: in the left-hand farthest corner two Sheyangs were bartering for supplies with a huge felinoid and not liking the deal, at least judging from the rising thermal signatures coming from their bodies.
Toward the back of the establishment, under the only window, a seedy-looking Sebacean was pushing something over the table toward an orange-skinned Sulang.
Probably a dream-dust transaction, Scorpius mused: Sulangs were the only suppliers of the drug, a very addictive narcotic that made you live your chosen dreams as if they were real. Until you died of a hemorrhaging brain, that's it.
Continuing his scan of the room he saw a man staring at him with a slight smile on his face: when their eyes met, the man inclined his head at Scorpius, as if in greeting.
Not the kind of person that would stand out in a crowd: medium height and build, slightly wavy brown hair, brown eyes lit by a glint of humor, he would not have attracted Scorpius' attention if it hadn't been for the friendly overture. And the strange signature he emitted.
The outward appearance was that of a Sebacean, but the hybrid's perceptions told him there was a difference - close, but not quite, to Crichton's but with an added…something that Scorpius found fascinating. As if reading an unspoken signal, the man rose from his seat and approached, indicating the vacant chair at the half-breed's table.
"May I?" The voice was soft, cultured, studiously non-threatening.
"Please, sit down." His previous dark mood all but evaporated, Scorpius felt his interest piqued and even something akin to eagerness.
The stranger ordered a fresh round for both of them, and when the drinks arrived he raised his glass in a toast.
"To a felicitous meeting…Scorpius."
Checking his startled reaction, Scorpius raised his own glass staring at the man across the short distance, a cold edge in his voice.
"You have the advantage on me, Mr…"
"Morden." The man smiled in a deprecating fashion, "You are a well-known individual, and I am quite pleased I could finally meet you."
"And what is the reason for your...interest?"
"A question. And of course its answer."
"The question being…?"
"What do you want?"
It was so unexpected, so far from the range of the possible queries Scorpius had anticipated, that for a few microts he was frozen by surprise. Then irritation set in.
"Is that supposed to be a joke?"
"Not at all." Morden's features were still relaxed, but the eyes had lost their humorous glint, and studied Scorpius with calm intensity. "What do you want?"
So this man wanted to…play. Very well. Scorpius decided it would be amusing to play along. After all he enjoyed mind games and…he had nothing better to do at the moment.
"It's a strange question, though. What is its purpose?"
"The question is its own purpose," smiled Morden. "What do you want?"
The man was nothing but persistent. Scorpius liked this kind of single-mindedness.
"Very well. What if I told you I want limitless power and riches?"
"I'd say that you were mocking me," Morden took the sting out of his words with a smile, "but I can assure you my question is serious, and that the answer might prove to be a life-changing one. So, what do you want?"
Scorpius felt as if they were the only people in the refreshment house: the ambient noise seemed subdued, as were the occasional shouts of the patrons, or the smell of alcohol and the ever-present dust. His world, his consciousness, were focused on this strange individual and his intense stare.
And not just him.
On both sides of Morden the very air looked a little darker, colder, and something– something seemed to shimmer just out of perception's range, like an image seen with the corner of one's eye. An involuntary shiver went down Scorpius' spine, but it was not fright. It was anticipation.
"What's in it for you, Morden? Why are you so interested in what I want?"
"Oh, I'm just a messenger." Morden relaxed against the back of his chair, smiling once again. "Do you believe in change, Scorpius? The kind of change that brings growth?"
"Change is necessary, otherwise there would be stagnation." Scorpius discovered he was enjoying himself immensely: he had not had so intriguing a conversation in…more time than he cared to remember.
"Do you perceive yourself as stagnating?"
"The whole universe is." Taking a sip of his drink, the half-breed elaborated, "Since the Eidolons came back on the scene things have changed: there is no drive toward improvement, no…"
"No strife?"
"Exactly! Without strife, the mind…goes asleep. This infatuation with peace," he spat out the word as if it were a piece of rotten fruit, "is making everyone soft!"
"Softness does not become the Peacekeepers…" Morden agreed quietly, as if talking to himself.
"No one understands that losing our edge will expose us to the danger of being unable to defend ourselves against a powerful enemy. Even more powerful than the Scarrans!"
"So, what do you want?"
This time there was no hesitation, no game-playing. "I want the Peacekeeper to be what they used to be, a force to be reckoned with. I want their name to inspire respect, and fear. I want it all back the way it was." Thumping his glass on the table-top, Scorpius directed a sarcastic smile toward Morden. "But it's a moot point, isn't it?"
"Not necessarily. As I told you, I'm a messenger. My…associates believe as you do that only through conflict there can be a real growth. It's the only way to insure the survival of the strongest and fittest, and the release of their potential."
"Your associates? Who are they?"
"They prefer to keep a low profile, but have been following your…career with great interest. They believe you are a person of great talents that are presently unseen and unrecognized. They want to change that."
"In what way?"
"I am confident that it's possible to find a common ground between their perception of things and your desire for a more…stimulating environment. They could promote situations more…suitable to your tastes."
"What will be their return for this…improvement? Or better, what do they want?"
"Oh, nothing major. In the future, should we reach an...agreement and deliver on it, we might come and ask you a favor. That's all." Morden's brilliant smile was back full force.
The sudden silence between them was broken by the chirping of Scorpius' comms. Opening the link with an annoyed hiss he barked, "What?"
"I'm sorry to disturb you Sir," Braca's tinny voice came out of the device, "we received new orders from Peacekeeper High Command and need to leave orbit as soon as possible."
"On my way." Closing the comms with an aggrieved sigh Scorpius glanced at Morden, "It seems we have to cut our conversation short, interesting as it was." He rose from the table, the other man following suit, and they left the establishment together.
Outside the wind had picked up strength and the setting sun's feeble light was drowning in the billowing dust. Scorpius noticed that Morden hardly seemed aware of the wind-driven stinging grains of sand while he walked alongside him toward his waiting Marauder.
"I am certain that we will have many more stimulating conversations in the near future," said Morden, raising his voice to be heard over the howl of the wind.
At the foot of the Marauder's landing steps, Scorpius turned toward his new acquaintance, "I would also enjoy more...thought-provoking conversations as this one, Morden. How can I contact you or your...associates?"
"Oh, we will contact you, Scorpius, sooner that you can imagine. We look forward to a...mutually beneficial partnership."
Suddenly, Scorpius had the sensation that things, momentous things, had just gotten in motion. Excited as this made him feel, there was a nagging sensation at the back of his mind that he had somehow relinquished control over his actions, but he shoved it away in defiance: he had always, always been able to control events, to guide them in the direction he wanted. This would be no different.
"Then I look forward to our next meeting," said Scorpius climbing aboard the Marauder, "and may it be the first in a satisfying long list!"
"Oh, it will be my friend," replied Morden, "without the shadow of a doubt!"
During lift-off Scorpius watched the other man's figure dwindling in the distance through the forward viewport: for a moment, the swirling dust seemed to clear a little around Morden, and he had the impression of seeing two many-legged, spidery dark shapes on his sides, but when he looked again there was only the man waving cheerfully at him.
Soon, the blackness of space swallowed it all....
(a Farscape fanfiction)
Author: Nymeria
Disclaimer: the Farscape universe and its characters do not belong to me, neither does Babylon 5 - I love both shows and I'm just having fun playing with them
Rating: PG
Settings and Spoilers: A little after the events of PKW
This was written for TERRAFIRMA's 6th Beach Bash, which this year required to mix Farscape with another realm of our choice. Since I love Babylon 5 just as much as I love Farscape, I've enjoyed mixing them up, very much.
*******************************************************************
"There is a storm coming up, a black and terrible storm."
Elric the Technomage, episode "The Geometry of Shadows" (2.03): Babylon5
He had never expected victory to taste like ash.
All his careful planning, all his focus had gone into that goal, and when it came to be, it fell quite short of the mark. True, things had not gone as planned: the Scarrans were not vanquished, merely subdued; the weapon he had sought for so long had turned out to be a two-edged sword. And that scantily-dressed tralk had reaped the honors for the outcome of the war. Or what honors were to be had, given the circumstances.
But worse than anything else, strife and conflict had seemed to evaporate before the new peace that was sweeping across the Uncharted Territories. Peace! The word left a bad taste in his mouth, and a feeling of simmering rage that made him want to lash out at something - or someone - to relieve the pent-up fury.
He had not labored so much to see the Peacekeepers transformed into little more than errand-runners, to see their might ground into dust!
Scorpius suddenly felt the need to escape the stifling metal walls of the carrier, to be elsewhere. To seek a new purpose. Commandeering a Marauder he plotted a course for the nearby planet, ignoring the puzzled stares of the bridge officers and Braca's worried frown.
Relkash, the only inhabitable planet of this system, was a big, grayish-brown ball scoured by constant winds, where the omnipresent dust created a murky light that seemed to attract the shadier representatives of the Uncharteds' population. Together with miners for the rare quatin ore, the planet's residents consisted mainly of commodities sellers, traders, and of course smugglers.
When Scorpius entered the refreshment house, the busy hum of conversation stopped for a few microts and the patrons stared at him in silence, sizing him up. His lips cracked into the shadow of a smile, accompanied by a slight hiss that was part amusement and part challenge: suddenly a confrontation looked like a good way to break his dark mood.
Yet none came: the buzz resumed as if nothing had happened, and everyone turned back to their business, although a few pair of eyes followed, more or less covertly, his deliberate progress toward an empty table.
Ordering raslak from the server, a small, furtive-looking being that spoke in hoarse whispers, Scorpius sipped at his drink, looking around in a leisurely fashion: in the left-hand farthest corner two Sheyangs were bartering for supplies with a huge felinoid and not liking the deal, at least judging from the rising thermal signatures coming from their bodies.
Toward the back of the establishment, under the only window, a seedy-looking Sebacean was pushing something over the table toward an orange-skinned Sulang.
Probably a dream-dust transaction, Scorpius mused: Sulangs were the only suppliers of the drug, a very addictive narcotic that made you live your chosen dreams as if they were real. Until you died of a hemorrhaging brain, that's it.
Continuing his scan of the room he saw a man staring at him with a slight smile on his face: when their eyes met, the man inclined his head at Scorpius, as if in greeting.
Not the kind of person that would stand out in a crowd: medium height and build, slightly wavy brown hair, brown eyes lit by a glint of humor, he would not have attracted Scorpius' attention if it hadn't been for the friendly overture. And the strange signature he emitted.
The outward appearance was that of a Sebacean, but the hybrid's perceptions told him there was a difference - close, but not quite, to Crichton's but with an added…something that Scorpius found fascinating. As if reading an unspoken signal, the man rose from his seat and approached, indicating the vacant chair at the half-breed's table.
"May I?" The voice was soft, cultured, studiously non-threatening.
"Please, sit down." His previous dark mood all but evaporated, Scorpius felt his interest piqued and even something akin to eagerness.
The stranger ordered a fresh round for both of them, and when the drinks arrived he raised his glass in a toast.
"To a felicitous meeting…Scorpius."
Checking his startled reaction, Scorpius raised his own glass staring at the man across the short distance, a cold edge in his voice.
"You have the advantage on me, Mr…"
"Morden." The man smiled in a deprecating fashion, "You are a well-known individual, and I am quite pleased I could finally meet you."
"And what is the reason for your...interest?"
"A question. And of course its answer."
"The question being…?"
"What do you want?"
It was so unexpected, so far from the range of the possible queries Scorpius had anticipated, that for a few microts he was frozen by surprise. Then irritation set in.
"Is that supposed to be a joke?"
"Not at all." Morden's features were still relaxed, but the eyes had lost their humorous glint, and studied Scorpius with calm intensity. "What do you want?"
So this man wanted to…play. Very well. Scorpius decided it would be amusing to play along. After all he enjoyed mind games and…he had nothing better to do at the moment.
"It's a strange question, though. What is its purpose?"
"The question is its own purpose," smiled Morden. "What do you want?"
The man was nothing but persistent. Scorpius liked this kind of single-mindedness.
"Very well. What if I told you I want limitless power and riches?"
"I'd say that you were mocking me," Morden took the sting out of his words with a smile, "but I can assure you my question is serious, and that the answer might prove to be a life-changing one. So, what do you want?"
Scorpius felt as if they were the only people in the refreshment house: the ambient noise seemed subdued, as were the occasional shouts of the patrons, or the smell of alcohol and the ever-present dust. His world, his consciousness, were focused on this strange individual and his intense stare.
And not just him.
On both sides of Morden the very air looked a little darker, colder, and something– something seemed to shimmer just out of perception's range, like an image seen with the corner of one's eye. An involuntary shiver went down Scorpius' spine, but it was not fright. It was anticipation.
"What's in it for you, Morden? Why are you so interested in what I want?"
"Oh, I'm just a messenger." Morden relaxed against the back of his chair, smiling once again. "Do you believe in change, Scorpius? The kind of change that brings growth?"
"Change is necessary, otherwise there would be stagnation." Scorpius discovered he was enjoying himself immensely: he had not had so intriguing a conversation in…more time than he cared to remember.
"Do you perceive yourself as stagnating?"
"The whole universe is." Taking a sip of his drink, the half-breed elaborated, "Since the Eidolons came back on the scene things have changed: there is no drive toward improvement, no…"
"No strife?"
"Exactly! Without strife, the mind…goes asleep. This infatuation with peace," he spat out the word as if it were a piece of rotten fruit, "is making everyone soft!"
"Softness does not become the Peacekeepers…" Morden agreed quietly, as if talking to himself.
"No one understands that losing our edge will expose us to the danger of being unable to defend ourselves against a powerful enemy. Even more powerful than the Scarrans!"
"So, what do you want?"
This time there was no hesitation, no game-playing. "I want the Peacekeeper to be what they used to be, a force to be reckoned with. I want their name to inspire respect, and fear. I want it all back the way it was." Thumping his glass on the table-top, Scorpius directed a sarcastic smile toward Morden. "But it's a moot point, isn't it?"
"Not necessarily. As I told you, I'm a messenger. My…associates believe as you do that only through conflict there can be a real growth. It's the only way to insure the survival of the strongest and fittest, and the release of their potential."
"Your associates? Who are they?"
"They prefer to keep a low profile, but have been following your…career with great interest. They believe you are a person of great talents that are presently unseen and unrecognized. They want to change that."
"In what way?"
"I am confident that it's possible to find a common ground between their perception of things and your desire for a more…stimulating environment. They could promote situations more…suitable to your tastes."
"What will be their return for this…improvement? Or better, what do they want?"
"Oh, nothing major. In the future, should we reach an...agreement and deliver on it, we might come and ask you a favor. That's all." Morden's brilliant smile was back full force.
The sudden silence between them was broken by the chirping of Scorpius' comms. Opening the link with an annoyed hiss he barked, "What?"
"I'm sorry to disturb you Sir," Braca's tinny voice came out of the device, "we received new orders from Peacekeeper High Command and need to leave orbit as soon as possible."
"On my way." Closing the comms with an aggrieved sigh Scorpius glanced at Morden, "It seems we have to cut our conversation short, interesting as it was." He rose from the table, the other man following suit, and they left the establishment together.
Outside the wind had picked up strength and the setting sun's feeble light was drowning in the billowing dust. Scorpius noticed that Morden hardly seemed aware of the wind-driven stinging grains of sand while he walked alongside him toward his waiting Marauder.
"I am certain that we will have many more stimulating conversations in the near future," said Morden, raising his voice to be heard over the howl of the wind.
At the foot of the Marauder's landing steps, Scorpius turned toward his new acquaintance, "I would also enjoy more...thought-provoking conversations as this one, Morden. How can I contact you or your...associates?"
"Oh, we will contact you, Scorpius, sooner that you can imagine. We look forward to a...mutually beneficial partnership."
Suddenly, Scorpius had the sensation that things, momentous things, had just gotten in motion. Excited as this made him feel, there was a nagging sensation at the back of his mind that he had somehow relinquished control over his actions, but he shoved it away in defiance: he had always, always been able to control events, to guide them in the direction he wanted. This would be no different.
"Then I look forward to our next meeting," said Scorpius climbing aboard the Marauder, "and may it be the first in a satisfying long list!"
"Oh, it will be my friend," replied Morden, "without the shadow of a doubt!"
During lift-off Scorpius watched the other man's figure dwindling in the distance through the forward viewport: for a moment, the swirling dust seemed to clear a little around Morden, and he had the impression of seeing two many-legged, spidery dark shapes on his sides, but when he looked again there was only the man waving cheerfully at him.
Soon, the blackness of space swallowed it all....
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-22 09:07 pm (UTC)*falls over herself in glee*
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-23 04:54 pm (UTC)To be truthful my first idea was to write a story featuring my beloved G'Kar, but when these two started waving their arms at me, trying to get noticed, I had to cave in...
I'm glad you had fun!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-23 12:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-23 04:56 pm (UTC)B5 is quite different from Farscape, but they both give you compelling stories, awesome writing and stellar performers. Jump right in...
Thank you for stopping by and commenting!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-27 01:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-27 05:10 pm (UTC)Seeing these two together is quite disturbing, isn't it? I'm glad that you could overcome your dislike of Scorpius to read this, as I'm glad you enjoyed it.
When the theme for the Beach Bash was announced, I thought immediately of B5 and wanted to put G'Kar in, since he's my favorite character, but suddenly Morden was there, refusing to go away, and I had to give in... :-D
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-29 06:20 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-29 08:35 pm (UTC)