nymeria_dw (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nymeria_dw) wrote2011-12-13 09:47 pm
nymeria_dw) wrote2011-12-13 09:47 pm
Entry tags:
Farscape Land Big Bang - A CHANCE FOR REDEMPTION
Second fanfic of four written for the Big Bang Challenge
Disclaimer: Farscape and its characters don't belong to me, I'm just borrowing them for a few microts...
A CHANCE FOR REDEMPTION (PG - 13)
The guards escorted her to a holding cell, motioning her inside with a wordless gesture. The long walk through the corridors had been consumed in silence, standard practice for detention protocol. And now silence enveloped her in the cramped cell, its bare metal walls broken only by the naked cot and the open toilet stall.
She sat down on the cot, back straight, head held high, refusing to let the security cameras record any sign of weakness, any hint of the fear that gnawed at her insides with small, cruel bites as the long arns went by.
Not knowing was worse than anything else. She suspected, of course: a simple misdemeanor, an assignment not satisfactorily fulfilled, would not require detention. A small stain on one's performance would be dealt with by a superior officer, punishment to be administered either privately or publicly, depending on its intrinsic learning value for the troops.
No, this was something she had been dreading for some time now, her past transgression compounded by the driving need to share the secret, to say the words out loud.
How foolish had that been! How careless.
Either the place had been monitored or the child had talked. Or both.
What did she expect? How could she forget the blind, mindless devotion of youth? At that age she had been drinking every word the Proctors uttered, following instructions to the letter, wanting so desperately to be perfect, to be the best. To conform.
Dumping such knowledge on a child's shoulders meant inviting disaster, but in that moment she had not cared, she had simply ceased thinking, driven by the unstoppable urge to build a connection. To affirm a bond she had never imagined she would crave with all her being.
Foolish. Careless. Blind.
The look she had seen in the child's eyes (Aeryn, her name is Aeryn…) had not been wonder, or the breathless amazement for an unthinkable, unlooked-for discovery. No, it must have been fear.
Foolish. Careless. Blind. Suicidal.
She knew that her crimes meant a death sentence, that they were both doomed: she and the man she had found so compelling, so utterly different from the others that she had broken every rule for him. Even enjoyed breaking them.
Her train of thought ground to a halt when the metal door slid aside revealing two helmeted guards, maybe even the same ones who had taken her here before, she could not tell.
They boarded the level riser to the upper decks and brought her to a room that was almost as empty as the cell, except for the row of blank monitors along the wall.
And Commander Daros.
She snapped to attention, the man's gaze passing through her as if she were transparent. Turning his back on her, he touched some controls, the slight hum of activating screens quite loud in the silence. Not daring to look at what the Commander was doing, she kept her eyes focused front and center on the blank wall.
"Officer Xhalax Sun," the name itself sounded like an accusation, so cold was his voice, "one of my best pilots. An outstanding service record. An outstanding disappointment, as well." He came into her field of vision, stopping only a few denches in front of her face. "What madness possessed you?" The whispered words contrasted with the smoldering rage in his eyes. She did not reply.
"Every once in a while," the Commander's voice softened to a more even tone, but Xhalax felt the ice under it, and a shiver of fear went through her, "I have to discipline one or more of my officers who think they know best. That they can do what they please, and get away with it. You stand accused of treason: do you know what the penalty is, Officer Sun?"
"Death." She felt a small measure of pride in the steadiness of her voice.
"Indeed. But you see, much as I loathe lack of discipline, I also abhor waste. And sentencing you to death would be a waste of good material." Xhalax felt a tiny glimmer of hope, fought to keep it from reaching her features, lest she gave herself away. The Commander stepped aside, giving her an unimpeded view of the screens.
She understood where she was, now: the control room for the flight simulators.
Two of them were in operation: Talyn sat in one, staring listlessly ahead, and the child - Aeryn - in the other, looking in awe at the controls, touching them with hesitant fingertips, a small, delighted smile playing on her lips.
"There lies your chance for redemption, Officer Sun." Daros spoke with steely softness. "As I said, you are good material and might be salvageable still. On the other hand, Lyczac is past his prime and has demonstrated a despicable tendency for… softness." The Commander spat out the word like rotten food. "The child… well, she shows great promise, but so do many other youngsters. One more or less will make little difference."
Xhalax stared up at him, the flash of sudden understanding shocking her to the core. Daros lifted his mouth in a mirthless grin. "Yes, Sun. One of them must die, to correct the… indiscretion, therefore you must decide which one it will be."
"I can't–" Breath caught in her throat.
"Let me show you the set-up here." Daros ignored her outburst, pointing. "These are the life-support controls and with this one," his finger indicated a switch, "you simulate a decompressive explosion, quite lethal for an unsuited pilot. It's almost instantaneous and the subject will not suffer. Much. Which one, Sun? It's up to you."
"No, I–"
"Don't think even for a microt to avoid this by refusing, because that way they will both die: you are here to learn a lesson, Sun. What remains to be decided is whether you want to end your days as the lowest of the low, or to try and redeem yourself and your career. I am offering you a choice, Sun. So choose!"
Xhalax stared down at the two monitors, watching the man and the child inside the replica Prowler cockpits.
Talyn slumped in his seat, shoulders curved in a dejected slump. When had his hair become so speckled with grey? She had never noticed before, and it made him look so much older, smaller. Ready to admit defeat.
On the other screen, Aeryn studied the instrumentation with an avid face, eyes alight with excitement - as she had so long ago, in what seemed like another lifetime.
"The man or the child." Relentless, Daros stood by her side, his voice a cruel goad. "Make your choice, Sun. Now."
Xhalax's hand hovered above the controls, trembling.
She was a soldier, killing had never troubled her before. She had always done what duty required, what her training had prepared her for. But there had been no training for this.
The man or the child?
She had cared for him, admiration for his bravery and his accomplishments turning into something deeper.
But she cared more for the child. Her child. The bond undeniable, pulling at her with unsuspected strength through flesh and blood. Pushing at muscles and sinews, moving her hand forward, unerringly.
Xhalax Sun made her choice.
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It's funny how in the series her character never really struck a chord with me (I can't explain why!) but I had to wait to read this to feel a gush of empathy for her and the dreadful choice she had to make!
You made me want want to go and watch the eps with her again...so you see you are now guilty of me watching even more of FS, which is not healthy!!! ;D
Another lovely fic, Nym!
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She, somehow, wanted to "be more" - she wanted to love, she wanted a child and wanted that child to know she was loved - but circumstances prevented her, tragically so, to be what Aeryn finally achieved in the end.
I apologize if I compelled you to watch again some Farscape against your will... Should I put some warnings on the page, against further... contamination? :-D :-D
Thank you so much for stopping by and commenting!
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Anyway - heartbreaking. Good job Nym!
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You know, for some reason the way I wrote it seemed more cruel than it would have been if she's done it herself: I can't find a reason, but that's the way it looked to me...
Thanks for stopping by :-)
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no subject
Thanks! #blush#