My FanFic Offer

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My FanFic Offer

Postby oblivion7 on Sun Dec 24, 2006 6:27 am

I've posted this short story on TerraFirma, but to [hopefully] get the most feedback, I'm doing so here. It's been around for a couple of years, along with several others, and I've finally decided there's no reason to wait any longer since 2007 will be the last Farscape con.

All the usual copyrights apply. Feel free to email your comments to me.



INTERLUDE: GREEN-EYED MONSTER

Crais lay motionless until he was certain that Crichton and Aeryn were unlikely to return. He let out a slow breath, wincing at the pain of his skin against the soft covers.

He looked again at the welts on his body, fiery pulsating pustules of anger that only began to subside their agonizing attack when Talyn’s neural cluster had been disrupted. Crais gingerly moved his hand to his interface, the only part of him that was unaffected. Closing his eyes and tiptoeing through the massive mind of his torturer/alter ego, he ventured to see how close Talyn was to recovery. He nodded to himself. Thankfully the young Leviathan was still out, but it wouldn’t be for much longer. Despite Aeryn’s quick thinking, Talyn was already re-routing the shorted pathways in order to activate himself. Crais gratefully savored the recovery time.

With Talyn disabled, he would be incapable of listening to whatever Aeryn and Crichton were saying, if anything. He knew his immediate concern should be his ship, but his curiosity—and annoyance--at their relationship seemed to get in the way of his better judgment. Strange that he should find himself so attracted to an officer who, until Velorek brought her to his attention, was just another pilot to use as fodder in battle. He was more than a little disappointed that after showing her the data crystal about her mother, Aeryn turned directly to Crichton instead of him. Even now that she had the neural interface, she seemed to prefer the strange human, despite his behavior after “finding” Talyn’s enhanced recording of Aeryn. But he would use her for as long as he could, hoping to drive a permanent wedge between her and Crichton but knowing that she wasn’t the same submissive Prowler pilot as when they met.

He thought back to those days, and managed a smile. Things had certainly changed, but he had achieved the one goal he had always wanted: a well-armed Leviathan with a Peacekeeper commander. He wondered how long it had taken the crews to dismantle the male that had serviced Moya. It had been an especially magnificent specimen, strong-willed and independent even after the death of its pilot, and nearly impossible to control despite collars, drugs and the removal of half its central neural synapses. He had been pleased at his choice, for Moya was docile, controllable and most important, fertile. Pity the male's seeds couldn't have been saved, but better that he was dismantled than to risk more lives trying to breed him again.

And Talyn was a crowning achievement. Despite his emotional immaturity he was growing rapidly; most leviathans were unable to starburst at so early an age, and Talyn was already a master. If only he could control the youngster's temper! He remembered his own childhood, with a family unit that made him feel secure and safe. Maybe that was what Talyn needed. Crais had never bothered to study Leviathan social structure, if indeed there was such a thing, nor had he learned about the way to properly rear a living ship. At the time, they were little more than animals to be used as he saw fit. Now, having been joined to one for better than a cycle, he understood what it meant to be intimately attached another living being. Even his relationships with women had never been as secure, as fulfilling as his days with Talyn. More than anything else, nursing Talyn helped him heal the wounds from him brother’s death.

It had even satiated his taste for power, which he never thought would be filled.

Of course, Talyn had access to the records displaying his creation, but neither of them ever discussed it. Crais wondered again if the reason Talyn had chosen him for the “hand of friendship” was to exact a form of revenge against him, but there was no basis for his belief. Leviathans had never been known to hold a grudge, or retaliate against even the most brutish and sanguinary treatment. Besides, Talyn and Crais had enjoyed many good times together. When they had been alone, the two of them had always proved eager to ply the spaces between the stars, whisking through the territories from sun to sun as fast as they could, careening as close to asteroids as they dared, outrunning Peacekeeper prowlers or Scarran scouts or pirate marauders, learning, growing in strength and knowledge of each other and the universe around them, reveling a freedom than neither had ever dreamed possible...

Crais sighed. There were many times he had thought about giving up, letting anyone who offered a weeks’ wage have Talyn, if only to stop the pain of youth’s tantrums. Maybe it would have helped if he understood children better-- but that had always been left to others, even before he became a Peacekeeper. He always reminded himself, though, that Talyn's value as a weapon was far too great for Crais to let Talyn go so easily. That, plus he had actually come to depend on the Leviathan. It might be due to the interface, but Crais knew he would feel naked and empty without the ship’s comforting hum and warmth. Even now, with Talyn semi-conscious, he felt a strange, haunting loneliness that he had felt only infrequently as commander. He longed for his familiar to awaken.

Besides, his original agenda had not changed.

He sometimes wondered just how large Talyn would get, and how long it would take for him to reach maturity. The youth would likely get at least as large as Moya, and fully armed he would be more than formidable. If, however, he gained his sire's size, Crais knew they would be unstoppable. Notice would certainly come then, and he could dictate his own terms. And the breeding possibilities would be limitless now that he was not constrained by Peacekeeper rules…not that a detail such as rules would make much difference.

Crais turned carefully onto his back, closing his eyes. Though Aeryn was a secondary concern, he thought of her more because of her attraction to Crichton than any honest desire he felt. He also found himself feeling a grudging admiration for Crichton despite resenting the human as holder of Aeryn's heart. The man was not easily fooled, and it would not be a simple matter to gain his trust, if ever. Yet despite their rivalry Crichton’s bizarre suggestions had saved him more than once. This certainly was not just in deference to Aeryn, but came from a strange sense of honor. Too bad Talyn didn't trust Crichton; he would be a great source of emotional information for the youth, maybe even teaching him self-control and patience. But there was always risk that Talyn might also pick up the human's tendency toward wild ideas and insane heroics, something Crais refused to risk since his plans were already well of his original course.

Crais had to admit, though, that Crichton in one aspect he’d read the former captain quite well.

'Weather changes…and we just keep making the same mistakes.'

Crais settled deeper into the covers. The bleedback was nearly gone now that Talyn was calmer, regaining his strength and confidence. Though many of his plans were fading, Crais wasn’t ready to admit a need to make adjustments. He still had a measure of control over both Talyn and Aeryn.

He was certain there was still time.

Crais grinned to himself, and dozed off.
oblivion7
Hoo-man... Lost in Space
 
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