| History Repeats |
[Jul. 13th, 2004|12:51 pm] |
"Increase the extraction level."
The chair spins again, and Crais's head spins. He is dizzy not only from the physical motion and pain, but from the sickening sense of déjà vu. All he can think off is the last time he was here. A different room, a different leather-clad assistant, perhaps even a different physical device, but it's still the same place inside his head, over and over. Scorpius stands here as before, impassive and remote, the only element that has true significance.
The repetiton is all that his mind will focus on through the blur of images and his own screams. Crais is even beginning to wonder if he ever left, if everything in between has been a pain-induced hallucination.
"Sir?" Braca's voice, from somewhere far away, and the machine slows and stops. Crais isn't glad. The intervals between the pain are filled with a dread that is almost worse than the agony.
"Yes, captain?"
For a moment, Crais thinks Scorpius is talking to him, although he would not answer even if he could still form words. But no – he's not a captain any longer. He isn't anything any longer except a prisoner in a chair.
"I was only wondering how long your intended to – investigate Crais for. Surely now that you have Crichton, he is unimportant?"
Braca must be itching to put him on trial, Crais realizes, to hold him up to a set of rules Crais never truly believed in and find him wanting. He wonders what method of punishment Braca has decided to inflict on him.
"Have patience," Scorpius says, "I will place him in your custody as soon as I have extracted the information I need. There is an interesting blank spot in his memory – it seems that the destruction of the Leviathan hybrid precipitated him into another universe. I find that … interesting. He does not consciously recall the details, but I believe the Aurora Chair will break through the barriers in his mind eventually."
Scorpius is looking for some kind of link between Leviathans and wormholes – Crais should have known. Scorpius sees everything in terms of frelling wormholes, of which Crais knows little, and cares even less.
"For now, however, you may have the guards take him back to his cell. We may continue this tomorrow."
Anonymous hands unstrap him and lift him out of the chair. On the way in, Crais kicked and struggled although it wouldn't do him any good. He feels the impulse to do it again, although even he isn't sure what it is he wants to fight against now.
***
It's had to measure time in a cell, but by Crais's estimate roughly twelve arns pass between the time the guards throw him inside and the time the door opens again. Nobody brings him anything to eat – they have been starving him for days. Prisoners who are to take another turn in the Aurora Chair are usually subjected to such treatment, since Scorpius dislikes having the upholstery soiled.
Crais simply waits for the time to go by before the next torture session, contemplating ways to die.
It seems that Scorpius has this effect on him; both times before when he has decided to simply give up he has been under the half-breed's influence. The first time, he had lost his Command Carrier, his status, the respect of his troops, the sanctity of his memories. Death seemed both inevitable and inviting. Yet an opportunity for escape presented itself, in the unlikely form of Rygel, and he found himself struggling for life once more.
The time after that … is best forgotten. His fury at the futility of Talyn's death is too much to contemplate.
This time, he has no room to maneuver. He could have ended things easily enough in the days when he sat aboard that ship he no longer controlled, waiting to be court-marshaled and executed, but he had lacked the will. Last time, he had the will but fate had other plans. Now …
He can see the security cameras from here, no doubt they are watching him to make sure that he does not attempt to hang himself. The guards must be under orders not to hurt him too badly, even when he struggles.
No. He will not die until Scorpius and Braca want him to die, and that could be days or even monens from now. He knows that Scorpius tortured the Banik for cycles out of idle curiosity, and perhaps the same thing will happen to him. The gap in his memory is something he has resisted examining, but he knows that it is an empty place, devoid of useful information. This will not stop Scorpius from probing it until long after he drives Crais mad.
When the door cracks open, he forces himself into a sitting position, wishing to maintain that much control of himself, only to almost fall back again in surprise when he sees who it is.
"Bialar," Larell says. "Are you -?" she cuts herself off.
"Have you come to gloat?" he manages to croak. He's sure that she isn't meant to be here, but a tech of her abilities is more than capable of interfering with the security cameras.
She crouches down in front of him, and reaches into her jacket to withdraw a pulse pistol, expression unreadable. "No." A wave of relief washes over him. She's going to kill him. He would thank the gods his parents used to worship, had he ever believed in them. "I came to let you go."
Now he is truly surprised – and not so relieved. "I don't understand. Why would you –"
"He put me in his chair too, Bialar. Or did you forget? Nobody deserves such a fate. Not even you." Her face is grim, but there is something else in her eyes.
"The last time we met, you betrayed me to him."
She looks away, refusing to meet his gaze. "I have no loyalty to him, but … you betrayed me first. I thought that meant that you deserved to be betrayed in return."
Perhaps it is even true. He treated her appallingly in the days after Tauvo died; no wonder she was eager to turn him in to her new commanding officer, especially after he coerced her.
Not knowing how to respond, to thank her or berate her or apologise, he takes the pulse pistol from her unresisting hand. There is freedom here, of a sort, freedom he has been eager for, but –
It is probably what Scorpius expects of him, by now. There is no way out of this situation that he can see, other than this. And yet … Scorpius might be frustrated by the loss of his subject, but Braca, Captain Braca would be pleased. That alone is enough reason to keep breathing for now.
"I can't do much," Larell warns him. "I will let you out of here, but I won't risk my career or my life any further than that. Is there anyone here who will help you? I have enough rank to escort you elsewhere without anyone questioning me, if we're careful."
Aeryn has betrayed him, and Crichton as well, for reasons he doesn't want to contemplate. Crichton will submit to her wishes even so. There is only one place he can possibly turn for aid, only one person he can possibly trust.
"Take me to Teeg," he says.
The chances that they will make it out of here alive are almost non-existent, but perhaps he will be able to cause Scorpius more trouble before he dies. The thought drags Crais to his feet and out of the door. |
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| What's better: democracy or monarchy? |
[Apr. 27th, 2004|01:13 pm] |
Both of them are alien systems of government to me, and I cannot say that I would wish to live with either.
I lived under a military dictatorship for most of my life, and I believe that the Peacekeepers were oppressive, corrupt and unfit to command a large part of the galaxy. Yet I cannot believe that a monarchy - such as that which the Scarrans have - is any better. To put someone in command of others merely because their ancestors were in command seems abhorrent to me – it is the same philosophy that sees Peacekeeper recruits ill-treated by those born into the service.
As for democracy, it seems an unwieldy and ridiculous system – how can a commander make a decision in a crisis if he is forever forced to cater to the whims of those below him? How could the populace be trusted to vote for a fit commander at all, when so many of them are fools?
Now I fall under the jurisdiction of no government, which is how I would prefer things to remain. I had little patience with politics when I was forced to pay attention to it, and I have none now. |
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| Rescue Mission |
[Apr. 24th, 2004|03:47 pm] |
I have spent the past week gathering a suitable crew to travel through the wormhole into my native part of the universe. Finding willing candidates for the currency offered did not prove as difficult as I had feared. I suspect that many of those travelling with us are criminals or outcasts of one kind or another, but that is little concern of mine if they will follow my command. It is strange to stand on a command deck and see members of many different species around me; I only hope that this does not disconcert Teeg too much.
I have decided to ignore the babble of that irritating human journalist, although I appreciate Teeg's comments on her strange communications. I fail to see why I should have any sexual interest in Londo Mollari or John Crichton, but I comprehend less why anyone would care if I did. Interspecies relationships do not seem to be censured here as they are among Peacekeepers. I have far more important things to concern me.
The ship is now prepared to begin our journey, if John Crichton and Lieutenant Teeg are ready to depart. I do not know when we will return, but if we survive, we will have Aeryn Sun with us. |
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| Rescue Mission |
[Apr. 18th, 2004|12:47 pm] |
I thought, even when I encountered Stark once again, that I had left my past behind me. Now I suspect that it will never truly go away. It seems that there is some kind of connection between the part of the universe in which I was born, and this reality, as I have discovered ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) john__crichton working on the station. It has been strange enough living among humans who assume that I am one of them, but to encounter another at once so out of place and far more at home than I was a strange experience.
He does not have Aeryn Sun with him.
The story he told me still seems incredible, and I do not yet know all the details, but the only important thing is that she has been captured by Scorpius, and must be saved. He and I have set aside our many differences and will do our best to return to the Uncharted Territories and find her.
londo_mollari has offered me the use of his ship in this endevour. When I found out that he knew of Crichton's presence and had not informed me, I was angry enough to strike him and leave his employ forever, but his generosity ... I owe him too much already, and yet I find myself willing to owe him more.
The ship will require a crew, and I have procured some advertising space here on the station. It is to be hoped that a few will be brave enough to journey with us. |
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| Update |
[Apr. 11th, 2004|08:23 pm] |
I was hoping for a quiet stay on Centauri Prime while my ship was repaired, and at first it seemed that I would get one. The ship is almost in full working order again, and I have had some refitting done at the same time. Purple Splendour is no longer an entirely appropriate name for - I shall have to think of another one.
It seems that in my absence some excitement has occurred on Babylon 5 at the social gathering I was invited to. The first I heard of this was when I was accosted by somebody called a 'journalist' asking about my employer's sexual practices. I seem to remember Crichton mentioning the press during his endless inane babbling. Peacekeepers have only carefully edited propaganda, suitable for inspiring the troops. It always used to make my teeth ache, but now I see that this 'free press' is more annoying still.
I refused to answer any questions on the subject. I know nothing about londo_mollari's associations with this Narn person. Nor do I care to know. The society here has none of the overwhelming taboos on interspecies relationships of the one that I was raised in, so I fail to see why anyone would find such information useful or interesting.
Then the journalist claimed to have interviewed one of the Splendour's former crew about our journey here, suggested that I was unfit to command a star ship, and pointed a device at me. Once I had siezed and destroyed it, she claimed that it was merely a tool for capturing images, not a weapon. She then complained that someone else had already broken one this week. I commend whoever did so on their good sense.
The world I have found myself in is very different from the one I left, and not all of the changes are for the better. I will remember to avoid such people as these journalists in future, or to break their 'cameras' faster. |
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| What is the most important decision you've made in your life, and why? |
[Apr. 11th, 2004|10:59 am] |
When I look back on my life, it seems as if I have made few decisions. Each choice I have taken, no matter how ill-advised it seemed later, was made in circumstances where the other choices seemed worse.
I chose to strive for sucess within an empire I hated, but the alternative was being unable to protect myself and my brother. I chose to throw away all I had gained in an attempt to avenge his death, but all I had gained was worthless without him. I chose to desert the Peacekeepers altogether, but the alternative was painful death. I chose to steal Talyn away from his mother and her crew, but the alternative was imprisonment by enemies who would soon have no reason to keep me alive. I chose to sacrifice my own life and Talyn's to stop Scorpius, but the alternative was a life I no longer wanted, and wormholes in the hands of someone who might have destroyed the universe with them.
Yet I can identify one moment where the path my life has taken could have taken another turn.
I had been pursuing the stolen ship that contained the escaped prisoners, an irreversibly contaminated deserter and the man I believed responsible for my brother's death for some time when the order to return to Peacekeeper territory arrived. Command had decided that the retrival of one Leviathan and five fugatives from justice was not worth tying up a Command Carrier any longer.
I was going to do as I had done for many cycles - swallow my rage and follow orders. I don't know what would have happened to me if I had - I am not certain how long I could have gone on doing what they told me, without the incentive of protecting Tauvo. Still, that is what I planned to do.
Then Maldis ripped my mind from my body and brought it to the side of my enemy.
Seeing him again, being offered the chance to kill him with my own hands, was too great a temptation to resist. I persisted even when he explained what had happened. I knew then - perhaps I had known from the beginning - that John crichton was innocent, not responsible for the accident, but the knowledge was immaterial. I would kill John Crichton, or he would kill me, and either way I would rest.
By the time I was returned to my body, I knew what I must do. Eventually Command would catch up with me, but there were few Peacekeepers in the Uncharted Territories. I would have time to kill Crichton. The only obstacle between me and my revenge was the only other person who knew my orders - Leiutenant Teeg.
Teeg was one of the few who served under me that I respected. She was an efficient and competant assistant, and she always knew when silence was appropriate. I thought, for a fraction of a microt, that if I explained the situation to her she might allow me to do what needed to be done ... but she was a Peacekeeper, born and bred. She could not have comprehended the pull of blood ties. And so I killed her.
I do not know if that was the most important decision I have ever made, but it felt like a decision. If I had not killed Teeg, if I had followed my orders, I might still be a Peacekeeper today. Whatever has happened since I am glad that I no longer serve them. But I wish that I could have seen another path to follow then. |
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| How do you handle confrontation? |
[Apr. 10th, 2004|09:21 pm] |
Forcefully.
I have a temper which is not always under my control, although I admit that I have often unleashed it deliberately on those under my command. The imminent threat of demotion is a strong incentive to the swift and efficient execution of orders.
Other kinds of confrontation are not always best resolved by threats or violence; yet often I find myself using them anyway.
There have been occasions where it would have been better for me to use reason than force. Moments when I have felt as if I was watching myself from outside, knowing that I should remain calm but unable to prevent myself from acting instead of thinking. My bond with Talyn enhanced such feelings; the sensation of being overwhelmed by the neural link was not unlike the sensation of giving in to rage.
Still, for all the trouble they have brought me, a pulse pistol and raised voice have also solved many problems. |
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| If you could change one moment in your past, what would it be? |
[Apr. 10th, 2004|08:50 pm] |
A question that is no question at all: I would change the moment when the Peacekeeper Recruiters came for my brother and I. I would make it so they never came to our colony at all.
It is not difficult to imagine the broad outline of what our lives would have been like, if we had been left in peace. A quiet existance of farming, shared with partners and children. Sometimes I add details to the outline - what kind of herds I would have kept, how I would have planted an orchard on the family property, how many nieces I would have had.
I suppose that if they had not chosen us the recruiters would have stolen someone else. Our fate is not one I would wish on any child, but to spare Tauvo his eventual end there is nothing I would not do, no-one I would not sacrifice. |
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| Report |
[Mar. 23rd, 2004|05:09 pm] |
I am glad to report that we are soon to arrive on Centauri Prime, having sustained only minimal damage to the ship. The crew seem fractious for reasons I fail to understand, given how well we survived our encounter with the enemy vessal. We sustained no casualties and only a few minor injuries caused largely by people falling during the battle. But perhaps I should begin at the beginning.
The jump gate we were using is not one frequented by many ships, being some distance from the planet itself. We had chosen it for that reason, since it provided our best chance of arriving at our destination quietly. This was no longer a possibility.
I spent the remainder of our journey through hyperspace recalibrating the jump port generator. Fixing the engine had given me considerable insight into the workings of Centauri technology, and the changes I wished to make were simple. The only obstacles were the objections of the crew member manning it, and I soon gave him a new understanding of the chain of command.
Once we had grown close to the jump gate, I asked xena_princess to supervise the weapons consoles on the upper deck while I remained stationed at the jump port engine in central command. We emerged from the gate to find what I had expected: another Centauri cruiser, guns ready to fire on us as soon as we left the shelter of hyperspace.
One of the pilots asked me if we should take evasive action, and once again I needed to explain the concept of following orders, and the consequences of a failure to obey. (I am not sure if this is a problem with Centauri crews in general, or if they disliked being put under the command of an alien captain. I experienced similar problems when given my first command, since it is rare for a recruit to obtain rank among the Peacekeepers.)
Having fully established command, I ordered the crew to fly straight toward the other ship while firing on their engines.
I was concerned that there might be further disciplinary problems, but the crew obeyed my orders to the letter, and we were fortunate to approach the ship having sustained only a few direct hits and negligible damage. I had worried that they might try to evade our attack, but they seemed surprised by the maneuver and by the time they realized how close I intended to get it was too late – we had destroyed one of their engines. (Centauri cruisers are robust, but not particularly fast, especially when turning. I have been contemplating ways to improve this.)
This alone would not have assured us victory – at close quarters neither ship had an advantage over the other, and the destruction of one could easily have caused the destruction of the other. However, I had realized not long after I arrived in this part of the galaxy that warriors here have access to a weapon Peacekeepers only dream of, although they seem strangely reluctant to use it.
The alteration I had made to the jump port generator put the opening in to hyperspace I created in the approximate position of their command deck.
I would have liked to move it further, but the generator was designed to generate a breach as close the front of our ship as possible to make travel easier and safer, rather than for use as an offensive weapon. The effect was not truly comparable to that of a wormhole, for despite their resemblance the gates and ports that allow people in this corner of the universe to travel there are not true wormholes. The results were not instantaneous, which fortunately gave us an opportunity to move our ship out of the immediate vicinity.
I deduced from the incoherent explanation of the crew later on that this tactic has been attempted before with poor results. Apparently it has resulted in explosions far more spectacular than the one we witnessed, which left no trace of the cruiser and sprayed its debris across large distances. The fireball that resulted did some more minor damage to our hull.
We will need to make some repairs upon Centauri Prime, but I consider the mission a success. I have managed to teach londo_mollari's enemies that it is unwise to cross him, and my passengers will be delivered unharmed.
(OOC: For people who don't know Crais well enough to translate: when he says 'explain the concept of following orders' he means 'shout a lot and threaten the poor pilot with instant demotion and possible exile' and when he says 'minor damage' he means 'the hull is now a blackened, dented wreck with dubious structural integrity.' He has a way with words.) |
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| New Information |
[Mar. 21st, 2004|09:16 pm] |
Thanks to the assistance of londo_mollari I have now decoded the data crystal found on our saboteur. As I had already guessed, this revealled that there will be a hostile ship waiting for us on the other side of the jump gate we planned to use to reach Centauri Prime. From what I have read, the ship's specifications are a rough match for those of this ship; an even match.
I suspect that the Purple Splendour is more of a target than my passengers - there are other bodyguards (although I suspect not many of them are as competent as Xena) but Londo Mollari does not have an infinite supply of ships. To deprive him of this vessel would be a serious blow. Therefore, I shall ensure that both ship and cargo reach their destination safely.
Our energy supplies being somewhat depleted after drifting in hyperspace with only one functioning engine, making a jump point of our own would leave us drained and vulnerable. Still, we could leave hyperspace and wait for reinforcements, away from immediate trouble trouble.
I think I have a better idea. If we use the jump gate as planned, there will be enough power available to run the ship's offensive capabilities, at least for long enough to accomplish what I have in mind. It is always advantageous to teach your enemies a lesson where possible.
I wonder if Xena knows how to fire the energy weapons aboard? From what I have seen, they are much the same as those I am familiar with. There are only so many ways to build a pulse canon, no matter where you are in the universe.
OOC: Alright, so I lied. No boom today. xena_princess, would you like to stand next to a weapons console, or shall I take it from here? I can wrap this whole journey up in another post or two. |
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| Current Events |
[Mar. 20th, 2004|10:04 pm] |
I gather after reading communications from londo_mollari that things have been uncomfortably interesting on Babylon 5 of late. Here it is quiet, if you don't count the occasional whimpering from the pathetic creature who sabotaged our engines. (I was, I admit, slightly disappointed that he broke so easily under the ministrations of xena_pricess. Interogating him would have been satisfying revenge for what he did to my ship.)
It is much too quiet.
Any soldier who has been on campaign knows the feeling - the sensation that any microt, the situation is about to explode. It took me some time to get us back on course after repairing the engine, but at the moment we are making good time. Our prisoner has not revealled anything useful, except that the remainder of his instructions are on the data crystal he had with him. He was meant to receive the decryption key via a transmission some time ago, but no contact has been made. Perhaps his allies somehow realised that he had been captured and abandoned him to his fate. I think that he is frightened enough of Xena that he would have told us anything he knew.
For now, there is little to do but head for Centauri Prime with all due speed and keep our eyes open for trouble.
OOC: No boom today. Boom tomorrow *g*. And then onward to Centauri Prime. |
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| If you had to lose one of your senses, which would be the worst and why? |
[Mar. 20th, 2004|05:52 pm] |
After being blinded temporarily, I know that sight is the sense I would be least able to live without. Being blind left me vulnerable, a sensation I dislike intensely. I've sometimes thought that hearing is more annoying than useful, since having it has forced me to listen to incompetent commanders and moronic underlings, not to mention a wide variety of irritating aliens. Smell and taste are sometimes pleasant to have, but hardly necessary to existence. Touch is something I have learned to live without.
I think, however, that I would exchange even my sight to experience the senses of a Leviathan again. When I was first bonded to Talyn, I spent most of the time with a raging headache as my brain attempted to adapt to the interface, and later the cybernetic bleedback left me in other kinds of pain. Sharing the thousands of unique sensations a Leviathan feels at every moment was still the most remarkable experience of my life. Seeing the world through his eyes was worth the pain, and it would be worth the loss of my own senses. |
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| What's your favourite daydream and why? |
[Mar. 20th, 2004|05:35 pm] |
I do not enjoy imagining what things might have been like had I made different choices; it only makes me regret the choices that I made more. When such thoughts come to me unbidden, I imagine that Tauvo is still alive, that Talyn grew up into the strong and sane warrior I always wanted him to be.
I often wish that I had shown enough common sense and self-control to realise that Talyn was wrong when he said that we did not need Aeryn Sun, just after he joined himself to me. I believe that she would have stayed with us if we hadn't rejected her in the first selfish moment of our unity, and that might have changed things for the better.
Sometimes I even imagine that all three of them are alive and with me. Tauvo free from Peacekeeper influence, my bond with Talyn no longer a burden but a joy, and Aeryn ... sometimes the last desire seems the least likely to come true.
I was brought up to believe (by my parents as well as my trainers) that wishing for things to be different is senseless. Yet it seems to be an impulse present in most sentient beings, and difficult to stamp out. |
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| What do you want on your tombstone - and why? |
[Mar. 20th, 2004|04:52 pm] |
I had to check what a 'tombstone' was before I could answer this - the farming community I was born into burned its dead, and Peacekeepers jettison them into space. Memorials to the dead are not common in any Sebeacen culture I am aware of - like belief in an afterlife, it is something we abandoned some time ago. I do not think that anyone will place a stone over my corpse when I finally die.
If you had asked me how I wished to be remembered ... once, I thought I would go down in history as the first conscript to become an admiral, or as the sponsor of the Leviathan hybrid project. After I deserted, I imagined myself an infamous outlaw, famed for renouncing my background and destroying the ship I had formally commanded.
Now, I do not know if anyone will remember me at all. Perhaps that is better. |
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| One Answer For Two Questions |
[Mar. 20th, 2004|04:30 pm] |
What makes you laugh?
If you could have dinner with any figure in history, who would it be and why?
The answer to both questions is the same: my brother.
We used to dine together often after I managed to get him assigned to my Command Carrier. We had seen each other only rarely in the years before then - Peacekeepers have limited controll over their movements - and before I finally had him aboard my ship I was worried that he did not wished for my presence as I had wished for his. He was very young when the recruiters came for us, and he had adjusted to our changed circumstances far better than I.
I need not have worried, at least about that. Tauvo could be happy anywhere, and he made me happy, too. I recall him joking that he only came to my quarters because captains got the best food, or ... the memories do not make me laugh now. Very little does.
There is nothing that I would not give to have him returned to me, were such things possible. |
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| OOC |
[Mar. 19th, 2004|09:08 pm] |
Just a short note to explain why I've been so quiet and am suddenly spamming everyone on Crais's friends list to death *g*. Those of you who know me in my mun identity already know that I've been looking for a flat recently, but I'll spare the rest of you my whining about the process and skip to the part where I've now found one.
I've been writing responses to various challenges, but I didn't want to post anything until I was back on deck and available for roleplaying. Ten thousand apologies for the ridiculous delays, but the whole thing took longer than I thought it would, and RL has sucked of late in various other ways I don't even want to get into. I have more answers to post, but I'll save them for tomorrow so as not to take up any more of your friends lists this evening.
I hope there will also be roleplaying tomorrow. And I promise to warn you before I actually move house *g*. |
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| How did you lose your virginity? |
[Mar. 19th, 2004|08:58 pm] |
I do not remember.
Peacekeepers attach little importance to recreation of a sexual nature, considering it a triviality primarily useful for relaxing the troops and filling the ranks. I don't think I was more than twelve or thirteen cycles old when I first sought pleasure with my fellow recruits.
There are sexual experiences I recall far better - the first time a senior officer demanded my presence in their quarters, the first time I had enough rank to do the same to an underling. The first time I shared my bed with Darinta Larell. The first time I brought myself to break the contamination taboo that had been drilled into me since I was eight ... all of those were more important to me. |
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| Which is more important--self-preservation or forgiveness? |
[Mar. 19th, 2004|08:46 pm] |
Much of the time, I have little desire for the former. I don't believe that I deserve the latter, and I don't know who I would ask for it if I thought that I did.
The question seems pointless. |
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| Do you believe in love at first sight? |
[Mar. 19th, 2004|08:42 pm] |
I had poured much of my time and energy into Talyn's creation cycles before he came to exist - far more than I ever devoted to an assigned mating. Perhaps I should not have been surprised that I developed an emotional attachment to him as soon as I stepped aboard and stood on his command deck. I thought he was the most beautiful ship I'd ever seen, a marvel that far exceeded my expectations for a Leviathan hybrid.
I realise, now, that it would probably have been better for everyone had he never existed. The beauty that I once saw in his destructive capabilities eventually came to horrify me. Still, when I think back to that moment I cannot regret his creation completely. I thought, then, that I had managed to create one thing during my life that was worth making. |
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| If you were left on a desert island, what three things would you take along? |
[Mar. 19th, 2004|06:48 pm] |
Some form of transportation or a communicator would seem sensible choices, but I have a feeling that this is a human game that I don't understand. Perhaps simply bringing a way to get off the island constitutes breaking the rules.
I have never set much store by material possessions. I did not have many as a child, and Peacekeepers are not meant to form attachments to objects any more than they are meant to form attachments to people. Promotion brought some luxuries, but I did not regret abandoning everything except the clothes I was wearing when I left the command carrier. (No, that is not quite true. One of the few things I do miss about my former life is the bath in my captain's quarters. There was never room for one aboard Talyn.)
If trapped alone in a hostile environment, I would bring a knife. They never misfire like guns, and they have more than one purpose. Field rations, which unlike food cubes will keep indefinitely without refrigeration. I believe that I would not need more than that to survive. |
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