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Entry tags:
Big Bang Fic: Master Post/Prologue, BSG/Babylon Five, Wheel Turns
Title: Wheel Turns
Author: ALC Punk!
Artist:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ivanolix
Type: gen, friendship, mythology is buggered, vaguely shippy, action/adventure, you did WHAT to that plotline?, character death, Sci-Fi/Fantasy, telepathy is weird, nanites are your bffs.
Word Count: Just over 50,000
Rating: PG13/R
Characters/Pairings: *deep breath* (holy frak) Kara Thrace/Sam Anders, Ellen Tigh(/Saul Tigh), Boomer, Athena/Helo, Susan Ivanova, Delenn, Londo Mollari, G'Kar, Lyta Alexander, Felix Gaeta/Louis Hoshi, D'Anna Biers, various Cylons, Leoben Conoy, Tory Foster, Caprica, Lee Adama and Tom Zarek that one time, Cavil, Fours, Fives, Ones, Mr. Morden, Kosh, Giana O'Neill... I think that's almost everyone? Some random OCs, too. And for a shippy Kara/Sam shipper, it's not very shippy. Well, mostly.
Warnings violence, telepathy, adult situations, strong language, character death
Summary: Ellen Tigh once answered the question What do you want? the repercussions are still being felt, the colonial fleet is about to discover they're not alone in the universe, and Babylon Five is going to have to pick up the pieces.
Takes place: Post-season three of B5, and nearly-the-end-of-Revelations for BSG
Notes: I don't even know if I like this sucker anymore, but it is DONE, and thank all that is holy for that. I would like to thankbluediamond421 for tirelessly poking and asking "where are you now", and Jes, the B-52s, Janelle Monae and Lady Gaga for editing support.
Also, eee, I have art. <3 It is behind the cut.
Link to fic master post:
Link to art master post: http://i188.photobucket.com/albums/z253/MerryKK/BSG/wheelturnsbanner.jpg
BSG Big Bang: Wheel Turns
"No one knows the shape of that future, or where it will take us. We only know that it is always born in pain." - G'Kar, Z'Ha'Dum
PROLOGUE
In her dreams, Ellen sometimes remembered things she had no understanding of. Encounters that made little sense, wishes made in an instant of forgetfulness, fires raging and wars never fought. Even on New Caprica, she sometimes woke with a sense of loss.
"Hello, Ellen."
The man was younger than her, the type she liked to pick up in bars, just to annoy Saul. He should have been leaning against the wall with that sort of sardonic look in his blue eyes. Blond, but not fake. Ellen flashed him a slight smile. "Well, hello, and what's your name?"
He smiled back, and tilted his head towards her. "I'm Aust. If you could have anything in the universe, what would it be?"
Ellen almost answered glibly, but there was something about him, something that cried out for the truth. She looked away, focusing on the horizon. There were fires, the forests burning, lighting up the night sky brighter than the noonday sun. The smell of wood smoke was distant, but still seemed to catch at her throat. This was what war had wrought upon her people, faction stacked against faction until the outcome was inevitable.
She was watching the end of her world, and he was asking trivialities.
"I want us to survive, I want resurrection to work." Two things, but they were equally as important. With resurrection, her people would survive.
Perhaps it was the right answer. He touched her shoulder, murmured, "As you wish," and was gone as suddenly as he'd appeared.
Two thousand years later, Ellen would still regret her response, though, disconnected from her memories, she wouldn't understand why.
-=-
Waking up in a tank, her memories flooding back, Ellen wondered if Saul killing her hadn't been some sort of justice, for the things she'd done. Dying on New Caprica had never been a plan, but then, dying at all seemed specious.
She blinked back tears and let the centurion help her out, shivering a little in the cold air.
The dream that had flashed through her mind as she woke boded ill for the future, and she wondered why she'd thought of it. The memories crowded again, bringing back that taste of desperation that she'd thought she was over.
After her wish had been made, the fighting had gotten worse. Ellen and Tory had managed, barely, to get the resurrection equipment online. There hadn't been time to tell the others, had barely been time to get Saul and Sam and Galen--even then, Galen had nearly died, the insurgents having taken the building. They were destroying everything, room by room.
The sirens told them how little time they had, that the bombs the protectorate had threatened were being used. Soon, their world would be nothing more than molten chaos. All their work for nothing as the world fell down around their ears.
A nuclear winter to replace the conflagrations of summer. Ellen's mouth twisted a little at that, as she remembered finally finding Saul.
"We're safe," she'd started to say before the world exploded around them.
In the rubble, feeling the pain from her legs, from her hand where it was crushed, feeling the blood slowly soaking her hair, she looked up at Saul and promised him it would all be ok.
Over his shoulder, she'd seen Aust looking over them, something pleased in his expression; in that instant, she had known.
Her words had caused all of this. How, she didn't know--there were wild theories swirling around in the tabloids, even then, of secret government projects, of powers that the people in power refused to share. Alien spacecraft, and men who could walk through walls. Ellen had always discounted all of them, even if the story of twins in stasis was always a little too close to the truth of resurrection.
Her memories contained that knowledge as they uploaded to her new body. She didn't tell the others during their journey, but one night, sitting with John, as he learned about life and reality, she told him that sometimes, parents had to make hard choices.
Sometimes, they made the wrong ones.
Waiting for him as she crouched in front of the resurrection tank, Ellen wondered if she had caused all of this. Did I not love you enough? but it wasn't something she could ask him. After all, it would be arrogant to think she had that sort of power over the universe.
-=-
The days passed monotonously slow. Ellen had given up trying to escape: too many centurions were on John's side, and Boomer was still twisted around his little finger. She sometimes almost hated Boomer and the way she gave in to everything John said. But sometimes, Ellen would see something in her eyes, some desperate flicker of life, and it made her wonder.
John had always been good with programming. He'd managed to suppress all of their memories, to wipe the slate clean and leave them empty shells of their former selves. How much easier would it have been with one of his siblings?
Just the idea made Ellen's skin crawl.
There were days when he visited, if only to gloat. Days when he ranted and talked of supernovas and the delinquencies of the flesh and a dozen things that made him hate being flesh and blood. Sometimes, Ellen tried to reach him. It wasn't something she wanted to do--well, part of her did. Part of her hated him for what he had done, how he'd twisted the gift of his life into this perversion.
But a part of her felt guilt at her own complicity in giving him life (she never wanted to regret giving life to someone, but there were times she couldn't help it).
He'd caused the destruction of the colonies, the near-genocide of humanity out of pique because she'd loved his brother more.
The door opened, pulling her from her thoughts, and Ellen found her breath stopping and her skin growing cold as she saw who accompanied John into her cell. He was a different man, with a different face and dark hair, but it didn't matter. She could still see him underneath. Her breath choked her for a moment, a wave of loathing washing over her before she managed to get herself under control. Behind him came Boomer, moving like an automaton, a tray with drinks in her hands.
"Hello, Ellen," the man said, his smile stretching as he looked her over, approvingly. "I'm not sure if you remember my associates. I'm Mr. Morden."
"I remember," she replied, her voice tight with the tension in her skin.
"Yes, I rather thought you might. Did you enjoy our solution to your problem?"
Ellen laughed, the sound ugly, and slowly stood, accepting the glass Boomer handed her. "Did I enjoy the destruction of our planet? The loss of everything we held dear? No, as a matter of fact, I didn't."
"Now, Ellen," John said, his tone chiding her. "Don't upset our guest. He's been most helpful over the last few years."
"Helpful?" Her eyebrows went up, and she looked at John, several thoughts clashing together, "Don't tell me you've been asking his advice and following it. Even you aren't that stupid."
"Remember, you did so first." With a slight smile, John lowered himself into a chair and lounged, looking up at her. "Come now, mother. Aren't you proud of what Morden's allies have accomplished? Soon, the entire fleet will be nothing more than scattered atoms on solar winds."
"How poetic. But at what cost, John? Morden's allies might give, but they also take."
"Yes, I know. I particularly like that bit where your wish ended your planet." He gestured in amusement, then sipped from his own glass. "Now, my wish--or rather, wishes, because once you've wished once it's so hard to go back--was simple, at first. I just wanted humanity eradicated."
"And we have started on that," acknowledged Morden, "My associates, unfortunately, are over-burdened. So it's taking more time than we'd like. But we are about to spring a final trap. I don't think you'll be hearing from the Galactica again."
Boomer snorted, "Humans are like roaches, Mr. Morden. How can you be sure they won't just come back?"
"They might. If they do, we have other plans in place." He spread his arms, not spilling a drop of his over-full drink. "We plan very far in advance, you see." His eyes slid over Ellen again, and she shivered in disgust. "They're about to find their precious Earth."
She didn't want to think about the implications of his words. Not yet, at least. "John," she said, her voice sweet and syrupy, "What will you do when you no longer have humanity to rail against?"
His face darkened and he glared, as though her very words were an affront. "I don't think that should concern you, mother. After all, you started us on this road."
"Yes." Her gaze slid to Boomer, and Ellen wondered if she would ever convince the other woman that it was in her best interests to flee. Boomer's anger still ran deep, though. Ellen wasn't going to count on her. Not yet. Not until she'd managed to work out how John controlled her. Bitterly, she wondered if she should simply ask Morden for help.
It wasn't as though he could make the situation worse. She wondered again where Morden and his friends came from. Before the insurgency, there had been rumors about aliens. But Ellen had never been one to believe in tabloids. Then again, perhaps if she had... perhaps nothing.
"You know what they say about the road to hell," Morden paused at their blank looks. "It's paved with good intentions."
- END PROLOGUE -
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
(end)
Author: ALC Punk!
Artist:
ivanolixType: gen, friendship, mythology is buggered, vaguely shippy, action/adventure, you did WHAT to that plotline?, character death, Sci-Fi/Fantasy, telepathy is weird, nanites are your bffs.
Word Count: Just over 50,000
Rating: PG13/R
Characters/Pairings: *deep breath* (holy frak) Kara Thrace/Sam Anders, Ellen Tigh(/Saul Tigh), Boomer, Athena/Helo, Susan Ivanova, Delenn, Londo Mollari, G'Kar, Lyta Alexander, Felix Gaeta/Louis Hoshi, D'Anna Biers, various Cylons, Leoben Conoy, Tory Foster, Caprica, Lee Adama and Tom Zarek that one time, Cavil, Fours, Fives, Ones, Mr. Morden, Kosh, Giana O'Neill... I think that's almost everyone? Some random OCs, too. And for a shippy Kara/Sam shipper, it's not very shippy. Well, mostly.
Warnings violence, telepathy, adult situations, strong language, character death
Summary: Ellen Tigh once answered the question What do you want? the repercussions are still being felt, the colonial fleet is about to discover they're not alone in the universe, and Babylon Five is going to have to pick up the pieces.
Takes place: Post-season three of B5, and nearly-the-end-of-Revelations for BSG
Notes: I don't even know if I like this sucker anymore, but it is DONE, and thank all that is holy for that. I would like to thank
bluediamond421 for tirelessly poking and asking "where are you now", and Jes, the B-52s, Janelle Monae and Lady Gaga for editing support. Also, eee, I have art. <3 It is behind the cut.
Link to fic master post:
Link to art master post: http://i188.photobucket.com/albums/z253/MerryKK/BSG/wheelturnsbanner.jpg
BSG Big Bang: Wheel Turns
"No one knows the shape of that future, or where it will take us. We only know that it is always born in pain." - G'Kar, Z'Ha'Dum
PROLOGUE
In her dreams, Ellen sometimes remembered things she had no understanding of. Encounters that made little sense, wishes made in an instant of forgetfulness, fires raging and wars never fought. Even on New Caprica, she sometimes woke with a sense of loss.
"Hello, Ellen."
The man was younger than her, the type she liked to pick up in bars, just to annoy Saul. He should have been leaning against the wall with that sort of sardonic look in his blue eyes. Blond, but not fake. Ellen flashed him a slight smile. "Well, hello, and what's your name?"
He smiled back, and tilted his head towards her. "I'm Aust. If you could have anything in the universe, what would it be?"
Ellen almost answered glibly, but there was something about him, something that cried out for the truth. She looked away, focusing on the horizon. There were fires, the forests burning, lighting up the night sky brighter than the noonday sun. The smell of wood smoke was distant, but still seemed to catch at her throat. This was what war had wrought upon her people, faction stacked against faction until the outcome was inevitable.
She was watching the end of her world, and he was asking trivialities.
"I want us to survive, I want resurrection to work." Two things, but they were equally as important. With resurrection, her people would survive.
Perhaps it was the right answer. He touched her shoulder, murmured, "As you wish," and was gone as suddenly as he'd appeared.
Two thousand years later, Ellen would still regret her response, though, disconnected from her memories, she wouldn't understand why.
-=-
Waking up in a tank, her memories flooding back, Ellen wondered if Saul killing her hadn't been some sort of justice, for the things she'd done. Dying on New Caprica had never been a plan, but then, dying at all seemed specious.
She blinked back tears and let the centurion help her out, shivering a little in the cold air.
The dream that had flashed through her mind as she woke boded ill for the future, and she wondered why she'd thought of it. The memories crowded again, bringing back that taste of desperation that she'd thought she was over.
After her wish had been made, the fighting had gotten worse. Ellen and Tory had managed, barely, to get the resurrection equipment online. There hadn't been time to tell the others, had barely been time to get Saul and Sam and Galen--even then, Galen had nearly died, the insurgents having taken the building. They were destroying everything, room by room.
The sirens told them how little time they had, that the bombs the protectorate had threatened were being used. Soon, their world would be nothing more than molten chaos. All their work for nothing as the world fell down around their ears.
A nuclear winter to replace the conflagrations of summer. Ellen's mouth twisted a little at that, as she remembered finally finding Saul.
"We're safe," she'd started to say before the world exploded around them.
In the rubble, feeling the pain from her legs, from her hand where it was crushed, feeling the blood slowly soaking her hair, she looked up at Saul and promised him it would all be ok.
Over his shoulder, she'd seen Aust looking over them, something pleased in his expression; in that instant, she had known.
Her words had caused all of this. How, she didn't know--there were wild theories swirling around in the tabloids, even then, of secret government projects, of powers that the people in power refused to share. Alien spacecraft, and men who could walk through walls. Ellen had always discounted all of them, even if the story of twins in stasis was always a little too close to the truth of resurrection.
Her memories contained that knowledge as they uploaded to her new body. She didn't tell the others during their journey, but one night, sitting with John, as he learned about life and reality, she told him that sometimes, parents had to make hard choices.
Sometimes, they made the wrong ones.
Waiting for him as she crouched in front of the resurrection tank, Ellen wondered if she had caused all of this. Did I not love you enough? but it wasn't something she could ask him. After all, it would be arrogant to think she had that sort of power over the universe.
-=-
The days passed monotonously slow. Ellen had given up trying to escape: too many centurions were on John's side, and Boomer was still twisted around his little finger. She sometimes almost hated Boomer and the way she gave in to everything John said. But sometimes, Ellen would see something in her eyes, some desperate flicker of life, and it made her wonder.
John had always been good with programming. He'd managed to suppress all of their memories, to wipe the slate clean and leave them empty shells of their former selves. How much easier would it have been with one of his siblings?
Just the idea made Ellen's skin crawl.
There were days when he visited, if only to gloat. Days when he ranted and talked of supernovas and the delinquencies of the flesh and a dozen things that made him hate being flesh and blood. Sometimes, Ellen tried to reach him. It wasn't something she wanted to do--well, part of her did. Part of her hated him for what he had done, how he'd twisted the gift of his life into this perversion.
But a part of her felt guilt at her own complicity in giving him life (she never wanted to regret giving life to someone, but there were times she couldn't help it).
He'd caused the destruction of the colonies, the near-genocide of humanity out of pique because she'd loved his brother more.
The door opened, pulling her from her thoughts, and Ellen found her breath stopping and her skin growing cold as she saw who accompanied John into her cell. He was a different man, with a different face and dark hair, but it didn't matter. She could still see him underneath. Her breath choked her for a moment, a wave of loathing washing over her before she managed to get herself under control. Behind him came Boomer, moving like an automaton, a tray with drinks in her hands.
"Hello, Ellen," the man said, his smile stretching as he looked her over, approvingly. "I'm not sure if you remember my associates. I'm Mr. Morden."
"I remember," she replied, her voice tight with the tension in her skin.
"Yes, I rather thought you might. Did you enjoy our solution to your problem?"
Ellen laughed, the sound ugly, and slowly stood, accepting the glass Boomer handed her. "Did I enjoy the destruction of our planet? The loss of everything we held dear? No, as a matter of fact, I didn't."
"Now, Ellen," John said, his tone chiding her. "Don't upset our guest. He's been most helpful over the last few years."
"Helpful?" Her eyebrows went up, and she looked at John, several thoughts clashing together, "Don't tell me you've been asking his advice and following it. Even you aren't that stupid."
"Remember, you did so first." With a slight smile, John lowered himself into a chair and lounged, looking up at her. "Come now, mother. Aren't you proud of what Morden's allies have accomplished? Soon, the entire fleet will be nothing more than scattered atoms on solar winds."
"How poetic. But at what cost, John? Morden's allies might give, but they also take."
"Yes, I know. I particularly like that bit where your wish ended your planet." He gestured in amusement, then sipped from his own glass. "Now, my wish--or rather, wishes, because once you've wished once it's so hard to go back--was simple, at first. I just wanted humanity eradicated."
"And we have started on that," acknowledged Morden, "My associates, unfortunately, are over-burdened. So it's taking more time than we'd like. But we are about to spring a final trap. I don't think you'll be hearing from the Galactica again."
Boomer snorted, "Humans are like roaches, Mr. Morden. How can you be sure they won't just come back?"
"They might. If they do, we have other plans in place." He spread his arms, not spilling a drop of his over-full drink. "We plan very far in advance, you see." His eyes slid over Ellen again, and she shivered in disgust. "They're about to find their precious Earth."
She didn't want to think about the implications of his words. Not yet, at least. "John," she said, her voice sweet and syrupy, "What will you do when you no longer have humanity to rail against?"
His face darkened and he glared, as though her very words were an affront. "I don't think that should concern you, mother. After all, you started us on this road."
"Yes." Her gaze slid to Boomer, and Ellen wondered if she would ever convince the other woman that it was in her best interests to flee. Boomer's anger still ran deep, though. Ellen wasn't going to count on her. Not yet. Not until she'd managed to work out how John controlled her. Bitterly, she wondered if she should simply ask Morden for help.
It wasn't as though he could make the situation worse. She wondered again where Morden and his friends came from. Before the insurgency, there had been rumors about aliens. But Ellen had never been one to believe in tabloids. Then again, perhaps if she had... perhaps nothing.
"You know what they say about the road to hell," Morden paused at their blank looks. "It's paved with good intentions."
- END PROLOGUE -
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
(end)