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bit of fic before I die: Farscape/Galactica
Why is Kara on Moya? I don't know.
How did this happen? Because.
What's going to happen? I'm going to bed.
Why post this? Because if I don't, I won't finish it or something and I'd like to finish some frakking thing before I die.
"And where does that leave you?" The tones are cool, the voice cultured. The woman producing the sound isn't a woman at all, and Kara wants to say something ironic about her not being real, but finds she can't.
"Where does that leave me?"
"Yes." The woman's head tilts, blue eyes staring out of a blue face patterned in variegated blues that remind Kara of Zak's favorite flower.
Okay, she had heard the non sequitor right the first time. Kara snorts. "Where does what leave me?"
"Life." A frown, and the woman shrugs, "Clearly, you've thought about this less. Your way is not to follow your mind, but your heart. Your passion and soul. How very... Delvian of you, my dear."
"I'm not your anything."
"No." She tilts her head and smiles, the grey gown shifting as she holds out a hand, "I am Pa'u Zotah Zhaan. Welcome to Moya, child."
"I'm not a child, either."
Zhaan's eyebrows lift, and her smile tilts slightly, as if she knows something Kara doesn't know. "Perhaps."
"Where am I?" The demand is later than Kara would have liked, but the woman (alien?) distracted her too much. "I'm obviously not on Galactica..."
"As I said, you are on Moya." Impatience in the tilt of the woman's head, "Tell me, what is your name?"
Her name isn't available. But her call sign will do. It should be name, rank and serial number, Lee would have intoned. (Lee was much better at being a properly stiff officer with every regulation under his skin). "Starbuck."
"Indeed."
"Hey, Zhaan!" This voice is male, and slightly hurried, as if the man is thinking too fast and tripping over his words and feet, "Are you ready to go--" The dark-haired man skids to a halt next to Zhaan, staring at Kara. "Well, this is new. Zhaan, who's the new girl?"
"She says her name is Starbuck."
"Huh." He considers, staring at Kara, "Call sign, right?"
Kara doesn't bother answering.
The man waves a hand, "Never mind. Whatever. Look, Zhaany, where'd she come from?"
"I don't know, John."
"How can you not know?"
Zhaan snorts, her tone exasperated, "She appeared in the middle of my cell, Crichton. I rarely ask after the reason and meaning of miracles."
"Getting a new philosophy, are you?"
"Possibly." She turns and looks at Kara, "Are you hungry?"
"If you are," John says, tone dire, "I wouldn't recommend the food."
"Crichton, you really are impossible."
Bored, Kara shifts, "Are we done here?" She wants to get back to Galactica, back to sanity (if she isn't already insane).
"Yeah, sure, just don't try to kill us or something." And John turns and walks away, muttering about wormholes and strange women.
"I suspect Crichton will get over being the only human shortly."
Kara refuses to ask, moving instead to the door of the cell which slides open. "You mentioned food?"
"Yes. Come, child."
For a moment, she wants to object to being called a child again, but hunger wins out. And Starbuck swaggers down the corridor of Moya secure in the knowledge that there will be food soon.
How did this happen? Because.
What's going to happen? I'm going to bed.
Why post this? Because if I don't, I won't finish it or something and I'd like to finish some frakking thing before I die.
"And where does that leave you?" The tones are cool, the voice cultured. The woman producing the sound isn't a woman at all, and Kara wants to say something ironic about her not being real, but finds she can't.
"Where does that leave me?"
"Yes." The woman's head tilts, blue eyes staring out of a blue face patterned in variegated blues that remind Kara of Zak's favorite flower.
Okay, she had heard the non sequitor right the first time. Kara snorts. "Where does what leave me?"
"Life." A frown, and the woman shrugs, "Clearly, you've thought about this less. Your way is not to follow your mind, but your heart. Your passion and soul. How very... Delvian of you, my dear."
"I'm not your anything."
"No." She tilts her head and smiles, the grey gown shifting as she holds out a hand, "I am Pa'u Zotah Zhaan. Welcome to Moya, child."
"I'm not a child, either."
Zhaan's eyebrows lift, and her smile tilts slightly, as if she knows something Kara doesn't know. "Perhaps."
"Where am I?" The demand is later than Kara would have liked, but the woman (alien?) distracted her too much. "I'm obviously not on Galactica..."
"As I said, you are on Moya." Impatience in the tilt of the woman's head, "Tell me, what is your name?"
Her name isn't available. But her call sign will do. It should be name, rank and serial number, Lee would have intoned. (Lee was much better at being a properly stiff officer with every regulation under his skin). "Starbuck."
"Indeed."
"Hey, Zhaan!" This voice is male, and slightly hurried, as if the man is thinking too fast and tripping over his words and feet, "Are you ready to go--" The dark-haired man skids to a halt next to Zhaan, staring at Kara. "Well, this is new. Zhaan, who's the new girl?"
"She says her name is Starbuck."
"Huh." He considers, staring at Kara, "Call sign, right?"
Kara doesn't bother answering.
The man waves a hand, "Never mind. Whatever. Look, Zhaany, where'd she come from?"
"I don't know, John."
"How can you not know?"
Zhaan snorts, her tone exasperated, "She appeared in the middle of my cell, Crichton. I rarely ask after the reason and meaning of miracles."
"Getting a new philosophy, are you?"
"Possibly." She turns and looks at Kara, "Are you hungry?"
"If you are," John says, tone dire, "I wouldn't recommend the food."
"Crichton, you really are impossible."
Bored, Kara shifts, "Are we done here?" She wants to get back to Galactica, back to sanity (if she isn't already insane).
"Yeah, sure, just don't try to kill us or something." And John turns and walks away, muttering about wormholes and strange women.
"I suspect Crichton will get over being the only human shortly."
Kara refuses to ask, moving instead to the door of the cell which slides open. "You mentioned food?"
"Yes. Come, child."
For a moment, she wants to object to being called a child again, but hunger wins out. And Starbuck swaggers down the corridor of Moya secure in the knowledge that there will be food soon.
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Of course, as said elsewhere, Crichton realizing he has two insane pilots on his hands, well.... It's a good thing he's made of such stern stuff.
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