|Mary Lou Jensen
Joined: 27 Feb 2011
Location: Bowels of a disused space station with Hudson (shoot me now!)
|Posted: Mon Mar 07, 2011 11:06 pm Post subject: Unspoken Words
|Okay I found one of my old stories that not TOO gaggable, but remember I was about 19 when I wrote this, so its not my fault
by Susan J King
Cally stared at the hologram for a long while, childhood memories keeping her company. The broody silence of the flight deck matched her mood. It was not until Avon came up beside her that she became aware of him.
He took in the holo-picture. "Your sister?" he asked.
"Yes," Cally agreed, "my sister."
Avon took a seat next to the young telepath. "And she is....?"
"Still on Auron."
"Which is where you want to be." It was a statement not a question.
With a wistful sigh Cally slipped the picture into her pocket and spoke without meeting his gaze. "Sometimes, yes, but I know it's not possible so I try not to think of it." She looked about the flight deck, suddenly aware they were alone. "Where is everyone?"
"Where you should be," he told her, "asleep."
Cally rose with a sigh and began to pace restlessly about the room. "I couldn't." She shrugged.
"Too much on your mind?"
"That, or not enough." She looked at him. "That's my excuse, what's yours?"
Avon turned on a smile, charm oozing from him. "I could hardly leave a beautiful young woman alone on the flight deck, now could I?"
Cally slammed her fist into a console in a sudden flash of uncharacteristic anger. "Don't patronise me Avon!"
"Besides," he added, "it's my watch."
Cally glanced at him, then shook her head. Avon leant back in his seat and regarded her, amused by her reaction. He watched her stride restlessly about the flight deck, every step lithe and youthful. He knew what was wrong, he sensed the isolation in her, the longing for her own people and the reassuring comfort of pure communication.
"Do the others know how you feel?"
Cally turned on Avon, startled by the gentleness in his tones. His face was impassive.
"About what?" He reply was more crisp than she would have liked.
"Auron of course."
"No," she shook her head. "No, I don't think so. Why should they?"
Avon shrugged. "No reason, I just thought our 'noble' Tarrant knew everything." His tone was biting.
Cally turned from him, feeling very bitter. Her words reflected this bitterness.
"He's not exactly telepathic, is he?"
She felt Avon's hand on her shoulder and she looked back at him, her cat like eyes brimming with stinging tears.
A ghost of a smile hovered about Avon's lips, and he spoke quietly. "One does not always have to be telepathic to know when someone is troubled." He turned to leave. "I'm going to wake Vila. I need to get some sleep; I suggest you do the same. After all," he paused in the doorway and looked back, "life does go on."
Cally watched Avon leave, then sighed. "Does it Avon?"
The mental stresses she felt were like a physical pain in her gut, gnawing at her nerves. Life without the meeting of minds was very hard to cope with.
"What have you been saying to Cally?"
Avon's head snapped up as he entered the flight deck sometime later. He regarded Tarrant levelly.
"Why do you ask?"
Dayna spoke form her positions at the controls. "She's locked herself in her room. She doesn't answer when I call and she won't come to the intercom, so it's obvious something must have upset her."
Avon was amused. "And you immediately thought of me. How very flattering."
"You must admit," Tarrant went on, "you're not exactly renowned for your subtlety."
"As, of course, you are." Avon moved over to the couch at the front of the flight deck. He did not look at the pilot as he spoke. "It is possible that she just wants to be left alone. Even Auron's need privacy."
Before Tarrant could reply, Vila walked onto the flight deck. He was shaking his head and muttering lowly to himself. The crew just watched him as he absently walked up to his flight station. He did not seem to notice the step and tripped up it. Still he murmured on.
"What's wrong Vila?" Tarrant asked eventually.
The petty thief looked up, startled. "What?"
The pilot sighed and repeated his question. "I said, what's wrong? Have you been on the bottle again?"
Vila blinked. "Bottle? No, no, it's Cally."
Avon laughed. "Telepathy must be catching!"
Vila went on. "She came out of her room as I walked past. She was muttering to herself, she completely ignored me. Most strange."
"Why?" Dayna mocked. "We always ignore you, and you talk to yourself all the time."
"Ah yes," Avon put in with a smile, "but Cally has a little intelligence, a thing our friend Vila is lacking."
Vila gave the computer man a reproachful look. Tarrant sat himself opposite Avon then glanced back at the petty thief.
"At least she's out of her room. Did you hear what she was muttering about?"
Vila shrugged. "No, well, I'm not sure. She said something like 'go to Dentros' or 'Datros' or something. Very strange."
"Detros!" All eyes turned to Avon. His eyes had fixed on the middle distance, his voice held a cold edge.
Tarrant was curious. "You've hear of the place?"
"Perhaps!" He activated the small computer which sat on the table before him. "Orac!"
"Tell me all you know about the planet Detros." His words were crisp and sharp and the little box did not seem at all impressed.
"Very well! Though I should point out, I was not built to give history lessons."
"Just get on with it, Orac!" He sat back, broody.
"The planet Detros," the small machine stated, "is a place from old Auron legends. It was said that all people who committed a moral crime, against themselves or against the traditions of their own people, were sent to Detros to be judged and/or punished. However, since the Auriana have developed into their present state of ecology Detros and its functions have faded into the background used only, perhaps, as a warning to young, mischievous children."
"Is it possible that Detros exists?"
"Indeed, it is more than possible. Detros is a small planet at the edge of the galaxy in sector 9. Whether it is the planet of judgement or not I cannot tell you; this information is not available. Now, is that all?"
Avon snatched the activator from its position and tossed it across to Tarrant.
"And when, may I ask," Vila began, "did you become an expert on Auron legend and history?"
Avon shrugged. "Oh, one picks these things up. Besides," he regarded Vila levelly, "I am always interested in anything that may affect this ship. History has been known to repeat itself."
Cally looked up as the door slid open. Avon stared down at her for a moment, a little startled, then he looked about his room.
"If I'd known I would be having visitors I would have tidied the place up a bit. Drink?" he inquired.
Cally shook her head, her mind working on more important matters. "Avon, I must leave, I must leave the Liberator."
"Why?" he asked. "Was it something I said?"
She regarded his back. "It was understood that we could leave at anytime," she reminded.
"Those were Blake's words, not mine."
"Avon, I need to leave! I need to go to Detros!" The words caught in her throat.
Avon snapped his head around. "Why?" He moved over to crouch before her, looking straight into her clear green eyes. "Why Cally?" He shook her shoulder. "So you can be judged? Punished for what you believe you did morally wrong? Is it wrong to want to help people?"
"Is it right to kill people?"
Avon regarded her a few moments longer then straightened. He went back to fixing his drink. "We've been on route to Detros for the past thirty minutes. Zen estimates arrival in seventy nine hours." He spoke without turning.
Cally rose from her seated position and smiled at Avon's back. Her words of thanks echoed in his mind and he paused in his work. When he had turned, Cally was gone.
"You can't let her just give up like this!" Tarrant cried.
Avon turned on him. They were alone in the teleport room. "It is none of our business, Tarrant. Cally is as much of a free agent as any of us."
Tarrant stopped his pacing and glared down at Avon. "So, you are prepared to let her kill herself?" he demanded.
"I will not interfere if that is what you mean." He regarded the pilot coldly. "It is her life."
At that moment Cally entered the teleport room, Dayna and V
ila Following closely.
"Are you sure you really want to do this?" Vila was asking. "It may not be what you think it is down there."
Cally smiled. "Don't worry Vila, I know what I am doing."
"I'm glad someone around here does." He shot a sulky look at Avon then became silent.
Cally put on a teleport bracelet then turned to the computer expert. She smiled. "Thank you for bringing me Avon, it is only here I can find the answer."
Avon touched her shoulder. "Let us hope that the answer you find is the right one."
She inclined her head slightly, then stepped into the transmit area. "Teleport, Dayna."
With a reluctant glance at Avon, the dark woman complied. As Cally's figure dispersed, Vila marched over to the teleport bracelet rack and drew out a bracelet. Avon was beside him.
"I hope you know what you're getting us into Avon," he murmured.
"Just get ready Vila."
Tarrant frowned, then realised what was happening. "What happened to your thoughts on non-interference Avon?" he crowed.
"Observation," Avon pointed out, "is not interference. I mean to merely observe."
Tarrant started for the bracelet rack. "In that case, have you any objection to me observing also?"
Avon snapped around. "Yes!"
Tarrant's face began to fill with annoyance. "Avon, she has no intension of coming back from that place."
"That," Avon insisted, "is up to her. You are staying here."
"If you try to follow us, I will kill you. Is that clear?" Avon's eyes glowed like embers as he regarded the pilot.
"Avon.....!" Tarrant still protested.
"IS THAT CLEAR?"
The pilot shrank physically away, surprised by Avon's sudden, uncharacteristic outburst. "Alright, but I still......."
"Put it in writing!" With that final word Avon stepped into the transmit area.
Vila leant towards Tarrant. "I think he means it, you know."
"Yes!" Tarrant replied dryly. "I got that impression also."
When Vila had joined him, Avon turned to Dayna. "Teleport, Dayna."
As soon as the twosome had gone, Tarrant started for the bracelet rack again. Dayna's voice halted him.
"No Tarrant," she began. "You heard Avon; he'd kill you."
Tarrant glanced at her. "If he saw me."
"No Tarrant, he knows what he's doing!"
Now Tarrant turned his face full on her. "You hope!"
Dayna's gaze met his. "I know."
Cally found herself by a doorway. At first she was cautious, checking the rolling landscape about her, then she touched the door. A tingling sensation ran right through her arm and tickled her mind. She closed her eyes, probing the sensation, but it was gone.
Without hesitation she pushed the door open and stepped inside. On the side wall was an abstract pattern of lines and squares. It took a moment for her to realise it was a maze, a map of the complex she was now in. Underneath, in old Auron and in the newer, universally recognised language, was a message:
'The truth is at the centre
this is where you must come,
remember now the pattern you trod
in the dance of a single drum.'
Cally frowned. "Dance?" As she muttered the word an image came into her head; the image of a maze, a dance she'd been taught when she was at school - a dance done to the beat of a single drum.
She traced the steps as the child danced on the maze, the maze drawn on the floor or a class room. The step pattern led to the centre of the abstract painting.
From a not too distance hill Avon and Vila watched Cally enter the underground chamber. After waiting ten minutes or more, Avon got to his feet, but Vila caught his arm.
"Are you absolutely certain that I know what I am doing?" the petty thief asked.
"Helping a friend in trouble," Avon told him. "Come on."
Vila reluctantly followed Avon down the hill. "Just one thing," he called out, "do you mean Cally or yourself?"
He received no reply.
With her eyes closed Cally danced the dance in her mind. Suddenly she felt the sensation again. When she opened her eyes she saw another door. She had no knowledge of how she had reached this place, the centre of the maze. All she remembered was the dance, the drum dance.
As she reached out to touch the door it swung open. A little startled, she held back, then, hesitantly, she stepped across the threshold.
It was just a small room, an empty room, octagonal. The eight walls glistened, mother of pearl. As she walked, the sensation became stronger, until she stood in the centre of the room. Noiselessly the door closed behind her.
A presence manifested itself in her mind, encouraging her to present her case. With a sigh, Cally complied, producing visions of her time on Saurian Major with the rebels. How her friends had died and how she had sort revenge.
Now pictures of Liberator appeared, flickering across the eight mother of pearl screens; pictures of more revenge, more death.
Vila regarded the maze with an air of gloom. "I never was much good at dancing," he announced.
Avon looked the picture and verse over for a moment, then turned away.
"Let's face it Vila, you were never much good at anything." He brought out a card and a stylus. "I, however, have the added advantage of possessing a brain." With that he turned his fullest attention on the maze.
When Cally had finished her story the presence seemed to chuckle; Cally was amazed.
"Shocked?" said the voice.
"All those deaths and you laugh?"
"Most of the people had killed and would kill further if you had not prevented them."
"But have I the right to judge them?"
"As much right as any mortal. However, I was amused, not by the deaths but because not once did you show the lives you saved. All of your friends needed your help at some time. How may millions of deaths have you prevented with your skills?"
Cally shook her head; new thoughts drifted into her mind before she could prevent them. Pictures of Auron, her own people......her own death. It was the turn of the presence to express shock.
"Suicide!" it cried. "Why do you want to take your own life?"
"Life without true contact is a hard life to live," she announced. "Life without the minds of my people. I need that, I need to know I am needed, wanted, that I belong!"
The voice sounded a little short tempered, and for a moment Cally was reminded of Orac. "Needed, wanted? You know you are!"
Suddenly Dayna's face, rounded, cheerful, appeared on one of the eight walls. "This is the face of a friend. Does she not need you, your help and encouragement?"
Next came Tarrant, his smiling face framed in a mop of curls. Vila's face was next. he looked concerned. Suddenly his voice echoed in her mind.
"Cally, Cally why are you doing this?" he said. "Killing yourself only ever makes a lot of mess on the floor, it doesn't solve anything. If you die who's going to stop Avon from killing people off right, left and centre? Besides, if you do do it, he's sure to blame me!" Then the bantering was replaced with sincerity. "Cally, please don't die!"
The presence broke in. "This one is here, looking for you. These are his thoughts. Whilst I am in this chamber I have the power to transmit their thoughts." The laugh came again. "The one called Tarrant was most annoyed. He too wanted to help you."
"Avon?" The thought was there before she could block it. "Is he here?"
"Of course." An image was projected onto another mother of pearl background. "I can transmit his thoughts also."
Avon's face looked unemotional, no perhaps a touch of determination showed at he studied the miniature map he'd drawn.
His voice began to fill her mind. His thoughts of determination, fear, worry and something else, something masked, hidden.
"Let's go deeper," the presence seemed to whisper.
Suddenly an image, an image from his mind, took place on the next panel. In the thought he stood before Cally.
"Cally," he was saying, "we need you, we all need you. Your powers are useful to us. Cally......" the voice faltered then went on, "...Cally I need you," he reached out to touch her cheek. "Cally I......."
"STOP!" Cally's cry was both mental and physical. She shook her head and dropped to her knees. "Stop!"
"Why?" The presence was curious. "You did not want to hear his thoughts. Why?"
Cally looked up, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Some things are best left unspoken." She spoke again but this time with her mind only. "Who....who are you? Why are you here?"
Another image appeared on one of the walls. It smiled. "I am your sister," it said. "Your mind summoned me Cally. You see, I need you also."
Running feet could be heard in the corridor. The door burst inward and Avon rushed in, gun drawn. He looked about the empty room, alert, expecting trouble. The walls stared back at him, blank and shiny.
Vila was next in. He took one look and grunted. "Don't think much of the decor." He leant against the door frame. "When are they supposed to be moving in?"
Convinced they were alone, Avon bent down beside Cally. "Are you alright?"
With a sniff, she wiped her eyes and smiled. "Yes. I am fine. Just take me home."
Avon frowned. "To Auron?"
"No, to my friends on Liberator."
Vila decided to be hurt. "I suppose because I'm not on Liberator right now, I don't count as a friend."
Cally took Avon's helping hand and rose. "Of course you do Vila. You both do."
For a moment the Auron's gaze locked with Avon's then the computer expect turned away, bringing his expression and emotions under firm control. He spoke into his bracelet.
"Avon to Liberator. Bring us up Dayna."
"I'd love to," Dayna's voice returned, "but we can't get a fix on you; the reading's leaping from one end of the scale to the other."
"This place must be shielded," Avon muttered.
Vila grinned and linked arms with Cally. "Never mind, Cally knows the way out." There was no reply. Vila looked at her, frowning, a little worried. "You do know the way out.......don't you?"
Joined: 21 May 2004
Location: The Middle Lands
|Posted: Tue Mar 08, 2011 5:49 pm Post subject:
|I enjoyed that, very good!
I could see influences from scenes in Sarcophagus, Trial and Terminal but some original ideas too, and I thought the dialogue rang pretty true to the characters
I thought the last part was where it went off more into fanfic and was a scene probably too positive to have ever been in the TV series , but it was really quite moving and the whole story kept me reading til the end
Joined: 19 May 2004
Location: zomewhere in zyderspace
|Posted: Tue Mar 08, 2011 9:28 pm Post subject:
|Yes, I thought it was good too.
Joined: 16 May 2004
|Posted: Tue Mar 08, 2011 9:46 pm Post subject:
|Yes, I thought it was good too.
Indeed It would seem 'our' resident author, Roachy may have company
Wisdom must be gathered, it can not be given
nothing like the 1st cuppa tea in the morning.
B7 Episodes watched since January 2017 = 118
|Mary Lou Jensen
Joined: 27 Feb 2011
Location: Bowels of a disused space station with Hudson (shoot me now!)
|Posted: Tue Mar 08, 2011 10:36 pm Post subject:
|Thank you! Might be the only one that I post here, 30 years ago my spelling and grammar were enough to make a grown man cry (well, write to me and tell me that I needed to work on it any way )
BUT if you'd like to read some of my other stuff - I have some on Screentime (the old site which does have some older fiction on by other people - but PM me and I'll give you the link) and some on my Fiction site. See links for that one
You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum
You cannot vote in polls in this forum