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13 August 2011 @ 07:53 pm
Farscape Ficlet: "Floating" (just a repost of something I wrote in 2003)  
Back in 2003 I finally succumbed to the Dark Side started journaling just a couple of weeks after [personal profile] selenak had introduced me to Farscape. So out of sheer curiosity I went back to check my old journal entries for any Farscape-related thoughts I might have posted during that period, only to find that apparently I had never shared this poor little ficlet in my journal (which is kind of odd, because up to this very day it is one of my personal favourites)


Title: Floating
Author: Bimo
Setting: S1, right after the pilot episode
Summary: How do you cope with completely alien surroundings? As long as there are miracles, there's hope...
Notes: Thanks to Selena, for introducing me to the wonderful world of Farscape, and to Kathy, for beta-reading :-)




FLOATING
by Bimo



If John listens closely enough he can hear the ship singing. Soft, low-pitched sequences of whistles and clicks, utterly alien, yet at the same time familiar; reminding him of the whale sounds he had heard once, as a thirteen-year old kid, on a family trip to Sea World Orlando.

He lets the memory of ocean panorama and ice-cream waltz through his mind, swallows, then presses his ear against one of the bronze-coloured support beams growing out of the corridor wall. Moya's noises are louder now, the metallic surface vibrant and smooth. In relation to his Farscape module the Leviathan seems like a whale compared to an eggshell. If she is really that sentient it is a good thing she floats free now with no control collar, no Peace Keepers causing her pain or holding her back. Judging from the hologram transmissions, the purple crustacean guy functions more like a mediator between ship and passengers than as an actual pilot. A somewhat grumpy, overstressed and dangerously underpaid mediator, one should add.

Later, when he joins the others for a dinner of food cubes and syrupy liquid, he finally poses the question which bothers him "So, what happens if Moya wants to go in one direction and we want to go the other?"

"Leviathans are gentle creatures, John. Their biggest wish is to serve and to fulfil a purpose. Disagreements like the one you describe only happen in times of greatest distress."

"Amen, Zhaan. Let's hope there's no such thing as Leviathan mating season and all the attractive dudes are over in Peace Keeper space."

The remark was meant humorous, a soft mockery of Zhaan's preachy attitude. He does not know why it makes Aeryn Sun's lips harden. Cultural taboo? Yet another major translator microbe screw-up?

"Leviathans don't replicate that way, Crichton", Aeryn replies coldly, finishes her last food cube and leaves. Sometimes it feels as if the only thing in the universe that could soothe her anger was the sight of his dead body being tossed out of an airlock. In her heart and her dreams she is still all Officer Sun, Special Peace Keeper Commando, Icarian Company, Pleisar Regiment. Enforce law, shoot first. No questions, no worries.

I'm sorry, Aeryn. I didn't mean things to turn out the way they did, he thinks. Carefully he searches the others' faces for any kind of reaction.

"If you are interested in learning more about Leviathans then perhaps you should pay a visit to Pilot. I'm sure he could introduce you to Moya much better than any of us."

Zhaan's suggestion appears little more than an attempt to bridge the silence but nevertheless he welcomes it. Seeking out Pilot's den and meeting new alien life doesn't sound like too bad a mission. He has got a comm badge and a voice recorder. Maybe he can even convince one of the DRDs to play his tour guide if he gets lost amongst the labyrinth of corridors and never opening doors. So he sets out humming, clinging to his curiosity like a railing. As long as there are miracles, there is hope.



This entry was originally posted at http://www.dreamwidth.org/12345.html. Comment there or here, as you like. I'd be glad to reply to your comments over on DW.
 
 
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