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crack_van2007-09-28 11:17 pm
carenejeans.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2007-09-28 11:17 pm
Entry tags:
The Secret War, by Keerawa (PG)
Fandom: Highlander
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
keerawa
Author Website: Fiction index on LJ
Why this must be read:
A sequel to Keerawa's The Price of Interference, this gen story winds in and around Season 4, adding a layer of intrigue to the Watcher story between the death of Horton and Joe's ordeal before the Tribunal in "Judgment Day." Joe and Methos set up their own underground group among the Watchers to fight the Hunters organized by a Horton follower named Narath Ung -- and to preserve the original purpose of the Watchers. Their plans are complicated by other things: Methos meets Alexa and steals the Methuselah Stone in a failed attempt to save her, Duncan takes the dark quickening. The ending leads right back into canon, and will probably send you to your DVD shelves to get out your Season 4 box and rewatch the final two episodes.
For myself, the best thing about the story is the pleasure of seeing it played out from Joe's point of view. It's told completely through his journals (off the books, of course), and Keerawa captures his voice so well I could almost hear Joe Dawson reading the journal entries.
I particularly liked this bit:
Methos stretched to his full height, filling the tiny office with his presence. "You see, I’ve been down that road you’re on, all the way to its bloody end. And I’m betting you won’t like where it takes you."
I caught a glimpse of someone else in his eyes. It wasn’t the Adam Pierson I knew, or any version of Methos I’d seen before. It was someone who lived immersed in blood and vengeance like a deep cold ocean beyond the reach of the sun. I didn’t move a muscle. Methos stared down at me with a vicious twist to his lips.
"Of course, I could be wrong. You might enjoy it. That’s what makes the game such fun." In an evil purr he added, "Maybe there’s more of your brother James in you than any of us guessed."
Weakly, in my head, I thought, ‘You son of a bitch’. But I didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. 'Cause, in a way, I had been enjoying it. I'd wanted those Hunters dead with a pure, burning focus like nothing I'd felt in my life. And that scary guy in Methos's eyes? He looked just a little familiar.
Methos took a final step closer, leaning over me, casting a shadow like a hawk diving for its prey. He took a ragged, gasping breath. Then he tugged his stiletto out of the desktop, tucked it in his cuff, and walked out the door.
I sat trembling at my desk. So that’s what 5,000 year-old wisdom looks like. Imagine fucking up so spectacularly that for the rest of your Immortal life, all you have to do is let folks see a glimpse of it to scare them straight. Damn.
This was supposed to be about saving people from the Hunters, not killing them. I looked at the half-encoded message on my desk, ordering the death of seven men and women. Christ. I ripped up the message. Next I quickly coded a stand-down message, sent it out to all my teams. This had to stop.
Then I stood up. It’s wasn’t easy – I’d been sitting at that desk for over 9 hours. But I stood up, walked over to the bulletin board, and tore down the list of Hunter dead. I reached for the list of my own people, hesitated. Finally I folded it with respect, like a flag at a vet’s funeral, and tucked it in my shirt pocket.
What next? Nothing. I checked my watch. It was Friday afternoon. I decided to head upstairs for a shower and a nap. Maybe tonight I would get to Church. Light some candles. And thank God for Methos.
The Secret War
Author on LJ:
keerawaAuthor Website: Fiction index on LJ
Why this must be read:
A sequel to Keerawa's The Price of Interference, this gen story winds in and around Season 4, adding a layer of intrigue to the Watcher story between the death of Horton and Joe's ordeal before the Tribunal in "Judgment Day." Joe and Methos set up their own underground group among the Watchers to fight the Hunters organized by a Horton follower named Narath Ung -- and to preserve the original purpose of the Watchers. Their plans are complicated by other things: Methos meets Alexa and steals the Methuselah Stone in a failed attempt to save her, Duncan takes the dark quickening. The ending leads right back into canon, and will probably send you to your DVD shelves to get out your Season 4 box and rewatch the final two episodes.
For myself, the best thing about the story is the pleasure of seeing it played out from Joe's point of view. It's told completely through his journals (off the books, of course), and Keerawa captures his voice so well I could almost hear Joe Dawson reading the journal entries.
I particularly liked this bit:
Methos stretched to his full height, filling the tiny office with his presence. "You see, I’ve been down that road you’re on, all the way to its bloody end. And I’m betting you won’t like where it takes you."
I caught a glimpse of someone else in his eyes. It wasn’t the Adam Pierson I knew, or any version of Methos I’d seen before. It was someone who lived immersed in blood and vengeance like a deep cold ocean beyond the reach of the sun. I didn’t move a muscle. Methos stared down at me with a vicious twist to his lips.
"Of course, I could be wrong. You might enjoy it. That’s what makes the game such fun." In an evil purr he added, "Maybe there’s more of your brother James in you than any of us guessed."
Weakly, in my head, I thought, ‘You son of a bitch’. But I didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. 'Cause, in a way, I had been enjoying it. I'd wanted those Hunters dead with a pure, burning focus like nothing I'd felt in my life. And that scary guy in Methos's eyes? He looked just a little familiar.
Methos took a final step closer, leaning over me, casting a shadow like a hawk diving for its prey. He took a ragged, gasping breath. Then he tugged his stiletto out of the desktop, tucked it in his cuff, and walked out the door.
I sat trembling at my desk. So that’s what 5,000 year-old wisdom looks like. Imagine fucking up so spectacularly that for the rest of your Immortal life, all you have to do is let folks see a glimpse of it to scare them straight. Damn.
This was supposed to be about saving people from the Hunters, not killing them. I looked at the half-encoded message on my desk, ordering the death of seven men and women. Christ. I ripped up the message. Next I quickly coded a stand-down message, sent it out to all my teams. This had to stop.
Then I stood up. It’s wasn’t easy – I’d been sitting at that desk for over 9 hours. But I stood up, walked over to the bulletin board, and tore down the list of Hunter dead. I reached for the list of my own people, hesitated. Finally I folded it with respect, like a flag at a vet’s funeral, and tucked it in my shirt pocket.
What next? Nothing. I checked my watch. It was Friday afternoon. I decided to head upstairs for a shower and a nap. Maybe tonight I would get to Church. Light some candles. And thank God for Methos.
The Secret War