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crack_van2004-09-27 11:49 pm
simplystars.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2004-09-27 11:49 pm
Dreams Deferred by Kerlin (R)
Fandom: FARSCAPE
Pairing: ensemble cast
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kerlin
Author Website: http://kerlin.midnight-graffiti.com/
Why this must be read:
Some fics read like an episode, others as a novel whose genesis might have been an episode. The world Kerlin builds in Dreams Deferred reminds me of Alan Dean Foster's Splinter of the Mind's Eye... thick jungle, caves and an element of claustrophobia, and an alien race that is well fleshed-out. Action/adventure and angst combine to set just the right pace for this pleasantly lengthy fic. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll hold your breath... but you'll never be bored.
"Well, it's been a few arns now and you still haven't caught us. What kind of commandos are making it through boot camp these days, huh? I'm disappointed." Crichton's tone was mocking and hard, and he was standing so rigidly he looked as if he might sprain a muscle by the sheer force of his posture. His grip tightened and relaxed on Winona, a compulsive kneading of the weapon's rigid exterior. "This is the last time I'm going to make it easy for you. We're on the forest floor, Peacekeepers. Come and get us." He dropped the comm onto a flat stone and crushed it under his heel. There was no sense in keeping it active to provide an even easier beacon for the commandos to zero in on. They were now blind.
Aeryn almost opened her mouth to tell Crichton that they would need to move as fast and as far as possible, but realized that he already understood that. Instead, she focused on logistics. "It's too dark to see anything. We're going to have to stay very closely together. Using a light would lead them right to us much faster than we want them to be."
He nodded, and slid the chakkan oil cartridge in and out of Winona in a nervous gesture. With the snick of the cartridge sliding home, however, another sound echoed - louder and very close to them.
Aeryn immediately dropped into a crouch, pulse pistol trained in the direction the noise had come from, and John aimed Winona warily. Both were primed for an attack, but none came.
"Rabbit or something," Crichton said, his voice shaking slightly as he lowered Winona.
Aeryn chose not to ask what a rabbit was and focused on the more important fact of their situation. They had been awake for nearly twenty arns at this point. It seemed like cycles ago that she had woken up on Moya to a debate about stopping for food supplies. They were both tired, and the Peacekeeper commandos following them were quite likely still fresh.
There was another snap as of dry wood, from the same direction, followed by a faint trilling whistle.
"That's a Druinosi," Crichton said, and spoke for them both. He holstered his pistol and set off in the direction of the noise before Aeryn could warn him about unknown quantities and commando tricks. On the surface, she was exasperated at his risk-taking but there was a small part of her underneath that found comfort in the John Crichton she'd first met, the man who would question first and shoot later. She followed closely behind him so as not to lose sight of him completely in the pitch black.
"It's a child," Crichton said, his voice rough around the edges. "A she - and she's injured, badly. She must have fallen during the attack."
The Druinosi was a very young child, nearly a baby. She hadn't yet grown the proper musculature along her wing joints and shoulders that would one day enable her to fly, and her feathers were still nestled among soft baby down. One leg was twisted at an angle that didn't look physically possible and there was a large bump along one side of her head. The Druinosi let out one last trill and her eye rolled back into her head as she became unconscious.
Aeryn's hand almost strayed involuntarily to her stomach in sympathy but she gripped her pulse pistol tighter. "We have to do something, we have to help her."
John squinted upward, uselessly. The darkness was too pervasive to see more than a few metras, and there were no operative lights that would have at least indicated the location of a structure. "I don't know what we can do. Aeryn." He added her name almost as an afterthought, reaching out tentatively. She closed her eyes briefly against the pain of hearing his voice say her name, and then she continued, more determinedly.
"We can't just leave her here. She'll die. We'll have to take her with us." In her mind's eye, Aeryn could see the young girl on the Carrier, the girl she had been once, ambushed and beaten by her classmates. A moment's kindness on Aeryn's part had not been enough to save that girl, and Aeryn would forever remember ifs he had died when the Carrier went up in flames.
Crichton looked at her, penetratingly, but she held her ground. It would cause them untold difficulty, it would slow them down, and it might very well get them killed. But Aeryn wasn't ready to have any more deaths on her shoulders. There were so many names and faces in her. memory that no longer existed except as a wisp of thought. Her John. Xhalax. Zhaan. Crais and Talyn. Henta and the hundreds of men and women on the carrier she had worked with for so many cycles. All dead, all her fault to varying degrees. This child would not be added to that list. She set her shoulders and looked back at Crichton, really looked at him for the first time since she'd stepped down off the transport pod and had come face to face with a dead man.
She knew she had won the same way she always did. He might not be the same man she had loved, but he acted enough like him that she could still read him easily. His eyes softened and the tension in his shoulders eased slightly. "I'll carry her for now, but we'll have to make a sled or something before we go very far."
Dreams Deferred
Pairing: ensemble cast
Author on LJ:
kerlin Author Website: http://kerlin.midnight-graffiti.com/
Why this must be read:
Some fics read like an episode, others as a novel whose genesis might have been an episode. The world Kerlin builds in Dreams Deferred reminds me of Alan Dean Foster's Splinter of the Mind's Eye... thick jungle, caves and an element of claustrophobia, and an alien race that is well fleshed-out. Action/adventure and angst combine to set just the right pace for this pleasantly lengthy fic. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll hold your breath... but you'll never be bored.
"Well, it's been a few arns now and you still haven't caught us. What kind of commandos are making it through boot camp these days, huh? I'm disappointed." Crichton's tone was mocking and hard, and he was standing so rigidly he looked as if he might sprain a muscle by the sheer force of his posture. His grip tightened and relaxed on Winona, a compulsive kneading of the weapon's rigid exterior. "This is the last time I'm going to make it easy for you. We're on the forest floor, Peacekeepers. Come and get us." He dropped the comm onto a flat stone and crushed it under his heel. There was no sense in keeping it active to provide an even easier beacon for the commandos to zero in on. They were now blind.
Aeryn almost opened her mouth to tell Crichton that they would need to move as fast and as far as possible, but realized that he already understood that. Instead, she focused on logistics. "It's too dark to see anything. We're going to have to stay very closely together. Using a light would lead them right to us much faster than we want them to be."
He nodded, and slid the chakkan oil cartridge in and out of Winona in a nervous gesture. With the snick of the cartridge sliding home, however, another sound echoed - louder and very close to them.
Aeryn immediately dropped into a crouch, pulse pistol trained in the direction the noise had come from, and John aimed Winona warily. Both were primed for an attack, but none came.
"Rabbit or something," Crichton said, his voice shaking slightly as he lowered Winona.
Aeryn chose not to ask what a rabbit was and focused on the more important fact of their situation. They had been awake for nearly twenty arns at this point. It seemed like cycles ago that she had woken up on Moya to a debate about stopping for food supplies. They were both tired, and the Peacekeeper commandos following them were quite likely still fresh.
There was another snap as of dry wood, from the same direction, followed by a faint trilling whistle.
"That's a Druinosi," Crichton said, and spoke for them both. He holstered his pistol and set off in the direction of the noise before Aeryn could warn him about unknown quantities and commando tricks. On the surface, she was exasperated at his risk-taking but there was a small part of her underneath that found comfort in the John Crichton she'd first met, the man who would question first and shoot later. She followed closely behind him so as not to lose sight of him completely in the pitch black.
"It's a child," Crichton said, his voice rough around the edges. "A she - and she's injured, badly. She must have fallen during the attack."
The Druinosi was a very young child, nearly a baby. She hadn't yet grown the proper musculature along her wing joints and shoulders that would one day enable her to fly, and her feathers were still nestled among soft baby down. One leg was twisted at an angle that didn't look physically possible and there was a large bump along one side of her head. The Druinosi let out one last trill and her eye rolled back into her head as she became unconscious.
Aeryn's hand almost strayed involuntarily to her stomach in sympathy but she gripped her pulse pistol tighter. "We have to do something, we have to help her."
John squinted upward, uselessly. The darkness was too pervasive to see more than a few metras, and there were no operative lights that would have at least indicated the location of a structure. "I don't know what we can do. Aeryn." He added her name almost as an afterthought, reaching out tentatively. She closed her eyes briefly against the pain of hearing his voice say her name, and then she continued, more determinedly.
"We can't just leave her here. She'll die. We'll have to take her with us." In her mind's eye, Aeryn could see the young girl on the Carrier, the girl she had been once, ambushed and beaten by her classmates. A moment's kindness on Aeryn's part had not been enough to save that girl, and Aeryn would forever remember ifs he had died when the Carrier went up in flames.
Crichton looked at her, penetratingly, but she held her ground. It would cause them untold difficulty, it would slow them down, and it might very well get them killed. But Aeryn wasn't ready to have any more deaths on her shoulders. There were so many names and faces in her. memory that no longer existed except as a wisp of thought. Her John. Xhalax. Zhaan. Crais and Talyn. Henta and the hundreds of men and women on the carrier she had worked with for so many cycles. All dead, all her fault to varying degrees. This child would not be added to that list. She set her shoulders and looked back at Crichton, really looked at him for the first time since she'd stepped down off the transport pod and had come face to face with a dead man.
She knew she had won the same way she always did. He might not be the same man she had loved, but he acted enough like him that she could still read him easily. His eyes softened and the tension in his shoulders eased slightly. "I'll carry her for now, but we'll have to make a sled or something before we go very far."
Dreams Deferred