crossover ficlet: Blake's 7/BSG
BSG/Blake's 7, based sort of on the manip I did the other day. 300 words, set during season three. (though I have neither a Six nor a Servalan icon to post with. pity)
"Humanity's children." The voice was rusty with emotion, clogged with something indefinable.
President Servalan peered at the woman sitting on her bed. She was familiar, but that wasn't her worry. "How did you get in here?" A name teased at the edge of her brain while she glared. Force of personality was usually fairly effective against rebels and their ilk.
Though if push came to shove, there was a pistol in her boot. Being a high-ranking member of the Federation came with its perks and difficulties. Servalan was used to being a target, though the assassins were usually less well-kept and easier to spot.
Caprica. That was the name she'd said earlier, when they'd been introduced. Some sort of new technician, Servalan hadn't paid much attention to her.
"I'm here with a message," Caprica wasn't moving, her gaze fixed somewhere over Servalan's shoulder. "Your Federation will destroy itself, the cycle will begin again. It won't be us that does it, this time. Humanity is going to cause its own downfall."
She could call security. The call button by the door would bring the guards down the hall running. Servalan wasn't sure why she didn't. "How will it happen?"
"They always ask that--you always ask that." A smile and then Caprica was on her feet, almost gliding across the floor. "Something dark is coming, President Servalan. Something darker than your tribunals and drugged populations." She stopped, out of reach, looking distant again. "I only hope you're ready."
"How--" Servalan blinked.
Caprica was gone, the only sign of her appearance a faint taste of lilacs in the air.
For a time, Servalan stared at the spot she'd occupied, then she let a slight smile play across her lips. If someone wanted to play a game with her, this had been a most interesting opening gambit. Perhaps it would play out well in her favor.
Perhaps not.
"Humanity's children." The voice was rusty with emotion, clogged with something indefinable.
President Servalan peered at the woman sitting on her bed. She was familiar, but that wasn't her worry. "How did you get in here?" A name teased at the edge of her brain while she glared. Force of personality was usually fairly effective against rebels and their ilk.
Though if push came to shove, there was a pistol in her boot. Being a high-ranking member of the Federation came with its perks and difficulties. Servalan was used to being a target, though the assassins were usually less well-kept and easier to spot.
Caprica. That was the name she'd said earlier, when they'd been introduced. Some sort of new technician, Servalan hadn't paid much attention to her.
"I'm here with a message," Caprica wasn't moving, her gaze fixed somewhere over Servalan's shoulder. "Your Federation will destroy itself, the cycle will begin again. It won't be us that does it, this time. Humanity is going to cause its own downfall."
She could call security. The call button by the door would bring the guards down the hall running. Servalan wasn't sure why she didn't. "How will it happen?"
"They always ask that--you always ask that." A smile and then Caprica was on her feet, almost gliding across the floor. "Something dark is coming, President Servalan. Something darker than your tribunals and drugged populations." She stopped, out of reach, looking distant again. "I only hope you're ready."
"How--" Servalan blinked.
Caprica was gone, the only sign of her appearance a faint taste of lilacs in the air.
For a time, Servalan stared at the spot she'd occupied, then she let a slight smile play across her lips. If someone wanted to play a game with her, this had been a most interesting opening gambit. Perhaps it would play out well in her favor.
Perhaps not.