fic: Farscape/BSG
Disclaimer: Not mine. Rating: 13+ torture, language
Fandoms: Farscape/Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Pairings: referenced: Kara/Lee, Kara/Anders, Kara/Zak, Kara/random
SPOILERS. Farscape: Nerve/Hidden Memory (though this is technically supposed to be set after Peacekeeper Wars). BSG: Through Eye of Jupiter.
Prompt: Kara, Scorps, Last night on Earth... (this title sucks, but it's late, and I'm freezing)
Bolt of Blue
by ALC Punk!
The chair doesn't hurt, at first. It feels almost comfortable. Even with the straps holding her down and the headpiece fitted into place around her skull--her helmet is more confining, and she's used to spending hours in the cockpit, wearing it.
(He caught her in a hallway, trying to slip past the guards, not quite knowing where she was.)
"You're not exactly human, but then, you're not Sebacean, either. Intriguing."
It doesn't hurt at first.
Kara thinks of it as a game. If not Leoben, then Scorpius. Leoben, at least, has better fashion sense. Scorpius looks like a reject from some wacky dominatrix scenario--possibly from one of the bad pornos that Helo used to get to watch. Kara and Sharon would join him and end up rudely picking apart every scene until he dumped popcorn on them.
(Her mother smiling at her, drunk off her ass and so so sweet. Just one more bottle, Kara. Just one more nail in my coffin.)
Then the pain comes. Something she can't even describe--which makes it worse. Scalding water poured down her veins would feel better. She screams, she knows she does, but she can't quite hear it.
Not yet.
(--Galactica, you've got incoming!--So, how long until we get to Earth?--You have got to be kidding me--Everyone I know is fighting to get back what they had--)
"Enough."
Like a caress, his voice slithers down her spine and Kara tries to ignore it as she ignores the crawl of sweat down her back and the sour taste in her mouth.
"You're looking for Earth. Intriguing."
"Frak you." Starbuck isn't giving him an inch. He can smash her into pieces, bloody her mouth and leave her aching for solace, and he won't win.
Leoben never won, either.
She has to keep convincing herself of that.
"Somehow, I don't think I'm quite to your taste." He leans closer, sniffs at her. "But then again..."
Kara jerks her head sideways, smashing into his jaw. It hurts, but there's satisfaction in hearing him gasp in something that might be pain.
"You enjoy pain." he muses, "perhaps we can indulge you." He turns, the leather making a flapping noise, "Raise the level, segment her mind until we know everything about her."
The woman at the controls didn't even blink as her hands moved upon the switches.
(--We're not going to live to see our bright shiny future--you're afraid that you'll end up like Riley's girlfriend--you should take a look at yourself--Kacey--Are you happy to see me, really?--Lee--We got married, man. Can you believe it?--)
The images freeze, for an instant, and Kara convulses. Her back arches and her eyes shut as she tries to stop this. Because she knows what happens next, what happened before, and she doesn't need to relive it. Not for this sick freak.
A leather-clad fist smashes into her jaw, and she reels.
(--I'm coming back. There, I said it.--I can't believe I married a moron.--)
Her broken marriage spills out in lurid detail, men, women, Sam, all there for the leather-clad man to pick over. And Kara actually feels shame, watching Sam. Watching as they grow distant and he goes more and more silent. Playing pyramid was the only escape he had.
(--nice to see--just hold up in the mountains--when I say I'm gonna do something--My name is Lee Adama--I have a surprise for you, Kara--Starbuck is special--You and I both know that ninety-nine percent of the time that is the right call!--)
"Increase the power. I want to know more."
He wants all of it, she thinks. Every sordid detail of Starbuck, every lover, every mistake, every broken promise, every betrayal...
Every toaster she's sent to God.
The pain is getting steadily worse. She's half-blind, unable to even see the things the screen is showing anymore. But she can hear them, feel them, pounding through her pulse and into her veins.
(--I like it insane--He's just afraid--Lords of Kobol, hear my prayer--)
"Your gods can't help you now, my dear. Though I think it might be time for a break. Don't you?"
She doesn't even have the energy and muscle control to spit in his face when he leans over her again. All she can do is nod, and try not to cry. Starbuck doesn't cry. Ever.
"Perhaps later."
His hand drops and she arches up, coughing on her own pain.
(--Zak failed basic flight--)
No.
(--the truth is, your son--)
Zak.
"Stop."
(--walk out of here while you still can--)
The pain stops.
"Please." The word is hoarse and barely makes it past her lips, but she says it. "Let me rest."
"I think we shall, my dear. You've given me such delicious food for thought."
Kara closes her eyes and doesn't thank him as the guards move back in, unfastening her from the chair. One of them yanks her arm behind her back as she stands, and she bites her lip not to make a sound. She won't give him the satisfaction of hearing her beg for mercy. She won't give any of them a chance to think her weak--she refuses to consider that they already do, given her performance in the chair.
They drag her through featureless corridors, finally stopping in front of a door. Kara doesn't remember the way, and doesn't care, for the moment.
She can work on her escape plans, later. She just needs time to get her mind back. To put the jumble of images back where they belong. A shove in her back sends her into the room. She stumbles and lands painfully on her knees, her hands and arms aching with the strain of catching herself against the rock floor.
Behind her, the door slams closed.
Regroup. She has to regroup and remember she's Starbuck. And Starbuck doesn't frakking break--not for anyone or anything. Curling onto her side, Kara rather desperately wishes that were the whole truth.
Despite feeling as though she's been battered and bruised, she falls asleep.
-ftbc-
Fandoms: Farscape/Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Pairings: referenced: Kara/Lee, Kara/Anders, Kara/Zak, Kara/random
SPOILERS. Farscape: Nerve/Hidden Memory (though this is technically supposed to be set after Peacekeeper Wars). BSG: Through Eye of Jupiter.
Prompt: Kara, Scorps, Last night on Earth... (this title sucks, but it's late, and I'm freezing)
Bolt of Blue
by ALC Punk!
The chair doesn't hurt, at first. It feels almost comfortable. Even with the straps holding her down and the headpiece fitted into place around her skull--her helmet is more confining, and she's used to spending hours in the cockpit, wearing it.
(He caught her in a hallway, trying to slip past the guards, not quite knowing where she was.)
"You're not exactly human, but then, you're not Sebacean, either. Intriguing."
It doesn't hurt at first.
Kara thinks of it as a game. If not Leoben, then Scorpius. Leoben, at least, has better fashion sense. Scorpius looks like a reject from some wacky dominatrix scenario--possibly from one of the bad pornos that Helo used to get to watch. Kara and Sharon would join him and end up rudely picking apart every scene until he dumped popcorn on them.
(Her mother smiling at her, drunk off her ass and so so sweet. Just one more bottle, Kara. Just one more nail in my coffin.)
Then the pain comes. Something she can't even describe--which makes it worse. Scalding water poured down her veins would feel better. She screams, she knows she does, but she can't quite hear it.
Not yet.
(--Galactica, you've got incoming!--So, how long until we get to Earth?--You have got to be kidding me--Everyone I know is fighting to get back what they had--)
"Enough."
Like a caress, his voice slithers down her spine and Kara tries to ignore it as she ignores the crawl of sweat down her back and the sour taste in her mouth.
"You're looking for Earth. Intriguing."
"Frak you." Starbuck isn't giving him an inch. He can smash her into pieces, bloody her mouth and leave her aching for solace, and he won't win.
Leoben never won, either.
She has to keep convincing herself of that.
"Somehow, I don't think I'm quite to your taste." He leans closer, sniffs at her. "But then again..."
Kara jerks her head sideways, smashing into his jaw. It hurts, but there's satisfaction in hearing him gasp in something that might be pain.
"You enjoy pain." he muses, "perhaps we can indulge you." He turns, the leather making a flapping noise, "Raise the level, segment her mind until we know everything about her."
The woman at the controls didn't even blink as her hands moved upon the switches.
(--We're not going to live to see our bright shiny future--you're afraid that you'll end up like Riley's girlfriend--you should take a look at yourself--Kacey--Are you happy to see me, really?--Lee--We got married, man. Can you believe it?--)
The images freeze, for an instant, and Kara convulses. Her back arches and her eyes shut as she tries to stop this. Because she knows what happens next, what happened before, and she doesn't need to relive it. Not for this sick freak.
A leather-clad fist smashes into her jaw, and she reels.
(--I'm coming back. There, I said it.--I can't believe I married a moron.--)
Her broken marriage spills out in lurid detail, men, women, Sam, all there for the leather-clad man to pick over. And Kara actually feels shame, watching Sam. Watching as they grow distant and he goes more and more silent. Playing pyramid was the only escape he had.
(--nice to see--just hold up in the mountains--when I say I'm gonna do something--My name is Lee Adama--I have a surprise for you, Kara--Starbuck is special--You and I both know that ninety-nine percent of the time that is the right call!--)
"Increase the power. I want to know more."
He wants all of it, she thinks. Every sordid detail of Starbuck, every lover, every mistake, every broken promise, every betrayal...
Every toaster she's sent to God.
The pain is getting steadily worse. She's half-blind, unable to even see the things the screen is showing anymore. But she can hear them, feel them, pounding through her pulse and into her veins.
(--I like it insane--He's just afraid--Lords of Kobol, hear my prayer--)
"Your gods can't help you now, my dear. Though I think it might be time for a break. Don't you?"
She doesn't even have the energy and muscle control to spit in his face when he leans over her again. All she can do is nod, and try not to cry. Starbuck doesn't cry. Ever.
"Perhaps later."
His hand drops and she arches up, coughing on her own pain.
(--Zak failed basic flight--)
No.
(--the truth is, your son--)
Zak.
"Stop."
(--walk out of here while you still can--)
The pain stops.
"Please." The word is hoarse and barely makes it past her lips, but she says it. "Let me rest."
"I think we shall, my dear. You've given me such delicious food for thought."
Kara closes her eyes and doesn't thank him as the guards move back in, unfastening her from the chair. One of them yanks her arm behind her back as she stands, and she bites her lip not to make a sound. She won't give him the satisfaction of hearing her beg for mercy. She won't give any of them a chance to think her weak--she refuses to consider that they already do, given her performance in the chair.
They drag her through featureless corridors, finally stopping in front of a door. Kara doesn't remember the way, and doesn't care, for the moment.
She can work on her escape plans, later. She just needs time to get her mind back. To put the jumble of images back where they belong. A shove in her back sends her into the room. She stumbles and lands painfully on her knees, her hands and arms aching with the strain of catching herself against the rock floor.
Behind her, the door slams closed.
Regroup. She has to regroup and remember she's Starbuck. And Starbuck doesn't frakking break--not for anyone or anything. Curling onto her side, Kara rather desperately wishes that were the whole truth.
Despite feeling as though she's been battered and bruised, she falls asleep.
-ftbc-