my_b7_fic: Avon karate chopping (Default)
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(390 words Gen B7 fic)

I was rather disconcerted the first time Zen tried to kill us. When I saw my brother... well, I later tried to convince myself that Zen had simply triggered some biological brain-circuitry in which I supplied my own memory. That Jenna saw her mother made it seem likely somehow it made you think of a close family member, without necessarily Zen knowing what you were thinking.

I could live with that- a simple stimulus/response defense mechanism isn't anything to take personally. But I couldn't stop thinking of Kyle. He was dead and I had to keep my mind on current issues, like not winding up dead myself. If the Federation didn't kill me, and Zen didn't kill me, I still had to keep Blake's idiotic plans from killing me.

All right, Blake is very... personable. He carries an invisible aura of certainty that tends to envelope you, smother you in emotion, blank out thought, make you believe in luck and destiny and all that rot. I convinced myself that Blake didn't actually care about anything except his crusade.

But he came to my cabin the day after we discovered how to produce fermented beverages from the food replicator, bottle cradled in one arm, and a surprisingly vulnerable and tired look on his face. I had nothing better to do, since sleeping was out of the question. Every time I closed my eyes, Kyle kept returning, in various unpleasantly gruesome images. I sometimes wish they'd told us the details... sometimes. So I let Blake in. I let him pour us drinks, which were about as noxious as you'd expect from synthetic fermented alien algae. Still, the alcohol content was high.

And I let him talk about his family. His sister and brother. He told me typical family stories, small traumas, petty arguments, little triumphs. Things they used to do as a family. Halfway through the bottle, I heard myself telling him about Kyle.

He listened, and didn't say anything stupid or demand any emotional display. When the bottle was empty, he picked it up, said good night, and left. I slept well that night.

The next day Blake was his usual annoyingly optimistic self on the flight deck, but with a good night's sleep behind me, I was better able to tolerate him. Sometimes, he doesn't really annoy me at all.


my_b7_fic: Avon karate chopping (Default)

December 2011

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