Author's Note: This comes from a very weird dream I had a few days ago that really bugged me.
I wrote it up as an original drabble last night just to get it out, and then
adapted it to the Farscape universe. This hasn't had a beta, so all mistakes
are mine, and all feedback is welcome.
Disclaimer: Not mine. If it was we'd have a Farscape channel.
Red - my world, universe was red. Red - the color of fire pushing the distant stars even further away. Red - the color of a comrade's blood dripping from the lips of the man starving alone, sitting in orbit of the planet's only space station. His cries for help falling on the dead ears of his butchered friends. Red - from the planet's surface reflected against our faceplates as we watched it's rotation grind to a stop momentarily before continuing and once more...permanently lie still. Her twin moons the only other witnesses.
It was almost imperceptible, but still we saw - and knew what it meant.
On the surface, billions were dying from fissures that opened up beneath their feet, swallowing them whole. Tides sweeping upon shorelines destroying homes, wild life and anything it's watery hands could reach.
We stood in silence on the deck, hands hanging down to our sides; the only
sound that of our breath. Unable to do anything, we bore witness to the death
of an entire planet and the life she once carried upon her.
When we eventually fall from accident or old age...would anyone remember them? These once great people whose politicians doomed them by vying for a power that did not really exist, except only in their eyes.
We turn away, the shadows of Moya draping over us, covering us in darkness to wash away the red. Comforting us in a way only she could. Cradled within her walls, protecting us and swore to myself I would find some way to make sure no one ever forgot their mistakes.
Originally posted November 29, 2004