• The new B5TV.COM is here. We've replaced our 16 year old software with flashy new XenForo install. Registration is open again. Password resets will work again. More info here.

Titans II

Fanfic now lives in this forum after the demise of its previous home.

Should be an interesting mix

"You know I? I rather like this GOD fellow. He's very theatrical you know, a pestilence here, a plague there... Omnipotence, Got to get me some of that, Hmmm?" - Stewie (Family Guy)
(Taking some liberties with the structure of the lab room. -C)


Keller, in utter blackness, swears.

Aw, shit.

She pushes on, moving on her hands and knees, through the dark Ishnu tunnels. Occasionally, she comes to an intersection, and a beam of light comes from somewhere, illuminating her darting eyes for one spare moment before she pulls back against the wall - like hell she's going to allow herself to be caught. Sweating and covered with blood - Kaheel's, and her own - she takes a breath and begins to move again when all is dark. She comes to an intersection, moves tentatively out into the darkness to test the waters, decide where she could go.

Leaning forward, she touches something wet. When the light comes around again, she lifts her hand. Green Calderan blood.


A noise sounds. It's like the soft knell of a funeral bell. And then, a roaring noise. We've heard this before - it's the sound of a Vai moving down the tunnels. At top speed. Keller doesn't know what it is, but something tells her to dive - and dive she does, back into the tunnel at which she came. She shuts her eyes for a moment, curling herself into a ball, stuffing her body into the darkest part of the tunnel.

The Vai speeds by.

And slows.

Keller attempts to stifle her breathing - she takes a breath and holds it. Doesn't move, doesn't make a sound, doesn't even breathe.

A blackness reaches back into the intersection - a blackness darker than the tunnel's darkness, a blackness that moves with the viscosity of blood. It spreads into the intersection, and into Keller's section of the tunnel. She clambers back. It moves forward. Back again, she moves. And it advances. She moves back.

And then, there's another inhuman scream.

It's the scream of a sentient being. The darkness dissapates abruptly, and the roaring of the Vai resumes again. The tunnel reverberates. They know something alien is here.

Keller scrambles forward, dives through the intersection. She has to get out of here, and get out of here now.

The blackness moves behind her. It nearly grabs at her toes. Keller can't believe herself that she's moving so fast. But she has to get away - has to get away - can't let it get her - but, look - ahead of her, there's a chance, a green light, a -

Coming up in front of her is a hole in the floor of the tunnel. Green light pours out of it like an inviting Christmas party - and right now, she'd do anything to get away from the blackness, to save her skin.

She tumbles through it headfirst.


Keller tumbles into an empty, strange-looking chamber. The ceiling is high, so she has enough time to throw her head underneath her body, flip, and land crouched, fairly well.

It's a large, cavernous room reminiscent of Daly's most recent experience, whose walls are completely covered with utterly alien computer equipment, made to the specifications of Vai prehensile appendages - as she can't think of them as hands. The floor - dark, smooth, metal - is interrupted every few feet by inset glass circles, through which harsh light pours, creating cones of light on the ceiling and a number of strange shadows on Keller's face.

She makes it to the wall. Looking at the computers, she runs her hands over it, but can't understand a thing.

The interface - ah - I can't tell -

This is a control room, she realizes. A control room for whatever unholy operations go on in a nearby room.

She notices something, then, out of the corner of her eye. Crouching down at the edge of the nearest glass circle, she notices there's something under it.

It's the top of a tank. Inside, a broken, emaciated, nearly-dead Calderan form floats. A Calderan woman. Chellah.

And directly beyond her, helplessly staring into the tank - Kaheel.

KELLER (looking around, urgently whispering)
Kaheel! Kaheel!

channe@[url="http://cryoterrace.tripod.com"]cryoterrace[/url] | "Last one to kill a bad guy buys the beer." -lost in space
INT. ISHNU LAB - continued:


KELLER angles toward Kaheel, who stares transfixed at the figure batting against the side of the tank. He does not respond immediately, but then he slowly looks toward Keller with a peculiar mixture of warmth and anguish.

For a moment, Keller believes they are alone in this chamber of horrors, when in the periphery of her vision she sees dark shapes approaching from all sides, each as silent and amorphous as a shadow without an owner. The forms creep closer.

KELLER (barely above a whisper)
Kaheel! Look... they're...

Yes, I see them Ari. They're the attendants. My.... wife. She has inadventently.. given away our position. My apologies.

Kaheel's tone is so controlled and formal that Keller half expects to see him holding a snifter of brandy. He takes no defensive action; instead Keller moves in close to him and holds up her Calderan blood-stained hands - a talisman against evil.

KAHEEL (softly)
I'm actually glad you're here, Ari. I'm afraid I have a duty to perform, and it is only appropriate that I have a witness for this for the... ceremony. I don't believe our.. guests will appreciate it.

Kaheel, I don't understand.

Vajel ne tagh. Su inte ra nu so tishe vana pej, Chellah.

Kaheel reaches down with all of his strength and pulls a thick bunching of wires out of the control panel. The wound sputters sparks and spits thick black fluid like a severed artery. The power systems of the tank begins to shut down, oxygenation ceases, and the lights grow dim.

Vajel, ne tagh. Go in peace, my love.

Chellah taps the glass only once. Despite her madness she understands - death at last. Her ruined face conveys serenity.

Kaheel smiles. A single errant tear creases his cheek.

Kaheel, I'm so sorry.. KAHEEL!

In a fit of rage the Vai attendants launch themselves at Keller and Kaheel. Fierce claws extended, they lunge for the kill.

"Draal gave Zathras list of things not to say.
This was one. No.... *tsk tsk*
No. Not good.
Not supposed to mention... "one", or... THE one.
You never heard that."

[This message has been edited by B5_Obsessed (edited February 22, 2002).]

Henderson - continued directly from above, a light-filled being - seems to snap into some sort of lucidity all of a sudden. The alien mannerisms gone, she looks around, crouches, and rolls to the side.

Immediately there are attendants everywhere. As she stands, straightens, all she can do is draw on her hand-to-hand training. Even though these attendants don't seem to have hands.

I can wake up from this bad dream any time now.

The attendants move forward. They've encircled her.

When I find out what you've done to me -

When they're close enough, the attendants pounce.

Henderson's hand touches one. It fights - and dies in her arms, almost without any trouble.

The attendants scream in anger and converge on her position.

With a yell of defiance, Henderson dissappears into a sea of blackness.

And then. Light breaks through. Unholy light. Henderson's arm, shining through. She throws them off. One by one, throws them off. Dead. Thump. Thump. Dead, dead, dead.

With a purpose, she climbs out of the pile of dead attendants, moving to the computer port on the side of the room.

Didn't complete the rest of the transformation, did you. It's not over. It's -

She places her hand on it, instinctively - and then corrects the hand position. It's not meant for humans, but there's obviously something moving behind her eyes.


She crosses the room, back to the platform. With a few fevered motions at the platform's control panel, she sets something in motion.

The platform begins to rise as Henderson climbs up on it.

She closes her eyes, and swallows.

And if I die before I wake -

But she's gone, lost in - light.

channe@[url="http://cryoterrace.tripod.com"]cryoterrace[/url] | "Last one to kill a bad guy buys the beer." -lost in space

Keller whirls around at the sound of the voice from behind. Kaheel glances casually.

The Vai attendants freeze where they are and perfectly still, except for their ragged breathing. The need to kill the intruders is palpable, seething hatred comes off of them in waves.

Reluctantly, they open a path between the intruders and their savior. As the black and disfigured creatures part, Kaheel sees him first. A large man, a Calderan in his early 20s, dressed in a neatly appointed black tunic which stretches over his muscular frame. By all accounts he appears to be a normal and healthy Calderan, save one exception - his eyes.

His eyes blaze with an eerie discomforting luminescence like Keller had never seen before and hopes never to see again.

His voice booms, "WHO ARE YOU?"

"Draal gave Zathras list of things not to say.
This was one. No.... *tsk tsk*
No. Not good.
Not supposed to mention... "one", or... THE one.
You never heard that."

[This message has been edited by B5_Obsessed (edited February 23, 2002).]
I don't see you posting, Obsessed. /ubbthreads/images/icons/smile.gif *ducks*

Ok, here's what happened. I ALWAYS mean it when I say "I'll post tomorrow." I always mean it. But I am NEVER going to say it again, because I swear it's a jinx.

1. Something big went down at work. Something big. The time I had allotted for Titans was spent writing press releases and ad copy.

2. My other job had three days straight filled with tutoring appointments. There went that time.

3. Midterms. Need I say more?

4. I'm on vacation now and have been away from access all week. I write you from a warmer place than normal... and am loving every minute of it.

Now. To satiate your desires, I will NEVER say "I'll post tomorrow" EVER again.

And if I were doing this kind of thing for a real-life job, you'd bet your caboodles I'd be on it as fast as possible. But, I can only dream at this point... /ubbthreads/images/icons/smile.gif



Pain. Light. Pain. Suffering. Rending. Tearing. Shearing. Death. Life. Pain. Pain. Pain.


And then nothing.

Bedraggled, a human form picks itself up from a circular platform. We recognize it as being the one Henderson climbed up to three minutes before.

It's Henderson. Her hair is the original brown. Her skin is the original color. As she picks herself up, shoulders heaving, a cry escaping from a hoarse throat, we find that the only thing different is her eyes.

Vai eyes.

Papa, I -

She stops short, when she realizes where she is.



As before - The Old Man holding the gun, pointed at Chenei, with Daly and Downey dragging her cautiously back towards the entrance.

The camera zooms in very quickly on the Old Man. Something electric crosses his mind - he's just been informed of something - and he immediately looks towards the west wall of the chamber.

Get her.

Daly, ever the opportunist, takes this moment to move. He nods to Downey, and the two of them push Chenei towards the door. The Vai servants, black creatures all, move quickly, but Daly, for his age, is even quicker. Underneath a black-clad limb, through two others. He reaches the door.

It's locked.

Chenei screams.


Henderson climbs down from the platform and looks at the bodies of the Vai servants. The almost-helpless look immediately dissappears, transformed into a victorious sneer.

Ah, my brothers.

She kicks aside a dead body.

Ah, the humanity.

Almost flippant.

Do you hear me, Papa? Do you hear me?
Readers -

You're probably wondering where the story went.

I'm incredibly busy; as many of you have noticed, my own post count everywhere else has decreased radically.

The story is *not* over; it will return quick-like, as soon as I get this twenty-page paper done (or any of the other authors return from their own sabbaticals). So, hold your horses. You *will* know who the Old Man is.


If anybody's even still out there... *wide grin* /ubbthreads/images/icons/wink.gif
Seeing as I'm unemployed until July 18th... how much reading can you handle? /ubbthreads/images/icons/wink.gif

*folds her hands, cracks her fingers, wiggles them* I've been able to take a few months off of this story to rethink it. I'm gonna go from the beginning.

I can't promise JMS-quality. I'm young, green, and entirely too full of myself and my own abilities.

But it'll be a lot of fun.
<blockquote><font class="small">Quote:</font><hr> I can't promise JMS-quality. I'm young, green, and entirely too full of myself and my own abilities. <hr></blockquote>

If you're green ... who's purple? /ubbthreads/images/icons/grin.gif

Latest posts

Members online

No members online now.