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Recent fic (mostly Babylon 5) on AO3
I reposted some of my longer 3 Sentence Ficathon fills on AO3.
An Immodest Proposal (Babylon 5)
State of Change (Babylon 5)
Hypotheticals (Gattaca)
And a new B5 fic, written a little while back because I had the idea, but not posted until now:
Reliquary (Babylon 5, post-canon, canon compliant, character deaths)
Reposted under the cut.
After it was over, or at least nominally over; after Centauri Prime was free of the Drakh, after it was possible to think once more of things other than war and death and fighting .... Vir was insistent about one particular matter, in spite of the attempts of a few (first Delenn, then John) to talk him out of it.
He wanted Londo and G'Kar to be buried together.
"Vir," John said, half-laughing, although there was nothing funny about it -- but at the same time, there was. "In order to do that, you're going to have to pick a planet to bury them on. I don't think the Narns will deal well with having their greatest modern prophet buried on Centauri Prime, and I can only imagine how both sides will react to finding out the Centauri emperor has been laid to rest on Narn. You're only starting to reestablish diplomatic relations with the rest of the Alliance. Maybe try not to start another war with Narn as your first official act as Emperor, all right?"
"I'm aware of all of what you just said," Vir said, quiet and stubborn in the way he had. "But they would want it. I mean, Londo would want it, I'm sure of that; I think I knew him better than anyone else, anyone still alive, that is. I didn't know G'Kar nearly as well, but I remember all of ... at the last, and -- how lost he was after -- no, G'Kar would want it too. So I intend to see that they have it."
John was aware that Vir had never been a pushover even back in their days on Babylon 5. Two thousand Narns owed their lives to it. But at some point in the last fifteen years, he had turned into the very definition of a steel fist in a velvet glove, seemingly soft but absolutely unyielding. Vir was going to be a decent emperor, John thought -- definitely better than the Centauri had had since Turhan, and maybe for a long time before that.
Provided he could manage not to create a diplomatic incident in his first week in office.
"Look, regardless of what they did or didn't want, one thing they always had in common was a willingness to put the welfare of their people before their own," John pointed out. "Neither of them would want you to start a new war over -- I'm sorry but I gotta say it -- something this trivial."
"I know. I don't want that either, and I won't do it if someone could get hurt over it. But --" And here was the Vir that John had first met on Babylon 5 all those years ago, suddenly unsure and almost young-seeming in spite of the lines on his face and the gray in his hair. "... I couldn't do anything else to help them. I couldn't save them from any of ... of that. And I know it's not right to go back and think about what-ifs --"
"You really can't," John told him quietly.
"I know. But for all the things I couldn't do for them, I can at least give them this now, you know?"
Now that it was too late, John thought, but didn't say. "Yeah, but a shared tomb, Vir .... that's just not ..." He tried to think of a tactful way to express what he was thinking. Whatever Vir had convinced himself about Londo's unspoken last requests, this was a guilt-fueled attempt to make amends to a dead man, and John suspected they both knew it. "I know this might conflict with your beliefs, but they're not still here. It won't fix anything or bring them back. They don't care anymore."
"I know that. I know." Vir rubbed his eyes, although as far as John could tell they were dry, and his shoulders slumped a little. For a moment, his exhaustion showed plainly. "But if I can, I just want to -- to give them something." He brightened a little. "And I have an idea for how to do it without upsetting everyone."
"Can't wait to hear it."
"It hasn't been done in a while," Vir said. "Normally we bury our dead in the ground or inter them in tombs. But there was a custom of cremation for some of the emperors from the older days of the Republic. I think reinstating the custom with Londo would appeal to the traditionalists, and perhaps it would seem like an appropriate end for the people who -- you know -- didn't feel very kindly about him. The Narns, of course," he added, "have a long tradition of cremation for people from all walks of life."
"Vir," John said carefully. "Please tell me you're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting. Putting them in the same tomb is one thing, but in the same urn --"
Vir choked a little. "No -- not exactly," he said, when he could breathe. "I was just thinking to divide up the ashes. Some of both here on Centauri Prime, some on Narn. And maybe a third location. They both always loved being offworld, seeing new places and meeting people. Londo was stuck here for so many years, and G'Kar too, at the end ... I think what'd they'd really want is being out in space."
John sat back and eyed Vir for a minute. Yeah ... he had the makings of one hell of an emperor.
"And were you planning to tell people this?"
"No," Vir said, with a hint of a smile. "As far as anyone's concerned, Londo's remains are here on Centauri Prime, and G'Kar's would be on Narn, where they belong. But we'd know. Anyone who really cared about them would know the truth. And if there is anything left of them, beyond the -- the physical body ... they'd know."
"And meanwhile you'd sneak the ashes of a Narn prophet into a Centauri emperor's tomb."
The smile was a little wider now. "And the reverse. As I said, I didn't know G'Kar that well, but I knew him well enough to know how much he hated being the figurehead of a cult. What it did for his world was good, of course. Very good. But it was being personally worshipped that he hated. I know there are many examples from different planets of a holy person's relics becoming sacred. If they did do ... something, anything, with the ashes, G'Kar would hate that too, but maybe he'd hate it less if it wasn't just him."
John stared at him for a minute.
"... You're right," he said, finally. "They would love this."
***
A few years later
Vir wasn't sure if anyone else noticed, other than possibly Delenn, when he slipped off alone for a few minutes during their final state visit to the decommissioned Babylon 5 station. He would never have been able to get away with it normally, but for the first time in years, he was not accompanied by his personal guards. And no one else in the group was paying that much attention, lost in their own memories of those old days, some bitter and some sweet.
So he took a side step down a darkened hallway, then another, until he was out of sight. The gold and white Imperial robes were not designed for sneaking around, but he didn't have to sneak too far before he slipped the small decorated ceremonial jar from an inner pocket.
"I'm sorry that I don't have time to take you anywhere special," he murmured. "But then I'd have to decide which of your quarters it should be, or somewhere else that mattered to you, maybe the council chamber, or the Zócalo ... what used to be the Zócalo. Did you know they renamed it a couple of years ago? There was a whole sponsorship thing, there's a logo -- anyway, no time for that. In an hour or so, it won't matter."
He didn't need to hide it well, just enough so it wouldn't risk being found before the end. But there was little chance of that. For a fleeting instant, Vir wondered how many other lost, dropped, and forgotten treasures, all the small mementos of the people from many worlds who had lived and loved and died here, were about to be immolated along with the station. Had he left anything behind in his old quarters? Had Londo? He wondered if their successors had managed to clean up that one stubborn brivari stain on the kitchen floor, or found the hidden compartment under the third panel from the left on the bathroom wall.
So many memories, soon to exist only with him.
He spotted a maintenance panel that was pulled slightly loose at the corner, one of many small signs of wear and tear from the station's years, and placed the jar carefully beneath the edge, hidden from casual view. He would have liked to take the time to find a better place. But it was true that it really didn't matter now.
"I think a lot of the best parts of all our lives were here," he whispered. "And some of the worst. But for good or ill, I believe this place made us who we are. It changed us, and it changed our people, all of our people. And now, maybe you, both of you, will travel around the galaxy with whatever's left of it for a million years, or longer."
He rested his fingertips on the jar for a moment before letting go, and went back to find the others before he was missed, to watch the station burn.
An Immodest Proposal (Babylon 5)
State of Change (Babylon 5)
Hypotheticals (Gattaca)
And a new B5 fic, written a little while back because I had the idea, but not posted until now:
Reliquary (Babylon 5, post-canon, canon compliant, character deaths)
Reposted under the cut.
After it was over, or at least nominally over; after Centauri Prime was free of the Drakh, after it was possible to think once more of things other than war and death and fighting .... Vir was insistent about one particular matter, in spite of the attempts of a few (first Delenn, then John) to talk him out of it.
He wanted Londo and G'Kar to be buried together.
"Vir," John said, half-laughing, although there was nothing funny about it -- but at the same time, there was. "In order to do that, you're going to have to pick a planet to bury them on. I don't think the Narns will deal well with having their greatest modern prophet buried on Centauri Prime, and I can only imagine how both sides will react to finding out the Centauri emperor has been laid to rest on Narn. You're only starting to reestablish diplomatic relations with the rest of the Alliance. Maybe try not to start another war with Narn as your first official act as Emperor, all right?"
"I'm aware of all of what you just said," Vir said, quiet and stubborn in the way he had. "But they would want it. I mean, Londo would want it, I'm sure of that; I think I knew him better than anyone else, anyone still alive, that is. I didn't know G'Kar nearly as well, but I remember all of ... at the last, and -- how lost he was after -- no, G'Kar would want it too. So I intend to see that they have it."
John was aware that Vir had never been a pushover even back in their days on Babylon 5. Two thousand Narns owed their lives to it. But at some point in the last fifteen years, he had turned into the very definition of a steel fist in a velvet glove, seemingly soft but absolutely unyielding. Vir was going to be a decent emperor, John thought -- definitely better than the Centauri had had since Turhan, and maybe for a long time before that.
Provided he could manage not to create a diplomatic incident in his first week in office.
"Look, regardless of what they did or didn't want, one thing they always had in common was a willingness to put the welfare of their people before their own," John pointed out. "Neither of them would want you to start a new war over -- I'm sorry but I gotta say it -- something this trivial."
"I know. I don't want that either, and I won't do it if someone could get hurt over it. But --" And here was the Vir that John had first met on Babylon 5 all those years ago, suddenly unsure and almost young-seeming in spite of the lines on his face and the gray in his hair. "... I couldn't do anything else to help them. I couldn't save them from any of ... of that. And I know it's not right to go back and think about what-ifs --"
"You really can't," John told him quietly.
"I know. But for all the things I couldn't do for them, I can at least give them this now, you know?"
Now that it was too late, John thought, but didn't say. "Yeah, but a shared tomb, Vir .... that's just not ..." He tried to think of a tactful way to express what he was thinking. Whatever Vir had convinced himself about Londo's unspoken last requests, this was a guilt-fueled attempt to make amends to a dead man, and John suspected they both knew it. "I know this might conflict with your beliefs, but they're not still here. It won't fix anything or bring them back. They don't care anymore."
"I know that. I know." Vir rubbed his eyes, although as far as John could tell they were dry, and his shoulders slumped a little. For a moment, his exhaustion showed plainly. "But if I can, I just want to -- to give them something." He brightened a little. "And I have an idea for how to do it without upsetting everyone."
"Can't wait to hear it."
"It hasn't been done in a while," Vir said. "Normally we bury our dead in the ground or inter them in tombs. But there was a custom of cremation for some of the emperors from the older days of the Republic. I think reinstating the custom with Londo would appeal to the traditionalists, and perhaps it would seem like an appropriate end for the people who -- you know -- didn't feel very kindly about him. The Narns, of course," he added, "have a long tradition of cremation for people from all walks of life."
"Vir," John said carefully. "Please tell me you're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting. Putting them in the same tomb is one thing, but in the same urn --"
Vir choked a little. "No -- not exactly," he said, when he could breathe. "I was just thinking to divide up the ashes. Some of both here on Centauri Prime, some on Narn. And maybe a third location. They both always loved being offworld, seeing new places and meeting people. Londo was stuck here for so many years, and G'Kar too, at the end ... I think what'd they'd really want is being out in space."
John sat back and eyed Vir for a minute. Yeah ... he had the makings of one hell of an emperor.
"And were you planning to tell people this?"
"No," Vir said, with a hint of a smile. "As far as anyone's concerned, Londo's remains are here on Centauri Prime, and G'Kar's would be on Narn, where they belong. But we'd know. Anyone who really cared about them would know the truth. And if there is anything left of them, beyond the -- the physical body ... they'd know."
"And meanwhile you'd sneak the ashes of a Narn prophet into a Centauri emperor's tomb."
The smile was a little wider now. "And the reverse. As I said, I didn't know G'Kar that well, but I knew him well enough to know how much he hated being the figurehead of a cult. What it did for his world was good, of course. Very good. But it was being personally worshipped that he hated. I know there are many examples from different planets of a holy person's relics becoming sacred. If they did do ... something, anything, with the ashes, G'Kar would hate that too, but maybe he'd hate it less if it wasn't just him."
John stared at him for a minute.
"... You're right," he said, finally. "They would love this."
***
A few years later
Vir wasn't sure if anyone else noticed, other than possibly Delenn, when he slipped off alone for a few minutes during their final state visit to the decommissioned Babylon 5 station. He would never have been able to get away with it normally, but for the first time in years, he was not accompanied by his personal guards. And no one else in the group was paying that much attention, lost in their own memories of those old days, some bitter and some sweet.
So he took a side step down a darkened hallway, then another, until he was out of sight. The gold and white Imperial robes were not designed for sneaking around, but he didn't have to sneak too far before he slipped the small decorated ceremonial jar from an inner pocket.
"I'm sorry that I don't have time to take you anywhere special," he murmured. "But then I'd have to decide which of your quarters it should be, or somewhere else that mattered to you, maybe the council chamber, or the Zócalo ... what used to be the Zócalo. Did you know they renamed it a couple of years ago? There was a whole sponsorship thing, there's a logo -- anyway, no time for that. In an hour or so, it won't matter."
He didn't need to hide it well, just enough so it wouldn't risk being found before the end. But there was little chance of that. For a fleeting instant, Vir wondered how many other lost, dropped, and forgotten treasures, all the small mementos of the people from many worlds who had lived and loved and died here, were about to be immolated along with the station. Had he left anything behind in his old quarters? Had Londo? He wondered if their successors had managed to clean up that one stubborn brivari stain on the kitchen floor, or found the hidden compartment under the third panel from the left on the bathroom wall.
So many memories, soon to exist only with him.
He spotted a maintenance panel that was pulled slightly loose at the corner, one of many small signs of wear and tear from the station's years, and placed the jar carefully beneath the edge, hidden from casual view. He would have liked to take the time to find a better place. But it was true that it really didn't matter now.
"I think a lot of the best parts of all our lives were here," he whispered. "And some of the worst. But for good or ill, I believe this place made us who we are. It changed us, and it changed our people, all of our people. And now, maybe you, both of you, will travel around the galaxy with whatever's left of it for a million years, or longer."
He rested his fingertips on the jar for a moment before letting go, and went back to find the others before he was missed, to watch the station burn.
no subject
I'm glad you remembered the existence of this one, because I love it.