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Aangelhart presents: [winner of the 2002 Poohka Moya fanfic contest!] |
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Educating Moya Disclaimers: I have never owned anything in my life and I don’t intend to start now! J Expressed gratitude goes to Unohoo for being my Beta – reader. Thanks also to the people on the sci-fi BB for their input, it was much-appreciated guys. Summary: Moya has learned some valued lessons on her journeys. ~~~~x~~~~ I am a Leviathan, a biomechanical ship. I was a prison ship, but no longer serve as this. I am over 30 metras wide at any central point. I have over 50 prison chambers, a command, a terrace, and among other things, varying degrees of control. I have over 300 DRD’s and a very intelligent Pilot, not my first Pilot, but I accept him just the same. My name is Moya, and this is my story. I was released from my control collar over three cycles ago by varying species, which were amongst other things, cold-blooded murders. All of which were prisoners serving their sentences aboard my ship. While I did not want to be a prison ship and abhorred the collar, I was equally afraid of the new crew, but they soon proved their loyalty. Now? They are my allies. I had wondered at first; were they any better than my previous captors – the Peacekeepers? At least I would be free of the collar, of being controlled. And if I preferred not to serve these others, if the tried to harm me, I could always cease the environmentals. But, I chose to work with them at the time. I have never regretted that decision, I have pondered on it, but never truly regretted it. My first Pilot was murdered by the Peacekeepers. Why? Because she chose not to follow their absurd orders. Having two pilots has made me unique. No other Leviathan has had this happen, something I am eternally grateful for. My new Pilot was forced upon me, he was young, inexperienced and in awe of my world. It’s easier to comply with Peacekeeper rules when your dream is at stake. He serves me well though. He has grown, matured; he now understands that dreams can come true, but usually at a price. He is my communicator, my protector, and my friend, such an alien concept until now. I found myself watching over these beings as a mother would her children. My DRD’s serve this purpose as well to help, to obey, and might I add, clean up after them. They are now my crew; I choose to serve them. They have proved their worth. I often wonder what might have happened if, as one crewmember stated, fates had not collided on that momentous day. Would I have lived out my cycles as a prison ship, or would the Peacekeepers have become defeated by other, more compassionate species? Would I have ever been free to roam the galaxy as I pleased, just Pilot and myself? Or would I have been destroyed due to some vendetta or other? The group I acquired were different from any other. A Delvian, a Hynerian, a Luxan, a Sebacean and an unknown species referred to as Human. Later, more joined as others passed. They have remained loyal throughout all of our adventures. They ask the minimal of me, to serve and retain environmentals. So little to ask from a crew who have on occasion, been willing to sacrifice their lives so that my Pilot and I could live on. ~~~~x~~~~ I have a son now – Talyn. He is part Leviathan, part Peacekeeper war ship. He was an experiment the Peacekeepers thought to try. I adore him like a mother should. He needs no Pilot. However, he is a volatile being, made more difficult through his immature choice of captain at the time. He tries his best to protect me, although I now know this will not always be the case. And he tries to determine right from wrong, but he is young, he does make mistakes sometimes to the detriment of others. His commander is a reformed Peacekeeper captain. He had proved us all wrong in the cycle that past. He treated my son well, protected and guided him; what more could a mother have asked? I have come to love and respect my crew – my saviours. I have, over the cycles, observed the changes since we were first brought together. Criminals thrown into anarchy only to reform and become strong allies, friends. All of who look out for the each other putting their own life at risk for the sake of their friends, or even another species entirely. That is why my request will be difficult. I think they will obey; they serve me as I serve them. It doesn’t make the situation any more bearable. How can I ask them to follow MY quest? Each has their own pursuit, and another for the greater good of the universe. Would they understand that what I ask is also for that same greater good? That is why I am communicating my thoughts to Pilot; he will be the one to relay my quest. I am certain of one crewmember the Sebacean – Aeryn Sun. She has a special bond with Pilot, she shares his DNA therefore she would protect us both, help in any way she could. And what ever she decided, one other would surely follow, the human – John Crichton. Although all of my crew would want to help, they may not see my quest as important compared to their own pursuits, each wish to return to their own home worlds. There is another that may be considered, the Nebari – Chiana. She was at the birth of my son. Without her aid, neither he nor I would be here now. If, by some twist of providence, the others do not wish to pursue this, I am certain that some WILL accompany us. This is why my appeal is made all the more complex. I may be responsible for splitting this group, my family. ~~~~x~~~~ So here they stand, my family. Waiting to hear why their presence as been requested in Pilot’s chamber. They stand before him, each silent – an extraordinary accomplishment in it’s own right. Pilot is relaying my quest; I listen, feeling the change in atmosphere. Aeryn Sun nods almost immediately. The rest? They are talking, all at once. She steps forward showing her solidarity. And as predicted, the human follows. The Nebari is next, hesitantly but she stands with them none the less. The next arn is taken up with various arguments for and against my wish. They come to a joint decision finally. They will aid me; my family will stay together. There is a catch though – isn’t there always? They have requested – no, stated (not outright, but the underlying demand is there) that I have a time limit. Not such a dear price to pay. Pilot acknowledges my agreement and conveys it to the others. They separate, each going their own way. Only Aeryn Sun stays. Talking softly to my Pilot, assuring him that they will do everything in their power to help. I know this is a promise she cannot truly keep, but I pulsate my gratitude anyway. I listen to the others as they wander my vast hallways, discussing what they have learned; trying to understand why I need to do this. And what do I need to do? I need to find my Builders. I can empathise with their worries. These Builders had once tried to shut me down. They did not comprehend the experiment that left me with child. Leviathans are peaceful beings. The deceased Delvian priest saved me, showing the Builders that I was cared for, loved. The crew would not unduly put me at risk; they would not use Talyn to destroy innocents. Somehow, even they could not prevent this; although it was not their doing, they still felt partly responsible when it eventually happened. And why do I seek out my Builders? I have to ask them a question. That, in itself seems harmless. However, the answer to my question may result in repercussions that could destroy us all in one form or another. I need to know though, I HAVE to know: Will Talyn become a weapon of mass destruction? If the answer is yes, I have to consider what to do. But I already know what would have to be done, what I would have to do. And that is when I need the crew to unite, to be strong and respect my decision. I may have to destroy my child, my very reason for existing, and in the process I will destroy my world, my heart and my soul. The group will judge me, argue with, and try to dissuade me. It would be easy to allow them to do that. But I have thought about this, I have thought of nothing else. Talyn has already shown signs of rebellion to both his captain and me, his own mother. He is Leviathan, but he is also Peacekeeper. In time, the Peacekeeper element will overrule his other, more gentle side. He will want to return to them and fight along side them, which is part of his breeding after all. Then what will happen? He will be forced to seek us out. We are collectively the most wanted criminals in the known universe. And by that time he will be too far-gone to listen to reason, to their pleading, MY begging. He is one of the most powerful ships in this universe. Fully grown, his weaponry will match that of a Command Carrier. That coupled with the fact that his very existence can aid the Peacekeeper’s experiments to breed more of the same makes him dangerous beyond belief. The battlefield that is our universe will be in chaos. Half-breed Leviathans with the need for no Pilots, roaming free or worse, in Peacekeeper hands, allowed to destroy anything that lies in their path. So many innocent lives will be lost. I cannot allow that to happen, that is against MY breeding. I can justify my actions. If the time calls for it, I will sacrifice my son to save him from this, from himself. The Builders have the power and I have the knowledge, combined Talyn can be destroyed. He will feel no pain; we are after all, gentle beings. It is I who will be left to deal with my actions, to somehow try and make sure his death will not be in vain. That is, if I can live with the consequences. I think of this, but then the answer may be no. I have learned some valued lessons on my journeys with this family, one of which is hope. There is always hope. Without it, we could not cope with the daily onslaught of battle, death and survival. My family, they have taught me well, served me well and loved me like no other. I can only hope that, if the answer is yes, they will continue to do these things for me. I would not like to contemplate life without them being onboard. Leviathans live to serve, but for once, I have to put myself first. My quest takes precedence over each and every one of them. And if my future is without them, they will be sorely missed. ~~~~x~~~~ We have been kept relatively safe in the days that past. Talyn has become more destructive. His captain has been in touch, telling us of their exploits. The stories make me sad. The others have felt this but remain silent, respecting my needs. My steady pulsating has become erratic over the news. The atmosphere has been strained – not the environmental atmosphere, the general one. Subtle changes have gone uncommented. DRD’s not being where they are expected, Pilot becoming very subdued, lost in my emotions. The latest news has just arrived and I receive it with both sorrow and relief. We have found the Builders; or rather, they have found us. I will know the fates in less than an arn. Who would know that an arn could last so long? ~~~~x~~~~ And so, the arn having finally past, the crew assemble in Pilot’s chamber. Has it really only been one weeken since they were gathered here last? It seems like an eternity to me, and thus for Pilot too. He has coped well with my changes. Accommodating them, as a loyal server should. He has listened to my worries and tried so very hard to reassure me. I cannot be reassured though; it is only myself who knows what will happen when my question is answered. I am the one who will have to do the deed that may need to be done. They wait again and they do it so well this time. Waiting was never a strong attribute for the group. Pilot is discussing past events with the Builders. They are pleased – we have not disappointed them. Yet. And now the time has come to ask. Suddenly I feel that it is too soon. I find myself wishing that I had more time. When did time become my enemy? I want more time: Time to spend with my son. Time to try and make him understand how strong a mother’s love is. He wouldn’t understand though. How could he? I sense the tension in the room. They are not aware of the implications to the answer I seek. They will be soon though. We all will. And so the question is asked. The Builders contemplate. They know the reasoning behind the query; they also know the weight of which their answer will carry. Time seems to stand still. I realise that I am mourning the loss of my son with every passing microt. *Hope. Remember the hope* It’s not so easy to do now. They are still conferring, discussing, theorising, these Builders who hold the lives of both my son and I in their hands. Do they know that? Do they sense my fears? Of course they do. We are linked; we are connected in every way. They will feel the loss as deeply as I do. I am aware of the voices. Not the crew, the Builders. They have chosen to communicate directly to me. Such discretion cannot be good. I want to block out the sounds; hide myself from the truth that is about to be revealed. Shy away from them. I don’t though. I show strength, strength I do not posses. And I hope. I hope they are not aware of my thoughts. I hope that their answer is no. But above all, I hope for my son, for Talyn. Thoughts form. If they say yes, could I not just take Talyn to some distant part of the universe and stay there? Keep him away from every influence? Protect him, as a mother should? These are dismissed as quickly as they form. I have had these thoughts before and they always end with the same, stark answer. No. So I prepare myself as best I can and I open my mind to my creators. Let them in, let them destroy my life or rejoice it. ~~~x~~~ I’m vaguely aware that Pilot is being interrogated. Questions are being fired at him from every direction. The crew are frustrated, confused, scared even. They don’t quite realise the fate that may bestow us all. They have come to comprehend that the question is not as simple as it sounds. Yes, my family are clever; clever, self-sacrificing, loyal and compassionate. That may well be tested to a limit they do not yet know they possess. And without further distraction, I hear the voices directed at me. Calm, soothing voices. They tell me what I so desperately need to know: My son is indeed a weapon if mass destruction. The answer is yes. My hope evaporates, taking with it everything I have ever dreamed of. I stop listening and mourn. My anger, grief and injustice of it all are not vocal, but it causes an automatic reflex. My body lurches to one side then the other. The crew are thrown from their standpoints. Pilot is talking in his own language. It is incomprehensible to anyone but me. But I’m not listening. He is feeling my emotions. He can’t help though. No one can. The voices grow louder, my creators soft humming and my family’s cries of alarm. Aeryn Sun is holding Pilot’s claw. I feel her steady stroke and calming voice. I concentrate on that, knowing it won’t last long. Her bond with Pilot will ensure that. She stops talking mid sentence. Her thoughts are no longer composed. She understands now. She is fully aware of what has transpired. More voices, urging me into calmness, pleading with me to listen. What more can they say? What will make a difference now? And yet I hear that faint whisper. *Hope. Hope is not lost. * They are feeding on my energy trying to force me to listen. Using my own thoughts as a way of communicating. And it works, for a microt. But that is all that is needed. I right my position and stop every voice in an instant. What are they saying? Is it a trick? They have my full attention as they tell me what they propose. I feel like I am being torn apart. Talyn does not have to be killed. His mechanoids can be shut down. His character anomalies can be changed, repaired. He will survive. But he will not be Talyn. He will not be my son. But he will be alive. I have often heard the human talk of choices. Now I come to realise that this is a choice. I can kill my own offspring, or I can have him, in effect, replaced. Is that a choice? I thank my creators as courteously as I can. They know I am dismissing them and I am dimly aware that they have left my mind that is now in turmoil. Pilot is talking to me and Aeryn Sun is still stroking his claw. His words are noted accordingly but I have to be the one who has to decide. I tell Pilot to convey all that has emerged to the rest of the crew. Then I am left alone with my own thoughts. ~~~~x~~~~ Over three arns have passed. And for once, they have passed quickly. My servers are subdued, each giving their own proposal. But the fundamental message is clear. And for that, I love them more. They will stand by whatever choice I make. They will honour it and they will respect it. That is all the assurance I need. I transmit my thought to Pilot. Once again, leaving him to face the wrath. All that is left to do is contact Crais. He will comply. He will have little option when he realises what the alternative is. He does care for my son. He will understand that this is for the best. He HAS to understand. And so, I am about to lose my son. Not in body but in soul. Is one better than the other? Watching a loved one who knows nothing of your very existence? Perhaps. If the human can do it, then so can I. And who knows? Maybe I can teach Talyn to love me again. *Hope* *There is always hope* The time ahead will be bleak. I will face it with strength. After all, I have another family who need me also. Who will care for me; help heal the wounds that I am about to create. They will comfort me and serve me as I serve them. ~~~~x~~~~ It’s seems that I am always learning new lessons. Each more valued than the last. The human is talking softly to Pilot. Telling him that it is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all. Yes another valued lesson, a very valued, very painful lesson. My name is Moya and I have hope for the future. If I have no hope, I have no reason to exist. Yes, I have hope. |
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The End | ||||||||
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