[Arrow/Torchwood] "Wraith Passage" (PG)
Oct. 4th, 2013 11:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mtxref_ficAuthor's Note: Set in the "I Shot an Arrow Into the Air" crossover universe. Inspired by the Parlor Passage scene in Scott Lynch's "Red Sails Under Red Skies"
Word Count: 1,367
Malcolm awoke to the sound of his father and his (Malcolm's) half-sister arguing in the forward cabin.
"I'm not going through the Wraith Corridor again, not after the last time," Verrity snapped.
"It's either that or take the scenic route around Vashtarian, and I'm wanted for a botched heist there," Harkness snapped back.
"So we'll hide you in the hold, under some crates," Verrity retorted, patiently.
"They'll scan for life signs, they'll find me in no time!" Jack snarled.
"All right, we'll go through the Wraith Corridor, but I don't like doing this with Malcolm on board: it's his maiden voyage in our world and I'd rather not break my newly found baby brother," Verrity replied, with a harassed sigh.
"Cherry's gotta be popped sometime," Jack replied, with an audibly cheeky smirk.
"You did not just use that analogy," she retorted.
"You mentioned maiden, it was the first thing that came to me," Jack replied.
Verrity emitted a wordless snarl and Malcolm heard her boots stomping down the companionway, heading for the cockpit.
A moment later, Jack tapped at the cabin door before sliding it open and peering in. "Sorry for the noisy wake up call: your sister and I had a difference in opinion on how to plot our course," he said, apologetically.
"So I heard," Malcolm said, sitting up carefully on his bunk so as not to bang his head on the bulwark overhead. "And don't worry about it: I was awake anyway." He reached for his shirt on the peg where he had hung it and pulled it on before clambering down from his bunk and finding his boots before joining Jack at the door. "What's the Wraith Corridor?"
"Gas cloud in an asteroid field," Jack replied, stepping aside for him. "The path through the field isn't so bad if you're a decent pilot, but the gas cloud filling the gaps between the rocks makes it interesting. Futzes with your ship's instruments and more than that, if you're not careful."
"Not liking the sound of the 'more than that'," Malcolm remarked. "Care to elaborate?"
"It's semi-sentient, not exactly alive, but its somewhat telepathic and it can mess with the wires in your head," Jack elaborated. "If we go through it, you stay close to Verrity and I the whole time. You don't go back to your cabin, you don't go near the air lock. Got it?" The hard look in Jack's eyes gave him no space for questioning.
"I got it." He had thought that traveling by land or sea -- on earth -- had its share of dangers, but he realized he had no idea how dangerous traveling in space could be, with things he had no frame of reference to place these new experience. Life on this ship put him in mind of an old black and white movie set on a submarine, and he had gotten a bit too used to that analogy.
They dropped out of hyperspace onto the edge of the asteroid field, the three of them crowded into the cockpit, Verrity in the pilot's chair, Harkness in the co-pilot's chair, Malcolm on the jump seat behind the former. If he twisted around far enough, he could see out the forward windscreen, through which he could see a field of large rubbly boulders of all sizes, some larger than the ship, some smaller, lit by the light of near-distance stars. A greenish mist filled the spaces in between the rocks, glowing dully in the diffused starlight, roiling and swirling as their ship passed through it.
"Strap yourself in, we've made it to the Corridor," Jack said, fastening his own seat belt.
"You breathing back there, Mal?" Verrity asked.
"Yes, and don't call me Mal," Malcolm replied, wincing, thinking of the one who used to call him by that nickname.
The throb and thrum of the turbines, far in the rear of the ship seemed louder somehow, the sound enhanced perhaps by the gas cloud. Malcolm had thought that space would devour any and all sound, but at times like this, when something filled the void of space, he could hear things, usually as bass notes deep in his chest or higher notes humming in his sinuses.
But now he heard something different, like a soft wash of sound, like a breeze blowing across ones ears, gentle wordless murmurs rising, falling, ebbing, flowing, like the rush of blood in ones veins or the flow of air in and out of ones lungs. So gentle, so soft, it made his limbs feel heavy with fatigue, so tired he wondered if he would be rid of this feeling if he just went back to his cabin to lay down just to rest, just to put the sound out of his head. His hand started to go to the straps about his torso.
A klaxon went off somewhere. Malcolm's heart jumped up inside his chest, but he managed to keep the rest of himself from jumping with it. "Autopilot disengaged," the on board computer intoned.
"Crud," Verrity muttered, slapping a button on the console.
"What's that about?" Malcolm asked, peering at the console.
"The gas cloud's interfering with the guidance system: we'll have to switch to manual power. Needs a steady hand to keep us on course now," Harkness said, his eye on Verrity, who had started pressing more buttons with one hand, the other firmly on the ship's wheel.
"I'd talk about getting out to push the ship, but this isn't the place for it," Verrity said.
"Not with your brother on board," Harkness warned.
Wouldn't be a bad idea, to be off this ship, ground beneath his feet, air in his lungs that had not gone through the air scrubbers several times, maybe get away from these two for a while, to travel on his own for a while, him and his shadow, out in the universe, away from them, farther away from the ones who hunted him back on Earth, maybe even just drift out into nothingness. And if he still had a soul, perhaps that part of him would find its way to Rebecca.
"You still alive back there, Mal?" Harkness asked, his voice rising from the shadows.
Malcolm shook himself, forcing himself to look at Harkness, to focus on his biological father's face, the features carved out with shadows and the diffused light flowing through the gas lighting the rest with an eerie greenish light. "I thought I told you not to call me that," he snapped, trying to sound less patient than before, but even he heard a warble of apprehension.
"Don't feed the animals," Verrity said, not turning in her chair, not even turning her head, her hands moving the ships wheel carefully, making minute adjustments as they slipped between the asteroids. "If you keep saying that, he'll remember that it bothers you and he'll call you that just to get a rise out of you."
Malcolm turned away, staring into the shadows of the cockpit. "Rebecca used to call me that."
Harkness made no reply; Malcolm turned to look at him and found the man had turned to look at him, his face fallen in a quiet frown of remorse, his pale eyes penitent, even understanding. "Still too soon to call you that," he noted.
"I would rather you didn't," Malcolm said. Change the subject, he thought and looked back out the cockpit window, at the field of boulders and rocks of all sizes. "Do I dare ask, are we nearly through?"
Almost as he spoke, the haze started to lift, tongues of yellow and green starting to separate from each other, like cotton balls slowly pulling apart till nothing remained.
"Almost through," Harkness replied. "More power to the aft thrusters, Verrity, otherwise we'll bog down and the gas will pull us back into its deadly seductive embrace."
"I'm on it," Verrity said, reaching up to hit one switch and then another on the overhead console. The ship shook itself as if pulling itself from a bog, then lurched forward, the turbines throbbing more loudly, enough to drown out the hum from the shades outside as the ship put distance between itself and the wraiths...
Word Count: 1,367
Malcolm awoke to the sound of his father and his (Malcolm's) half-sister arguing in the forward cabin.
"I'm not going through the Wraith Corridor again, not after the last time," Verrity snapped.
"It's either that or take the scenic route around Vashtarian, and I'm wanted for a botched heist there," Harkness snapped back.
"So we'll hide you in the hold, under some crates," Verrity retorted, patiently.
"They'll scan for life signs, they'll find me in no time!" Jack snarled.
"All right, we'll go through the Wraith Corridor, but I don't like doing this with Malcolm on board: it's his maiden voyage in our world and I'd rather not break my newly found baby brother," Verrity replied, with a harassed sigh.
"Cherry's gotta be popped sometime," Jack replied, with an audibly cheeky smirk.
"You did not just use that analogy," she retorted.
"You mentioned maiden, it was the first thing that came to me," Jack replied.
Verrity emitted a wordless snarl and Malcolm heard her boots stomping down the companionway, heading for the cockpit.
A moment later, Jack tapped at the cabin door before sliding it open and peering in. "Sorry for the noisy wake up call: your sister and I had a difference in opinion on how to plot our course," he said, apologetically.
"So I heard," Malcolm said, sitting up carefully on his bunk so as not to bang his head on the bulwark overhead. "And don't worry about it: I was awake anyway." He reached for his shirt on the peg where he had hung it and pulled it on before clambering down from his bunk and finding his boots before joining Jack at the door. "What's the Wraith Corridor?"
"Gas cloud in an asteroid field," Jack replied, stepping aside for him. "The path through the field isn't so bad if you're a decent pilot, but the gas cloud filling the gaps between the rocks makes it interesting. Futzes with your ship's instruments and more than that, if you're not careful."
"Not liking the sound of the 'more than that'," Malcolm remarked. "Care to elaborate?"
"It's semi-sentient, not exactly alive, but its somewhat telepathic and it can mess with the wires in your head," Jack elaborated. "If we go through it, you stay close to Verrity and I the whole time. You don't go back to your cabin, you don't go near the air lock. Got it?" The hard look in Jack's eyes gave him no space for questioning.
"I got it." He had thought that traveling by land or sea -- on earth -- had its share of dangers, but he realized he had no idea how dangerous traveling in space could be, with things he had no frame of reference to place these new experience. Life on this ship put him in mind of an old black and white movie set on a submarine, and he had gotten a bit too used to that analogy.
They dropped out of hyperspace onto the edge of the asteroid field, the three of them crowded into the cockpit, Verrity in the pilot's chair, Harkness in the co-pilot's chair, Malcolm on the jump seat behind the former. If he twisted around far enough, he could see out the forward windscreen, through which he could see a field of large rubbly boulders of all sizes, some larger than the ship, some smaller, lit by the light of near-distance stars. A greenish mist filled the spaces in between the rocks, glowing dully in the diffused starlight, roiling and swirling as their ship passed through it.
"Strap yourself in, we've made it to the Corridor," Jack said, fastening his own seat belt.
"You breathing back there, Mal?" Verrity asked.
"Yes, and don't call me Mal," Malcolm replied, wincing, thinking of the one who used to call him by that nickname.
The throb and thrum of the turbines, far in the rear of the ship seemed louder somehow, the sound enhanced perhaps by the gas cloud. Malcolm had thought that space would devour any and all sound, but at times like this, when something filled the void of space, he could hear things, usually as bass notes deep in his chest or higher notes humming in his sinuses.
But now he heard something different, like a soft wash of sound, like a breeze blowing across ones ears, gentle wordless murmurs rising, falling, ebbing, flowing, like the rush of blood in ones veins or the flow of air in and out of ones lungs. So gentle, so soft, it made his limbs feel heavy with fatigue, so tired he wondered if he would be rid of this feeling if he just went back to his cabin to lay down just to rest, just to put the sound out of his head. His hand started to go to the straps about his torso.
A klaxon went off somewhere. Malcolm's heart jumped up inside his chest, but he managed to keep the rest of himself from jumping with it. "Autopilot disengaged," the on board computer intoned.
"Crud," Verrity muttered, slapping a button on the console.
"What's that about?" Malcolm asked, peering at the console.
"The gas cloud's interfering with the guidance system: we'll have to switch to manual power. Needs a steady hand to keep us on course now," Harkness said, his eye on Verrity, who had started pressing more buttons with one hand, the other firmly on the ship's wheel.
"I'd talk about getting out to push the ship, but this isn't the place for it," Verrity said.
"Not with your brother on board," Harkness warned.
Wouldn't be a bad idea, to be off this ship, ground beneath his feet, air in his lungs that had not gone through the air scrubbers several times, maybe get away from these two for a while, to travel on his own for a while, him and his shadow, out in the universe, away from them, farther away from the ones who hunted him back on Earth, maybe even just drift out into nothingness. And if he still had a soul, perhaps that part of him would find its way to Rebecca.
"You still alive back there, Mal?" Harkness asked, his voice rising from the shadows.
Malcolm shook himself, forcing himself to look at Harkness, to focus on his biological father's face, the features carved out with shadows and the diffused light flowing through the gas lighting the rest with an eerie greenish light. "I thought I told you not to call me that," he snapped, trying to sound less patient than before, but even he heard a warble of apprehension.
"Don't feed the animals," Verrity said, not turning in her chair, not even turning her head, her hands moving the ships wheel carefully, making minute adjustments as they slipped between the asteroids. "If you keep saying that, he'll remember that it bothers you and he'll call you that just to get a rise out of you."
Malcolm turned away, staring into the shadows of the cockpit. "Rebecca used to call me that."
Harkness made no reply; Malcolm turned to look at him and found the man had turned to look at him, his face fallen in a quiet frown of remorse, his pale eyes penitent, even understanding. "Still too soon to call you that," he noted.
"I would rather you didn't," Malcolm said. Change the subject, he thought and looked back out the cockpit window, at the field of boulders and rocks of all sizes. "Do I dare ask, are we nearly through?"
Almost as he spoke, the haze started to lift, tongues of yellow and green starting to separate from each other, like cotton balls slowly pulling apart till nothing remained.
"Almost through," Harkness replied. "More power to the aft thrusters, Verrity, otherwise we'll bog down and the gas will pull us back into its deadly seductive embrace."
"I'm on it," Verrity said, reaching up to hit one switch and then another on the overhead console. The ship shook itself as if pulling itself from a bog, then lurched forward, the turbines throbbing more loudly, enough to drown out the hum from the shades outside as the ship put distance between itself and the wraiths...
