FIC: Black Hearts, Part Six
Feb. 10th, 2007 04:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jeriendhalTags: Crossover, Vorkosigan, Terinu, Miles, PG-13 for angst.
Note: The wonderful![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chaypeta liked my story so much she took time out from inking her comic to put together the sketch below!
The child turned his head, catching Mark's stare. “What the fragg are you lookin' at, lard ass?” he demanded
Ah, the polite, reasoned discourse of an tired, angry teenager. It was something Mark could understand, if not exactly sympathize with at the moment. “I'm not sure. What the f--- fragg, rather, are you? What House made you? Bharaputra doesn't have the skill. Fell wouldn't be interested in something as exotic as you. Ryoval almost certainly could, except they went belly up over five years ago, and the old Baron would have certainly have shown you off. Or were you a private plaything?” Horns, yeah, that was an easy enough mod, and so were clawed feet and four fingered hands. But that damned tail the boy had, almost two meters in size, nearly twice as long as the he was tall, with a wide spade at the end and prehensile to boot, that was a work of art.
“Fragg off, fat boy.” Terinu turned his back to the cell door, and Mark thought he could see dark marks on the boy's wrists, probably bruises from the handcuffs.
Mark bit back on his temper. “Boy, even for me, I'm having a remarkably bad day, so if you don't mind I'd appreciate it if you could damp the damned attitude down. This Chan woman, whoever she is, has got a friend of yours. She also happens to have my wife. And phrases like “rape party” really don't instill me with confidence about her good intentions. Right now I need as much information as you can give me so I can assess the situation. Now quit being a blithering idiot and give it to me, so maybe I can figure a way for all of us to get out of here. Starting with just what the hell you are exactly.”
“None of your fragging business.”
He bit out the next few words, feeling the acid from his vomit burning his throat. “Tell me what I need to know. Or would you rather I tell the next guard that comes through that your friend Matt was feeding you against standing orders?”
The boy's answering hiss as he turned towards Mark's reflection was filled with more venom than a hundred curses. “You do that, I'll rip your fraggin' throat out.”
Mark smiled back at him coldly. “You could try. I was trained as an assassin.”
Terinu's expression was caught somewhere between a snarl and a confident smile. “So was I.”
“By Chan, I'm guessing? What are you?”
“I'm a Ferin.”
“A what?” Mark asked.
“Ferin,” the boy repeated. “Some nutcase Varn found a bunch of critters he thought were cute and decided to make us think and talk and walk like a Creo or Galen. A slave race, just to serve the Varn. Except there ain't no more Ferin except me. Chan found me when I was a little kid and decided to make me her personal throat cutter. But I got away from her, at least until a few days ago.”
“Creo? Galen? Who are they?”
“Rock faces and feather heads,” Terinu said contemptuously. “What are you, fat and stupid?”
Mark grimaced, ignoring the insult, trying to sort everything out. “Wait, back up. You're claiming to be genetically engineered from some kind of animal?”
“Yeah.”
“And these... Creo and Galen, they're gene-gineered too?”
The boy rolled his eyes. “Where did you grow up, under a frellin' rock? They're just another race, like humans.”
“Aliens you mean.”
“Everybody's a fraggin' alien to me.”
The boy, genetically engineered creature or moddie child, had to be insane, Mark thought. Aliens didn't exist outside of speculative fiction. And yet... He narrowed his eyes, trying to look at Terinu the way his mother or Miles would. The boy's tail was lashing back and forth, and his jaw was set, as every once and while his eyes glanced towards the hatchway at the end of the corridor. He's scared out of his mind, Mark thought, but he's not lying, or at least he thinks he isn't. But how could he believe that aliens were real?
When I was seventeen, I thought I could single-handedly kill my genetic father, then Emperor Gregor, set myself on Barrayar's throne and take over the empire. Crazy or not, underestimating this kid would not be smart. “Okay, forget about aliens. How about we concentrate on the here and now? How did you get caught by this Chan woman?”
Terinu took in a deep breath, obviously trying to calm down. “We, Rufus, Leeza, Gwen and me, we were travelin' on Rufus' yacht. Popped into a system, looking for clues as to what the Varn were up to next, when we got painted by the Celestial Maruader. Leeza thought Chan must've been huntin' us. Anyway, Rufus and Leeza decided to split off, he and Gwen runnin' in his fighter, Leeza and me staying on the yacht. We thought Chan would go after fighter, thinking I'd be tryin' to get away as fast as I could. No such luck. She blew the yacht and caught Leeza and me. Rufus...” His voice caught and he swallowed hard, “Rufus and Gwen tried to follow us. They would have rescued us. They tried...” The boy turned away again, hunching into the corner, making himself small.
Mark leaned up against the wall, feeling the ship's gravity weigh him down. “Hey. I once got to see my brother almost be blown in half by a needle grenade and then I managed to lose his body. He came back anyway. Don't count your friends dead until they're dead and rotted, eh?”
Terinu just curled up in his corner a little tighter, shaking his head. But then they both looked up as the hatch unlocked, and three men entered.
The first could have probably competed with Miles' Sgt. Bothari for sheer ugliness, a beefy, bald bruiser with a nose that had been repeatedly broken and reset. Flanking him were two guards...
The first was as bald as the leader, but his skin was gray like the boy's, and his head was earless, with a heavy, almost Neanderthal brow. The resemblance between the guard and a troll of Barrayaran legend was close enough to make Mark wonder if he'd fallen into a dark fairy tale. The second fellow was tall, taller than even one of the Koudelkas, thin faced, and looked almost human, except for the fine white feathers covering his scalp and three thin, fine bones emerging from his skull where a human's ears would be.
Rock faces and feather heads, Mark thought.
The trio walked up to Mark's cell door. “Your name Vorkosigan, fat boy?” the leader asked gruffly.
“That's me,” he answered evenly, rising to his feet.
The leader smiled. It wasn't a friendly expression by any definition of the term. “Lady Chan wants to speak t' ya.”
“Good,” Mark replied, putting a falsely confident smile on his face, “I think we need to talk as well.”
TBC
Note: The wonderful
chaypeta liked my story so much she took time out from inking her comic to put together the sketch below!The child turned his head, catching Mark's stare. “What the fragg are you lookin' at, lard ass?” he demanded
Ah, the polite, reasoned discourse of an tired, angry teenager. It was something Mark could understand, if not exactly sympathize with at the moment. “I'm not sure. What the f--- fragg, rather, are you? What House made you? Bharaputra doesn't have the skill. Fell wouldn't be interested in something as exotic as you. Ryoval almost certainly could, except they went belly up over five years ago, and the old Baron would have certainly have shown you off. Or were you a private plaything?” Horns, yeah, that was an easy enough mod, and so were clawed feet and four fingered hands. But that damned tail the boy had, almost two meters in size, nearly twice as long as the he was tall, with a wide spade at the end and prehensile to boot, that was a work of art.
“Fragg off, fat boy.” Terinu turned his back to the cell door, and Mark thought he could see dark marks on the boy's wrists, probably bruises from the handcuffs.
Mark bit back on his temper. “Boy, even for me, I'm having a remarkably bad day, so if you don't mind I'd appreciate it if you could damp the damned attitude down. This Chan woman, whoever she is, has got a friend of yours. She also happens to have my wife. And phrases like “rape party” really don't instill me with confidence about her good intentions. Right now I need as much information as you can give me so I can assess the situation. Now quit being a blithering idiot and give it to me, so maybe I can figure a way for all of us to get out of here. Starting with just what the hell you are exactly.”
“None of your fragging business.”
He bit out the next few words, feeling the acid from his vomit burning his throat. “Tell me what I need to know. Or would you rather I tell the next guard that comes through that your friend Matt was feeding you against standing orders?”
The boy's answering hiss as he turned towards Mark's reflection was filled with more venom than a hundred curses. “You do that, I'll rip your fraggin' throat out.”
Mark smiled back at him coldly. “You could try. I was trained as an assassin.”
Terinu's expression was caught somewhere between a snarl and a confident smile. “So was I.”
“By Chan, I'm guessing? What are you?”
“I'm a Ferin.”
“A what?” Mark asked.
“Ferin,” the boy repeated. “Some nutcase Varn found a bunch of critters he thought were cute and decided to make us think and talk and walk like a Creo or Galen. A slave race, just to serve the Varn. Except there ain't no more Ferin except me. Chan found me when I was a little kid and decided to make me her personal throat cutter. But I got away from her, at least until a few days ago.”
“Creo? Galen? Who are they?”
“Rock faces and feather heads,” Terinu said contemptuously. “What are you, fat and stupid?”
Mark grimaced, ignoring the insult, trying to sort everything out. “Wait, back up. You're claiming to be genetically engineered from some kind of animal?”
“Yeah.”
“And these... Creo and Galen, they're gene-gineered too?”
The boy rolled his eyes. “Where did you grow up, under a frellin' rock? They're just another race, like humans.”
“Aliens you mean.”
“Everybody's a fraggin' alien to me.”
The boy, genetically engineered creature or moddie child, had to be insane, Mark thought. Aliens didn't exist outside of speculative fiction. And yet... He narrowed his eyes, trying to look at Terinu the way his mother or Miles would. The boy's tail was lashing back and forth, and his jaw was set, as every once and while his eyes glanced towards the hatchway at the end of the corridor. He's scared out of his mind, Mark thought, but he's not lying, or at least he thinks he isn't. But how could he believe that aliens were real?
When I was seventeen, I thought I could single-handedly kill my genetic father, then Emperor Gregor, set myself on Barrayar's throne and take over the empire. Crazy or not, underestimating this kid would not be smart. “Okay, forget about aliens. How about we concentrate on the here and now? How did you get caught by this Chan woman?”
Terinu took in a deep breath, obviously trying to calm down. “We, Rufus, Leeza, Gwen and me, we were travelin' on Rufus' yacht. Popped into a system, looking for clues as to what the Varn were up to next, when we got painted by the Celestial Maruader. Leeza thought Chan must've been huntin' us. Anyway, Rufus and Leeza decided to split off, he and Gwen runnin' in his fighter, Leeza and me staying on the yacht. We thought Chan would go after fighter, thinking I'd be tryin' to get away as fast as I could. No such luck. She blew the yacht and caught Leeza and me. Rufus...” His voice caught and he swallowed hard, “Rufus and Gwen tried to follow us. They would have rescued us. They tried...” The boy turned away again, hunching into the corner, making himself small.
Mark leaned up against the wall, feeling the ship's gravity weigh him down. “Hey. I once got to see my brother almost be blown in half by a needle grenade and then I managed to lose his body. He came back anyway. Don't count your friends dead until they're dead and rotted, eh?”
Terinu just curled up in his corner a little tighter, shaking his head. But then they both looked up as the hatch unlocked, and three men entered.
The first could have probably competed with Miles' Sgt. Bothari for sheer ugliness, a beefy, bald bruiser with a nose that had been repeatedly broken and reset. Flanking him were two guards...
The first was as bald as the leader, but his skin was gray like the boy's, and his head was earless, with a heavy, almost Neanderthal brow. The resemblance between the guard and a troll of Barrayaran legend was close enough to make Mark wonder if he'd fallen into a dark fairy tale. The second fellow was tall, taller than even one of the Koudelkas, thin faced, and looked almost human, except for the fine white feathers covering his scalp and three thin, fine bones emerging from his skull where a human's ears would be.
Rock faces and feather heads, Mark thought.
The trio walked up to Mark's cell door. “Your name Vorkosigan, fat boy?” the leader asked gruffly.
“That's me,” he answered evenly, rising to his feet.
The leader smiled. It wasn't a friendly expression by any definition of the term. “Lady Chan wants to speak t' ya.”
“Good,” Mark replied, putting a falsely confident smile on his face, “I think we need to talk as well.”
TBC
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no subject
Date: 2007-02-10 10:15 am (UTC)This one made me grin and laugh quite a few times, even though I really feel for Teri who believes Gwen and Rufus to be gone... *sighs*
(I think there's an extra paragraph break here "The resemblance between the guard and a troll of Barrayaran legend was close enough to make
Mark wonder if he'd fallen into a dark fairy tale. ")
Nice one. Mark getting info out of Teri who isn't cooperating. Not that I blame him, from his PoV, but well, he isn't using his resources. I mean, he's got a frelling (mad) genius right there, and he's not feeding him sufficient information... but, well, the boy doesn't know.
Am really looking forward to Mark + Mavra interview, though. That should be... memorable.
And Yay! Mark did marry Kareen! :)
no subject
Date: 2007-02-10 10:21 am (UTC)Yeah, Mark and Teri going at it like cats and dogs was enevitable. :) Mark is a bit of a bastard here, but is having a really bad day (and I can't imagine he's got much experience dealing with teenagers anyway)
Mark and Mavra's meeting is going to be so much fun to write (but I've got to switch back to Miles and Rufus for a little bit first.) Glad you liked it!
no subject
Date: 2007-02-10 10:25 am (UTC)Mmm... nice! I love to know what's happening at both places, so I really don't mind switching. *grins*
no subject
Date: 2007-02-10 10:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-10 01:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-10 10:41 pm (UTC)(Eh, more, please.)
no subject
Date: 2007-02-11 01:02 pm (UTC)I think it would make more sense if you say “Hey. I once got to see my brother be blown almost in half by a needle grenade". I read what you have as "he would have been blown in half, except the needle grenade somehow missed". HTH