theatrical_muse June challenge
theatrical_muse* topic: Write a ficlet inspired by the word blue.
Color has great significance in Peacekeeper hierarchy. Red reminds us of the blood sacrifice of our ancestors, our comrades in arms. We live and fight and die, if we're lucky, bathed in blood. Death in battle is the honorable end every Peacekeeper hopes to deserve.
Black is sober, serious. Black is practical. Black allows soldier and assassin, officer and disruptor, camouflage in shadow and the dark of nightfall.
Black is the color of space where we are born and bred.
I've seen green. Some planets have green vegetation, and the planetary recreations aboard any Peacekeeper Command Carrier will have countless scenarios available for training. Green grass, red sand, the grey-brown muck of Hynerian bogs... yellow sun and blue skies.
Before John Crichton and I crossed paths, blue was the color of Delvian anarchists and Nebari blood. The Blue Moon of Delvia sheltered an entire universe in rebellion, a dire threat of possibilities that had to be crushed. And even now, while a generation of Nebari youths bleed out in puddles of indigo, the Establishment retains its iron grip of power--perilous allies, formidable foes.
Blue is the color of danger. I know that more than ever, now.
John's eyes are blue. When he is caught up in the allure of a wormhole, lost in the hazardous temptation of limitless power, I see in them memory of the despair and misery that overwhelmed him, when the neural clone asserted its control and John lost himself. I see the pale shade of Einstein's bleak ice world. I see my own hand in spasm, as the water closed over my head and I drowned.
Wormholes are blue. They glow with an eerie cerulean radiance, call to John in seductive whispers that only he can hear... they make him false promises. He struggles to understand them not so he can wield their power, but to protect himself from it. But he is a harbinger, and he is hunted, and he cannot look away from the light.
One man, utterly alone in the universe. John Crichton has changed everything.
Peacekeepers still don't wear blue... but now, they fear it.
*Aeryn is no longer a member of T_M. However, the topic appeals, so I include the community link to properly credit the source of inspiration. :)
Color has great significance in Peacekeeper hierarchy. Red reminds us of the blood sacrifice of our ancestors, our comrades in arms. We live and fight and die, if we're lucky, bathed in blood. Death in battle is the honorable end every Peacekeeper hopes to deserve.
Black is sober, serious. Black is practical. Black allows soldier and assassin, officer and disruptor, camouflage in shadow and the dark of nightfall.
Black is the color of space where we are born and bred.
I've seen green. Some planets have green vegetation, and the planetary recreations aboard any Peacekeeper Command Carrier will have countless scenarios available for training. Green grass, red sand, the grey-brown muck of Hynerian bogs... yellow sun and blue skies.
Before John Crichton and I crossed paths, blue was the color of Delvian anarchists and Nebari blood. The Blue Moon of Delvia sheltered an entire universe in rebellion, a dire threat of possibilities that had to be crushed. And even now, while a generation of Nebari youths bleed out in puddles of indigo, the Establishment retains its iron grip of power--perilous allies, formidable foes.
Blue is the color of danger. I know that more than ever, now.
John's eyes are blue. When he is caught up in the allure of a wormhole, lost in the hazardous temptation of limitless power, I see in them memory of the despair and misery that overwhelmed him, when the neural clone asserted its control and John lost himself. I see the pale shade of Einstein's bleak ice world. I see my own hand in spasm, as the water closed over my head and I drowned.
Wormholes are blue. They glow with an eerie cerulean radiance, call to John in seductive whispers that only he can hear... they make him false promises. He struggles to understand them not so he can wield their power, but to protect himself from it. But he is a harbinger, and he is hunted, and he cannot look away from the light.
One man, utterly alone in the universe. John Crichton has changed everything.
Peacekeepers still don't wear blue... but now, they fear it.
*Aeryn is no longer a member of T_M. However, the topic appeals, so I include the community link to properly credit the source of inspiration. :)