Our Image
By Osiris-Ra
Summery: The beginning of what will be a deliberatly convoluted starcrossed epic chronicalling the escapades of Evil Thor and Replicarter.
Pairing: Thor/Carter Evil Thor/Replicarter
The reason for my madness: A special group of people at my favorite forum and perhaps my own sinister-ness. And the joy of Smor! Hallowed Are The Smors!
A lone voice repeated it's dying refrain, "This will be...and it will be... it will be..."
Even as his lips quivered from pain, the words never left them. They were his defiant fist thrust into the air. All that he had left to show for his actions.
She stared at him with throbbing, hot eyes. They were the last two left. Facing off at each other. She, once a person of confident composure, now a pathetic blob of a being, pretending to be strong and 'up to it' with her blood spattered face and dirt tosseled blonde hair, eyes that burned like fire. In this unfamiliar place, the smoke of a past thunderous battle made with never before seen weapons still lingered, hovering in the air, not yet ready to settle. It used to be a fresh foliage dotted quay, just nearbt a long, narrow strip of yellow beach which was met with the weakly lapping waves of the nearby Bay. She closed her eyes for a moment. To herself, it would be how everything would be remembered.
Footsteps crunched slowly towards her and with them, slowly, emerging from the fogged distance, a figure appeared. The figure was small and quite odd looking, not frightening, although it was less than human or not human at all. But to her it was terrifying.
The weapon was still clutched tightly in his clammy grey hands. He'd never let go. This was all that was between him and the fate of the universe. His unkind black eyes peered at her from under his brow.
She loathed his presence. She loathed how he kept coming at her. And she loathed the dirt caking her chilly, bare knees. Finally, he stopped and stood, shivering a little, glaring down at her. How comical, he thought. How out of the ordinary.
In the distance, several crudely built longboats anchored to pegs sticking up from a wooden bridge bobbed up and down on the gently rippling sea. Replicarter's eyes turned to them longingly.
"I'm no good at this." He said in a surprisingly gentle voice. "Maybe you could go first."
She gave him one of her misleadingly naive stares.
"Well? Aren't you going to say anything?"
He said again, his weapon carrying hand gently swinging up against his thigh like a metronome. It seemed as if the entire world was breathing to it's beat.
Replicarter returned her gaze to the shore.She remembered the peace and silence of the place. Bright and cheerful in the morning with a smell of the ocean and the slimy green weed that littered the shore. She recalled how she had enjoyed her time here, on this miserable planet that she'd been taught to hate. The air was now so clogged up by the smell of settling gas exhaust it wasn't recognizable by smell anymore - nor by sight.
He cocked the hammer of his weapon. Everything clicked. She flinched slightly. Damn him and his Macguyvering ways. She glared at the weapon in his hand.
Then he exploded.
"I didn't bring you to this world to kill you in this cowardly fashion, woman! Stand up! Stand up!"
Replicarter slowly pushed herself to her feet. Her hand twitched. She remembered how she'd ended Yu's life. That pathetic look of fear in his face as the sword entered his belly, slicing apart his vital organs and releasing his life blood. She smiled a little, but it quickly faded away, only too aware of her own possible fate. She tried so desperately, clenching her hand into a tight little ball, but they'd all abandoned her, every last one of the little buggers. Even her body refused to compute a cry for help to them for her. They didn't come for her anymore. The link was gone. If it would only come, she could kill him right now, if it would only come...
"Fancy this." He said with bitter sarcasm. "Replicarter. Savior of the Replicators, Conquerors of the Goa'uld empire. Fearless. Untouchable. Clever. You see how much pain there is? To be left alone...defenseless? This is all your doing, Replicarter. All of it. Just as it always has been of your kind. Always meddling where you aren't needed. Bothering, Murdering and Badgering until you get your way. Claiming others to be weaker when you are - to say the least - weakest in body and mind."
He paused briefly, staring contemptfully at her.
"You have no heart!" He shouted. "You have no compassion! You have no soul!"
She gritted her teeth, grimacing slightly, quietly imploding. He stopped. He saw the tear trickle down her cheek. She was surprised at her self. He slowly raised his free hand and traced along her chin and up to her cheek, wiping away the tear.
"You cry? You shed tears?"
There was a long silence. Then his laughter burst forth. It echoed across the area and stabbed at her like a thousand needles. She'd never felt this pain before.
"You shed your crocodile tears as much as you want, you'll get no sympathy from me. You're nothing but a worthless bag of inorganic data. Sadly it's taken your "brethren" this long to figure it out. And now they've left you, haven't they? All alone. Galactic domination, did you really think you were going to get away with it? Big dreams for small people. It's like fitting the ocean into one of those boats. Let me tell you something about yourself. You're a mistake. Just like He was."
Her eyes peirced up at him. He was playing her with a guilt trip. She knew it. She had no remorse. She didn't feel guilty. He'd deserved it...
He leaned in closer. "You're a mistake! The mistake with Fifth was that he was compassionate. He was capable of love. Emotion. Your mistake is that you are capable of emotion, and the inner greed that every Replicator has, but love - see I don't think you have that. It's a very dangerous mix, that is. Greedy Loveless Emotion. See, what you missed in your galactic conquest plan was that in order to run a show, you have to have a love, a passion for something in that show. The Goa'uld had a passion for people. They needed people to need them! The leaders of the Tauri had a passion for wealth. Power. What is your passion, Replicarter? Tell me of your great passion."
She was silent for a long while. Each time she felt she had an answer for this impudent midget it vanished into the air like her steamy breath. Her nostrils flared. Then she felt the cold muzzle of his weapon press against her chin.
"I thought that would be your answer." He looked up at her, and blinked his big black eyes almost innocently.
"I can't allow the universe to be created in your image. Because, as much as I enjoy your image, a world, is no world, without passion, Replicarter."
His slender grey finger tightened around the trigger. He felt her go tense then looked at her as her eyes shot to him.
"Wait.." She trembled slightly, an intense fear shooting through he body. "I-I-don't - I don't want to... to die."
Then the plea came, out of pure desperation.
" If - if Thor was in your position -"
"I'm not that Thor, Replicarter." His eyes glinted mischievously.
She spoke in quivering certainty now.
"I am created in Samantha Carters image. I hold joint possession to her memories and her feelings, and I can tell you, in utmost honesty, Thor, that she did have a purpose. And she did have a passion. And because of that, her passions, are my passions. Her evil...is my evil...and her love...is my love...could it not be the same...for...you?"
They shared an uncertain gaze. His hate came down to a gentle simmer, and his trigger finger relaxed. She could see it in his eyes, and she knew, with her shrew mind, that this could work for her. Her faith and strength was re-affirmed. She'd found his weakness. He was easily flattered, and most of all, weak.
She added:
"We both share the feelings of our originals. If this is so, then we have found our passion."
She rose her head, waiting for him to finish her sentence.
He said slowly,
"Each other."
A grin crept upon her lips.
"And with each other, we may re-create this world, in their image."
"No." He said abruptly. "Our image."