Let Fate Decide
Part 2
By Kyizi
Disclaimer: They belong to a man and a bunch of writers that are determined to leave me in fits of tears at the end of each series…they haven't failed yet! The only thing that belongs to me is the story and a few minor characters.
Rating: 12, I guess.
Spoilers: To be safe I'd say that every ep in S1, S2 and S3 would be in danger of being spoiled in this fic! Nothing is safe I tell you, nothing!
Notes: Okay, that's me just caught up on all the episodes of S3 which I have had on tape for a few weeks (can I just say OHMYGOD!), and, as with the S2 finale, I wasn't going to be happy until I'd written a continuation of the season finale! I've skipped ahead a few months, but anything you need to know was in the last ep, all I've done is take them a little further on their "missions" so to speak.
Feedback: As always, I love feedback. This fic is a particular favourite of mine, so be gentle! If you have some constructive criticism, I'd like to hear it, and if you enjoy it, don't hesitate to let me know!
Email: kyizi@hotmail.com
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D'Argo
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The sky faded into a dull pink and slowly merged with the fire of the fading sun. The land was peaceful, for what little there was of it. Each small settlement was sectioned off from the others, its own little life neatly divided into symmetrical blocks of harboured life. It held no joy within its cobbled streets and only hidden joy within the walls. The world was full of life and yet more desolate that a barren wasteland.
D'Argo growled and narrowed his eyes. This wasn't exactly the way he had hoped things would go. He had hoped to be done with everything by now, done and back on Moya…wherever the frell she was. It seemed almost amusing that the ship he had spent the last three years on, desperately trying to find some semblance of home, was the home he now was desperate to return to. The irony was not lost on him, although his patience was getting thinner by the second. The image of this moment that he had held in his mind until this point had been so vivid that any deviance from it was simply un-thought of. Everything rested on Macton dying, everything rested on that man paying for what he had done to Lo'Lann, his own sister…D'Argo's wife.
D'Argo closed his eyes as memories filled the darkness beyond sight. That day was etched into his mind, a bitter and twisted version of reality that was so painful it could only be real. His final image of his wife was pain, he could not rid himself of the sight. He wanted so much to remember her as the laughing woman that had carried his child, had loved and cherished them until her dying day. But those images were tainted by blood, covered in scars that would not heal.
Reaching into his chest, he pulled the image free, hoping that if she was before him, if she was there, then perhaps he could forget the death, perhaps for just a moment. The holographic image was a harsh and beautiful thing. It allowed him to see her, but he could not touch her, or hear her laugh, or hold her…he could never simply be hers.
Closing the image and returning it to his chest, he grunted aloud as if the action would make him focus. The house he was in still smelled of Sebecean's but he knew that it had not yet been deemed safe for anyone to return to live there. He was secure in his hiding, for now. He stared through the darkened window to the house across the street as he clutched at the small chip he had pulled into his hand. Scorpius had given it to him and D'Argo was very reluctant to be thankful to the man. True to his word, Macton had been precisely where the chip had said, everything was as the chip had said. Everything except one thing. Macton had a family.
His eyes travelled over the scene before him, taking in every detail. There was nothing special about this house compared to any other on the street. It was the street and the people in it that in themselves were special. They were all ex-soldiers and yet here they were. D'Argo had not thought it could be possible, he hadn't wanted it to be so. He had not thought it would be so easy to believe. But it was so difficult not to. She was Lo'Lann.
The little girl had been running through the trees in her yard, screeching as she chased a small furry animal that D'Argo recognised as an Y'lip. It was a Sebecean pet, often given to children of about her age. Jothee had had one. A small green one named Jinky. D'Argo laughed as he remembered the small creature prowling about the yard after Jothee. The idea of the creature was to establish an instinct in the child to chase something and never give up until it was within ones grasp. Something that had obviously worked wonders with the Peacekeepers D'Argo and his friends had been in contact with. The only problem with Jothee was that he'd been terrified of the small creature; claiming it wanted to suck his blood and eat him, therefore it had always ended up with Jinky chasing Jothee.
The image of his son as a child again made him forget what had happened when he had finally found him. D'Argo knew that he had put pressure on Jothee, wanted him to be perfect. But what Jothee hadn't seen was that being himself was enough to be perfect in his father's eyes. Of course sleeping with the woman that D'Argo had hoped to be his future mother in law hadn't helped matters. He missed him, missed the knowledge that he was nearby and safe. He would find his son again, that was one thing that D'Argo was certain of. He wouldn't allow anything else.
A scream alerted D'Argo to look back at the house. The girl had fallen and her foot was caught in the roots of an overgrown tree. He had to fight his instinct to go over to the girl, to pick her up and tell her that everything would be all right, that he would look after her. The door opened and as the man stepped out, D'Argo could not help the growl that escaped. Macton walked over to the girl and stood before her, looking exactly as D'Argo remembered. Anger bubbled within him, every fibre in his being was screaming that he take revenge, that he pull out his Qualta Blade and end this now.
"Get up."
D'Argo frowned, watching the man stand before his daughter. Macton made no move to help the girl, instead he watched over her, looked down on her as she tried to free her foot. It was a wonder to D'Argo that any civilian woman, Sebecean or not, would want to be with this man, want to raise his children. He wondered if she knew she was an assignment. He wondered if any of them knew how special they were meant to be.
He had read over the files, read them more times than he could remember. He knew them off by heart. The Peacekeeper's new wonderful idea was brought to light before his eyes, their new way to raise an army was painfully burned into his memory. It seemed that High Command had never been so sure that they would win this war with the Scarran's and had taken measures to 'boost' their numbers. Many hundreds of soldiers were assigned to marry civilians. To raise as many children as they could, train them as best they could, train them to kill, to hunt, to die in this war before the Scarrons killed them all.
"I said get up, Iy'Lann."
D'Argo felt his hatred bubble further. Macton had obviously taken his training seriously, he seemed be to treating the little girl just like the assignment she was. Iy'Lann, for her part, seemed to be resigned that she would not let her father down, that she would never let him down. She struggled with her foot until D'Argo could smell the blood assaulting his senses even from across the street. She was shredding the skin of her ankle in her attempt to free herself. She was crying now, not with noise, only tears but D'Argo watched her. He watched this miniature version of his wife harming herself just so that her father would be proud.
Just as he was about to step forward, anger getting the best of him, Iy'Lann freed herself from the root, falling backwards with the force as she did. She seemed to be smiling, happy with herself. She was free. She stared up at her father, as if expecting an ounce of praise but it never came.
"Right, go inside and clean up. We have early lessons tomorrow morning, I want you in bed."
"Yes, sir." The girl limped into the house looking dejected. Her small shoulders were now shaking with sobs but she still refused to make a sound. When she was gone, D'Argo moved for his blade, Macton may have a wife and children but from the way D'Argo had seen him treat them he did not have a family.
He pulled his blade up to shoulder length, and took aim, closing one eye, the effect seeming to magnify everything he was looking at and he paused. Macton looked proud. He looked proud of his little girl, he looked like a father. As if realising what he was doing, Macton straightened up and looked edgily at the street around him, as if checking to see if anyone had seen him, not realising that someone had. he smiled at himself again and looked back at his house, looking over it with a warm glow, as if he truly loved it and everyone in it.
It was then that D'Argo realised why Iy'Lann had expected her father's help. He realised that, had they not been out on the street in view of people, he probably would have helped her. Macton loved his family more than his assignment and D'Argo could not do it. He would not kill this father. He would not deprive another child of a family, he wouldn't deprive his niece of her family, of her father regardless of Macton's injury to his.
D'Argo sighed, feeling as if his revenge was lost. Lo'Lann may have been gone, but she lived on in that little girl and D'Argo would not stop that. Regardless of Macton's twisted reasons, D'Argo knew he had loved his sister, it was her choices that he had disliked; it was D'Argo that he had loathed. Still feeling confused, D'Argo sat in his chair, thinking of the little girl he had seen and thinking of the Macton he had seen. This had been a different man and D'Argo would not harm him, no matter how much he wanted to.
Sighing, D'Argo closed his eyes, remembering a time when he had been happy, when he had had a family. As he slipped into a dream of Lo'Lann, he made himself a silent promise to the little girl that he would keep her safe, even if that meant keeping her father alive. As the night slipped into the sky, D'Argo dreamed on, unaware that his had not been the only eyes watching Macton that day.
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END PART 2Feedback is always appreciated :)