Plain of Sorrows

Author: Milady Dragon

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, but I sure bang them up a bit!

Author's notes: You might have guessed that we're coming up to the end, and you'd be right. Just a short ways to go. I hope you won't be disappointed. In this chapter, dialogue is handled a little differently from before. As you read this, you'll see why. This chapter is also somewhat longer than what I've been writing, too…


Chapter Forty

Morgan guessed this was how the ghosts felt; only his body was still up and walking around.

He could see everything going on around him, and he watched with a sick fascination as his body moved into the crashed ship. True was with him, her own incorporeal form watching with him.

He really hoped he hadn't made a really big mistake, because if he had then he'd be responsible for both of them being royally screwed.

Morgan had been the one to convince her to give up her hold on her body, and to let her own evil voice take complete control. An instinct Morgan would never be able to name had whispered to him that this was the way to go; as strange as it sounded, giving up was the road to winning this. Continually fighting wasn't the way. Morgan realized he could never gather enough strength to force the voice out.

That was, if he had a body to go back to, once this was all over. Their voices were running them into sheer exhaustion, and the atmosphere on board the wrecked ship was apparently not that that great, judging from how their bodies were reacting. Maybe tiring them out was the way to go about this, but Morgan wasn't so sure. He and True would need help…

And that meant Danziger's cat-people.

He could see them now; in fact, the cat-people could see them, as well. The first one they'd seen – a large-bellied male with white fur and blue eyes – had bowed to them as they'd approached. He looked very sad to see them.

The gesture oddly touched Morgan; he returned the bow, out of respect. These people had been through so much, and yet they were willing to go through even more in order to somehow help. He thought back on all those bureaucrats he'd dealt with on the Stations, coming to the conclusion that not a one would have lifted a hand to help either of them. True was a drone's daughter, and would be doubly damned in their eyes. And in Morgan's case…well, there was always someone just below him on the corporate ladder, waiting to make a move.

He might be in trouble now, but at least he knew there would be someone around to do what needed to be done to get them out of this situation.

G889 might be a shit hole, but Morgan knew where he stood with his fellow colonists.

It really pissed him off that the voice had used his own displeasure with the way things were going to take control. It had known exactly what to say, and how to manipulate him into getting what it wanted. It made Morgan sick to admit it, to acknowledge that it had pulled up his own insecurities and unhappiness to make him do what it wanted.

He wondered vaguely what her own voice had brought up for True. The girl wasn't talking about it. Not that he could blame her, of course.

"Morgan Martin. True Danziger."

They both stopped at the soft calling of their names. Another of the cat-people stood there, her golden eyes practically snapping in anger. If Morgan had to guess, he would've said she was about Bess's age, or a little older. She had multi-colored fur, in hues of brown, white, and cream.

And she bowed to them, just like the other cat-person had.

"I am C'rrownan," she continued. "We are sorry that you have been brought into this."

"It's…okay." Morgan glanced past the woman, toward where their former bodies were making their way deeper into the ship.

"Is my dad here?' True asked, her voice a little high.

"He is in the engine room, completing what needs to be done to end this."

"Is he really going to blow up the ship?" Morgan asked.

"Yes, Morgan Martin. That is the plan."

"This is your home though, isn't it?" True asked.

C'rrownan's eyes glittered. "There is nothing that can be done. This must end, no matter what may happen to us."

Morgan started. "What could happen? I mean…pardon me, but you're dead, right?"

"We are. However, destroying the ship might very well banish us, as well as the Changed."

"And you're willing to risk that?" Morgan was flatly in awe of them at that moment.

The woman nodded. "We are. This has gone on long enough." She motioned them forward. "Please, come with me. And know that we will fight to return your bodies to you."

"Thank you." They fell into step with C'rrownan, as the cat-woman led them forward.

"It is the least we can do, Morgan Martin."

"Please, you can call me Morgan."

She smiled. "I would be honored."

They went on, passing a two more cat-people on the way. They joined the trio, padding along behind silently. Morgan knew they were there, however, and was comforted by their presence.

The enormous doors appeared out of the darkness. They were cracked open, but that didn't deter them; like the ghosts they were, they simply passed through them like shadows.

Morgan was stunned by the scale of the engine room. It was quite possibly the largest chamber he'd ever set foot in, and it was impressive despite the fact that he had no clue what all the equipment was for. True did, though, judging from her gasp of awe; Morgan was surprisingly glad that he didn't know anything.

"Dad!"

True moved past him, and Morgan followed her spirit form as it moved down the room toward one of the very few solid beings there: John Danziger was standing by a large panel, which actually had controls that glowed with a weak light. In that light Morgan could see just how much the engineer had been changed: his eyes shone fiercely, his lanky body held in near-perfect balance on the balls of his feet.

He must have heard her shout; Danziger turned, his eyes widening as he saw the noncorporeal form of his daughter heading in his direction.

Morgan knew the man must be very confused, since True was apparently standing in front of him, Morgan beside her.

Another cat-person moved to intercept her. He was tall, with dark fur – C'rrownan said his name was D'Lorrak, their lead engineer. Then she added that it was his daughter currently in control of True's body.

Morgan shivered. This was so not good…

You do not need to do this. It was Morgan's voice, although it seemed to be coming from the bottom of a hole.

Sure I do, Danziger retorted.

Even if it means the death of your own child?

Danziger's eyes flickered toward the possessed form of his daughter, then to the struggling ghost being held by D'Lorrak. "Do not listen to him, John," the engineer hissed. "He can do nothing to her, not without endangering his own in the process. True is safe with me."

The mechanic nodded slightly, acknowledging the cat-man's reply. Not buying it, buddy. I'm going to blow this ship, and it's going to trap you where you won't be able to take over anyone ever again.

You are a weak fool, the commander taunted. You think you can stop us?

I'm sure as hell gonna try, came the angry response.

"It is time," D'Lorrak spoke.

It was the signal the cats must have been waiting for. Morgan counted about ten in the room, and they all moved as one forward, forming a circle around the two possessed humans.

Danziger actually turned his back on the pair, obviously trusting his ghostly friends to handle them. He was working furiously at the panel, which began to glow more harshly.

Morgan moved with the ghosts. He could feel them; sense the emotions of the deceased aliens as they confronted their enemies. It was like being in the middle of a building storm.

Then True was beside him, her hand being held by the engineer, D'Lorrak. He was telling her to be strong, to not let the Changed get away. They would have to force them out of their chosen forms, and that would take all the bravery she could muster.

How hard was it for D'Lorrak to say those words, knowing it was his daughter he would be fighting against?

The voices that had usurped their bodies were obviously aware of them. The Changed stood together, eyeing the approaching group. They didn't seem afraid of them, and that worried Morgan.

You cannot stop us, the commander snarled.

"You truly think that, do you not?" D'Lorrak scoffed.

You are weak!

"If we are so weak," the engineer countered, "then why are you the ones hiding within your stolen bodies?"

The power the cats were generating raised gooseflesh along Morgan's non-existent arms. It was pure emotion, whipping around the engine room like a whirlwind. Every single one of them was concentrating on the pair in the middle of the circle, and Morgan felt his own frustration and fear adding to the mix.

"Do not be afraid, Morgan." C'rrownan's sharp voice brought his attention back from the brink.

"It's not for me," he denied. "It's for my wife."

C'rrownan actually laughed. "Then you must feel it, my friend! Nurture that fear into strength! We will strike soon, and you must be ready!"

He didn't answer. Morgan was doing as the woman bid, bringing up the fear, and his love, and tossing them into the maelstrom that was beginning to rage around them. C'rrownan's own anger – mirrored on his other side by D'Lorrak's – entwined around his consciousness like a deadly serpent; it was joined by True's emotions, and of all the ghosts in the room.

Then, as if every single one of them had heard the same signal, they struck.

At first, nothing seemed to be happening. The Changed stood in the eye of the storm, weathering it like ancient trees with roots sunk deep within the earth. Morgan's face stared back at him, and it was actually smiling.

Then Morgan noticed the air around True's form was wavering, as if the girl was standing within a heat haze. She began to jerk, and she screamed. Commander! Help me!

D'Lorrak took a step toward her. "He cannot help you, daughter. You have brought this onto yourself."

Wisps of something like smoke began to waft from the girl's mouth. Please, father! Have mercy!

"Did you have mercy when you sank your teeth into my throat?" D'Lorrak was growling in rage. Before Morgan's startled eyes, he changed; great gaping wounds appeared in his body, and he knew that these must be the injuries that had caused the cat's death. "You laughed, my heart…laughed as you murdered me. And to this day I do not know what I did to deserve this from you, my only child."

He reached out with broken hands, as if to hug the spirit that was oozing from True Danziger's body. I did love you, father, came the almost silent response.

"And that is why I do what I do now, sweet one. You did love me…but you stopped the moment that demon offered you something you wanted."

True's body crumpled to the deck as the last of the Changed one was pulled from her. Morgan caught a glimpse of a child-like face framed by black fur, before D'Lorrak twisted his hands as if he were wadding up a piece of paper, and the essence of his daughter was reduced to a glowing ball of smoke. "Your body is yours again once more, True Danziger. Let nothing take you from it again."

"I won't," she promised. And then her spirit was gone.

Now it was Morgan's turn.

The only problem was, the voice controlling him didn't seem to be getting any weaker. In fact, it appeared to be enjoying itself; Morgan's face smiled cruelly back at him. Do not think you will deal with me so easily.

The sense of power was just as strong, but it wasn't having any effect. Morgan's frustration grew. Just what did they have to do to get rid of it?

"They do not have to deal with you, father." The soft voice came from near Morgan's elbow, and it made him jump a little. "They simply have to keep you contained. The rest will be up to me."

He knew immediately that this was N'Merra, Danziger's cat-girl. She stood next to Morgan, tears glittering in her expressive green eyes. The man couldn't imagine what she'd been through, knowing that her own father had been the one responsible for all the death and destruction…

N'Merra stepped forward, into the circle of power the rest of her people – and Morgan himself – were still generating. It whipped her tail of hair around her face, and the pale dress blew up, revealing delicate feet and well-muscled legs. Morgan could hear Danziger calling True's name, then N'Merra's; D'Lorrak cautioned the other man to stay back, until everything was settled.

The power the cat-girl added to the circle was intense. The sadness filled the entire engine room, and tears prickled in Morgan's eyes in response. The whirlwind grew stronger, tugging at his essence like a magnet.

The commander of the Changed withstood the onslaught…in the beginning. But the horrible emotions N'Merra was exuding were taking their toll. The girl slowly regained the hideous wounds that had caused her death as she stood before the being that had once been her father.

The rest of the ghosts stepped closer, Morgan among them. His eyes flitted between N'Merra and his former body, watching for any sort of weakness in either one of them.

And then he saw it.

A thin, oily tendril of smoke began to seep from the cat-like eyes that had once been Morgan's own, normal ones. N'Merra moved forward again, and she was weeping even harder, although since she had no longer any need to breathe, it was done silently. Her good hand reached forward, sweeping through the smoke, as if it were some sort of eerie toy.

But she quickly regained her pristine, ghost-like appearance as the wisp became even more pronounced. She turned to look at Morgan. "Come, Morgan Martin," she urged. "Take back what is yours."

He stepped up beside her, his own hand reaching out to grasp the commander's ethereal strands. Morgan could feel it, as it slid through his fingers. Then, he tightened his grip and yanked.

A scream echoed through the chamber as the commander of the Changed was forcibly removed from Morgan's body. N'Merra helped him, hooking her claws into the mist that had once been her father and joining Morgan in extracting him from the form he'd stolen.

Do not do this! the voice screeched. You do not know what you give up!

"Actually, I do." Morgan ground his teeth and pulled again, harder. "I'm giving up the chance of losing the woman I love more than anything else in the entire universe!"

His body collapsed as the last of the commander slid free. N'Merra gathered up the smoky remains, twisting it around her dainty hands. "You may return now," she spoke quietly.

"Thank you," Morgan said, sincerely.

N'Merra looked up at him. She hadn't stopped crying, but the tears were less heavy. "You are a lucky man, Morgan Martin. You have friends, and a mate who loves you very much."

Morgan glanced over at Danziger; the man was standing on the periphery of the circle, his cat-like eyes squinted against the power it was still radiating. Okay, he and the mechanic didn't get along, but that didn't mean Morgan didn't respect him.

Then he looked back at the girl, who'd been dead for centuries. "I wish you had the same."

She smiled slightly, glancing at the cats gathered around her. "I do have friends. Please do not doubt that."

And Morgan didn't.

The emotions were dying out as the pull from his tangible form called for attention. He took one final look around, then let his spirit slip back to where it belonged.

His last sight, as his vision darkened, was of the sad form of N'Merra, and of the loyal people surrounding her.