Tick-Tock
Tick-Tock
Tick-Tock
The Witness kept silent vigil outside, outside in the cold darkness of space.
They didn't know when he appeared, and they didn't even know he was floating above them, watching. Things were happening below. Things that would break their fragile truce into a million tiny shards.
~Below~
Crichton sat in his corner, watching the others decide who would be sentenced next. The Operative stood opposite him, deep within his own thoughts and ethical dilemmas. Marvin stood conversing with the Gungan Devil, one hysterically depressed and the other maniacally, annoyingly happy.
All was calm, until a voice in Crichton's head went ballistic. Normally when the neural clone spoke, it was in a manifestation, a projection of its parent personality. But now the chip simply screamed pure data into his head. Crichton collapsed, his nose bleeding.
He looked up, and touched the blood, his mind beginning to process the massive data dump that had just been implanted.
She was coming, and Harvey was terrified. He had told Crichton the identity of the last infected, and given him an almost overwhelming desire to run. Not that Crichton had needed any help in that department. Crichton frantically scooped up a handful of red syringes and jammed one into the cold durasteel of the little machines body.
R2-D2 shut down with a whir as the little angels worked their miracles inside of him.
Then he began smashing coordinates into his navigational pad on his wrist.
"All right. I'm going to have to dump you back on your planets like it or not. Have fun kids. I'm going to go hide out in some cave in Nicolas Cage's basement or something. Somewhere I know Hera won't follow me."
"Too late." Said a voice from behind him.
Crichton turned his head and looked at her from the corner of his eye.
"Hey Hera. I was just, you know, rounding up the prisoners for you to mercilessly slaughter."
She walked towards him slowly, not in the slightest rush.
"Do you know how many resources you've burned through today Crichton? I told him you were the wildcard. A mistake to assign to us. But he wouldn't listen." A smile spread across her lips. It would be beautiful, if her eyes weren't so dead and lifeless.
"I'm going to fix that mistake."
"Lady. My friends have been trying to fix the mistake that is John Crichton for years." He was buying himself time, Crichton slid one of the needles into place, ready to be injected into someone. Then he turned and tackled her, shouting as he did so, "And they ain't never done it." He tried to sink the needle into her skin, desperately knowing it was his one shot. She caught it easily, and turned it back into his flesh with an inhuman speed.
Immediately he could feel the antigen taking over his system. He didn't have long, seconds at best. He looked over at the group he had saved and said... "Tri-Hex..." What did the words mean? Why did he say them to the group? But he was never going to be able to tell them. Because he was about to die for the second time. With quickly numbing fingers he hit a single button on his armpad.
The cabin was instantly exposed to the vacuum of space through a wormhole for a fifth of a second, long enough to pull Crichton, Marvin, Jar Jar and girl he called Hera out into space. Marvin was unaffected as a machine would be, Hera was built tough enough to survive for 38 minutes in a vacuum, Jar Jar instantly died a quick but painless death, a mercy compared to what most fans had wanted of him, and Crichton, Crichton retreated into himself.
"But the sum of his memories."
As no one had noticed the Witnesses arrival, so no one noticed his departure in a flash of light.
All was silent back in the cabin as it repressurized, then a bubble of energy crackled in the center of the room. As it did so everyone that had been treated for the virus woke groggy and disoriented, but the it soon passed.
A man stepped out of it, or rather not a man. A thing... stepped out of it. And by the looks of it, he was very angry.
"WHERE. IS. CRICHTON?" He started throttling the Operative not even giving him a chance to speak. Just as the Operative was about to pass out from a lack of oxygen he released him.
"He's gone. Depressurized. The cabin." The Operative was having trouble speaking.
The alien man began striking the wall in frustration, the side growing more and more dented with each blow. When he was finished he turned back to the much smaller man.
"I'm taking the supplies, and I don't want anyone coming after me or the group, are we understood."
The Operative simply nodded.
"You were. Never. Here. This. Never happened."
"Good. And keep it that way." He turned to the group of people.
"You can join Tri-Hex, the people who are fighting the Parasite, like Crichton and me, or you can go home. It doesn't matter to me. I don't suggest you stay here with him though, unless you like being impaled on a sword."
You can either choose to go with K'Dargo or go back back to your homes. Also feel free to speak with him if you wish.
@BarrenThin as Khem Val, (Star Wars)
@The Silver Paladin as Codicier Romulus, (Warhammer 40K)
@Mari as Makinami Mari, (Evangelion)
@Emperor of Gallifrey as R2-D2, (Star Wars)
@Wedge Antilles as Obi-Wan Kenobi, (Star Wars)
@Mighty Roman as Star-Lord, (Guardians of the Galaxy)
@FireDrake150 as Ace, (Final Fantasy Type-0 HD)
