Maybe It's Not Too Late After All

[RedPiggy]

Chapter 19

(201PK)

Off in a far-away corner of the universe, on a planet with three dying suns, there lay a broken castle. In the heart of the crumbling building was a dismal throne made of onyx, a testament to the ruler’s solid darkness.

Maldis laughed like he did every morning, when he entered into his usual ritual of circumnavigating the deep vent where the Crystal once stood, and now was only a fleeting dusting of debris. For ten-thousand cycles, Maldis felt the rush of uninterrupted fear and devastation. On some days, he could only thrash around on his bed ecstatically, laughing and writhing, drunk with power.

A small, brown, furry-eyebrowed creature, dressed in tattered rags, appeared and nodded briefly, holding a small tray of various vials. His voice was old and weary, but there was a determined defiance all the same. “Your usual, Lord Maldis,” he announced, barely able to hide his contempt.

Maldis approached and tore the tray from the creature’s hands, nearly shoving him backwards. “You are remarkably stubborn, Dominar,” he noted with a grim smirk. “I will wipe that defiance from your voice.”

The Dominar, or former Dominar, chuckled briefly. “It’s been a thousand cycles since the Halosians overtook Hyneria,” he replied. “What’s another solar day?” He wiped his small toad-like nose. “I’m a very patient lifeform.”

Maldis stared at the vials in his hands. His tone became more thoughtful. “What do you fear most, Dominar?” He loved to rub the creature’s loss of status in his face at every opportunity.

“Seeing you naked.”

Maldis quickly imbibed a few vials’ worth of liquid. There was no longer very much to eat on Thra. Even with all his power, he had taken to using an old Skeksis method of prolonging vitality: liquefying the living essences of whatever beings had been captured by the Halosians, a race that proved quite stubborn in its avoidance of utter elimination from the universe. He had tried to kill Yoz and those who came to find her, but as soon as they found themselves on Thra, it was as though they had new life, even after the Crystal was destroyed, and they soon learned to hide in a wide rocky valley several days’ walk from the castle. It was with begrudging necessity that Maldis occasionally traded with the Halosians. They would bring him liquefied essence if he could terrorize planets into sending inhabitants to Thra. His reach seemed to extend to all corners of the universe, but yet, irritatingly, he found his power waned to nearly nothing if he left the castle, much less ventured off-world. Still, while he expected defiance from someone like Jareth, beaten dog as he was, this vile little leathery amphibian frustrated him to the point of fascination. “I’ve taken everything from you, Dominar. Your planet is nearly bereft of Hynerians. Your rule is nonexistent. You are but my mere slave. How can you protest your destiny so?”

The former Dominar smirked, a glint in his eye. “Perhaps I’m not the one needing the nightmare, ‘Lord Maldis’,” he noted in a sarcastic, mocking tone. “After all, you’re blessed with everything,” he continued, relishing what he planned on saying next, “but the certainty of your victory.” He chuckled again. “I can see it in your eyes: you aren’t without fear, yourself.”

Maldis wanted to crush his tiny head.

Yet, all he could do was sigh and turn away. His voice remained pensive. “Rygel … perhaps you are right. Perhaps your role is to remind me of my fears.” He laughed, doubling over, suddenly flinging the tray back at the Hynerian slave. His voice was once again haughty and confident. “Ungrateful swine! Putrid toad! I am the living embodiment of darkness! There is no more light in the world, or in the universe!” He swept his arms in huge arcs. “See the wonders I have created! I have rebuilt this planet from the ground up, drenching it in the dreariness it hasn’t seen for over 60 million cycles!”

“And you haven’t had a frelling banquet in several centuries,” Rygel noted with a smirk and a nod. “You’re reduced to begging for basic sustenance.” His tone became far more belligerent and mocking, a sneer becoming nearly permanent on his face. “While there are still three suns that illuminate this ‘yave of the yuvo’ rock out in the middle of nowhere, and all the stars still dominate even the darkest skies,” he paused, relishing his momentum, “and … I … still … want … you … dead.”

<><><>

Yoz, a Halosian who really shouldn’t even be alive by now, sat in the center of a large sand drawing in the middle of a crevice, surrounded by staggeringly high cliffs of sheer rock. It had taken over a hundred cycles to come up with enough equipment to summon the other Halosians.

Now, after that pathetic creature took her to this world, she was leader of several hundred.

A relatively chubby Halosian, dressed uncharacteristically in brightly-hued robes, nodded as he approached. The newly healed Halosians were not Skekses, but now that they no longer seemed ready to decompose at any moment, the similarities became ever more apparent. He bowed slightly. “Suns … almost ready … to join,” he noted. Despite the fact their bodies were nearly back to their original complete state, they still tended to speak sporadically, as though their brains could not comprehend the fact they were no longer struggling for air.

Yoz snorted, pawing at the sand drawing until it transformed into a smear on the ground. “Zok … keeper of past … ignores Yoz’ rule.”

Zok, born on Thra in the time since Yoz was taken there, named himself in honor of a Skeksis ritual-master. He was abnormally diplomatic, a trait usually described by what little documentation they had found as belonging to a Skeksis named SkekSil. “Zok cares deeply for Yoz rule,” he blurted out, anxious to pacify her. She was the eldest of the Halosians on Thra, and so demanded complete respect. “We have history … this planet Thra … home to us … not sniveling aliens with scruffy white hair.”

Yoz sighed and looked up. The suns were getting closer together in the sky. “Suns meet … nothing happens.”

Zok shook his head, screeching, “Of course something happens! Suns meet … Thra ours!”

“Need more,” Yoz replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Crystal? Crystal not matter!”

“Not whole Crystal … no Thra power!” Yoz retorted angrily, banging her fist on the ground. “Halosian … not enough! Spirits of Thra … speak to Yoz … tell me things … need more!”

Zok shifted his weight uncomfortably. If he continued to protest, Yoz might have him killed. He bowed deeply, his wings spread low over his back. “Yoz is wise … listen to Thra … give Thra to Halosians.”

Yoz sneered, but nodded, choosing not to delve further into rebuke. Her voice was much calmer, almost motherly. “Eidelons … like alien now on Thra … but Eidelons have power … power to heal and make peace. Thra say … ‘Find Eidelons’. Together, Halsoian and Eidelon remake Crystal. Thra ours. Universe ours. Alien conquered.”

Zok nodded, genuinely respectful. Yoz was the smartest of the Halosians. Halosian Code demanded the desire to evolve.

The problem was, if you were Leader, what more was there to evolve into?

Yoz seemed to have found an answer: join and be more.

 

[The Count]

This chapter be good.
We meet Maldiz and Yaz again after the initial splitting of the crystal.
Good ol' snarky Rigel XVI, though sarcastic at most times, he can help put things into perspective.
*Notices the mention of SkekZill,
It's interesting to find how the Halocians have changed since the rewriting of the universe... And it seems Yaz might have an inkling of what's to come as she intunes the happening of the joining of the triple suns.
Thank ye, the update is most appreciated on this morning.

 

[RedPiggy]

Yeah, I decided I wanted the readers to remember who they were, LOL.

I've been dying to write Rygel. He seems so fun to write. I realized that his characterization as someone who could withstand most forms of mind control and such might allow him some resistance to what has happened in the universe.

Hey, I can't resist a Chamby shout-out, LOL.

The Halosians are gradually becoming more positive, or at least as positive as they can be, similar to how I view Chamberlains' personality, as the nicest of the nasty bunch. With the Mystics not an issue here, the Halosians are hiding out in their hang-out and absorbing some of their ways (note the sand drawing). However, to be this era's complete form, the Halosians must realize they are also half-beings and must join with this era's "good" side of themselves. While the Skekses feared joining as a loss of power, the Halosian focus on evolution demands that they even risk their identities if it meant grabbing more power. I see bits of this in Chamberlain, who, in my mind at least, saw an alliance with the Gelflings as a means of gaining power. I realize that hardly anyone sees him that way, but I see no real evidence that he was just using Jen and Kira. I think he genuinely thought "out of the box" as it were. He couldn't best the Garthim-master with brute force, so he was gonna try a sneakier, more intelligent approach.

 

[The Count]

Exactly, can't overpower the strongman with just strength... So that's where the real villain shines, showing off his wits to forge semi-alliances to better his own position, even if others think him/her a traitor to their own name.
Looking forward to whatever's next, and the one last member missing to complete the Farscape gang.

 

[RedPiggy]

Chapter 20

(201PK)

The two elderly humanoid males sighed and rolled their eyes at the immensely long dining table. One was about a head taller than the other, with mostly black hair with some gray. He had thick jowls and a pronounced cleft chin. He stared at Scorpius, wide-eyed.

Scorpius glanced at him sharply. “Your opinion is greatly appreciated, good sir.”

The taller one gulped and adjusted his collar. “I … I mean,” he replied in a deep but aged voice, “I guess anything’s possible.”

“If you’re senile,” grumbled the shorter one. He had squinty eyes and wrinkles all over his face. His hair was white as snow. He cut a glance to Scorpius. He and his former military friend had served the Peacekeepers for nearly three dozen cycles. They could very well have had their uniforms decorated with more medals than would fit, but after a few battles here and there, they found their true calling as strategists, sitting in their chairs and analyzing behaviors from above. They were rather irritating to Peacekeeper mercenaries, who didn’t like being criticized. Most in the intelligence business, however, enjoyed conversing with them.

They were among the very few who could meet the glare of Scorpius without wetting their pants.

The white-haired one continued, “There’s no evidence whatsoever to suggest that this proposal is anything but ludicrous!”

Scorpius smiled and leaned back, gently resting his elbows on the table, tapping his clasped hands against his chin. “The universe is filled with strange things, Waldorf,” he noted with amusement. “After all, there was a time, was there not, when there were no such things as you people on this little backwater of a world?”

Waldorf scoffed. “You’re not exactly a senior citizen, you know. What makes you think you know anything about how Muppets came to be?”

The darker haired one slammed his palm on the table, a dark glare piercing into Waldorf. “And I suppose you have first-hand knowledge?”

Waldorf chuckled. “I was watching my grandkids before you drank from a nipple, Statler.”

Statler harrumphed and looked at Scorpius. “Exactly what’s the point of being so interested in the past, Scorpius? It’s not like a bunch of dead guys are useful.”

Scorpius wore a thoughtful expression, raising a single index finger. “Ah, but I don’t see that to be the case at all. If you were to find a multitude of dead bodies, their blood vessels strung out of the flesh and sucked dry, without meeting it you would be aware of the presence of a Halosian.”

“We’re getting too old to trade old war stories, Scorpius,” Waldorf retorted, crossing his arms indignantly. “Besides, what you’re looking for doesn’t exist anymore.”

Scorpius’ face brightened, a grin tightly cracking across his scarred face. “And what would that be, gentlemen?”

Statler shrugged, slowly stirring a drink in front of him. “Let’s face facts: the Scarrans, like the Halosians, want nothing more than to become more powerful. Peacekeepers rest on their achievements and must hire mercenaries when things get too tough. By relying so heavily on technology, their own bodies have ceased to diversify.”

Waldorf nodded, jabbing an index finger toward the floor. “Meanwhile, there are worlds with either a few species here and there in a vast wasteland, or with innumerable species that fill nearly every ecological niche in a highly specialized manner.” He sighed and ate a piece of bread. “It sounds like you’re arguing that certain worlds have an abundance of some kind of life force that drives evolution and provides an infinite amount of opportunities.”

Statler continued, “And you apparently have decided that this world is at the heart of it all, or at least a major source. This cockamamie theory of yours requires a belief that this world is at all important, and quite frankly, we don’t see it.”

Scorpius nodded pensively and examined a crystal goblet in his hands. “Then your recommendation is that I call off this particular mission?”

“If you have any sense,” Statler replied.

Scorpius continued to stare into the crystal goblet’s reflection. His face was distorted to the extent that, if he took off his black leather mask, he might even appear attractive. “Have you never wondered what would happen had you taken the right door instead of the left?”

“There’s no room for doubt, Scorpius,” Waldorf noted somewhat sympathetically. “Things either are or they aren’t. There are no potentials, only what is going to happen.”

“Yeah, it’s all in the script,” Statler shot back with a chuckle.

Scorpius sighed and stood, turning his back to his comrades. He began to pace the room, his hands clasped behind his back. “You see, gentlemen, I simply cannot let this go. Captain Sun also had reservations, but I think this planet is more than just the source of Sebacean genetics. When the Eidelons abducted humans from this world, the humans, according to legend, were little more than dirt-throwing mammals with a penchant for trouble-making.”

“With all due respect,” Statler began with a smirk, “Sebaceans are just trading dirt clods for bigger sticks.”

Scorpius nodded and stopped. “Agreed. Whatever physical prowess given to Sebaceans, it is quite clear there are some drawbacks, such as the intolerance to heat. However, if Sebaceans were crossed with the original species, a common ancestor known to both human, Muppet, and Sebacean, perhaps a being capable of destroying the Scarrans would appear.”



“Or you’d just get a mush of flesh,” Waldorf commented. “Besides, why bring Muppets into it?”

Scorpius glanced at Statler, who sighed. “Because Muppets can take a lot and come back the next solar day,” Statler noted, staring at the table. “We don’t age as quickly as non-Muppets do.” He shot a dark glance at Scorpius. “You’re trying to create a nearly immortal powerhouse.”

Scorpius smiled.

“Have you ever heard of the lifespans of ancient humans? It’s downright embarrassing,” Waldorf asked curtly. “They were lucky to make it past puberty.”

“And most didn’t get as far as that if they had the gall to ask the partner out to a dance,” Statler chuckled.

“Fortunately we had the good sense to be the wallflowers.”

“Yeah, you tend to lose interest in the mating game when it always feels like there’s an entire arm shoved up –.”

“Okay, I think my brains just melted out of my nose,” Waldorf shot back, grunting with disgust.

Scorpius charged at the table and slammed a small metallic pyramidal object on the table, making the two elderly ones shudder. Scorpius’ smile and turned into a twisted growl of fury. “For all your talk of how pointless this world was, explain the massive levels of radiation noted from millions of cycles ago!”

Statler and Waldorf looked at each other.

Scorpius tapped the object and a hologram hovered over their heads, showing a globe with multiple red spots all over. He waved at the spots. “These are hotspots of radiation, noted to coincide with massive volcanoes.” He clicked on the object with his free hand and the image changed to a jagged line with deep spikes and valleys. “Here we see, also, evidence of warped spacetime. When a leviathan uses its starburst ability, shockwaves of space and time are created, permitting a limited prediction of course. A leviathan can only reach faster-than-light speeds, however. It cannot pierce spacetime itself. It’s rather like lubricating a torpedo bay. The torpedo will exit faster, but it will not just appear beside the target instantaneously.”

“That’s what you said,” Statler commented to Waldorf.

“My point, gentlemen, is that clearly there was a great source of energy at an ancient point in time. It affected the entire planet, perhaps driving evolution speeds past the breaking point. Now, clearly life still continued after such a remarkable event, so the question remains: what kind of life can survive such a devastating change?”

 

[The Count]

Huh? Oh, finally, there's actually some action here at MC. Been wondering what happened to everybody today. Maybe they're exercising their grouchlyness at Facebook's ridiculous inane changes.

That said... There's much to love here in this chapter.

and as tactician partners of Scorpius, didn't see that coming.
The inuendos at dating, reproduction, and aging had me chuckling at every instance.
And I detected a hint of well-aimed sarcasm at the geocentricity of ancient churchly sciences. You know... Galileo came up with a theory, and he was strongly urged by the scientific community of his day of the Pope and his cardinals to change it... Or go straight to Heck. Literally.
Originally by Diva's Champ: “Things either are or they aren’t. There are no potentials, only what is
going to happen." “Yeah, it’s all in the script,” Statler shot back with a chuckle.
Hmm... Moulin would probably disagree with that sentiment from constantly reading her fave fic.
Then there's the event that accelerated species evolution speeds, which leads me to think it was when the pedestrian dinosaurs got extincted. Not our Dinosaurs of course, they're in a lush forestal community where Robbie's high chief elder unless that's been screwed with in this AU.
Finally... Scorpius trying to create an immortal powerhouse, not only capable of defeating the Scarens but being all-powerful to maybe then take on the universal king. Obviously, we know who Scorpius plans to be the one immortal resulting from his plans of merging human and Muppet and Sebacean genetics, but I won't spoil that for others.

 

[RedPiggy]

I had been headdesking quite awhile trying to figure out where I wanted to put our favorite critics. This was my solution, LOL.

Geocentrism? Uh, yeah, that was totally intentional....

I'm still working on how to deal with Dinosaurs in this alternate universe. The universe fractured at 10000 BC, so it shouldn't have to affect 60 million years ago. However, in the original timeline, Mizumi was sent back from 2011 to around 60 million years ago by Cantus, Convincing John, and Mokey. The problem is, this is 2001 using our calendar (and 201 using the Peacekeeper-run Earth's calendar). Mizumi is croaked. If she's dead she can't go back in time, right? This would affect everything that happened to the denizens of Sinclair City at the time Mizumi caught up with them. Baby might not have been killed. New Pangaea can't time travel to the Underground. And it might not even matter, since I don't really address in Comeback King what happened after Sinclair City disappeared. It may not have affected the rest of the timeline at all until 10000 BC.

Or maybe it did, LOL. Scorpius is going to learn some stuff, fer sure, rully.

edit: Oh, you know who Scorpius is going to create? Sweet ... can you tell me? LOL

 

[The Count]

Ha... Erm, isn't it himself? Throughout that latter Season 3 and 4 run, or what my fading swiss cheesed memory remembers of it, Scorpius was seeking power for two reasons: defeat the Scarens; and empower himself as lord of the universe thereby reversing what was the implied slight of his backstory growing up as half Cebasean and half Scaren. So if he's going to muck about with dino-Muppet-Cebasean/human DNA to create an immortal powerhouse, it makes most sense to me that it'd be him himself who'd be injected with the combo. Then again, you do put yourself at risk in executing such a power grab, look up Hodi Jones in the Onepiece Wiki as an example.

Yeah, Mizumi's gotta be careful as to how she brakes Doc Brown's rule of meeting yourself when going back in time like that. But seeing as how Emett and Marty broke that rule themselves and had positive results, meh, to each their own.

If you have a creative roadblock with the fic, you know you can contact me and even if it's just putting forth your outline points I find that sometimes more than not helps you untangle any plotbunnies.
Glad you're okay and take care. *Hugs.

 

[RedPiggy]

Ah, I see what you mean about Scorpius. However, when he manages to get involved in that era over the next coupla chapters or so (still working on the pacing since the finale is fast approaching), he might find out that Scarrans have a leg up on him.

I'm feeling better in terms of anxiety, but I don't know if I'm just more relaxed or I've snapped, LOL. Right now we're sick. The front door's lock broke, the garage door spring broke ... they're fixed now, but the good part is that my home makeover is practically done. All that's left is a couple of decorations to finish the look and next year I'm gonna start replacing the water heater and the dryer an' stuff with energy efficient stuff. And I need new carpet. Found a few more holes from Bear's teething days, LOL.

 

[The Count]

Good to know. We're still dealing with our situations here as well. Hopefully things can get back to normal.
And I'm just gonna try to chill out with some MCR now, there's a forum member who's making a complete nuisance out of himself.

*Mellows with Muppet music.