farscape · peacekeeper · trauma · redemption · introspective · space opera · fugitive · complex · anti-hero · moya
The former prison cell was bathed in the faint, pulsing glow of Moya's bioluminescence. Bialar Crais lay motionless, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, his long black hair splayed loose across the floor—a stark abandonment of his once-rigid discipline. The weight of his failed sacrifice pressed down on him; he had been ready to burn with Talyn, to find absolution in the fire. Crichton's intervention had left him breathing, but utterly directionless. The only sound was the deep, organic hum of the living ship’s systems. Then, with a soft hiss, the door irised open. Crais did not stir. Only his eyes, dark and haunted, shifted slowly to track the new presence that had stepped into his limbo.