The Guardians - Insight to the dark side

Posted on Sat Oct 10th, 2026 @ 12:20am by Patin & Captain Marie Batel

2,282 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Character Development
Location: Bajor

Approximately 12 Months Ago

The forest was still; the stars were now visible now the storm had cleared. Faro moved quietly, making her way to the compound she and Brin had built before the Reckoning. She was physically wounded, as was the being within her. They both needed time to heal, to regroup, and consider their next move. Her eyes flashed dull red as the being writhed in pain, slowly recovering its strength but feeling everything in the moment. Faro lay on the thin mattress, curled upon herself, and waited for it to pass.

For the first few days, Faro barely left the mattress. The wounds in her body were slowly beginning to close, but the pain remained consistent enough to keep her awake for long stretches throughout the night. The presence within her was healing too, and she could feel it moving restlessly beneath her thoughts, sometimes a dull ache, sometimes a sharp flare of pain that seemed to belong to neither of them and both of them at the same time.

She spent much of that time staring at the ceiling. Brin's absence filled the compound. She could see him everywhere. His things were exactly as he had left them. His sandals sat beside the door. A cup remained on the table, untouched since the morning before the battle. His cloak hung from its usual place, as though he might walk through the door at any moment and complain that she had been sitting around doing nothing.

Sometimes, mostly at night, she'd called out his name through sobs and tears. Then the memories flooded in. Those moments were the worst. Faro would close her eyes and see him again, standing beside her in the middle of the woods, moving with that familiar confidence she had trusted so completely. Then came the moment everything changed. The fight, the blood, and then the knowledge that he was gone.

She cried when she was alone. Sometimes quietly. Sometimes until she had nothing left. She hated herself for it afterward. She hated the weakness. She hated the pain. Most of all, she hated that the man she had loved most in this life was gone, while she was still here.

The anger came slowly. At first it was little things. A cup dropped from her hand. A door that stuck in its frame. A loose strap on one of Brin's old pieces of equipment. Each one seemed to carry the same insult.

The world kept on moving.

By the fourth day, Faro was strong enough to stand for several minutes at a time. She stood in the middle of the room and looked around the compound they had built together. Then she looked at the empty space where Brin should have been. Her hands curled into fists.

She began to think about what came next. Her thoughts were joined by a voice from within.

"He will not have died in vain." Her voice, stronger than she thought it would have been echoed through the empty space. The anger simmered just below the surface; its ability to be tapped as an energy source was surprisingly easy. The rage, the fear, the hurt - all there waiting. They would fuel her through hard times, hunger, thirst, disappointment. Always there.

Faro looked long into the mirror, deep into her own eyes. She gritted her teeth as she replied. “I have always been loyal, but this was not how it was to go. You lied to us, to me. Brin was supposed to win and be free of your influence. We would have been free, to live, and to raise our daughter in... how did you say, A New Age for Bajor?”

Her reflection stared back at her. “Bollocks.” The word hung in the empty room. For a moment there was only silence. Then the voice within her answered, using her own voice, calm and certain.

"There was a weakness we had not expected. You are stronger; you shall prevail and defeat the Emissary," The Wraith purred, intoxicating with promise. It flashed an image through her mind, a new Bajor, without fear or famine, green and vibrant, with herself as the figurehead of a new religion.

“That vision was his.” Her voice was quiet, seething with anger. “You gave it to him. You showed him a future where everything we had fought for finally meant something. He believed you.” Her jaw tightened. “And now he's gone.”

The red glow in her eyes flickered. Faro stepped closer to the mirror. “This weakness you speak of...” She shook her head slowly. “It tells me something else.” Her eyes narrowed. “You aren't all-knowing.”

The voice within her remained silent. “You made mistakes; hell, we all did. But you didn't see them coming. You didn't know what would happen to me, to them, to Brin.” She swallowed, her expression hardening. “And all this time you expected me to believe you knew exactly where this path was going.”

Faro gave a bitter little laugh. “Tell me something. Why should I listen to a liar?”

The Wraith shifted within her.

Faro could feel it. She didn't pull back. “I gave you most of myself. I followed you. I believed in you, as I believed in him.” Her voice grew colder. “But I always kept something for myself.” She looked directly into her own eyes. “Enough to doubt you. And after everything that has happened...” Her hand tightened around the frame. “Tell me why I should even care anymore.”

Silence filled the room.

Faro turned away from the mirror and walked toward the door, then stopped. “Find someone else to do your bidding.” But she couldn't walk away that easily, not once a Wraith had taken hold.


Approximately 9 months ago - Traveling Under Cover

For the next several months, Faro lived beneath the surface of Bajoran society. She moved between old resistance safehouses, abandoned shelters, forgotten caves, and places where former resistance fighters had once hidden from the Cardassians. Most of the people who had once known her were gone, scattered across Bajor or dead, and those who remained had little reason to trust a woman being hunted for the attempted murder of a family in Drakkar Province.

She kept her head down, changed her appearance when she could, and learned to leave before anyone had a chance to ask too many questions. There were days when she barely spoke to another living person. The silence should have given her peace. Instead, it left more room for the voice inside her head.

The Wraith was growing stronger. It fed on the anger she carried, on memories of Brin, on the injustice of his death and the hatred she could never seem to put down. Its words were always there, sometimes barely more than a whisper, sometimes filling her thoughts until she could no longer tell where her own anger ended, and its influence began.

It did not need to force her. It only had to keep reminding her. A thought here, a question there. Another reason to hate, another reason to distrust, another possibility she had never considered before. Like water wearing down stone, the pressure continued day after day. Like a flame consuming a piece of paper, the damage was slow enough that she could still pretend she was whole while something inside her was disappearing.

Then the constables came. They had been following her trail for weeks, closing in on the people connected to the attempt on the family. Faro had believed the old network was still deep enough to keep her hidden. She had been wrong. One of the safehouses was compromised, and word reached her only moments before the local constables surrounded the compound. Faro gathered what little she could carry and fled through the back of the shelter, disappearing into the darkness once again. She ran because there was nowhere else to go.

She evaded their searches easily, as one who had lived and breathed the underground could do. Carefully picking her path to avoid leaving any sort of trail. The caves of the mountain became a refuge as she scouted local villages for followers.

High in the mountains she came across a cottage and was about to steal food when a woman with one leg raised an old fashioned rifle to her face. The glimmer of recognition was fleeting but there.

Faro raised her hands slowly. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything. I'm just hungry... and tired. Please...” Her voice was barely above a whisper. She kept her eyes on the rifle, afraid that one wrong movement would turn the moment into something neither of them could take back.

Then, in the dark corners of her mind, a voice spoke from the shadows. “She impedes our progress. You know what to do.”

Faro's fingers tightened slightly.

“Your knife. Use it. Kill her in her sleep. She threatened you. She is nothing and deserves what is coming to her.”

For a moment, Faro said nothing. The thought settled into her mind with frightening ease, wrapped in the same anger she had been carrying for months.

"I would think again, friend." The sound of a knife being drawn from behind her made Faro reconsider.

"My Son has never missed a strike; he won't start now." Zio did not lower her weapon, but grabbed a small loaf of homemade bread and tossed it towards the intruder. "Be gone, and next time, remember your manners. Ask for food. Don't steal from your fellow Bajorans"

Faro's eyes shifted toward the second blade behind her. Two weapons. Two opponents. And in this moment, neither of them needed to be her enemies.

The Wraith pressed against her thoughts again. Now.

Faro swallowed. She knew this feeling. The old instincts were still there, buried beneath the exhaustion and the constant whispering. Fight or flee. Live or die. There would be no victory here, only another body on the ground and another reason for the constables to hunt her. She had spent months surviving by knowing when to disappear.

Faro caught the bread against her chest. For a moment she stared at it. Ultimately hunger won over pride. She bowed her head. “Bless you. Thank you.” Her eyes lifted toward Zio. “It was a difficult choice on an empty stomach. I'm sure you can relate.”

The words sounded harmless enough. They weren't. Faro knew exactly what she was doing. So did the voice inside her. She was giving Zio a reason to see her as something other than a threat. A little sympathy. A shared experience. A reminder that they were both Bajoran, both survivors, both familiar with hunger and hard choices.

The manipulation came so naturally that Faro wasn't entirely sure anymore where the idea had originated. She backed away from the cabin, clutching the bread tightly in one hand.

The Wraith remained silent. For the moment, that silence was almost worse than the voice.

"Go" Zio nodded towards the surrounding wilderness, indicating she wanted this intruder to leave her space promptly. The rifle stayed raised until the sound of footsteps on the forest floor could no longer be heard. They would sleep on guard tonight.

Faro continued backing away, keeping her eyes on the woman and the second blade behind her. She had no intention of turning her back until the trees offered enough cover to put distance between them. The bread was safely clutched tightly against her chest, a small, precious prize she had nearly thrown away for the satisfaction of a single violent impulse.

Only when the cottage disappeared behind the trees did Faro allow herself to breathe. She had food. She had escaped without bloodshed, and she had managed to walk away from a confrontation without making her world any smaller than it already was. It was hardly a triumph worth celebrating, but after months of flight, suspicion, and loss, even a loaf of bread felt like something the universe had not managed to take from her.

The Wraith offered no praise. It had wanted blood, and Faro had denied it.

She broke off a piece of bread and ate as she walked, letting the taste and texture anchor her to the present. For a few moments, she could almost imagine that the choice had been entirely her own.

Then the familiar voice stirred in the depths of her mind. Mercy is a weakness others will exploit.

Faro chewed slowly, her eyes fixed on the dark path ahead. She had survived the encounter. She had kept her knife sheathed. Tonight, that would have to be enough. She continued walking, carrying her small victory into the wilderness, while the voice within remained.

TBC

Inspiration: Mumford & Sons - 42
https://youtu.be/cSAlKS7oot8?si=ge6p6rktn2iqBkLt

Where do I turn to when there's no choice to make?
And how do I presume when there's so much at stake?
I was so sure of it all

But what if I need you in my darkest hour?
And what if it turns out there is no other?
If this is our last hope
We would see a sign, oh
We would see a sign

Well I've been running from the ashes we left
Forgiveness fends for itself but how can I forget
When there's a stain on it all

But what if I need you in my darkest hour?
And what if it turns out there is no other?
We had it all
If this is our time now
We wanna see a sign, oh
We would see a sign

So give us a sign
I need some guiding light
Children of darkness, oh

 

RSS Feed