Guardians - Consequence

Posted on Sat Oct 31st, 2026 @ 1:21am by Captain Marie Batel & Patin

2,225 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Character Development
Location: B'Hala

One minute there was 3 people in the secret cavern; the next there seemed to be a lot more. Ethereal beings appeared from seemingly nowhere. Faceless, their bodies gossamer-like and not quite touching the ground.

"The Prophet of Chaos and Boom has interfered."

Patin slowly turned toward the gathering of ethereal figures, her expression shifting from surprise to irritation as their accusation settled over the chamber. She glanced at the nearest of them, then at the others materializing around the dais, their forms hovering just above the polished obsidian floor.

For a moment, she considered the sheer audacity of their arrival. They had stood aside while a Wraith attempted to claim an ancient artifact, capable of threatening Bajor's future, yet the instant she took matters into her own hands, they descended upon her like a flock of disapproving Gulls.

“Oh, here we bloody go,” she muttered, planting her hands on her hips. “The celestial disciplinary committee has arrived. What is this, then? A formal complaint? Going to take away my shiny Prophet badge?”

"The future has been altered. Events will not play out as they have been foreseen. This is... troubling" The Prophets replied, as though they had never been unsure of anything before in their lives.

Patin cocked her head, staring at the assembled Prophets with an expression of utter disbelief. “You lot exist outside of time, right? Yet here you are, getting your celestial knickers in a twist because I decided what happens next?” She threw her hands into the air.

“How the hell does that work, anyway? You're non-linear beings trying to enforce a linear timeline! If you already know everything that's going to happen, then you should've known I was going to interfere. And if you didn't know, then maybe your precious future isn't quite as set in stone as you thought!”

She folded her arms, a smug little grin creeping across her face. “Sounds to me like you lot have got a bit of a paradox up your collective arses.”

She then gestured toward the dais, where the ancient book still rested, its dark cover reflecting the crimson glow of the chamber. “Where the hell were you lot five minutes ago? That thing was about to get its grubby little hands on something that could turn Bajor into a Wraith playground, and you were all perfectly happy to sit back and watch!”

Patin stepped toward the nearest apparition, her expression hardening. “You gave me a title, remember? Prophet of Chaos and Boom. You knew exactly what you were getting when you invited me into your fancy little Temple.” She jabbed a finger toward the gathered beings. “So don't come floating down here acting all surprised when I do what I've always done.”

Her voice lowered, losing some of its characteristic humor. “I saw what happens if that book falls into the wrong hands. I saw Nozzie's little girl standing beneath a burning sky, her eyes glowing red, with that Wraith's puppet playing ma.” She glanced toward Faro before returning her attention to the Prophets. “And I saw another future. One where she's happy. Where she's got her rightful ma, her family, and a little sister who looks like she's going to be a right pain in the arse.”

Patin folded her arms, regarding the faceless gathering with open defiance. “So, before you start lecturing me about interfering, how about one of you explains why protecting that little girl was such a terrible fucking idea?”

"The Batel is the Guardian, the Prophet of Choas and Boom becomes the sister Guardian. The Emissary will fulfill her Destiny. We have seen this and it shall be so. Those who have been cast out now have also seen it - and will react"

Marie's head snapped up at this, she had been a bystander during most of it - witnessing but not completely a part of. Almost like watching a holomovie. Now however there seem to be some pretty heavy implications. "So it was either Patin let the crazy woman have the book - and Bajor burns. Or she tries to stop the crazy woman having the book - and now the crazy one knows the future." She shook her head. "That's a shit choice all round"

“Exactly!” Patin exclaimed, throwing a hand toward Marie. “Thank you! Finally, someone with a functioning brain in this shiny ass cavern!” She turned back toward the assembled Prophets, her irritation rising again. “You give someone two rotten choices, then get all pissy when they pick the one that doesn't involve letting a little girl become the poster child for the Pah-wraiths. What the hell did you expect me to do?” A low chuckle interrupted her tirade.

Faro stood near the dais, her attention shifting between the two Guardians and the ethereal figures surrounding them. The crimson glow in her eyes had returned, accompanied by a slow smile that belonged entirely to the presence inhabiting her. “The Guardians,” the Wraith repeated, savoring the revelation. “And the child who will fulfill her destiny.” Its gaze settled upon Patin. “You have shown us more than you realize, little Prophet. We sought a book, and you have given us something far more valuable.”

Patin's expression darkened. She understood the implication immediately. The Wraith had seen Patina as a teenager, had seen Rhenora standing beside her, and had witnessed a second child whose very existence was still somewhere in the future. There were now names, faces, relationships, and possibilities for the Wraiths to pursue. Her defiance had given them a glimpse of precisely what they would need.

“Careful, darlin',” Patin replied, her voice dropping to a dangerous dagger. “Knowing where the explosives are buried doesn't mean you know which wire to cut.”

She turned toward the Prophets again, her jaw tightening. “And you lot had better start explaining what happens next, because apparently we've just handed the enemy an invitation.”

"This is unforseen" The Prophets said simply - as though they honestly had no idea what would go down now that the precious plan had a hiccup. "The Wraith were not to see the future"

"Well that's gone out the window now" Marie retorted with a half laugh. "Surely someone's working through the whole Plan B concept with you lot. Surely!" The exasperated expression of her face was met with the faceless scrutiny of those who had invited her into their realm. Maybe that's why she was here - the brilliant mind of Starfleet giving those who sought to control the universe a rational thought process to work with.

"You seriously have never encountered something not going your way before have you - oh my." Marie took the silence as affirmative.

"The Sisko once challenged us as you do. The paths diverge here, in this moment. Further divergence alters what is to come." The Prophets spoke together, their voices carrying the peculiar certainty of beings who understood every moment of existence, yet now found themselves confronting something beyond their expectations.

Patin considered this for a moment, her gaze drifting toward Faro. The woman remained dangerously close to the dais, and the ancient book still rested within reach. An idea formed, simple enough by Resistance standards, “Well... what happens if we just remove the Wraith from the equation?” she asked, turning a sharp glare upon Faro. “Seems to me that'd solve a fair few problems and help me feel better in the process.”

The crimson light in Faro's eyes intensified as she returned the glare, but when she spoke, her voice carried something distinctly mortal beneath the ancient presence. “You may certainly try.” Faro shifted her footing, one leg sliding behind the other as she lowered her center of gravity. Her hands moved away from the dais, her posture settling into a defensive stance that suggested she was prepared for Patin to make good on the threat.

"Confrontation may cause further divergence," the Prophets warned, their collective voices resonating through the chamber. "The consequences of such actions cannot be foreseen."

Patin glanced between the gathering of ethereal beings and Faro, her jaw working as she considered the warning. The Prophets seemed genuinely uncertain, and that troubled her more than she cared to admit.

The Wraith's eyes flared beneath Faro's, issuing a challenge. "So the great Prophet's can no longer see and control the future - what a shame." It taunted as it reached towards the tome once more. Marie stepped in, blocking the path, uncaring of consequence. If she was going to make a difference - this may be it.

Patin watched Marie step between Faro and the dais, her first instinct urging her to stand beside the former Starfleet captain and put an end to the Wraith's ambitions. But something about the whole situation bothered her.

Faro had been warned, threatened, and physically prevented from taking the book, yet here she was reaching for it again, practically inviting another confrontation. Patin knew that particular game. She'd played it often enough during the Occupation, dangling something irresistible in front of a Cardassian patrol and watching their arrogance to do the rest.

“Oh, you sneaky little shit,” she muttered, her eyes narrowing as she regarded Faro. “You're trying to get us to do something stupid, aren't you?” She glanced toward Marie, then back at the Wraith. “You heard the floaty committee. Every time we interfere, the future gets a little more scrambled. And here you are, practically begging us to interfere again.” A crooked smile appeared as she folded her arms. “Sorry, darlin'. I've been setting traps since before you learned how to borrow someone else's body. You'll have to do better than that.”

Faro paused, and stalemate ensued. Neither side taking the advantage, yet.

But as she considered the situation, something else began to trouble her. The barrier that had prevented her from reaching Faro had come from the Prophets themselves. They had intervened to protect the Wraith's opportunity to take the book, and every warning since had been directed at Patin and Marie, rather than the Wraith now threatening Bajor.

Her smile faded. “Hang on...” Patin slowly turned toward the gathering of ethereal figures. “You actually want her to take it, don't you?” She looked between the Prophets and Faro, the implications settling heavily upon her. “That's why you stopped me. That's why you keep telling us to leave things alone. Whatever happens after she gets that book, you've already decided it's worth it.”

Her expression hardened and she thought about Nozzie and the Meatbag and the things she'd seen, and when she spoke again, the humor had vanished entirely. “Tell me something. How much does that little girl have to suffer before your precious chosen destiny comes true?”

"The path of the Emissary is a difficult one. This cannot be avoided." The Prophets intoned as though it was the one thing they were actually sure of.

Marie screwed up her face, "Sounds like you're determined for her to suffer so she achieves your end game for you"

"Suffering is a condition of corporeal existence. The child will endure. The Emissary will become what she must become. The path must remain."

The Prophets spoke with the same detached certainty they had shown throughout the confrontation, their ethereal forms drifting gently above the obsidian floor. To them, Patina's childhood, her family, and whatever horrors might await her were simply events along a path whose destination had already been determined.

Patin stared at them, her expression slowly changing. She had heard that kind of reasoning before, usually from Cardassian officers explaining why another village needed to be cleared or why a few innocent lives were an acceptable price for maintaining order. The comparison turned her stomach. These were the beings her people had worshipped for generations, and here they were discussing Nozzie's daughter as though she were a piece on some celestial gaming board.

“The child will endure,” Patin repeated quietly, tasting the words with growing disgust. “That's your answer? She'll suffer, she'll survive, and eventually she'll become whatever the hell you want her to be?”

Her gaze moved toward the dais. The Counter book remained there, waiting patiently while everyone argued over who should be allowed to claim it. The Wraith wanted it for power. The Prophets wanted the Wraith to take it because doing so served their precious future. Neither seemed particularly concerned with the people who would pay the price.

Patin's expression settled into something Marie might have recognized from the old Resistance fighter beneath the Prophet's borrowed divinity. There was a time when she'd been told an occupation couldn't be defeated, that Cardassian authority was inevitable, and that the suffering of Bajor's people was simply the cost of maintaining order. She'd answered those arguments with explosives.

“That's the funny thing about destiny,” she murmured, her eyes fixed upon the ancient tome. “Everyone's so damn certain how the story ends, they forget that somebody still has to live through the middle.” Then she moved.

Patin lunged toward the dais, reaching past the edge of its carved stone surface. Her fingers closed around the dark cover of the Counter book, and a violent pulse of crimson light surged through the ancient inscriptions beneath her hand. “Let's see what happens when I write my own fucking chapter.”

TBC

 

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