TITLE: Immaculate Deception

AUTHOR: JLGuidry, "PK Lil"

RATING: PG-13, Mature themes, language, mild violence.

DISCLAIMER: Farscape is the sole property of Henson, Inc., Rockne S. O'Bannon,
et al. This work of fiction is in no way meant to infringe their copyright.

NOTES: This is an abridged version of an original novel that made the rounds—
unsuccessfully—of several agents who wanted no part of such genre fiction. Now
it is relegated to "fan fiction" and presented here for the enjoyment of
Farscape fans.

ARCHIVE: -- This story may NOT be archived or included in part or in whole on
any site.


Immaculate Deception
Chapter One — Revenge Motive
Prologue:

The twin suns of the Peacekeeper home system were just breaking over the
horizon of the planet Kordaen. Their golden light teased at the edges of
buildings but brought little warmth. It was the first month of the cold season,
a time for revelry and joy among Sebaceans. They would flock here from all over
the planet and down from ships in orbit to take part in the celebration.



High Command Square was quickly becoming a morass of smells, sounds and
sights. Dozens of food, drink and amusement kiosks were setting up to display
their wares. Garish decorations were already strewn across every available
surface. Musicians were practicing their art in a growing cacophony. The red,
black and white standards of all resident Directorates and Divisions were being
raised to the tops of masts. They fluttered and snapped with the freshening
morning wind.



The spindly figure standing outside the main complex of High Command
scrutinized the preparations silently. With his slick, black thermal regulator
suit, he was as out of place as the carnival festivities in this megaplex of
towering buildings. His wrinkled gray face, framed by the rubbery mask of his
thermic cowl, was menacing with its complete lack of expression. The steely eyes
missed nothing however, darting sharply as they took in the Square.


He did not feel joy or the need to revel. He was instead filled with a
sense of foreboding and dread. His future in the Special Research Directorate
could very well be decided today.



Scorpius knew instinctively that his proposal stood little chance with
First Council. Despite the backing of SRD and the potential of wormhole
technology in the coming war with the Scarrans and Nebari, he knew he would
fail. His very existence doomed him to failure. Not Sebacean and not Scarran, he
was some abominable fusion of the two.



The Peacekeeper military machine—despite its unwavering devotion to racial
purity—allowed him to live. It kept him on like some reviled lab animal, giving
one microt only to take back the next. Why had they allowed him to live? It was
a question that haunted the empty arns of his nights as he lay awake filled with
memories.



Memories of his mother and father—and make no mistake, they were memories,
not stories he had been told—filled him with shame and rage. The curse of being
half Scarran meant that he possessed certain psionic abilities. The worst of
which, of course, was being aware of events even before his conception.
Thoughts, emotions, reactions of his Sebacean mother and Scarran father poured
into his mind unbidden. Hence most nights were spent in a futile search for
dreamless sleep.



Admiral Neleu EL-Vashti had been quick to react when he discovered
Scorpius' existence.


The official Peacekeeper line stated that only through racial purity could
a cohesive military force be maintained. Scorpius often wondered if the edict
was inspired by fear. It was a proven fact that Sebacean DNA was so malleable it
allowed for easy conception with any number of alien species. Either way, it
was a taboo subject, even among scientists. The laws against contact with
unclassified aliens existed. To question was to risk punishment or worse.



He was immediately placed under the protection of Admiral EL-Vashti,
commander of the armada served by his first benefactor, Captain Molayne. EL-
Vashti personally petitioned First Council for his safety. What a unique
opportunity to study their enemy, the Scarrans, he argued. As the hero of the
recently ended Scarran Wars, he was a force to be reckoned with. In the end,
First Council ordered SRD to take Scorpius for extensive research.


Despite his physical turmoil, in his forty cycles with SRD he came to
realize he was an undeniable asset to defense research. Without his help, most
advances in mutanagenic poisons, viral agents and mapping the neural patterns of
multiple species would never have been possible.



Scorpius' rise to the higher echelons of the Directorate was due solely to
this genius. Despite his loyalty and EL-Vashti's patronage he remained a pariah,
even among his fellow scientists. They feared and loathed him far more than they
could ever admire his work. He was tolerated for what he might achieve for the
Peacekeepers, nothing more. This was a fact not lost on him.



The promise of sanction for his wormhole project had been assured at
first. Then, his sources relayed information of another proposal from a
decorated captain, the commander of an armada of prison ships. Scorpius' hope
for recognition and acceptance began to fade with this news. He did not know
Bialar Crais, but any pure Sebacean would stand a greater chance of selection by
First Council over him. Peacekeeper narrow-mindedness demanded it.



When his sources discovered that his rival was a first genner—a Sebacean
whose family was not originally a member of the Peacekeeper military, had no
formal House or name—his blood boiled. To be passed over for the lowest of the
low was an insult he was sure he could not bear. Even House Jeema—his mother's—
had long been on the Peacekeeper rolls. But, cruel fact though it was,
Peacekeeper Houses were patrilineal. One's father made or broke who one was.



"Scorpius, they have called for you," his aide, Niem told him softly.



So caught up in his own thoughts, he hadn't sensed her approach. He turned
to face the pale woman, giving her a nod and half-hearted smile. He glanced once
more at the twin suns before entering the building.



As he strode into the main chamber, Niem at his side, a large entourage of
commandos burst outward through First Council's doors. They cleared the way like
an honor guard for the officer leaving his audience with the Council. Scorpius
studied him coldly. He was darker than most Sebacean males, slightly shorter and
stouter. His long hair was pulled into a queue in much the same way as
Peacekeeper females wore theirs. Scorpius remembered Admiral EL-Vashti donning
much the same queue. An uncommon affectation, to be sure.



The five rank bars on the cuff of his right sleeve indicated he was a
captain. The fleet badge on his chest meant he was from the armada, a command
carrier group called Mhultaan. So, smiled Scorpius bitterly, this was the much
heralded Bialar Crais. He watched as the captain donned his garrison cap with a
stiff flourish and straightened his impeccable uniform. A fop, but a popular one
with High Command and First Council evidently, Scorpius seethed.



Their eyes met fleetingly. Scorpius' smile gave nothing away to his rival,
but inside his Scarran half growled its fury. Crais dismissed him with one
lifted eyebrow and harsh frown. He had immediately underestimated Scorpius, as
did most Sebaceans. Crais' aides helped him into his bulky, red and black
uniform great coat. After the last buckle was fastened he spun on his heel and
left the building. The entire escort pivoted in unison to follow their captain,
a precise display of military pomp.



Scorpius chuckled at the ludicrousness of it all.



"The competition," Niem said quietly as she stood only denches from his
right arm, her customary position.



"Such as it is," he replied, smiling warmly at her.



She wasn't convinced by his false pluckiness and it showed.



"I know," he whispered, patting her affectionately on the shoulder. "We
will do our best as always."



She nodded silently, following him in to face the First Council.





** ** ** ** **





The chamber was smaller than he had expected and less formal. It seemed
little more than a large conference room. A crescent shaped table dominated the
dais at the rear of the room, around which the seven admirals of First Council
sat. He looked up at them with a twinge of awe. This was the ruling body of the
known universe. These seven Peacekeeper admirals had fought their way through
innumerable wars, avoided the subterfuge and back stabbing inherent to the
higher echelons of the service and now made decisions that effected trillions.
They were legends in their own time.


The majority were members of the Founding Four families—those Sebacean
Houses responsible for forming the Peacekeeper Alliance centuries before. Sillu
Menkena, Feylan Durka, Certh Rotharn, and even Vrakiish EL-Vashti, younger
brother to Scorpius' unlikely savior.



Scorpius was saddened but not surprised by their disapproval. It swept
down upon him like thorns ripping into sensitive skin. He knew there was
precious little he might say to deflect their repugnance at his mere existence.
He felt himself growing hotter and knew it would soon be time for Niem to change
the cooling rod in his head. Nerves and the excitement of the day were making
him overheat. He consciously took deeper breaths, trying to prolong the time
before the cooling apparatus would burst forth from the side of his head. He
would not give First Council the pleasure of seeing his one weakness.



"You may proceed, Scorpius," Admiral Sillu Menkena, the Council's Primary,
advised him sternly. Her lean, scarred face telegraphed her emotions so well he
had no need to extend his Scarran senses to scan her. Those cold, gray eyes told
him she would squash him like an insect if given the chance.



"Thank you, venerable Council members," he smiled, bowing respectfully. He
ignored the scalding wave of disgust pouring down upon him, turning instead to
his presentation.



He signaled to Niem. She activated a holographic imager causing the
likeness of a wormhole to coalesce in the center of the chamber. It bathed
everyone and everything with an unnatural blue radiance. The image shifted,
coiled and moved like a serpent.



"This is a wormhole," Scorpius began. "Simply stated, it is an
artificially created passage that can bridge the distances of space. In effect,
it folds these distances in much the same manner Leviathans do with their native
starburst maneuver. However, unlike starburst, wormhole technology can be
controlled. It would provide safe and rapid transit into any position we choose,
thus cutting passage time from many solar days to a matter of microts.



"Additionally, there is the distinct possibility that it can serve another
purpose. With the proper research, it can be used as a powerful weapon."
Scorpius motioned to Niem and the image swiftly changed. A holographic planet
formed in the center of the chamber.



"With the correct calculations, there is every possibility a wormhole
could be caused to manifest in such a way that its proximity to a planet would
prove cataclysmic."



As he spoke his words were illustrated with great force by the holographic
image. A massive wormhole formed within the planet's orbit. Shortly afterward,
the planet's shape began to deform, folding in on itself before collapsing all
together. What remained of the planet splintered into billions of fragments as
the wormhole shrank and disappeared. The murmurs of the Council members made
Scorpius' expectations leap.



"Impressive, to be sure," said Admiral Menkena. "However, your
presentation has one major recurring theme: research. Can this technology be
implemented now should the fleet require it?"



"As with all scientific projects," Scorpius began only to be silenced by
Menkena.



"Can it?" she barked. "This requires only one word from you: yes or no."



"I haven't yet succeeded in creating a wormhole, however…"



"Then we must take it your answer is no." Menkena continued, drowning out
his calm, respectful voice.



"Given the proper facilities and time for research, the possibilities of
this technology are limitless." Scorpius argued more insistently, still careful
to pitch his voice in softer tones.



"Enough," Menkena shouted, her hand raised in an unmistakable signal
demanding his silence. "Your proposal will be taken into consideration. You are
dismissed."





** ** ** ** **






"You must eat something, Scorpius," Niem chided as she held the small
plate filled with tempting delicacies before him. "Depriving your most basic
needs can only aggravate the thermic constancy problem."



He shook his head slightly, eyes focused somewhere in the middle distance
outside. The large windows of the conference chamber afforded a panoramic view
of the gathering revelers and festivities in High Command Square. His face was
motionless, but his eyes darted, taking in everything in the carnival forming
outside.



"At least drink this prowsa nectar," she insisted, holding the small glass
out to him.



Without looking at her, he extended his hand, taking the drink and downing
it in a single gulp. He placed the emptied glass on the arm of his chair and
waved her away with a minute flick of his hand. She bowed respectfully,
gathering the glass and food tray before leaving him alone to his thoughts.



He hadn't spoken a word since his dismissal from First Council's chamber
nearly twelve arns earlier. There was nothing to say. Obviously the delay in
announcing their decision was gratuitous. Their reaction to his presentation
told him all he needed to know. Crais' project, whatever it was, would be
selected to receive the financial and manpower support of High Command.



Fools, Scorpius thought irately. Long range tacticians agreed that the
threat of war from both the Scarrans and the Nebari was indeed real. However,
best estimates predicted at least a three or four cycle delay before any actual
aggression from either race. More than adequate time to finish his research and
implement the wormhole technology.



Typical soldiers, thinking only of bigger guns. If his guess was correct,
Crais' project would involve more formidable frag cannons on larger command
carriers. Crais was a fleet soldier and a first genner. What else could his
limited brainpower imagine? First Council was no better. When all was said and
done they were merely highborn, military-minded imbeciles.



The last time he felt this disgusted with Peacekeeper hierarchy, he was a
young and bitter twenty cycles old. He took a leave of absence from SRD because
he could not face another moment among his disdainful peers. Striking out into
the Uncharted Territories without plan or purpose, he wasn't entirely sure what
he was seeking. He was adrift outside the Peacekeeper world into which he'd been
brutally accepted. The experience, he now knew, shaped his future in ways he
could never have imagined at the time.



When his marauder was stranded on Geljesh VI, the planet's hot atmosphere
nearly cost him his life. A serendipitous encounter with a beautiful young thief
changed his existence forever. For once another being did not shrink from him in
repulsion. Natira welcomed him into her arms and her bed with a passion
previously unknown to him. She inspired emotions and desires he never realized
existed within himself. Their relationship was an epiphany.



When her criminal past brought Peacekeeper justice down upon her head,
Scorpius intervened, saving her life. In gratitude she introduced him to a
brilliant diagnosan capable of solving his perilous thermic constancy
predicament. Surgeon Tocot conceived and installed an ingenious cooling
apparatus inside Scorpius' cranium, affording him a new freedom of existence.



For more than a cycle, Natira shared her bed and her life with him. In
turn, Scorpius brought her along in his travels. With her vast network of
connections, he made contacts that would prove invaluable later in his career
with SRD. He mapped regions of what the Peacekeepers called the Uncharted
Territories. He discovered resources and habitable planets and moons where
staging bases could be erected.



When he was practically certain he would call the emotions he felt for her
love, Natira betrayed him. In the Mantora system, it came down to a choice of
continuing their lives together or joining the crew of a mercenary ship. Visions
of limitless fortune danced before her eyes and Natira chose the latter. He had
been filled with such rage he nearly murdered her in their bed, but stopped
short. His life thus far had taught him the priceless gift of patience. Fate
assured that a time and place would come for every eventuality. She would be
repaid one day for her treachery.



Having lost his innocence, Scorpius returned to SRD with his wealth of
information and resources. While it could not buy the friendship of his
colleagues, they were far more appreciative of his abilities. The respect he
gained was payment enough. Like everything else, he filed it in his repository
of tools for building his future.



He heard the door to the chamber hiss as it opened. Niem's soft footfalls
approached and he finally tore himself from the carnival outside the windows. He
crossed his arms over his chest and slowly turned his chair to face her.



"Their decision is in," Scorpius breathed, his voice little more than a
whisper and his gaunt face a blank.



"Yes, Scorpius." Niem replied, head cocked to one side. Her expression was
pained and told him his fears were justified. She bowed her head to hide her
face as if sensing his thoughts, but it was too late.



"Captain Crais is the beneficiary of First Council's largesse." He said.



"Yes," she answered, gripping herself with her leather-clad arms as if she
were cold.



"Not much of a surprise," he laughed bitterly.



"The research can continue. Must continue." Niem reasoned bending down
onto one knee beside his chair. "Surely they see that."



He looked fondly into her beautiful face, one that had only ever regarded
him with kindness. She was not a Sebacean. With gentle fingers he stroked her
fine red hair.



"Without the financial and manpower support only First Council can
apportion to SRD, we can take the project no further." He told her evenly.



"There must be other channels," she pressed. "Another way to proceed."



He smiled at her earnest devotion. Lacing long gloved fingers in front of
his face he said, "I will find a way. It will be a very long road, but I will
find a way."





** ** ** ** **





"Has Captain Crais returned to the Mhultaan yet?" Scorpius asked Niem as
they came out of the main building on to High Command Square. They crossed it
with difficulty, dodging drunken Sebaceans in garish costumes. The air was thick
with the aromas of decadent foods, fellip nectar, prowsa wine and ras'lak.



"No." She replied, her long legs making it easy to keep up with his rapid
strides. "Central Communications says he's still here on Kordaen. In fact, he's
staying on for three solar days to attend the carnival festivities. He's even
granted shore leave to his command staff and half his prowler and marauder
divisions. Only a single rear battle squadron remains on duty."



"Perfect." Scorpius laughed derisively and shook his head.



Raucous music blasted around them as a line of half-naked dancers of both
sexes snaked their way across the Square. Glittering confetti showered them and
fireworks boomed overhead flaring red, blue, green and white in the twilight
sky. The revelers gasped, cheered and applauded wildly. Scorpius shook his head
in disgust at the ridiculous display. The Square would be hip deep in refuse and
vomit by morning.



After much jostling and detouring, they came to the transit station.
Forced to elbow through lines of arriving revelers, they made their way to the
departure platform. Niem slid her ident chip into the terminal and keyed in the
destination code for SRD's main complex. After a quarter of an arn, an automated
shuttle car slid to a stop beside them.


Scorpius motioned for her to enter first. He followed, locking the portal
behind him. They sat side by side, securing their restraining straps. With a nod
from Scorpius, Niem pressed a button on the control console. The shuttle's
engines roared to life, causing it to lurch forward. It shot upward suddenly
before banking northward toward SRD.



"You're planning something," she said bluntly once the shuttle had leveled
out and assumed a smooth flight path.



"My dear, you know me too well." He smiled slightly, clapping a hand
lightly on her knee.



"Do I need to know what it is at this point?" she asked, turning to take
in the setting suns over the frosty landscape.



"Suffice it to say it will involve revenge," he smiled.



If her species had the capacity for laughter, Scorpius knew she would have
chuckled at that statement. Lacking it, Niem merely smiled and shook her head in
understanding.



"Our first task will be to find out the details of Captain Crais'
project." He explained and crossed his long legs comfortably. "Once we have that
information, I will know better how to proceed."



"I should have no difficulty getting that information," she assured him,
golden eyes narrowing.



"You are a treasure." He said tenderly. "How soon?"



"I'll get started on it the microt we reach SRD." She replied.



"Outstanding," He smiled before turning to a silent observation of the
landscape flashing around them and the fall of night.





** ** ** ** **





Scorpius shifted onto his side in bed, trying to find a more comfortable
position. His quarters were pitch black, but his Scarran eyesight revealed
everything in minute detail. He fought to keep his eyes closed and to think of
nothing. It was a nearly impossible task.



Niem had put her information Techs to work the microt they returned to
SRD. They were burrowing their way into First Council's sealed records; a
delicate and absolutely dangerous mission. Espionage was the acceptable norm in
Peacekeeper society. To get caught however, meant death, usually by slow
torture. More than sufficient inspiration to be as careful as Sebaceanly
possibly.



Waiting was a more arduous activity by far. Wondering if and when a squad
of First Council's Elite Guard would burst into his chambers was nerve wracking.
Still, the reward for success might very well be worth the risks. Once he knew
the specifics of Crais' project, he could get to the task of sabotaging it. If
the project failed, his chances of gaining First Council's sanction for his
wormhole research were all but assured.



Rolling to his other side, he opened his eyes to focus on the chronometer
on his bedside table. 32:00. It would be dawn in four arns. Still no word from
Niem.



SRD had been blessedly quiet upon their return. Even his fellow scientists
must have taken leave to join in the celebrations in the capital. He could just
imagine the carousing, drinking and general nasty making that filled High
Command Square throughout the night. Though he found the entire affair
distasteful, it provided an exquisite cover for Niem's Techs. Who cared what a
few lowly Techs might be up to when there was food, libations, and licentious
revelry aplenty?



He thought of the elegant Captain Bialar Crais running amok, recreating
with as many females as he could lay claim to before collapsing in a besotted
heap. A last congratulatory celebration before leaving to carry out First
Council's mandate. Good for him, smiled Scorpius darkly. Delicious was the
gautuk hen stuffed and well basted before roasting.



The door signal chimed. He was sitting bolt upright in a microt and
getting to his feet. Extending his senses he realized it was Niem outside his
quarters. She was alone. Regaining his composure, he waved his hand over the
lock sensor, opening the door.



"It's done, Scorpius," she sighed as she came inside.



He locked the door behind her and followed her to his desk. She placed the
gray communiqué chip into his holoviewer. He offered her a chair and she sat
down tiredly. He waved the illumination up half a level and engaged a jamming
device to scramble any eavesdropping devices. At last he sat in the chair next
to hers and tapped the on button. The red image shivered, wavered and spun
before finally coalescing.



Scorpius shuttled quickly forward through the entire compilation of data,
taking it all in. Returning to the beginning he slowly scanned each image at
great length.



"What is it?" Niem asked, stifling a yawn.



"Fascinating," he muttered distractedly as he shifted back to an earlier
image.



"Look at this," he said pointing at the multiple strands and coils. "This
is Leviathan DNA."



"What?" Niem asked rubbing her right eye and forcing herself to be more
alert. "How is that possible?"



"They are biomechanoids after all," he replied, his attention locked on
the holoviewer. "Living ships. They aren't built so much as they are. .
.created. . .by the Builders. Don't be fooled by their metal structures. Much of
these beasts are living matter."



"But why study Leviathan DNA? What could he hope to gain?"



Scorpius shuttled the images forward rapidly until he found what he was
looking for.



"Do you see this?" He asked. "This is an artificial catalyst. According to
these notes, it is meant to act as a means of impregnating a Leviathan."



"That's a bit commonplace." She scoffed. "First Council would waste time
and funding on this?"



"Ah, but the delightful part of this equation is in what the pregnancy
would yield." He told her. "Look closely at the details of the artificial
catalyst. See anything familiar."



"There is a great deal of Peacekeeper technology involved,"



"Exactly!" Scorpius interrupted. "This is brilliant. How a first genner
came up with this idea on his on is beyond my capacity to comprehend."



"What is it?"



"Simple, my dear," he told her with a grudging admiration. "Captain Crais
is attempting to create a genetically engineered Leviathan offspring. More
specifically, a Leviathan Gunship."



"If memory serves, this has been tried before." She said bluntly.



"Yes, but not with a catalyst as flawless as this," Scorpius said as he
looked quickly through the images again. "It has failed numerous times before,
ending in death. . . for all concerned."



Niem nodded her understanding. Failure in Peacekeeper society meant death.
While many civilians questioned the severity of a death penalty for every crime,
they could not fault the results. Everyone was highly motivated to do his or her
job and do it well.



"Given the right Leviathan and circumstances, this will work." He said,
his voice sibilant as he turned the holoviewer off with a resounding snap.



"What are you going to do about it?" Niem asked.



Silence surrounded them as he considered this. There were many avenues to
choose from. Finding the perfect one would be a matter of time and patience.
While he had little of the former, the latter was his strong suit.



"Do we have anyone in Leviathan Studies that can be trusted?" He asked
after nearly quarter of an arn.



"I can look into it," Niem said without much enthusiasm.



"What?"



"The Leviathan personnel are a peculiar lot," she answered with a grimace.
"Cliquish, more suspicious than other scientific groups. Finding the right
person will be difficult. Trusting them to commit sabotage. . .even more so."



Scorpius considered this silently for another few microts.



"Go over the personnel records of every top officer and Tech." He
instructed as he rose and stretched his lanky frame. "Any irregularity, any
questionable association, anything. . .find it and bring the information to me
as soon as you can."



"With the festival going on for another two solar days, I should have
unimpeded access," she said, standing up as well. She swayed slightly and
Scorpius gripped her arm.



"When was the last time you slept?" He asked as he led her to the door.



"Three solar days ago," she admitted with some embarrassment.



"Rest, Niem." He told her gently. "Fatigue can lead to mistakes. We can't
afford a single mistake in this endeavor."



"Understood," she said before slipping out of his quarters into the main
hall of SRD's billet block.





** ** ** ** **


Scorpius sat aboard his personal transport, studying the figure of the
young Technical Lieutenant as it flashed to life on his holoviewer. Spine ramrod
straight, face appropriately passive. Velorek was the perfect choice. His fit-
reps painted him as a brilliant, if erratic and overly romantic, scientist. His
affinity for the race of creatures who piloted Leviathans was legendary in SRD.
As such, Crais was quick to snap him up for the project team he was assembling.
Scorpius had been counting on it.

He sighed and shifted slowly in his chair as he watched one of his
operatives enter the chamber where the young Lieutenant waited. Velorek snapped
to attention as the Commander approached and greeted him. Scorpius increased the
volume of the comm link as he watched the exchange.

"Commander Tolano Javio," the senior officer said crisply. "Thank you for
agreeing to meet me on such short notice."

"Your message stated that it was of vital importance," Velorek replied
easing into a parade rest stance.

"That it is, Lieutenant." Javio said, clapping a hand on Velorek's
shoulder and leading him toward two nearby chairs.

Scorpius smiled darkly. Javio was a useful tool and an elegant choice for
this mission. As dull and unimaginative man as ever existed in Peacekeeper
ranks. He did as he was told, made no waves and seemed genuinely grateful for
Scorpius' questionable largesse.

"Lieutenant, there's a lot of scuttlebutt going around about a project
involving Leviathans," Javio said quietly.

"It's a security three velka matter, sir." Velorek was quick to retort. "I
am not at liberty to discuss it."

"Understood, understood." Javio smiled genially, leaning closer and
lowering his voice more. "But the word about the project is that it's, well, not
natural. Some sort of freakish, criminal thing. Word is. . .no one wants any
part of it."

Scorpius watched as Velorek's eyes narrowed. The younger man pulled away
from Javio as if burned, but made no move to rise.

"I have nothing personal against Captain Crais," Javio continued softly,
his voice almost apologetic. "He is a decorated hero after all, but. . ."

"But what?" Velorek asked, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the
conversation was going.

"Well, he is a first-genner," Javio whispered conspiratorially. "They're
not as given to respecting the natural order of things in Peacekeeper society as
the rest of us, if you take my meaning."

"I'm not certain I do," Velorek replied, but Scorpius saw the doubt
plainly on his face.

Javio rose stiffly then turned to say, "I think you do, Lieutenant."

Velorek stood up quickly, facing him with a pained expression on his face,
"Sir?"

"You've got a good reputation, Lieutenant." Javio said with an almost
fatherly smile. "Let your instincts guide you. You'll see what I've said is
true."

Velorek's brow knitted tightly. He seemed about to speak, but instead bit
his lip and remained silent.

"If the rumors about Captain Crais' plans for this project should prove to
be true," Javio said gravely. "Well, I'm not suggesting insubordination by any
means. Of course, you are the Leviathan expert. You'll know what should or
should not be done in any event."

The two men stared at each other for several long microts before Javio
clapped him sympathetically on the shoulder, squared his garrison cap on his
balding head and left the room. Scorpius watched the play of emotions on
Velorek's face with a dark smile. He was well and truly snared. His compassion
for Leviathans and Pilots would lead him like a ring through his nose into
betraying Crais. Scorpius couldn't guess exactly what action Velorek would take
to foul Crais' project, but the look on the young man's face spoke volumes. He
turned off the holoviewer as Velorek left the chamber.

Nothing was left now but waiting and patience.



** ** ** ** **



Magistrate Tolan Pollivar shuffled through an orderly stack of
transparencies. His mind was not on their contents, but the Regulator who stood
at silent attention before him. He could almost see her mother when he looked
into her pale young face. Merrina Kilm had been one of the best Procurators he
ever had the privilege of working with in his 70 cycles with the Internal
Affairs Directorate. Brilliant, calculating and beautiful. Officers in the
highest echelons of the Peacekeeper services feared her, with good reason. If
she could not ferret out a hidden truth through traditional methods of
investigation, espionage or torture, she would use her not inconsiderable sexual
gifts.



In atypical fashion, Pollivar had cared for Kilm. He would have even gone
so far as to admit it was passion he felt. He sired a child on her when they
were both young Regulators. The child had been culled due to inferior
intelligence. Pity. When they were selected for breeding, IAD held lofty hopes a
future High Magistrate would come of their coupling. That it did not was a
profound embarrassment, even after all these cycles.



Within a cycle of their child's culling, Kilm made a tragic mistake. Her
transgression cost her both her career and life. Following her selection for
breeding with a renowned admiral, she did the unthinkable. Throwing away cycles
of training, commendations and a secure future with IAD, Kilm disobeyed standard
Peacekeeper High Command policy. She altered assignment schedules in order to be
with the admiral to whom she had borne a child. She fell foolishly under his
spell and died because of it. Condemning her of treason was the hardest single
act Pollivar had ever done.



Admiral Neleu EL-Vashti was considered blameless in the sordid affair,
though Pollivar had tried his damnedest to bring him down. It would've been a
modest compensation for the pain of condemning Kilm. EL-Vashti was the hero of
the Scarran war, the Llundelan brush wars and responsible for the quelling of
anarchists on Delvia. No Tribunal would have put such a decorated hero into the
dock for a dalliance, however scandalous.



Fifteen cycles ago when the young Regulator was first assigned to the IAD
as a cadet, Pollivar looked into her sealed genetic records. He discovered what
he'd already guessed. She was Kilm and EL-Vashti's daughter.



Liliina EL-Vashti had her mother's pale skin, dark eyes and hair, the same
slender frame and deadly intellect. However, the similarities ended there. Her
arrogance, coldness and vicious instinct for the kill all came from her father.
Pollivar would have detested her on general principle even if she were not EL-
Vashti's daughter. That she was also Kilm's child was the only reason he had not
found some way of destroying her.



He continued to let her stand at attention, ignoring her and purposely
procrastinating. Let her wait. Sensing her nearness to promotion to Procurator,
she had gotten very high-handed. She was long overdue for an attitude
adjustment. Though he despised her, he would be the first to admit she had
outstripped her mother in the IAD. She was an exceptional Regulator. In her
cold, methodical way, she always managed to get information more quickly than
many of their veteran interrogation Teams.


People feared her, not because of any great power she wielded, for she had
little as a Regulator, the bottom of the IAD chain of command. It was her utter
lack of emotion in her methods. She did not have a squeamish bone in her body
and would resort to torture in an instant should her subject prove
uncooperative. She had a talent for torture and its devices that bordered on the
perverse. Destroying herself through sexual passion or love as her mother had
would never be a problem for Liliina EL-Vashti. She was one hard as stone,
frigid bitch.



Of course everyone feared IAD personnel, with good reason. Peacekeeper IAD
could bring down commanders in the highest military echelon on the merest
whisper of wrongdoing. They had frightful power, but walked a dangerous
tightrope themselves. How did a Regulator become a Procurator, or a Procurator
advance to Imperator? How were Magistrates selected from the corps of
Imperators? Competition was tight and oftentimes advancement relied on how
clever an IAD officer was at cutting the throat of his fellows, not how worthy.
But, then didn't cleverness make one worthy?



Pollivar exhaled noisily, finally sparing the waiting Regulator a scathing
look. She was almost as beautiful as her mother, but the cold black eyes were
enough to freeze out any man. She was taller than most Sebacean women and
slender, almost frail. She was not a fighter. . .at least she didn't look like
one. IAD didn't conscript individuals into service for their brawn, but for
brains. Grunts were meant for the commando regiments. The intellectuals were
meant for something greater.



"Liliina EL-Vashti," he said suddenly. She did not startle. He was
disappointed somehow and knew he should have been ashamed at his pettiness.



"Yes, Magistrate Pollivar." Flat, unemotional, but respectful.



"You have been summoned here for a particular mission. The normal channels
of command are being set aside in this case due to its delicate nature." He
instructed. "We have received a very disturbing report from a member of the
Special Research Directorate, Scorpius, concerning possible treason on the part
of a command carrier captain. Bialar Crais is his name. It has something to do
with an incident a little more than half a cycle ago. A project Captain Crais
developed himself. The impregnation of a Leviathan with a Gunship offspring."



"I am familiar with the incident, Magistrate." She acknowledged.



"Good. You shall become even more familiar." He replied. "Apparently there
was a question as to the success of the project due to sabotage by a Leviathan
Research Division Technical Lieutenant. The traitor, Velorek, was questioned by
IAD at the time, but he died without revealing his complicity in the matter.



"Scorpius asserts that Captain Crais may not have been as forthright as
first believed when questioned about the incident. He suggests that Crais may
actually have been in alliance with the traitor Velorek. He further states that
the impregnation of the Leviathan in question may have been a covert plot to
make off with the vessel."



"Why would any Captain in good standing risk his career and life on such a
foolhardy mission?" she asked, dark eyebrows knitted. "No one could hope to
evade our fleet in a mere Leviathan."



"That is for you to find out, Regulator EL-Vashti." He said. "These are
the materials in the case."



He handed her the stack of transparencies he'd been shuffling. "You will
also be required to question Scorpius further prior to your departure for the
Mhultaan, Captain Crais' ship. Your Team is assembling and all necessary
equipment is being readied aboard your transport."



"Yes, Magistrate," she said.



"EL-Vashti, prepare yourself." He advised her, leaning forward with elbows
on his desk and fingers steepled in front of his face. "Scorpius is not. . . a
full Sebacean. He is half Scarran. His appearance will no doubt…take you by
surprise."



Revulsion. Discomfiture. Finally, he had managed to pierce that cold
armor.



"He is, however, a valued member of the SRD and a brilliant scientist. You
are to treat him with the utmost care." He warned her. "He has friends. Powerful
friends. Your own father was his patron. Take that into consideration as you
proceed on this case."



"Yes, Magistrate."



"You are dismissed Regulator EL-Vashti."



Pollivar watched as she spun stiffly on her heel and left his office,
spine ramrod straight. She would get her attitude adjustment with this no-win
case. No matter the ending, someone would want her head on a jinka pole. Having
questioned Scorpius himself, Pollivar had no doubts what would happen should the
half-breed's agenda not be met. It would be a shame to lose such a gifted
Regulator.





** ** ** ** **





Liliina EL-Vashti smelled Scorpius before she actually saw him; a sickly
sour smell almost like fresh baked bread. The stench of malnutrition and
disease. Her stomach tightened as she walked farther into the darkened
interrogation room. The skin beneath her red and black IAD uniform prickled and
fine hairs stood on end when she perceived slight movement in the far end of the
room. A shifting of paler shadows among darker ones.



"You must be the Regulator," he said. His voice was like a harsh abrasive
dragged along tender skin. "I've been waiting for more than an arn."



"Apologies, Scorpius," she said, trying to sound unshaken. "I was detained
in a meeting with Magistrate Pollivar. He has apprised me of the facts in this
case."



"Make this quick, if you please." He said coming fully out of the shadows
and sitting in the only chair in the room. "Matters of utmost importance await
me on the Gammak Base."



"To be sure, sir." She said, still standing near the doorway. His body was
completely incased in a bizarre environmental suit, leaving only portions of his
grayish-white, wrinkled face exposed. Some sort of electronic devices protruded
from his cowled head roughly where Sebacean ears would be, red lights shining in
the dimness. He crossed spindly legs, the long tails of the thermic suit
falling at odd angles around the chair. With great effort, she approached him.



"Well?" he demanded, revealing a mouth filled with hideously discolored
teeth.



"I need certain particulars if I am to proceed with the investigation of
Captain Bialar Crais." She began.



"Young woman," he interrupted scathingly. "I have given a great deal of
detailed information to your Magistrate Pollivar already. Am I to be
inconvenienced by repeating it all to you?"



"Regulator!" she snapped without thinking first. "You will address me by
my proper title, Scorpius."



A twisted sneer crept onto Scorpius' face and EL-Vashti knew immediately
that she hated this horrid abomination. Every fiber of her being, every ounce of
Peacekeeper training made her wish to squash him like an insect.



"It is my duty to inform you that hampering my investigation in any manner
whatsoever will put you at risk." She stated the IAD hard line to him, angry now
and more than willing to pull rank.



Scorpius laughed, a sound like the claws of a bird scratching on metal,
then purred sweetly, "Very well. . .Regulator. By all means, please proceed."



He was amused with her. She could sense it in his patronizing manner. She
knew in that instant whatever charges and allegations this half-breed freak had
leveled against Crais were false. It wasn't so much the evidence in the case,
but her instincts that told her Scorpius was just another powerful Peacekeeper
seeking revenge against an enemy.



"Please start at the beginning of your involvement in the matter." She
said. "I need names, dates and all other relevant information you have."





** ** ** ** **





Scorpius spun a twisting story of intrigue. His words painted Crais as a
subtle but brilliant anarchist. He cited the Captain's birth and upbringing on
an agricultural commune colony outside Peacekeeper territory; not all that
unusual but a point which IAD noted with interest, ever mindful of conscripts.
He listed a number of questionable actions committed by Crais leading to the
most serious: collaboration with Velorek. It was a damning case taken as a
whole, but still the doubt that originally formed in her mind did not ebb.
Scorpius was up to something. Revenge, obviously. She could be certain of
nothing else.



Standing outside the office of Procurator Tev Dulan, she considered
carefully what questions she needed answered. Seeking information from a fellow
IAD Agent was always a ticklish affair. Her reputation was well known and only
her powerful family name guaranteed her any respect whatsoever among her
fellows. House EL-Vashti was one of the Founding Four families from the
Peacekeeper's earliest days. Its membership included admirals, governors and
royalty. The patrilineal Peacekeeper system had given her that much though she
had been raised in a barracks along with others bred for the ranks. No one would
dare offend her for fear of retribution.



She pressed the signaler beside the door. It slid open after a microt and
she strode into the outer office. She eyed the aid behind the reception desk
coldly.



"I need to speak briefly with Procurator Dulan." She said.



"I will announce you, Regulator," replied the aid.



She did not have to wait long before the short, stocky form of Dulan
bustled into the outer office.



"Regulator EL-Vashti," he grinned officiously. "What brings you through my
door this fine day?"



"Dulan, I know you're the one who tried to break the traitor, Velorek,"
she stated icily. "Unsuccessfully by all accounts."



"My team handled that case, yes." He admitted more than a little
embarrassed by her remark and angered at her condescending nature. He hid it
with a shaky smile.



"I need to know everything that went on between you and Velorek, and all
details of interrogations with Captain Bialar Crais." She went on.


"Why, Regulator?" Dulan asked observing the courtesy of rank even if she
did not. "Is the case being reopened? Are there charges against Captain Crais
now?"



"Simply answer my questions, Dulan." She replied. "Anything else is
irrelevant to you."



"Please, come inside," he motioned her into his private office. "Have a
seat."



"I won't be here that long," she said.



Dulan eyed her callously but said nothing. He outranked this sanctimonious
tralk, but her family was far too powerful. He had enough sense to keep his
mouth shut and not cause trouble for himself. He sat stiffly behind his desk
looking at her.



"The matter of the traitor Velorek?" she prompted impatiently.



"Yes, of course." He said. "Apparently, Captain Crais discovered Technical
Lieutenant Velorek's conspiracy to block the project he had been assigned to.
More specifically, Velorek was accused of somehow interfering with the
conception process when Captain Crais was endeavoring to impregnate a Leviathan
with a Gunship offspring."



"Yes, yes Procurator Dulan," she interrupted. "I am already familiar with
these facts. I need more in-depth information. Did Velorek in any way implicate
others in the matter?"



"Velorek implicated no one." Dulan replied. "He withstood our methods in
complete silence and died unexpectedly during a simple mind-probe procedure. It
was discovered through the autopsy that he suffered an allergic reaction to the
medication we used for the probe, causing paralysis, asphyxia and cardiac
arrest. My Team physician was unable to counteract it. Unfortunate, really. We
might have made headway with the mind-probe."



"And Captain Crais?" she prompted when Dulan fell
silent.



"He was beside himself with fury, as you can image. That type of betrayal
on a project so valuable to First Council." He replied. "He completely lost his
composure, I must say. I thought he would tear the lab apart when Velorek died."



"He was present during Velorek's interrogation process?" asked EL-Vashti
in disbelief.



"We couldn't very well have kept him from it," Dulan answered. "As I said,
he was almost completely out of his mind with rage. He had Velorek's entire
team—with the exception of the commando who piloted their transport and a female
Tech—brought up on charges. Of course they were all executed."



"Out of his mind with rage," she repeated thoughtfully. "Could it have
been an act of some sort? Did you get any scans on him at all?"



"The scans all showed what you would expect, and we believed his emotions
were genuine." Dulan said. "As you probably already know, Crais was a conscript
from a remote agricultural colony. He's a first-genner. No house, no family of
any note, nothing. He made his way up to command level through sheer
determination and devotion to duty. He's a complete political animal. The
impregnation of the Leviathan with a Gunship offspring would have made him,
possibly even put him in line for the Admiralty. It would have been the coup of
a dozen lifetimes."



EL-Vashti considered this silently for several microts. She began to pace
Dulan's office like a caged animal. He watched her lithe form, but without any
real appreciation. She was poisonous, pure and simple. As a rule, the IAD bred
within its ranks. He suffered a secret dread they would be selected for
procreation. The very thought of the mating process with this woman made his
mivonks shrivel.



"Are you saying you suspect there is a possibility he was somehow
involved then?" she asked.



"Instinct reaction?" he said. "No. Not at all. However, the matter of the
promotion of the Tech. . . "



"What Tech?" EL-Vashti snapped leaning farther toward him. "The one spared
from Velorek's team?"



"Darinta Larell," Dulan replied.



He tapped his security code into the control pad of his holoviewer. Data
flashed to life before him. He scrolled down the list of files until he found
the one he was looking for. He selected it and the image of a female, around
forty-five cycles appeared above the desk.



"This is the Tech?" EL-Vashti questioned stepping back, scrutinizing the
red holo image as it revolved.



"Yes." Dulan answered. "The day Velorek was arrested, Crais promoted her
to the rank of lieutenant and put her into the traitor's former position."



"And the informant," EL-Vashti said. "What's her story?"



He selected another file and the person in question appeared between them
in profile.



"Officer Aeryn Sun. No promotion. No significant action at all on Crais'
part. She was simply returned to prowler detail," Dulan replied. "It was her
original posting until Velorek's team was assigned to Crais' project. She had
been reassigned to pilot the cargo vessel ferrying equipment and personnel for
the team. Returning to her prowler division was the price she demanded for
trapping the traitor."



"Is it possible either of these women is guilty of collaboration with
Velorek? Or with Crais in some scheme we've yet to uncover?" She asked
thoughtfully.



"Larell is Crais' creature, plain and simple." Dulan said with distaste.
"Whatever she did and received in return was out of pure loyalty to Captain
Crais."



"And the prowler pilot?" she questioned, crossing her arms over her chest
as she watched Aeryn Sun's image turning atop the desk.



"Oh, she's a grunt." Dulan chuckled as he turned off the holoviewer. "Just
another commando pilot in the Pliesar Regiment. She trapped Velorek to return to
flying prowlers when she could have demanded far more. She's nothing."



"How far did the interrogation go with Crais?" she asked finally, coming
to a stop and facing him again. She leaned toward him with her fingertips on his
desk.



"Not as far as I would have liked." Replied Dulan. "The Admiralty felt
Crais was not culpable in the matter. A fact that kept his head on his
shoulders, I can tell you. Quite a lucky turn of events."



He trailed off and she nodded in agreement. Without another word she left
his office. Dulan breathed a sigh of relief.



"Frelling cholok," he whispered to himself as he wiped the perspiration
from his forehead.





** ** ** ** **





Letting herself into her quarters she found her lover there waiting for
her. A breech of etiquette and even standard Peacekeeper practices, but she
allowed it.


She found her alliance with her Team's physician more fulfilling
than any relations she experienced before. It was more than their physical
compatibility. In a position that involved constant subterfuge and the hatred of
those she served with, she could trust him. Jinn Khetyr was the one person in
the universe she could trust with her life and had many times over. Exercising
due caution and taking full advantage of her position in the IAD hierarchy, she
managed to avoid investigation for their two-cycle-long relationship.



"Where have you been?" he demanded as he took her roughly into his arms
and kissed her.



"Interviewing an abomination by the name of Scorpius and that weakling,
Dulan." she replied pulling away from his embrace. "I hope you've gotten your
things together. We're off to the Mhultaan in two arns."



"A command carrier?" he asked following her with his eyes. "What is this
about?"



"Scorpius has made serious allegations against Captain Crais," she
explained as she began stuffing spare uniform articles into a jump bag. "He
claims Crais is plotting anarchy and we're the lucky ones who get to find out
who's trying to frell whom. Wonderful, yes?"



"Not another one of these frelling revenge motive cases," Khetyr sighed
and flopped heavily down onto a floor cushion. "You know this is going to end up
as arns of torture with no useable information. In the end we're going to look
like thoddos, the truth about the motive will come out and we'll have dren all
over us for smearing a command carrier armada captain of otherwise good
standing."


"We've survived these cases before," she said zipping up her jump bag.
"This one will be no different. I smelled revenge the microt I laid eyes on that
monster, Scorpius."



"I've heard of Bialar Crais." Khetyr said. "He's very powerful and popular
with the Admiralty and High Command. So is Scorpius; prominent scientist with
the SRD and all that dren. How the satra do you think he's tolerated by High
Command otherwise? Talk about irreversible contamination! This has the
probability of landing us all on the torture table."



"Well, just let me worry about that, all right?" she smiled tossing her
bag by the door and joining him on the floor cushion. "I'm guessing I'll get
Procurator out of this one."