The Wraith shook as a warhead exploded just several drenc from the ship's right wing tip. The control yoke vibrated simultaneously with the shockwave in Berret's hands.
"That was close!" came the excited, high-toned, female voice from behind him. "Who the frell are these guys?"
"Bounty hunters," the Shrike supplied as he fought to settle the still skipping craft.
Chiana swiveled her seat around toward him slightly, unable to face him any other way with being belted securely into the operations post chair on the rear of the flight deck.
"Who are they after? You or me?" she asked.
"Does it matter?" Berret countered, and pitched the Wraith over to avoid a series of pulse bolts. Chiana swallowed hard, knowing the surveillance ship wasn't really designed for these kinds of maneuvers.
The Nebari swung her seat back around after her stomach caught up with her to face her control boards again. Ordinarily, she would have enjoyed the wild ride anyway, just not when somebody was shooting at her.
She checked her scanners and reported, "Four contacts… directly behind us. Not quite Prowler class, but smaller and lighter than we are."
Berret double-checked his own scanner feed, and swore in Luxan, then dropped the ship just as a missile passed overhead and exploded. The cockpit brightened briefly in the flare, and the cockpit screen dimmed slightly to counteract the near-blinding flash.
"Sorry about that! That one got by me," the Nebari thief called out, realizing she had been so intent on reading the sensor data from the attacking ships, that she had missed the launched missile that was nearly upon them. What did he want – I'm not a PK Tech, she thought to herself briefly, by way of explanation.
Berret only mumbled in reply as he concentrated on flying the Wraith, and not being hit by enemy fire.
"They're trying awful hard to kill us," Chiana commented. "Hard way to collect a bounty."
"Not when we are worth just as much dead as alive to them."
"Yeah, and guess which is less trouble for these mA'ch-bucket nurfers."
The Wraith danced through several more evasive maneuvers, but the doubled pair of attack-ships doggedly clung to their tail, continuing to take pot shots at them.
"I cannot shake them," Berret finally said. They're hanging back and not letting me get the chance to drop behind them so I can utilize the forward pulse cannon."
"Smart little buggers," Chiana added as she kept track of her readings. "Got a feeling they know more about us and our ship than we do about them?"
"What's in the missile turret?" he asked instead of answering her hunch. It was hard to be sure because Aeryn was constantly swapping out armament between all the gunships as they acquired or used weapons up.
"I'm checking the inventory now," the gray girl replied as she called the list up on a side monitor.
"I got one Hellstorm in the rack!" she called a few microts later.
Berret shook his head even though she probably wouldn't see the gesture from her position.
"They're too close for that," he responded. "We'll kill ourselves in the detonation as well."
"I'm seeing what else…" Chiana continued, and then said, "I've got three "Breachers"!"
The ex-assassin scowled heavily at the news, as another blast rattled his ship. The over-stressed engines whined and sputtered briefly as some debris from the detonation was taken in through the intakes ports. The Shrike involuntarily held his breathe as the power slightly dropped off for a microt, then the engines smoothed out again and charged back up to their prior state. One good thing about Peacekeeper engine technology – they built them to take a beating and still keep running, he thought to himself for an instant.
"Those are implosion devices, used to breach a larger ship, like a carrier's, hull plating. They wouldn't be any good against fighters," he said, getting back to his crewmate.
"Its all we got!" Chiana told him in return. She swung around to better gaze at him in the pilot's seat again. "I've got an idea."
The Shrike didn't bother to ask what it was; he was helpless to do anything but pilot the Wraith, and her plan was better than nothing at the moment.
"Load them into the turret and do it!" was all he said.
Chiana touched a few controls and Berret could hear the suppressed drone of the missile rack being loaded in the underbelly of his ship.
"Done!" Chiana cried, a touch of another control and the new turret dropped from its housing. "Rack deployed," she continued. "Give me a few microts to set up the shot."
"Do it fast," the Shrike said tightly. "I cannot avoid four of them much longer."
It seemed a lifetime before the pretty gray girl announced, "Done… one away!"
There was a slight jolt as the missile leaped from the rack. The missile launching system had recently been modified by Aeryn and Andar to rotate a full 360 degrees, so there was no need for the Nebari to plan on a complicated shot were the missile had to waste time and fuel turning around to engage a target at the Wraith's rear.
"Tracking," Chiana reported and she watched her scanners and the projectile's progress. It was heading exactly right between all four ships… and none of them were bothering to avoid it as it was an obvious miss. The Nebari grinned, as her plan seemed to be working.
The grinned faded a few microts later as the missile passed by their attackers and failed to detonate as she had programmed it to.
"Frell!" the girl screeched.
"What?" Berret asked, his attention still on piloting and avoiding being hit by their opponent's continuing fire.
"It's a dud!" she announced. "It didn't go off."
Berret swore again, this time in Sheyang.
"Where did we get those missiles from," he asked next.
Chiana thought a moment and then froze. "I think toad-face made a deal for them two or three commence worlds ago."
"That explains why they are defective then," the Shrike spat.
The girl turned back to her board and saw she still had a chance.
"I'm trying another shot. One of them's gotta' work!" she told him. A couple of microts later she called, "Two away!"
Again the familiar shutter as the armament tore free of the rack.
"Tracking… on course," Chiana updated. The blimp that was missile raced toward the group of fighters behind them. "Looking good…" she added.
Then Berret heard her say, "Uh-oh…"
"Uh-oh what?" he inquired.
"Berret… go!" she suddenly said with an edge of growing panic.
"What do you mean…" he started to say.
"I mean – GO! Getusthefrellouttahere!" she replied rapidly. "The frelling thing's turned around and heading straight back at us!"
The Shrike didn't waste time swearing; instead he ceased the evasive maneuvers and slammed the Wraith throttle all the way open - pass engine spec safety tolerance, in a bid to outrun the runaway missile. Chiana however was in the middle of cursing enough for the both of them as she monitored the incoming armament.
"Where are we?" Berret tossed back a few microts later.
"Its still gaining… but at least our friends are hanging back to see what happens," the gray thief supplied. "Probably grissing their pants laughing at us!"
The Shrike scowled. "They may not be laughing at our expense much longer if we don't find a way to lose that 'Breacher' on our tail."
"Maybe it'll be a dud too," Chiana threw in as she craned her neck around as far as she could to look at the ex-Enforcer. Berret turned also and spared her only a quick glance over one shoulder, his look told the Nebari what he thought about that expectation. "Yeah… right," Chiana amended. "Like that would be with our luck."
The Shrike turned forward again and checked his navigation scans. A large body pinged the senor array less than a metra away, and the ex-Enforcer banked his ship to head for it. Unfortunately, while on the run the Wraith couldn't deploy its high-gain sensor sails to get a more thorough reading of whatever it was they were heading for.
As it was, it was pretty much their only option.
"What are we doing?" Chiana inquired as she noticed the course change.
"Trying to find something large to get between us and that runaway," Berret replied. "What is it doing now?"
"It gained on us even more with that course correction. It's programmed to detonate when it gets within one thousand dreck of a target."
"Metallic or heat setting?" the ex-assassin asked next.
"Either / or," the gray girl reported. "I wanted to be sure it go 'bang' when it got to where it was suppose to be going."
Berret nodded. "That at least expands our possible options."
"For what?" she asked with some puzzlement, but still not taking her eyes from the scanner boards.
"Turn your systems toward that large asteroid dead-ahead of us and tell me what you can get a read on," he said instead.
Chiana didn't question the request, even though she didn't feel very comfortable turning her electronic eyes away from the pursuing missile and attackers to carry out the instructions.
She had a very base scan a few microts later.
"Low ferrous metals… trace amounts of Qualta – not worth mining… methane fog… a few small lakes of Asktagus oil… there's a wyk-kaji class planet coming up just the other side of that 'roid… heavy cloud cover, can't tell this far out with the sensors in low-mode if its got solid land or swamp yet," she reported.
"We'll worry about that later if we make it that far," Berret told her. "Right now I want you to pick me out a Asktagus lake about a half-metra long if you can. Nothing bigger or we'll fry in it along with that missile."
"You going to ignite it?" Chiana asked suddenly.
"I can't think of anything else that will get it off our eema, can you?"
"No," the girl responded. "I have one! Sending the coordinates to navigation now."
"Locked on," Berret replied as the information came through.
Chiana turned her scan rearward again.
"It's now less than four thousand dreck off our tail," she read off to him. "Our other friends have also closed again. I think they're anxious to see us go boom!"
The asteroid filled the forward screen and then streaked under the Wraith as Berret brought the craft down to run barely a third of Moya's entire length from the cratered surface. He charged the forward pulse cannon as they closed with the targeted lake of oil rushing at them.
"Two thousand dreck and accelerating! It has a final target lock on us!" Chiana cried from her seat.
Berret attempted some fast calculations in his head, and found it was better just to just give up and to trust instinct.
He dropped thrust from the Wraith's engines.
The craft obviously slowed with a groan and shutter.
"What?" Chiana said in surprise. "What are you doing?" she exclaimed next as she realized her crewmate had purposely slowed their flight. "One thousand – five hundred… one thousand – two hundred… she continued to count off.
Berret slammed the throttle all the way opened once more, and dived the Wraith. Chiana heard the targeting computer give its droning tone-lock… and the next thing she knew the ship's rotating pulse cannon were firing from their forward ports.
A new sun erupted outside her small side port and she covered her eyes to protect them from the sudden glare. She was vaguely aware of the Wraith straining to climb skyward once again.
The dazzling light outside the craft abruptly ceased for a split microt – just as quickly as it had been born. And then something grabbed a hold of the Wraith's tail, and shook it like a Hazehound with an Alterian mole in its jaws.
The sun was suddenly back – twice as bright as before, and this time the Wraith was kicked in the rear end.
Chiana let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. The final shove in the eema meant they had gotten away relatively clean. Had it been otherwise, they would have been compressed, ship and all, into the size of a Kazeeian nutpea before they realized they were dead.
The Wraith's guns had ignited the oil lake as they passed over it; that was the sudden light that had nearly blinded her. The abrupt absence of the light and its violent reappearance meant that the Breacher had given up its target lock on them in favor of the burning lake of oil. It had sucked in the firestorm as it imploded – which was the backwards shaking the ship felt. It continued to compact the inferno until it couldn't be contained any longer, and then it erupted in the final spasm, which was the shove forward they felt next from the shockwave.
As the Wraith raced upward to the cooler depths of space once more, she rechecked her scanners looking for the attack-ships… thanking Zhaan's Goddess that the Stealth ship's unique sensor systems were generously protected against such abuse.
However, she was happy to see that the pursuing gunships didn't enjoy such a luxury. Chiana's boards told her that their enemies' ships weren't broadcasting sensor scans like they should have been. They were still flying in a holding formation while their sensors and scanners equipment cleared and reset themselves from the sensory overload of the explosion.
They were blind!
Chiana calculated that their time was running out as their enemy's eyes and ears reorganize themselves. Trusting to her instincts – and her thief's luck – she ran a target check on the spur of the moment.
She punched a button a spilt microt later before she could give the impulse much more thought.
"Three away!" she called up to her pilot.
The Wraith shuttered as the last missile leap from the turret, just as Berret turned toward her in alarm.
"NO!" he shouted, already too late.
"This one's good!" Chiana replied before he could say anything more about her rash decision. "Its good… I know it is!"
"Frell me dead!" Berret spat as he turned his ship toward the small planetoid that Chiana had discovered only moments ago. There was no sense getting upset at that instant, especially when the time could be better used in running.
"Its good, its good," Chiana kept saying to herself over and over again, as she watched the last missile's progress on her scanner. She almost believed that if she maintained the intense watch on the projectile that she could make it function correctly by sheer force of her willpower alone.
The sensors warned her with a chirp that the four attack ships had found them again as their scanners came back on-line. She watched as they altered their course to pursue the Wraith once more.
"They're on to us again," the girl reported. The missile was more than halfway there… if only it stayed true just a few more microts, and worked like it was suppose to.
The gunships either were ignoring the weapon as it raced toward them, believing that it wouldn't perform any better than the first two… or their sensor systems weren't totally 100 functional yet, and they had not detected the smaller missile's approach.
Chiana purposely held her breath as the weapon closed, passing perfectly between the four fighters following them. For one heartbeat, the Nebari thought the device was another dud.
It imploded just a split microt later – shredding the inner pair of ships as the force pulled them apart. The other two were pulled into spins that flung them both off course.
Chiana let out a whooping cheer, and tried to jump to her feet in celebration… only to be pulled back into the seat she had momentary forgotten she was belted into.
"What happened?" asked Berret from the pilot position.
"Scratch two bounty hunters… they're now sucking vacuum," she replied.
"What about the other two?"
Chiana checked her boards.
"They were bounced around, but they're regrouping and still coming after us," the gray girl reported, her jubilation fading away. "At least it bought us some more time to get ahead of them."
"And decreased the odds," Berret admitted.
The Wraith started to drop into atmosphere just then. Chiana pinged the ground to get a better reading.
"All swampland under us for as far as the sensors can sweep," she told him. "We don't want to do any crashing here."
The ship rumbled as rough air began to hit it. Berret set the Wraith's movable wings to better compensate for the chop, which slowed their speed dramatically.
"This isn't good," Chiana observed. "They're going to catch us if we have to fly like this."
"No choice," Berret responded. "The ship can't handle this turbulence without the air-lift the wings provide. What are they doing now?"
Chiana looked at her screen. "They're starting a attack run… one behind the other to cover. They've gotten smarter this time."
The cloud cover had gotten thicker and Berret set his course to stay within it as he leveled off.
"This isn't going to hide us from their target scanners," Chiana observed.
"But it will from their eyes," Berret countered.
"What have you got planned?" she asked.
Berret actually grinned; the rare gesture didn't hold a hint of humor in it. "One last trick that Aeryn explained to me about atmospheric air-to-air combat… with a slight twist to it."
"Will it be something I like," asked the Nebari with an upraised eyebrow.
"I think you'll find it adequately devious."
He then explained what he wanted her to do in the next few coming moments.
The pair of attacking fighters closed with the Wraith several microns later.
As before, Berret waved and dodged the ship, while the attackers took turns dropping into firing position and doing their best to score on the stealth craft. Always, one dropped back to provide cover and back-up to the ship in the attacking position.
Several recent hits on the Wraith produced a slight shutter in one engine. The bounty hunters smelling blood, both closed in for the kill to avenge their fallen comrades.
"Its now or never," Chiana called to the Shrike. "They're both as close as they're gonna get."
"Hang on!" Berret warned.
He bobbed the nose of the Wraith up and at the same time, deployed the ship's extended sensor sails from each wing – nearly doubling each wing's surface area in a under a microt. The craft immediately caught air, and the thinner sails began to shred from the stress they weren't designed to take. The Wraith however nearly stalled dead in mid air, while to the pursuers it appeared as if it had come to a sudden stop.
The lead fighter waived and dived under the stealth ship to avoid a collision.
"Now!" the ex-Enforcer shouted.
Behind him, Chiana slammed her fist down on the emergency release button for the sensor sails. Exploding bolts fired, and the ruined sails shot away from the Wraith's wing tips.
The debris broke up into a thick whirling cloud that slammed full-on into the trailing cover ship. Large sections of the sail surfaces were sucked into engine intakes, and metal rib-framing speared through the fighter's body and cockpit. The fighter's engine winked out, and in the next microt burst into flames. The craft did a slow turn in the air, and then the pilot-less ship performed a graceful burning dive ground-ward… only to be lost in the thick cloud cover before Chiana could see it hit.
With the sails gone – the Wraith turned from hunted to hunter as it tucked its retracting wings, and pitched its nose planet-side on the tail the remaining fighter. Mysteriously, both engines now seemed in perfect working order as it gained speed in the dive.
With its heavier weight, the stealth ship caught up to the smaller gun ship in mere microts.
The pilot of the bounty ship attempted to jig and wave, but obviously wasn't use to combat in atmosphere.
The pulse cannon's electronic sight bracketed the fighter easily.
Berret squeezed the yoke trigger, and both guns whirled in their ports, filling the interior of the Wraith with an angry buzzing sound. Outside, pulse bolts caught up with the attack ship. The frantic pilot panicked as he noted the steady stream of cannon fire filling the space around his craft and made a fatal error. He jerked back on his control by instinct, not taking into account the effect of air on his ship's control surfaces. His craft bounce hard on turbulence and swerved directly into the on-coming fire instead of peeling smoothly off as it would have in the vacuum of space.
Pulse bolts chopped through his fuselage, eating fist-size holes in it.
Several of the rapid-fired bolts found a fuel tank, and the craft disintegrated into a ball of fire before the pilot could scream, and dropped like stone.
Chiana let out another whoop as the last of their adversaries plunged through the thick cloud cover below them. Berret banked out of the dive and pointed the nose of the Wraith back toward open space. Within half-a-micron they had left atmosphere and were leaving the planetoid behind them.
Chiana unbuckled her safety harness, and immediately felt as if she'd been set free from a jail cell; as she was able to move about at will. She then checked her long-range scanner and picked up Moya's plexing beacon an the agreed upon obscure channel, the steady covert signal calling them home.
She sighed in relief as she estimated they'd be back aboard the Leviathan in less than an arn's time.
Satisfied that all was clear in their travel sector, she secured her boards. Setting them to alert her immediately should they detect anything suspicious, and then swiveled her post chair around to face the pilot's station.
Berret had been silent after the battle, and then she saw the grim set of his jaw, as he was lost somewhere in his own thoughts. The Nebari sighed deeply again at the view of the tall lanky Shrike.
During the battle, the ex-assassin had been cool and calculating. He'd even given that death-head's grin during the fight while he quickly described to her his plan to use the senor sails against their enemies. And she knew that was only leftover conditioning from having been a Shrike Enforcer for the Black Syndicate. She wouldn't want to mention it, but that distasteful personality trait had saved their eemas on more than one occasion. And it always seemed to present itself just when need, that is, when things turned violent.
Berret had a hard time dealing with the fact that he felt he had so little control over it; it seemed to slip in without him realizing it until he reacted.
The gray-skinned thief frowned for a moment. She well knew that she herself could be extremely violent… and merciless upon occasion when it's called for. That was just life out here in the Territories.
And you either learned that lesson quick, or somebody nastier taught it too you as the final lesson you would ever learn.
Sometimes when Berret got like this – Chiana wanted to punch him!
She wanted to hit him – because some solar day she feared he was going to make the mistake of stopping that part of himself from stepping in and taking over – and that he would die for it because he hesitated too long. She wanted to slap him until she could make him understand, you need that part of yourself to survive out here… so its not all bad.
She wanted to kick him in the eema to get it through his thick male skull – I don't wanna lose you like I have so many other people, and things in my life!
At the same moment, she wanted to hug him to death… because his concern for the results of his behavior was the same extraordinary trait that she had grown to love in John over all this time.
Killing was a necessary evil. As long as you didn't grow to enjoy it, like a lot of beings they had encountered did. A little remorse for having to do it was okay; maybe it was good for the soul.
But she wished Berret wouldn't take it to such extreme and wallow in it so often.
Chiana briefly found herself looking back over her own past suddenly, at all the times she had to take a life to save her own or a friend's. She had to admit, there were more times she'd killed and been happy she'd done it then she'd like to own up too. Even if that person was a royal bastard – or bitch – or other - and they needed killing.
It may be that her own soul needed some polishing she concluded.
Well, such spiritual things were in Zhaan's realm at any rate. For the time being, Berret did enough soul searching for the both of them. And the strangest thing is she'd heard him mutter countless times that he doubted he even possessed a soul in the first place!
It would be funny, if it weren't so damned sad.
So she appointed herself to be the safety check that kept him from sinking too far down into his own guilt.
That was just the condition of their relationship right now.
"We didn't ask for this, you know?" she said to him, in an even, matter-of-fact tone.
Berret looked up with a sharp jerk of his head, almost as if he'd forgotten she was aboard the Wraith with him.
"What?" he asked. It was clear that he missed what she had said.
"This. The bounty hunters. We did ask them to keep coming after us," she expanded.
The Shrike nodded his head, and he surprised her by turning his own seat toward her. Usually Berret tried to avoid discussing such things with her if he were able.
"I know," was all he said for the moment.
"They could have broken off anytime. Or not chased us at all. They decided to push it this far… all for a few credits," Chiana continued. "We were just defending ourselves."
Berret gave her a tired smile that was tiny and thin at best.
"I know this also," he replied. "There are times when others will give you no other choice but to kill… or they will kill you instead."
The Nebari girl's dark eyebrows shot up in interest. She had expected this to be a replay of other similar conversations where she had to reassure him that they'd done what they had to.
The tall ex-assassin could see the thought in her eyes.
"I do pay attention to you, and seriously consider what you tell me during our…'discussions'," he said as an explanation, referring to their other talks on the matter.
Chiana stretched her legs out from the chair, and crossed her thin arms across her chest as she regarded him. Briefly, she thought a nice mug of Raslek would be nice just then, and idly wondered if there would be any in the ship's stores, if she wanted to be bothered to get up and look.
"But that was not what I was thinking of," the ex-assassin added.
"So what's on your mind now," she queried. The Raslek search would have to wait a few moments.
Berret drew his lips in tightly as he thought his answer over. He even took a few microts to tap a forefinger against his chin. Chiana suppressed a giggle as she recognized the gesture that he had picked up from Crichton. Berret was a great mimic and had adopted many odd quirks from the rest of the crew as his own. Sometimes she wondered if he realized he was even doing it.
Her favorite adaptation he'd developed had to be the Nebari head tilt, she found herself thinking.
"I find myself… considering the future," he finally enlightened.
Chiana slightly perked up in her seat. This indeed was something different. Berret almost never seemed to think about the road ahead, of everyone she's ever met, never before had she encounter anyone else who lived solely in the moment as the ex-Enforcer did. Zhaan had predicted that as time passed, her friend would expanded his horizons, that his thought processes and interests would progress more toward a normal person's. The older Delvian had also hinted that Chiana's influences might be a major factor in what direction Berret developed.
Chiana hated all that mental cobbity-ghook, but had to admit sometimes even she could see that Zhaan had a point when things worked out just as she said they would.
"Anything special you're thinking about?" the Nebari girl gently probed. She did not want to make much of a big issue of the subject, or Berret was liable to "Mollusk-up" as Crichton said. She thought something wasn't quite right with the Erp slang as soon as it ran through her mind. Unable to help herself, she quickly went through several variations including: mussel, gaper, scallop, and quahog but none of them seemed right either. That's the problem with John's little sayings – most of them didn't translate over to make much sense. But that's what made them so much fun!
Unfortunately, the only thing she accomplished with this little mental exercise was to make herself hungry thinking about exotic seafood! She gave up on the brief sidetrack for a moment, and turned her attention back to her crewmate and friend.
"I was wondering if there will ever come a time," Berret was saying, "When we will not be constantly looking over our shoulder for pursuit. Will we ever know peace?"
Chiana was nearly speechless. That was quite the heavy thought for the ex-assassin. She found herself becoming generally impressed… and proud for him!
"That's something… I don't think I'd ever thought I'd hear you ask," she replied.
Berret pursed his lips again.
"Zhaan has been speaking of it lately… during our Unity sessions," he explained. "She believes that one day… we will all be able to stop running."
Chiana smiled at him. She'd heard the talk before from the Priestess.
"She has faith," the Nebari thief told him.
"Faith?" repeated Berret. The concept was obviously foreign to him.
The gray girl nodded. "Zhaan has faith, that one day we'll be safe. That we can stop running and hiding… and start living."
Berret frowned deeply.
"I believe today proves that her 'faith' is in error," he said. "Our enemies are many, while we are but a few. Logic dictates that it is only a matter of time before we lose."
Instead of becoming morose with his reasoning, Chiana's smile grew even brighter.
"That's the wonderful thing about faith. It has nothing to do with logic," she countered.
"I do not understand your reasoning?"
She turned her smile into a firm uplifting of her silky black lips, and rose from her seat to move forward and kneel down in front of him. Berret watched her approach with unconcealed curiosity.
She reached forward and took his hands in hers, talking a moment to reflect in the wonder between the difference in them, hers so small, gray, and delicate, his so large, hard and callused.
"Faith is something you have, just because it feels right," she explained. She propped up his hands so he could regard them too. "For example – I have faith that these hands will always be there for me when I need them. That they would never harm me for any reason. If I fall - that they would catch me, if I need to be held – they would hold me. And I believe everything I said without having to fall… or be told… or even ask."
Berret tilted his head in that Nebari-like fashion and she almost grinned at the gesture, but kept it off her face. This was one of the times she needed to be serious if she was to make her point with him.
"How can you be so sure?" he asked, "I could be killed in the next battle. Be far away elsewhere the moment you fall. Or perhaps have another collar ruminate relapse, and harm or kill anyone. Nothing is ever certain."
Chiana shrugged at him.
"That's the wonder and mystery of faith. You have some degree of faith yourself and you don't realize it."
"I believe you are mistaken. I believe only in definable facts," he responded.
"Do you trust me?" she asked out of nowhere.
Berret stumbled at the sudden odd question.
"Again, I do not understand?"
"Just answer the question. Do you trust me? Do you really trust me?"
The Shrike's brow furrowed in wild bewilderment.
"Yes," he finally replied a few microts later. Wondering if the girl has just asked him a trick question.
Chiana's lips drew wider in odd satisfaction.
"Why?" she asked next.
The Shrike's features went abruptly blank, but it was the blankness of utter confoundment instead of the normal absence of emotion he usually wore.
"You don't really know why, do you?" she filled in for him.
"No. Not really," he admitted a moment later. "It has never occurred to me not too. I realize you steal, you lie, you manipulate, you purposely misdirect…"
"All right! All right!" Chiana said as she realized Berret meant to go on listing her more devious attributes in full.
"But I was meaning to point out, you never hid those characteristics from me, and in the total scope of the matter, they are small…'faults', for lack of a better word. Never-the-less, I would not hesitate to trust you with my life… and I do not know why? Or when this state of fact came to be?"
Berret look now as if he were unsure about himself, not being able to pinpoint exactly how this factor of their relationship came to exist between them.
Chiana gripped his hands tighter to draw his attention back to her.
"That's because you have 'faith'. Faith in me," she told him. "And that's the greatest gift – anyone – has ever given to me."
She looked deep into his eyes.
"And that's part of the reason, I can give the same gift back to you," she added. "And I can't began to tell you how good that feels to me."
The Shrike appeared to be giving her words a great deal of thought. Chiana knew a good point to leave off the topic when she seen it and returned back to her seat to watch over her instruments. She still stole the occasional glance at the man in the pilot's seat, and soon realized his mood was lifting slightly as he considered what she had said to him.
They spent the rest of the trip back to Moya in companionable silence. And Chiana found she was proud of herself, not only for the way she handled herself during the combat with the hunters, but about how she had gracefully managed the aftermath with Berret.
The guidance she had given had been the most satisfying accomplishment of the day by far.
Strangely, she found herself looking forward to providing more to her friend as their relationship grew and matured.
It was almost like being a grown-up.
Her lips twisted in a sideways smirk as she considered the thought further.
"But perhaps it might be better to not become too much of a grown-up," she thought. "After all – we gotta have some fun, don't we?"