FLIGHT: Part 1
Flight has previously been posted at Redbeard's under my other handle, Cinder.
Setting: The story takes place just before Eat Me and has spoilers from the first two seasons.
Disclaimer: Farscape belongs to the Jim Henson Company, Hallmark Entertainment, Nine Network Australia and the Sci-fi Channel.
Notes: Thank you to my beta readers Jilacosa and DJ3cats.
I appreciate any feedback. Thanks for reading!
* * *
"What the frell is it doing?" D'Argo asked, monitoring the distant object from the command control panel.
Still barely visible at maximum magnification, an unidentified shape darted back and forth. It hovered for a microt, then surged forward and stopped dead in space. Although erratic, its distinct course changes and rapid accelerations suggested a power source rather than an anomaly or debris. Scans confirmed the presence of a nongaseous mass somewhat smaller than Moya.
"Are we close enough to establish contact?" Aeryn asked.
"No, we have not been able to open communications," Pilot answered. "Moya wants to move closer."
"Whoa! Just hold your horses there," John yelled from in front of the viewing port. "This thing has definitely got some sort of bug up its butt." He wheeled to face Aeryn at the guidance station. "What do you make of that?"
She frowned and shook her head.
"Perhaps we should just leave," D'Argo suggested, then mumbled as an afterthought, "while we still can."
The entity's movements resembled a caged scent hound as it spurted in one direction, jerked to a standstill, pivoted, paused, and then accelerated the opposite way. If manned, the vessel's crew did not give any indication that they were aware of the Leviathan's presence.
"Moya wishes to approach—"
"No!" the three shouted in unison.
"Until we know what we are dealing with," Aeryn said, "it might be best to keep our distance."
"A contagion of some sort?" D'Argo asked.
John flexed a halfhearted grin. "Peacekeepers hitting the raslak?"
Pilot's tone darkened reflecting Moya's growing anxiety. "Moya has seen this type of behavior before. Though not common, it has been observed in Leviathans that have lost their, well—"
"For frell sake, spit it out," D'Argo demanded. "Lost their what?"
Pilot's answer was slow in coming. "Stability," he finally said.
John grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. "You mean like equilibrium? Something we can clear up with a few hundred gallons of ear drops?"
"Well no, not exactly," Pilot answered.
D'Argo's fingers stabbed the panel in a futile attempt to pull up a schematic of the object. "Then what type of stability are we talking about?" he asked, growing increasingly irritated. "Loss of directional control? Gravitational stabilizers? What?"
"Loss of sanity," Pilot said. "I am afraid there is more. Moya is extremely worried. She is concerned that it might be, that it could be…"
Although brief, the ensuing silenced lasted long enough for them all to visualize the possibilities. D'Argo activated the comm and shouted for the remainder of the crew to report to command.
Talyn?" Aeryn asked under her breath, her eyes anxiously fixed on John.
"Shit," he spat, his face instantly flushed with anger. "That's just great." He paced half the length of command before turning to scorch her with a blistering glare. "And where do we think he might have picked that up? Damn! It's bad enough that lunatic's out there on the loose, now the scumbag's contagious."
Aeryn's eyes narrowed into dark slits. She hastily closed the gap between them until a mere henta separated her face from his. "We don't know that's Talyn, John. We don't know that Crais has anything to do with it. So before you start assigning blame, maybe, just maybe—"
"Excuse me," D'Argo interrupted loudly.
"Blame?" John laughed. "Who would possibly be to blame for giving a Leviathan loaded to the nuts with firepower to a madman?"
"People!" D'Argo yelled.
"What!" they both shouted.
At that instant Chiana rushed through the doorway, halting abruptly in the middle of command. She stared out the viewing port, her head dipped questioningly to one side. "What's Talyn doing here?" she asked.
"Oh frell," muttered John.
Moya had instinctively hailed Talyn the microt she suspected the distraught vessel might be her son. He had responded instantly. Confused and exhausted, the young hybrid's sleek frame rested alongside her now, brushing her lightly for comfort like a boat bobbing in a gentle wake. There were no visible wounds on him and sensors did not register any internal damage. Scans failed to locate foreign bodies on board or any earlier presence of invasion or attack. Weapons, propulsion, tactical control, every system checked out fully functional and command ready, yet Talyn was far from being operational.
Moya refused to share any information until Talyn's condition stabilized. Half an arn after his arrival, Pilot finally began to explain.
"It seems there has been a falling out between Talyn and Captain Crais."
"Oh, do tell," John said smugly, grinning stupidly at an unusually quiet Aeryn. "I say we go over there and lock that freller's ass up before he does anymore damage."
"But Commander Crichton," Pilot said, "Moya wants you to—"
"You tell Moya not to worry. We're going to rid her son of that parasite once and for all. Are you with me D'Argo?"
"I'm with you," the Luxon replied robustly.
"Stark? Pip? Ry—"
"Commander Crichton!" Pilot shouted. "Moya would like you to shut up!"
Every eyebrow in the room shot toward the ceiling.
"Captain Crais was not the problem. Talyn was entirely to blame."
"Pilot, are you sure?" Aeryn asked. "Talyn is only a child."
"Yeah, yeah. A baby," said Chiana.
"A big, big baby," said Jool, gazing wide-eyed out the port.
"Apparently Talyn wanted to incinerate an asteroid field," Pilot continued. "In the past Captain Crais had let Talyn destroy asteroids for target practice and exercise. It was their way of having fun."
"That sounds just like our good ol' Captain Crunch," John blurted.
Aeryn gave him a sour look. "Go on, Pilot."
"However, this particular time Captain Crais felt it might be too dangerous. Six arns earlier they had detected a hetch signature possibly from a Peacekeeper vessel. He was concerned that the blasts and the resulting debris might draw unnecessary attention to them. Talyn disagreed. He became furious with Crais for ordering him to power down his weapons."
"Yotz," snorted Rygel. "That is all this whole commotion is about? You interrupted my lunch over a disagreement about blowing up some rocks? "
"No, it is Captain Crais," Pilot continued to explain. "He is missing. Talyn is unable to locate him."
John let out a boisterous whoop and clapped his hands together.
D'Argo's confused expression was not the only one in the room. "And that's a problem?" he asked.
"Hey, ask Talyn if he checked in the john," John said with a hearty laugh. The others all looked at him very curiously. He laughed again realizing they probably thought the translator microbes had screwed this one up big time. "Oh, ah . . . the john. On Earth that's what we call a toilet."
"Why the hezmana would your parents name you Toilet?" D'Argo asked.
"No, let me explain here. You see it's the john, not, John. See the difference?" His smile evaporated. He folded his arms and cleared his throat. "Missing huh? How did that happen, Pilot?"
"Captain Crais has left Talyn."
"Why would he leave?" Aeryn asked.
Pilot did not answer immediately. Moya was having great difficulty sharing the remainder of the details. Her son had behaved quite badly and what the crew was about to hear might cloud their feelings toward him. Still, Crais had stolen him from them; perhaps the expeacekeeper had gotten exactly what he deserved.
"Pilot?" Aeryn asked firmly.
"Talyn has no idea of Captain Crais's whereabouts. His remorse for his actions and his concern for his friend are causing him great distress. Apparently Crais removed the transponder and escaped aboard the transport pod almost a weeken ago. Without the transponder Talyn has been completely unable to sense or track him. To make matters worse, Talyn has discovered there definitely is a Peacekeeper marauder patrolling this sector. He narrowly avoided detection in his diminished condition."
Stark's eye narrowed. "Escaped?"
Pilot nodded slightly. "Yes, it seems that Talyn, well . . . hurt him."
"The poor baby," John muttered under his breath to D'Argo.
"We're not talking hurt feelings here, are we Pilot?" Aeryn asked.
"No, I am afraid not." Pilot shared Moya's embarrassment. He wished he did not have to tell them the rest. Yet, Moya would need the entire crew's help if Talyn was ever going to find his Captain. Talyn was simply too young and inexperienced to operate without him.
"Out with it, already," snorted Rygel.
"Perhaps you should all just watch," said Pilot.
Crais's appearance on the replay screen instantly commanded the crew's undivided attention. His long black hair, always so carefully groomed, spiraled in damp unruly tendrils around his face and shoulders. His dark skin glistened with perspiration. The distinct outline of his ubiquitous goatee had faded into several days' growth of dark stubble. Instead of his standard attire, a smartly fitted black tunic, he wore a loose sleeveless white shirt, its appearance suggesting he had slept in it for a weeken.
"Talyn, please listen to me." His chest heaved, each raspy breath an effort. "You must adjust the climate regulator to lower the temperature. I cannot continue under these conditions." He lightly stroked the ship's hull and waited, his face etched deeply with apprehension. "Talyn?" He clenched his teeth at the responding beeps and whistles. "No, you must not use your weapons." His voice was strained, yet remained firm. "As I have already explained, we cannot, we must not risk—"
Beep. Beep. Beep. A shrill, earsplitting whistle accompanied the flashes of light progressing sequentially across the control panel.
Crais lost control of his temper. "Absolutely not!" he shouted, smacking the panel with his fist. "I absolutely forbid it! Now lower the frelling temperature in here. Do you hear me?"
It remained eerily silent.
He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply then slowly releasing each breath until his anger subsided. He cautiously extended his hand to the Leviathan's hull and rubbed the rough covering in slow caressing strokes. As the microts passed without response he broadened the movements and continued the massage gently using both hands. He stopped suddenly, eyes wide. "Talyn, do not do this. Leave the gravitational stabilizer settings exactly as they are. Talyn!" Crais set his jaw. "I order you to cease this—"
A sudden violent pitch of the ship slammed Crais off the command wall, landing him in an undignified heap on the floor. Before he could regain his feet, Talyn quickly executed a sharp 360-degree roll in the opposite direction. The maneuver hurtled Crais from floor to ceiling, banged him off the wall, and then dumped him back onto the floor. The ship continued to twist and spin, pounding Crais from one side of the hull to the other as command rained debris and DRDs. When Talyn finally stopped and reinstated the normal gravitation levels, Crais dropped unconscious to the floor where he remained sprawled in a limp pile.
The transmission ended.
"Holy shit," muttered John.
"So you see why Moya is so upset about this," Pilot said. "It appears that Captain Crais really was trying to do what was best for young Talyn."
"Are we certain that Crais survived the attack?" Aeryn asked.
"Yes, it was with great difficulty, but he managed to get to the transport pod and leave."
John shook his head in disbelief. "Oh man, I bet that smarts."
D'Argo nodded, grinning.
Stark appeared confused. "Why didn't Talyn just follow Crais if he was so worried about him?"
"Because he was embarrassed," Pilot answered.
John chuckled. "Embarrassed? Damn, Pilot, you tell the little guy that we're mighty proud of him."
"No, we are not!" Aeryn shouted.
"We're not?" asked D'Argo.
"What is the matter with you two? Look out there and tell me what the frell you see?
"D'Argo looked, shrugged. "Talyn?"
"That's right, it's Talyn," Chiana chirped.
Stark sidled up to Aeryn, his expression grave. He nodded slowly. "Yes, you are quite right. I'm afraid you are absolutely right."
"Okay, I give up," said John. "Just what the hell are you so right about, Aeryn?"
"He's nearly as big as Moya, John. He's covered with enough weaponry to knock out a planet. He almost killed the one person he truly cares about and he's so unstable he can barely fly." Aeryn paused a microt, folding her arms across her chest, an eyebrow arched. "Do you see a problem with this picture?"
"Of course not," huffed Rygel. "Not so long as we don't antagonize him. It would also appear we have one less Peacekeeper to contend with."
"That Peacekeeper saved your butt, or whatever you wish to call that smelly thing," she reminded him caustically.
"Crais? Is that the one we don't particularly like?" asked Jool.
"Oh shut up," Chiana snapped.
"Both of you shut up," Aeryn snarled.
John stepped in quickly to separate the women. "I don't care what you say, Aeryn. I'm certain Crais brought this upon himself. Besides, Talyn has calmed down now. Once a couple of us go over and reassure him he'll forget all about Bialar Crais."
"I would not try that if I were you," warned Pilot. "Despite Moya's insistence to the contrary, Talyn has indicated he will shoot the first one of you who tries to come on board."
"Are we starting to see the problem now?" Stark asked.
John grunted and exchanged a dismal glance with D'Argo.
"You are wrong about Captain Crais," Pilot said with resolve. "Even Moya, who has every reason to despise him, believes that Talyn was to blame in this instance. That is why she intends to help Talyn search for him."
"Ah Jeez, Pilot, talk to her," John whined. "This is insane. Trust me on this one. We don't want this cockroach back."
"Moya has risked her life repeatedly for all of you," Pilot reminded them.
Aeryn gripped John's arm and forced him back into the corner with D'Argo following close behind.
"Use your head," she whispered. "We have no choice but to help Talyn search for Crais. That doesn't mean we actually have to find him. We only have to look as though we're trying. For all we know he could be dead. It is hard telling how serious his injuries were. He could not starburst and had no means of defending himself against a Marauder."
D'Argo gave a sly smile. "And just think what Talyn can do for us once we've earned his gratitude."
"Ah yes," said John, " just look what he did for Crais."
Aeryn's expression acknowledged that concern.
"Do we tell the others?" D'Argo asked.
John nodded. "Sparky'll go for it. So will Stark."
"Chiana too," D'Argo agreed. "But Jool—"
"We don't tell," Aeryn said firmly.
"Agreed," said the men.
End part 1
Flight has previously been posted at Redbeard's under my other handle, Cinder.
Setting: The story takes place just before Eat Me and has spoilers from the first two seasons.
Disclaimer: Farscape belongs to the Jim Henson Company, Hallmark Entertainment, Nine Network Australia and the Sci-fi Channel.
Notes: Thank you to my beta readers Jilacosa and DJ3cats.
I appreciate any feedback. Thanks for reading!
* * *
"What the frell is it doing?" D'Argo asked, monitoring the distant object from the command control panel.
Still barely visible at maximum magnification, an unidentified shape darted back and forth. It hovered for a microt, then surged forward and stopped dead in space. Although erratic, its distinct course changes and rapid accelerations suggested a power source rather than an anomaly or debris. Scans confirmed the presence of a nongaseous mass somewhat smaller than Moya.
"Are we close enough to establish contact?" Aeryn asked.
"No, we have not been able to open communications," Pilot answered. "Moya wants to move closer."
"Whoa! Just hold your horses there," John yelled from in front of the viewing port. "This thing has definitely got some sort of bug up its butt." He wheeled to face Aeryn at the guidance station. "What do you make of that?"
She frowned and shook her head.
"Perhaps we should just leave," D'Argo suggested, then mumbled as an afterthought, "while we still can."
The entity's movements resembled a caged scent hound as it spurted in one direction, jerked to a standstill, pivoted, paused, and then accelerated the opposite way. If manned, the vessel's crew did not give any indication that they were aware of the Leviathan's presence.
"Moya wishes to approach—"
"No!" the three shouted in unison.
"Until we know what we are dealing with," Aeryn said, "it might be best to keep our distance."
"A contagion of some sort?" D'Argo asked.
John flexed a halfhearted grin. "Peacekeepers hitting the raslak?"
Pilot's tone darkened reflecting Moya's growing anxiety. "Moya has seen this type of behavior before. Though not common, it has been observed in Leviathans that have lost their, well—"
"For frell sake, spit it out," D'Argo demanded. "Lost their what?"
Pilot's answer was slow in coming. "Stability," he finally said.
John grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. "You mean like equilibrium? Something we can clear up with a few hundred gallons of ear drops?"
"Well no, not exactly," Pilot answered.
D'Argo's fingers stabbed the panel in a futile attempt to pull up a schematic of the object. "Then what type of stability are we talking about?" he asked, growing increasingly irritated. "Loss of directional control? Gravitational stabilizers? What?"
"Loss of sanity," Pilot said. "I am afraid there is more. Moya is extremely worried. She is concerned that it might be, that it could be…"
Although brief, the ensuing silenced lasted long enough for them all to visualize the possibilities. D'Argo activated the comm and shouted for the remainder of the crew to report to command.
Talyn?" Aeryn asked under her breath, her eyes anxiously fixed on John.
"Shit," he spat, his face instantly flushed with anger. "That's just great." He paced half the length of command before turning to scorch her with a blistering glare. "And where do we think he might have picked that up? Damn! It's bad enough that lunatic's out there on the loose, now the scumbag's contagious."
Aeryn's eyes narrowed into dark slits. She hastily closed the gap between them until a mere henta separated her face from his. "We don't know that's Talyn, John. We don't know that Crais has anything to do with it. So before you start assigning blame, maybe, just maybe—"
"Excuse me," D'Argo interrupted loudly.
"Blame?" John laughed. "Who would possibly be to blame for giving a Leviathan loaded to the nuts with firepower to a madman?"
"People!" D'Argo yelled.
"What!" they both shouted.
At that instant Chiana rushed through the doorway, halting abruptly in the middle of command. She stared out the viewing port, her head dipped questioningly to one side. "What's Talyn doing here?" she asked.
"Oh frell," muttered John.
Moya had instinctively hailed Talyn the microt she suspected the distraught vessel might be her son. He had responded instantly. Confused and exhausted, the young hybrid's sleek frame rested alongside her now, brushing her lightly for comfort like a boat bobbing in a gentle wake. There were no visible wounds on him and sensors did not register any internal damage. Scans failed to locate foreign bodies on board or any earlier presence of invasion or attack. Weapons, propulsion, tactical control, every system checked out fully functional and command ready, yet Talyn was far from being operational.
Moya refused to share any information until Talyn's condition stabilized. Half an arn after his arrival, Pilot finally began to explain.
"It seems there has been a falling out between Talyn and Captain Crais."
"Oh, do tell," John said smugly, grinning stupidly at an unusually quiet Aeryn. "I say we go over there and lock that freller's ass up before he does anymore damage."
"But Commander Crichton," Pilot said, "Moya wants you to—"
"You tell Moya not to worry. We're going to rid her son of that parasite once and for all. Are you with me D'Argo?"
"I'm with you," the Luxon replied robustly.
"Stark? Pip? Ry—"
"Commander Crichton!" Pilot shouted. "Moya would like you to shut up!"
Every eyebrow in the room shot toward the ceiling.
"Captain Crais was not the problem. Talyn was entirely to blame."
"Pilot, are you sure?" Aeryn asked. "Talyn is only a child."
"Yeah, yeah. A baby," said Chiana.
"A big, big baby," said Jool, gazing wide-eyed out the port.
"Apparently Talyn wanted to incinerate an asteroid field," Pilot continued. "In the past Captain Crais had let Talyn destroy asteroids for target practice and exercise. It was their way of having fun."
"That sounds just like our good ol' Captain Crunch," John blurted.
Aeryn gave him a sour look. "Go on, Pilot."
"However, this particular time Captain Crais felt it might be too dangerous. Six arns earlier they had detected a hetch signature possibly from a Peacekeeper vessel. He was concerned that the blasts and the resulting debris might draw unnecessary attention to them. Talyn disagreed. He became furious with Crais for ordering him to power down his weapons."
"Yotz," snorted Rygel. "That is all this whole commotion is about? You interrupted my lunch over a disagreement about blowing up some rocks? "
"No, it is Captain Crais," Pilot continued to explain. "He is missing. Talyn is unable to locate him."
John let out a boisterous whoop and clapped his hands together.
D'Argo's confused expression was not the only one in the room. "And that's a problem?" he asked.
"Hey, ask Talyn if he checked in the john," John said with a hearty laugh. The others all looked at him very curiously. He laughed again realizing they probably thought the translator microbes had screwed this one up big time. "Oh, ah . . . the john. On Earth that's what we call a toilet."
"Why the hezmana would your parents name you Toilet?" D'Argo asked.
"No, let me explain here. You see it's the john, not, John. See the difference?" His smile evaporated. He folded his arms and cleared his throat. "Missing huh? How did that happen, Pilot?"
"Captain Crais has left Talyn."
"Why would he leave?" Aeryn asked.
Pilot did not answer immediately. Moya was having great difficulty sharing the remainder of the details. Her son had behaved quite badly and what the crew was about to hear might cloud their feelings toward him. Still, Crais had stolen him from them; perhaps the expeacekeeper had gotten exactly what he deserved.
"Pilot?" Aeryn asked firmly.
"Talyn has no idea of Captain Crais's whereabouts. His remorse for his actions and his concern for his friend are causing him great distress. Apparently Crais removed the transponder and escaped aboard the transport pod almost a weeken ago. Without the transponder Talyn has been completely unable to sense or track him. To make matters worse, Talyn has discovered there definitely is a Peacekeeper marauder patrolling this sector. He narrowly avoided detection in his diminished condition."
Stark's eye narrowed. "Escaped?"
Pilot nodded slightly. "Yes, it seems that Talyn, well . . . hurt him."
"The poor baby," John muttered under his breath to D'Argo.
"We're not talking hurt feelings here, are we Pilot?" Aeryn asked.
"No, I am afraid not." Pilot shared Moya's embarrassment. He wished he did not have to tell them the rest. Yet, Moya would need the entire crew's help if Talyn was ever going to find his Captain. Talyn was simply too young and inexperienced to operate without him.
"Out with it, already," snorted Rygel.
"Perhaps you should all just watch," said Pilot.
Crais's appearance on the replay screen instantly commanded the crew's undivided attention. His long black hair, always so carefully groomed, spiraled in damp unruly tendrils around his face and shoulders. His dark skin glistened with perspiration. The distinct outline of his ubiquitous goatee had faded into several days' growth of dark stubble. Instead of his standard attire, a smartly fitted black tunic, he wore a loose sleeveless white shirt, its appearance suggesting he had slept in it for a weeken.
"Talyn, please listen to me." His chest heaved, each raspy breath an effort. "You must adjust the climate regulator to lower the temperature. I cannot continue under these conditions." He lightly stroked the ship's hull and waited, his face etched deeply with apprehension. "Talyn?" He clenched his teeth at the responding beeps and whistles. "No, you must not use your weapons." His voice was strained, yet remained firm. "As I have already explained, we cannot, we must not risk—"
Beep. Beep. Beep. A shrill, earsplitting whistle accompanied the flashes of light progressing sequentially across the control panel.
Crais lost control of his temper. "Absolutely not!" he shouted, smacking the panel with his fist. "I absolutely forbid it! Now lower the frelling temperature in here. Do you hear me?"
It remained eerily silent.
He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply then slowly releasing each breath until his anger subsided. He cautiously extended his hand to the Leviathan's hull and rubbed the rough covering in slow caressing strokes. As the microts passed without response he broadened the movements and continued the massage gently using both hands. He stopped suddenly, eyes wide. "Talyn, do not do this. Leave the gravitational stabilizer settings exactly as they are. Talyn!" Crais set his jaw. "I order you to cease this—"
A sudden violent pitch of the ship slammed Crais off the command wall, landing him in an undignified heap on the floor. Before he could regain his feet, Talyn quickly executed a sharp 360-degree roll in the opposite direction. The maneuver hurtled Crais from floor to ceiling, banged him off the wall, and then dumped him back onto the floor. The ship continued to twist and spin, pounding Crais from one side of the hull to the other as command rained debris and DRDs. When Talyn finally stopped and reinstated the normal gravitation levels, Crais dropped unconscious to the floor where he remained sprawled in a limp pile.
The transmission ended.
"Holy shit," muttered John.
"So you see why Moya is so upset about this," Pilot said. "It appears that Captain Crais really was trying to do what was best for young Talyn."
"Are we certain that Crais survived the attack?" Aeryn asked.
"Yes, it was with great difficulty, but he managed to get to the transport pod and leave."
John shook his head in disbelief. "Oh man, I bet that smarts."
D'Argo nodded, grinning.
Stark appeared confused. "Why didn't Talyn just follow Crais if he was so worried about him?"
"Because he was embarrassed," Pilot answered.
John chuckled. "Embarrassed? Damn, Pilot, you tell the little guy that we're mighty proud of him."
"No, we are not!" Aeryn shouted.
"We're not?" asked D'Argo.
"What is the matter with you two? Look out there and tell me what the frell you see?
"D'Argo looked, shrugged. "Talyn?"
"That's right, it's Talyn," Chiana chirped.
Stark sidled up to Aeryn, his expression grave. He nodded slowly. "Yes, you are quite right. I'm afraid you are absolutely right."
"Okay, I give up," said John. "Just what the hell are you so right about, Aeryn?"
"He's nearly as big as Moya, John. He's covered with enough weaponry to knock out a planet. He almost killed the one person he truly cares about and he's so unstable he can barely fly." Aeryn paused a microt, folding her arms across her chest, an eyebrow arched. "Do you see a problem with this picture?"
"Of course not," huffed Rygel. "Not so long as we don't antagonize him. It would also appear we have one less Peacekeeper to contend with."
"That Peacekeeper saved your butt, or whatever you wish to call that smelly thing," she reminded him caustically.
"Crais? Is that the one we don't particularly like?" asked Jool.
"Oh shut up," Chiana snapped.
"Both of you shut up," Aeryn snarled.
John stepped in quickly to separate the women. "I don't care what you say, Aeryn. I'm certain Crais brought this upon himself. Besides, Talyn has calmed down now. Once a couple of us go over and reassure him he'll forget all about Bialar Crais."
"I would not try that if I were you," warned Pilot. "Despite Moya's insistence to the contrary, Talyn has indicated he will shoot the first one of you who tries to come on board."
"Are we starting to see the problem now?" Stark asked.
John grunted and exchanged a dismal glance with D'Argo.
"You are wrong about Captain Crais," Pilot said with resolve. "Even Moya, who has every reason to despise him, believes that Talyn was to blame in this instance. That is why she intends to help Talyn search for him."
"Ah Jeez, Pilot, talk to her," John whined. "This is insane. Trust me on this one. We don't want this cockroach back."
"Moya has risked her life repeatedly for all of you," Pilot reminded them.
Aeryn gripped John's arm and forced him back into the corner with D'Argo following close behind.
"Use your head," she whispered. "We have no choice but to help Talyn search for Crais. That doesn't mean we actually have to find him. We only have to look as though we're trying. For all we know he could be dead. It is hard telling how serious his injuries were. He could not starburst and had no means of defending himself against a Marauder."
D'Argo gave a sly smile. "And just think what Talyn can do for us once we've earned his gratitude."
"Ah yes," said John, " just look what he did for Crais."
Aeryn's expression acknowledged that concern.
"Do we tell the others?" D'Argo asked.
John nodded. "Sparky'll go for it. So will Stark."
"Chiana too," D'Argo agreed. "But Jool—"
"We don't tell," Aeryn said firmly.
"Agreed," said the men.
End part 1