TITLE
Epilogue to Infinite Possibilities: Crais Considers
AUTHOR
'newscaper' on the SciFi Channel Farscape Bulletin Board
Written in August 2001, originally posted on the SFC BB.
RATING
PG
DISCLAIMER
The usual. All characters property of Henson Company, et. al. No intent to profit from this depiction.
CATEGORY
Episode Filler/Addition for Infinite Possibilities: Icarus Abides
COMMENTS
This follows within a week after Talyn John's death in S3's IP:IA. I wrote this wanting to explore whether Crais had really changed or not after accepting John's deathbed charge. I'd seen no one, at that time, cover the funeral so I thought I'd also try to touch on that.
I wrote this BEFORE The Choice so you'll have to excuse my Aeryn who is not quite that big a basket case. We'll just have to pretend she backslid in dealing with her grief .
------------------
*Crais Considers*
Bialar Crais, former PeaceKeeper Captain, renegade master of the Leviathan gunship Talyn, and newly appointed guardian of his remaining passengers harshly muttered "Frell" as he tried to resist the urge to rub his itching, red-rimmed eyes for the hundredth time.
"No, Talyn, nothing is wrong, just some minor discomfort," he said in response to the ship's warbled query. He returned to visually scanning the starfield in the forward screen as well as the manual overrides and displays, a habit he fully kept even after he became accustomed to the direct interface through the transponder at the base of his neck.
His vision had already essentially recovered from the neural backlash when Talyn's sensors were recently fried by the solar flares, but some irritation persisted. This was aggravated by the fact he had continuously stood watch in Command for 62 of the last 70 arns, except for a few brief forays for repairs that absolutely could not wait.
The ship bleeped again.
"Yes, I know I need rest, but now is not the time. Aeryn is indisposed, and you know the others are of limited use in our current situation."
Mentioning the non-Sebaceans reminded him to scan the interior of the ship again to check on the others. He refused to "look" into what had passed as Aeryn and Crichton's quarters, but nearby DRD's and other sensors confirmed Aeryn's life signs were within acceptable norms. It appeared she might be stirring from what had been her first fitful sleep since Crichton's deep-space burial.
Scanning further through Talyn he found that Rygel was still in the galley indulging his grief in the way of his species. Apparently the pace of his gorging had slowed in the last half arn, but Crais decided it finally time to stop him to avoid a repeat of the Hynerian's recent drexim-induced incapacitation. The Sebacean grimaced as he recalled the humiliation of his previous encounter with the binging, defiant little slug. He attempted to shrug off his irritation before opening comms and trying a different tactic.
"Rygel, I must ask you to stop now. There is no telling when we will next be able to replenish ship's stores."
The dominar ignored him so Crais gritted his teeth and lowered himself...
"Besides, you must be healthy in case Talyn and I need to take advantage of your skills in deception and negotiation. It appears we will soon enter a region with greater ship traffic."
Fortunately that seemed to finally penetrate the little leathery, whiskered skull. Rygel finished the last half-eaten marjole and backed the throne sled away from the table, muttering "Enough" to himself as he slipped one last small packet of foodcubes into his robes. Crais was reminded how the Hynerian had placed a ludicrously small yet finely crafted wooden box of food cubes into the crate that had served as Crichton's makeshift coffin. At the time it seemed odd, miserly, alongside the small bag of jewels Rygel included with it "for the Journey", but Crais thought he understood the gesture better now.
He continued to scan through the ship and found that Stark was still in the makeshift quarters he shared with Rygel. It wasn't obvious whether he was sleeping or silently meditating, but Crais didn't care which as long as it meant the Bannik had stopped his incessant chanting. He'd had to order him away from the corridor near Aeryn, and, as with Rygel, had to resort to more polite means.
Crais had finally succeeded after telling the Bannik, "Stark, Aeryn is sleeping now and your chanting may only disturb her. You need to be rested in case she requires your assistance when she does awake. And I may need your aid with Talyn later as well. I will comm you if anything changes."
This business of having to persuade at times rather than merely ordering subordinates about still galled, but he'd been learning the hard way recently.
Thoughts of Stark returned him to Crichton's funeral...
Aeryn had decided on a burial in deep interstellar space where the Scarrans could not possibly find John's body and violate it with dissection (or learn any more about his species for that matter), so he was kept in an unused refrigeration unit until Talyn was reasonably clear of pursuit.
When the time came Crais noted how surprisingly well Aeryn was maintaining her composure, until he realized on closer inspection that she looked *fragile*, one word that he never thought would describe Aeryn Sun in a million cycles. Everything went smoothly as those who wished said something privately to Crichton and placed a small token in the container with his body. Then Crais invoked the traditional PeaceKeeper words of final farewell for soldiers and explorers (the only ones he knew) while Stark softly prayed. Those words had long since been empty of meaning to Crais, but for Aeryn's sake that day a part of him hoped they held some truth after all.
But things went "to hezmana in a handbasket" as Crichton used to say as he closed the cover, and Stark helped him wrestle the modified cargo container into the refuse ejection mechanism and closed it. That was when Rygel developed a case of the intons, which in turn caused Aeryn to succumb to her grief and begin to openly weep. Crais caught the wheezing, abashed Dominar's eye and gave him a murderous glare, silently daring him to defile the proceedings with the helium fart which surely would have been his death sentence. But this expression was short-lived, replaced by helpless looks on both their faces as a sobbing Aeryn completely collapsed to the deck.
Fortunately Stark, master of grief as well as death, stepped in, somehow mustering up an expression of effortless serenity as he tried to soothe Aeryn with soft words that were unintelligible to the other two. They seemed to have little effect until Stark started to raise his mask to release his strange healing power when suddenly Aeryn insisted "NO!" and forcibly regained control all by herself. After another moment she let Stark help her stand, and she nodded to Crais to continue. He looked at her carefully to make sure she was truly ready, actuated the mechanism, and it was done.
Afterwards Aeryn retreated to her and John's quarters and the others left her alone as they knew she wished...
Crais' thoughts turned to the other issues he'd been contemplating...
They'd had to remain in the Dam-ba-da system longer than he liked as Talyn recovered enough to safely navigate starburst, hoping they'd be able to leave before other forces came checking on the destroyed dreadnought. There had even been a close call with a surviving Scarran fighter which could have seriously injured the still-healing Talyn but for its own damaged state. Fortunately, Talyn detected the smaller ship first using passive sensors and Crais was able to engage and destroy it. "Dead men tell no tales" was one of the human's few sayings that he fully understood and agreed with. Talyn had starburst twice since then, placing greater distance between them any potential pursuers.
They had detected no other vessels of any sort in the last 37 arns but Crais decided he would be extra cautious a while longer before dedicating himself to some of the less urgent repairs that the DRDs were unable to complete by themselves. In the meantime the quiet wait had been good for some reflection.
To his surprise Crais realized he'd almost forgotten what it was like before he had Aeryn and Crichton to share or alternate watches with in times of crisis. Ever since he had first escaped with Talyn he exulted in his total freedom to do as he pleased (one recalcitrant, sometimes impulsive gunship excepted), totally alone for the first time, responsible to and for no one else. Yet now he realized that he missed having a competent crew, even if he was not properly in command. And he had to admit that even Rygel and Stark had their uses: even though he was manipulating them earlier with flattery what he'd said to them was in fact essentially true.
Responsibility now weighed heavily on his shoulders, in many ways even greater now than when he began his first command over thirty cycles ago. Crichton's final charge to him was to take care of the others, and, try as he might to avoid it, he had come to the conclusion that the human meant the crew of Moya as well should they ever encounter them again.
But even greater than that in the larger scheme of things was what to do with the information, however fragmentary, he now had about the ultimate strategic weapon that could swing the balance in the coming conflict with the Scarrans. Even though he'd shrugged off Scorpius's blandishments about loyalty to the Sebacean race, if not the PeaceKeepers, the point ultimately held truth. What should he do about the duplicate Farscape wormhole craft? It and the ruins of the modified "phase generator" weapon were crammed in beside their one transport pod. Also, Talyn's partially recovered sensors were able to collect a fair amount of data during the deployment of the wormhole weapon. Finally, whatever Aeryn might have overheard during the construction of the weapon might be useful.
He couldn't simply destroy the physical evidence since it represented the possible salvation of the Sebacean race in the coming war with the Scarrans, which would surely come sooner when the Scarrans panicked as they learned what truly happened to their dreadnought at Dam-Ba-Da. He thought that was a slightly more likely scenario than the other he'd considered: that positive proof of the existence of the wormhole weapon plus a new type of gunship would buy a reprieve. Crais would place his bet on the
Scarrans staging a preemptive strike before too many PK units received the operational weapon -- they had everything to lose if they didn't.
And to think doomsday was staring them in the face because of a technology that might be impossible to re-create.
He'd thought about striking some sort of deal with the PeaceKeeper establishment that would gain them their freedom, at least his and Aeryn's, plus Talyn of course, in exchange for all his wormhole data and the hardware, but they would certainly be betrayed -- they'd be dealing with PeaceKeepers after all he smirked to himself. And if Scorpius were still alive as Crichton seemed convinced, they would all be handed over to that half-breed bastard's tender ministrations in the Aurora Chair, an experience he had no wish to repeat.
After much thought there was only one logical course of action, find Moya and hand over what they knew to Crichton's "twin", hopefully still alive. Crais had already given Talyn new orders to begin the search based on the last navigational data he and Moya had exchanged, as well as to try to use the poorly understood Leviathan long-range distress call with which Moya had successfully summoned Talyn before. He would wait a few days before telling the others, as he was sure the prospect of seeing the other John Crichton would be very upsetting to Aeryn...
This line of thought was interrupted by Talyn telling him that DRDs reported Aeryn to be awake and apparently heading to Command. He went ahead and used the neural interface to begin another deep scan of surrounding space as he waited for her arrival.
Two-thirds of the deep scan complete, Crais shrugged off his bemusement as the doors to Command opened and Aeryn entered. He re-focused his tired eyes inside the ship and noted that although she was neatly attired and groomed she still looked terrible with dark circles under her eyes.
He made no comment on this and instead greeted her,
"It is good to see you. Is there anything at all I can do for you?"
"Yes" she replied firmly. "You need to go to your quarters and get some rest; I will take the watch now."
"Aeryn, that is unnecessary. I am doing fine without you for now. Rygel and Stark have been most helpful," he dissembled.
She was buying none of it. "That is a poor lie and you know it. It's time I resumed my normal duties." When he started to dissent again she added softly "And I need something to get out and *do*."
Crais consented. "You have the watch, Officer Sun." He proceeded to fill her in on the status of repairs to Talyn's systems as well as their current position in space and direction of travel. If she sought some distraction from her grief then he would provide it.
Half an arn later, after she had finally begun to participate in the briefing by asking questions, he felt he'd done almost all that he could for now.
When it was clear he was finished Aeryn asked, "Talyn, could you show me the brightest star please? Normal magnification."
Crais briefly wondered at her intake of breath when the slewing display halted on a spectacular binary star, then dismissed the thought as he decided that now was as good a time as any to tell Aeryn the rest of what he had been thinking about. Until just now they had not exchanged three whole sentences since Crichton died, and he needed to try to offer what comfort he could.
"Aeryn..." She remained with her back to him, looking at the viewscreen. When she stayed that way Crais wondered if he should continue, then decided to forge ahead.
"Aeryn, when you and Crichton first came aboard after our encounter with the retrieval squad I still found him to be something of a curiosity, a primitive who had previously proven himself to be a canny adversary.
I saw him as a useful asset, to be taken advantage of like any other, and as a Sebacean I still instinctively doubted the wisdom of your ... ah ... alliance with him.
Later, I came to more fully respect his abilities and your confidence in him, as an ally whose cooperation I desired, but I certainly never sought nor expected the trust he placed in me at the end.
And I am surprised at how much I value it."
"You can be more" Aeryn softly said.
"Yes?" Crais knew he was missing something.
She turned to him and said as if in explanation, only a little louder, "He has... had" she corrected herself, "that effect on people". She turned back to the forward view with the ghost of a smile on her face.
Still puzzled Crais went on to finish...
"I noticed the question in your eyes when I placed my highest service decoration on Crichton's body, and I wanted to explain myself.
You may be unaware of it, having only been exposed to the 'official' propaganda-laden version of our history in a shipboard creche, but in my family we grew up on old tales of heroism from a time long before we became mercenaries and then conquerors in our own right.
Our people have always been soldiers, but long ago some of us did not fight just to further our own interests, did not fight merely for our own and our families' survival. Rather some of us served as protectors of the weak, the defenseless, with no thought of reward, helping not only our fellow Sebaceans but other races as well.
I do not know if Commander Crichton would have appreciated the irony or not, but he fought and died as a true PeaceKeeper, in the ancient way.
I will continue to study his example."
He waited for a microt to see if she would turn around and respond. When she did not he opened the doors with a flicker of thought to the transponder and stepped toward them to leave.
"Captain?"
Crais straightened from old habit as he turned back in surprise. "Yes?"
Aeryn partly faced him now and met his eyes.
"Thank you. For me ... and the others..." her voice trailed off as she glanced back at the stars "... and for John."
Crais nodded in acknowledgment, and with more genuine sincerity than he had thought himself capable replied,
"You are most welcome, Officer Sun".
He turned about and strode from Command, feeling taller than he had in a long time.
Epilogue to Infinite Possibilities: Crais Considers
AUTHOR
'newscaper' on the SciFi Channel Farscape Bulletin Board
Written in August 2001, originally posted on the SFC BB.
RATING
PG
DISCLAIMER
The usual. All characters property of Henson Company, et. al. No intent to profit from this depiction.
CATEGORY
Episode Filler/Addition for Infinite Possibilities: Icarus Abides
COMMENTS
This follows within a week after Talyn John's death in S3's IP:IA. I wrote this wanting to explore whether Crais had really changed or not after accepting John's deathbed charge. I'd seen no one, at that time, cover the funeral so I thought I'd also try to touch on that.
I wrote this BEFORE The Choice so you'll have to excuse my Aeryn who is not quite that big a basket case. We'll just have to pretend she backslid in dealing with her grief .
------------------
*Crais Considers*
Bialar Crais, former PeaceKeeper Captain, renegade master of the Leviathan gunship Talyn, and newly appointed guardian of his remaining passengers harshly muttered "Frell" as he tried to resist the urge to rub his itching, red-rimmed eyes for the hundredth time.
"No, Talyn, nothing is wrong, just some minor discomfort," he said in response to the ship's warbled query. He returned to visually scanning the starfield in the forward screen as well as the manual overrides and displays, a habit he fully kept even after he became accustomed to the direct interface through the transponder at the base of his neck.
His vision had already essentially recovered from the neural backlash when Talyn's sensors were recently fried by the solar flares, but some irritation persisted. This was aggravated by the fact he had continuously stood watch in Command for 62 of the last 70 arns, except for a few brief forays for repairs that absolutely could not wait.
The ship bleeped again.
"Yes, I know I need rest, but now is not the time. Aeryn is indisposed, and you know the others are of limited use in our current situation."
Mentioning the non-Sebaceans reminded him to scan the interior of the ship again to check on the others. He refused to "look" into what had passed as Aeryn and Crichton's quarters, but nearby DRD's and other sensors confirmed Aeryn's life signs were within acceptable norms. It appeared she might be stirring from what had been her first fitful sleep since Crichton's deep-space burial.
Scanning further through Talyn he found that Rygel was still in the galley indulging his grief in the way of his species. Apparently the pace of his gorging had slowed in the last half arn, but Crais decided it finally time to stop him to avoid a repeat of the Hynerian's recent drexim-induced incapacitation. The Sebacean grimaced as he recalled the humiliation of his previous encounter with the binging, defiant little slug. He attempted to shrug off his irritation before opening comms and trying a different tactic.
"Rygel, I must ask you to stop now. There is no telling when we will next be able to replenish ship's stores."
The dominar ignored him so Crais gritted his teeth and lowered himself...
"Besides, you must be healthy in case Talyn and I need to take advantage of your skills in deception and negotiation. It appears we will soon enter a region with greater ship traffic."
Fortunately that seemed to finally penetrate the little leathery, whiskered skull. Rygel finished the last half-eaten marjole and backed the throne sled away from the table, muttering "Enough" to himself as he slipped one last small packet of foodcubes into his robes. Crais was reminded how the Hynerian had placed a ludicrously small yet finely crafted wooden box of food cubes into the crate that had served as Crichton's makeshift coffin. At the time it seemed odd, miserly, alongside the small bag of jewels Rygel included with it "for the Journey", but Crais thought he understood the gesture better now.
He continued to scan through the ship and found that Stark was still in the makeshift quarters he shared with Rygel. It wasn't obvious whether he was sleeping or silently meditating, but Crais didn't care which as long as it meant the Bannik had stopped his incessant chanting. He'd had to order him away from the corridor near Aeryn, and, as with Rygel, had to resort to more polite means.
Crais had finally succeeded after telling the Bannik, "Stark, Aeryn is sleeping now and your chanting may only disturb her. You need to be rested in case she requires your assistance when she does awake. And I may need your aid with Talyn later as well. I will comm you if anything changes."
This business of having to persuade at times rather than merely ordering subordinates about still galled, but he'd been learning the hard way recently.
Thoughts of Stark returned him to Crichton's funeral...
Aeryn had decided on a burial in deep interstellar space where the Scarrans could not possibly find John's body and violate it with dissection (or learn any more about his species for that matter), so he was kept in an unused refrigeration unit until Talyn was reasonably clear of pursuit.
When the time came Crais noted how surprisingly well Aeryn was maintaining her composure, until he realized on closer inspection that she looked *fragile*, one word that he never thought would describe Aeryn Sun in a million cycles. Everything went smoothly as those who wished said something privately to Crichton and placed a small token in the container with his body. Then Crais invoked the traditional PeaceKeeper words of final farewell for soldiers and explorers (the only ones he knew) while Stark softly prayed. Those words had long since been empty of meaning to Crais, but for Aeryn's sake that day a part of him hoped they held some truth after all.
But things went "to hezmana in a handbasket" as Crichton used to say as he closed the cover, and Stark helped him wrestle the modified cargo container into the refuse ejection mechanism and closed it. That was when Rygel developed a case of the intons, which in turn caused Aeryn to succumb to her grief and begin to openly weep. Crais caught the wheezing, abashed Dominar's eye and gave him a murderous glare, silently daring him to defile the proceedings with the helium fart which surely would have been his death sentence. But this expression was short-lived, replaced by helpless looks on both their faces as a sobbing Aeryn completely collapsed to the deck.
Fortunately Stark, master of grief as well as death, stepped in, somehow mustering up an expression of effortless serenity as he tried to soothe Aeryn with soft words that were unintelligible to the other two. They seemed to have little effect until Stark started to raise his mask to release his strange healing power when suddenly Aeryn insisted "NO!" and forcibly regained control all by herself. After another moment she let Stark help her stand, and she nodded to Crais to continue. He looked at her carefully to make sure she was truly ready, actuated the mechanism, and it was done.
Afterwards Aeryn retreated to her and John's quarters and the others left her alone as they knew she wished...
Crais' thoughts turned to the other issues he'd been contemplating...
They'd had to remain in the Dam-ba-da system longer than he liked as Talyn recovered enough to safely navigate starburst, hoping they'd be able to leave before other forces came checking on the destroyed dreadnought. There had even been a close call with a surviving Scarran fighter which could have seriously injured the still-healing Talyn but for its own damaged state. Fortunately, Talyn detected the smaller ship first using passive sensors and Crais was able to engage and destroy it. "Dead men tell no tales" was one of the human's few sayings that he fully understood and agreed with. Talyn had starburst twice since then, placing greater distance between them any potential pursuers.
They had detected no other vessels of any sort in the last 37 arns but Crais decided he would be extra cautious a while longer before dedicating himself to some of the less urgent repairs that the DRDs were unable to complete by themselves. In the meantime the quiet wait had been good for some reflection.
To his surprise Crais realized he'd almost forgotten what it was like before he had Aeryn and Crichton to share or alternate watches with in times of crisis. Ever since he had first escaped with Talyn he exulted in his total freedom to do as he pleased (one recalcitrant, sometimes impulsive gunship excepted), totally alone for the first time, responsible to and for no one else. Yet now he realized that he missed having a competent crew, even if he was not properly in command. And he had to admit that even Rygel and Stark had their uses: even though he was manipulating them earlier with flattery what he'd said to them was in fact essentially true.
Responsibility now weighed heavily on his shoulders, in many ways even greater now than when he began his first command over thirty cycles ago. Crichton's final charge to him was to take care of the others, and, try as he might to avoid it, he had come to the conclusion that the human meant the crew of Moya as well should they ever encounter them again.
But even greater than that in the larger scheme of things was what to do with the information, however fragmentary, he now had about the ultimate strategic weapon that could swing the balance in the coming conflict with the Scarrans. Even though he'd shrugged off Scorpius's blandishments about loyalty to the Sebacean race, if not the PeaceKeepers, the point ultimately held truth. What should he do about the duplicate Farscape wormhole craft? It and the ruins of the modified "phase generator" weapon were crammed in beside their one transport pod. Also, Talyn's partially recovered sensors were able to collect a fair amount of data during the deployment of the wormhole weapon. Finally, whatever Aeryn might have overheard during the construction of the weapon might be useful.
He couldn't simply destroy the physical evidence since it represented the possible salvation of the Sebacean race in the coming war with the Scarrans, which would surely come sooner when the Scarrans panicked as they learned what truly happened to their dreadnought at Dam-Ba-Da. He thought that was a slightly more likely scenario than the other he'd considered: that positive proof of the existence of the wormhole weapon plus a new type of gunship would buy a reprieve. Crais would place his bet on the
Scarrans staging a preemptive strike before too many PK units received the operational weapon -- they had everything to lose if they didn't.
And to think doomsday was staring them in the face because of a technology that might be impossible to re-create.
He'd thought about striking some sort of deal with the PeaceKeeper establishment that would gain them their freedom, at least his and Aeryn's, plus Talyn of course, in exchange for all his wormhole data and the hardware, but they would certainly be betrayed -- they'd be dealing with PeaceKeepers after all he smirked to himself. And if Scorpius were still alive as Crichton seemed convinced, they would all be handed over to that half-breed bastard's tender ministrations in the Aurora Chair, an experience he had no wish to repeat.
After much thought there was only one logical course of action, find Moya and hand over what they knew to Crichton's "twin", hopefully still alive. Crais had already given Talyn new orders to begin the search based on the last navigational data he and Moya had exchanged, as well as to try to use the poorly understood Leviathan long-range distress call with which Moya had successfully summoned Talyn before. He would wait a few days before telling the others, as he was sure the prospect of seeing the other John Crichton would be very upsetting to Aeryn...
This line of thought was interrupted by Talyn telling him that DRDs reported Aeryn to be awake and apparently heading to Command. He went ahead and used the neural interface to begin another deep scan of surrounding space as he waited for her arrival.
Two-thirds of the deep scan complete, Crais shrugged off his bemusement as the doors to Command opened and Aeryn entered. He re-focused his tired eyes inside the ship and noted that although she was neatly attired and groomed she still looked terrible with dark circles under her eyes.
He made no comment on this and instead greeted her,
"It is good to see you. Is there anything at all I can do for you?"
"Yes" she replied firmly. "You need to go to your quarters and get some rest; I will take the watch now."
"Aeryn, that is unnecessary. I am doing fine without you for now. Rygel and Stark have been most helpful," he dissembled.
She was buying none of it. "That is a poor lie and you know it. It's time I resumed my normal duties." When he started to dissent again she added softly "And I need something to get out and *do*."
Crais consented. "You have the watch, Officer Sun." He proceeded to fill her in on the status of repairs to Talyn's systems as well as their current position in space and direction of travel. If she sought some distraction from her grief then he would provide it.
Half an arn later, after she had finally begun to participate in the briefing by asking questions, he felt he'd done almost all that he could for now.
When it was clear he was finished Aeryn asked, "Talyn, could you show me the brightest star please? Normal magnification."
Crais briefly wondered at her intake of breath when the slewing display halted on a spectacular binary star, then dismissed the thought as he decided that now was as good a time as any to tell Aeryn the rest of what he had been thinking about. Until just now they had not exchanged three whole sentences since Crichton died, and he needed to try to offer what comfort he could.
"Aeryn..." She remained with her back to him, looking at the viewscreen. When she stayed that way Crais wondered if he should continue, then decided to forge ahead.
"Aeryn, when you and Crichton first came aboard after our encounter with the retrieval squad I still found him to be something of a curiosity, a primitive who had previously proven himself to be a canny adversary.
I saw him as a useful asset, to be taken advantage of like any other, and as a Sebacean I still instinctively doubted the wisdom of your ... ah ... alliance with him.
Later, I came to more fully respect his abilities and your confidence in him, as an ally whose cooperation I desired, but I certainly never sought nor expected the trust he placed in me at the end.
And I am surprised at how much I value it."
"You can be more" Aeryn softly said.
"Yes?" Crais knew he was missing something.
She turned to him and said as if in explanation, only a little louder, "He has... had" she corrected herself, "that effect on people". She turned back to the forward view with the ghost of a smile on her face.
Still puzzled Crais went on to finish...
"I noticed the question in your eyes when I placed my highest service decoration on Crichton's body, and I wanted to explain myself.
You may be unaware of it, having only been exposed to the 'official' propaganda-laden version of our history in a shipboard creche, but in my family we grew up on old tales of heroism from a time long before we became mercenaries and then conquerors in our own right.
Our people have always been soldiers, but long ago some of us did not fight just to further our own interests, did not fight merely for our own and our families' survival. Rather some of us served as protectors of the weak, the defenseless, with no thought of reward, helping not only our fellow Sebaceans but other races as well.
I do not know if Commander Crichton would have appreciated the irony or not, but he fought and died as a true PeaceKeeper, in the ancient way.
I will continue to study his example."
He waited for a microt to see if she would turn around and respond. When she did not he opened the doors with a flicker of thought to the transponder and stepped toward them to leave.
"Captain?"
Crais straightened from old habit as he turned back in surprise. "Yes?"
Aeryn partly faced him now and met his eyes.
"Thank you. For me ... and the others..." her voice trailed off as she glanced back at the stars "... and for John."
Crais nodded in acknowledgment, and with more genuine sincerity than he had thought himself capable replied,
"You are most welcome, Officer Sun".
He turned about and strode from Command, feeling taller than he had in a long time.