Chapter Three

          Tauvo hounded Crichton down the corridor towards the conference room, his dark eyes haunted and smudged from lack of sleep.  "I have to know.  Please John.  I can't stand having Morgan so furious with me.  I can't get anything done because she won't talk to me.  He's got to know something," Tauvo begged, his usually twinkling eyes dull and pleading.  "I mean, she's instituted a password system on the computers, she's completely reorganized both my brother's and my offices, I can't find anything…"

Crichton grabbed him, dragging him into a cold and empty office.  The blinds had been pulled and he slammed the door, leaning his head against it before sinking down into a chair as he held his hand up placatingly with an aggravated sigh.  "Alright!  I can't guarantee he'll know a frelling thing other than what he thinks Scorpius would do, but I'll try."  He shook his head, rubbing his face briskly with his hands.  "The things you people ask me to do," he grumbled.

"When?" Tauvo asked.

But Crichton's face had already blanked, his blue eyes glazed and staring straight ahead.  He paced through his black mind, turning around as he looked for the neural clone.  "Yo!  Harvey!  I need to talk to you!"  He waited, crossing his arms and tapping his foot in annoyance, getting set to pull himself back when a door appeared to his right from out of nowhere and he raised his eyebrows, canting his head in confusion as he swaggered over to it, biting his lower lip.  "Okay.  Let's see what's behind door number one!" he commented to himself, imitating a game show host.  Crichton turned the handle and swung it open.

A woman screamed and the human covered his eyes with his hands, peeking through his fingers in horrid fascination.  There before him, bereft of all clothing except his black mask, gloves and strategically placed red satin pillow, knelt Scorpius on a king size heart shaped bed, the cooling unit blinking in time to the cheesy music that suddenly started playing in the human's mind.   Crichton felt like he had walked into the honeymoon suite of some seedy Las Vegas hotel.

The neural clone had the decency to blush as he looked at the human.  "John, your…timing leaves a bit…to be desired," Scorpius stammered as the woman, a buxom blonde, pulled the black satin sheet up to her chin.

Crichton's hand slipped down his face.  "What…are you…doing?" he finally squeaked in shock.  He couldn't figure out which was worse: Scorpius' state of undress or the music.  He suddenly found himself wishing he had never snuck out of the house as a teenager to watch those tawdry porn movies with some of his friends.

Scorpius blinked at him.  "What does it look like?" he hissed, leaning towards the human, making a shooing motion with his hands, indicating that Crichton needed to leave.  "Can we discuss whatever you want later?"

An exasperated look came over Crichton's face as he approached the bed, shaking his head.  "No!"  He threw his hands in the air.  "This is just great!  My neural clone is getting more action than I am!"

Scorpius sat up a little straighter, a smug look on his face.  "Well, John, maybe you're doing something wrong," he remarked, emphasizing the word 'you're'.

Crichton glared at him, his eyebrows drawn down as his tilted his head towards the scientist.  "Say what?"

Scorpius sighed, propping his hands on his pale, bony, naked hips.  "Well, maybe your…how shall I put this…" He rubbed his black lips with his forefinger then pointed to Crichton, going from the human's chest to below his waist.  "…equipment doesn't satisfy Officer Sun."

Crichton's mouth fell open and he unconsciously glanced down.  "No.  No, we are not going there.  Just the hell would you know anyway?"  He waved his hands, shaking his head in frustration.  "And why are we even discussing this?  I need to ask you something very important!"

Before Scorpius could answer, the woman sat up, staring right at Crichton's privates, licking her lips.  "How big are you?" she squeaked in stereotypical blonde voice.

Scorpius and Crichton turned to look at the woman, the clone ripping the pillow from his lap.  "What?  Is this not big enough for you?"

Crichton fell from the chair as he came back to reality, leaving the clone and his floozy.  "Oh…oh…I did not need to see that," he stammered, using the chair and Tauvo's outstretched hand to rise.

"Didn't need to see what?" Tauvo asked, his voice tinged with concern.  "Are you alright?  Did you find anything out?"  His eyes were full of hope.

Crichton pushed away from the younger Crais brother, his face an odd shade of green.  "I'm gonna be sick," he whined, striding from the room and up the corridor towards the restroom, bouncing from wall to wall as he stumbled forward, his hand over his mouth.

Tauvo stood in the office doorway.  "Crichton?  What happened?" he called.

"Later, man!  Later!" Crichton pushed the door open.  "Tell Crais I'll be there in a few minutes," he tossed over his shoulder as he entered.  He went straight to the sinks, turning on the cold water and splashing generous amounts of it on his face, pushing what he had seen from his mind.  He looked up, studying his reflection in the mirror, the water dripping slowly from his face.  "You have got to rid of him."

Scorpius appeared right next to him, thankfully clothed in a red and black paisley smoking jacket, a cigar clenched between his teeth and a Playboy bunny on each arm.  He laid his hand on Crichton's shoulder, a wide grin on his face.  "Jealous John?"

Crichton simply whined as he banged his head off the sink.

Crais followed his wife into the huge and airy conference room on Zorosa 3, the last two people to arrive to the meeting he had called.  The room's occupants quieted as they walked in, their eyes following the ex-Peacekeeper Captain in fascination and taking their seats as Morgan took her place at the far end of the table.  Crais made his way to the head of the table, nodding in greeting to those who whispered to him, quietly laying down the folder that he had carried in.  He gazed over those assembled, his dark eyes measuring everyone in the room.  His brother sat to his right, his eyes downcast, his face pale beneath the dark stubble that peppered his cheeks.  Crichton sat to his left, the rest of the Captain's 'inner circle', which included his son, Braca, Moya's crew, Shantar, Bian and others, filling the rest of the seats around the table.  The commanders of his small resistance fleet, twenty-five to thirty of the most battle-hardened ex-Peacekeepers, filled the room in silent anticipation.  Crais smiled slightly for he was once again in his element, the element of command.  He had to admit that it felt good.

He cleared his throat, his eyes gazing over the faces around him as he spoke, his voice never rising above a normal level, but filled with authority.  "We have evidence that there is a…traitor among us, someone who has been leaking information regarding the resistance to Scorpius, who…as you are all aware, is now leading the remnants of the Peacekeepers in a…somewhat united front against us."  He paused, letting his words sink in, the stunned silence of the room's occupants almost deafening.  He noticed Crichton and Morgan subtly observing the others as a whisper slowly filtered through the room, his commanders bending their heads towards each in consultation, eyes wide with fear. They had every right to be scared for there was no one in that room that wasn't wanted.  He held up his right hand, the left clenched at the small of his back, quieting the people around him.  "Someone has managed to…copy our uniforms and insignia."  He held up the swatch Terrick had removed from the dead soldiers uniform on Dreneda, making sure everyone in the room could see it as he began to pace around the table. 

"Do you have any idea who it is?" Bian asked, turning in her chair to watch Crais.

The Captain lowered his hand, tossing the swatch back onto the table.  "No."  His eyebrows rose in question as he tilted his head, dark eyes boring into the woman.  "Do you?" he asked.  Bian shook her head.  "There will be an investigation into who this…traitor may be and…that person will be duly punished after a jury of his or her peers decide on the…best course to action."

Aeryn leaned back in her seat.  "How do we know it's someone here?" she asked, delivering her rehearsed lines with convincing ease, her own light eyes taking in the reactions of the people around her.  With the exception of Tauvo, who simply watched as his brother paced the room, everyone there was shocked.

Morgan looked at her, clasping her hands before her on the table.  "Unfortunately, it could be anyone involved with the resistance," she replied, nodding her head towards her husband.  "Including Captain Crais."

"Or you," Crichton remarked, staring at his cousin from his slouched position in the chair.  "I mean, let's face it Morgan," he continued, shrugging nonchalantly.  "You're still half-baked from Scorpius' mind frell and he did kidnap your kid."

Morgan's face grew dark with rage and she stood up, slamming her hands on the table, making the others jump.  "Why you sorry son of a bitch!" she hissed, her voice cold.  "This coming from someone whose head contains a neural clone of the one being in this galaxy who would like to see all of us dead."  Her blue eyes flashed and she leaned forward on the table, pointing at Crichton.  "If anyone's the frelling spy, it's you."

The human commander stood up, getting annoyed with Morgan.  She was playing her part just a bit too convincingly.  "Oh really?"  He snorted in disgust.  "Then would you care to explain to all of us why you felt it necessary to try and end your life a couple of times while we were gone?"

"By the goddess, John," Zhaan whispered, leaning forward to lay her hand over Crichton's, her blue eyes begging him to sit down.  She had no idea how he had found out about Morgan's botched suicide attempts.  The poor human woman had been completely and utterly under Scorpius' influence when they had happened, the memory flashes so severe that it had taken her and Stark days to get her settled back down.

Crichton looked down at the Delvian priestess.  "No, Zhaan.  Let's just get it all out into the open!  It's no secret that Morgan is the shakiest leaf on the family tree.  I mean, hell, she wasn't exactly wrapped too tight on Earth to begin with."  He saw her eyes narrow at that comment, her lips twitching ever so slightly.  Anyone else would have thought those barely perceptible gestures indicated her anger.  Not Crichton.  He had talked to her about the things Braca had conveyed to Crais and himself.  He even told her he knew about the time she tried to blow her brains out before coming after him, knowing that information was shared among a privileged few, and they both agreed it was the perfect reason to set them fighting for the spies benefit.  "What was it, Morgan?" he pushed.  "Guilt?"  He moved towards her, closing the distance between them, poking her in the chest.  "Was it guilt because you knew Scorpius would be waiting for us at every turn?"

Morgan lashed out, slapping her cousin across the face, pushing him away from her.  "You've sat in the chair, too, you arrogant pig!"  She propped her hands on her hips.  "For all we know, that neural clone in your head is transmitting to him right now."  She moved towards Crichton, grabbing his shirt and yanking him forward, canting her head, waving her hand over his eyes.  "Hello?  Scorpius?  You in there?  Where's my frelling kid?"  Without warning, Morgan slammed her forehead against Crichton's, sending him sprawling backwards into the commanders seated around the perimeter of the room, chairs screaming backwards with a scream of metal as everyone tried to get out of Crichton's way.

"Enough!" Crais' voice boomed through the room with force.  He pointed to the table, banging it with the tip of his finger.  "No one is free of suspicion.  Not you!"  He pointed at the two humans.  "Not the crew of Moya, myself, my family, or anyone else in this resistance, men, women, children alike!" he yelled, his face dark with anger.  Crais stroked his goatee, giving Aeryn, D'Argo and Braca a few moments to secretly peruse the others, trying to find any clue as to who the traitor could be while he tried to reign in his fury.  Crichton slowly made his way back to his seat, an angry red welt on his forehead, Morgan still standing at the other end of the table, her chest heaving with quick breaths.

When Crais finally spoke, his voice was lethally quiet, his brown eyes hard and commanding.  "From this moment on, all communication to and from Zorosa 3 will be carefully monitored.  All ships entering and leaving the system will be checked until we find our leak.  Is…that…clear?" he asked, emphasizing every word.  A chorus of 'yes sir' sang through the room.  Crais nodded curtly.  "I will assign an investigative team as soon as I am confident that those I pick for the team…are not our spy.  I expect…you to carry on your…duties as normal."  He gave the room one last going over.  "Dismissed," he snapped, standing with one hand on his hip, the other on the table, a glacial expression on his face as he watched his commanders leave, Morgan being the first one out of the room, her face hard and unyielding.

Zhaan approached him, her blue face still filled with concern.  She waited until the last of the resistance members filtered from the room, silently watching with her hands folded in her robes as Crais gathered the fake insignia from the table, laying it within the folder he had brought with him.  "Crais…" she started, pausing as he held up his hand, purposefully striding to the door and closing it, a bug sweeper in his hand.

Crais looked up at Zhaan and smiled softly.  "I do not believe it is Morgan, if that is what you were going to say," he commented, returning to stand next to her at the head of the table.

Her pale blue eyebrows rose and she regarded him suspiciously.  "What is going on?"

Crais sat down with a sigh.  "Exactly what I said.  I believe our…spy was in this room.  Ka D'Argo, Sr. Officer Sun and Lieutenant Braca are already investigating everyone, starting with the most suspicious members of our movement."

"That could be almost everyone," Zhaan pointed out.  Crais nodded.  "So, then, that display between John and Morgan was planned?"

"Yes. And well executed."  Crais chuckled.  "Although I do not believe Crichton was prepared for my wife's physical attack." His eyes met hers.  "I would appreciate it if you and Stark would continue watching over my son and my parents."  He hesitantly laid his hand over hers, knowing that he was asking a lot.  "There is no one else I trust."

Zhaan clasped Crais' hand between hers.  "We will.  And Morgan?"

Crais smiled.  "I have a plan to get Morgan, Tauvo and Terrick out of harms way and keep them safe.  Crichton will be aiding me in analyzing the information we gathered on Scorpius and determining where he will…appear next."

Zhaan's blue eyes locked with Crais'.  "I hope you know what you're doing," she whispered.

The smile faded from his face.  "So do I.  Everything we have built here depends on it."

Crichton and Morgan barged into the room, both of them smiling, although the look on Morgan's face was somewhat strained.  "I had an idea, but I'm not sure how well it will work," Crichton announced.  "Or if we can even pull it off."

Crais glanced back and forth between the two humans, his eyebrows raised.  "I take it by the look on Morgan's face that she does not like it," he calmly observed.  He glanced at Zhaan who shrugged.

Morgan had been pacing the conference room, rubbing her forehead from where she had head butted her cousin earlier.  She had apologized to Crichton as soon as they reached Father's barn, away from prying eyes, both of them trying very hard not to start laughing and reveal their presence to anyone lurking around.  "No, I think it's idiotic."

If Crais' eyebrows could've rose any higher, they would've.  It was not like Morgan to think one of cousin's hair-brained schemes was dumb.  She was usually the first one to back him up and somehow, between the two of them, Crichton's crazy plans always worked.  "What is this…idea?" he finally asked out of curiosity, waving with his hand, a smile of amusement on his face.

Crichton glanced at his cousin smugly.  "See, you were wrong.  He does want to hear it."  He stuck his tongue out at her childishly before turning blue eyes to Crais.  "Scarrens can pick up whether or not a person is lying, right?  You know, they can tell by an individual's body temperature and stuff."

Crais nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tilted his head.  "Yes."

Crichton smiled.  "Okay.  We've met a few Scarrens that don't think all Sebaceans are the scum of the universe.  What if we find one that is sympathetic to the resistance and enlist his or her help to find the spy?  Have them sit in on the interrogations or follow D'Argo and the others around as they talk to people, " he finished, holding his hands out.

Zhaan stared at Crichton.  "That's an interesting idea John," she said, her face lighting up.

The Captain tapped the knuckle of his right forefinger against his pursed lips, the bonding tattoo clearing visible around his wrist as he considered Crichton's idea.  Crais had to admit it had merit.  "Do we know if any of the ships within the fleet have a Scarren dissident aboard?"  He ignored Morgan's glance of disdain.

Crichton shrugged, crossing his arms.  "It shouldn't be too hard to find out considering somebody we know went through and cross referenced all the resistance members in the databanks while we were gone."

Three sets of eyes turned to Morgan.  She looked at each of them, finally throwing her hands up in the air.  "Oh, well, then let's just hire Magnum Scarren, P.I. to find the spy!" She stormed over to the computer console, signing on and beginning the records search.  The room remained quiet and Morgan turned around slowly at her cousin's soft chuckle.  "What?" she snapped in irritation.

Crichton looked at her, ignoring the confused looks on Zhaan and Crais' faces.  "Magnum Scarren, P.I.?" he sniggered.  He walked towards her.  "He wouldn't happen to drive a red Ferrari would he?" Crichton asked, pretending he was driving a car before crossing one arm over his chest, the other propped on it, tapping his fingers against his lips, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

Morgan gazed at her cousin, the smile twitching at her lips.  "Oh, shut up," she chuckled, playfully punching his arm as she turned back to the computer monitor.

          Crais was beginning to wonder what had gotten into his wife.  She had returned to Talyn, laughing like a teenager without a care in the world and Crichton was only encouraging her, the two of them giving him a headache as they replayed the confrontation scene in the conference room over and over, patting each other on the back in praise, chuckling with mirth.  Crichton couldn't help laughing at Morgan's 'Magnum Scarren' comment, sending her into another round of hysterical laughter as they docked and left the transport pod.  Crais pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed, wishing they would hurry up and say goodbye so he could kick Crichton off the gunship.

          Talyn chirped at him and he started towards the bridge, Morgan's laughter echoing off the bulkheads behind him.  He shook his head, a smile starting on his own lips.  He had to agree with Talyn's assessment of the situation.  Morgan had definitely improved. 

          "Crais!"

          The Captain turned at his wife's voice, stopping as she strode towards him, wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing him soundly on the lips, startling him with her sudden forwardness after so many months of being away from her and the shyness she had exhibited around him.  He wrapped one arm around her waist, drawing her closer and deepening the kiss, her arms sliding up his back.  When they finally came up for air, they were both shaking.

          "Okay," she whispered, her face flushed, her lips swollen.  She licked them, gazing up at him with sparkling blue eyes.  "So…why don't you meet me in our quarters in…half an arn for dinner."

          Crais raised one eyebrow, his lips twitching.  "Is…that what you want?" he asked softly, stroking her cheek with his forefinger.  As much as he wanted to take her right then and there, Crais kept the promise he made to himself to follow her lead.

          Morgan simply nodded, pulling away from him and heading up the corridor, a bounce in her step that had been missing, her ponytail swinging back and forth cheerily with her steps.

          "Yes, Talyn, I concur."  Crais shook his head, smiling to himself as he continued on to the bridge.  "She is most assuredly returning to her old self."  He had no idea how much she had improved and when he stepped into their quarters, Crais froze, his breath caught in his throat.  Morgan stood there waiting for him in a diaphanous azure blue gown that fastened at the shoulders in simple bows and swirled around her like a cloud, her hair falling over her shoulders, the swell of her breasts tantalizing him from the edge of the dress.   He could see the curves of her naked body through the thin material, the muscles of her toned figure rippling as she walked towards him.

"Well?" she asked, holding her arms out and turning around.  "Zhaan helped me make it."

          Crais swallowed, trying very hard to ignore the tightness in his groin as she approached.  "You look…beautiful," he finally managed to say as she reached out to him, taking the edges of the grey and black uniform jacket in her hands and pulling him towards her.  She slowly undid the buttons of his shirt, pushing it and the jacket from his shoulders, the clothing falling to the floor as she ran her hands down his chest, her eyes growing dark in longingly.  "I…thought…we were going…to…" he stopped, her hands hot against his skin.  Crais moaned quietly in the back of his throat, his eyes closed as she flicked her tongue over one of his nipples.  "Morgan."

          Morgan smiled at the way he murmured her name.  She had missed him, more than she realized and nothing was going to stop her from showing her husband how much.  Not Talyn, not Scorpius, not the resistance, not even Crais himself.  She reached back and removed the transponder from the cradle at the back of his neck as her lips met his in a demanding kiss.  "Dinner can wait," she whispered, taking his hands in hers and leading him back to the bed, laying the transponder next to her own on the bedside stand

          Crais realized that there were candles lit all over their quarters, the spicy scent of incense filling the air, some soft Earth music by a musician Morgan called Sting playing quietly in the background.  He let her push him back on the bed, positioning herself between his legs as he sat, her hands carefully removing the binding from his hair, her fingers running through his dark locks.  Crais reached out, laying his hands on her hips, leaning his cheek against her stomach and breathing in her scent, soft and intoxicating as she stroked his head, his cheek, his shoulders, the palms of her hands soft as they made their way up his arms and back.

          "I love you, Bialar," she whispered, kissing the top of his head.  "He couldn't take that away from me."

          Crais looked up at Morgan, their eyes meeting.  "No one will ever take that away from us," he answered, his face serious.

          Morgan leaned down and kissed him again, pushing him back on the bed.  "No one," she agreed, trailing her lips down his neck and chest, the fabric of her gown soft against his skin, only serving to heighten his growing passion as it slid with her hard body down his.

          Crais wanted to touch her, wanted to strip the dress off of her and hold her, his hands twitching at his sides as her lips continued their way down to his waist.  When Morgan undid the button of his trousers, he laid his hands on her arms, gently pushing her back and sitting up, sliding the leathers and everything else off, knowing that if she had done it for him, he would never have been able to control himself.  The hurt look on her face just about undid him and reached his hands up, gently pulling the soft ties at her shoulders, letting the blue dress fall, sliding down her body as he rested his cheek against her bosom, his hands lovingly stroking her lower back. 

          Morgan pushed against him, smiling at his attentions as she began to wiggle in his grasp.  "No, no, no.  This is not how…it is supposed to go," she breathlessly protested, her hands sliding up to clench in his hair as he plastered soft kisses along her stomach.

          Crais peered up with her, never letting up his agonizing torture.  "And…tell me…how is it supposed to go?" he asked softly, his hands moving from the small of her back to her behind, gently kneading the soft flesh.

          "I'm supposed to be seducing you."  Morgan inhaled sharply as Crais pulled her against him, hot flesh against hot flesh, his lips trailing down her stomach, his goatee tickling her erotically.

          Crais chuckled, gently turning and laying Morgan on the bed, continuing his way down, his tongue darting out to lick the ticklish spot he knew was just above Morgan's hip, causing her to squirm beneath him.  "Morgan, you seduced me the day Talyn and I brought you on board."  He looked up at her, his dark eyes smoldering, all thoughts of the resistance and Scorpius gone from his mind, his only goal at the moment reuniting with his wife.

          She leaned up on her elbows, watching him as he trailed kisses across her belly, one hand caressing her leg, working it's way back up.  "There's…that control issue…again," she remarked, throwing her head back, closing her eyes as he continued his maddening torment, falling back on the bed and releasing a satisfied moan as she stopped resisting him.

          Crais smiled, knowing exactly what she referring to.  He had to admit she was in rare form.  "What control issue?" he asked huskily as she writhed beneath him, returning his lips to hers, effectively stopping any other comments she might want to make.  With one quick movement, Crais rolled onto his back, taking Morgan with him.  "Is this…better?" he whispered.

          Morgan grabbed his hands, holding them above his head as they made love, tossing her hair over one shoulder as she leaned down to kiss him, her lips trailing to his ears, her tongue lapping at the sensitive spot at the hollow of his neck. 

          Crais swallowed hard, his hands grasping her hips and rolled her again, pinning Morgan beneath him.  He gazed down at brushing her sweat soaked hair from her forehead.  "You're right…" he gasped, trying to reign in his passion.  "…I do…have a control…issue," he said, his mouth hungrily locking with hers.

          Morgan stroked Crais' back as he lay on her, his breath ragged as he tried to slow his heart, holding onto her, the fingers of his right hand playing with her hair, his left hand clasped tightly with hers.  She closed her eyes, a grin spreading on her face, the first genuine smile she had had in months.  "Well," she finally whispered, not able to help the devilishness that she knew annoyed her husband, "at least you admit it."

          Crais chuckled softly, leaning up and shifting positions so that he could gaze up at Morgan from where he lay, his chin propped on one hand, the other tracing lazy circles on her stomach.  The smile drifted from his face, his eyes darkening.  "I…need to ask you something," he whispered, his eyes locking with hers.

          Morgan pulled a pillow from the head of the bed, tucking it under her head as she looked at him.  "What?"  She tucked a stray piece of hair back behind his ear, waiting.  She could tell by the look on his face that something was bothering him.

          Crais sighed.  "I don't want you on Zorosa 3 while…we look for the traitor.  Even with the Scarren dissident's help, it is going to be dangerous."  He shifted his weight, sliding his body up hers and capturing her earlobe between his lips, teasing her, letting his lips drift down her neck.  "And I need you…" Crais paused, enjoying the feeling of her hands stroking the top of his head, not wanting to ask this of her.  It was the only solution he found acceptable although he knew the two of them were still at odds.  Crais secretly hoped it would solve the problems between Morgan and Tauvo and allow a dialogue to open between them once again.  "…to work with Tauvo and the female Leviathan."

          Morgan froze, her body stiffening, her hands still on his head.  "You want me to what?" she hissed in disbelief.  She was beginning to think she was going to have to give Crais lessens in timing.

          He turned his head and looked up at her.  He realized she still had her hand entwined in his hair, fisted in anger.  "You have worked with this gunship, Morgan.  She has a pilot thanks to the efforts put forth by Moya, Pilot and yourself.  And she is comfortable with you."

          Morgan sat up, releasing her husband and roughly pushing him aside.  "Her name is Gaia.  Talyn named her."  She reached out, grabbing her robe from the end of the bed and standing up, tying it around her waist with annoyed motions.  She looked at him, her face flushed, whether from their lovemaking or anger, Crais couldn't tell.  "Why can't you do it?" she asked, pointing at him, her mouth pursed in anger.  She couldn't believe he was asking her to do this.

          Crais stood up, approaching Morgan with a forlorn sigh.  "I do not have the time.  And you being on Talyn or Gaia assures me of your safety."

          Morgan snorted in disgust, pushing her hair from her face.  "Assures you of my safety," she repeated ironically.  She walked over to the alcove where their dinner still sat spread out on the small table.  She took a bite of cheese, contemplating her husband as she chewed.  "So, who's going to ensure Tauvo's safety?" she snapped angrily.

          Crais sighed as he grabbed his trousers from the steelskin deck, pulling them on as he walked over to her.  He leaned one hand on the bulkhead.  "Terrick."

          Morgan's eyebrows went up.  "Terrick?"  She laughed as she popped a piece of fruit in her mouth.  "Are you fahrbot?  Who are you trying to get rid of? Me or both of them?" she finally asked, her eyes wide in amazement.  She reached for another piece of food, Crais grabbing her wrist.  Morgan looked up at him in surprise, his eyes hard, his face set in determined lines, his chin lifted in that arrogant and commanding way she knew only too well.  Morgan realized that he wasn't about to be swayed from this decision.

          "Terrick is going to make sure…that you and Tauvo don't kill each other.  Tauvo is doing me absolutely no good here as long as you are still angry with him."  He paused, licking his lips.  "And you have worked with Gaia and her pilot.  You know how to modify the transponders so he can…communicate and…" he paused, looking for the right words, "…guide her until her pilot is totally bonded."  Crais loosened his grip on her wrist, entwining her fingers with his.  "I am not about to let Scorpius tear this resistance apart by having my family at odds with one another.  As much as you hate to admit it, you are a vital part of this resistance.  And so is my brother.  I want the two of you safe."

          Morgan's eyes locked with his.  "What about you?" she simply posed.

          "I will be fine.  I have already arranged for my parents and Allan to be guarded."  Crais waited.

          Morgan sighed.  "Alright.  I'll teach Tauvo.  That's it. No more."  She paused, her lips pursed.  "But if something happens, don't hold me responsible."

          Crais knew she was referring to punching Tauvo's lights out, and he knew she wasn't joking.  Frankly, he was surprised the two of them hadn't come to blows yet, the possibility of Suleah still being alive keeping Morgan from beating the dren out of his brother.  "Thank you."

          Morgan nodded.  "You know, the last time you asked me to do something for you, I got attacked and our daughter got kidnapped."  She shook her head.

          Crais smiled softly, pulling her into his embrace.  "We are prepared this time."  He glanced down at her.  "And…you do it because…you love me?" he teased.

          Morgan laid her head on his chest.  "Sometimes that's debatable, Bialar," she whispered, looking up at him with a smile on her face, gladly tilting her face and accepting his kiss.

Scorpius lifted another morsel of food to his mouth as he inserted the data disk into the slot on his desk.  It had been a few weeks since his contact had last bothered to report in.  The only thing the scientist could do was hope that this was some news he was expecting.  He read the report, his eyes growing wide as he began to laugh, an eerie sound in the huge office. 

Duerell swept into the room in enough time to hear the scientist's laughter, her own face splitting with a smile at her commanding officer's apparent pleasure.  "I take it you have received good news, sir," she commented, sidling up to his desk and leaning one hip against it.

Scorpius stood up, his dinner forgotten as he turned to look out over the lab, motioning for her to join him.  "Wonderful news, Captain Duerell.  Wonderful news."  He waited until the Morlovian stepped up next to him, his hands clasped behind his back, a huge smile across his strange face.  "According to my source on Zorosa 3, Captain Langtree-Crais and her cousin Crichton are fighting, accusing each other of being a spy."  He held up one gloved hand, silencing the woman before she could speak.  "And…" he looked at her, "…it seems Morgan attempted to kill her brother-in-law when he told her he killed Suleah."

Duerell's face lit up and she moved closer to the half-Scarren scientist, laying her hand on his arm in familiarity.  "That is good news," she whispered, her sharp teeth visible in the light.  "Before long, you will have the formula, Crais and his resistance will be dead and…"

"…the universe will be mine to claim as the leader of the Peacekeepers," he finished, softly.  His eyes narrowed calculatingly as he watched a wormhole appear and disappear in the confined lab.  The door to his office opened and he turned, his smile growing wider as a female Peacekeeper came in, a small black haired tot in her hands.  The child wiggled in the woman's arms, frantically trying to get loose and the Peacekeeper set her down.  Scorpius squatted, his arms wide open as the tot ran to him.  He swung her up into his arms, tossing her in the air and catching her as she squealed in delight.  "And how is my little vixen today?" he whispered, carrying her back to the window, bouncing her on one hip as he smiled down at her.  The little girl returned his smile, tweaking his nose. 

Duerell watched in amazement as Scorpius whispered to the child, taking in her blue eyes, the shiny black hair that was pulled back in a tight queue.  "Who is this beguiling child?" she whispered, reaching out for the girl.

Scorpius looked down at the little girl.  "The key to our victory," he whispered, kissing the child's forehead as she snuggled against him, her head beneath his chin as she gazed down at Duerell with unusual blue eyes, two fingers in her mouth, her other hand gripping Scorpius' uniform tightly.  "Suleah Crais."