Chapter 3:

The mood in command that morning was grim. When Moya's sleep cycle ended Nybar had taken first watch, as was his custom. He had tried to hail the Morning Glory, but to no avail. After a few hundred microts, he had asked Pilot for assistance. After another couple of hundred microts, they alerted Aeryn to the silence from the Royal Yacht, interrupting her first meal. She had rushed to command, closely followed by John, their breakfasts abandoned and forgotten.

Now, three tense, heart-rending arns later, the Glory was finally within sensor range of Moya. The readings they were getting from the sensors were doing nothing to ease either John or Aeryn's concerns.

"The Hynerian vessel is still not responding to our hails, Captain. Neither is it showing any sign of movement," Pilot said matter-of-factly, trying, but failing, to keep the tone of his voice steady and business-like. The children were very special to him and Moya, being the offspring of two of their closest friends, members of their first crew after they had gained their freedom. The thought that anything might have happened to them was horrifying to them both.

"Their vessel does not appear to be in any immediate danger of collision with other bodies, and, so far, as we can detect, there is no obvious external damage." Pilot continued to move his claws across his console. "However, neither are there any external signs of life: The ship is showing no power outputs of any kind."

Aeryn stood, grim-faced, hands clamped to the central console. John stood just behind her, physically and emotionally steadying her by his presence. Nybar, Sikozu and numerous other crew worked at other consoles scattered around command, none yet willing to intrude more than brief, concerned glances towards the Captain and her husband.

"Are you detecting any other vessels in the system, Pilot?" Aeryn asked, her voice strained.

"There do not appear to be," Pilot replied.

"No, Captain, there is no other ship registering on my sensors," Nybar added.

"What's our ETA?" John asked. Pilot stifled a sigh. After over two decades, this was one Crichton-ism at least that Pilot knew very well, but it still didn't sound right to him.

"Approximately three quarters of an arn, Commander."

Aeryn set her face in a PK mask and turned to Nybar.

"Nybar, ready a transport pod and two Prowlers as escorts: I'll want four soldiers and J'alark to accompany me on the pod." Nybar nodded and left the bridge, talking into his comms as he went, already rounding up the people and materials she needed.

John gently gripped Aeryn's shoulders and slowly, giving her time to unclamp her hands from the console, turned her to face him.

"You're the Captain, honey: You need to stay in command, in case you're needed here. I'll go. Besides, there's… you know?" Aeryn knew he was referring to the stasis pregnancy, and she knew he knew what her thoughts on his being protective of her because of it would be. But she elected to argue a different point with him.

"Frell it John, those are my offspring on that ship: I will not stand here on Moya waiting for someone else to tell me what has happened to them," she hissed, her face set with a determination which would have given a Scarran cause to retreat. "Not even you!"

John swallowed hard. Aeryn had been a good captain of Moya. Her military upbringing alone meant that she understood well the need for the captain to take the strategic rather than the tactical lead in difficult situations. Then her time as Commandant of the Peacekeeper fleet in the war against the Kkore had taken her skills to a whole new level. She had never indulged herself by doing the "Star Trek" thing, putting herself into risky situations which could be dealt with just as well, perhaps better, by a subordinate and which might compromise her ability to lead the whole crew out of difficulty.

"Are you sure that's wise?" he questioned her gently. Their exchange had not gone unnoticed by the rest of the bridge crew. However, with the exception of Sikozu, who had stopped what she was doing and was looking towards her friends in concern, the others were all studiously ignoring the exchange and ostentatiously continuing with their duties.

"No, it's not, but…" John could see how torn she was, knew well what she was struggling with, as he felt the same.

"Then if it's not wise, I'm coming with you. If things are gonna go South, we ought to be together," he replied, gently touching his forehead to hers. He had genuinely surprised her: She had thought he was going to launch into a longer argument as to why she shouldn't go, but instead…. This. She wasn't quite sure how to respond, but understood: If their situations had been reversed, had he been the captain, she felt sure the outcome would have been similar. After a microt, Aeryn drew her thoughts together and replied.

"Fine, John," she said, before pulling back slightly and activating her comms. "Nybar, when you've prepped the crews, please return to Command to take over here: John and I will take the transport pod across, Captain out." Aeryn understood well that Nybar knew better than to question her orders on something like this, for which she was quite grateful. She didn't need an argument with her second officer in lieu of one with her husband.

Aeryn turned fully now to look out through the view port. There was still no visual contact with the Morning Glory, and likely wouldn't be for another half arn. Coming to another decision, she turned to Sikozu.

"Sikozu, you have Command until Nybar returns, John and I need to get ready," and with that, without looking back, she strode from command towards their quarters. John stood for a moment, turned and shrugged at Sikozu, giving her a "she's the boss" resigned expression, before hurrying after his wife, off command and towards their quarters.

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Aeryn piloted the transport pod out of Moya's hanger in a graceful arc, which belied its utilitarian bulk. They were following the two Prowlers, which would be escorting them across the twenty motras towards the Morning Glory. Between the two Prowler pilots, herself, and the three commandos behind her in the pod, nearly half of the ex-Peacekeeper soldiers aboard Moya were committed to this mission. Aeryn knew that if the Glory had been attacked, then to split their limited defensive capabilities like this was unwise. However, in the old days, they had defended Moya with no more than her, D'Argo and their small crew of enthusiastic amateurs, so their current defences aboard Moya could be seen as having strength in depth, relative to back then. Besides, she had known Nybar for around fifteen cycles now. In that time Aeryn had grown to respect the ex-PK immensely: No pirates were likely to catch him napping on command. No, Aeryn was confident that Nybar would be taking every precaution while they were gone, and would certainly comm them at the first sign of visitors or any other unexpected development. On the other hand, as John might say, Aeryn was well aware that four Peacekeepers, one human and an Interon medtech was quite a small force with which to board a ship, which was harbouring unknown hazards. When she was a Peacekeeper soldier herself, she had been used to far less favourable circumstances. But now she was more, not the least of which was a mother, she was less willing to put her life or those of her shipmates on the line against unknown odds.

Before she had time to dwell on matters further, the pod was drawing alongside the Glory and she had to give over all of her concentration to the matter at hand. It was a fine looking ship: A little small by Moya's standards, although slightly larger than a Vigilante. Aeryn thought that it looked as though it was designed for good looks and speed, rather than to be any use in combat. The vessel reminded Aeryn a little of Talyn shortly after he had been born, both in terms of size and in elegant functionality, although not in armament of course, or rather the lack thereof.

Shadowed by the Prowlers, Aeryn took the pod on a quick circuit of the Glory, checking for any signs of either life or of combat damage. On the far side of the Glory, she was disturbed to see what looked like a large burn mark, as though a high-energy weapon has discharged against the hull. She pointed it out to John.

"Geez, what's that?" he asked through pursed lips.

"Peacekeeper immobilizer pulses leave a mark like that," Aeryn explained, before heading for an external docking port: If the Glory had a docking bay, no one aboard was opening it, so their pod wouldn't be using it today.

"Peacekeeper immobilizer…?" began John, before realising how stupid he would likely sound if he carried on in the same manner, simply echoing her remarks. Aeryn clicked the pods comms open.

"Captain to both Prowlers, keep circling the Hynerian ship. We'll keep personal comms open. Moya, Prowlers, if you seen anything suspicious, anything at all, let us know," she commanded, before turning her attention to the final approach. Of course, she knew her commands were unnecessary. Everyone knew what was expected of them, but she felt she had to give them, nonetheless, if only to distract her own thoughts away from her children and to the tactical matter at hand.

With the gentlest of thuds, Aeryn brought the pod up against the hull of the Glory. She leapt from her seat and made for the pod's door. John was already there, working his way through the docking cycle, while the three commandos stood around him, their pulse rifles already drawn. J'alark stood a little back from the door, hoping nervously from foot to foot, her hair already bright red from the stress. Aeryn knew that J'alark probably didn't want to be on this mission. The Interon, so like their late shipmate Jool, didn't cope well when guns or other dangers were involved. But if there were injured survivors aboard the Glory or if any of the boarding party were injured, then having her on hand, rather than waiting back on Moya, might make all the difference between life and death.

After a few microts, John completed sealing the docking port and actuated the opening mechanisms. The doors to both the pod and the Glory swung open with a hiss as the air pressures equalised. Everyone in the pod could now see and hear that the Glory was silent and in total darkness.

"Pittach, you stay here and guard the pod," Aeryn ordered one of the commandos as she stepped past her. Pittach was a young female who had been no older than a cadet during the Scarran-Peacekeeper and Kkore wars. Pittach nodded, stern-faced. Despite her relative youth, she was a very competent soldier, a couple of cycles older than Aeryn had been when she had first met John, and neither John or Aeryn had any qualms about leaving her alone to guard the pod. Aeryn drew her pulse pistol, flicked on the torch she already had strapped to it, and followed the first commando through the door.

John drew Winona and flicked on his own torch, the beam dancing crazily around inside the airlock of the Glory. He motioned J'alark to follow Aeryn, which, with obvious reluctance, the Interon did. John and the remaining commando followed her into the dark airlock and then into the corridor beyond, bringing up the rear of the small boarding party. Apart from the darkness, the inside of the Glory, with it's clean, white, spacious passageways, was the most "Star Trek" like ship John had ever seen in his time away from earth.

They moved into the sumptuous, but eerily quiet, corridors of the Hynerian yacht, making for the bridge. Aeryn thought the command center was probably as good a place as any to try to find their answers, so that was where they were headed.

Aeryn was proud of the way her companions moved, like the well-drilled Marauder team that they were, that they could have been, had they been serving Peacekeepers. After all, of their number, it was only J'alark who could make no claim to having some form of PK commando training. Over the cycles, even John had learned from Aeryn how to behave like a proficient warrior.

After a couple of junctions, Aeryn called a halt and pulled out a small data pad. John and the two commandos took up defensive postures, whilst Aeryn peered at the downloaded floor plans of the Glory on her pad.

"This way," she said, waving twice with her pistol whilst stowing the pad back in the pocket on her left thigh, even as she began to lead the group down one of the corridors. She was anxious to get to the bridge and get answers: So far she mostly had just questions, and they were not comforting.

Three more junctions and two manually-forced doors later, they came to the door leading to the Glory's command. And still there had been no sign of the crew, or clue as to what might have happened to them. As her mind ran through a list of unpleasant possibilities as to what might have happened to the ship and thus to her offspring, her demeanor was as quiet as the dark corridors of the Glory.

Aeryn and one of the commandos covered John as he tried to force open the door to the bridge, while the other commando kept watch up and down the corridor. J'alark fidgeted her weight from foot to foot and tried to imagine herself somewhere else entirely. With a squeak from the mechanism, John finally got the door to open a dozen denches. He stood back a moment to gather his strength and finish the job but, before he could stop her, Aeryn wriggled her slim frame through the gap and disappeared into the darkness beyond.

"Dammit, woman!" John cursed after her, as he and the Peacekeeper beside him hurriedly set about trying to force the doors far enough apart for them to follow.

The bridge was compact, with work stations for a pilot, a captain and two other crew. It was as dark and deserted as the rest of the ship. Aeryn immediately made for the captain's console. As with the other positions, the seat and workstation was obviously designed for the short but wide frame of a Hynerian, forcing Aeryn to stand as she worked. Unstrapping her torch from her pulse weapon, she laid her gun down on the seat and began inspecting the console. Some things were obvious to her as a pilot who had flown many ships from several different cultures, but other things she just guessed. The translator microbes were not much use with written Hynerian. After pressing a few buttons, she managed to bring the console to life. A few buttons and switches later, just as John came up beside her, and she brought light to the whole bridge.

John and J'alark raised their hands to their eyes, temporarily blinded by the sudden light, whilst the two commandos snapped down the tinted visors on their helmets and took up covering positions in the doorway.

"Will you wait up in the future? Or at least tell me what you're planning?" John admonished her, irritation obvious in his voice and body language.

"Fine, John," she replied apparently ignoring him, as her fingers and attention were still centered on the console in front of her. "Whatever…" she added in English, with the hint of a smirk playing around her lips at her own use of the English brush-off.

"Don't you play that game with me, missy…" John said in what she recognised as one of his serious tones. Her rush to enter the bridge, no matter the risk to herself, was clearly not yet forgiven.

Aeryn stopped worked for a couple of microts and centered her attention on him, locking her eyes with his.

"John, can we do this later? Right now I want to find out what's become of Deke and Livvy." She turned her attention back to the console as she corrected herself. "I need to find out."

"Of course, sorry," he apologized with a nod and a submissive lowering of his eyes. "Anything yet?"

"No…. hang on, this seems to be ship wide comms….." she said, tapping on another set of controls. "This is Captain Aeryn Sun-Crichton, of the leviathan Moya. Is there anyone aboard?" There was silence for a several microts and Aeryn was just about to move on to try something else when they heard a babble of voices, all shouting at once. Then one of the voices hushed the others into silence.

"We're in the galley, tied up!" The single voice said in Hynerian. The speaker sounded a little like Rygel, Aeryn thought to herself.

Aeryn had to stop herself from rushing off to the galley straight away, but the Peacekeeper officer in her knew better: She had to try and establish what had happened first, find out what she and her team might be facing down there. Or perhaps even on the way down there.

"Who are you, what happened here?" She demanded into the comms.

"I'm Captain Xulfer, and this is my ship," The pomposity was definitely Hynerian, Aeryn thought to herself. "We were attacked by pirates, but we haven't heard anything from our attackers for arns. I think they might have gone."

"Was anyone hurt?" John asked with some urgency.

"No, not really, nothing serious…." replied Xulfer, although there seemed to Aeryn to be a hint of uncertainty or something like it in his voice.

"And our offspring?"

"They were not hurt…" again, Aeryn thought that there was a strange edge to Xulfer's reply, as though he were not telling them everything.

"Can you come to us, on the bridge?" Aeryn asked. She was reluctant to move her team from their position. Apart from the increased risk of ambush relative to defending a fixed position, she didn't want to relinquish control of the command deck until she was sure the ship was secure. Their group was too small to risk breaking up if there might still be hostiles aboard.

"No," Xulfer grumbled. "They tied us up down here!"

Aeryn sighed. She didn't like it, but it seemed she had little choice. "Fine. We'll come to you, Sun out." She snapped off the communications channel.

"Officer Dalart," Aeryn addressed the more senior of her remaining Peacekeepers. "Hold here, keep comms open with us, and don't let anyone in except us. If in doubt, use lethal force." Dalart, an eager, well-built male of around 30 cycles, nodded, and stood ready to close the door once the others had left.

Aeryn had to draw on all of her Peacekeeper training to stop herself from rushing to the galley. She ordered the remaining commando in their small group to take point instead of her in order to ensure they approached the galley with at least some caution, and she insisted that John take the rear, knowing that was the only way she could stop him from rushing on ahead. At least now they had the ship's lighting to see by, reducing the chances of them being caught in a simple ambush.

After a tense couple of hundred microts, Aeryn called her depleted team to a halt and checked the ship's schematics on her data pad: They were there, at the galley. She gestured to the others to indicate the door that led to the galley, and then that J'alark should fall back a dozen paces. The Interon didn't need to be told twice.

As J'alark scurried back down the corridor, Aeryn took up position, pistol drawn, to one side of the door, with John standing to the other side. The remaining commando activated the door mechanism and Aeryn waited only long enough to ensure that no one immediately fired through the door before she swung inside, and was followed a microt later by her husband.

The small galley had been trashed, and two small knots of figures were bundled within: Four, no, five Hynerians were lined up along one wall, whereas two Sebaceans sat, tied back to back, closer to the door. The prisoners all began talking at once, plunging the room into a cacophony of demands.

Despite the noise, Aeryn heard John's sharp intake of breath behind her, matching her own sentiments: The Sebaceans were Peacekeeper guards by the look of them, all black leather and attitude, probably sent along by Rygel to protect their children. But of Deke and Livvy there was no sign.

Whilst Aeryn and the remaining Peacekeeper from Moya's crew stood guard, their weapons drawn, John and J'alark, who had quickly and eagerly returned to the relative safety of the main group, set about the business of releasing the crew from their restraints and checking them for injuries.

"We didn't see them coming… they.. Err.. knocked out the ship and all of us… no idea what it was," the old Hynerian Captain blustered as John untied him.

At that point one of the two, still bound, Peacekeepers interrupted the old Hynerian. "It was a Peacekeeper immobilizer pulse: Fried the ship and us with it. Once they were in range, we never stood a chance."

John and Aeryn were both shocked: They thought they had an understanding with Peacekeeper High Command these days, far less full pardons and the mutual protection of Hyneria and the Scarrans against anyone interfering with them or their family and friends.

"High Command wouldn't dare…!" began Aeryn.

"Bastards!" contributed John, his old feelings towards the Peacekeeper establishment bubbling to the surface.

"They were Sebaceans, but not PKs," Captain Xulfer offered with some enthusiasm as they released the Hynerian from his bonds.

"I agree, I don"t think they were Peacekeepers, Commandant," put in one of the PKs, using Aeryn's last formal rank as if to emphasize the high regard in which she was held, by him at least.

"They were locking us all up in here, then suddenly, they grabbed the two kids and dragged them out. Why, I don't know," continued Xulfer.

"I have an idea why," said the other Peacekeeper hostage. John and Aeryn's attention turned to him in an instant.

"And you are?" asked Aeryn, perhaps more sharply than she intended.

"Officer Nellon, Commandant," he replied, not apparently concerned by her brusque manner. That was no surprise: Even in these more enlightened times, Peacekeeper officers still often took a brusque approach with their subordinates. "Sub-officer Hillark and I were assigned to act as bodyguards for your offspring on the trip from Hyneria." He gave a nod to indicate that the other man was the Hillark of whom he spoke.

"So, what do you think happened?" John demanded of Nellon.

"Well, we didn't hear the pirates say anything, not to start with. Then your offspring started whispering to each other in that funny language of yours," Nellon nodded towards John to indicate which language he meant. "That's when it happened."

"What happened?"

"I was just getting to that. It was when they heard your offspring speaking."

"What?" Demanded John, getting increasingly frustrated. Over the cycles he had grown used to it being his role to be the confusing person in conversations and he didn't like his position being usurped.

"That they took them," supplied Nellon. "But there's something else. The pirates. They started speaking themselves, then. And I think it was the same language that your offspring had been using. They were speaking Ooman."

John and Aeryn exchanged a long, quizzical look. John shook his head. "I've, umm, a bad feeling about this," John said at last. Aeryn nodded, slowly, struggling to stay in control. Her face had turned almost as pale as that of a Nebari.

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In the next chapter, Sikozu has a cunning plan and there's a bit of a fight…. Tune in next week.

Once I finish writing and correcting this I promise to start posting it more frequently rather than sitting on it, by the way. That is should I end up with lots of chapters in hand.