Chiana pads through the hallway to Moya's docking bay, looking over her shoulder every few microts. She doesn't know what she'll find in Crais's prowler, but she wants a chance to look through it alone, without anyone telling her to her to mind her own business or demanding to see things before she can even take a look. The others have already decided not to trust the former Peacekeeper, except for Aeryn, who's seems to think he's some kind of blessed martyr who can do no wrong.
Chiana knows better. People aren't good or evil, they just do things for their own reasons. It's a matter of finding out what Crais's reasons are, and there are only two ways to do that. The first one is searching the prowler to see if any of his possessions give away more of his story than he will. The second is trying to get him in a sharing kind of mood. She'll try that later, if Aeryn doesn't beat her to it. Or if Aeryn fails. That woman has nice loomas, but she's as stiff as a pulse rifle and gives the impression she'd be about as much fun to go to bed with-- not exactly the type to coax out answers out of a man who doesn't want to give them.
A buzzing sound startles Chiana so badly that she leaps up, twisting her body in mid air, and lands facing the opposite direction. The source of the sound wiggles its antenni in what she suspects is amusement.
She bends down to glare at the DRD. "You think it's funny, scaring people like that? Shoo!" She flicks her hands in the opposite direction of the docking bay. "Go on, go fix something, or whatever it is you do."
The machine ignores her, and when she continues down the hallway, it rolls along beside her.
She shrugs. "Alright, well, if you're going to be that way, then you can help me by keeping a lookout for the others. So, Moya wants to see what's up with Crais too, huh? That why you're tailing me?"
The DRD blinks once.
Inside the prowler, she feels a vague sense of disappointment. No piles of stolen currency glitter in the storage area. No weapons cache reveals itself. It does appear he's modified the main control console, which probably explains how he managed to hide his location from Moya. Unless the modifications are some sort of transmitter, screaming their current location to the Scarrans? She decides she'll ask Cricthon about it later.
All she finds in the storage area are boxes of food, bottles of water, and a couple of changes of clothing. She unfolds a shirt and then stuffs it back in place. Even the fabric is boring. Maybe if she turns on the console she'll be able to dig for some information. She takes a step toward the front of the prowler and notices the floor gives a little bit beneath her foot. She steps again with more force, then jumps to the side, landing hard on both feet, in order to feel how the "normal" floor reacts.
The DRD imitates her, rolling back and forth over the odd section of floor. It extends one of its tools, a long, jointed arm with a claw at the end, and runs it over the floor until it finds a seam.
"Nice work."
She bends down and uses her fingers to pry at the seam, while the DRD uses its claw. Together, they lift the panel free, revealing something far from boring.
At first, she assumes the young man must be alive. He's been wadded up to fit into the small space, but his face looks so peaceful he could be sleeping. The color of his skin is perfect, for a Sebaccean, darkly exotic like Crais's and without any unusual blotches or marks. He looks like someone she'd like to have fun with, definitely not someone she'd want to knock out and stuff under the floor. Crais sure as hezmana has some explaining to do.
Chiana reaches out to stroke one of the young man's cheeks. "Hey, wake up!"
His face feels cold against her skin and he gives no response, even when she takes him by the shoulder and shakes him. She reaches under his arms and pulls him up onto the floor of the prowler, straining against his weight. Cradling his head in her lap, she surveys the rest of his body, all perfect save for a gruesome spot on his chest where it looks like the skin has been melted. She feels for a pulse and is overcome with revulsion when she finds none. She doesn't even know how long he's been dead!
Shuddering, she stands up and darts out of the prowler, anxious to find someone, anyone other than Crais or Scorpius, and tell about the dead man. She doesn't even want to think about whether there are any more people stashed in that prowler. In fact, for now, she only wants to know one thing-- is Crais still locked away where he belongs?