Chapter 12:

Sikozu, Nybar and Kovack, accompanied by two ex-Peacekeeper guards, strode down one of Moya's golden, ribbed corridors towards one of the Leviathan's docking bays. All aboard the ship, both human and Moyan, had been shocked by the transmissions that Pilot had picked up from Earth, indicating that the X-469 had been destroyed and all aboard killed. They had been equally surprised to learn that unidentified aliens had been implicated as the culprits in the ships destruction. Then they had detected a transmission indicating that the authorities were looking for John and Aeryn. However, the quality and quantity of signals reaching Moya through the wormhole were extremely limited. Transmissions were sporadic and garbled through excessive radio interference. As a consequence, Nybar and Sikozu had agreed a plan to investigate further.

"What we are going to do," Sikozu explained for the third time, her voice a mix of irritation and exasperation, "Is take a transport pod through the wormhole, find out what is going on, what has happened to our friends and to explain to those deficient humans you work for exactly why they should hand over Aeryn and John's children to us."

"Who're you calling deficient?" Kovack snapped back, finding her lecturing manner more than a little irritating, "And why just a transport pod?"

Sikozu and Nybar exchanged a short, meaningful glance as the small group paused before the docking bay door. There was no way in hezmanna that they were going to tell the human captain that Peacekeeper ships could not negotiate wormholes without the unfortunate side-effect of liquefying the occupants. That was a strategic weakness they would rather keep unknown at this point. Neither were they going to explain Moya's reluctance to travel through wormholes. Or, for that matter, their own quite reasonable fears that hostile aliens might just already be lurking on the other side. An unarmed transport pod was the only option they had, without risking Moya, so they were both trying not to think about that last point.

Nybar actuated a mechanism and the ovoid door swung open along its vertical axis. The former Peacekeper motioned that Kovack should step through the larger of the two openings this created.

"That is none of your concern," Nybar replied, giving the human a gentle push into the chamber beyond.

"Well, it is if you want me to come along," Kovack returned, stepping through into the docking bay. He had never been in the bay before, and paused for a moment, taking in the variety of craft within: There were two small, sleek craft, which resembled Earth fighter jets: Those would be Prowlers, he remembered from reports of the Moyans' previous visit to Earth. Then there was a larger, boxy craft, clearly of similar provenance to the Prowlers, but which he did not know the designation for. He wondered why they were not taking one of those larger, military ships, but clearly his companions were not going to tell him. Between the two Prowlers sat a more organic, squat, cylindrical craft, which he took to be the transport pod, not least because Sikozu was now indicating that he should move towards it. "And I won't be able to fly your craft, anyway." Kovack remarked.

"That is not what we want you for," Nybar snapped back.

"I'll be flying." Sikozu said pointedly. "It won't be the first time I've flown a pod down a wormhole. We're still picking up the location beacon from Aeryn's Prowler, so I don't anticipate having any difficulty…" Sikozu was curious as to why the beacon on the Prowler was still functioning, as logically it should have been destroyed in the explosion on the X-469. Perhaps the Prowler had not been aboard at the time? If so, then perhaps Aeryn or John were still alive? That hope was certainly supported by the latest transmissions they had picked up, the ones indicating that Aeryn and john were being sought by law enforcement agencies on Earth. She had discussed this with Nybar and some of the others aboard Moya, but, as they could not raise John or Aeryn on any comms channel, they did not know what to conclude. Perhaps they would find answers on the other side of the wormhole? Sikozu hoped so, as she regarded Aeryn as one of her closest, if not her closest friend, and fervently hoped that she had somehow survived the explosion. The latest transmissions and the fact that the Prowler's beacon was still functional were almost the only crumbs of hope they had right now, and Sikozu clung to them.

"Then what am I coming for?" Kovack repeated, as the group boarded the pod, which, Kovack noted, had obviously been built in the same style as Moya.

Sikozu settled herself in one of the two, clamshell like chairs which Kovack took to be pilot seats. Pulling what seemed to be a control arm across her lap, she smiled sweetly at the human, answering, "Let's just say we're taking you as an advisor." Then the smile faded a few notches. "As well as proof of what has really been going on. Pilot, we are prepared for departure."

Kovack watched the pod's pilot intently, trying to forget the two Peacekeeper guards who were seated near to him, their unholstered side arms pointed his way. Sikozu expertly flew the pod out of the docking bay and down the long passage, which lead out into space. Soon the pod was several kilometers away from the larger ship and approaching the wormhole, which had remained open ever since Moya's arrival in this system. Sikozu opened a channel to the Pilot once again.

"Pilot, is wormhole stability sufficient for us to safely traverse?"

"As far as Moya and I can determine…. Good luck to you all," Pilot's disembodied voice replied.

"Then I suggest everyone aboard straps themselves in securely," Sikozu remarked, working some switches on her controls. Waiting only long enough for her companions to secure themselves as best they could, Sikozu flicked on some sort of guidance system, causing a holographic display to project in front of her. Pushing the pod's control stalk forwards and downwards, she took them into the wormhole.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

John awoke with a headache the likes of which he hadn't suffered since his last frat party, some decades previously. Then pain started to register from across his anatomy. Make that more like a headache unlike any since that motorbike accident he'd had when he was a kid. Road! Accident! Earth! Aeryn! FRELL! His mind cycled in quick succession, as the events preceding his lapse into unconsciousness came back to him.

It was several microts before he registered that he was strapped to some sort of bed and that he was not alone. Masked medical technicians fluttered around him. One leaned over his head, pulled his eyelids apart and shone a penlight in his eyes. John protested and the technician looked up at one of the other people present.

"He's awake," the masked face above him announced.

"Excellent," replied a woman, who, unlike all the others, was not dressed in surgical gown or mask. She had just walked across the room to stand beside John's head. "I presume that means that there was no serious brain damage and thus we can proceed?"

The closest masked face nodded sharply in the affirmative.

John found himself, not for the first time in recent days, wishing that he and his family were safely back home on Moya rather than, apparently, stuck in one of his worst nightmares. A microt or two passed. He was still on this crazy planet. Frell: Nothing to do but engage with what his senses were telling him, be it reality or not.

"What do you want from me and my family?" John demanded. The woman seemed to consider this for a few microts.

"You know, I'm really not sure yet," the woman responded once she had considered the matter. "When we think of something, maybe we'll let you know. Prep him, I'm going to check on the other new subject."

The woman turned and walked smartly to the door, the sound of her clicking heels on the hard floor vanishing unnaturally quickly to John's ears as some new drug was pumped into his system. By the time the sound of the door shutting cracked across the room, John was already unconscious again.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

The buzzer went on Beth Laszlo's office desk. She tapped the intercom.

"Senator Mitchell and General MacCarthy have both just arrived, ma'am," came the disembodied voice from site security. They had both immediately responded to the summons from Fairfax, indicating that Crichton and Sun had been captured. They had even overcome their mutual dislike enough to share the same company helicopter from Washington. TR Holt was currently still in Florida, chasing the aliens there. Kim Lee was also in Florida, trying to ensure that the civil and military authorities involved in their programme stayed on side. For her part, Laszlo was delighted that she alone now held the reigns of power in Columbia and was determined to make the most of it.

"Excellent, bring them to my office straight away," Laszlo replied before returning to inspecting the contents of Aeryn Sun's bag. They had recovered a surprising number and variety of weapons from the alien's bag and a further selection concealed about her person. These had now been laid out on the conference table in Laszlo's office. On a smaller side table they had placed the items which had been taken from Crichton. Looking at the selection and the contrast between what had been taken from the two prisoners, Laszlo could now well believe that, despite her appearance, the alien woman was some sort of super-soldier. It certainly seemed they had been quite fortunate to have apprehended her without casualties. She would have to remind everyone involved with the alien to take extra care and not make any assumptions which could comprise security.

Some things from the haul Laszlo recognized: A selection of guns, big and small, some combat knives, and some sort of headset: A matching headset had been retrieved from Crichton. She would have to prioritize those headsets with the electronics division, they could be most profitable. There were also other, as yet unidentified items that she would have to get her scientists and engineers to look at more closely, although she was fairly sure that some were spare cartridges for the weapons, and others were explosive charges of some sort. Then there a few incongruous items: Crichton's sister's credit card. They would have to think about the implications of that when Holt arrived. A small amount of cash. Some chocolate bars. And, most oddly, a CD of Tom Jones' Greatest Hits. Laszlo frowned and shook her head at that one. Maybe there was some secret, alien software or message hidden on it. She would have to get the computer techs to look into that. She'd have to warn them to be extra careful, though: the CD's contents could well be highly dangerous to the unprepared.

Laszlo was shaken from her inspection of the haul by the intercom bleeping, announcing Mitchell and MacCarthy's arrival. She pressed a button, bleeping back on the intercom. "Show them right in."

As they entered, Laszlo could see that the two men were both drawn to the tables of weapons. General MacCarthy, she noted, walked straight up to the larger haul, barely acknowledging her presence as he entered.

"Interesting, aren't they?" Laszlo asked. Seeing MacCarthy reach out towards some item she quickly added, "Ahem, I don't recommend you touch anything. Not until we've had it all thoroughly checked over."

"Tom Jones' Greatest Hits?" frowned Mitchell, who had now joined them.

"That especially." Laszlo warned. Mitchell raised an eyebrow and shrugged, accepting her advice.

"I can't see what use they are going to be to us: These two are trained, hardened adults. They're not going to tell us anything we don't already know. Especially under the circumstances," MacCarthy expounded.

"I agree. They are more of a liability than an asset," Mitchell pointed out.

"Perhaps, perhaps not," countered Laszlo. "My medical teams are currently finding out whatever they can about the female alien, without opening her up, that is. Once that is done, in a day or two, keeping her alive for the next stage doesn't really matter. So yes, I agree, they're a liability so long as we keep them here, alive. The risk of exposure is too great."

"Then we should get rid of them, as quickly as possible. There's nothing to be gained in keeping them alive," Mitchell remarked.

"Perhaps," Laszlo half-conceded. "But they could be used to help illustrate our agenda, strengthen our hand. Then we can still learn just as much from the alien's body."

"What do you mean? What do you have in mind?" asked MacCarthy. Mitchell stared at his rival and, for once, nodded in agreement. Laszlo frowned, wondering which words to use next.

"Look at all these alien weapons. Wouldn't you say it's possible that Crichton and his alien accomplices were planning some sort of atrocity here on Earth," Laszlo suggested. "After all, why else would they have so many weapons?"

"They were? What…?" asked MacCarthy, either not catching on or playing the fool. Mitchell smiled slightly, evidently understanding where Laszlo's thought processes were leading.

"Something which the public would find outrageous," Mitchell suggested, quirking an eyebrow.

Laszlo nodded, with the faintest hint of a smile. "But which wouldn't be so high profile that our people couldn't control the entire situation, without other agencies being there to screw things up."

MacCarthy nodded. "I'm thinking they're bound to be found out and killed just in the nick of time, am I right?" Laszlo smiled that he seemed now to be catching on and playing along.

"Most certainly," she replied.

"Where and when?" asked Mitchell, getting to the point.

"Here would be perfect, we have control," suggested Laszlo.

"No, no, it would have to be somewhere public enough for witnesses. That way there's no likelihood of public sympathy," Mitchell put in. "In fact, it would be nice if some of it could be captured on film. By someone the public would trust, of course."

"But somewhere low-security enough that we would still have full control, no chance of anyone interfering," put in MacCarthy. Laszlo and Mitchell both nodded assent.

"We'll keep back the young girl, she's easier to control than the others, and we should have less trouble keeping her out of the public eye," Laszlo stated. The other two pondered this for a moment, trying to decide if this was a good idea or one that would fatally compromise the rest of their plan.

"She's only a child," Laszlo explained, seeing their uncertainty and deciding they would need more persuading to come round to her point of view.

"This is not the time to be squeamish or sentimental," Mitchell, scolded. Laszlo gave a toothy smile, as if to show that she was anything but.

"No no, you misunderstand," she replied. "People would be less likely to believe she's part of a terrorist cell, plus we risk losing the sympathy factor." That last point was enough for Mitchell, at least, who now nodded his assent. Seeing the prevailing wind, MacCarthy shrugged.

"We need to talk to Holt, get something planned," Mitchell, voiced all their thoughts.

"He'll be on his way back from Florida soon. I'll schedule a meeting," Laszlo picked up her phone and dialed. "While he's making arrangements, we can finish our tests on the alien and the boy."

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

The ten minutes since Moya's transport pod had emerged from the wormhole had been packed with surprises for all those aboard.

The first surprise, although only to Sikozu as only she truly understood that there were other possibilities, was that they actually did seem to have made it to Earth. Better yet, it was the right Earth in the right time period, at least as far as she could tell. Surprise had been more widespread amongst the pod's occupants when they discovered that Aeryn's Prowler's beacon was now located on the planet surface, close to the North American Eastern seaboard, a short distance from the capital city. Then had come the broadcasts from the planet, now uninterrupted and interference-free, which seemed to imply that Aeryn and John had somehow survived the explosion of the X-469. However, the couple now appeared to be fugitives, the subject of a manhunt down below. That part was, in its way, at least encouraging news, the first they had had for some time, Sikozu reflected.

The last surprise, although it only counted as such to Kovack, was the motley collection of electronics which Sikozu had proudly pulled from storage at the back of the pod. She had then even more proudly announced it to be a two way radio communication system, compatible with Earth technology, that she, Crichton and Deke had made a couple of cycles ago as some sort of science project. Actually, it was not quite true that that was the biggest surprise. The biggest surprise for Kovack was that, when Sikozu turned it on and dialed in the frequency for Florida Space Command, which he had supplied, the jumble of components crackled into life.

"Hello," opened Sikozu in perfect English, with a very pleased-with-herself smile.

"Hello? Please identify yourself…. And get off the air. This is a restricted frequency," said an English speaking male voice with unconcealed irritation.

"Is that Florida Space Command?" Sikozu replied breezily. She was supremely confident that she should not, in fact, be getting off this frequency. She took the grunted reply from the device as confirmation that she was speaking to the right people.

"If so, then I expect you should remember me from my last visit to your planet. I am Sikozu Svala Shanti Sugaysi Shanu of the Leviathan Moya." Nybar grunted to indicate he was also present on the call.

"Ummm. Please can you repeat that?" came the disembodied voice again. Sikozu ignored the request and continued with her own agenda.

"We understand that the Sun-Crichton family are currently guests on your delightful planet, either as prisoners or fugitives. We know how modest they would be about claiming their diplomatic privileges, but I think that we are past the point where such modesty would be useful. So I think you should know that Captain Sun-Crichton and her family are honorary members of the Royal house of Hyneria. Indeed, their offspring are the Dominar's God-Children."

"What the hell are you going on about?" Interrupted the voice from the planet.

"I know how much your planet must desire to have beneficial relations with the major powers out in your galaxy. I also know from my time on Earth, and from my conversations with Captain Kovack…. Say hello, Captain…."

"Um, hello…" Kovack contributed, before Nybar indicated with a raised finger that he should fall silent again.

"… that you haven't really been able to familiarize yourself with galactic laws and norms of behaviour."

"Kovack, is that you, can you confirm please?" the Earth-bound voice returned with some excitement. Nybar nodded to indicate that he should reply.

"I can indeed. I can also confirm that most of the X-469's crew were aboard Moya when the X-469 exploded, and that I, personally, do not believe that these aliens deliberately played any part in its destruction," Kovack rushed out, knowing that he would be ordered into silence again soon.

Sikozu and Nybar both nodded in satisfaction at that contribution. Sikozu continued, cutting across the slightly confused protests now coming from the planet.

"And now, perhaps, for your safety, I ought also familiarize you with paragraph 89 of the Quajaga Peace Treaty?"

"I'm sorry, what are you talking about…? Put Captain Kovack back on!"

"Listen and pay attention!" Sikozu lectured sternly. "You will understand the treaty is all very wordy. And, of course, not in English. But, to translate and summarize: Under the treaty, signed between Peacekeeper High Command and the Scarran Empire, John Crichton, Aeryn Sun and their offspring are afforded special protection and privileges: Both signatories to the treaty agreed to protect them against any acts of violence, coercion and so forth using any force necessary. Should any such acts be committed against them, Peacekeeper and Scarran forces are authorized to take extreme retributive actions."

There was silence for a few seconds. "I'm sorry, could you repeat….?"

"I said, under the terms of the Quajaga Peace Treaty, both Peacekeeper High Command and the Scarran Empire are obliged and authorized to use any force necessary to protect John, Aeryn and their children and to take any retribution they see fit if they are attacked," Sikozu reiterated with a heartfelt sigh. There was another short silence. These humans really where very slow on the uptake.

"You wouldn't…."

"No indeed, I wouldn't," Sikozu confirmed. "Not personally. But, being a Kalish, I would caution you to consider what actions the Scarran empire might take, especially in view of their desire to find Earth and exploit its botanical resources."

"Please can you…?" the voice began again, but Sikozu was in no mood for a long conversation.

"So, shall we expect the Sun-Crichtons to be aboard Moya within three solar days? That seems more than reasonable." Sikozu pressed on.

There was a growing commotion at the other end of the radio.

"…orders..! Cut the transmission!" A voice ordered, almost out of earshot to those on the pod. Without further warning, the sound of voices in the command center was replaced with static.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

Colonel Sorenson rushed onto the bridge of the X-473 as best he could, considering they were in zero-gravity. As he did so, he called out to Lieutenant Blaine, the most senior, and indeed only officer currently present.

"Louis, bring propulsion, guidance and weapons systems on line…Now!"

"Sir!" Blaine snapped back, already working on the banks of switches in front of him, powering up the main engines and the primary and secondary weapons systems.

Sorenson slipped into the captain's seat beside Blaine and flicked open the ship-board general address system. "All hands, battle stations, now. This is not a drill!" he barked, before snapping the comms off again. Everyone! Yeah, right, he reflected. The X-473 was between missions, awaiting essential resupply and several minor repairs, with just a skeleton crew aboard. However, the urgent, encrypted message the Colonel had just received from General MacArthur had made it perfectly clear that Sorenson would just have to do the best he could with what he had. Anyway, it should not be a long mission: MacArthur had informed him that an alien ship, allied with the group who had destroyed the X-469 and murdered her crew, had been detected in Earth orbit. Sorenson and his crew were to move to intercept and destroy the aliens. Revenging the X-469's crew wasn't something that the Colonel had any trouble with: No trouble at all, he concluded, as he secured the seat's harness.

Now safely strapped in and nearly all necessary orders issued to get the ship underway, Sorenson accessed the guidance system. The computer had already received the coordinates, on the up-link with Earth control, that they needed to locate the alien craft and plot an intercept course.

"Course laid in, Lieutenant Blaine," Sorenson barked. Just then Lieutenant Brockman entered. Sorenson raised his voice to be sure that Brockman would hear. "Brock, take weapons. Gentlemen, we're ordered to intercept and eliminate an alien craft which has just entered orbit."

"Are they the same ones who…?" Brockman began. He didn't need to finish the question.

"Certainly are!" Sorenson replied.

"Sir!" Brockman and Blaine barked back enthusiastically.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

"Sensors show that there is a ship approaching us from below," Sikozu remarked. "175 motras, rendezvous in 30 microts," she continued, having rechecked her readouts.

"Presumably an Earth ship?" Nybar asked.

"It doesn't have one of our beacons…" Sikozu replied, checking a couple more readouts.

"If they've responded so quickly to our presence, then it must be the X-473," Kovack remarked. There was no other ship with such maneuverability and speed likely to be in orbit.

"The second ship like yours?" Nybar asked. Kovack nodded agreement.

Sikozu and Nybar's eyes met. They both had the same thought at the same time: Not only had Kovack's ship had been heavily armed, the humans were blaming them for it's destruction. Nybar's military training and hard won experience was quicker than Sikozu's bioloid speed, tempered as it was by her still sometimes child-like innocence. Nybar leant across Sikozu and grabbed and twisted the pod's control column, sending the pod spiraling randomly on a new course and throwing the rest of it's occupants tumbling around like pop-corn in a microwave.

The pulse from the X-473's main armament missed the transport pod by little more than an arm's length, the arc of plasma clearly visible through the pod's forward view port.

Sikozu stared at the plasma arc in near disbelief, frozen into inaction for a couple of precious microts.

"Sikozu, get us to the wormhole, NOW!" Nybar ordered, throwing himself into the co-pilot's seat and strapping himself in.

Sikozu didn't waste further time on an answer: She didn't have to. Her actions spoke for her, as she pushed the pod's engine to maximum and began making for the wormhole in a jagged zig-zag.

"How long till they can fire that weapon again?" Nybar shouted at Kovack.

"About 60 seconds…"

"And how long till we get to the wormhole?" Nybar barked at Sikozu, who, he noted, had heard that they had 60 seconds and had thus already stopped evasive maneuvers and was making straight for the swirling blue maw.

"About 40 microts – seconds!" Sikozu snapped back, just as the pod shook from some sort of impact, the rear erupting in sparks. "Frell! They've secondary weapons! Why the frell didn't you say they had secondary weapons?" Sikozu shouted as another jolt shook the pod. More sparks flew all around them and a jet of steam billowed from a broken conduit.

"Well, we know now!" Nybar shouted back.

Sikozu checked on another readout, which had given her a slither of good news. "But, on the positive…. The force of those impacts has increased our speed, which means we will reach the wormhole 10 microts sooner!"

Seconds later, trailing vapour and minor debris, the damaged transport pod plunged into the swirling blue mouth of the wormhole. Sikozu clutched at the control arm, trying to safely fly the yawing pod through the whirling eddies of space-time and successfully navigate their way back to Moya. Then, another shot from the pursuing Earth ship hit the pod, nearly wrenching the control column from her hands and deflecting their course towards the walls of the wormhole.

"Hang on!" shouted Sikozu as the side of the wormhole seemed to rear up angrily towards them.

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

So, do you think things will get better for our heroes in the next chapter?