Title: Redemption
Author: Banshae, 2001
Rating: R (violence, implied rape, cussing)
Disclaimer: You know and I know that I don't own these characters. I'm just
borrowing them for my own little passion plays. However, I DO own the original
characters and places, so no snurching!
Spoilers: All of seasons 1 & 2, pretty much all of season three, up to IP:
Dadelus Demands
Archiving: You actually want this?! Just let me know: morgayne@hotmail.com,
so I can jump up and down and do a happy dance.
Summary: Takes place after IP: Dadelus Demands. Talyn's crew stops off at a
commerce planet and Aeryn turns up missing.
Special thanks to Felix, who argued with me and encouraged me and gave me
great ideas. This fic wouldn't have been the same without him. Thanks also to
Darkman., Intrepid Beta Reader.
Redemption: Part 7
"Bring the bounty and you shall have your prize unharmed. You have the coordinates. I trust you will arrive in a timely manner? " Kelhvek smirked at the image on the viewscreen.
The Peacekeeper captain, a strong-jawed woman with a vicious scar curving across her left cheek, fixed Kelhvek with icy blue eyes. It was bad enough dealing with a slave trader, but Kelhvek's appearance clearly disgusted her. "We must have her alive-"
"Of course, of course. I am a respectable merchant," Kelhvek interrupted, delighted at the other's discomfort. "I look forward to our meeting. Now, you must excuse me, I have other customers to attend to." Before she could answer, he cut the transmission and leaned back in his seat, smiling.
He allowed himself a few moments to gloat over the look of distaste on the captain's face before turning to a darkened corner of the room. "Come, little one," he said, beckoning the slave forward. "What have you to say about my dealings with the Peacekeepers?"
The Ka'rhau Singer stepped out of the shadows, coming no closer than she had to, "She is not trustworthy, master-"
"Pah! I do not need you to tell me that!"
She inclined her head, continuing only when he stayed silent. "She intends to destroy you as soon as she has the Sebecean. She dislikes your treatment of her, and her orders leave room for her own 'discretion' once she has acquired her target."
"Is that all?" Kelhvek asked, glaring at her.
"Yes, master."
He grunted and activated his comms, "K'shen, report to me immediately."
"Yes, sire."
Kelhvek turned back to the viewscreen to ponder his next move. He was in a delicate situation. The deserter Peacekeeper female in his hold had a bounty on her head many times her worth at auction. However, he was a slave trader and there was also a PK bounty on his head that would make it difficult to collect on the female. He wasn't stupid enough to invite a crew of commandos onto his ship; instead he'd negotiated an exchange on the planet below Tesso3. A Marauder was already on its way to the coordinates; all he had to do now was put the Sebecean on a transport with K'shen and K'tren to ensure the exchange went smoothly.
The door opened and K'shen entered, "Sire?"
"I want the Sebecean female put in a private cell. She's not going at the auction on Tesso3. You and K'tren will leave in six arns and transport her to these coordinates," Kelhvek passed him a datacube. "A Peacekeeper Marauder crew will meet you and an exchange will take place. The Sebecean for the bounty."
K'shen nodded, "As you wish, sire." He turned to go but stopped when Kelhvek spoke again.
"They want her alive, so I suggest you drug her again. Otherwise, she seems to be more than you and your brother can handle."
K'shen's eyes narrowed, but he only nodded and bowed once before leaving the room. Kelhvek watched him go, then glanced to where Alaethe still stood. He smiled at her, "Go back to your cell and make yourself ready for the auction tomorrow, little one."
******
Tesso3 was an ugly, patchwork space station, built by the Consortium of Trao as a trading outpost more than 75 cycles ago. It was still run by a Consortium Family, who allowed "free trade" (as it was euphemistically put) so long as they got a percentage of the profit. It was also the crossroads of licit and illicit commerce for this sector of space.
If a captain found himself with a load of questionable cargo, he would set course for Tesso3 to dispose of it discreetly. If a merchantman wanted exotic entertainment, there was no better place for it than Tesso3. If a party felt wronged by another, Tesso3 teemed with heavily armed muscle willing to exact the appropriate revenge. Anything was possible on Tesso3, given the right amount of currency.
Right now, Bialar was hoping it would be possible to find Aeryn and get off of Tesso3 before one of the inhabitants decided to test their small party.
"This place is a drenhole," D'Argo said.
"For once I agree with you, Luxan." Bialar kept his hand near the pulse pistol strapped to his thigh as they strode through the crowd. They'd arrived on the station only five arns ago and he was already sick of the stench of unwashed bodies, organic waste and overused air. Even the relatively clean bar they'd killed time in earlier had been grimy enough to make him want toshower.
Now they were headed for one of the outer sections of the station, and the further they got from the Family-run central core, the less he liked it. The hodgepodge architecture and the inhabitants shared a dreary ugliness that set his teeth on edge. He'd been on a sufficient number of rough and tumble shore leaves as a Peacekeeper to recognize the area they were currently as one step above a slum, inhabited by those who would just as soon kill you as sell you raslak.
And the further they got from the core, the longer it would take them to get back to the transport. They'd been forced to dock in the central yard, a good half an arn's walk from their current position. He hoped Aeryn was not badly injured. It would be difficult to make it back to the transport quickly (and raise questions) if they had to carry her.
They passed several more intersections before Crichton drew up short before a corridor, "I think this is it, guys."
"Yes, this is the one," Bialar consulted his navpad briefly. "It connects to the outer ring where the slaver's ship is docked. It should take us directly there."
"Well, let's get going." Crichton moved off, D'Argo following behind. Bialar glanced one last time at the crowd, feeling prying eyes on his back, and then ducked into the corridor as well.
********
Aeryn sprawled in the seat, only the safety harness keeping her from sliding bonelessly to the floor. The now-familiar drug haze was wearing off enough for her to piece together her surroundings. She was obviously in the passenger compartment of a shuttle in flight. From the way the shuttle bucked and yawed, it seemed they were flying in some rather turbulent planetary atmosphere. She could hear the voices of Kelhvek's lackeys, raised in what sounded like argument, drifting from the cockpit. Her hands were cuffed together, but she no longer wore the control collar. Looking down she realized that someone had also dressed her in her old black leathers.
She wondered how long she'd been unconcious this time. It didn't feel like more than a couple of arns, maybe three, since the twins had awakened her in the middle of the sleep cycle and taken her from the cell. She hadn't made it easy for them, and the memory of landing a solid, lip-splitting punch on the one called K'shen made her half-smile unconsciously.
Suddenly, she was thrown against the harness as the shuttle listed Hammond side, engines whining against atmosphere. A sharp, grating pain in her chest made her stifle a gasp as she sat up. It felt like she'd broken at least one rib fighting with the twins. Luckily that seemed to be the most pressing of her injuries.
The cockpit door in front of her unexpectedly flew open with a bang. "Awake already, sladkee? Well, no matter, we're almost to the coordinates and we'll be rid of you soon enough." The smirk on K'tren's face was ruined by a rapidly darkening black eye.
"Looks like you need some medical attention," Aeryn rasped out a laugh against the pain in her side. "And your friend in there needs some flying lessons."
K'tren started forward, but the shuttle lurched again, throwing him into the cargo net behind the cockpit door. He found his footing with a string of curses the translator microbes failed to interpret. "You frelling bitch," he snarled, grabbing her around the throat. "I hope your Peacekeeper comrades kill you slowly and painfully. You deserve the death of a deserter."
The shuttle lurched a third time and K'shen called angrily from the cockpit, "K'tren, get in here!"
Aeryn could hear the blood roaring in her ears as his hand tightened around her neck. His pale eyes were fixed on hers with glee.
"K'tren!"
He released her with a curse and swung back toward the cockpit. "Do you need me to fly this fekking shuttle, frellface?"
"Shut your hole and frelling navigate for me, you worthless siljop!"
Aeryn swallowed thickly, watching K'tren go. Her breath rasped painfully in her bruised throat and the pain in her side was intensifying by the microt, but her mind was focused only on what he'd said: 'I hope your Peacekeeper comrades kill you slowly and painfully. You deserve the death of a deserter.'
The rest of the shuttle ride was a blur for her. The twins cursed and argued and somehow managed pilot the shuttle enough to set down to the planet without crashing.
"The Marauder is already here." K'shen said from the cockpit. "Get her out there."
K'tren appeared in the passenger compartment. "Your friends seem eager to greet you," he leered, unbuckling Aeryn's safety harness. Producing a pulse pistol, he gestured for her to precede him.
Aeryn moved stiffly to the door. K'tren prodded her with the pistol, "Move faster." Turning back to his partner, he snapped, "K'shen, hurry the fek up, I don't want to spend all frelling day here."
She heard the engines power down and then K'shen came out of the cockpit holding his own pulse pistol. She knew she should fight them, refuse to move, try to take a weapon, something. But her mind seemed frozen as they herded her to the door. After all she'd been through- all she'd gained and all she'd lost, she couldn't believe it was coming to this. There were a thousand other ways to die in the Uncharted Territories and being returned to the Peacekeepers was something she'd long ago stopped worrying about. It had just seemed to be too remote of a possibility.
She would be executed, of course. She had been under a death sentence from the day Crais had declared her irreversibly contaminated. The last three and half cycles of stolen time suddenly didn't seem like enough. It felt like there was so much left for her to do...and now she was running out of time.
The shuttle door opened. She was momentarily blinded by daylight and stumbled down the ramp with her eyes tearing. They had landed in a grassy plain that stretched for metras in every direction. There didn't seem to be a mountain or tree as far as she could see, only knee high blue-green grass rolling in the wind like a softly hissing ocean.
Two Peacekeeper commandos were standing in the shade of the Marauder to her right, watching them exit the shuttle. One was a blonde woman, slightly built. The other was taller, a man with a thick braid of snowy white hair. They held their pulse rifles casually pointed at the approaching group.
"Hold," the man said as they came closer.
Aeryn stopped, eyeing him. He seemed oddly familiar to her. And something about the female commando looked strange, tooHer train of thought was broken when K'tren shoved her from behind.
"Here's the trelk, where's the bounty?"
The commando held Aeryn's gaze steadily, "Name and rank!" He snapped, ignoring K'tren.
She answered the command in his voice without thinking, "Officer Aeryn Sun, Special Commando."
The man's gaze flicked to the two standing behind her, "How can we be sure?"
Aeryn felt rather than saw K'tren shrug, "Take her and give us the bounty. That was the deal. There wasn't anything about checking her identity."
The commando said nothing. He looked back at Aeryn and something passed across his features so quickly that she wasn't even sure she saw it. Her spine straightened unconsciously, her shoulders went back and her chin lifted. She wouldn't show weakness now. In a moment she was standing at attention despite the bruises and cuts, despite the cuffed hands and broken ribs.
"Look, if you don't want her, we'll take care of her right now," K'tren snarled. He pressed the pulse pistol to Aeryn's temple.
The commandos raised their weapons.
Aeryn closed her eyes briefly. Die now or let them kill you. It's all the same.
She tore herself from K'tren's grip and ran straight out into the ocean of grass.
Weapons fired around her. Searing heat bit into her right shoulder and she fell, rolling to take the impact, crying out when her ribs ground agonizingly.
There was dirt in her mouth, gritty and oddly sweet. She spat it out and clambered to her feet half stunned. Someone was screaming very loudly.
Instinct took over and she began moving away from the weapons fire again, expecting to be shot any second.
Where's the rest of the Marauder crew? She'd only seen two; there were always five in a crew.
She kept moving, breath coming in little gasps, teeth clenched against the pain of her abused body. The sky stretched overhead like an immense white bowl, curving down to meet the grass far on the horizon. She fixed her gaze on that hazy goal. Move move move move movemovemovemove
Behind her, the pulse blasts petered off. The screaming became gurgling and then silence.
Complete silence. She kept moving.
Something knocked her down from behind and she tripped face first into the grass. Arms wrapped around her as she went down and turned her so her fall was cushioned.
Dazed, she looked down at the male commando laying beneath her. Up close his eyes were a startling shade of steel blue and there were laugh lines around his mouth.
Why would a commando have laugh lines? She thought dizzily.
Then he smiled at her, "Hello, daughter."
TBC
