The Hidden Agenda Chapter One, a farscape fanfic

Chapter One

"Now!" Crais yelled, turning away from the Prowlers that had been his and Morgan's only transportation for a month. He followed Morgan up the slope, his feet sliding in the mud as he scrambled to the top. He reached it just as she hit the button, detonating the ships. He lay on his back staring up through the trees as he slowed his breathing, the Prowlers crackling happily away in the deepest part of the wash. "You had to pick this particular spot, didn't you?" he said, leaning up on one elbow.

Morgan shrugged. "You told me to find someplace safe. You did not specify where." She stood up, unsnapping the collar of her jacket as she shouldered her pack. "I sincerely doubt Scorpius has given up."

Crais stood up, shouldering his own pack. "I concur. We must keep moving. It will be dark soon." He headed down a trail through a dense forest, a tracker in his hand. They walked silently, both wary, listening to the strange sounds of the woodlands. Scorpius had been relentless in his pursuit of them, hounding them from one planet to another as they worked their way through Peacekeeper space. Crais had finally determined that the scientist had been tracking the identities and clearances that had been provided. It had been easy for him to get new ones, shaking Scorpius for the time being and increasing the Captain's unease.

Morgan's first glimpse of Crais' home world had been from space and she was surprised to see a planet very similar to Earth. She didn't know what to expect, but a planet like Earth was not it. The physical similarities ended with the view from space due to the fact that the world her lover came from was mainly agricultural and rural. Very few cities existed, the Sebaceans here preferring small villages. She followed the ex-Peacekeeper down the trail, heading deeper into the forest. The sun was rapidly setting and Crais picked up his pace.

"We are not too far from the break line," he said softly, indicating a gap in the trees. "We will have to be on our guard." He turned and looked at her, scowling slightly as he reached out and snapped the collar of her jacket.

"This thing is choking me," Morgan simply stated. At Crais' urging, she had donned the Peacekeeper Lieutenant's uniform and wished she hadn't. "I thought the uniforms on Earth were uncomfortable."

"It is necessary, Morgan." He spun on one heel and headed for the break. He was amazed that even after being gone for so long he still remembered the forest trails he and his brother used to play on. Crais stopped after walking almost an hour and gazed over the small farming community below them. The valley was verdant, stretching out as far as the eye could see, the fields planted and heavy with fruit, grain and vegetables. He pulled the oculars from his pack, scanning the village. Satisfied, he started down the ridge.

"Bialar, this is beautiful," she said softly.

"It could become deadly. Just remember that," he replied. They moved down the road warily, Morgan dropping behind Crais as they began to encounter some of the villagers. Whispered comments where passed along and soon the word that Peacekeepers were entering the village bypassed them, heralding their arrival. "Remember our plan," he whispered.

They entered the village as the sun set behind the forest ridge, children scurrying around them as if they were heroes home from some war. Crais ignored them, continuing on towards the square. Women and men looked out of doors and windows, staring at them, and it was all Morgan could do to keep her eyes straight ahead. The glimpses of clothing that she caught from the corner of her eyes reminded her of things she had seen on Earth, the men's clothing Arabian in nature, with turbans and bright colors, the women's simple and practical, reminding her of gypsies with their white shirts and crinkly skirts. She raised an eyebrow, trying to imagine her lover dressed that way. A hush came over the village as Crais walked right up to the door to the home of the head of the village elders, pounding on it with his fist.

The door opened slowly, an elderly man peering out at them. His eyes widened as he recognized Crais and he nodded, a soft smile creasing his dark, wrinkly face. He simply pointed and Crais turned, following the man's pointing finger.

Morgan followed him, drawing close to him. "What was that all about?"

Crais glanced behind him. "It is customary to let the village elders know when you have returned from a journey." He glanced at her sideways. "And since finding that reward beacon…I believe it is better for us to have as many allies as possible."

Morgan nodded. "So then if any other Peacekeepers show up…"

Crais smiled at her. "The elders will not turn us in. My father is still a highly respected member of the village council." He stopped at the gate to a large homestead, gazing over it in the dying light. His heart clenched in his chest, the echoes of memories ringing in his ears. He could hear Tauvo's laughter as they chased each other around the out buildings, the smell of his mother's cooking, his own squeals as his father twirled him around.

"Bialar?" Morgan whispered, laying her hand on his arm, breaking his reverie.

"Stay alert, Morgan." He pushed the gate open, waiting for Morgan and walked down the long drive to the house.

Morgan gazed at it, studying the simple stone dwelling. It was definitely two stories tall, a large patio spreading from it beneath a wide awning. Everything was quiet. "This is where you grew up?" Morgan asked quietly.

Crais simply nodded. "It seemed bigger then," he commented.

"Who's there?" a woman's voice called.

Neither of them saw her as she came around the side of the house from the outbuilding. She was a petite woman, somewhere in her sixties, if you went by human standards, with long black hair, tightly braided. She held a cane in one hand and it took Morgan a moment to realize why. She was blind. "You never said anything about your mother being blind," she whispered, tilting her head to look up at him.

Crais smiled softly as he gazed at the woman moving towards them.

"I know someone is there. I heard you talking," Mother snapped. "Identify yourselves."

Crais swallowed, approaching the woman. She came up to his chest and he knelt down in front of her. Morgan watched the expression on his face soften as he took the woman's hands. "It's Bialar, Mother," he answered, his voice cracking with emotion.

"Bialar?" The woman reached out, taking his face in her hands, letting them run over the planes and angles of his features. "Bialar. My Bialar. You have come home."

He nodded as she cradled him against her. "For now," he whispered.

"Freeze, you frelling Peacekeeper trelk!"

Morgan didn't dare move, not with the heavy pulse rifle pressed into the small of her back. A heavy hand fell to her shoulder, pushing her forward towards Crais and his mother. "Bialar, a little help would be nice," she calmly commented.

"Bialar?" The man stopped and he spun Morgan around. "Who are you?"

Morgan found herself staring into a wall of masculine chest and she looked up into the scowl of a strange man she had seen before, a man she had seen in Crais' memories. She looked at her lover, jerking her head towards the man. "I take it this is dad," she said nervously.

Crais moved away from his mother. "Hello Father."

Father stared down at him, lowering the pulse rifle. "Bialar. It is you." He looked at him curiously, eyes narrowed slightly. "Is Tauvo with you?"

Crais and Morgan exchanged glances. This is it, she thought, the moment you've been dreading. He turned back to his Father. "Tauvo is dead. Killed…in the line of duty."

Father looked at Morgan, then back to Crais, his face growing dark with anger. He shoved the pulse rifle into her hands, pushing her back and grabbing Crais by the collar of his jacket, lifting him off the patio floor, growling in the back of his throat. "So then the Peacekeepers did not lie! You were to protect him! How could you let this happen?" Father shook Crais like his was nothing more than a rag doll.

Morgan raised the pulse rifle at Father. "I would greatly appreciate it if you would put him down," she remarked, afraid that Father would kill him.

"You have not seen your son in thirty cycles. Put him down and be civilized. He is the only person who can tell us what happened," Mother demanded, laying her hand on Father's arm. She looked towards Morgan's voice. "Bialar, who is this young woman?" She moved towards Morgan, reaching out, her hand brushing the upraised pulse rifle.

"She…is…my…wife," he managed to choke out. "Father…please."

Father looked at Morgan, who simply cocked her head, her eyebrows raised as she waited for the man to lower her lover. "You are his wife?" Morgan nodded. "Peacekeeper's don't marry, Bialar," he growled.

"Yeah, well, I'm not a Peacekeeper, thank you very much." She raised the rifle a little higher. "Now would you please put him down?"

"If you are not a Peacekeeper, then what are you doing here dressed like one?" Father insisted. He never let his grip waver on his son, still holding him.

Morgan was getting annoyed. She lifted the rifle vertically, her eyes narrowing. Crais knew this was not good. "Father…if…you…would…"

"Shut up, Bialar!" Father snapped.

"Put him the FRELL DOWN!" Morgan yelled, discharging the pulse rifle in the air.

Father dropped Crais, the Captain backing away as he caught his breath. The elder Crais stared at Morgan, watching as his eldest son moved over to her, his chin lifted in defiance. "What are you doing here? Trying to get us killed?" he growled.

"No. We need a place to stay for a few days," Crais answered.

"You are wanted, Bialar. Not only by the Peacekeepers." Father folded his arms, glaring down at them.

Crais glared at him. "So if Tauvo had been with me, then you would have given me a warmer welcome? It would not have mattered that I am wanted? That I was set up?" he retaliated, never raising his voice.

Father's eyes narrowed. "You have disgraced this family!"

Crais stared at his father incredulously. "Why? Because the love I held for my brother overshadowed all of my training?" he asked softly, one eyebrow cocked in question.

Mother turned towards Crais, stepping up to her husband. She knew this day was coming and interrupted. "Were you followed?"

Crais stared at his mother. "We destroyed the Prowlers we arrived in," he answered. "But I do not know if we were followed."

Father sighed, gently taking Mother's arm and leading her into the house. He turned back to look at Crais and Morgan. "Come."

Crais looked at her, swallowing, unsnapping the collar of his own uniform jacket. "That went well." He placed his hand on the small of her back as he followed her into the house.

"How do you figure?" Morgan asked, her mouth dry, her heart racing in her chest.

"I am still alive."

Morgan stepped out of the bathroom, the smells of home cooked food wafting through the house. She heard Crais talking quietly to his mother in the kitchen and she padded down the hall in her bare feet. Her hair was still wet from the shower and she French braided it to keep it out of her face. She leaned in the doorway, in the only other change of clothes she had, Peacekeeper civvies. At least Scorpius had given them that much.

"He is still bitter, Bialar, and he blames you." Mother placed a platter on the table, steam rising off the meat. "He did not want to believe it, but now…"

"Now I confirmed it," Crais finished. He sighed, stroking his goatee.

Mother wiped her hands on the apron around her waist. "It is very dangerous for all of us that you are here, but we will not turn you away. Give him time. He will listen when the initial shock of you being home wears off, especially with a wife." She reached out and took his hand, her fingers running up to his wrist. She could feel the fresh marks of the tattoo that had been placed there only a week earlier. "I see you went with the traditional markings," she commented. She let go of his hand.

Crais noticed Morgan standing in the doorway. "Mother, there is something I need to tell you about my wife."

Morgan shook her head, raising her hands up and waving them, catching sight of the tattooed band around her own wrist. She was not ready for his mother to know that she was not Sebacean. She did not want him to regret the fact that they had married, even though he was the one who insisted on it. Crais simply smiled at her, the smile he reserved only for her, motioning for her to come into the room.

Morgan shifted slightly and Mother turned towards her. "Come here daughter, and let me see you."

Morgan did as she asked, sitting in one of the chairs around the pristine white table. Mother walked over to her, gently laying her hands on her face, 'seeing' the human woman. "Do I pass muster?" she teased gently.

Mother leaned back, laughing. "Sassy aren't you? Well, from what I have heard about my son, you need to be." She laid a hand on Morgan's shoulder. "Yes, you pass muster." She tilted her head. "What did you say her name was, Bialar?"

"I didn't. But it is Morgan. Morgan Langtree Crais." He looked at her, their eyes meeting.

"Morgan. And what color is your hair, Morgan?"

"Brown." She smiled at Crais, her cheeks flushing slightly.

"And your eyes?"

Crais stood up and poured her a drink, handing it to her. "They are blue. Bluer than the skies," he answered, watching the expression on his mother's face brighten.

"What did you need to tell me about her?" Mother asked, laying a hand on Crais' cheek.

They all looked up and fell silent as the door opened, Father stepping into the kitchen. Mother moved away from Morgan, back to the food she was preparing. He looked straight at Morgan. "So, you are not a Peacekeeper. Then what are you doing with my son?"

Crais sighed, sitting back down in his chair. "As I told you before, Father…"

Father slammed his hands on the table, causing all but Crais to jump. "I did not ask you. I asked her."

"Her has a name," Morgan snapped, standing up. She looked at Father in challenge.

"Oh, now you have done it," Crais mumbled to his father. It was hard enough being in his childhood home after so long, let alone having his father and his wife squaring off when they hadn't even been there two arns.

Father stood up straight, his head almost touching the ceiling. "And that name would be?"

"Morgan. Morgan Langtree Crais. I met your son a little over a cycle ago and we have been traveling together ever since." She planted her hands on her hips.

Father looked at his son. "Is this true?"

Crais simply nodded, hooking one arm over the back of the chair.

Father noticed the tattoo and looked at his son. He turned back to Morgan. "And you are his wife?" Mother dropped the pan she had been holding at Father's question.

"Damn right." Her eyes were flashing in annoyance. "Does that bother you?"

Father sat down in the chair across from Morgan. He motioned for her to sit, but Morgan just shook her head and walked over to Mother, bending down to help the woman clean the mess. He looked at Crais, grabbing his wrist, inspecting the marking. "At least they didn't destroy everything we gave you. You seem to still have your sense of tradition." Father didn't see the look Morgan tossed Crais' way, her eyebrows raised. "I…am happy to see you son," he finally admitted as Mother put the rest of the food on the table. Father looked at Morgan, studying her as he ate. "What are those?" he asked, pointing to Crais' transponder with his fork. "I see you both have them."

Crais put his glass down. "They are cybernetic neural transponders." He looked at his father, letting the Peacekeeper attitude that always surfaced when he was around people take over. "They allow Morgan and I to…communicate with our ship."

Mother lowered her fork, her head tilted slightly to the side as she gazed towards his voice. "What type of ship, Bialar?"

Crais exchanged a glance with Morgan. "He is a hybrid Leviathan. A gunship that is named Talyn."

Father stared at Morgan. "Did you help breed this ship?"

"I met Morgan well after Talyn and I had been joined," Crais responded. "She voluntarily joined with us."

Mother turned to stare blindly in Morgan's direction. "What planet are you from Morgan?"

Morgan looked at Crais and then at his father, a wicked smile crossing her lips. Why not, she thought, he's already pissed at his son, let's add a little fuel to the fire and see just how much help we'll get. Besides, he planned on telling Mother anyway. "I'm from a planet called Earth. I followed my cousin John Crichton through a worm hole in an attempt to rescue him and I was saved by Bialar when my ship power downed and I passed out," she said sweetly.

Father stared at her. "Then you are not Sebacean." It was a statement, not a question. "You married an alien." He glared at Crais. "You better hope the Peacekeepers don't find you here," he growled, pushing away from the table. He grabbed a jacket from a hook by the door. "For I will not hide you." Father shot Morgan a glance. "Now that know what you have done to dishonor yourself." Without a look back, Father stormed out of the house.

Crais looked up, taking a deep breath. "You don't know the half of it." He gazed at Morgan and stood. "Mother, I think it would be…best if Morgan and I remain in the village."

Mother stood up and pointed at Crais. "You will do no such thing. This is my house as well and he will just have to get over it." She turned away, shuffling out of the room.

Morgan looked up at Crais. "Don't ask me to apologize because I won't."

Crais smiled softly at her. "You have done nothing wrong." He took her hand, drawing her away from the table and into his arms. "I would have been disappointed if you had not defended yourself." He leaned down, kissing her, wrapping his arms tightly around her as he pulled Morgan against him. "My father will not chase me from my home," he whispered against her lips.

Mother stood just outside the doorway and listened, wiping her eyes. Her son was home, with a woman she could tell he loved by the tone of voice he used with her, and she was happy. What could go wrong, she wondered.

The village had an open market, filled with tantalizing scents and an assortment of stalls that caught ones eye; a place a person could get anything that could be transported in. Since they needed clothes, Crais decided it would be best for them to leave the homestead early the next morning and they made their way up the road.

"How many days do you think it will take Scorpius to figure out where we are?" Morgan asked him as they walked. She had gathered up a handful of rocks and was tossing them down the road as they went.

Crais looked around, surveying the landscape. "Two. Possibly three."

She stopped, staring at him. "Give. What's the matter with you?" She turned slightly, pointing back at the house. "You really think your father would turn us in?"

Crais stopped and sighed. "I will…admit that maybe coming here was not the wisest choice."

Morgan approached him, pointing at him. "You're beginning to scare me. You mean you are actually admitting that you were…wrong?"

His face grew hard and he pulled Morgan to the side of the road, pinning her against a tree. "My prime concern at this time is keeping you safe and finding Talyn. In case you have forgotten, you are still carrying the formula in your head." Crais looked at her, teeth clenched. "I thought…that maybe for one instant…that my father would listen and help. I find that I was wrong," he hissed. "Do not try me Morgan. I am not a good mood."

"Could have fooled me." She grasped his jacket as he started to turn away, pulling him back against me. "Hey, buddy, we are in this together. So cut the Peacekeeper crap with me."

Crais stared at her and then wryly chuckled. "You a brave woman, Morgan."

They started back down the road. "No, just slightly insane." She could smell the food from the market and her stomach growled. "What's our next move?"

Crais studied her profile. "Can you modify the transponders so that we can monitor any long range frequencies Talyn would be most likely to use?"

"I could try."

They continued into the village market, forgetting about the Peacekeepers and Scorpius, if only for a little while as they found clothing and other interesting items for sale or barter. The one thing they didn't notice was that they were being watched.

The stranger turned away as he lost them in the crowd, moving quickly into a refreshment house across the way. He moved through the back corridor and slid his hand over the panel. The wall slid up and he disappeared down a flight of steps that led deep into the ground. He stepped into a conference room and waited.

The man behind the desk turned and looked at him. "Well?"

"It is definitely them, Commander. Captain Crais and the human woman Morgan Langtree."

The Commander nodded, his brown eyes glinting in the light. From a door not far from his desk a man appeared. He looked at the first man. "You are dismissed." The two men waited until the informant left, the door closing behind him. "Well, Shantar, see if you can convince them to come and speak with me."

Shantar leaned on the desk. "Are you sure this will work? I mean convincing Crichton and Aeryn to help us was hard enough. You know as well as I do that Crais is as stubborn as a mule."

"I am hoping his new wife will help with that," the Commander replied, looking up at Shantar.

Shantar laughed. "You are deluding yourself. She's actually worse than Bialar." He shook his head as he exited the room. "Crais knows that I bear him no ill will. I'll talk to them and then arrange a meeting." Shantar turned and continued on his way.

The Commander tapped his thumb against his lips. "A very interesting meeting."

He saw the retrieval squad as soon as he spotted Morgan. Shantar slipped up behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Hello Morgan. Don't move."

Morgan recognized Shantar's voice. "What are you doing here?" she whispered. "And why can't I move?" She saw them out of the corner of her eye. Five Peacekeepers moved past the stall she was standing at, slipping down an alley towards another part of the bazaar. "Never mind."

Shantar let her go, turning her to face him. "They landed about an arn after you and Crais did." He looked over the sea of people in the bazaar. "Where is Bialar?"

"Right here," Crais answered, his pulse pistol in the small of Shantar's back. "What are you doing here, Shantar?" he asked quietly.

Shantar turned and looked at Crais. "Looking for the two of you."

"Really?" Crais holstered the pulse pistol. "Why?"

Shantar heard the stomp-stomp of boots. "This is not the place to discuss this." He took Morgan's arm, pulling her the opposite direction of the Peacekeepers, Crais right behind them. The three of them quickly entered the refreshment house. Shantar never said a word as he ushered them into the hidden corridor and down the stairs into the secret complex.

"Shantar, what is going on?" Crais asked uneasily. He could not explain the sudden gnawing at his gut and wondered if this sensation was what Morgan and Crichton referred to as rattlers.

The ex-Peacekeeper stopped in the corridor and looked at them. "Do you remember me saying I had a proposition for you, but we never had the opportunity to discuss it due to Torsin's arrival?"

Crais' face darkened, his eyes narrowing. "Yes."

"Well, I've been tracking your whereabouts since you left Zorosa 3." He tilted his head, gazing at Crais who had taken a defensive stance.

"Why?" Morgan asked.

Shantar swallowed. "I have been working a group of individuals who are trying to wrong a right."

"What does this have to do with Morgan and I?" Crais snapped. His patience was wearing thin.

"Just come with me and listen. The leader of our organization wants to speak with you." Shantar started up the corridor, stopping and looking at them when they didn't follow. "Bialar, I'm not going to turn you in. I've had my chances. And if I were to report you to the Peacekeepers now, everything we have worked for will be lost."

Crais raised his eyebrows and slowly followed the older man. Shantar opened the door at the end of the corridor and Crais stopped, his face draining of all color.

"Crais?" Morgan looked at him. "What's the matter?"

Crais shook his head, tilting it as he listened. There was a man speaking in that room and he knew that voice. Knew it only too well. He started walking again, entering the room, Morgan behind him.

The room was decorated in bright reddish wood, a huge command console desk taking up the center of the room. Shantar stood to one side of a large chair behind the desk, it's back to them. He nodded towards Crais and Morgan and the chair turned, the man standing to look at Crais and Morgan.

"No," Crais hissed softly.

The man smiled. His was dressed in civilian clothing, but the rank of Commander was clearly marked on his shirt.

Morgan stared at her husband, then back to the man. "Oh my god," she whispered.

The man moved around the desk, clasping his hands on Crais' shoulders. "I see Captains' bars still suit you, my brother, although I know it is a different type of ship you are the Captain of."