Chapter Five
Talyn was quiet. Maybe a little too quiet. The corridors of the Leviathan gunship were empty, it's Captain noticeably missing from the bridge. They had barely made it off the Gammack base with the two surviving prisoners, the gunship picking off the Prowlers that launched after the marauder in pursuit, scooping them up and star bursting as High Command's ships entered the sector. That had been three solar days earlier and Talyn orbited Zorosa 3, surrounded by the remainder of Tauvo's resistance fleet. They had only lost three ships in the escape, three ships that had taken four of the Peacekeeper's command group with them as they exploded in space in a brilliant fury of fire. But those three ships were nothing compared to the price they had paid in losing Aeryn and Tauvo to the Peacekeepers. And Morgan's death.
Crais stood at the viewport in his quarters, watching the small patrol ships weave in and out of the armada. The transponder lay on the console behind him. He couldn't face Talyn's endless battery of questions and left the confused ship in the care of Crichton, retreating to his quarters as soon as they were safe. Where he had remained ever since.
Crais picked up the bottle of raslak from the bedside stand, taking a deep draught of the alcohol. It had taken three bottles to finally face the events that took place in the detention area of the Gammack base. He replayed the scene in his mind, over and over, licking his lips as he breathed in. Morgan should've gone first; he should never have let her remain at the rear. Tauvo and Aeryn were trained to fight. Morgan wasn't. The last glimpse he had had of his wife, his brother and Aeryn before Crichton and Leris dragged him away was that of Aeryn bending over Morgan's prone body, Tauvo dropping the pulse rifle, his hands up in surrender. Once again he had failed them. He held the bottle against his forehead, the glass cool as he swallowed past the dryness in his throat.
He turned and looked around. Morgan was everywhere in his quarters, their quarters. The one thing that had finally made everything he had suffered through since meeting Crichton worth it was gone and he honestly didn't know how he was going to go on. Slowly, Crais walked over to the shelf above his desk, reaching out and picking up a bright blue rock from the very first planet he had taken her to. She had brought back a memento from every planet she had visited, lining them up on the shelf, the planets name neatly written in both English and Sebacean on a tag in front of it. He took a gulp of raslak, sitting down in the chair behind him, staring at the rock, his eyes closing as he remembered….
Crais looked at Morgan as she ran back from the water's edge, her legs wet from the ocean's gentle wave. He leaned on one arm, sprawled out on the blanket she had spread, simply enjoying watching her, studying the human woman who had risked her life to save him from the Scarrens and remain with him. The woman he was falling in love with.
"Check this rock out," Morgan commented, handing it to him. "I have never seen anything so beautiful."
"Not even on your on home world?" he asked, turning the rock in his hand, studying it. He looked up at her questioningly.
"Nope." Morgan lay down on the blanket next to him, watching the sun of a strange world set over the ocean. She gazed at Crais. "Do you know what it is?"
He smiled slightly. "No. But Zhaan probably does. You will have to ask her when we meet with them again." He handed the rock back to her, his fingers lingering on her hand.
Morgan smiled back, closing her fingers over his. "You Sebaceans aren't very romantic, you are?" she teased.
Crais' eyebrows flew up. "Romantic? Now you want me to be romantic?" he asked incredulously. "I suppose you will want me to start saying impractical things that state the obvious."
Morgan laughed at his expression. "No. But it'd be nice to hear three little words more often," she answered, playfully pushing him.
Crais stared down at the rock in his hand. "I love you," he whispered. He returned the rock to the shelf, gazing at the other items laying there, his eyes falling to an ornate bracelet he had bought her on the day he asked her to marry him. He picked it up, taking another gulp of the raslak sitting back down in the chair. He rubbed his thumb over the black jewel, leaning his head back, closing his eyes, the memories flooding back…
Crais walked into the room they had secured on the commerce planet, looking for Morgan. The weather had changed, growing warm and humid, a soft rain falling from the sky. The curtains billowed, revealing her sitting on the balcony, her hair wet against her head as the rain fell. Crais felt his groin tighten as he moved closer to her, her white dress clinging to her, revealing the curves of her body. "Morgan," he said softly.
She turned and looked up at him, rising from the chair she was sitting in. She walked over to him, leaning up and kissing him without saying a word as she slowly undid his jacket, her hands like brands against him as she pushed it off his shoulders. Slowly, Morgan slid her hands beneath his shirt, pushing him back against the wall as thunder rolled across the sky. She unsnapped the button on his pants, easing her hand inside to gently cup him as she kissed him again, their mouths wordlessly vying for dominance.
Crais turned her, taking control as he picked her up, their bodies slick with sweat in the hot air. He slid his own hands up her body, pulling the gauzy dress with it as he lifted her, pinning her between himself and the wall as he kissed her neck, shifting to free himself and entering her, slowly moving his hips as he made love to Morgan, his need growing, both of their bodies shaking in passion, release growing closer, her hands clenched in his hair, his own hands holding onto her tightly as he rocked, taking her, needing her, fighting the release they both desparately wanted, trying to prolong the moment…
The bottle of raslak shattered in his hand, the shards of glass splintering, cutting him. A drop of water fell on the bracelet, then another, slipping down his cheeks as his grief finally came out. He slipped out of the chair, to his knees, dropping the bracelet as he drove his fists to his eyes, his mouth opening in a silent scream as his body shuddered with wracking sobs. He leaned over, his forehead resting on Talyn's deck, pounding it with his bloody fist as anger welled up inside him, anger at himself for not protecting her, anger at Morgan for hanging back in the corridor, anger at everything that existed in the galaxy.
"Why Morgan? Damn you why? Why did you have to lag behind? How can you do this to me?" he cried, sitting back up, his face haggard and worn with three days worth of stubble and the tears that coursed freely down his cheeks. "Why?" he screamed. In a fit of rage, Crais stood, grasping a hold of the shelf his data chips sat on, wiping his arm across them, the chips scattering. He grabbed a fresh bottle of raslak, taking another drink, sliding on the chips as he moved towards the shelf of Morgan's CD's, wiping them out as he went around the room, throwing items, smashing bottles in his grief. "I need you and now you're gone!" he screamed. By the time his anger was spent, the only thing he hadn't touched was the shelf of mementos. Crais slid on a pile of data chips, losing his balance and falling in a heap on the floor, landing on the blankets he had jerked off the bed. He turned his face into the comforter, breathing in Morgan's soft scent that lingered there, the bottle of raslak forgotten. "I'm sorry Morgan. I am so sorry," he sobbed, his tears staining the blanket as he slipped into a fitful alcohol and grief induced sleep.
Captain Raseen strode down the corridor, her eyes set in determination. Damn Crais, she thought as she marched back into the detention block, slapping the console. The door slid open and she glared at the three prisoners before her. "Well, at least I will be compensated for the three of you. You're worth more to me anyway."
Aeryn gazed up at her, rising slowly, moving to stand in front of Morgan. "You'll never have the satisfaction of turning us into High Command," she snarled, fists clenched at her sides.
Morgan slowly eased her way up the wall, Tauvo's hand steadying her. Her left shoulder hurt where the pulse blast had caught her, the skin around the wound red and blistering. She was lucky she had turned when she did, the laser bolt glancing off her shoulder. Otherwise, she would've been dead. Her eyes narrowed in fury.
"Oh, I believe I will. The only way you will leave this base alive is in chains." She moved towards Tauvo. "You thought you could get away with it, didn't you Tauvo? We have been after the leaders of the resistance for two cycles now. I shouldn't be surprised that you and your brother are involved. The inquisitors will find out exactly who the rest of your little dissidents are." Raseen looked at Morgan, pushing Aeryn aside as she moved past, the guard that had entered the cellblock training his pulse rifle on the ex-Peacekeeper. "I also know that where John Crichton is, his darling cousin Morgan and his Sebacean lover Officer Sun is not far behind. I almost didn't recognize him with that blonde hair." She chuckled wryly. "And soon I will have Bialar and the others. I'm sure I can reform him. Who knows? I might even be able to have the irreversible contamination charge dropped, assuming he is willing to remain here with me," she commented, provoking Morgan.
Tauvo took one look at his sister-in-law, noticing the expression on her face. "Morgan," he warned softly. "Now is not the time."
The human woman ignored him, a feral snarl escaping her throat as she lunged forward. It took everything Aeryn and Tauvo had to pull her back, dragging her away from Raseen. "You keep your filthy hands off my husband!" Morgan snarled, struggling against Aeryn and Tauvo.
Raseen's eyebrows rose. "How interesting. How interesting indeed. High Command will be more than satisfied with the three of you." Her eyes narrowed at the human woman. "And I know Scorpius will give me extra compensation for capturing you." She turned on one heel, the guard following. "Prepare them for transport to the carrier. I will deliver them to High Command myself."
Crichton stepped into Crais' quarters, looking around, his eyes wide at the destruction that littered the room. He raised his hand to his mouth, propping his elbow on his other arm, wondering where exactly Crais was. Shantar had contacted Crichton a few microts earlier with the news that Raseen was transporting three prisoners back to High Command. Two of them were ex-Peacekeepers, the third unknown. It was the small glimmer of hope he needed to get his butt in gear. He had left Crais alone, knowing that he could never convince him that Morgan was still alive. Crichton and Leris had talked enough over the last three days to know that Raseen wouldn't kill Aeryn and Tauvo. She wanted the information on the resistance movement. It was her ticket to a hefty promotion. And he never gave up hope that his cousin survived. Morgan didn't give up on him; he was not about to give up on her.
"Hey Bialar!" Crichton stepped further into the room, taking care of where he walked. "Crais!" He bent down, picking up the picture Kira had sent of all of them, brushing the dust and debris from the frame, surprised it wasn't broken. Crichton set the picture on the desk, sighing. "Hey Crais!" he called again in annoyance.
"Go…away."
Crichton moved towards the alcove to the right of the bed, stepping over the spilled data chips and scattered CD's. He found the Captain slumped on the deck in the farthest corner of his quarters. He reeked of raslak, his hair unbound and matted, his clothes dirty and caked with blood. The man sitting in the corner was not the insane Peacekeeper Captain that had hounded him relentlessly for an entire cycle. "Jesus, Crais," Crichton swore. He bent over, grabbing Crais by the shirt and hauling him to his feet, setting him in the chair to his right. Crichton tapped his comm badge. "Hey Leris."
"Go ahead Crichton." Leris paused. "What's the matter?"
Crichton gazed down at Crais, shaking his head. This was the last thing he needed. "In Talyn's mess area there is a funky looking machine on the counter. Follow the directions taped to the top of it for me. One of the DRD's can show you where the stuff you'll need is."
"What do you want me to do with it when it's done?"
Crichton rubbed his eyes. "Bring the pot and a mug to Crais' quarters." He tapped the badge, ending the discussion. He knelt in front of Crais, rubbing his chin with the back of his hand as he studied him. "What are you doing, Crais?" he asked softly.
"Leave me alone, Crichton," Crais answered in defeat. He leaned his head on his hand, covering his eyes as he propped his arm on the table.
"No can do, chief smoke," Crichton commented, standing up. He knocked the half-empty bottle of raslak away from Crais' searching hand. "I need you, man."
Crais looked up at him, his brown eyes bloodshot and haunted over a pale face full of stubble. "Go back to Earth, Crichton. They're gone."
Anger swelled in the human and grabbed Crais, dragging him out of the chair and shaking him, getting in the ex-Peacekeeper's face. "Damn you, Crais! Aeryn and Tauvo are still alive and on their way to Peacekeeper High Command. Or does that not even matter to you?" He heard Leris enter, but never moved. "You planning on tucking tail and running, just you like you did before?"
Any other time, Crais would've belted Crichton for a comment like that. Now, he was too exhausted, too distraught to care. "She's dead, Crichton. And there is nothing we can do for Aeryn and Tauvo."
Crichton backed away, staring at the pathetic Sebacean before him, dropping him back into the chair. "So you're just going to let them win," he stated. "You know, you're not the only one hurting here, you selfish bastard! You don't know she's dead!" Crichton saw the transponder lying on the floor and he picked it up, throwing it at Crais. "You haven't even tried to pick up her signal!" He ran a hand through his hair, tears starting to spill down his own cheeks. "And what about Aeryn? You've been after her hot and heavy until Morgan came along and now you're just going to let her die? She's the only person who ever retained any faith in your sorry ass since I came here!"
Crais stared up at Crichton. "What do you want from me John?" he asked faintly.
Crichton looked at him. "What do I want from you?" He pointed to himself. "I want Aeryn back! I want my cousin back and if I can't have that, then I want proof that Morgan is dead."
Crais stood up slowly, gripping the table as his knees tried to buckle out from under him. "No one can take a pulse blast like that and live. Even you know that," he whispered.
Crichton stared at him in shock. He could not believe Crais would give up that easily. "You know what, Crais? You're a frelling asshole! If you really loved my cousin, you'd straighten yourself up, find that…" he paused, trying to control his rage, "…arrogant Peacekeeper attitude you try to hide and help me!" He pushed Crais, knocking him back into the chair, leaning forward so that denches separated them. "If you won't do it for me, then do it for Morgan. She didn't give up on you. Don't you frelling dare give up on her, you sorry piece of dren!" Crichton turned and stalked out before he gave in to the temptation to beat Crais senseless.
Crais stared across the room, watching as the doors closed, the raslak-induced haze slowly starting to clear. He stood back up, carefully staggering to his desk, watching the steam rise off the coffee. The picture stared back at him, Morgan's arm wrapped around him, a smile on her face, her hair rustling in the terran breeze. Crais looked down at the transponder in his hand and hesitantly popped it into the cradle at the base of his neck. The gunship immediately bombarded him with questions. "Later Talyn," Crais whispered. "Just show me Crichton." He closed his eyes, Talyn doing as he asked. He found the human standing in his quarters, holding one of Aeryn's shirts to his face as he cried, his shoulders shaking with his sobs. Crais turned his head as if looking away, cutting the feed and removing the transponder. With shaking hands, he poured himself a cup of coffee, grimacing as he swallowed. He peered around the room at the mess he made. Slowly, his head and heart aching, Crais picked up his wife's CD's, stacking them on the shelf, Crichton's words still ringing in his ears. She didn't give up on you. Don't you frelling dare give up on her. He paused for a moment, a small black box catching his eye from amidst the shambles at his feet. Crais knelt, leaning back on his haunches as he retrieved the box and opened it, tears immediately welling up in his dark eyes.
Morgan's parents' wedding bands shined in their velvet bed, glaring up at him as he rubbed a hand over his face. They had agreed to remove them for the mission, planning on returning them to their fingers when they returned. Crais stood up, moving back to his desk, setting the box next to the picture, staring at them. His fingers brushed the console, opening the manual comm channel to the Leviathan. "Talyn, initiate a wideband scan for Morgan's signal," he said, his voice cracking. He closed the comm and removed the gold band that fit his finger from the box, sliding it on his left hand. He removed his ruined shirt, wadding it up in a ball and tossing it in the refuse recycler, his resolve building each microt as removed the chain with Morgan's Celtic knot from around his neck. She had insisted he wear it, a token of her love. Carefully, his hands steadier than before, Crais slid Morgan's wedding bang on the chain, replacing it around his neck.
She didn't give up on you. Don't you frelling dare give up on her.
Crais licked his lips as he poured more coffee in the mug. He carefully moved around the room, trying to straighten up the chaos.
…find that arrogant Peacekeeper attitude…
He moved towards the bathroom, noticing for the first time the cuts that littered the back of his right, not knowing how they got there. Crais looked at himself in the mirror and knew one thing: Crichton was right. The human was going to need his help saving Aeryn and Tauvo.
And finding Morgan.
Tauvo leaned against the bulkhead, arms crossed, head tilted, watching through the bars of his cell as Aeryn tried to jimmy the lock in the cell she was in across from him. He glanced down the corridor, watching for the guards. He returned his gaze to Aeryn. "When did you become proficient at tech work?" he asked casually, raising one eyebrow.
Aeryn looked up at him. "About two monens after your brother declared me irreversibly contaminated and started chasing Crichton." She returned her attention to the lock, jerking her hand back as she cut her finger on the sharp wires she had managed to expose. "Frell," she hissed, sucking her finger. She had been trying to get the cell open since they were brought aboard the command carrier the day before. She looked up at Tauvo. He was staring at Morgan in the cell next to hers, his brow drawn down in concern. "Is she alright?"
Tauvo nodded, moving to the other side of his cell. "She's asleep," he said softly. "I don't like the way her shoulder looks," he commented.
Aeryn moved forward to lean against the bulkhead across from him. "Is it still so red?"
Tauvo nodded. "I have to give her credit. She has never complained about it hurting." He shifted slightly, resting his weight on the other foot. "Morgan still has one hand wrapped around the transponder."
Aeryn sighed, leaning her head back. "Raseen's probably hoping Crais will come after us. I suspect that's why she let her keep it."
Tauvo nodded in agreement. "Knowing my brother, he will come after us." He smiled. "With Crichton in tow."
"Assuming John hasn't killed him yet." Aeryn slid down the wall, sitting on the deck, her arms propped on her drawn up knees. "You do realize that as soon as the inquisitors are done with us, we'll be facing an extermination squad."
Tauvo knelt down, lowering his voice. "Aeryn, we have to get out of here. If Bialar and Crichton don't come after us, none of us have a chance." He looked over at Morgan's sleeping form. "And Scorpius won't hesitate to kill her once he gets the wormhole formula."
Aeryn rolled her head against the wall to look at him. "The only chance we'll have to escape is when they take us to the surface."
Tauvo nodded. "Tadace will be waiting. Hopefully Shantar has already contacted him."
Aeryn's eyes narrowed slightly as she slowly smiled. "You have a back-up plan," she simply stated, her smile growing larger.
Tauvo nodded, smiling back. "Of course I do. Have you ever known Bialar or I not to have one?" The door at the end of the cellblock slid open and he stepped back, winking at Aeryn.
Crichton shook his head, staring at the clamshell. "Shantar, I'm not going risk it. A prowler will be enough to get me in. I'll worry about how I'm gonna get out later."
"That will not be necessary."
Crichton turned slowly, standing up and staring, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I guess I said something that got through that thick skull of yours," he replied. He turned back to the clamshell. "Hey, I'll call you back." He severed the communication, crossing his arms as he faced Crais.
The Captain walked over to Crichton, his uniform crisp and clean, the jacket open more than what would be proper for a Peacekeeper. The stubble was gone, his hair neatly slicked back in its queue. His eyes met Crichton's, locking with the human's. Crais reached out his hand. "You were right. And you…you will not do this alone."
Crichton looked at Crais' hand, then back to the Captain, clasping his hand. Crais surprised him when he took Crichton's lower arm instead, clasping him close to the elbow as if they were brothers.
"I realize we may never be…friends," Crais stated, watching the expression on Crichton's face. "But we are family. And family, no matter how much we may fight…and argue amongst ourselves…stands behind one another."
The two men looked at each other for a moment, both contemplating how far they had come over the last few cycles. Crichton still didn't trust Crais completely, although he was beginning to respect the ex-Peacekeeper thanks to Morgan. And Crais studied Crichton, the strange human who turned his neat, little world upside down. He was finding Crichton to be more than a formidable ally, smarter than he had ever given him credit for.
Crichton was the first to speak. "So, are we going to kiss and dance or go find the others?"
Crais shook his head. "I will save my kisses for Morgan." He moved away from Crichton, tapping a side console and leaning both hands on it as a three-dimensional display of High Command appeared. Crichton stepped up next to Crais as he pointed. "This is where Raseen will take them. Since Tauvo has information on the resistance, the inquisitors will want to interrogate him, as well as Aeryn."
"What about Morgan?"
Crais looked up the Commander. "If Morgan is still alive, and Scorpius has received word from Raseen, then she'll be turned over to him."
Crichton rubbed his chin. "Which means he'll get the wormhole formula."
"And kill Morgan." Crais stood up, changing the image. "It is a five day trip to High Command. Once there, we will make contact with Tadace and infiltrate the council complex here." He pointed to a row of barracks. "This is where they'll keep them. There is a maintenance shaft leading up into the detention area."
Crichton leaned a hip against the console, facing Crais. "Raseen and the carrier group has two days head start on us. There's no way we can get there in time." He crossed his arms.
Crais clasped his hands behind his back, walking to the center of Talyn's bridge. "We will arrive before them."
Crichton's eyebrows rose. "Really? How?" he asked in curiosity.
Crais looked away momentarily. "Talyn's starburst system is superior to any command carrier the Peacekeepers have. I made sure when I bred him that it was…enhanced," he replied, a smug smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "We will arrive a day and a half before them."
Crichton shook his head. "You son of a bitch. You had a trump card all this time." He ran a hand through his hair, the other hand propped on his hip. "Okay. So who are we taking with us? We need some sort of strike team." He felt Talyn shudder slightly as the Leviathan banked away from the armada. "Crais?"
Crais looked at the system's console as Talyn slipped into starburst. He turned and looked at Crichton. "You and I are the strike team. I already told Shantar that if we did not return in no more than two weekens, to presume us dead and continue on."
The human's eyes widened. "You and I? That's it? Just the two of us?"
Crais tilted his head slightly. "What is the matter Crichton? The fewer people trying to infiltrate the complex, the less chance of discovery."
"Yeah, but that means I have to trust you," Crichton commented.
"And I you. But, for once, we are united in a common goal." Crais stepped up to him. "You wanted my help. And I need yours."
Crichton nodded, holding up his hands. "Okay. Okay. You've made your point." He looked towards the viewport. "Let's try not to frell it up this time."
Crais' eyes narrowed in determination. "I intend to go in and rescue my brother, Aeryn Sun and my wife." He paused, lifting his chin, his jaw locking. "Or die trying."