Chapter Fifteen: Making
Plans…
Chiana
managed to sneak quietly into the hangar bay and found that everything was
silent and still, including all the DRDs in sight. Apparently, Pilot wasn't able
to maintain the ship, but he still had to be alive. If he weren't, Moya would be
panicking by now over the lack of his presence and control.
That was one
thing in their favor. Another was that no enemy soldiers were hanging about
here. The Nebari moved deeper into the launch bay, hiding behind crates and
tables as she went. At one work table she stopped when she eyed a large box on
it that had D'Argo's Qualta Blade hilt sticking out of it.
What do we have here? Chiana smiled, glancing about to make sure the area was
clear, then she peeked inside. It was filled with everyone's personal weapons,
John's pulse pistol Winona, D'Argo sword and Sheba's huge blaster.
She
reached in and fished out Sheba's weapon, holster, and belt. She ducked down and
strapped it about her waist before drawing the pistol. It was a heavy weapon and
it looked primitive and awkward to use, but Rygel had told her when he inspected
Sheba's Viper. The Hynerian discovered that her people, technology wise was as
good or even better than Peacekeeper technology. Using Sheba's weapon might
provide an element of surprise when she made her move.
Chiana admired the
blaster weapon for a few more moments. It was a big pistol and she wondered why
Sheba would need such a powerful weapon? They must have serious enemies where
she came from.
Slinging the pulse rifle over her shoulder Chiana moved
closer to Aeryn's Prowler. If she could contact Crais he could bring back Talyn
much sooner to assist them. She never would had dreamed that she'll be calling
him for help. Just goes to show how twisted the universe can
be.
Something moved up behind her and Chiana spun about levelling Sheba's
large blaster and almost shot a DRD. Its tiny sensor eyes were looking up at
her. Chiana was surprised, considering every DRD she'd seen so far was
deactivated due to lack of direction from Pilot.
Chiana leaned down to
the little robot, whispering. "Pilot? Are you in there?"
The tiny machine
beep quietly and moved in closer, moving side to side as if to say
no.
The Nebari stared at it for a moment, if Pilot was not directing this
then it had to be...
"Moya? Is that you!"
The DRD raised its
antenna like eyes, beeping in acknowledgement.
Chiana grinned from ear to
ear, the only one who can direct the DRDs besides Pilot is Moya. She reached
down and hugged the little machine.
"I'm glad to see you!" Chiana
whispered gratefully. "I'm going to try and contact Crais and your son Talyn,
can you help?"
The DRD under Moya's direction, beeped and extended every
single tool it had. She was going to help.
"Good," Chiana picked up the
little DRD. "I'm going for Aeryn's Prowler to see if we can contact them. Maybe
with your help we won't get detected when we start broadcasting."
With
the DRD under one arm, Chiana hurried over to Aeryn's Prowler and climbed
inside. Everything now depended on the lone Nebari and a single DRD under
control of the Leviathan.
***
This was it!
No
more!
From this point on, D'Argo vowed to never be taken prisoner
again.
The Luxan warrior paced angrily about his cell and, after a bit,
checked the cell door to see if he could muscle it open. After a few
experimental pulls and pushes with all his might, he slammed his fists about the
heavy metal bars in frustration.
Then he looked at the only bright side,
he might have had Rygel for a cellmate.
After cooling down, he glanced
across to John's cell. "How is she Crichton?"
He couldn't see John and
Aeryn, but the Human answered back with hope in his voice. "Better. Her skin is
looking even more pinkish than it did since last you asked... five minutes
ago"
D'Argo nodded in relief, Aeryn's slow recovery was the only other
good thing happening.
Jool shouted down to them from her cell with Rygel.
"Someone is coming!"
A few moments later, four Jaffa soldiers marched
down the corridor. Two of them were dragging an unconscious Sheba between them,
her arms were still tightly bonded.
Jool and Rygel watched silently,
trying to see any sign of life in the Colonial Warrior as the Jaffa moved by
their cell dragging their limp burden. John left Aeryn's side for a moment to
look as they approached D'Argo's cell. The Luxan warrior was too enraged at the
condition of Sheba to say anything beyond growling at her captors.
One
Jaffa, a huge bearded man with a golden symbol stamp on his forehead, leading
the others stepped forward, addressing D'Argo in a commanding tone. "Step away
from the cell door."
D'Argo glared at the Jaffa First Prime, imagining
how may different injuries he could inflict, without actually killing him.
Slowly, still looking at Sheba and the Luxan warrior backed away from the cell
door. Now wasn't the time for an rash moves.
With his staff weapon armed,
the First Prime opened the cell door, and stepped inside... keeping his weapon
trained on D'Argo. The two Jaffa holding Sheba dragged her inside, dropping her
unceremoniously on the floor and turned, leaving the cell.
Seeing the
naked hatred in D'Argo's eyes, the First Prime smiled, taunting the Luxan,
trying to goad him into doing something rash, but D'Argo refused to
bite.
"I am patient," The Luxan said with studied deliberation, but with
utter hatred remaining in his eyes. "Your time will come. If not by my hand,
then by another."
"Mere words, creature." The Jaffa leader spat, before
backing out of the cell, as the doors slid shut once more.
The Jaffa
warriors left, marching away down the corridor, and D'Argo stepped quickly to
Sheba's side. He knelt down, untying her bonds, freeing her, then he gently
turned her over. The small Human female looked in rough shape. Although he could
not find any physical injuries, her flesh was extremely warm and
sweaty.
"Is she alright?" John called from his cell.
D'Argo nodded
as he felt her pulse. It was still strong. "Yes, she will live. Take care of
Aeryn. I will tend to Sheba."
Carefully, D'Argo placed a hand under her
head to get it up off the hard floor. Sheba suddenly stirred, holding her hands
up defensively.
"No," D'Argo said softly. "You are with friends
now."
Sheba eyes finally focused on the Luxan warrior before relaxing.
"D'Argo... Where are the Goa'uld?"
"The aliens? Gone. They brought you to
my cell. John and the others are here but they are in separate cells." He then
leaned down and whispered. "Where's Chiana?"
Sheba shook her head. "I
don't know."
Slowly, Sheba tried to sit up, but felt dizzy, then winced
in pain and immediately laid back down. D'Argo placed a hand on her arm. "Just
rest, Sheba and regain your strength. When we get a chance for freedom, we must
be ready."
"No," Sheba whispered. "They're going to kill us or make us
beg for death before we get the opportunity to get out."
"Sheba, as long
we draw breath there is a chance for..."
"Filter carb!" Sheba snapped.
"I've seen their leader and I looked into his eyes. They look Human but they're
not. Something is not right about them. They're truly evil, D'Argo."
The
Luxan warrior listened, and he believed her. Sheba reached down and grasped his
hand that was on her arm.
She looked at him with pleading eyes. "If they
come for me again, you must promise not to let them take me alive. They wanted
to know about my fleet and they came closer to breaking me than they thought. I
will talk if they torture me again. You must be prepared to kill
me."
D'Argo froze in shock. Once, John Crichton asked him to kill him
when Scorpius's brain implant nearly drove him insane. Now, here he is again
with another Human he began to deeply care for, asking him yet again to help end
their life.
"Sheba," D'Argo said as he held her hand. "Lets do everything
we can to avoid that."
"And if they do come for me or even
you?"
"Then we will face them together as warriors." D'Argo
promised.
Sheba managed to smile. "And try to take a few of them down
with us?"
D'Argo nodded.
"I like that plan better... I don't want
to be... alone." Sheba closed her eyes as exhaustion overcame her again.
D'Argo stayed by her side, watching over her.
