Chapter 5: It's a small world...er...galaxy.
"We need fuel for our ship, but you can't travel all the way to the city. I need a place to leave you."
"Leave me?" Raylani echoed, tired and grumpy and annoyed over his choice of words. "I am not a safe deposit."
"Don't give me that look," Crichton said, shuddering. "I hate that look. Your father gives me that look. Damn you would be so nice to look at if you weren't so...so...Crais-like!"
He had gotten on her last nerve. She drew herself up to her full height, which wasn't much shorter than Crichton, managing to look threatening in spite of being heavily pregnant and glared at him. "Do not," she said, the tension evident around her mouth, "make insulting remarks about my family. Unless you wish yourself and your mivonks to part company very shortly."
He knew that look too. It was a bad look.
"Okay," Crichton said, trying for once to calm rather than ignite a Crais' anger. "But seriously, you can't travel into the city in your condition. You heard, it's a three day journey by road each way, it'll be rough and it's too dangerous for you. I'll go, I'll find some fuel and be back in a weeken. This isn't like the commerce planets we've been on, these people are farmers. I wouldn't say that you're safe here, but it's better for you to get some rest."
Raylani tried to run her fingers through her hair. It didn't work. The action interfered badly with the tightly woven 'French braid' that Crichton had wrestled her hair into. She sighed, resisting the temptation to carry on their argument. Despite everything she had said, the idea of staying here was extremely appealing. Now a solid four monens pregnant, the dream of finding her parents had been replaced by one of a world where she could still see her feet. She felt fat and hot, and the last thing she wanted to do was trek off to the nearest city in search of more fuel. She and Crichton had both hurled a volley of curse words at the trader who had sold them the last lot, after they discovered that the last container had been tainted and was utterly useless. They'd been forced to land here, since the next commerce planet was too far away, and, without more fuel, they'd be stuck.
"Okay, fine," she said, trying to sound reluctant. "If this guy will take me, I'll stay here."
Crichton looked up at the house in front of them. The village leader, whose name they still didn't know, had disappeared inside almost as soon as the door had been opened and was, he assumed, explaining their situation to the owner of the house. Crichton had only caught a glimpse of the man who had answered the door, but there was something nagging at him all the same. The strangest feeling of deja vu.
Suddenly the door opened and the two men returned. Crichton got his second look at the man they hoped would offer Raylani a room. He was tall and broad, with iron grey hair drawn back into a tight tail. And a goatee beard.
A memory suddenly jumped up and slapped Crichton round the face. One of Maldis' castle and the visions he had seen there. "Holy frell," he blurted out, "that's Crais' father!"
***
The last three monens had been a trial. Carma had done as she had predicted and moved back into his quarters after a few weekens, but she'd still been...distant. Still, at least she was talking to him and things were almost back to normal. Raylani's absence obviously weighed heavily on her though. They'd begun to search for her, starting by going back to the planet where she'd left. It had taken several weekens just to get a hint of where she might be. Fortunately, at the next planet, someone had been able to identify her. She'd told them that Raylani had left the planet accompanied by a Sebacean male. Further questioning had resulted in her admitting that Raylani had been 'purchased' by the male, from the one who had brought her to this planet. That news had made Crais' eyes darken. Since then they'd made every effort to locate her, attempting to chart the most likely route of her 'owner' from commerce planet to commerce planet. They'd had some success, but the trail led on and on. They hadn't remained anywhere long enough to be caught up to. At this rate, they might never find her.
Crais had been standing, stock still, looking out of the viewscreen for a full half arn when he felt the arms slide round his waist. He turned, surprised at her expression of affection. They'd been severely lacking over the last few monens. She didn't object to being pulled round into his embrace either.
"Bialar," Carma said, looking up at him, "we'll find her, won't we?"
Crais knew the answer he was expected to give, even when he was starting to lose all hope. Memories of his relentless pursuit of Crichton moved back to the surface of his mind. If he could be that relentless then for his brother, he could be that way now for his daughter.
"Of course," he answered.
"Good," Carma said, leaning against his chest. "She should be with us. I want our children to know their father."
"We have only one child."
"That's true," Carma said, a ghost of a smile in her eyes. "But in four and a half monens we'll have two."
***
Alainya Crais sat in the garden of her home, reflecting on the events of the last solar day. The memories of the two sons she had born, raised and lost before their time to the Peacekeepers had faded slightly over the cycles, as an old photograph would, but she had never forgotten them. She and her husband had had no more children, neither having the heart to face giving them up too. She had accepted, although her heart longed to cling to hope, that she would never see them again.
And now she had a granddaughter, resting upstairs in her home. Bialar was alive and grown, with a child and a woman, if not a wife, that he apparently loved. She longed to see the evidence of her own eyes, the word of two strangers not having the same weight, but it was more than she had ever hoped for. Both her sons had escaped from the Peacekeepers. True one had escaped through death and the other through disgrace, but it didn't matter. They were free and she could have wished for no better fate for them. That she had one son still alive was blessing enough.
Valen, her husband, had gone with Crichton to the city to search for fuel, leaving Raylani in her care. Although her very traditional husband had initially remained distant, noting with disapproval their lack of bonding tattoos, he had thawed somewhat when their situation had been explained. She knew that he was still not entirely happy that his great-grandchild would be illegitimate, but she also knew - with the wisdom born of long experience - that he would all but forget that the moment the child was born and decide firmly that the father was an appalling libertine who had shamefully taken advantage of his flesh and blood and should be disposed of at the first opportunity. It was perhaps fortunate that Raylani had refused to tell him who the father actually was.
Crichton and Raylani had explained their histories as best they could. Alainya had to admit that they sounded unbelievable, but, having lived in the same village her entire life, she suspected that there were many things she didn't know about. Raylani was very different to how a young woman raised here would be, she was far more guarded and no woman here went about armed. It worried Alainya that her granddaughter would not speak of the father of her child or the circumstances that had brought her here alone. Coming from a world in which couples married young and courting was a steady, sedate affair, she was worried that her husband's assessment of the man in question was correct. Not that Raylani didn't seem perfectly capable of fighting off anyone who attacked her.
Despite the questions she still wanted answered, Alainya was intensely grateful to have a link to her family once again. All she needed to complete her happiness was for her son to come home.
***
"There is one more stop I wish to make," Crais said bluntly, as Carma turned to head back to their pod.
"Where?" Carma asked, her forehead wrinkling. "We have supplies, we know where to go next, there's nothing else we need to do."
"I am not of that opinion," Crais said, placing a hand on the small of her back to guide her in the direction he wished to take.
"Okay, in your *opinion*, what have we forgotten?" Carma asked, following him reluctantly. Her feet hurt and she wanted to get back on Raylani's trail as soon as possible.
"To be bonded," was Crais' matter-of-fact reply, delivered without even glancing at her.
"We didn't forget," Carma pointed out, after a moments' stunned silence, "you've never asked."
"I believe I just did."
"Not the most romantic of proposals."
Crais turned to her then, raising an eyebrow. "I believe we have spent sufficient time together for you to know whether or not you wish to be bonded to me. It would therefore be futile to attempt to change your mind with meaningless gestures."
Carma grinned. "That is logical, Captain."
"Then what is your answer?"
"Well," Carma said, still marching along by his side "since you have obviously made up your mind already, it doesn't look like I have a choice."
Crais stopped so suddenly that Carma took another step before she realised he had halted. She turned back to him. He moved closer to her, until she had to tilt her neck right back to look up at him. His dark eyes looked seriously at her.
"Will you be my wife?"
"Well, like you said," Carma replied, grinning up at him, "I couldn't have known you this long without knowing the answer to that question. And, as it happens, that answer is yes."
***
Raylani watched Crichton set off down the track with a heavy heart. Alainya was right, she should not continue her travels with her child due in only three weekens, but who knew what could happen? If Crichton died, she might never be able to leave this planet, would never see her mother again, would never meet her father.
Crichton and Raylani had agreed that Crais and Carma might well be trying to find her and would, in all likelihood, have picked up their trail. Therefore Crichton intended to back-track along their path slightly and return in time for the birth. If he had not found them by this method, the three of them would continue together.
The three of them. That thought filled her with terror. She knew nothing about how to raise a child, although Alainya was trying very hard to teach her as much as possible in the time she had left. She had chosen a name: Marlin, after her old instructor on the Peacekeeper base. Instinct told her that the child was male. She had no idea what name she would give it if she was wrong. It felt like a hundred cycles since she had left the base. Life there hadn't been perfect, but she'd never been alone.
She heard Alainya calling her inside and turned her back on the now empty road. Hoping that, somehow, all would turn out right.
***
"Captain."
"Scorpius."
Braca was tense. Extremely tense. In the entire time he'd been on this base, Scorpius had never once called him for a private conference. It could only mean one thing, he was ready to attack.
Scorpius had been tempted to draw this out, to make Braca sweat, but desire to see the Captain's face when he made his move was too strong. He motioned for Braca to move closer to his desk. Braca took a pidgin step forward. Scorpius smiled.
"Braca," he said, leaning forward, "I have been reviewing some...surveillance logs. I have discovered something...most interesting."
It didn't take a genius to know what he was talking about.
"Your taste is excellent...if a little unwise," Scorpius said, his lips stretching over his teeth as his chilling smile widened. "I imagine that many people would...object...to your actions. Object...strongly. And I shudder to think what High Command would think of your conduct. A non-Peacekeeper...and the daughter of a wanted renegade who is responsible for the destruction of a Peacekeeper command carrier and my wormhole project. Whose mother is a genetic mutant who grew up away from all Peacekeeper influence. Her presence here was tolerated...but your rather more *intimate* relations might be judged as having...influenced you. And, as you know, Peacekeeper High Command...has very strict guidelines about irreversible contamination."
Braca's mind went into overdrive, trying to find a solution. Scorpius began again before he could speak.
"Of course, a recreational tryst...would probably not be remarked on. However," Scorpius said, standing up from his desk and moving round to stand behind Braca, continuing his speech directly into Braca's right ear, "an association that lasts so long and involves such an obvious emotional attachment...is a different matter."
A cold shiver went down Braca's spine, although whether that was from the threat or just close proximity to Scorpius he couldn't tell. After serving as his lieutenant for several cycles, it was a feeling Braca was fairly familiar with.
"If I pass this information to High Command," Scorpius continued, "...you will face the living death. Alternatively...you could take your own life. However...I have a third solution for you."
Braca looked up in surprise. His fear did not decrease.
"Crais...was correct about one thing, Braca," Scorpius said, his smile now oily. "You are a *consummate* Peacekeeper. But you also wish to survive. So...I will allow you to."
Then he let the axe fall.
"You will leave the Peacekeepers, become a renegade like Crais, perhaps even meet up with the lovely Raylani again. You will spend the rest of your days...trying to stay alive. And we shall see...if you can."
"We need fuel for our ship, but you can't travel all the way to the city. I need a place to leave you."
"Leave me?" Raylani echoed, tired and grumpy and annoyed over his choice of words. "I am not a safe deposit."
"Don't give me that look," Crichton said, shuddering. "I hate that look. Your father gives me that look. Damn you would be so nice to look at if you weren't so...so...Crais-like!"
He had gotten on her last nerve. She drew herself up to her full height, which wasn't much shorter than Crichton, managing to look threatening in spite of being heavily pregnant and glared at him. "Do not," she said, the tension evident around her mouth, "make insulting remarks about my family. Unless you wish yourself and your mivonks to part company very shortly."
He knew that look too. It was a bad look.
"Okay," Crichton said, trying for once to calm rather than ignite a Crais' anger. "But seriously, you can't travel into the city in your condition. You heard, it's a three day journey by road each way, it'll be rough and it's too dangerous for you. I'll go, I'll find some fuel and be back in a weeken. This isn't like the commerce planets we've been on, these people are farmers. I wouldn't say that you're safe here, but it's better for you to get some rest."
Raylani tried to run her fingers through her hair. It didn't work. The action interfered badly with the tightly woven 'French braid' that Crichton had wrestled her hair into. She sighed, resisting the temptation to carry on their argument. Despite everything she had said, the idea of staying here was extremely appealing. Now a solid four monens pregnant, the dream of finding her parents had been replaced by one of a world where she could still see her feet. She felt fat and hot, and the last thing she wanted to do was trek off to the nearest city in search of more fuel. She and Crichton had both hurled a volley of curse words at the trader who had sold them the last lot, after they discovered that the last container had been tainted and was utterly useless. They'd been forced to land here, since the next commerce planet was too far away, and, without more fuel, they'd be stuck.
"Okay, fine," she said, trying to sound reluctant. "If this guy will take me, I'll stay here."
Crichton looked up at the house in front of them. The village leader, whose name they still didn't know, had disappeared inside almost as soon as the door had been opened and was, he assumed, explaining their situation to the owner of the house. Crichton had only caught a glimpse of the man who had answered the door, but there was something nagging at him all the same. The strangest feeling of deja vu.
Suddenly the door opened and the two men returned. Crichton got his second look at the man they hoped would offer Raylani a room. He was tall and broad, with iron grey hair drawn back into a tight tail. And a goatee beard.
A memory suddenly jumped up and slapped Crichton round the face. One of Maldis' castle and the visions he had seen there. "Holy frell," he blurted out, "that's Crais' father!"
***
The last three monens had been a trial. Carma had done as she had predicted and moved back into his quarters after a few weekens, but she'd still been...distant. Still, at least she was talking to him and things were almost back to normal. Raylani's absence obviously weighed heavily on her though. They'd begun to search for her, starting by going back to the planet where she'd left. It had taken several weekens just to get a hint of where she might be. Fortunately, at the next planet, someone had been able to identify her. She'd told them that Raylani had left the planet accompanied by a Sebacean male. Further questioning had resulted in her admitting that Raylani had been 'purchased' by the male, from the one who had brought her to this planet. That news had made Crais' eyes darken. Since then they'd made every effort to locate her, attempting to chart the most likely route of her 'owner' from commerce planet to commerce planet. They'd had some success, but the trail led on and on. They hadn't remained anywhere long enough to be caught up to. At this rate, they might never find her.
Crais had been standing, stock still, looking out of the viewscreen for a full half arn when he felt the arms slide round his waist. He turned, surprised at her expression of affection. They'd been severely lacking over the last few monens. She didn't object to being pulled round into his embrace either.
"Bialar," Carma said, looking up at him, "we'll find her, won't we?"
Crais knew the answer he was expected to give, even when he was starting to lose all hope. Memories of his relentless pursuit of Crichton moved back to the surface of his mind. If he could be that relentless then for his brother, he could be that way now for his daughter.
"Of course," he answered.
"Good," Carma said, leaning against his chest. "She should be with us. I want our children to know their father."
"We have only one child."
"That's true," Carma said, a ghost of a smile in her eyes. "But in four and a half monens we'll have two."
***
Alainya Crais sat in the garden of her home, reflecting on the events of the last solar day. The memories of the two sons she had born, raised and lost before their time to the Peacekeepers had faded slightly over the cycles, as an old photograph would, but she had never forgotten them. She and her husband had had no more children, neither having the heart to face giving them up too. She had accepted, although her heart longed to cling to hope, that she would never see them again.
And now she had a granddaughter, resting upstairs in her home. Bialar was alive and grown, with a child and a woman, if not a wife, that he apparently loved. She longed to see the evidence of her own eyes, the word of two strangers not having the same weight, but it was more than she had ever hoped for. Both her sons had escaped from the Peacekeepers. True one had escaped through death and the other through disgrace, but it didn't matter. They were free and she could have wished for no better fate for them. That she had one son still alive was blessing enough.
Valen, her husband, had gone with Crichton to the city to search for fuel, leaving Raylani in her care. Although her very traditional husband had initially remained distant, noting with disapproval their lack of bonding tattoos, he had thawed somewhat when their situation had been explained. She knew that he was still not entirely happy that his great-grandchild would be illegitimate, but she also knew - with the wisdom born of long experience - that he would all but forget that the moment the child was born and decide firmly that the father was an appalling libertine who had shamefully taken advantage of his flesh and blood and should be disposed of at the first opportunity. It was perhaps fortunate that Raylani had refused to tell him who the father actually was.
Crichton and Raylani had explained their histories as best they could. Alainya had to admit that they sounded unbelievable, but, having lived in the same village her entire life, she suspected that there were many things she didn't know about. Raylani was very different to how a young woman raised here would be, she was far more guarded and no woman here went about armed. It worried Alainya that her granddaughter would not speak of the father of her child or the circumstances that had brought her here alone. Coming from a world in which couples married young and courting was a steady, sedate affair, she was worried that her husband's assessment of the man in question was correct. Not that Raylani didn't seem perfectly capable of fighting off anyone who attacked her.
Despite the questions she still wanted answered, Alainya was intensely grateful to have a link to her family once again. All she needed to complete her happiness was for her son to come home.
***
"There is one more stop I wish to make," Crais said bluntly, as Carma turned to head back to their pod.
"Where?" Carma asked, her forehead wrinkling. "We have supplies, we know where to go next, there's nothing else we need to do."
"I am not of that opinion," Crais said, placing a hand on the small of her back to guide her in the direction he wished to take.
"Okay, in your *opinion*, what have we forgotten?" Carma asked, following him reluctantly. Her feet hurt and she wanted to get back on Raylani's trail as soon as possible.
"To be bonded," was Crais' matter-of-fact reply, delivered without even glancing at her.
"We didn't forget," Carma pointed out, after a moments' stunned silence, "you've never asked."
"I believe I just did."
"Not the most romantic of proposals."
Crais turned to her then, raising an eyebrow. "I believe we have spent sufficient time together for you to know whether or not you wish to be bonded to me. It would therefore be futile to attempt to change your mind with meaningless gestures."
Carma grinned. "That is logical, Captain."
"Then what is your answer?"
"Well," Carma said, still marching along by his side "since you have obviously made up your mind already, it doesn't look like I have a choice."
Crais stopped so suddenly that Carma took another step before she realised he had halted. She turned back to him. He moved closer to her, until she had to tilt her neck right back to look up at him. His dark eyes looked seriously at her.
"Will you be my wife?"
"Well, like you said," Carma replied, grinning up at him, "I couldn't have known you this long without knowing the answer to that question. And, as it happens, that answer is yes."
***
Raylani watched Crichton set off down the track with a heavy heart. Alainya was right, she should not continue her travels with her child due in only three weekens, but who knew what could happen? If Crichton died, she might never be able to leave this planet, would never see her mother again, would never meet her father.
Crichton and Raylani had agreed that Crais and Carma might well be trying to find her and would, in all likelihood, have picked up their trail. Therefore Crichton intended to back-track along their path slightly and return in time for the birth. If he had not found them by this method, the three of them would continue together.
The three of them. That thought filled her with terror. She knew nothing about how to raise a child, although Alainya was trying very hard to teach her as much as possible in the time she had left. She had chosen a name: Marlin, after her old instructor on the Peacekeeper base. Instinct told her that the child was male. She had no idea what name she would give it if she was wrong. It felt like a hundred cycles since she had left the base. Life there hadn't been perfect, but she'd never been alone.
She heard Alainya calling her inside and turned her back on the now empty road. Hoping that, somehow, all would turn out right.
***
"Captain."
"Scorpius."
Braca was tense. Extremely tense. In the entire time he'd been on this base, Scorpius had never once called him for a private conference. It could only mean one thing, he was ready to attack.
Scorpius had been tempted to draw this out, to make Braca sweat, but desire to see the Captain's face when he made his move was too strong. He motioned for Braca to move closer to his desk. Braca took a pidgin step forward. Scorpius smiled.
"Braca," he said, leaning forward, "I have been reviewing some...surveillance logs. I have discovered something...most interesting."
It didn't take a genius to know what he was talking about.
"Your taste is excellent...if a little unwise," Scorpius said, his lips stretching over his teeth as his chilling smile widened. "I imagine that many people would...object...to your actions. Object...strongly. And I shudder to think what High Command would think of your conduct. A non-Peacekeeper...and the daughter of a wanted renegade who is responsible for the destruction of a Peacekeeper command carrier and my wormhole project. Whose mother is a genetic mutant who grew up away from all Peacekeeper influence. Her presence here was tolerated...but your rather more *intimate* relations might be judged as having...influenced you. And, as you know, Peacekeeper High Command...has very strict guidelines about irreversible contamination."
Braca's mind went into overdrive, trying to find a solution. Scorpius began again before he could speak.
"Of course, a recreational tryst...would probably not be remarked on. However," Scorpius said, standing up from his desk and moving round to stand behind Braca, continuing his speech directly into Braca's right ear, "an association that lasts so long and involves such an obvious emotional attachment...is a different matter."
A cold shiver went down Braca's spine, although whether that was from the threat or just close proximity to Scorpius he couldn't tell. After serving as his lieutenant for several cycles, it was a feeling Braca was fairly familiar with.
"If I pass this information to High Command," Scorpius continued, "...you will face the living death. Alternatively...you could take your own life. However...I have a third solution for you."
Braca looked up in surprise. His fear did not decrease.
"Crais...was correct about one thing, Braca," Scorpius said, his smile now oily. "You are a *consummate* Peacekeeper. But you also wish to survive. So...I will allow you to."
Then he let the axe fall.
"You will leave the Peacekeepers, become a renegade like Crais, perhaps even meet up with the lovely Raylani again. You will spend the rest of your days...trying to stay alive. And we shall see...if you can."