On Moya
Chiana was going about her duties on Moya in a more subdued fashion than
her usual. Avoiding the moody Luxan was getting to be a pain and she had
a dull headache starting.
"One of these frelling visions would just about make ."she cut herself off realizing she was speaking aloud to no one but herself.
"Chiana?" Pilot asked her.
"What?" she snapped back, with a little more acidity in her tone than intended. The pain was escalating in her head. Her vision swam and she didn't hear whatever pilot was trying to say. She saw someone, familiar but not familiar, on what seemed an impossibly high mountain. He was on his knees, howling in rage and pain. In the space of a microt, his hands clenched and he turned his face to the sky. The hatred that crossed his features was simultaneously fierce and foreign to the man. The woman standing behind him seemed taken aback by this new rage. Her arms came around him, and her eyes seemed to glow in a yellow fire. He slumped, grief given free reign for a span of microts.
D'Argo found Chiana slumped over where pilot directed him. He lifted her and carried her quickly to Aeryn.
"Moya will help us care for her. D'Argo, please, stand back from the light."
As Aeryn examined Chiana, John came in.
"Hey, she looks pale."
Aeryn scowled at John's misplaced humor. She had known and loved him long enough to know that his use of the sarcastic phrases from home generally covered an emotional reaction to a situation.
"She will be fine. She is coming around now." Aeryn's statement became self evident as Chiana moaned and put her hand to her head.
"Moya gave you something to remove the pain. Can you tell us what happened?" Aeryn asked as she went over to the other side of the cot.
"How should I know? " Chiana quipped back. Aeryn's brows rose, because Chiana was still staring at the spot Aeryn had vacated.
"Chiana?" Aeryn spoke from her present location. Chiana's eyes tracked the sound but were not focused on her face.
"Whoa, what's with the cane and dog act?"
"John, I don't believe she's acting" Came Pilots reply. "Even linked to administer healing, Moya senses no visual stimuli."
"Can you NOT talk like I am not here! I can see.its just this headache is making it blurry. Maybe whatever Moya gave me."
"Yeah officer, it was the Nyquil, which is why I was swerving." Everyone, including the rapidly recovering Chiana, glared at Crichton.
D'Argo, who had kept to himself to this point, spoke up. "This has happened to you before?"
"What makes you say that?" Chiana snapped back, too quickly, "No!"
"Methinks the lady doth protest too much." John quipped.
"Can Moya do something to get rid of the bigger pain?" Chiana asked Pilot, indicating John.
"Answer my question." D'Argo fairly growled, as if the others had not spoken.
The spirit seemed to sag out of Chiana. She was a survivor, she relied on her plucky independence to get her through everything. But the visions were getting to be a little too much. As much as she hated to give credence to the crew, they had become important and if she had to risk asking for help, this seemed like a good time to do it. It wasn't like she was agreeing to settle on a farm with D'Argo on some planet.
"You are right. I get these visions." She began
"I see dead people." John stage whispered.
"Crichton!" they hissed in unison.
" They leave me blind, sick and I have no idea what they mean."
"What did you see?"
"A man. Sebacean I think, but with tattoos, almost Luxan, on his face. He looked like someone I knew, I can't place the face."
John snorted but wisely held comment to himself. Chiana was known for having passing acquaintance with a great number of males.
"He was angry, and is bent on revenge. In the vision , he saw me too. That has never happened." she trailed the last off, as if she was just realizing the last part. She blinked. Her vision was slowly returning.
"This one was not as bad as some of the others." She added, quietly.
"Are the visions predecessors to anything bad happening?" Aeryn asked.
Chiana had the grace to look sheepish.
"Well, yeah. They usually happen when the Peacekeepers are getting close"
"Great!" John threw his hands up in disgust. "Our own psychic friends' network and you never told us!"
"Back off!" Chiana sat up and faced John off.
"Well," Pilot stepped in "I see you are feeling better , more yourself. Let us scan the area and prepare for possible Peacekeeper activity."
On the unnamed planet:
Ashan and K'Tahli worked silently, side by side in the village. The trip up the mountainside had been peaceful. The seasonal changes were unpredictable on their world due to the unstable orbit of their sun. Today the cool air contributed to the tranquility of the journey. K'Tahli worked to concentrate on her thoughts. As a child, she was able to travel from place to place by thinking about the place. It was disconcerting for her mother, but natural for K'Tahli. As she grew into a young woman, the ability seemed to fade. One winter, after a harsh bout of fever that ravaged the whole community, the ability had gone. She looked over at the back of her life mate. She smiled at the memory. The fever and the pain it caused had been intense, but it was a time of discovery as well. Ashan, a restless young man of 20 cycles, discovered two things on that day. The first, he was a natural healer. When his best friend, K'Tahli, lay helpless, he placed his hands on either side of her face. They both seemed to resonate for the span of several microts, and she was well again. He had felt the fever and pain leaving her, cell by cell it seemed. It was also at that microt he would be bonded to her for life.
When the last of the villagers had been attended to, they started back down the mountain.
It is unclear what she saw first, the anguished fall of her mate or the flash of phase disruption in the distance. She ran to Ashan.
"Did you feel that?" He ground out, through clenched teeth.
He was on the ground. It seemed a disjointed picture, a large and powerful man, trembling like a child on his knees. K'Tahli has felt something, but had instinctively ducked her feelings inside her, fearing her natural amplification would be detrimental.
"I saw the flash." Her words trailed off as she realized the direction of the residual light.
"Not the community? Mother? Marata? Win?" The enormity of the sudden deaths of everyone she held dear was mind numbing. Ashan let out a raging howl, encompassing the rage and pain of not only himself, but also the people who had so recently been snuffed out.
"Who could do such a thing?" K'Tahli asked, stunned, to no one specific. Having studied on several different planets and centers, they both knew of the violent and cruel natures of the many warring races. They were not ignorant of violence, they just chose not to be violent. For Ashan, it was a promise to a mother he knew only in his dreams. For K'Tahli, it was self preservation. The wonderful freedom of a mixed and not fully revealed heritage came with the price of never being sure of one's hereditary weaknesses. What if she had some Luxan rage? Delvian madness? Moments like these tested the limits of her spirit and control.
An eerie change in expression crossed over Ashan's features. He was searching his mind for someone, something that might have reason to do this, someone to whom he could direct the rage building inside him. He looked cold, hard. He seemed to see something in his minds eye.
"What is it?"
He had seen something, but felt uncertain enough about it's origin to share it. Who was the Nebari woman he'd just seen? Where was she? What did she have to do with the deaths of his family?
The thought of his family brought a fresh wave of pain. K'Tahli knelt beside him, held him. She opened herself up to the pain and rage he felt, the pain of those killed. The flux was dizzying, but it enabled her, gave her the power to transport the two of them to the site where their community once quietly prospered.
"One of these frelling visions would just about make ."she cut herself off realizing she was speaking aloud to no one but herself.
"Chiana?" Pilot asked her.
"What?" she snapped back, with a little more acidity in her tone than intended. The pain was escalating in her head. Her vision swam and she didn't hear whatever pilot was trying to say. She saw someone, familiar but not familiar, on what seemed an impossibly high mountain. He was on his knees, howling in rage and pain. In the space of a microt, his hands clenched and he turned his face to the sky. The hatred that crossed his features was simultaneously fierce and foreign to the man. The woman standing behind him seemed taken aback by this new rage. Her arms came around him, and her eyes seemed to glow in a yellow fire. He slumped, grief given free reign for a span of microts.
D'Argo found Chiana slumped over where pilot directed him. He lifted her and carried her quickly to Aeryn.
"Moya will help us care for her. D'Argo, please, stand back from the light."
As Aeryn examined Chiana, John came in.
"Hey, she looks pale."
Aeryn scowled at John's misplaced humor. She had known and loved him long enough to know that his use of the sarcastic phrases from home generally covered an emotional reaction to a situation.
"She will be fine. She is coming around now." Aeryn's statement became self evident as Chiana moaned and put her hand to her head.
"Moya gave you something to remove the pain. Can you tell us what happened?" Aeryn asked as she went over to the other side of the cot.
"How should I know? " Chiana quipped back. Aeryn's brows rose, because Chiana was still staring at the spot Aeryn had vacated.
"Chiana?" Aeryn spoke from her present location. Chiana's eyes tracked the sound but were not focused on her face.
"Whoa, what's with the cane and dog act?"
"John, I don't believe she's acting" Came Pilots reply. "Even linked to administer healing, Moya senses no visual stimuli."
"Can you NOT talk like I am not here! I can see.its just this headache is making it blurry. Maybe whatever Moya gave me."
"Yeah officer, it was the Nyquil, which is why I was swerving." Everyone, including the rapidly recovering Chiana, glared at Crichton.
D'Argo, who had kept to himself to this point, spoke up. "This has happened to you before?"
"What makes you say that?" Chiana snapped back, too quickly, "No!"
"Methinks the lady doth protest too much." John quipped.
"Can Moya do something to get rid of the bigger pain?" Chiana asked Pilot, indicating John.
"Answer my question." D'Argo fairly growled, as if the others had not spoken.
The spirit seemed to sag out of Chiana. She was a survivor, she relied on her plucky independence to get her through everything. But the visions were getting to be a little too much. As much as she hated to give credence to the crew, they had become important and if she had to risk asking for help, this seemed like a good time to do it. It wasn't like she was agreeing to settle on a farm with D'Argo on some planet.
"You are right. I get these visions." She began
"I see dead people." John stage whispered.
"Crichton!" they hissed in unison.
" They leave me blind, sick and I have no idea what they mean."
"What did you see?"
"A man. Sebacean I think, but with tattoos, almost Luxan, on his face. He looked like someone I knew, I can't place the face."
John snorted but wisely held comment to himself. Chiana was known for having passing acquaintance with a great number of males.
"He was angry, and is bent on revenge. In the vision , he saw me too. That has never happened." she trailed the last off, as if she was just realizing the last part. She blinked. Her vision was slowly returning.
"This one was not as bad as some of the others." She added, quietly.
"Are the visions predecessors to anything bad happening?" Aeryn asked.
Chiana had the grace to look sheepish.
"Well, yeah. They usually happen when the Peacekeepers are getting close"
"Great!" John threw his hands up in disgust. "Our own psychic friends' network and you never told us!"
"Back off!" Chiana sat up and faced John off.
"Well," Pilot stepped in "I see you are feeling better , more yourself. Let us scan the area and prepare for possible Peacekeeper activity."
On the unnamed planet:
Ashan and K'Tahli worked silently, side by side in the village. The trip up the mountainside had been peaceful. The seasonal changes were unpredictable on their world due to the unstable orbit of their sun. Today the cool air contributed to the tranquility of the journey. K'Tahli worked to concentrate on her thoughts. As a child, she was able to travel from place to place by thinking about the place. It was disconcerting for her mother, but natural for K'Tahli. As she grew into a young woman, the ability seemed to fade. One winter, after a harsh bout of fever that ravaged the whole community, the ability had gone. She looked over at the back of her life mate. She smiled at the memory. The fever and the pain it caused had been intense, but it was a time of discovery as well. Ashan, a restless young man of 20 cycles, discovered two things on that day. The first, he was a natural healer. When his best friend, K'Tahli, lay helpless, he placed his hands on either side of her face. They both seemed to resonate for the span of several microts, and she was well again. He had felt the fever and pain leaving her, cell by cell it seemed. It was also at that microt he would be bonded to her for life.
When the last of the villagers had been attended to, they started back down the mountain.
It is unclear what she saw first, the anguished fall of her mate or the flash of phase disruption in the distance. She ran to Ashan.
"Did you feel that?" He ground out, through clenched teeth.
He was on the ground. It seemed a disjointed picture, a large and powerful man, trembling like a child on his knees. K'Tahli has felt something, but had instinctively ducked her feelings inside her, fearing her natural amplification would be detrimental.
"I saw the flash." Her words trailed off as she realized the direction of the residual light.
"Not the community? Mother? Marata? Win?" The enormity of the sudden deaths of everyone she held dear was mind numbing. Ashan let out a raging howl, encompassing the rage and pain of not only himself, but also the people who had so recently been snuffed out.
"Who could do such a thing?" K'Tahli asked, stunned, to no one specific. Having studied on several different planets and centers, they both knew of the violent and cruel natures of the many warring races. They were not ignorant of violence, they just chose not to be violent. For Ashan, it was a promise to a mother he knew only in his dreams. For K'Tahli, it was self preservation. The wonderful freedom of a mixed and not fully revealed heritage came with the price of never being sure of one's hereditary weaknesses. What if she had some Luxan rage? Delvian madness? Moments like these tested the limits of her spirit and control.
An eerie change in expression crossed over Ashan's features. He was searching his mind for someone, something that might have reason to do this, someone to whom he could direct the rage building inside him. He looked cold, hard. He seemed to see something in his minds eye.
"What is it?"
He had seen something, but felt uncertain enough about it's origin to share it. Who was the Nebari woman he'd just seen? Where was she? What did she have to do with the deaths of his family?
The thought of his family brought a fresh wave of pain. K'Tahli knelt beside him, held him. She opened herself up to the pain and rage he felt, the pain of those killed. The flux was dizzying, but it enabled her, gave her the power to transport the two of them to the site where their community once quietly prospered.