Survival
Author's note: This is for everybody who did the first-name victory dance in La Bomba, for everyone who thinks it could be slash if only the visual wasn't so icky, and for everyone who found themselves rather sorry for poor Braca at some point- in short, it's for people like me. Spoilers to the bitter end, beware. Alas, none of them are mine, but at least they're coming back! Soundtrack for this is Manic Street Preachers, the entire This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours album (except for the one about stealing the Sun- too many implications to consider). **** Captain Miklo Braca stood and watched. He did that a lot, watching. Not through some voyeuristic penchant in him, he thought, but for knowledge. Knowledge was power, and power could kill. In this particular case, it could get him killed quite easily as well, but that was one of a few risks he was willing to take.
This time wasn't about knowledge though. This was something he really didn't want to know, but something drew him to it, captivated him despite his best efforts to resist. If Scorpius knew he had an audience, there would be ridicule certainly, anger and retribution if the hybrid was in a bad mood, although how anyone could be in a bad mood after-
Braca tore his thoughts away from that path with a violent shudder. Bad enough watching his master with the red headed tralk; he didn't need to build upon it with his imagination.
Master. Braca smiled bitterly. Only in his precious few truly private moments could he afford to think of Scorpius as his master. The rest of the time he was simply his commanding officer, deserving of obedience but nothing further. Most people still saw it, he knew, but it wouldn't do to admit it openly. Not professional in the least. Dangerous. It was clear that he was Scorpius' trusted right hand man, but he'd served in the same capacity to several people over the years. He'd been under Crais the longest, never singled out as a personal assistant until Scorpius arrived, and had never gotten close to the man. Crais had always preferred Teeg anyway, and knowing her fate Braca was rather grateful for that.
Always a trusted second-in-command, safe because he had no ambition. Again he smiled, a twisted, pained grimace. No ambition indeed. No deathwith, more like. Showing ambition before Crais was like rushing headlong into a star going nova, and about as deadly. He'd never needed to stand up to Scorpius, and Grayza.
In the course of his duty over the years, Braca had had to take a lot of dren from various people, but Grayza was truly in a league of her own. He often wondered why High Command allowed her to live at all, with her total contamination plain to see. Then she'd call him, touch him, offer him her poison and he stopped wondering. Until very recently, she'd had them by the mivonks. Leaving, chasing Crichton, had been her first and last mistake, giving them time to come to their senses. Scorpius would be merciful to allow her to kill herself before they got back to High Command. But he knew she could expect no mercy, which was quite fine with him. He never wanted to see her again.
He hoped nobody knew how much facing Grayza down had taken out of him. He'd held up just long enough to draw no comments when he left the bridge and quietly collapsed in his quarters. Peacekeepers were encouraged to dispose of incompetent superior officers if their incompetence was noticed by all, but that was a slippery path to take, and many an officer had faced a firing squad or been executed without trial for attempts to mutiny. In Peacekeeper territory, Braca would probably be very dead now, but on the carrier, with full backing from every single officer, he got away with it. Despite his success, a nagging sense of wrongness ate at him. It went against everything he was, everything he believed in, the unquestioning obedience that never had to be beaten or bullied into him as it had into his classmates.
Braca prided himself on being a good soldier. He had few interests outside his duties, which was as it should be. He'd graduated third in his class, a little known fact, he was an excellent pilot and a fairly good shot. The fact that he'd been chosen for command rather than active combat didn't mean he hadn't passed the same grueling course and tests as any of the others. Always third, though- never first. Always a follower. Running things from behind a desk, people thought; no pressure, no fighting, no danger. Fools. Ever since Scorpius handpicked him to be his aide, life had become distinctly stressful. Braca vaguely remembered watching alien children at play, weaving a complex pattern of steps through two turning ropes, jumping between them from side to side faster and faster as the game progressed. Though Peacekeeper cadets never played, the game much resembled his life. Second in almost everything he was, but even his few enemies had to admit, with disdain or grudging respect, that Braca was a first rate survivor.
The lights in the hall dimmed abruptly, pulling Braca out of his thoughts and back to the corridor of the ship. Through the reflection of his face in the window he saw Scorpius and the alien girl- Sikosu, he reminded himself, sink down on the lounging chair. Their movements became shadow dance in the darkened room, and he tore himself away with a snarl of disgust.
Survival, he thought as marched to the training area, was the key. He was a consummate Peacekeeper, as Crais said once, and over time he became proud of that again. Survive, advance, believe unquestioningly in your superiors and in your own skills and in the purity of your race. To do anything else would mean losing everything he had. Contamination hung over their heads constantly, over his more so than most. The moment he lost favor, he would be discharged for 'medical' reasons, if he was lucky, and spend the rest of his existence in Living Death. Not a pleasant prospect, and one he was desperate to avoid, despite his record with aliens, traitors, hybrids and one truly demented tralk. So far, though, he had survived. Switched sides and allegiances almost too quickly, and made himself indispensable to whoever was on top at the moment- by any means necessary.
This time, he told himself grimly, evicting a junior officer from one of the private training rooms and starting a workout meant to drive him to exhaustion, survival may have cost him too much. Scorpius had yet to mention Braca's treatment of him while he was Grayza's prisoner, and the thought of his upcoming revenge (he was certain one was coming) worried him. Certainly Scorpius had seemed pleased with him when they'd met on Moya, but their friendship seemed to have cooled off. No one would understand doing what had to be done better than Scorpius, and his trust in Braca hadn't waned, as far as he knew, but.The personal touch was gone.
Braca punched the training dummy furiously, pausing only to wipe sweat out of his eyes. Maybe the Kalish female was the revenge. Back on safe ground after more than a cycle, and Scorpius only had eyes for her. Was this his punishment for letting Grayza use him? Had he had any choice? His punches became harder and faster, snarling her name with every hit. Then he switched to another name, the root of all his problems.
"Crichton." The dummy swung wildly. It was all that crazy alien's fault. Crais had been rational, if moody, before his brother was killed. Scorpius risked status, safety, life and crew in his chase after the elusive human. He had driven Grayza to the brink of madness and beyond. Braca wondered what it was about the human that made him trail disaster in his wake, what made people so obsessed with him. He definitely made life more interesting, but adventure wasn't quite what a proper Peacekeeper should look for, was it? The man was a menace. He'd already corrupted two good officers, and didn't seem to be slowing down. Braca knew officer Sun was pregnant, and it had been simple to obtain her medical records from the carrier's doctor. The thought made him ill. At least Scorpius' half-breed birth had been the product of unwilling violence. To willingly mate with an alien.Unthinkable.
At long last he stopped and faced the tattered dummy, breathing hard. He was soaked with sweat and his knuckles skinned raw. Should've worn gloves. Stupid of him. Just what he needed, for the crew to see him like this, but no one would dare say anything. With luck, he could maybe even catch an arn or two of sleep before his next round of inspection and bridge-duty.
He should've learned not to expect luck. The moment he reached his quarters, his comm-unit beeped. "Captain Braca!"
"Sir." He snapped to attention at Scorpius' disembodied voice without realizing it.
"You sound out of breath, Captain. If there anything amiss?" Meaning only 'is there anything I should be made aware of?' Never a personal question.
"Not at all sir. A simple workout."
"Very well." Scorpius didn't sound satisfied. "I'll be expecting you in my quarters in a quarter of an arn." With that, he comm'ed out.
Braca sighed. At least he was given enough time to refresh and change, this time, which was fortunate, all things considered. Better than Grayza's usual demands, immediate and sneering, by far. His quarters were painfully neat, bare of any of the small trophies and keepsakes other officers had. Braca had no need for them, no connection to this particular room, or to any other material possession, except his weapon. A weapon was special.
Exactly fifteen microts before he was due, Braca stood in front of Scorpius' door, waiting to be summoned in. He put on his best cool, professional look, a blank expression that came as naturally as breathing, despite his worries. When the call finally came, he strode in, looking entirely sure of himself yet properly respectful. He waited at rigid attention to be addressed.
Scorpius kept him waiting for what felt like eternity while he read some report. He finished reading and dismissed the secretary who brought the report, then stood up. He stalked towards Braca, circling him once, and came to stand directly in front of him. "At ease, Captain."
"Sir." Braca relaxed his stance the tiniest bit, standing with his feet apart and his hands behind his back, eyes still looking straight ahead. He'd managed to scan the room as he moved in- the Kalish wasn't there.
"She's asleep."
"Sir?" He allowed himself a small frown.
"Sikosu. You're wondering where she is." Scorpius explained. "She's asleep in her room, next door." Braca didn't bother to deny it, but didn't confirm it either. Both would be pointless. Scorpius seemed to wait for a response, then shrugged and moved on. "I didn't get a chance to congratulate you on your timely little coup, Captain. Well done indeed."
"Thank you, sir." Staying on safe ground, serving the cause. Still, it felt pathetically nice to be appreciated.
"Did you enjoy it?" Scorpius turned on him suddenly, standing way too close for comfort. Braca forced himself to stay calm.
"I.I don't understand, sir." He said carefully.
"Overthrowing her, captain. Controlling the ship. Power." The hybrid stressed the word. "Did you enjoy it?"
"Oh." Relief flooded him. That. Not earlier, not about Grayza or Arnessk. "Yes sir. I did." And he had. The heady rush of command, the thrill of being his own master, just for a little while. It had felt good. Scorpius smiled, and for a moment Braca thought that was it. He was a dead man.
"Excellent. I'll need to find you other opportunities to practice true command. You're showing promise."
"Thank you, sir." More heartfelt this time, and slightly disbelieving. Was he really not going to mention it at all? They stood in silence for a few microts, then Scorpius spoke again.
"Captain, I'd like you to report to the medical facility at the end of your shift, for a complete physical exam."
"Yes sir." He answered instinctively. An order and a reply- no need to question, no need to wonder. But he did wonder- a complete physical could have many implications, none of them good. He struggled to find a way to question the order without seeming to. "Is there anything in particular I should tell them to look for."
"They have their orders." Scorpius replied, then seemed to change his mind. "I want to be completely certain that Grayza has left no foreign substances in your system, and that the heppel oil she used didn't have any long term effects. I can't risk her using you as a sleeper agent." The fact that she might still use him as an aware, willing agent wasn't mentioned.
"Of course, sir." He should've guessed. Scorpius liked to keep all possible options covered. Again, there was no personal meaning to the order. Whatever problems Grayza's treatment had left him with, he would deal with them on his own, and Scorpius didn't care.
"Braca," Scorpius changed the subject again, leaving Braca floundering behind him, "Have you had a chance to get a feel of the crew about our newest guest?" 'Our' guest, not his personal toy.
"Not yet, sir." Could he afford to warn Scorpius, as well as express his own opinion on the subject? It wasn't his place, but- "Sir, I suspect none of the will be pleased. She's an alien, and-"
"And no one will say anything." Scorpius cut him off coldly. "She's my inside contact to the Scarran empire. Her connections inside the empire will prove invaluable to us." His expression telegraphed the fact that anything else he did with her was his own business, and no one else's.
There was no response he could make to that. "Understood, sir. I'll.explain that to the crew, should the situation call for it." Right before sending the offender to the nearest detention block. Hoping he wouldn't have to send himself right along with him for agreeing. Fair wasn't a part of Peacekeeper life.
"Anything else to report?"
"No sir. We're proceeding to High Command to hand Grayza over, and then."
"Then we'll do whatever we're told." Scorpius shrugged. Braca gaped at him, composure entirely lost for a moment.
"Whatever.we're told?" That was entirely new, for Scorpius.
"Indeed. Here-" Scorpius handed him the report he'd been reading earlier, "Read this." Braca did, and his eyes widened in shock as he realized what he was reading. He looked up from the screen, disbelieving.
"Sir, are you quite sure?"
"Very." Scorpius was grim. "My sources are accurate, and cross checked with planetary authorities."
"He's dead then. And Aeryn, and the child." In his shock, he didn't even notice his slight slip of the tongue. Scorpius did, but had bigger fish to fry.
"Yes, they're all dead, and the wormhole knowledge with them." He sighed. "We'll just bide our time while the Scarrans rebuild their empire, until we get more funding."
"Yes sir." Braca didn't know what prompted him to add, "I'm sorry, sir." What was he sorry for, though? For the loss of the wormhole knowledge? He had no particular sentiments about it. About the loss of a worthy adversary in Crichton? Perhaps, but perhaps life will return to some semblance of normalcy now that he was gone. For Aeryn Sun? No, that was his own feeling of anger at a wasted life of a formerly fine officer. He was sorry for Scorpius, he decided at last, for losing his purpose in life. With the Scarrans disabled and Crichton dead, what would he do now?
"Some events are beyond our control." Scorpius said fatalistically. If he was at all bothered by this disturbing piece of news, he didn't show it. "If there's nothing else-" At Braca's small shake of the head, he finished, "Dismissed, captain."
"Sir." Braca snapped to attention again, turned about sharply and headed out, only to stop. He couldn't just let it go. He had to say something, or he'd become useless. "Sir, permission to speak freely?"
"Granted always, Braca. You may always speak freely to me." Scorpius, behind Braca's back, smiled wide. At last.
"Thank you, sir." Now that he could, he was at a loss. "Sir, about what happened, on Arnessk, and with Grayza." He stopped, swallowed and continued. "I wanted to apologize, sir."
"No need, captain." Scorpius' voice was its usual smooth, inflectionless self, but with a small note of satisfaction in it. "You did as you were ordered. By both of us. And as I've said before, you did very well."
Braca breathed in relief. If revenge had been forthcoming, it would've come already. "Sir." He said, unsure of what to add. He continued on his way out.
"Tell me, captain- did you enjoy it?"
Braca stopped dead in his tracks. There it was- the question he'd been dreading. At least he could answer it with complete honesty, as Scorpius' powers demanded. "No sir. Not for a microt."
"Good." Scorpius nodded. "Look at me." Braca turned around, worried again. Scorpius closed the distance between them with a single step and cupped Braca's face with one black gloved palm. "Remember, Captain. That woman is finished." He trailed his hand down, and for the first time since his return his eyes held that same fervor Braca recognized, had missed, "And we have only just begun. I am not that easily distracted, and I do not forget. "
Much later, in his quarters, Braca smiled for the first time in weekens.
Author's note: This is for everybody who did the first-name victory dance in La Bomba, for everyone who thinks it could be slash if only the visual wasn't so icky, and for everyone who found themselves rather sorry for poor Braca at some point- in short, it's for people like me. Spoilers to the bitter end, beware. Alas, none of them are mine, but at least they're coming back! Soundtrack for this is Manic Street Preachers, the entire This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours album (except for the one about stealing the Sun- too many implications to consider). **** Captain Miklo Braca stood and watched. He did that a lot, watching. Not through some voyeuristic penchant in him, he thought, but for knowledge. Knowledge was power, and power could kill. In this particular case, it could get him killed quite easily as well, but that was one of a few risks he was willing to take.
This time wasn't about knowledge though. This was something he really didn't want to know, but something drew him to it, captivated him despite his best efforts to resist. If Scorpius knew he had an audience, there would be ridicule certainly, anger and retribution if the hybrid was in a bad mood, although how anyone could be in a bad mood after-
Braca tore his thoughts away from that path with a violent shudder. Bad enough watching his master with the red headed tralk; he didn't need to build upon it with his imagination.
Master. Braca smiled bitterly. Only in his precious few truly private moments could he afford to think of Scorpius as his master. The rest of the time he was simply his commanding officer, deserving of obedience but nothing further. Most people still saw it, he knew, but it wouldn't do to admit it openly. Not professional in the least. Dangerous. It was clear that he was Scorpius' trusted right hand man, but he'd served in the same capacity to several people over the years. He'd been under Crais the longest, never singled out as a personal assistant until Scorpius arrived, and had never gotten close to the man. Crais had always preferred Teeg anyway, and knowing her fate Braca was rather grateful for that.
Always a trusted second-in-command, safe because he had no ambition. Again he smiled, a twisted, pained grimace. No ambition indeed. No deathwith, more like. Showing ambition before Crais was like rushing headlong into a star going nova, and about as deadly. He'd never needed to stand up to Scorpius, and Grayza.
In the course of his duty over the years, Braca had had to take a lot of dren from various people, but Grayza was truly in a league of her own. He often wondered why High Command allowed her to live at all, with her total contamination plain to see. Then she'd call him, touch him, offer him her poison and he stopped wondering. Until very recently, she'd had them by the mivonks. Leaving, chasing Crichton, had been her first and last mistake, giving them time to come to their senses. Scorpius would be merciful to allow her to kill herself before they got back to High Command. But he knew she could expect no mercy, which was quite fine with him. He never wanted to see her again.
He hoped nobody knew how much facing Grayza down had taken out of him. He'd held up just long enough to draw no comments when he left the bridge and quietly collapsed in his quarters. Peacekeepers were encouraged to dispose of incompetent superior officers if their incompetence was noticed by all, but that was a slippery path to take, and many an officer had faced a firing squad or been executed without trial for attempts to mutiny. In Peacekeeper territory, Braca would probably be very dead now, but on the carrier, with full backing from every single officer, he got away with it. Despite his success, a nagging sense of wrongness ate at him. It went against everything he was, everything he believed in, the unquestioning obedience that never had to be beaten or bullied into him as it had into his classmates.
Braca prided himself on being a good soldier. He had few interests outside his duties, which was as it should be. He'd graduated third in his class, a little known fact, he was an excellent pilot and a fairly good shot. The fact that he'd been chosen for command rather than active combat didn't mean he hadn't passed the same grueling course and tests as any of the others. Always third, though- never first. Always a follower. Running things from behind a desk, people thought; no pressure, no fighting, no danger. Fools. Ever since Scorpius handpicked him to be his aide, life had become distinctly stressful. Braca vaguely remembered watching alien children at play, weaving a complex pattern of steps through two turning ropes, jumping between them from side to side faster and faster as the game progressed. Though Peacekeeper cadets never played, the game much resembled his life. Second in almost everything he was, but even his few enemies had to admit, with disdain or grudging respect, that Braca was a first rate survivor.
The lights in the hall dimmed abruptly, pulling Braca out of his thoughts and back to the corridor of the ship. Through the reflection of his face in the window he saw Scorpius and the alien girl- Sikosu, he reminded himself, sink down on the lounging chair. Their movements became shadow dance in the darkened room, and he tore himself away with a snarl of disgust.
Survival, he thought as marched to the training area, was the key. He was a consummate Peacekeeper, as Crais said once, and over time he became proud of that again. Survive, advance, believe unquestioningly in your superiors and in your own skills and in the purity of your race. To do anything else would mean losing everything he had. Contamination hung over their heads constantly, over his more so than most. The moment he lost favor, he would be discharged for 'medical' reasons, if he was lucky, and spend the rest of his existence in Living Death. Not a pleasant prospect, and one he was desperate to avoid, despite his record with aliens, traitors, hybrids and one truly demented tralk. So far, though, he had survived. Switched sides and allegiances almost too quickly, and made himself indispensable to whoever was on top at the moment- by any means necessary.
This time, he told himself grimly, evicting a junior officer from one of the private training rooms and starting a workout meant to drive him to exhaustion, survival may have cost him too much. Scorpius had yet to mention Braca's treatment of him while he was Grayza's prisoner, and the thought of his upcoming revenge (he was certain one was coming) worried him. Certainly Scorpius had seemed pleased with him when they'd met on Moya, but their friendship seemed to have cooled off. No one would understand doing what had to be done better than Scorpius, and his trust in Braca hadn't waned, as far as he knew, but.The personal touch was gone.
Braca punched the training dummy furiously, pausing only to wipe sweat out of his eyes. Maybe the Kalish female was the revenge. Back on safe ground after more than a cycle, and Scorpius only had eyes for her. Was this his punishment for letting Grayza use him? Had he had any choice? His punches became harder and faster, snarling her name with every hit. Then he switched to another name, the root of all his problems.
"Crichton." The dummy swung wildly. It was all that crazy alien's fault. Crais had been rational, if moody, before his brother was killed. Scorpius risked status, safety, life and crew in his chase after the elusive human. He had driven Grayza to the brink of madness and beyond. Braca wondered what it was about the human that made him trail disaster in his wake, what made people so obsessed with him. He definitely made life more interesting, but adventure wasn't quite what a proper Peacekeeper should look for, was it? The man was a menace. He'd already corrupted two good officers, and didn't seem to be slowing down. Braca knew officer Sun was pregnant, and it had been simple to obtain her medical records from the carrier's doctor. The thought made him ill. At least Scorpius' half-breed birth had been the product of unwilling violence. To willingly mate with an alien.Unthinkable.
At long last he stopped and faced the tattered dummy, breathing hard. He was soaked with sweat and his knuckles skinned raw. Should've worn gloves. Stupid of him. Just what he needed, for the crew to see him like this, but no one would dare say anything. With luck, he could maybe even catch an arn or two of sleep before his next round of inspection and bridge-duty.
He should've learned not to expect luck. The moment he reached his quarters, his comm-unit beeped. "Captain Braca!"
"Sir." He snapped to attention at Scorpius' disembodied voice without realizing it.
"You sound out of breath, Captain. If there anything amiss?" Meaning only 'is there anything I should be made aware of?' Never a personal question.
"Not at all sir. A simple workout."
"Very well." Scorpius didn't sound satisfied. "I'll be expecting you in my quarters in a quarter of an arn." With that, he comm'ed out.
Braca sighed. At least he was given enough time to refresh and change, this time, which was fortunate, all things considered. Better than Grayza's usual demands, immediate and sneering, by far. His quarters were painfully neat, bare of any of the small trophies and keepsakes other officers had. Braca had no need for them, no connection to this particular room, or to any other material possession, except his weapon. A weapon was special.
Exactly fifteen microts before he was due, Braca stood in front of Scorpius' door, waiting to be summoned in. He put on his best cool, professional look, a blank expression that came as naturally as breathing, despite his worries. When the call finally came, he strode in, looking entirely sure of himself yet properly respectful. He waited at rigid attention to be addressed.
Scorpius kept him waiting for what felt like eternity while he read some report. He finished reading and dismissed the secretary who brought the report, then stood up. He stalked towards Braca, circling him once, and came to stand directly in front of him. "At ease, Captain."
"Sir." Braca relaxed his stance the tiniest bit, standing with his feet apart and his hands behind his back, eyes still looking straight ahead. He'd managed to scan the room as he moved in- the Kalish wasn't there.
"She's asleep."
"Sir?" He allowed himself a small frown.
"Sikosu. You're wondering where she is." Scorpius explained. "She's asleep in her room, next door." Braca didn't bother to deny it, but didn't confirm it either. Both would be pointless. Scorpius seemed to wait for a response, then shrugged and moved on. "I didn't get a chance to congratulate you on your timely little coup, Captain. Well done indeed."
"Thank you, sir." Staying on safe ground, serving the cause. Still, it felt pathetically nice to be appreciated.
"Did you enjoy it?" Scorpius turned on him suddenly, standing way too close for comfort. Braca forced himself to stay calm.
"I.I don't understand, sir." He said carefully.
"Overthrowing her, captain. Controlling the ship. Power." The hybrid stressed the word. "Did you enjoy it?"
"Oh." Relief flooded him. That. Not earlier, not about Grayza or Arnessk. "Yes sir. I did." And he had. The heady rush of command, the thrill of being his own master, just for a little while. It had felt good. Scorpius smiled, and for a moment Braca thought that was it. He was a dead man.
"Excellent. I'll need to find you other opportunities to practice true command. You're showing promise."
"Thank you, sir." More heartfelt this time, and slightly disbelieving. Was he really not going to mention it at all? They stood in silence for a few microts, then Scorpius spoke again.
"Captain, I'd like you to report to the medical facility at the end of your shift, for a complete physical exam."
"Yes sir." He answered instinctively. An order and a reply- no need to question, no need to wonder. But he did wonder- a complete physical could have many implications, none of them good. He struggled to find a way to question the order without seeming to. "Is there anything in particular I should tell them to look for."
"They have their orders." Scorpius replied, then seemed to change his mind. "I want to be completely certain that Grayza has left no foreign substances in your system, and that the heppel oil she used didn't have any long term effects. I can't risk her using you as a sleeper agent." The fact that she might still use him as an aware, willing agent wasn't mentioned.
"Of course, sir." He should've guessed. Scorpius liked to keep all possible options covered. Again, there was no personal meaning to the order. Whatever problems Grayza's treatment had left him with, he would deal with them on his own, and Scorpius didn't care.
"Braca," Scorpius changed the subject again, leaving Braca floundering behind him, "Have you had a chance to get a feel of the crew about our newest guest?" 'Our' guest, not his personal toy.
"Not yet, sir." Could he afford to warn Scorpius, as well as express his own opinion on the subject? It wasn't his place, but- "Sir, I suspect none of the will be pleased. She's an alien, and-"
"And no one will say anything." Scorpius cut him off coldly. "She's my inside contact to the Scarran empire. Her connections inside the empire will prove invaluable to us." His expression telegraphed the fact that anything else he did with her was his own business, and no one else's.
There was no response he could make to that. "Understood, sir. I'll.explain that to the crew, should the situation call for it." Right before sending the offender to the nearest detention block. Hoping he wouldn't have to send himself right along with him for agreeing. Fair wasn't a part of Peacekeeper life.
"Anything else to report?"
"No sir. We're proceeding to High Command to hand Grayza over, and then."
"Then we'll do whatever we're told." Scorpius shrugged. Braca gaped at him, composure entirely lost for a moment.
"Whatever.we're told?" That was entirely new, for Scorpius.
"Indeed. Here-" Scorpius handed him the report he'd been reading earlier, "Read this." Braca did, and his eyes widened in shock as he realized what he was reading. He looked up from the screen, disbelieving.
"Sir, are you quite sure?"
"Very." Scorpius was grim. "My sources are accurate, and cross checked with planetary authorities."
"He's dead then. And Aeryn, and the child." In his shock, he didn't even notice his slight slip of the tongue. Scorpius did, but had bigger fish to fry.
"Yes, they're all dead, and the wormhole knowledge with them." He sighed. "We'll just bide our time while the Scarrans rebuild their empire, until we get more funding."
"Yes sir." Braca didn't know what prompted him to add, "I'm sorry, sir." What was he sorry for, though? For the loss of the wormhole knowledge? He had no particular sentiments about it. About the loss of a worthy adversary in Crichton? Perhaps, but perhaps life will return to some semblance of normalcy now that he was gone. For Aeryn Sun? No, that was his own feeling of anger at a wasted life of a formerly fine officer. He was sorry for Scorpius, he decided at last, for losing his purpose in life. With the Scarrans disabled and Crichton dead, what would he do now?
"Some events are beyond our control." Scorpius said fatalistically. If he was at all bothered by this disturbing piece of news, he didn't show it. "If there's nothing else-" At Braca's small shake of the head, he finished, "Dismissed, captain."
"Sir." Braca snapped to attention again, turned about sharply and headed out, only to stop. He couldn't just let it go. He had to say something, or he'd become useless. "Sir, permission to speak freely?"
"Granted always, Braca. You may always speak freely to me." Scorpius, behind Braca's back, smiled wide. At last.
"Thank you, sir." Now that he could, he was at a loss. "Sir, about what happened, on Arnessk, and with Grayza." He stopped, swallowed and continued. "I wanted to apologize, sir."
"No need, captain." Scorpius' voice was its usual smooth, inflectionless self, but with a small note of satisfaction in it. "You did as you were ordered. By both of us. And as I've said before, you did very well."
Braca breathed in relief. If revenge had been forthcoming, it would've come already. "Sir." He said, unsure of what to add. He continued on his way out.
"Tell me, captain- did you enjoy it?"
Braca stopped dead in his tracks. There it was- the question he'd been dreading. At least he could answer it with complete honesty, as Scorpius' powers demanded. "No sir. Not for a microt."
"Good." Scorpius nodded. "Look at me." Braca turned around, worried again. Scorpius closed the distance between them with a single step and cupped Braca's face with one black gloved palm. "Remember, Captain. That woman is finished." He trailed his hand down, and for the first time since his return his eyes held that same fervor Braca recognized, had missed, "And we have only just begun. I am not that easily distracted, and I do not forget. "
Much later, in his quarters, Braca smiled for the first time in weekens.