Here we go again, on that ol' FanFic trail. Why is it that my formatting
takes two goes to get right every time I post it up? Argh!
I don't own the copyright, I'm just taking the characters out for a wee
ride around my brain.
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The hanger bay was large – especially with just two vessels there. Etil's prowler was in one corner and Blaidd One was in the other. And the problem with a small 'primitive' vessel is that powering it up and making it work isn't easy with so many other options available. Huw knew that it was almost impossible to get the right fuel for his pod, because most civilisations had stopped using chemical propellants centuries – or even millennia – before.
Which meant that he had to rip out the old powerplant and the old engines and replace them with new ones if he wanted to get around this part of the universe. Which was a royal pain in the posterior. He sighed and looked at the box of unfamiliar tools in front of him. One looked a bit like a universal wrench, albeit with some odd additions. Picking it up he inspected it carefully. He didn't like the look of one the flanges at all.
"Don't worry, it won't explode," said Tallis from the doorway. She strode towards him holding a small box-like component. "I thought that you might need some help with the conversion. Here..." she handed him the box.
"What the hell is this?"
"Powerplant." She laughed at his expression. "It's a bit smaller than your existing one, right?"
Huw sighed again and looked at his module. "The more I learn about your technology, the more I realise how backwards ours is. Can you give me a hand with stripping the old batteries out and making a start on the conversion?"
They'd been working on Blaidd One for an hour and the conversion was making great strides, when Tallis suddenly went silent. Huw had been talking about the day he had launched from Cape Canaveral, the day that his life – just a few weeks ago – had changed out of all recognition.
Tallis frowned. "You left your home planet just on a mission? I mean, what about your family? Your friends?"
Huw sighed and finished tightening one of the connections to the new powerplant. Then he straightened up and wiped his hands on piece of cloth that Tallis had pulled from her toolbox that seemed to soak up dirt. Looking at the wall opposite he spoke in a monotone: "My parents died ten years – cycles – ago. My sister and her husband died in a car crash – a collision between vehicles – a cycle ago. My..." His voice broke for a second and he stood up suddenly and walked over to the other side of Blaidd and huddled into a service hatch to work on the other set of powerplant connections. "There's no-one left on Earth for me. Some friends, yes, but no family. Not any more."
Sensing that this was a touchy subject Tallis looked back at what she was doing. The problem with being any kind of Peacekeeper – even an ex- Peacekeeper - was that it was difficult to initiate conversations that were not to do with Peacekeeper topics or technology.
There was a long pause, during which Huw muttered something under his breath at the component he was installing, before he looked back at her. "How about you and Etil? Do you mind if I ask if you have family here?"
She shook her head sadly. "We grew up on a colony world and lost our parents when we were young. That's why we were conscripted into the Peacekeepers when I was 12 cycles old. No real family to speak of. The PKs were supposed to fill the void. Duty before everything." Tallis glanced around to find that the human was staring at her with a look of total horror on his face.
"You were how old?" he demanded.
"I was 12 cycles," she said. "I was older than many of the others who were conscripted as well. It's Peacekeeper policy."
He shook his head in disgust and looked down at the floor. "Children..." he muttered. "Conscripted children... how vile can you get." Then he looked back up at her. "Given where we are now, on a stolen Peacekeeper transport, I take it that you failed to be convinced about the PKs filling the familial void?"
The Sebacean pursed her lips and then smiled. "Etil, as you know, is stubborn. Very stubborn. He'd wrangle training assignments to be near me, he sent me messages with code words in them to say that he was unhappy... we wanted out of the Peacekeepers from an early age after we saw just what they were doing. Other species suppressed, hostages taken, Peacekeepers first, everyone else last. We could never put everything together though, we never had the chance to escape. And the more time went on, the more the act of pretending to be good Peacekeepers became more reality than pretence. That's the hook, the drawback to being a Peacekeeper. You can't often break the chains that hold you – the ones in your head.
"Then Laytar arrived. She was a political hostage – her father is a minister on Ralka, a very important man. She was taken by his opponents to ensure his... co-operation. They called in the Peacekeepers to get her well away from the planet. The moment Etil laid eyes on her he was in love for the first time in his life. I've never seen my brother act like that. She saw how he acted, she saw..." Tallis paused, her forehead wrinkling as she grappled with the right words. "Something noble in him, she said, something that made her realise that this was not an ordinary Peacekeeper. And we suddenly had a driving force, something to work for. Free her, free ourselves. Of course along the way we picked up a mad human, but that's what happened to Officer Sun two cycles ago when Crichton arrived in our space."
Huw pulled out the primary air compression coil with a noise that was half a grunt and half a laugh. "I still can't believe that John Crichton, the astronaut-scientist, has become this area's equivalent of a cross between Luke Skywalker and Han Solo!"
"Who are Luuk Skeyewalkerr and Hin Solow?" she asked, puzzled, but he shook his head and told her that he'd explain later. So instead she continued with what Crichton had been up to, while they modified the pod.
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Officer Ontor Corbrin was not a very happy man as he piloted the marauder out of the command carrier. Losing one brother to that renegade Crais had been bad enough. Losing another to a mutiny by a pair of Sebacean renegades who should have been forcibly weeded out of the PK corps at an early age was just monstrous. But at least he had a better chance of revenge against the latter. He shuddered internally at the thought of going up against Talyn. But a MT-300 transport? Easy.
His orders from Lt Braca were simple. Kill the renegades, capture the Ralkan if possible, and above all else secure the human. Crichton was a one- off, a freak. The other human would still be getting used to this area of space, would still be adapting to superior technology and would not be Crichton. That particular human was a disaster area. The other would be easier to capture.
Corbrin looked around at his crew. Analya was sharpening her knife for the third time in 10 microts, Terger was looking at the controls with a scowl of concentration on his scarred features and Krin was busy checking on the munitions in the deployment area. This was going to be easy. And a good way to vent his anger with some constructive atrocities. After all, Braca hadn't told him how long to take over killing the renegades...
************************************************************************
On a commerce planet half a sector away, a tall Luxan warrior looked at the hologram that was playing on the main plaza of the biggest city and suddenly spat out a mouthful of the local beer. Then he keyed his communicator and spoke into it hurriedly. "John, Aeryn, meet me at the bar now. There's something here you should see..."
************************************************************************
The hanger bay was large – especially with just two vessels there. Etil's prowler was in one corner and Blaidd One was in the other. And the problem with a small 'primitive' vessel is that powering it up and making it work isn't easy with so many other options available. Huw knew that it was almost impossible to get the right fuel for his pod, because most civilisations had stopped using chemical propellants centuries – or even millennia – before.
Which meant that he had to rip out the old powerplant and the old engines and replace them with new ones if he wanted to get around this part of the universe. Which was a royal pain in the posterior. He sighed and looked at the box of unfamiliar tools in front of him. One looked a bit like a universal wrench, albeit with some odd additions. Picking it up he inspected it carefully. He didn't like the look of one the flanges at all.
"Don't worry, it won't explode," said Tallis from the doorway. She strode towards him holding a small box-like component. "I thought that you might need some help with the conversion. Here..." she handed him the box.
"What the hell is this?"
"Powerplant." She laughed at his expression. "It's a bit smaller than your existing one, right?"
Huw sighed again and looked at his module. "The more I learn about your technology, the more I realise how backwards ours is. Can you give me a hand with stripping the old batteries out and making a start on the conversion?"
They'd been working on Blaidd One for an hour and the conversion was making great strides, when Tallis suddenly went silent. Huw had been talking about the day he had launched from Cape Canaveral, the day that his life – just a few weeks ago – had changed out of all recognition.
Tallis frowned. "You left your home planet just on a mission? I mean, what about your family? Your friends?"
Huw sighed and finished tightening one of the connections to the new powerplant. Then he straightened up and wiped his hands on piece of cloth that Tallis had pulled from her toolbox that seemed to soak up dirt. Looking at the wall opposite he spoke in a monotone: "My parents died ten years – cycles – ago. My sister and her husband died in a car crash – a collision between vehicles – a cycle ago. My..." His voice broke for a second and he stood up suddenly and walked over to the other side of Blaidd and huddled into a service hatch to work on the other set of powerplant connections. "There's no-one left on Earth for me. Some friends, yes, but no family. Not any more."
Sensing that this was a touchy subject Tallis looked back at what she was doing. The problem with being any kind of Peacekeeper – even an ex- Peacekeeper - was that it was difficult to initiate conversations that were not to do with Peacekeeper topics or technology.
There was a long pause, during which Huw muttered something under his breath at the component he was installing, before he looked back at her. "How about you and Etil? Do you mind if I ask if you have family here?"
She shook her head sadly. "We grew up on a colony world and lost our parents when we were young. That's why we were conscripted into the Peacekeepers when I was 12 cycles old. No real family to speak of. The PKs were supposed to fill the void. Duty before everything." Tallis glanced around to find that the human was staring at her with a look of total horror on his face.
"You were how old?" he demanded.
"I was 12 cycles," she said. "I was older than many of the others who were conscripted as well. It's Peacekeeper policy."
He shook his head in disgust and looked down at the floor. "Children..." he muttered. "Conscripted children... how vile can you get." Then he looked back up at her. "Given where we are now, on a stolen Peacekeeper transport, I take it that you failed to be convinced about the PKs filling the familial void?"
The Sebacean pursed her lips and then smiled. "Etil, as you know, is stubborn. Very stubborn. He'd wrangle training assignments to be near me, he sent me messages with code words in them to say that he was unhappy... we wanted out of the Peacekeepers from an early age after we saw just what they were doing. Other species suppressed, hostages taken, Peacekeepers first, everyone else last. We could never put everything together though, we never had the chance to escape. And the more time went on, the more the act of pretending to be good Peacekeepers became more reality than pretence. That's the hook, the drawback to being a Peacekeeper. You can't often break the chains that hold you – the ones in your head.
"Then Laytar arrived. She was a political hostage – her father is a minister on Ralka, a very important man. She was taken by his opponents to ensure his... co-operation. They called in the Peacekeepers to get her well away from the planet. The moment Etil laid eyes on her he was in love for the first time in his life. I've never seen my brother act like that. She saw how he acted, she saw..." Tallis paused, her forehead wrinkling as she grappled with the right words. "Something noble in him, she said, something that made her realise that this was not an ordinary Peacekeeper. And we suddenly had a driving force, something to work for. Free her, free ourselves. Of course along the way we picked up a mad human, but that's what happened to Officer Sun two cycles ago when Crichton arrived in our space."
Huw pulled out the primary air compression coil with a noise that was half a grunt and half a laugh. "I still can't believe that John Crichton, the astronaut-scientist, has become this area's equivalent of a cross between Luke Skywalker and Han Solo!"
"Who are Luuk Skeyewalkerr and Hin Solow?" she asked, puzzled, but he shook his head and told her that he'd explain later. So instead she continued with what Crichton had been up to, while they modified the pod.
************************************************************************
Officer Ontor Corbrin was not a very happy man as he piloted the marauder out of the command carrier. Losing one brother to that renegade Crais had been bad enough. Losing another to a mutiny by a pair of Sebacean renegades who should have been forcibly weeded out of the PK corps at an early age was just monstrous. But at least he had a better chance of revenge against the latter. He shuddered internally at the thought of going up against Talyn. But a MT-300 transport? Easy.
His orders from Lt Braca were simple. Kill the renegades, capture the Ralkan if possible, and above all else secure the human. Crichton was a one- off, a freak. The other human would still be getting used to this area of space, would still be adapting to superior technology and would not be Crichton. That particular human was a disaster area. The other would be easier to capture.
Corbrin looked around at his crew. Analya was sharpening her knife for the third time in 10 microts, Terger was looking at the controls with a scowl of concentration on his scarred features and Krin was busy checking on the munitions in the deployment area. This was going to be easy. And a good way to vent his anger with some constructive atrocities. After all, Braca hadn't told him how long to take over killing the renegades...
************************************************************************
On a commerce planet half a sector away, a tall Luxan warrior looked at the hologram that was playing on the main plaza of the biggest city and suddenly spat out a mouthful of the local beer. Then he keyed his communicator and spoke into it hurriedly. "John, Aeryn, meet me at the bar now. There's something here you should see..."