Rillian could almost taste the dorvas as he followed what appeared to be a Peacekeeper Marauder, which was itself following the trail of the ship that had broken lockdown almost an arn ago. He knew for a fact that the first one wasn't a Peacekeeper, although the design of the ship was clearly meant to mimic a Marauder – he hoped the second was fraudulent, too, because he was moderately certain he couldn't take a Marauder in a fair fight. Or even an unfair one.
The reward being offered by that claw-headed female was only to be paid upon the capture of John Crichton and his gang. She hadn't said in the beacon why she wanted them, but it was pretty clear that she wanted them alive and that she was tinked. He'd have to share the reward with B'rel, unless he could come up with a way around that little detail, but sharing with one greedy and none-too-bright restaurant owner was a lot better than having a Peacekeeper Commando squad snatching everything away.
Closing rapidly on the ship that just might be a real Marauder, Rillian was surprised to see a brilliant finger of light reach out from it, stopping just short of hitting the Leviathan's nose. A warning shot?
Rillian's interceptor streaked past what he was beginning to believe was indeed a Peacekeeper Marauder. A light began to flash on the control console in front of him, indicating an incoming transmission. He stabbed at the appropriate button and a no-nonsense voice filled his cockpit.
"Cease your pursuit at once. This is Peacekeeper business."
"I don't think so. The criminals on board that Leviathan belong to Relkor Station," he said. At least they will after B'rel and I collect our reward...
"Stop your pursuit and return immediately to Relkor Station," the male voice fairly dripped with contempt as he pronounced the name, "or you will be destroyed. This is your only warning."
XXX
Furlow had just made herself comfortable when her ship's automatic monitoring system picked up a burst of intense radiation in the Leviathan's flight path and set up an audible alarm. Not long after, it picked up communications nearby, although they didn't seem to be aimed at the ship in whose landing bay her own craft rested. She killed the alarm and turned up the volume on the intercepted transmission.
"...is your only warning."
"Uh, oh." She flipped several switches in sequence, which activated circuits that would perform a search until it found the right frequency to get word to Crichton that his precious Leviathan had better move out, and fast. Given the close proximity of the analyzer to the ship whose internal comms frequency she was trying to determine, it should be one hezmana of a lot faster than trying to run back to that den, or whatever he had called it. Besides, Furlow made it a point never to run, if she could help it. While the analyzer did its work, she continued listening to the transmission.
"Look, Peacekeeper, this isn't your part of space. This is the Uncharted Territories and this particular bit of space is under the jurisdiction of Relkor Station." The voice sounded a bit shaky under the bravado.
"You were warned."
Furlow's eyebrows shot up in surprise as the Leviathan was rocked by an explosion nearby. It didn't feel like they had been hit, so it must have been the Peacekeepers firing on the guy they had warned.
"Shoulda listened. Peacekeepers just don't have a sense of humor."
A chirp from her console indicated that the Leviathan's comms frequency had been found. "John, you'd better get this ship under way. The Peacekeepers have caught up with us."
"Yeah, Furlow, thanks so much for the warning," came John's sarcastic reply.
XXX
Furlow's "warning" about the PKs – he'd ask her later how she'd managed to get on the comms – was a day late and a dollar short. He looked over to where Belima was huddled, voraciously devouring food cubes.
At first, she had been suspicious of the little squares, clearly not believing him when he'd told her it was food. He'd munched on half a dozen of the near-tasteless things before she'd taken her first tentative bite to the accompaniment of a loudly growling stomach. With some encouragement from him, she had taken a couple more bites and then snatched the container away from him, hurrying over to a corner with her prize. The turbulence caused by that near miss didn't appear to have disturbed her feeding frenzy at all.
"Chiana," he said into his comms, "you still with Pilot?"
"Yeah, Crichton. He's trying to calm Rohvu. Was that a shot?"
"It was, Pip. Furlow just advised me that we're being chased by Peacekeepers."
"Frell."
"Well, I guess you should just stay where you are, for now. If you can get through to Pilot that Rohvu needs to do some evasive maneuvering, great. I'm going to Command and see if I can use the manual controls."
"Okay, Crichton, I'm on it."
Leaving Belima where she was, John headed toward Command – they had to keep from getting boarded or destroyed until Rohvu could manage a starburst... Even as he left the cargo bay, an ear-splitting shriek brought him almost to his knees and he felt electricity crackling and sparking all around him.
"What the frell?"
XXX
"Tokar, don't you think it odd that there's been no pursuit?" Reyna asked as she and her mate hauled what was once a bed out into the corridor, joining it with the other debris they had already removed from their new – albeit temporary – home. They'd worry about where it was to go from there when the little drama with John's and Chiana's shipmate had been settled.
"The station's authorities aren't all that competent..."
"Well, no, but you said that Rashov had warned you about a Peacekeeper squad, looking specifically for us."
"There's no way of them knowing we were on that ship..."
"Think, Tokar. If a ship suddenly broke free and fled from a station that was supposed to be in complete lockdown, wouldn't you assume that those aboard her might be the ones you were looking for?" She loved the man to distraction, but sometimes he could be so dense.
"You're right," he sighed. "Even if the incompetents that run the station didn't send someone after us, Peacekeepers wouldn't just let a ship go that easily." He spun on his heel, heading at a run up the corridor.
"Where are you going?" Reyna called after him.
"Back to the den. I don't know where Crichton is, but he and Chiana are both wearing comms and Chiana was going to stay with Pilot for a while."
Tokar disappeared around the corner, just as the living ship was rocked by an explosion beyond her hull. Reyna was thrown against a rib, but caught herself before she could fall into the pile of refuse, which had definitely contained Sebacean remains.
Pushing herself off the supporting rib, she hurried after Tokar, thinking, It seems we were pursued, after all.
Almost to the end of the corridor, Reyna's attention was caught by a popping sound from the debris behind her. Looking back at the pile, she saw veins of blue light arcing between some of the metal bits and the ship's walls. The acrid – and growing – smell of ozone surrounded her as the ship itself seemed to scream.
XXX
"Pilot, what's happening?" Chiana was still sitting on his control console, where she could look at him as they talked. He had finally begun to calm down when turbulence had rocked Rohvu, followed close behind by a crackling electricity that surrounded them, coming up from below.
"Hang on, Chiana. Rohvu is initiating starburst. He is in a panic, so it will be rough."
"Where's he gonna go?" she asked, bracing herself.
"I do not know. He is using too much energy..."
They were now completely surrounded by blue veins of arcing, crackling electricity that almost drowned out the high-pitched sound that seemed to come from everywhere at once. Chiana felt her hair standing on end as everything appeared to shift and shimmer around her. The console below her seemed to soften and flow as though it were melting, but the effect lasted for only a handful of microts and then everything snapped back into place, with only the acrid odor of singed hair and plastic remaining to say that anything out of the ordinary had happened.
"Are you all right, Chiana?" a concerned Pilot asked her as Tokar Rhee came skidding into the den.
"What the frell just happened?" he shouted to them, running across the catwalk toward Pilot's console.
"An over-juiced starburst," Chiana replied, her attention caught by a flash of yellow as Reyna Val ran into the room behind her mate.
"Chiana, you and Pilot okay?" came Crichton's urgent voice over the comms.
"Yeah, Crichton, we're okay. Reyna and Tokar are here with us. Where're you?"
"Still in Command." There was a pause and then he continued, "Was that starburst?"
"Yeah, Pilot said Rohvu was panicked and used too much energy."
"Pilot, any idea where we are now?" he asked.
"No, John. It will take some time to determine that. Rohvu initiated starburst with no thought but escape, which does not help matters."
"All right, you guys just hang tight there. I'll get Furlow and we'll meet you in a few."
"'Hang tight?'" Tokar asked with a puzzled look at Chiana.
"He means, 'stay here,'" Chiana replied with a shrug. "You'll get used to it."
XXX
"Yes, Chiana, that switch there," Pilot said, confirming for the Nebari girl which control to activate to initiate the search sequence. He and Rohvu currently had no idea where they might be, their logs having been almost completely wiped during the panicked starburst. They would have to go through the relatively slow process of rebuilding their navigational database using archived information. If only he had the use of his arms, things might go a bit faster...
"Hey, ya'll!" John Crichton said as he and a female who must be the one he called Furlow entered the den. Pilot did not understand the words, but it seemed to be a greeting of some sort.
"Hey, Crichton," Chiana replied.
"Pilot, man, Furlow here has some data chips you might find useful," John said as he vaulted up onto the control console. Pilot was beginning to get used to his and Chiana's penchant for such informal behavior. "Star charts and maps, not only of where we were, but of most of the so-called Uncharteds." He slid a chip into the reader, which automatically began to download the information contained therein.
"That will certainly help, John," Pilot nodded. "Thank you, Furlow." The female's star charts combined with their own archived navigational data should allow them to determine where they were more quickly, but at this point, they had no idea how far that was from where they had originated.
"Don't thank me, Johnny here's paying for it."
"Damn, Furlow, could you be any less predictable?"
She shrugged. "Make sure people know where you stand – that's my motto."
John raised one eyebrow in an expression of skepticism, causing Pilot some confusion. John seemed to know this Furlow, enlisted her help and brought her aboard Rohvu, and yet he did not seem to trust her, as he clearly did trust Chiana.
"How long do you think the search will take, Pilot?" Chiana asked. She and John were sitting beside each other, a set of navigational controls between them, dangling their legs over the side of the console in unison.
"I do not know, Chiana. Furlow's data will help, but it will still take some time."
"And then we need to chart a course to wherever," John added.
"Not wherever, Johnny, to DamBaDa. You're going to help me with the module I'm building, remember?" Furlow said. "This trip has already taken me away from my shop longer than I was expecting."
John looked over at Furlow, still swinging his legs. "How far is DamBaDa from that supply station?"
"About a weeken at hetch 7."
"I've never heard of this Dam-Ba-Da," the Sebacean male added to the discussion, "but Reyna and I have to get word to our unit on Relkor Station as soon as possible, find out where to rendezvous with them."
"Well, Peacekeeper, you'll just have to wait your turn. Once we get to DamBaDa, you can figure out how to reach your unit." Furlow sounded as though she would not budge from her position.
"Ex-Peacekeeper and Reyna and I have important business to attend to."
"Well, so do I, soldier-boy."
"Now, children..." John interrupted the brewing argument. "Chiana and I have friends we'd like to hook back up with, too, but it's all a moot argument until we figure out where we are now in relation to where we were, so frellin' chill, all right?"
The argument swirling around him escalated, but Pilot tuned most of it out, now simply monitoring the increasingly heated exchange in case anything was said that he should respond to. This whole situation was making him very upset, that his new friends – the first normal beings he and Rohvu had been around in so very long – were fighting amongst themselves over something that he and Rohvu were responsible for. Rohvu panicked, Pilot thought, but, then, so did I. Had I not, I might have been able to prevent Rohvu's thoughtless flight. Although he did not like that the three additional – passengers? crew? – were upset with them, blaming Rohvu and himself for losing them somewhere across the galaxy from where they wanted to be, he was much more distressed that John and Chiana were upset.
Pilot felt it when Rohvu picked up on his train of thought. A wave of remorse washed over him through their neural connection. He tried to reassure the Leviathan that all would be well – they were in a much better position now than they had been in even a weeken before – but the Leviathan was caught up in his own remorse and despair and Pilot could not get through to him.
He tuned the argument out entirely, dividing his attention now between monitoring the ship's functions, reassuring his companion, and performing the search of the navigational data.
Perhaps half an arn passed. Pilot became aware that the argument had ended, but the residual hostility remained, a palpable thing hovering like a cloud over and around the Sebaceans and the Nebari girl. A few microts later, the search ended and Pilot realized that it was going to take them at least a couple of monens to return to where the others wanted to be.
While Pilot mentally prepared himself to give the others the bad news, Rohvu began to shake – another of the seizures that he seemed to have become prone to. Pilot concentrated all of his awareness on Rohvu – and was appalled to discover that Rohvu, in a fit of despair, had begun to vent his amnexus fluid and calorics, his lifeblood, into space...