John Crichton stared out from Rohvu's observation deck at the panorama displayed before him. Normally, this area would be closed off due to a lack of atmosphere, but, following Pilot's announcement of their arrival at the Leviathan burial space and his estimate of the time it would take to find an appropriate candidate, John had returned to his quarters with the sleeping powder Reyna had given him and donned his borrowed EVA suit in preparation for rummaging through dead Leviathans. Since he didn't feel like talking to anyone and no one but Pip would even think to look for him here, here he sat, watching, as Rohvu approached a dead ship, drifting dull gold and at peace against a backdrop of glittering stars. Watching that dead Leviathan, John found it more difficult than he had thought it would be to steel himself for what was to come.
The plan was to get within short-range scanning distance and, once they verified that the Leviathan was indeed dead, he, Tokar, and Furlow would take a quick trip over in Furlow's fake-a-Marauder. The three of them would then go through the ship and salvage whatever they could find. He was pretty sure Furlow would snag anything that wasn't nailed down so she could sell it later - the greed had been evident in her voice every time the burial space was mentioned over the past few solar days.
"John," Pilot's voice buzzed over his comms, derailing his train of thought.
"Yeah, Pilot."
"The scans are complete, John. She is, indeed, dead and Furlow and Tokar are ready to depart."
"Thanks, Pilot, I'll be right there."
She. Knowing that the Leviathan they would be looting first was female made the resemblance to Moya even more strong. John sat on the observation deck - what he had dubbed the "terrace" on Moya - for a couple of minutes more, watching the old girl drift before glancing down at his dull black EVA suit, borrowed from Furlow and not yet returned since his last vacuum-walk. "John Crichton, murderer, thief, and now grave robber. Wouldn't Dad be proud?"
xxx
"You be careful over there, Old Man..."
Chiana's parting words, whispered to him as he boarded Furlow's ship, still rang in John's ears, drowning out the sound of his own breathing doubling back at him within the confines of his helmet. He understood the wisp of fear underlying her words - neither of them could help but remember vividly the last time they had set foot on what had appeared to be a dead Leviathan. She had stepped back from him as soon as she had said it, almost as if afraid to touch him. For that matter, maybe she was a little afraid to touch him, after their last encounter. He and Pip were definitely going to have to have a little talk.
His booted foot hit something solid and he looked down to find a DRD, blue in color but otherwise identical to those running around on Moya. Squatting down, he picked up the lifeless mechanoid, bringing it nearer to his face for a closer look.
A quick visual inspection showed no noticeable damage, nothing that would not be considered normal wear and tear. It had probably simply stopped functioning when the Leviathan's systems had shut down in death. John carefully placed the dormant DRD in the bag he carried slung over his back. Hopefully, this and any other DRDs they came across could be adapted to Rohvu's systems.
He continued to move cautiously through the ship, heading toward what past experience indicated would be the central maintenance bay. While John looked for DRDs and tools in maintenance, Furlow would be searching the main hangar in which they had landed as well as the transport pod hangars, and Tokar was to head for the armory. John hadn't been surprised to learn that Furlow's beige jumpsuit was actually an EVA suit, even though she had never volunteered that little tidbit of information when he and Tokar had done all the work in Rohvu's vacuum-filled tiers. Furlow was Furlow and, though Harvey had his own agenda in mind when he had warned John against her weeks ago, that didn't mean that the neural clone was wrong about not trusting her.
Two tiers and several minutes later, having found nothing else of use along the way, John reached the central maintenance bay, pretty much where they had expected it to be. Leviathans developed according to the needs of their crew and both of the Leviathans he had been on had at one time been Peacekeeper prison transports. The scars on the outer hull of this one indicated that she had also once worn a control collar in service to the Peacekeepers.
Inside the maintenance bay, he found several more defunct DRDs, which he placed carefully in the bag with the first one. Surveying the dark room, the lights of his helmet reflecting back at him from surfaces here and there, he walked over to the main workbench and poked around through some of the bins hooked into the wall above. They would need various pieces parts to get the DRDs running again, and maybe he could find enough spare parts in these bins to build additional DRDs.
He unhooked and set aside the bins he wanted and commed Furlow. "Furlow, sweetheart, how 'bout you bring me a couple crates and a dolly?" He almost winced when he called her sweetheart, but, as Grandma Crichton always used to say, you get more flies with honey than with vinegar.
"What the frell is a 'dolly?'" She sounded irritated and a bit out of breath.
"Kind of a cart with wheels. You use it to carry heavy stuff."
"Well, aren't there any in the maintenance bay?"
"Nope. Not a one." If she didn't have one in her ship's stores, he'd have to go look for one in one of the cargo bays. Too bad he hadn't thought of a dolly before they'd gotten over here...
While he waited for Furlow's response, he continued his search, which yielded a box large enough to carry most of the smaller bins he wanted. "If you've got a dolly, Furlow, I've got the crate covered," he commed, pulling the empty box from the shelf where it resided to place it on the floor. He dragged it over to the workbench and began loading it.
xxx
Chiana stalked restlessly around Command, stopping every few microts to look again at the Leviathan drifting in the viewscreen. Crichton and the others had been gone for more than an arn already, not bothering to check in once in that entire time, at least not with her. She knew Pilot would comm her if anything happened, but still...
"Chia-na?"
The Nebari, not currently pacing, but rather stopped in front of the viewscreen, glanced over her shoulder and spotted Belima standing in the open doorway, one hand resting on the door itself. "Hey, Belima."
"Why you...?" Her brow furrowed as she tried to think of the word she wanted. When it wouldn't come to her, she pantomimed the action of walking, using her fingers to depict legs.
Cocking her head to one side, Chiana turned to face the girl. "Why am I...why am I pacing?" She shook her head, causing her hair to tickle the back of her neck. "I don't know, Bel, I just...I'd rather be over there." She made a sharp gesture with her head toward the viewscreen.
"Why you not?" Belima asked, stepping into the room to stand beside Chiana.
"Because there aren't enough EVA suits and there's no atmosphere on that ship." And so she was stuck here, with nothing to frelling do until the others returned. Reyna didn't want her help in the med facility, Pilot had asked her to leave his den earlier because she couldn't sit still, so she had come here, where she could at least watch out the viewscreen, even if there wasn't anything to see.
"Eee vee ay suit. At-mo-sphe-er." Belima tested the unfamiliar words, over-pronouncing each syllable. She looked a question at Chiana, who was glad for the distraction.
"An EVA suit is...is clothes that let you...let you breathe when there's no air." The blond head nodded as Belima concentrated on filing away what Chiana said. "Atmosphere is air."
"John and To-kar over there?" She pointed to the other Leviathan.
"Mm hmm." Chiana flopped down into the chair by the main control console, black eyes focused again on the derelict.
"They come back here?"
Chi rolled her head on the back of the chair to look at Belima. The girl had come a long way in the weekens they had been on Rohvu- it was hard to believe that the pretty blond girl she looked at now was the same creature that had followed Crichton around like a vorc for the first few days he and Chiana had been here.
"Yeah, Bel, they're coming back here. Soon, I hope." Black eyes returned to the view screen and its vista.
xxx
Reyna hummed a childhood tune as she moved about the medical facility, putting the various drugs and chemical components into a more logical order and, in the process, making room for anything that might be obtained from the stores of the Leviathans through which Tokar and the others searched. She had no idea what they might find, but Rohvu's medical stores were so depleted that just about anything would help. She made quick work of straightening and organizing, since half the work - inventory - had been done much earlier with Chiana's help.
Wiping down a countertop, a smile crossed her scarred face as she thought of the Nebari girl. Reyna had never known anyone like her. The girl was such a complicated mix of bravado and unease, impudence and reserve, and she thoroughly enjoyed Chiana's company. She thought she understood some of the apparent contradictions in Chiana's personality, given some of the things Crichton had told her of their experiences in the recent past, and she wanted to learn more about both her and Crichton.
Crichton, too, was an interesting specimen. Human, not Sebacean. The only outward difference between the two species wasn't even visual, but rather tactile - Crichton's skin exuded a warmth that was very different from the cool touch of a Sebacean.
"Reyna Val?" Pilot's voice interrupted over the comms, sounding puzzled.
"Yes, Pilot? Is anything the matter?"
"Rohvu's long-range scans have detected a faint signal. I am attempting to boost it as much as I am able, but it is still very faint. However, I have recognized what seem to be several mentions of yourself and Tokar Rhee in the transmission."
"Really?" Unless it was some kind of Peacekeeper wanted beacon, the only ones she could think of that might be discussing herself and Tokar would be their unit. "Pilot, the transmission could be from those who contacted us just before we left Relkor Station. If I were to give you a specific frequency to use, do you think that might help to clear up the signal, if this is indeed them?"
"Perhaps. The frequency that I am picking up is a variant of those used by the Peacekeepers when Rohvu and I were in service."
"How long ago was that?"
"Approximately two cycles."
"Peacekeeper transmission frequencies would have changed at least a dozen or more times in two cycles. That makes it an even stronger possibility that it may be Rashov." That and the fact that our code is based on outdated Peacekeeper frequencies..., she added to herself.
Discarding the rag she had been using to clean the med bay's surfaces, Reyna headed for the door. "Pilot, I'm finished here, for now." She looked around her med bay, at the now neat and orderly countertops, the newly scrubbed walls and floors. "If you don't mind, I'll come visit you."
xxx
Haven't worked that hard in a grolchak's age, Furlow thought as she lowered herself into her bunk. She was anxious to return to work on wormhole theories with Johnny - they had discussed some new ideas during the flights from one Leviathan to another - but she was just too tired and sore to get back to it right now. And they'd be at it again after the sleep cycle, since they'd finally found a living Leviathan, just before returning to Rohvu.
The dead Leviathans they had explored today had yielded DRDs and a handful of pulse weapons that Tokar had drooled over, but not much else. Oh, sure, they were able to haul back some spare parts for various mechanical Leviathan systems and even for making repairs to transport pods, but they hadn't found any of the frelling pods themselves, since most of them had broken down long since, when their parent Leviathan died. Not that she really gave a chorn's eema about transport pods - she couldn't get one back to DamBaDa on her own anyway - but Rhee had been running on about modifying one for long-range travel and getting back to his unit.
Furlow sighed in contentment, thinking about the drive component she had snurched from a workbench that would do just that for her own ship. Once installed, it ought to take her back to DamBaDa without a hitch, provided she could store enough fuel. The Peacekeeper hadn't realized what the device was when they were searching for parts and Johnny, who she was sure would've recognized it, hadn't been anywhere nearby.
She was just on the edge of sleep, visions dancing through her head of flying her Farscape Two down a wormhole, when Pilot's voice broke into her relaxed cocoon. "Furlow? Would you be available to assist me with a signal?"
She jerked awake, smacking one hand into a bulkhead. At first she thought it might have been hard enough to have broken a knuckle, but after a few microts she was able to move the pained joint.
"Furlow?"
"What is it, Pilot? I'm trying to get some sleep. Did you work out a deal with that other Pilot?"
"Not yet, Furlow. I apologize if I woke you, but I need your assistance to boost a transmission that Rohvu and I picked up earlier today."
Her interest piqued, Furlow asked, "What kind of transmission?"
"It was on a modified Peacekeeper frequency. I believe that it has something to do with Reyna Val and Tokar Rhee."
"Modded Peacekeeper frequency, huh?" She sat upright and swung her bare legs over the side of her bunk, simultaneously reaching for the puddle that was her jumpsuit, abandoned on the floor. "Send it through to my ship, Pilot, I'll go take a look at it and see what I can do."
xxx
Having forwarded the transmission to Furlow's ship, Pilot forced himself to contact the other ship, the only other living ship he had yet discovered in the sacred burial space.
"Elder, I give you good greeting." Pilot was unsure if his transmission would be received, not knowing how far gone toward death the nearby Leviathan might be, and was pleasantly surprised when his first attempt at communication was received.
"I accept your greeting, Youngling, and offer my own in return." The deep voice was wobbly, but otherwise strong. He had not been referred to as "youngling" in a very long time, but, given the size of the ship - at least three times greater than Rohvu - she must be quite elderly, just as her Pilot sounded to be.
"Your friend appears to be much too young to be here, at our sacred burial space..." Although he asked no questions, as that wouldn't be polite, still the question was inherent in the observation.
"Rohvu is indeed young, Elder, but he is near to death." Pilot hesitated, not knowing how to approach the subject of a transfusion. Deciding the best course was the most direct course, he plunged ahead. "That is why I have contacted you."
"Oh? How may I be of service, Youngling?"
"Elder, I beseech you. Rohvu is dying, but it is not yet his time. As you say, he is young. Young and sometimes impulsive." Again, Pilot hesitated, knowing that what he was about to request might mean the more-or-less immediate death of the other Pilot and his Leviathan companion, if they agreed.
"Go on," the older Pilot ordered, not unkindly.
"Rohvu vented most of his calorics."
"Deliberately?"
"Yes, Elder."
"But the Builders created Leviathans with safeguards against such a thing as suicide. Has that been circumvented?"
"Yes, Elder, I believe that it has. Not deliberately circumvented, but Rohvu and I have been in dire circumstances for nearly two cycles. I believe that the strain has overcome a good deal of his programming."
"I see. What is it that you want from Kala and myself, Youngling?"
"Kala?" Pilot repeated her name almost reverently. Kala and her Pilot were known to most Leviathans and their companions - Kala was one of the first Leviathans created by the Builders. "Never mind what we want, Elder. We have no right to ask."
"If I understand you, Youngling, understand what you have not said, your Rohvu needs calorics to survive and heal and he can only get them from a living Leviathan, yes?"
"We have no right."
There was silence for several moments and Pilot thought that perhaps he should break the connection and move on, search for another who could help them, one not so revered. Before he could act on that thought, the Elder spoke again. "Perhaps you have no right, but it is my right to offer."
"You...would do that?"
"Kala and I are old, Youngling, old and in pain. My own pain is not so much, but Kala's is nearly unbearable, for her and for me." The old voice broke as he continued. "Kala will not let go. We came here ourselves to die more than half a cycle ago, but she will not let go."
Again there was silence for a time. "Youngling."
"Yes, Elder?" Pilot felt a surge of hope.
"Do you believe that your Rohvu will attempt suicide again?"
"Our small crew has modified his systems so that he cannot."
"Ahh... You are also responsible for the lives of those Rohvu carries."
"Yes, Elder."
"You and your crew may have whatever you need from us."
"Even if it causes your death, Elder?" The thought caused Pilot great distressand he feared that he had been unable to keep it out of his voice.
"Do not think of it so much as causing our death, Youngling, as causing our release from pain. I believe you and your Rohvu understand something of unending pain, yes?"
Before Pilot could say another word, the Elder broke off the transmission. Pilot closed his eyes, bowing his head in homage to Kala and her Pilot.