CRICHTON AND MIRIYA RAN, KOIBAN HOT ON THEIR HEELS.
Behind them, far behind them, the siren wails of local firefighting, local law enforcement. It had been a close thing, that ambush. Crichton bore a sharp pain in his leg and finally called again for a halt, sure they had out-distanced any pursuers. Miriya agreed, then she promptly flopped to the pedway, gasping.
"Dammit, Crichton!"
"Bounty hunters," he panted, "frelling figures! I knew it didn't smell right."
Koiban looked barely winded. He pointed at Crichton.
"Shall I look at that? You have an object sticking in your arm."
"Yeah, if you would."
Koiban bent close. He carefully removed the splinter and rolled up Crichton's sleeve. A slight trickle of blood ran from the wound the splinter had made. Koiban dressed the minor wound from a small kit at his belt.
"It is nothing serious. A splinter."
He held it up. Crichton took it, looked it over. It was a light tan, three hentas long, with a barbed tip, stiff, barely thicker than a hair.
"Not a splinter. Those hunters – whatever they were – zapped us with these. A lot of these. I think they're… quills."
Koiban blinked, looked at it again. Miriya slowly climbed to her feet.
"Se'em'aari." Koiban intoned, as if it were something mystical.
"No way." Miriya panted in disbelief beside them.
"Seema-what?" Crichton asked.
"Not your typical bounty hunters." Koiban told him. "They operate as a Triad – three sisters – and they don't give up." Koiban scratched his chin, thinking hard. "As to who could send them… well, they are far from cheap. They will not work for just anyone. I only know of them because D'Strand'm'tah has hired them on occasion." He took the quill back from Crichton. "They are covered – the females anyway – with these spines – quills – and they have immensely fine control over them. They have millions of them – and they re-grow very quickly." He sniffed the end of the quill then rubbed it with his fingers. "Hmmm. Mild soporific. Meant to slow you down."
"Well, it's working. I kinda already feel twenty kilos heavier."
Koiban nodded, reached into a pocket, pulled out a pill.
"Take this. It'll counter it."
Crichton eyed it, shrugged, swallowed.
"It'll take a bit to work. We should proceed."
"We're getting farther from the port, I'm noticing." Miriya said, scanning behind them.
"And D, Chi, Ryge and Jool." Crichton added, feeling the 'weight' in his body ease off a smidge. Koiban turned, crossed the roadway, to the other pedway and a small kiosk. He ran a finger along it and it lit up.
"We are near the Workers' District. Follow me."
Koiban led the way, Crichton just shrugged and followed. Miriya sighed and followed him, glad at least that they weren't running. By the time they had stopped again, Crichton felt normal. Koiban stopped at a structure that reminded Crichton of a tollbooth.
"Do either of you have currency?" He asked. Both nodded. "Three chits for Five Sector." He told the tollbooth. The booth quick-scanned them and then said,
"Ten krindars per ticket." Koiban looked at them expectantly, and they each handed over ten.
"What was that scan?" Miriya asked.
"Currency determination." Koiban told her, stuffing the currency into a slot. "Which kind we were carrying that could cover the cost."
"Handy," Crichton said.
"What's in Five Sector?" Miriya asked.
"A ship port."
"A private ship port?" Crichton asked. A nod answered him. "Good. Let's go."
Koiban again led the way and Miriya allowed him a few paces before she grabbed Crichton's arm, pulling him up short.
"Should we be trusting him this blindly?" She enquired, watching his back descending down the access to the transport system.
"Not his fault the quill chicks showed up. Besides, if he gets me to D and the others, what the hell. Can always shoot the bastard if he's frellin' with us." Crichton propelled her after Koiban. "Now quitcherbitchen."
A hard slap on her posterior made her yelp and soured her mood even further. Crichton stayed in his odd mood for the entire trip and it was Koiban who apologized.
"Sorry – I employed a wide spectrum counteragent. It usually has no adverse effects on a Sebacean."
"He's not a Sebacean."
"Oh. Interesting." He looked at Crichton's pupils. They were dilated – slightly. "He'll shake it off soon enough."
Miriya sighed again, rubbed the spot between her eyes. She really didn't need this dren. Fortunately, Crichton was himself by the time they'd left the transport and hired a conveyance to take them to the ship port.
A V'rahn met them at the entrance, backed by half-a-dozen Constables - and Koiban recognized it. It had been the same V'rahn that had 'purchased' Chiana earlier, P'tahrah.
"Evigan Koiban." P'tahrah indicated him with a haughty finger. "You have been summoned, though you were not where you had been commanded to stay."
"That was entirely outside of my control." Koiban told P'tahrah, not liking the V'rahn one bit. He gestured to Crichton and Miriya.
"You are Crichton." P'tahrah said, glaring.
"I know who I am." Crichton reposted with a smirk.
"You are Miriya Breannados." P'tahrah said in mild surprise. "The Master will be most pleased you have deigned to come and see him, after so many requests."
Miriya looked sheepish, as the two males with her looked at her with some suspicion. P'tahrah indicated that they were to follow.
"Look – I've got a Se'em'aari Triad on my tail. Can't this wait?" Crichton asked.
"The Warlord wishes to see you. The bounty hunters are of no concern. Come."
Both Miriya and Koiban shrugged. They followed. This was why they'd come, after all.
"No, hold on, you don't get me. The Triad. That was me asking you and your bully-boys here to get it off my back."
P'tahrah looked at him like he'd just been scraped off a boot.
"No." He resumed walking. "Come. They are of no concern at this time."
Crichton cursed but he followed.
"NO."
"You refuse?"
"Didn't say that. This just isn't the way I do business." Crichton folded his arms, put his feet up, and put on his best disgruntled face. "Why the frell should we all go on a damn suicide mission?"
D'Strand'm'tah glared at the Human.
"I will give you everything you need or ask for - weapons, ships, anything."
"John," D'Argo began, "it's basically a prison break. I've seen the plans to the place, it's actually…"
"So," Crichton leaned forward, interrupting the Luxan, "with the endless wealth you have, with fifty million troops and frell knows how many ships, you specifically came looking for us to free your family? Us?"
"Yes." D'Strand'm'tah said simply.
"Vorc shit." Crichton drew back. "There are probably fifty thousand bounty hunters, combat specialists and ex-soldiers by the hundreds out there," he swung an arm to encompass the moon and all its inhabitants, "and you want us, specifically."
Rygel gave out a dramatic sigh, Jool looked confused, Chiana thoughtful and D'Argo suspicious. Miriya just put her head in her hands. Evigan stayed out of it.
"Yes, you specifically." D'Strand'm'tah said. "I have my reasons."
"I'm all ears."
The Warlord eyes were cold. He was clearly not liking Crichton's attitude.
"Yes, I could have hired those people as you say and I considered it." D'Strand'm'tah put his arms behind his back. "I do my research. I require… finesse. Mercenaries would not show the… care… for which you are famed."
Crichton regarded the guy.
"You think we're professionals?" He barked out a laugh. "You are making one helluva lot of assumptions about our skill here."
D'Strand'm'tah sat and he was remarkably calm although his eyes now blazed.
"Are you saying your reputation is what - exaggerated? You did not do those things with which you are reputed?"
"No, we did do all that. More or less. They were all clusterfrells from start to finish, if we're being honest."
"You are saying…"
"I'm saying leave my friends out of this," Crichton said abruptly, his voice deadly serious, "this is just you and me now. Following Forms and all that."
There was a general consternation from the others and Crichton just ignored them until they quieted, his eyes never leaving the Warlord. D'Strand'm'tah glared back.
"State your terms," he said quietly.
"You already promised our Leviathans free reign at Abbanerex. That's a start."
"I have said. P'tahrah will personally oversee it." He placed his hands on the table, entwined his fingers. "More?"
"I'll rescue your family – but our Leviathans get everything promised, whether I succeed or not."
D'Strand'm'tah nodded. The price of a pair of Leviathans? Nothing.
"I want my friends very generously compensated for their trouble and escorted back to Abbanerex."
"Oh? How much compensation?" D'Strand'm'tah had decided he didn't like the man in front of him at all.
"Decadently wealthy. Each." He jabbed a thumb at Koiban, who was startled to be included. "Him, too." A smirk. "Give him half of Jool's share." Jool opened her mouth and Chiana clapped a hand over it, shaking her head gravely. Crichton settled back in his chair. "Nothing to you."
"Yes." A nod. "Nothing to me." Didn't like this man at all. "For you?"
"I heard someone mention 'whatever you want' when I got here. I'll take that."
Unnoticed, Miriya looked up and she was studying Crichton with new eyes.
D'Strand'm'tah gave him a hard look, assessing. Crichton let him look. After several long and tense moments, the Warlord nodded.
"Very well." They stood. "As we are following Form, allow me to say - if you somehow return without them, you will never again be able to go near an inhabited system for the rest of your natural life. Your bounty would beggar whole systems. Be assured you would never again know a moment's peace."
"Standard negotiated threat." Crichton waved that away. "Got it."
"You will go immediately. There is little time. You are certain you will go alone?"
"Immediately." He seemed to consider. "I'll give you a list of what I'll need."
"John…" D'Argo interrupted, "we'll help you."
Chiana was nodding at his side.
"No, D." Crichton drew him aside. "You have other responsibilities. Moya and Talyn especially need you. They don't have much time, either."
"You can't do it alone!"
"D - I'm not doing it alone." Crichton nodded to Miriya and Koiban. "I'll take some his Constables and flunkies."
D'Argo shook his head.
"Them? What do you know about either? No, John. We can…"
"D. What you're doing is more important. I'm just gonna go get the resources to get it done right." He winked at his Luxan friend. "Besides, you're all already rich. Go enjoy it. I'll be back before you know it."
"I don't like it."
D'Argo seemed like he'd just tongue Crichton and carry him off for a moment.
"D. I can do this. It'll work out."
"How can you be sure? Can you?"
"Hell no. Never stopped me before, did it? Things are different, trust me. I'm not the Crichton who left six monens ago. I learned a few things, all right? Now trust me and frell off."
"Time waits for none of us," D'Strand'm'tah reminded him.
"Keep your overpriced shorts on," Crichton snapped back, "just keep your end up." He gestured to his friends. "Send 'em on their way, yeah?"
D'Strand'm'tah indicated his Constables were to lead them away. They complained, they tried to argue, but in the end they left.
"Make 'em rich, fix my Leviathans. Right?"
"Correct."
"All right then," Crichton walked around the table, grabbed a flabbergasted Miriya and a stunned Koiban around the shoulders as if they were about to pose for a photo. "Here's what we need…"
