"DESPITE WHAT YOU MAY HAVE HEARD, WE ARE A LEGITIMATE BUSINESS."

Crichton, Miriya and Crais were standing in the Chief Controller's office - that controller a V'rahn, as Miriya informed them, genetically-engineered by the Ashkelon – born bureaucrats and administrators. They were officious, stubbornly single-minded and utterly loyal to the Ashkelon, as the Ashkelon intended.

V'rahn ran every Warlord's businesses, both legal and otherwise. They were androgynes, neither male nor female, and everything about them seemed straight – straight dark hair, straight features, stiff poise and rigid seating. This one was named Lehnkminn. Lehnkminn was firmly in charge, and s/he was eyeing Miriya with some distaste. Lehnkminn's assistant was a swarthy Interion, by the name of Vittiga.

Standing in a corner with her arms folded was a female that looked remarkably like a Nebari. Her skin was a lighter grey than Chiana's and her hair was a dark amber. She was also dressed far more conservatively than anything Chiana would have been caught dead in. As Lehnkminn began a tirade about Peacekeepers to Crais and their general ill-treatment of Leviathans, Crichton leaned over to Miriya, nudged her, pointed discreetly to the female, whispered:

"Hey – is that a Nebari?"

Miriya smiled.

"No, common mistake. That's Shee'ladahalia Muukarhi. She's a Kia'Baa'ri, a distant Nebari genetic cousin species."

"Ah."

"If you want anything done to your Leviathans, you'll be very nice to her." Miriya turned her attention to Lehnkminn, whom was still admonishing Crais over Talyn's condition.

"Stop that! What's your problem? These are legitimate customers."

"Do you think we're fools, Breannados?" Vittiga asked her with disdain. "We're well aware of the identities of these 'legitimate customers', and well aware of the abomination currently parked in Bay 13."

Crichton and Crais took exception to the word, both taking unconscious steps toward the man, and Miriya had to stop both before they said or did anything precipitous. Muukarhi noted it.

"Watch your mouth! That wasn't his fault, and you know that, too."

"Miriya…" a soft voice came from the corner. Muukarhi stepped out. "Do you vouch for these people?"

"Yes. This is a straightforward deal."

"There are specific standards we follow." Lehnkminn said.

"Ah," Crichton said, scorn dripping from his voice. "Codified bigotry, is that it?"

"Ethical standards," Lehnkminn countered, with an identical scorn. "Vittiga is correct. We don't modify Leviathans already modified, and we do not help those who exploit them to turn them into vessels for war – or outlawry."

"Give me a break," Crichton fired back. "The kid out there was the product of tampering, yeah, but he's not to blame for it. The other Leviathan that we've got coming in a day or so is free – no collars, no compulsion."

"I know who you are," Vittiga spat. "John Crichton – you're an outlaw, a fugitive and a criminal."

"You shouldn't believe all the propaganda you see and hear, boy." He walked up to Crais, slapped an arm around him. "This is the sumbitch responsible for Talyn out there – my boy Former Peacekeeper Captain Bialar Crais." Crichton laid a big smooch on his head, which Crais suffered in silence. It wasn't the first time this had happened. "And I'm only a criminal as far as the Peacekeepers are concerned. Do the Ashkelon kiss PK ass?"

"They do not," Lehnkminn said, completely offended by the idea.

"And you shouldn't buy their crap, either." Crichton snapped at him, releasing Crais. He tossed a flimsy on Lehnkminn's desk, who eyed it as if it would bite.

"What's this?"

"Our Pilot's list of upgrades – and the damage assessment on Talyn." Crichton then picked up a large sack that he'd brought with him, tossed it on the desk. It was heavy and loud. "That's to get you started."

Lehnkminn looked over the list, started to look surprised, glanced up at Crichton.

"I haven't seen what's on it, also don't care what's on it. I just want them both healthy, able and safer. Now, does that fit into your ethics?"

Lehnkminn glared up at him for a moment, looked back over the list.

"It's legit, isn't it? Am I wrong?"

"No. You are not wrong." Lehnkminn eyed Crichton for a moment, rose. "Very well. These are upgrades and reconstructions that the Leviathans themselves want?"

"Feel free to ask them yourself."

"We will, I can assure you." S/he handed Crichton a tablet, pointed to a spot. "Press a digit there."

Crichton looked it over.

"It's just a standard contract."

Crichton just quirked an insolent smile at him, handed it back to Crais, who began to read it out loud.

"Well? Do you understand and comply?"

Crichton looked at Crais, ignoring the V'rahn until Crais finished reading. He looked back at him with raised eyebrows.

"That's a standard contract?" Crichton asked. The thing had more provisos in it than the prenuptial agreement between two career corporate lawyers.

"Yes." Vittiga said, all officiousness.

"The hell. I want a quote before I sign anything. Not a price list at the end when it's all said and done and I can't object."

Shee'ladahalia Muukarhi stepped forward then. She looked very calm.

"We cannot say until we've had the chance to examine them thoroughly." She sent Crichton an appraising look. "Surely you understand that."

Crichton returned the look.

"I understand a jerk-job when I see one, yeah." It was their turn to bristle. "Our Pilot was very specific, and Crais gave you a detailed workup of what's wrong with Talyn – so what the frell is the problem?"

Muukarhi smiled at him.

"It will be reasonable."

Crichton looked at her then at Miriya who nodded. He took the tablet back from Crais, grabbed Crais' wrist and pressed his thumb on the spot indicated, handed it back to Lehnkminn.

"This way." Muukarhi said. "I will be overseeing all the repairs and upgrades on your Leviathans."

They followed her out, Crais behind Shee'ladahalia, Miriya with Crichton.

"A few further questions." She said, as they went down the corridor. "Does this Talyn have a Pilot?"

"No," Crais said. "I communicate with him via a direct neural interface."

She stopped her whole manner suddenly concerned.

"May I see it, please?"

He turned, showed her.

"It will have to be removed." She said at once. "All of it. If he wishes to make you another after he is repaired, that will be his choice. You cannot stay connected to him during his repairs." She took a closer look at it. "It is very crude. Given time this transceiver will damage you – and it has probably contributed to your Leviathan's deterioration as well. Work cannot begin on him until it is removed, so I suggest you proceed to our surgery as soon as possible."

Crais glanced at Crichton.

"I will have to inform Talyn of that myself. At the moment, he will not believe it coming from anyone else."

She nodded. "Very well. The sooner the better."

They finally entered the controller office off the docking bay, and the Kia'Baa'ri went in, retrieved a sheave of papers, came back out.

"The initial scan report on your Leviathan," she told them, looking it over. "Extensive neural degeneration. You did well bringing him here. Neural repair is my speciality." She read on. "May I assume that the neural overlay we've detected are your mental patterns?" Crais nodded. "An interesting stop-gap. It is a miracle that Talyn is still functioning – the damage is frightfully extensive."

"That's why we're here," Crichton told her. "Can he be fixed?"

"Yes. It will not be easy but it can be done. We will be able to retain much of his personality, though he will not be the same. There will be differences. Many of his neural linkages have deteriorated to the point where they cannot be re-grown. They will have to be replaced with grafts. Many of his sub-systems will also have to be repaired or replaced."

Another Sebacean from the office stepped out, handed her a tablet and then disappeared.

"You have sufficient funds for us to repair and rehab Talyn. There was not enough in that bag for both your Leviathans, however."

"There's more on Moya." Crichton said. "As soon as she drops our Interion on Ej'djem Reach, she'll be coming here."

"'Your' Interion?"

"We found her." He smirked. Muukarhi shrugged.

"Captain Crais – your transceiver."

Crais put his hand on it.

"Very well, I will inform Talyn. Excuse me."

Crais headed down the docking tube to re-board Talyn. They waited and a quarter of an arn later, Crais returned. He stepped out to ask Muukarhi:

"Where is your surgery?"

She pointed down another corridor.

"That way. Neela Dooma will show you."

She gestured to another woman, who indicated that he should follow her. He looked at Crichton, seemed to hesitate.

"It's for his own good."

"You are correct, of course."

He sighed, followed Neela Dooma.

"He cares for Talyn." Muukarhi observed, watching him go.

"He made him. He'd better." Crichton regarded the neural specialist. "When can you start?"

"Talyn will be anaesthetized and then we will take a more complete inventory of his systems. If you have any personal belongings you require or a ship, I suggest you remove them now. You will not be able to go back onboard during the anaesthetizing process. It is lethal for anyone not a Leviathan."

"Fine." He started walking toward Talyn. They followed him. Muukarhi turned to Miriya, who was still looking at Crichton.

"How did you find Dovanni Notia, Miriya?"

"Oh, same as always. Navria sends her regards. Their substation purrs now."

Muukarhi nodded, and Crichton turned off from them once they were onboard, to check Talyn's command for any communications from Moya – just in case. Granted, there wasn't much they could do if there was trouble, but you never knew.

Shee'ladahalia and Miriya continued on to Talyn's hanger.

"You are keeping interesting company, Miriya." Shee'ladahalia said after he had gone from earshot.

"Not the first outlaw I've ever met, y'know."

"John Crichton…" Muukarhi mused. "…is not just any outlaw, if the stories are to be believed."

"No… he's not. He's… different, to say the least."

Shee'ladahalia eyed her with suspicion, a knowing look.

"You are incorrigible."

Miriya smiled and put her hands up, all innocence.

"What? All I said was that he's different!"

Shee'ladahalia just shook her head, amused.

"Of course." She examined the corridor as they passed through it. "This is the most unique Leviathan I have ever seen."

"Definitely unique." Miriya agreed. "I had a brief look at some of his schematics on the way. You would not believe the weapon system potentiality he possesses. Even naturally-generated defence shields - eventually. He's a bit young yet, though."

"No Leviathan should have weapons. None." Muukarhi sighed. "Lehnkminn very likely agrees with Vittiga – about this vessel being an abomination."

"Vittiga's a stupid fekkik. The project was an abomination, Shee. This Leviathan had no control over his birth, or what he is. Someone forced it on him. Do we blame the rape victims now?"

"No, no - of course not." Shee'ladahalia agreed. "We will help him, if we can."

They arrived at the hanger and Miriya led the way up to her ship.

"I see you've finished it, finally."

"A damn thing of righteous beauty, isn't he?"

Shee'ladahalia smirked at her friend.

"If you like Peacekeeper design aesthetics."

Her attitude was that she did not.

"It works. Wanna take a run with me?"

"Some other time. We'll be starting on this Leviathan right away."

Miriya nodded, headed up the ramp onto her ship.

"One thing, Shee. Crichton really does regard these ships as individuals and his friends. He's serious to the bone - and rather touchy about them."

"That is very unusual." She checked her pad. "Do you like him?"

Miriya stopped but did not turn around. She sighed.

"More than I probably should." She continued into the ship, told the walls therein, "More than is good for me, no doubt."

CRAIS FOUND CRICHTON IN THE ACCOMMODATIONS PROVIDED FOR THE CREWS OF THE LEVIATHANS ON THE STATION.

It was several arns later, perhaps half the day. He was still feeling a bit peculiar without the Hand of Friendship and the silence in his head where Talyn used to be. Talyn had told him that, hopefully, he would be in a better position after his repairs to fashion him a better one.

"Yo, Crais – " Crichton called to him as he entered. "Neck sore?"

"Yes." Crais sat on one of the couches in the small living area.

"It'll heal up by the time Talyn's done. You up for a little trip?"

"So soon?" Crichton nodded. "Where? What is the problem?"

"The kid, of course. You heard Shee'ladahalia. Talyn's neural linkages can't be re-grown, and he is going to need grafts – and they don't have any here. Nothing they can use, anyway."

"Are you suggesting we find another Leviathan and harvest new ones?"

"Don't be an idiot. Of course not." Crichton paused. "Well, not exactly. Miriya had an idea of how they can go about it. It sounds doable."

"Where is Breannados, may I ask?" He said, looking around the room.

"She has her own quarters here, Crais."

"Ah. What was her idea?"

"Go to Kaltya Yaryn - the Leviathan Burial Space. Find a Leviathan near death and ask for a donation, or one just freshly dead – sounds ghoulish, but it's that or nothing. Shee'ladahalia agrees that that's the only ethical thing to do, even if it is still a bit dodgy. It's that or the kid stays the way he is – and I think you don't really want him completely rewired, which is the only other alternative."

"No. It would take cycles for him to recover – and he would no longer be Talyn."

"Exactly."

"When do you wish to leave?"

"As soon as. I'm not going. You are. We're going to wait here for Moya. I figured the least you can do is get the tissue." He saw Crais' droop, his drawn face. "You need sleep?"

Crais nodded, feeling very weary and discouraged.

"You can sleep on the way. You and Shee'ladahalia and a small team of techs will be going in one of the station's transports."

"Very well. Do I have time to at least clean up and refresh myself?"

Crichton nodded to the back.

"Yeah – go ahead. Head to Hanger three-three-five when you're done. Take a gun."

Crais hauled himself up, trudged to the refresher, said "I shall be there as soon as I can," closed the door.

Crichton eyed the door for a moment. Life in the Uncharteds just got more and more interesting by the day. Go to Kaltya Yaryn and ask one of the dying behemoths if it wouldn't mind them borrowing a chunk of its brain and nervous system.

He chuckled to himself.

Hell – it beat fighting traffic and paying the mortgage, huh, Johnny?

Crichton sighed internally as he continued on. Sitting around waiting was not something for which he any longer had the patience. He'd done that already, it had gotten him nothing, just left behind.

Hell – maybe he deserved to be left behind. He hadn't been born on Earth, but on a dying Leviathan, just a bastard son of an psycho brain-eater.

Well, then.

I'm a nothing that can be anything.

He halted dead in his tracks. The thought - the reminder - froze him with its simplicity.

That… that's power, right there. Right there.

I'm the copy, so all the things that had happened before his birth had nothing to do with him. He was only nine monens or so old. Just a frelling baby.

Agreements, partnerships, allies – those were John's.

If he wasn't the real Crichton, none of that applied.

D, Chi, Ryge, they all went out of their way to treat him like a Crichton, and that was to their credit and he appreciated it. But…

Not John Crichton.

Just Kaarvok's Creature.

He could be anything.