THE TRANSMISSION WAS RELAYED WITH DUE DISPATCH, and Crichton was muttering to himself as he stalked down the corridor.
It of course frelling figured. Not on the surface for a full frelling arn…
He barged in on Miriya in her quarters. She was rather casually dressed, especially for her, very femininely attired, in silky soft blues and grey materials which did nothing but flatter her. She was comfortably at her computer station - not station regular - PK tech.
Not so unusual, he supposed, but everyone else seemed content with the local hardware. He gave her the benefit of doubt and chalked it up to Miriya's less-than-legit business practices.
"What?" She asked, a bit sharply as he entered. She'd not expected visitors, and certainly not ones with no sense of how one entered someone's quarters. It being Crichton mollified her initial irritation.
"D'Argo called. Chiana's gone missing. Something to do with some Warlord 'buying' her." Miriya sat back, crossed her arms with a smile.
"How long were they on the surface?"
"About an arn."
"That sounds about right for you people. He wants help, I take it?"
"Yeah. I need a ship. He wants Moya to come back here for her upgrades and still go after Chiana." Miriya rose, stepped deeper into her apartments.
"I'll help you." She started shedding her soft clothes for more practical ones. On her way back out, she grabbed a duffel and stuffed various items into it. "My part in this upgrade won't be for a while, anyway."
She saw that Crichton hadn't followed her.. He was waiting by her computer console. She blinked, and said, casually, "We can leave whenever you like."
He nodded with a sharp jerk of his head.
"Good. Sooner than later."
"I'll have to clear it with Lehnkminn. Someone should be here to represent your group."
"There will be."
Crichton stalked off, and Miriya followed, pausing only to close and lock her console, wondering what else was on his mind. In less than an arn, they were underway in The Edge.
Crichton was going over D'Argo's transmission again, distances meaning that there wasn't any meaningful two-way communication.
"Miriya – does the name 'D'Strand'm'tah of the Sevarant Clan' ring any bells?" He asked, after the third listen.
Miriya whistled at the name.
"D'Strand'm'tah of the frelling Sevarant Clan controls the entire Reach. All of it. That's twenty-three Commerce moons. With those finances he can do pretty much whatever he wants." She paused, seemed to try and encompass such wealth. "As Warlords go, he has a reputation of being reasonable."
"And a goddamned thief." Crichton growled.
"Well, that goes without saying." Miriya said with some amusement. "We'll be there in a few arns. Relax."
Crichton huffed out a breath, sat. He put his feet up and closed his eyes.
"Good," she said. "Best thing for you until we get there."
"Yell when we do." He muttered, and Miriya nodded even though he couldn't see her.
Crichton wasn't paying attention to her any longer, anyway.
"Is it just me," Harvey was saying, "or has this gone a little too smoothly?"
He was "walking" idly about the pilot deck.
"Of course it has. That's the point."
"The point to what?"
"Fate. Or something."
There was a dry chuckle from Harve.
"Come now, John – you live in one very large self-fulfilling prophecy, guided by the immutable law of your Mr. Murphy."
Crichton grinned a lopsided grin.
"What can go wrong will, huh? Par for the course, as evidenced. There's no point in trying to anticipate it. I'd never get anything done."
Harve nodded, "wandered" over to him.
"Oukka-level command codes." He said to no one in particular.
"Yup." Crichton pursed his lips. "Later."
Harve sighed.
"Tell me something – your counterpart in Crichton tried to take over before he got his ass erased. Why haven't you?"
"What would be the point? Doubtless, in that other instance, that Crichton was on the verge of having all of his wormhole knowledge unlocked. It proved too great a temptation to my 'other'."
"Since that's unlikely with me, you don't have that particular temptation?"
"Different experiences." Harve settled himself against a bulkhead. "The other Crichton fought my counterpart almost constantly – I would prefer to believe we have managed to strike a balance."
Crichton sighed, clucked his tongue.
"I still don't want you in my head."
"Of course not, but I can be of use to you. Even if it is in this 'employee' role of yours. You have nothing to fear from me. Honestly."
"Really? Why is that? Why should I believe you?"
Harvey seemed to look introspective then.
"If I may be candid, I find myself enjoying this particular existence. I did not think I would. I may be a copy of a copy of Scorpius' neural patterns, but I am not Scorpius, nor am I the other. Existing in your consciousness has given me experiences he would not have. I find myself …changing because of them. Scorpius has had very little in the way of experience with what he might term the 'frivolous' things in life, but I discovered that they have a rather significant importance."
"'Joy in the mundane', huh? I told you, it's my head. I want information when I want it – not when you feel like doling it out. Once and for all, I rule here."
"Certainly. I am perfectly willing to simply be, as it were. I believe that in exchange for you permitting my continued existence, I can be of great use to you. I offer what knowledge I have willingly."
Crichton nodded back at him.
"That's a start."
"I have all of Scorpius' knowledge – up until the time he implanted me. It was a calculated risk on his part, but then, I was never meant to remain as long as I did. I will abide by your wishes."
"All just for me allowing you to stick around and 'experience'?"
"Yes."
Crichton went back to his 'nap' posture.
"I'll think about it."
"Oh, one other thing… being cavalier about certain… things may be dangerous."
"I'm taking this very seriously, Ghosty. It isn't time yet."
Harvey nodded, vanished.
Crichton cracked his eyes, watched Miriya calmly pilot, leaned back and got comfortable.
It was going to be an interesting day.
