Chiana entered Maintenance Bay Two hesitantly; still unsure on what she planned to say.
The Wraith Stealth ship sat parked on it's landing skids just before the huge hanger doors that led out into Moya's even more massive landing bay. The flat black craft was larger than a prowler but not quite as big as a Transport Pod. The retractable folding wings with their stealth surveillance equipment gave her the impression of some sort of bird-of-prey, indeed the ship did look as if it sitting on the deck waiting for some unsuspecting quarry to pounce on. While Peacekeeper in manufacture, it almost could have been Scarran in design. Chiana realized she was using her inspection of the spacecraft to unconsciously delay her task, so she squared her slim shoulders and continued the rest of the way into the bay.
The portside engine cowling was propped open and the Nebari girl could plainly see the Shrike leaning inside, busily making some type of adjustments to the engine nacelle.
The ex-assassin's back was turned toward her and Chiana wasn't sure if that were a blessing or not. It gave her another brief respite if only for a few more microts from facing the man she'd been mostly avoiding for the last several solar days now.
The young Nebari thief paused for a moment to take a deep breath to reinforce herself for what she had to do, and then made her way over to the tall man and his ship.
Chiana's eyes were practically healed except for an occasional soreness after a few arns, so she was able to make her way across the tool-cluttered bay without stumbling over anything with her usual thief-trained grace. Berret must have been engrossed in whatever preparations he was making because he didn't seem to notice the Nebari girl's arrival until she was about a Prowler's length away from him. The only sign he allowed himself when her presence did register was a momentary straightening and stiffening of his back as he ceased working for a few heartbeats. She had a feeling that he seemed to be debating with himself about turning to face her and she thought that notion correct when he shifted his weight as if getting ready to back out of the engine compartment. Berret moved only a bare henta but then paused, it was clear that he decided to continue on with his work, possibly thinking that she had come down to the maintenance bay on some unrelated errand of her own. He leaned slightly back under the engine cowling again and picked up where he left off with his current undertaking, leaving her to make the next move or continue on with whatever task brought her into the bay.
Chiana fought the urge to shuffle her feet like a nervous little girl. She had come with another large appeal to request of the Shrike that she knew she shouldn't be asking, and she wasn't really sure how he would respond despite her assurances to the others that Berret would grant her one last favor if she asked.
After Jool had come aboard, the crewmates had spent countless arns planning their next move. They formed and discarded so many ideas that the gray girl had lost track and this last final plan was the best they could come up with.
The next phase of the operation could be very touchy and get very dangerous if they weren't careful. If they tipped their hand at all, Scorpius and the Peacekeepers would have their heads on a bantomik sticks. It would be even worse if the Scarrans somehow got wind of it. And given their luck normally, let alone how it was running lately, that was a good possibly of froth-mouth lizard faces showing up too.
If the plan they had come up with were to succeed at all... they were going to need Berret's help in stacking the odds more in their favor as they carried it out.
Chiana also knew very well that after what had passed between the two of them, she really didn't have the right to request anything more of Berret... or if she wanted to, knowing what she now knew about him.
Still he was their best option and they needed his assistance one final time. She just hoped that asking for his aid again wouldn't lead to more needless deaths.
Deaths and violence she knew she would be responsible for unleashing if it all turned wrong.
There was no other choice for John and Aeryn's sake but to do what she had come down to the bay to do, so she might as well get on with it.
"Berret?" she called tentatively from behind him, trying not to stumble over the name she had given him in her apprehension. He stiffened ever so slightly again at her voice.
"Yes?" he responded in a neutral tone a few microts later. He paused once more in his work, cocking his head a little in her direction, but still not turning all the way around to look at her. His hands were still busy with something inside the engine compartment.
"How's everything coming?" she asked, attempting to sound bright and casual. She then bit her lower lip and cursed herself for how the question actually came out sounding. It made it seem to her ears that she was asking for an update because she was anxious to have him leave.
Berret abruptly turned back to where he had been working and began making more adjustments to something she couldn't see inside the engine compartment.
Chiana knew then that her blurted words had sounded exactly as she thought they did to Berret also.
"The Wraith's A.I. unit is performing a preflight systems check," he replied in a business-like manner. "I am making a fine adjustment on the after-burner fuel-mix injector in this engine. I should be ready to depart within an arn."
"Ah... I see..." said Chiana pensively, she had narrowly timed her visit and pending request as it turned out. "There's something I want to talk to you about. About you leaving that is." With his back to her, she couldn't get a hint as to what he might have been thinking... or more likely what he might have let slip for a split microt as the ex-Enforcer normally showed little on his face.
Instead the Shrike seemed to become even more immersed with what he was doing at her statement.
"Within the arn is the best I am able to do," he told her absently while still tinkering.
Chiana frowned with the ever-increasing sinking feeling she felt. Berret had again taken her statement to mean that she wanted him gone off Moya as soon as possible.
"No, that's not what I came down here for," she countered and took a step closer to him. "I need to talk to you, and I need you to turn around and look at me."
Something clanked inside the cowling as some tool Berret was using slipped. The ex-assassin exhaled slightly as if becoming annoyed with the work and the interruption. Chiana wasn't fooled by what to someone else might have only been a subtle and seemingly common appearance. She might not have been able to see the incidents with her own eyes at the time, but she did recall several occasions where Berret had put on the facade of emotions when the situation called for him to mimic them. It was part of the way he could camouflage himself in a group of people if need be. The very fact he put on the slight "irritated" act told Chiana that on some level she was unsettling the man - and she wasn't sure if that was good or bad.
"I am very busy, Chiana," Berret explained. "I have to finish this adjustment if I wish to leave on my schedule. You are now well and almost healed, you have the means of restoring your shipmates, I am no longer required and my business with the Syndicate has waited long enough to be concluded."
"You mean your revenge," Chiana blurted out without thinking. She bit her tongue an instant later and wished she could take the comment back. Antagonizing the Shrike would not get her his aid.
"Yes," was all Berret said in return from under the engine cowling.
She moved the rest of the way over to the still working Shrike and tentatively laid a hand on his back. She felt his muscles tense in response. She had been attempting to let her instincts guide her with handling the Shrike but she wondered if the contact had been another error on her part. It seemed she'd succeeded in botching the meeting from the very moment she walked through the bay doorway she thought to herself.
"I'm sorry," she apologized gently and without thinking about it. Surprisingly in response Berret's muscles became less tense under her fingers. Slightly encouraged, she then continued on, "This is hard enough for me as it is. Please... stop working and look at me."
Berret froze completely for a microt or two, and then reluctantly extracted himself all the way out from under the cowling. He turned to face her once he was free, his face void of expression as usual.
"Thank you," Chiana said to him, the Shrike responded with a small neutral nod of acknowledgement. Her dark eyes turned sad as she looked up at him and made herself get on with the unpleasant task. "I want... I want to tell you, how sorry I am for what happen between us. I never should have said those things - or acted the way I have."
"It is not your fault," Berret replied tonelessly. "I am what I was made to be."
Chiana shook her head. "I know that... I should have always kept that in mind. That it was going to be difficult for you to adjust. And that you came looking for me because you thought I was the only one you could turn too for help... and I let you down."
A quick flare that might have been anger flashed across Berret's eyes. Chiana wasn't too sure she had really caught the look, it had passed so fleetingly. Berret's neutral guise reasserted itself just as quickly.
"I need no one's help," Berret said nonchalantly. "You have done nothing wrong... and owe me nothing."
Chiana knew that wasn't true and that in his way, Berret was trying to absolve her from any of the blame she was feeling. It didn't help make what she had to ask of him any easier.
"A lie?" she asked while looking up at him with searching eyes. A slight smile started to crease her lips; it unexpectedly struck her as extraordinary that the Shrike's first attempt at lying had been to save her feelings.
Her smile just as abruptly died when Berret's empty gaze told her he failed to recognize the significance.
"As you wish," the Shrike replied, letting her know that it didn't matter if she accepted his statement at face value or not.
She momentary looked away from the ex-Enforcer. It was then she understood that Berret had given up in some way. At one time he might have made an attempt to understand what she found engaging about his comment, now he just stood there, blankly waiting for her to continue. She had dealt Berret an unforeseen blow by refusing his offer to leave Moya with him, made worse when she revealed her desire to stay with D'argo. Then she had asked him to help steal the bio-reconstruction device from the prison - only to be shocked by what he had done to accomplish that goal for her.
Their reunion had been far from perfect.
And she knew without doubt that she had failed him at every turn - including her promise of being his friend.
Their confrontation after the events on Qujagan world had only crushed what remaining hope he held for himself. Now Berret seemed to be turning more cold and stone-like by the arn. Withdrawing further into himself, sliding backwards into that machine-like thing the Syndicate had made of him.
Now here she was about to betray him in a way once again, to use him once more after she had practically slapped him in the face and turned her back on him after what he had done to achieve the goal she herself asked of him.
With excruciating pain she realized she had no other choice but to use him again.
Rygel had been wrong. With all the immoral things she done in her past, what she was about to do in the next few moments would far outstrip them all as being the worse thing she'd ever done.
She turned pain-filled eyes back to the man, only to find he had gone back to working on the Wraith's engine while she contemplated her thoughts. Apparently he finished whatever he was doing, as she saw him reconnected some sort of cable, then withdraw a few tools from the compartment before closing the cowling and locking it down.
"Berret, I..." she started as he turned around again. He paused, gazing at her with eyes as blue as ice. In a sudden rush what she needed came pouring out of her. The Shrike listened, showing no emotion or particular interest. When she finished her story and crucial request, the ex-assassin simply gave her a one-word answer.
Chiana nodded numbly at his response, then turned and silently headed for the maintenance bay doorway.
Outside in the corridor and out of sight from the Shrike, she paused to lean weakly up against a bulkhead; her sore eyes began to haze with sadness.
She had completed the unpleasant task to the best of her ability and would now suffer the consequences for all she had done. After all that had passed between them, she had been a fool to think Berret would answer in any other way than what he had.
Any other time in the past, it would have been easy for her to go on without a second thought or to feel anything like regret because a desire didn't work out the way she wanted it too. Events sometime never turned out the way you always hoped they would no matter how badly you wanted it.
People came into your life, sometime they left because of things you said or did, sometimes you used them when you had too to survive - sometimes they used you. Sometimes they died... and there was nothing you could do about it even if you tried.
She'd learned long ago that life was rarely if ever fair and to accept it when things got frelled... or just plain crashed and burned.
She wondered why the cold feeling of failure in her stomach and the ache in her heart were so difficult to accept this time?
The Nebari girl headed back to her quarters, not wishing to run into any of her other crewmates after this devastation.
Her shipmates would just have to wait a few microns for the results of her task while she took time to compose herself again.
Berret silently watched the gray girl turn and leave the bay.
It was evident by the slightly stricken look on Chiana's face that the girl was actually hoping for a different answer from the assassin. He knew that coming to him and asking for his assistance once again had been troublesome for the Nebari female, especially after her reaction to what the Hynerian had told her had happened on Qujagan planet.
He vaguely wondered how she could have expected a different response from him?
He turned and moved over to a nearby tool cart and began replacing the tools he had been using. Chiana had asked her petition knowing now how unstable he was becoming by the arn - it was no longer a secret from her. He had seen the look in her eyes while she had confronted him in the corridor outside his temporary quarters.
He slammed a spanner wrench into its compartment.
She knew how he was unable to control the urge to kill. Chiana knew because Rygel had filled her in, in great detail on what he'd witnessed. And still, she had come to ask.
In a sudden blinding rage, he ceased a spike-like tool used to probe circuit connections. The bay filled with a sudden sound of tortured metal as he drove it through the side of the tool chest.
He had seen the horror... the disgust in her eyes when she confronted him about his actions on Qujaga. The pain and loss in her voice as she told him she couldn't stand to be near him. And still... she came there to ask again!
The destruction of the probe tool wasn't satisfying enough. The Shrike curled his fingers tightly and repeatedly pounded the tool chest with his fist, letting the pain fuel his rage and drowned the voice in his head. The metal case groaned and dented under the assault. Berret kept it up until the bones in his hand shattered. Stopping only after the pain of the microbes repairing the damage was just as great as the repeated breaking of his hand against the metal toolbox.
He had seen how she couldn't even bear to be within sight of him these last few solar days... how it must have sickened her to request his help again... how could she think of asking for his help again after Qujaga?
He stepped forward and kicked the cart over, spilling the contents all over the maintenance bay floor.
He panted hard as he recalled the tormented look that Chiana had worn a moment ago, knowing that despite everything that was at stake, everything she now knew about him - she desperately did not wanted to hear the response he had given her. The Nebari had hoped that he'd say something else.
He'd dispassionately watched while the ghost in his mind chuckled with delight as the hope had died in her dark eyes and the bitter grief replaced it.
How could she think a creature such as he could answer any other way?
He forced his heavy breathing to slow as he took back control of himself. His hand was a torrent of pain; he looked downward and could physically see the limb and its digits pulse and mend before his eyes. This was far from normal even for the massive damage he'd done to it. He wondered how long it would be before the microbes burned him out. He decided it wouldn't matter for much longer and then ignored his healing hand.
He turned back to his ship a moment later.
"Wraith?" he asked out loud in a rasping tone.
"On line, Shrike457," the artificial intelligence unit of the craft responded immediately from a speaker in the hatch's in-set control panel.
"Status?"
"Diagnostic check complete. All systems at 100%. Hetch drive system: online. Stealth system: online. Weapons system: online..." the A.I. began to report.
"Stop," the Shrike ordered, "Scan recent adjustments to portside after-burner and report."
"Portside after-burner reports functioning now at 100% efficiency."
"Good," Berret said idly, not actually expecting the ship's computer to reply.
The A.I. made several testing sounds that indicated another task had just been completed.
"Pre-flight checks now complete. Wraith-Class Stealth craft ready for space flight," said the A.I. "Awaiting next orders and/or new mission parameters."
Berret grunted absently and flexed his almost repaired hand. His mending joints audibly cracked and his abused flesh still burned, as did his stomach. The microbes made their usual demand to be fed after rebuilding the limb he so nearly destroyed a few moments earlier. Even their greed was beginning to grow as the Shrike noticed it took more and more protein intake to satisfy them.
That didn't matter either, at least sometimes the pain made the rage and the voice go away for a while, but only sometimes.
"Wraith," Berret said a few microts later, "Cancel pre-flight status and return to stand-by mode."
"Acknowledged, Shrike457," responded the computer immediately. "All systems powering down. Stand-by mode engaging."
Through the open hatchway, Berret could see control panels go dark as the ship shut itself down. He turned back and faced the doorway that Chiana had departed through just microns before.
The inner conflict had been obvious when she requested he stay and help with what they needed, the distress of being forced to ask a killer... a murderer for assistance, and knowing they desperately needed it.
And knowing he'd slaughter more victims if given the chance.
The compunction she felt with his answer had been plainly obvious on her pale features.
He reached inside the hatchway and withdrew a satchel from a storage bin.
Just as he knew a negative answer to her request would leave the crew in dire straits, he also knew that there was no reason for him to stay and help. He did not owe the others anything, including the pair in status that he had never met. And he considered his debt to the Nebari girl paid with what he'd already done so far for her as she healed.
Still Berret could not get the look of anguish on Chiana's face out of his mind when he told her, "Yes."
Some great part of the Nebari girl had wanted him to refuse her appeal.
He had meant to refuse, but when he opened his mouth to speak the words - they wouldn't form.
She had asked and he couldn't say no. Whether it was for her sake, the misguided need to be near her for just a while longer, or for some darker reason only the voice in his mind knew, the Shrike couldn't truly say.
The collar's ghost chortled malevolently in the background of his thoughts.
Berret considered that if Chiana was willing to shoulder the burden of being responsible for what he might do for the sake of her two friends - perhaps the trade was a good one then? There had to be something the gray girl saw in her shipmates that she would make the sacrifice for them... just as she had originally reached out to help him. She had thought there was something worth saving about a Shrike Enforcer who had been assigned to guard her while she awaited a brutal Syndicate execution.
It had not been Chiana's fault that Berret had let her down in her assessment of him.
He was probably going to die anyway, either by the malfunctioning microbes or in his vendetta against Arckatius and the Black Syndicate. How could one man alone hope to win against such a vast underworld organization or against an enemy from within his own body? The best he could hope for was to see the Scarran dead at his feet for a brief moment or die with his hands around Arckatius' throat. Maybe even with the Bat'Rellite blades the Kingpin had given him buried in his own Scarran guts would be just as good also.
It would be better than the slow death the microbes would probably lead him too... if that ranting ghost in his mind didn't drive him totally mad first.
Whatever the final outcome - let the return of Chiana's friends be the one good thing he'd accomplished in his short remembered lifetime... even if it turned out to be the final act of his life. He told himself that if he could leave Chiana with this one last... gift, he would have earned the right to his revenge against the Syndicate. The scales would be balanced in the Goddess' eyes and no one could naysay him, no matter whatever he chose to do to Arckatius and his people.
Then he could die... and be free of his living hezmana... of his feelings for her.
If he could keep the voice and urge under control long enough to do some good. "Do this," he silently bargained with the phantom, "Do this for her without unnecessary havoc... and I'll give you Arckatius and his group to do with as we wish... countless souls and a sea of blood... killing until we can't raise our arms any longer or we drown in the gore we will spill."
The voice liked that deal... it liked the arrangement a lot.
As a after-thought, Berret commed Pilot and asked that the helmsman have the Wraith transferred from the current maintenance bay to a parking bay in the Leviathan's hanger.
His departure would be delayed a little longer.
He picked up the bag with his few belongings and headed out of the chamber to return to his previous quarters, following in the Nebari girl's steps.
The Wraith Stealth ship sat parked on it's landing skids just before the huge hanger doors that led out into Moya's even more massive landing bay. The flat black craft was larger than a prowler but not quite as big as a Transport Pod. The retractable folding wings with their stealth surveillance equipment gave her the impression of some sort of bird-of-prey, indeed the ship did look as if it sitting on the deck waiting for some unsuspecting quarry to pounce on. While Peacekeeper in manufacture, it almost could have been Scarran in design. Chiana realized she was using her inspection of the spacecraft to unconsciously delay her task, so she squared her slim shoulders and continued the rest of the way into the bay.
The portside engine cowling was propped open and the Nebari girl could plainly see the Shrike leaning inside, busily making some type of adjustments to the engine nacelle.
The ex-assassin's back was turned toward her and Chiana wasn't sure if that were a blessing or not. It gave her another brief respite if only for a few more microts from facing the man she'd been mostly avoiding for the last several solar days now.
The young Nebari thief paused for a moment to take a deep breath to reinforce herself for what she had to do, and then made her way over to the tall man and his ship.
Chiana's eyes were practically healed except for an occasional soreness after a few arns, so she was able to make her way across the tool-cluttered bay without stumbling over anything with her usual thief-trained grace. Berret must have been engrossed in whatever preparations he was making because he didn't seem to notice the Nebari girl's arrival until she was about a Prowler's length away from him. The only sign he allowed himself when her presence did register was a momentary straightening and stiffening of his back as he ceased working for a few heartbeats. She had a feeling that he seemed to be debating with himself about turning to face her and she thought that notion correct when he shifted his weight as if getting ready to back out of the engine compartment. Berret moved only a bare henta but then paused, it was clear that he decided to continue on with his work, possibly thinking that she had come down to the maintenance bay on some unrelated errand of her own. He leaned slightly back under the engine cowling again and picked up where he left off with his current undertaking, leaving her to make the next move or continue on with whatever task brought her into the bay.
Chiana fought the urge to shuffle her feet like a nervous little girl. She had come with another large appeal to request of the Shrike that she knew she shouldn't be asking, and she wasn't really sure how he would respond despite her assurances to the others that Berret would grant her one last favor if she asked.
After Jool had come aboard, the crewmates had spent countless arns planning their next move. They formed and discarded so many ideas that the gray girl had lost track and this last final plan was the best they could come up with.
The next phase of the operation could be very touchy and get very dangerous if they weren't careful. If they tipped their hand at all, Scorpius and the Peacekeepers would have their heads on a bantomik sticks. It would be even worse if the Scarrans somehow got wind of it. And given their luck normally, let alone how it was running lately, that was a good possibly of froth-mouth lizard faces showing up too.
If the plan they had come up with were to succeed at all... they were going to need Berret's help in stacking the odds more in their favor as they carried it out.
Chiana also knew very well that after what had passed between the two of them, she really didn't have the right to request anything more of Berret... or if she wanted to, knowing what she now knew about him.
Still he was their best option and they needed his assistance one final time. She just hoped that asking for his aid again wouldn't lead to more needless deaths.
Deaths and violence she knew she would be responsible for unleashing if it all turned wrong.
There was no other choice for John and Aeryn's sake but to do what she had come down to the bay to do, so she might as well get on with it.
"Berret?" she called tentatively from behind him, trying not to stumble over the name she had given him in her apprehension. He stiffened ever so slightly again at her voice.
"Yes?" he responded in a neutral tone a few microts later. He paused once more in his work, cocking his head a little in her direction, but still not turning all the way around to look at her. His hands were still busy with something inside the engine compartment.
"How's everything coming?" she asked, attempting to sound bright and casual. She then bit her lower lip and cursed herself for how the question actually came out sounding. It made it seem to her ears that she was asking for an update because she was anxious to have him leave.
Berret abruptly turned back to where he had been working and began making more adjustments to something she couldn't see inside the engine compartment.
Chiana knew then that her blurted words had sounded exactly as she thought they did to Berret also.
"The Wraith's A.I. unit is performing a preflight systems check," he replied in a business-like manner. "I am making a fine adjustment on the after-burner fuel-mix injector in this engine. I should be ready to depart within an arn."
"Ah... I see..." said Chiana pensively, she had narrowly timed her visit and pending request as it turned out. "There's something I want to talk to you about. About you leaving that is." With his back to her, she couldn't get a hint as to what he might have been thinking... or more likely what he might have let slip for a split microt as the ex-Enforcer normally showed little on his face.
Instead the Shrike seemed to become even more immersed with what he was doing at her statement.
"Within the arn is the best I am able to do," he told her absently while still tinkering.
Chiana frowned with the ever-increasing sinking feeling she felt. Berret had again taken her statement to mean that she wanted him gone off Moya as soon as possible.
"No, that's not what I came down here for," she countered and took a step closer to him. "I need to talk to you, and I need you to turn around and look at me."
Something clanked inside the cowling as some tool Berret was using slipped. The ex-assassin exhaled slightly as if becoming annoyed with the work and the interruption. Chiana wasn't fooled by what to someone else might have only been a subtle and seemingly common appearance. She might not have been able to see the incidents with her own eyes at the time, but she did recall several occasions where Berret had put on the facade of emotions when the situation called for him to mimic them. It was part of the way he could camouflage himself in a group of people if need be. The very fact he put on the slight "irritated" act told Chiana that on some level she was unsettling the man - and she wasn't sure if that was good or bad.
"I am very busy, Chiana," Berret explained. "I have to finish this adjustment if I wish to leave on my schedule. You are now well and almost healed, you have the means of restoring your shipmates, I am no longer required and my business with the Syndicate has waited long enough to be concluded."
"You mean your revenge," Chiana blurted out without thinking. She bit her tongue an instant later and wished she could take the comment back. Antagonizing the Shrike would not get her his aid.
"Yes," was all Berret said in return from under the engine cowling.
She moved the rest of the way over to the still working Shrike and tentatively laid a hand on his back. She felt his muscles tense in response. She had been attempting to let her instincts guide her with handling the Shrike but she wondered if the contact had been another error on her part. It seemed she'd succeeded in botching the meeting from the very moment she walked through the bay doorway she thought to herself.
"I'm sorry," she apologized gently and without thinking about it. Surprisingly in response Berret's muscles became less tense under her fingers. Slightly encouraged, she then continued on, "This is hard enough for me as it is. Please... stop working and look at me."
Berret froze completely for a microt or two, and then reluctantly extracted himself all the way out from under the cowling. He turned to face her once he was free, his face void of expression as usual.
"Thank you," Chiana said to him, the Shrike responded with a small neutral nod of acknowledgement. Her dark eyes turned sad as she looked up at him and made herself get on with the unpleasant task. "I want... I want to tell you, how sorry I am for what happen between us. I never should have said those things - or acted the way I have."
"It is not your fault," Berret replied tonelessly. "I am what I was made to be."
Chiana shook her head. "I know that... I should have always kept that in mind. That it was going to be difficult for you to adjust. And that you came looking for me because you thought I was the only one you could turn too for help... and I let you down."
A quick flare that might have been anger flashed across Berret's eyes. Chiana wasn't too sure she had really caught the look, it had passed so fleetingly. Berret's neutral guise reasserted itself just as quickly.
"I need no one's help," Berret said nonchalantly. "You have done nothing wrong... and owe me nothing."
Chiana knew that wasn't true and that in his way, Berret was trying to absolve her from any of the blame she was feeling. It didn't help make what she had to ask of him any easier.
"A lie?" she asked while looking up at him with searching eyes. A slight smile started to crease her lips; it unexpectedly struck her as extraordinary that the Shrike's first attempt at lying had been to save her feelings.
Her smile just as abruptly died when Berret's empty gaze told her he failed to recognize the significance.
"As you wish," the Shrike replied, letting her know that it didn't matter if she accepted his statement at face value or not.
She momentary looked away from the ex-Enforcer. It was then she understood that Berret had given up in some way. At one time he might have made an attempt to understand what she found engaging about his comment, now he just stood there, blankly waiting for her to continue. She had dealt Berret an unforeseen blow by refusing his offer to leave Moya with him, made worse when she revealed her desire to stay with D'argo. Then she had asked him to help steal the bio-reconstruction device from the prison - only to be shocked by what he had done to accomplish that goal for her.
Their reunion had been far from perfect.
And she knew without doubt that she had failed him at every turn - including her promise of being his friend.
Their confrontation after the events on Qujagan world had only crushed what remaining hope he held for himself. Now Berret seemed to be turning more cold and stone-like by the arn. Withdrawing further into himself, sliding backwards into that machine-like thing the Syndicate had made of him.
Now here she was about to betray him in a way once again, to use him once more after she had practically slapped him in the face and turned her back on him after what he had done to achieve the goal she herself asked of him.
With excruciating pain she realized she had no other choice but to use him again.
Rygel had been wrong. With all the immoral things she done in her past, what she was about to do in the next few moments would far outstrip them all as being the worse thing she'd ever done.
She turned pain-filled eyes back to the man, only to find he had gone back to working on the Wraith's engine while she contemplated her thoughts. Apparently he finished whatever he was doing, as she saw him reconnected some sort of cable, then withdraw a few tools from the compartment before closing the cowling and locking it down.
"Berret, I..." she started as he turned around again. He paused, gazing at her with eyes as blue as ice. In a sudden rush what she needed came pouring out of her. The Shrike listened, showing no emotion or particular interest. When she finished her story and crucial request, the ex-assassin simply gave her a one-word answer.
Chiana nodded numbly at his response, then turned and silently headed for the maintenance bay doorway.
Outside in the corridor and out of sight from the Shrike, she paused to lean weakly up against a bulkhead; her sore eyes began to haze with sadness.
She had completed the unpleasant task to the best of her ability and would now suffer the consequences for all she had done. After all that had passed between them, she had been a fool to think Berret would answer in any other way than what he had.
Any other time in the past, it would have been easy for her to go on without a second thought or to feel anything like regret because a desire didn't work out the way she wanted it too. Events sometime never turned out the way you always hoped they would no matter how badly you wanted it.
People came into your life, sometime they left because of things you said or did, sometimes you used them when you had too to survive - sometimes they used you. Sometimes they died... and there was nothing you could do about it even if you tried.
She'd learned long ago that life was rarely if ever fair and to accept it when things got frelled... or just plain crashed and burned.
She wondered why the cold feeling of failure in her stomach and the ache in her heart were so difficult to accept this time?
The Nebari girl headed back to her quarters, not wishing to run into any of her other crewmates after this devastation.
Her shipmates would just have to wait a few microns for the results of her task while she took time to compose herself again.
Berret silently watched the gray girl turn and leave the bay.
It was evident by the slightly stricken look on Chiana's face that the girl was actually hoping for a different answer from the assassin. He knew that coming to him and asking for his assistance once again had been troublesome for the Nebari female, especially after her reaction to what the Hynerian had told her had happened on Qujagan planet.
He vaguely wondered how she could have expected a different response from him?
He turned and moved over to a nearby tool cart and began replacing the tools he had been using. Chiana had asked her petition knowing now how unstable he was becoming by the arn - it was no longer a secret from her. He had seen the look in her eyes while she had confronted him in the corridor outside his temporary quarters.
He slammed a spanner wrench into its compartment.
She knew how he was unable to control the urge to kill. Chiana knew because Rygel had filled her in, in great detail on what he'd witnessed. And still, she had come to ask.
In a sudden blinding rage, he ceased a spike-like tool used to probe circuit connections. The bay filled with a sudden sound of tortured metal as he drove it through the side of the tool chest.
He had seen the horror... the disgust in her eyes when she confronted him about his actions on Qujaga. The pain and loss in her voice as she told him she couldn't stand to be near him. And still... she came there to ask again!
The destruction of the probe tool wasn't satisfying enough. The Shrike curled his fingers tightly and repeatedly pounded the tool chest with his fist, letting the pain fuel his rage and drowned the voice in his head. The metal case groaned and dented under the assault. Berret kept it up until the bones in his hand shattered. Stopping only after the pain of the microbes repairing the damage was just as great as the repeated breaking of his hand against the metal toolbox.
He had seen how she couldn't even bear to be within sight of him these last few solar days... how it must have sickened her to request his help again... how could she think of asking for his help again after Qujaga?
He stepped forward and kicked the cart over, spilling the contents all over the maintenance bay floor.
He panted hard as he recalled the tormented look that Chiana had worn a moment ago, knowing that despite everything that was at stake, everything she now knew about him - she desperately did not wanted to hear the response he had given her. The Nebari had hoped that he'd say something else.
He'd dispassionately watched while the ghost in his mind chuckled with delight as the hope had died in her dark eyes and the bitter grief replaced it.
How could she think a creature such as he could answer any other way?
He forced his heavy breathing to slow as he took back control of himself. His hand was a torrent of pain; he looked downward and could physically see the limb and its digits pulse and mend before his eyes. This was far from normal even for the massive damage he'd done to it. He wondered how long it would be before the microbes burned him out. He decided it wouldn't matter for much longer and then ignored his healing hand.
He turned back to his ship a moment later.
"Wraith?" he asked out loud in a rasping tone.
"On line, Shrike457," the artificial intelligence unit of the craft responded immediately from a speaker in the hatch's in-set control panel.
"Status?"
"Diagnostic check complete. All systems at 100%. Hetch drive system: online. Stealth system: online. Weapons system: online..." the A.I. began to report.
"Stop," the Shrike ordered, "Scan recent adjustments to portside after-burner and report."
"Portside after-burner reports functioning now at 100% efficiency."
"Good," Berret said idly, not actually expecting the ship's computer to reply.
The A.I. made several testing sounds that indicated another task had just been completed.
"Pre-flight checks now complete. Wraith-Class Stealth craft ready for space flight," said the A.I. "Awaiting next orders and/or new mission parameters."
Berret grunted absently and flexed his almost repaired hand. His mending joints audibly cracked and his abused flesh still burned, as did his stomach. The microbes made their usual demand to be fed after rebuilding the limb he so nearly destroyed a few moments earlier. Even their greed was beginning to grow as the Shrike noticed it took more and more protein intake to satisfy them.
That didn't matter either, at least sometimes the pain made the rage and the voice go away for a while, but only sometimes.
"Wraith," Berret said a few microts later, "Cancel pre-flight status and return to stand-by mode."
"Acknowledged, Shrike457," responded the computer immediately. "All systems powering down. Stand-by mode engaging."
Through the open hatchway, Berret could see control panels go dark as the ship shut itself down. He turned back and faced the doorway that Chiana had departed through just microns before.
The inner conflict had been obvious when she requested he stay and help with what they needed, the distress of being forced to ask a killer... a murderer for assistance, and knowing they desperately needed it.
And knowing he'd slaughter more victims if given the chance.
The compunction she felt with his answer had been plainly obvious on her pale features.
He reached inside the hatchway and withdrew a satchel from a storage bin.
Just as he knew a negative answer to her request would leave the crew in dire straits, he also knew that there was no reason for him to stay and help. He did not owe the others anything, including the pair in status that he had never met. And he considered his debt to the Nebari girl paid with what he'd already done so far for her as she healed.
Still Berret could not get the look of anguish on Chiana's face out of his mind when he told her, "Yes."
Some great part of the Nebari girl had wanted him to refuse her appeal.
He had meant to refuse, but when he opened his mouth to speak the words - they wouldn't form.
She had asked and he couldn't say no. Whether it was for her sake, the misguided need to be near her for just a while longer, or for some darker reason only the voice in his mind knew, the Shrike couldn't truly say.
The collar's ghost chortled malevolently in the background of his thoughts.
Berret considered that if Chiana was willing to shoulder the burden of being responsible for what he might do for the sake of her two friends - perhaps the trade was a good one then? There had to be something the gray girl saw in her shipmates that she would make the sacrifice for them... just as she had originally reached out to help him. She had thought there was something worth saving about a Shrike Enforcer who had been assigned to guard her while she awaited a brutal Syndicate execution.
It had not been Chiana's fault that Berret had let her down in her assessment of him.
He was probably going to die anyway, either by the malfunctioning microbes or in his vendetta against Arckatius and the Black Syndicate. How could one man alone hope to win against such a vast underworld organization or against an enemy from within his own body? The best he could hope for was to see the Scarran dead at his feet for a brief moment or die with his hands around Arckatius' throat. Maybe even with the Bat'Rellite blades the Kingpin had given him buried in his own Scarran guts would be just as good also.
It would be better than the slow death the microbes would probably lead him too... if that ranting ghost in his mind didn't drive him totally mad first.
Whatever the final outcome - let the return of Chiana's friends be the one good thing he'd accomplished in his short remembered lifetime... even if it turned out to be the final act of his life. He told himself that if he could leave Chiana with this one last... gift, he would have earned the right to his revenge against the Syndicate. The scales would be balanced in the Goddess' eyes and no one could naysay him, no matter whatever he chose to do to Arckatius and his people.
Then he could die... and be free of his living hezmana... of his feelings for her.
If he could keep the voice and urge under control long enough to do some good. "Do this," he silently bargained with the phantom, "Do this for her without unnecessary havoc... and I'll give you Arckatius and his group to do with as we wish... countless souls and a sea of blood... killing until we can't raise our arms any longer or we drown in the gore we will spill."
The voice liked that deal... it liked the arrangement a lot.
As a after-thought, Berret commed Pilot and asked that the helmsman have the Wraith transferred from the current maintenance bay to a parking bay in the Leviathan's hanger.
His departure would be delayed a little longer.
He picked up the bag with his few belongings and headed out of the chamber to return to his previous quarters, following in the Nebari girl's steps.