*Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and ideas….and the plot bunnies in the corner. Please don't sue, I'm a poor college student that has no life and way too many video games.*
"Take from me my everything, and I'll show you how far down into hell I am willing to fall."
-Kira M.
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My Everything
Chapter Summary: Day 9 - They took everything from me...from us. I'll climb down to the very depths of hell, burn apart my soul, and destroy this entire universe if it means I can get my family back.
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Solar Day 9
Uncharted Territories
Location Unknown
Crichton stared at the walls, blue eyes taking in every available surface, blue filling it. He had used the last of his white pens in order to fill the walls with the equations and alien cyphers. Rovhu chittered anxiously but he mostly went ignored and 1812 beeped at him mournfully. Crichton was lost, his own mind and the strange writing that the young leviathan did not recognize taking all of his attention.
Sometimes the human would sleep…when his body demanded it. John would collapse randomly in the middle of writing or staring, getting few precious arns of rest before he was back at the walls with his pens. Days had passed, uncounted and unnoticed to all of the leviathan's residences as Rovhu continued to orbit his dead mother. He did not know what to do and was unwilling to leave her. And Crichton, well he had the wall.
He had lost weight, his unwashed shirt hanging limply from his boney shoulders. Rovhu worried and 1812 fussed, but it went unseen by the biped. And then one day, many after they had discovered the deaths of their family, John placed the dried and empty pen on the floor and left the room.
His movements were slow and awkward. Exhaustion seemed to move with him like an entity, hanging on every step and shift that his body took. Hunger clawed at his empty stomach, his miniscule rations having expired long ago. But determination burned in his hollow eyes for the first time in a long while and Rovhu noticed even through his own grief.
The leviathan opened doors ahead of his human so he would not have to waste his depleted energy reaching for the panels. With shuffling steps it took Crichton a very long while to reach the command, and once he did he immediately made his way to the window bench. Lowering himself slowly, he sighed as stiff and achy muscles finally got to rest after days of standing and sleeping on a block no better than the floor.
Rovhu chirped curiously, his tone heavy with sadness and Crichton felt guilt settle in his stomach for his lack of empathy to child's situation as his mind had only been focused on the problem. "I'm okay, little one," he sighed heavily, scrubbing a hand through the stubble on his face that was making a valiant effort to become a beard.
The tiny DRD rolled up to him, eyelights flashing as it bumped his bare foot with its painted body. Crichton smiled softly, the corners of his mouth twitching in fondness before he reached down to run his fingers over the hard shell. The eyelights blinked excitedly and 1812 twirled in place before settling next to him.
"I have a plan," he started, clearing his throat as the words stuck in the thickness of it. Grief, rage, and days of silence had left his throat soar and unused. "We're going to get them back."
It will work, it has too. I have nothing left.
Rovhu chirruped in confusion, the main lights flashing with each note as he turned to view the decaying body of his mother. Crichton saw her massive form fill the view of the window and he turned his back to it. The sight would only cast doubt upon his plan and he could not afford to have uncertainty in any one aspect of it if they were going to make it work.
"I traveled through time once, changed history…" he began, fingers pressing into his eyes as if he could scrub the image of Moya's broken husk out of his mind. "I could do it again, we could-the past, we can change it."
Hold your breath, make the climb. Let's turn back the hands of time.
Crichton sounded less sure with each word uttered, but Rovhu did not notice. He was only a child, a narl that desperately wanted his mother back and the person he trusted most in the universe was telling him it was possible.
Rovhu believed, and Crichton believed with him.
They were going to get them back, all of them. Moya with her golden and undamaged hull, Pilot with his unbelievable patience, Aeryn with her harsh words and soft smiles, Chiana with her klepto habits, Noranti and her atrocious cooking, Rygel and his ego, D'Argo…his son.
Crichton had a plan, and for the first time in days he felt like himself again.
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Solar Day 11
Uncharted Territories
Location Unknown
It took them two solar days to reach the space station that Chiana and Rygel had docked at to get supplies. Rovhu danced around the station for nearly a quarter arn as they waited for docking permission. His curiosity was endearing and John catered to him as the leviathan pulled up schematics and systems while the Commander tried his best to explain their purpose.
Once they received the green light and a stall number it took several longer minutes to convince Rovhu to approach the station and guide him through docking procedures. The narl questioned everything and entered his berth hesitantly, shying from side to side before settling. He was grumpy as Crichton prepared to leave. John laughed as Rovhu twittered mournfully, rocking in his docking bay with unease as cables attached to ports and a ramp latched onto his maintenance door. He had almost forgotten that the child was ticklish.
Exiting through the maintenance door, John made sure his comms remained open and walked down the ramp into the bazaar. As he pressed into the crowd, employing his inner Chiana and lifted credits from well off individuals, he was thankful that Rovhu had interior security. The station was not what one would consider dangerous exactly, but there were plenty of shady areas that catered to a particular clientele with not quite legal tastes. A leviathan gunship would easily sell on a market such as this.
Come on Crichton, it's easy. Just sidle up and give them a bump. Apologize politely, distract with your smile while your hand relieves them of their credits. Even a narl can do it.
He pushed Chiana's voice from his mind as he weaved through the throngs of multicolored people and tried not to trip on the surprising amount of tentacles. Crichton quickly gathered the things he needed and had them loaded into the maintenance bay that the leviathan's purple DRDs were monitoring. With enough food cubes to last nearly a monen, clothes to replace the ones he had left aboard Moya, bedding and sheets for convenience, and more tools than he was sure he needed John left the space station with a feeling of accomplishment. He had even acquired a map of the quadrant and still had enough credits to buy supplies to put together a still.
He was unsure how long it would take to accomplish the impossible feat he had put before himself and Rovhu, but no amount of time was going to go to waste. History would be rewritten, his family would be safe, or he would destroy the entire universe trying.