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--Listen to the sound.—
--Smell the smoke.—
--Can you hear it?—
--Never heard it.—
--Smells sssssoo good.—
Daine was starting to get dizzy. The basilisks crept closer to the great metal vessel that had descended from the sky, and they whispered and sang as they moved. Their gray bodies swirled the smoke, so that it rose and fell in long, gray wisps. Even Tkaa, who burned brightest for Daine because she knew him well, seemed entranced. She swayed a little.
Stop listening to them, Cloud told her firmly, closing her teeth onto Daine's shoulder. The wildmage shook her head and leaned on her pony, the solid warmth bringing her back to the present. Kitten pressed closer in her arms. She whistled softly, scales a bright, fearful magenta.
You're right, Daine told Cloud silently. Thank you.
He's going to get hurt, Red moaned, tossing his head nervously. The gelding gave a very small, high-pitched whinny, and it took Daine a moment to remember what he was talking about. She shook herself and looked out to see Jack walking through the smoke on the ground. It curled in gray eddies around his flapping coat. He's going to get killed! Red cried.
He can't get killed, Spots assured him. He's immortal, remember?
It still hurts to die, Red shot back anxiously. Jack shouldn't hurt.
Daine leaned heavily on Cloud, utterly overwhelmed.
"Sweet?" Numair slid from Spots' back and come over to brace her arm. "You're swaying." She blinked at him, feeling woozy. She loved him, Daine thought indistinctly. Beloved Numair, her mate. Why was he looking at her like that?
He'd asked a question, hadn't he? She should probably say something.
"The basilisks," Daine muttered, pushing away from Cloud to lean on his chest. He was warm and solid, and he anchored her back into reality. "They're singing, or chanting or something. It's like they're under a spell." Numair wrapped his arms protectively around her and kissed her hair softly. Daine tucked her head under his chin and closed her eyes, concentrating on him rather than the basilisks' eerie, whispering chanting. Soap and spices, she thought contentedly. He smelled like soap and spices.
"I don't like this," Daine heard Alanna say darkly. "I don't like this at all."
"Nor do I," Numair agreed softly. "But Jack's right. We are out of our depth. I wouldn't even know—" his voice faded. Daine opened her eyes and looked up.
The meadow was carpeted in the strange fog, and it swirled around Jack's calves. He'd stopped walking, Daine thought dreamily. He'd reached the vessel. She let her eyes trail up the huge, metal machine and pressed against Numair, trying to concentrate on the real world.
His arms tightened around her, and she watched as long metal panel descended from the side of the great, oblong metal vessel to the ground.
"It is like a ship," Numair murmured, fascinated. "It's like they're docking."
"What's—" Alanna started, but even she was stunned into silence when the creature stepped out onto the grass.
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Nepthalae. Something angry and sad twisted in Jack's heart as he recognized the species on sight. They were Nepthalae, one of the most peaceful races to have ever graced the Milky Way Galaxy. Their history was fraught with flight from wars or slavery or things equally horrible.
Jack remembered. It had been a while, but he remembered learning about them, once. He'd thought they were beautiful. Now, standing before one, he realized that the pictures and holograms hadn't done them justice.
Yellow and slender, almost humanoid but not quite, the man that was clearly the leader of the people inside stepped hesitantly onto the grass. He caught sight of Jack and froze, looking scared.
"Ma'hara," Jack said softly, a universal greeting. Hopefully, the other spoke Galactic standard, although there was a translation device in Jack's wrist strap.
The man relaxed. "Ha'drede," he replied in the same language. "Can you tell me where we've landed, friend? Our journey was long and dangerous, and our ship has failed us. We flee from a war, and my people are frightened and hungry." Galactic standard had a special verb tense for peace treaties. The alien was using that tense, voice formal and wary.
Jack sighed. "I fear you are not welcome here, friend," he replied, as formally as he could, using the same verb tense. Calling the other a friend was important in this sort of greeting – it was an immediate reassurance to the clearly anxious leader. "The land to which you have come is hostile, although I assure you that I am not. This place is quite primitive, and unwilling to accept strangers. I beg you: leave now, before your people are hurt." Or before I'm forced to hurt you, he thought grimly, and very firmly did not allow himself to shift his weight and show his unease.
The Nepthalam scratched the ground with one clawed toe nervously. "We have no fuel; even our emergency power cells are down," he said urgently, "our people were under attack. We barely made it here. We will leave as soon as we can." The poor man's voice had turned desperate. "But our ship is falling to pieces. I don't think it can fly us out of this atmosphere, let alone to another planet."
This is a disaster, Jack thought with a sinking feeling in his gut. God, but he did not want more innocent blood on his hands! "I'll see what I can do to help you," he told the man honestly, abandoning the formalities "Although you really won't find the parts here. I'm stranded here too, you see, but I have the benefit of looking like the inhabitants, so I can blend in."
There was a hiss behind him, and Jack turned. The Nepthalam leader gave a small yip of alarm.
Those basilisks had started to mill through the smoke carpeting the grass. They inched closer and closer to the ship, serpentine noses sniffing, jaws opening and closing, revealing two sharp teeth in the front and several grinding teeth behind. Jack turned. "Daine, call them off!" he shouted to the edge of the clearing, where he could see the others watching him wide eyed. The Nepthalam leader took a hesitant, frightened step away from the Immortals.
"I can't!" Daine shouted back. Her voice wavered alarmingly. Anxiously, Jack looked her up and down, but she seemed secure where she was standing in Numair's arms. "They won't listen to me!"
Jack cursed very quietly. He turned back to the leader. "Can you turn your engines off?" he asked. "I think these creatures are attracted to the exhaust."
The other man nodded. He looked behind and shouted to the people within the ship. There was a scramble and a scuffle, and then a deep whirring noise of something powering down. "I don't know if we'll be able to turn it back on again," the alien admitted, sounding worried.
"I'll help you," Jack told him, unsure whether or not he was lying and quietly hating himself for it. "I'll try. My companions and I, we'll get you back up into the air, alright? You really can't stay here, though. They won't welcome outsiders."
The leader nodded. "I understand. Do you have a title?"
"Captain Jack Harkness," Jack said ruefully. "And you, friend?"
"Sardon Schuan. Thank you, Captain."
"Don't thank me," Jack muttered bitterly, "Not yet." He turned back to the edge of the clearing. "It's alright," he called to his friends. "They're peaceful. Come meet the neighbors!"
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The creature was yellowish and thin, taller than Jack. It had a long neck, topped with a head like a featherless bird, its beak long, curving and graceful. Its garb was black, and a thin yellow tail curled and uncurled anxiously at its knees. Three-toed feet scratched nervously at the grass. Brown shoes covered the pads of the creature's feet, but cut off to leave the long, yellow toes to feel the ground.
Numair glanced down at Daine uneasily. She was clutching Kitten and leaning into his chest, eyes closed as if asleep. He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Are you alright, love?" he asked, and she shook herself, staggering as though to walk away and breaking out of his arms. Numair caught her before she fell. "Magelet!"
"I'm fine. I'm fine," she repeated shakily. "The basilisks keep—keep singing, is all. No, I can't hear the aliens. We should go over."
"Singing?" Alanna asked, but Numair glanced at her and shook his head. They needed to keep Daine grounded, and asking about the basilisks seemed like a bad idea.
"Can you walk?" Numair asked her instead.
Daine nodded and smiled at him shakily before staggering back to Cloud and clambering up. Kitten clung to her, turning pinker and pinker with fright. Numair bit his lip anxiously, but hoisted himself back onto Spots. His painted gelding snorted and tossed his head. Darkmoon huffed behind them, and Red whinnied quietly, following.
"The horses are terrified," Daine whispered softly. Numair smiled back at her nervously, eyes running up and down her form. She seemed more balanced on Cloud, but even still, he was afraid that she would fall. His eyes slid to Kitten, riding behind Daine. The young dragon clutched at her tunic, muttering unhappily, and Numair felt another burst on unease.
"They're not the only ones," he whispered back. They made their way slowly towards the ship, and the basilisks parted before them, watching with their dull, rusty eyes. Something was definitely wrong here. "They have to be drugged," Numair muttered.
"They feel that way," Daine murmured, and he glanced at her again.
They walked slowly through the mist, which swirled quietly around the horses' hooves. Jack and that creature were standing at the foot of the vessel, and he smiled at them quickly when they approached.
"Dismount," their friend said as the yellow bird-thing beside him took a frightened step back. "You're intimidating him." He turned to the creature and said something else in a strange language. Hadn't Jack said that the thing on his wrist translated for him? Jack suddenly turned and beckoned to Red.
The dappled gelding snorted and tossed his head, a refusal if Numair ever saw one. The mage did not blame him in the slightest. He glanced at Daine, who was regarding Jack's horse seriously.
Numair dismounted quietly and watched Jack take his horse's reins very carefully. Red did not bolt, mostly due to Daine's silent reassurance, Numair was sure. Jack stroked the gelding's nose before turning back to the bird-like alien, which, after a moment of hesitation, stepped up and tentatively touched Red's cheek. The horse stood perfectly still and then pricked his ears forward. Numair saw Daine smile.
"What are they called, Jack?" Alanna whispered suddenly. Numair glanced at her. She was standing next to Darkmoon with one hand uncertainly on the hilt of her sword, the other on the horse's reins. Numair's eyes skipped over anxiously to Daine, who had slipped off Cloud. She leaned heavily on the pony's side, but she smiled when she saw him watching her. His stubborn magelet, he thought affectionately.
"Nepthalae," Jack replied, eyes on the alien, who had looked away from the horse and was now regarding Daine, Numair and Alanna. Numair watched the creature curiously, unable to hide it.
"They're one of the most peaceful races of the galaxy," Jack continued. "This tribe's fleeing from a war. Alanna, Daine, Numair, I'd like to introduce you to Sardon Schuan, their leader. Sardon, dulesh nonakasrot m'falla: Alanna cuspah Lioness, tre Veralidaine Sarrasri cuspah Daine, tre Numair Salmalin. Galactic standard doesn't have articles," he added to Alanna, and his voice would be offhand if he weren't standing so tensely. "So I can't really express that you're the Lioness, only that you're called Lioness." Numair almost laughed and Jack's tone and his words, which were utterly irrelevant. Who cared? There were aliens from, not another realm, but another world standing right there!
"I'm horribly offended, I'm sure," Alanna remarked, but her voice was filled with wonder. "Where are they from?"
Yes, Numair though, amazed, where were they from? What sort of a place could produce this creature, what kind of sky did it live under?
"Planet Desoe, but they're fleeing the wars of Malinb," Jack replied. "It's been a long journey, and they're hungry and scared. Their ship's broken," he explained. "I told them that I'd help them fix it, and then send them on their way. They can't stay here."
"The gods want them dead," Numair realized suddenly with a sinking feeling in his heart. Who could kill such a magnificent creature? "Why, if they're peaceful?" He looked past the leader and into the dark doorway, craning his neck to see what was inside the ship. He wondered how it worked.
"Because they can't control them," Daine said, voice was low and soft. Numair turned to her sharply, and saw Alanna do the same out of the corner of his eye.
"Sweet?" he asked, confused. She smiled sadly at him.
"They don't belong here," she continued unhappily. Her eyes were still filmy, Numair noted with alarm. "They can't stay, it'll—it'll upset the balance." Kitten, still in her arms and still looking frightened, nodded emphatically.
Jack sighed, and his posture slumped. He looked utterly defeated, as though he had the universe on his shoulders. "Yes. But I won't kill them. We're going to send them on their way." He swallowed, suddenly nervous. "Will you help me?"
That wasn't even a question that needed answering, Numair thought dryly. "Of course we will," he said derisively, and Daine smiled at him with such warmth that his heart gave a small, happy leap. "And tell your friends so as well." He tilted his head to the creature called Sardon.
Numair glanced at Alanna who nodded. Jack's eyes warmed gratefully and he turned to explain in that odd, lilting language. Sardon gave a ululating cry before bowing deeply.
The cry was echoed, and the five of them turned. The basilisks were drawing in thickly around the ship, although the pollution was starting the thin. Daine shook herself and stepped away from Cloud, clearly determined. Numair made a small, worried sound as she approached the basilisks.
Every serpentine head turned to her, and Numair shared an anxious glance with Alanna. Daine's power alarmed even him, sometimes.
"Tkaa!" Daine suddenly called aloud, and a long, thin gray body separated itself from the rest.
"Can I eat it?" the Immortal asked, voice slurred and slow. Numair frowned at Tkaa's eyes, dull and rusty, and he was struck again by how wrong that looked.
"Listen," Daine said quietly. "You can't eat it, and you can't stay here. This stuff in the air, it's drugging you—"
"We want more, little mortal," whispered another basilisk, coming up beside Tkaa. "Will you stand in our way?"
Numair felt a thrill of fear, and gathered his power, watching Daine protectively.
"Turn her to stone for her ignorance," hissed another, and Numair readied himself, the words of the spell on the tip of his tongue.
"No," Alanna whispered, and he turned when he felt a hand on his arm. "Daine has to do it. Not yet, Numair."
"What is she doing?" Jack asked quietly, and Numair glanced from Alanna to Jack and back to the field of basilisks.
"I don't know," he said unhappily, and let his power die down. Alanna was right, though. Against this many of them, even he couldn't win.
"No." Tkaa's voice was suddenly stern and loud enough to catch Numair's attention. "She's—a friend." It sounded like it cost him great effort to speak.
"She denies us!" a basilisk shrieked, and Numair tensed uneasily.
"No." Tkaa turned his back on Daine and faced away from her, but as he turned Numair saw him shake his head, and he caught a glimpse of the basilisk's clear eyes. "She is right. We must leave." His friend held himself upright now, posture more sure.
There were hisses and snarls amongst the gathered basilisks, but Tkaa was firm. "We are not animals!" he called and, with much persuasion and not a little herding, he pushed the others back. Then he turned to Daine.
"Thank you," he said, eyes clear. "You were right. We should not remain here. I—I lost myself, in the smoke, and I'm sorry for it. We will leave now; this place is dangerous." He looked at Numair and Alanna and then his eyes slid to Jack. Numair was shocked to see the creature hiss suddenly and recoil before turning back to Daine. "I recommend that you kill these," the basilisk said darkly, gesturing to the ship. "They are poison. I do not suggest death lightly, as you know." He nodded once and turned to leave at a swift run.
"We're not killing them," Jack growled. The creature beside him shifted its weight, clearly confused. It didn't speak Common, Numair thought ruefully. There was no way he was going to aid in killing a creature that was clearly harmless.
"No," Daine agreed suddenly, "we're not." Numair nodded to himself and walked over to stand beside her. He laid a hand supportively on her shoulder. She turned and smiled at him.
"That was amazing, dearest," he murmured, and she shrugged.
"What can we do to help?" Alanna asked. Jack looked at her incredulously, and then he grinned.
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