Author's note: Remember I told you that this is a crossover? Be prepared.
Chapter 2: Babies & Burskins
Nights on Bellatrix are six Earth hours long; the days are eighteen. Bellatrix is a moon orbiting a larger, less hospitable planet that has been officially named Lokestra by the IA, though among scientific and exploratory circles it is simply called "Loki." On some evenings, Loki can be seen from Bellatrix as a flash of scarlet on the horizon. The planet and its moon share a small galaxy with four other planets, several moons, and a single blue star that acts as a sun to them. It is this star that permits Bellatrix its normally pristine sapphire sky. Occasionally, there is heavy rain, though the majority of the days in the two hundred fifty day year are very much like yesterday. There are no seasons to speak of giving the reason as to why John mostly thinks of this planet as "autumn." He has taken to classifying the many planets they have visited since they last saw the Neo-Tethys as one or more Earth seasons: autumn, winter, spring and summer. Each and every single day is more fascinating than the next. Not only have they discovered new species of plants and animals, but they have had the joy of fully discovering each other. They work together well, each man having tested the other's strengths and weaknesses; having been in battle side-by-side has forged a link between them such that if the romantic ardor were to ever cool, the bond of strength would remain.
A little under an hour after daybreak finds John making use of the portable shower that stands behind their lodge. The lodge is not as flimsy as a tent, though it is smaller than any permanent residence. It has a wooden frame and metal walls. It was built to Captain Holmes' exacting standards a few days before they arrived. Inside were one bedroom, a kitchen, and a large open area used as a both a laboratory and sitting room. The lavatory and shower are portable, enabling them to remove most traces of their days here when they finally move on to the next galactic curiosity.
Grounded electricity is not available here, though the previous crew did install a floating generator for those days when the weather is less than cooperative. Those are the days they spend inside testing, cataloging and sometimes finding uses for the fauna they discover. Generally, they only study the animal life but do not interfere with it any more than necessary. Sherlock does most of the testing and dictating. John takes notes and enters the data into their journals and e-books. They have no set timetable in which to work, the only constraint is that they must send weekly reports to the IA via e-book. John does better than that; however, downloading their reports most nights while Sherlock is experimenting with whatever new specimens they brought in that day.
John scrubs his scalp, his strong fingers making short work of the tiny knots that have built up in his really-needs-a-trim hair over the past twenty four hours. The water is starting to cool off. He groans a little and finishes his shower just as the spray turns icy. He steps out onto the ground, his feet making little squishy noises against the moss that is as soft as any bathroom rug. His towel is hanging on a floating hook just at arm level. He grabs it and dries off; finally he is dry but completely naked. He hangs the towel back up and the hook moves above his head, keeping the large green towel above the ground.
John opens the back door of their lodge and enters the sitting room. Sherlock is hunched over a long table covered with flasks and books. He is completely dressed, sapphire blue uniform shirt, black trousers. His long bare toes are curled around the bars of the stool he is perched on. Sherlock's head is bent so close to the specimen he is presently examining that his nose is almost touching it. His raven curls, also in need of a trim, are sweeping forward over his face; the ones from his forehead are actually touching the table. To John, he is, in a word: breathtaking.
"Good gods, you are gorgeous." John moves up behind him and lays one palm against Sherlock's waist.
Sherlock makes an irritated sound and then turns his head to see John as he is forcibly pulled out of his concentration. He grins. "Thank you." Their lips touch for a fraction of a second before Sherlock goes back to the lilac colored petals in his long fingers. Each petal has a single red vein running through the center of it. It is this detail that Sherlock is not only eyeing so closely, but also sketching out on the pad in front of him.
John sits down on the opposite side of the table, pulling his e-book towards himself. Discovering a new message, he opens it and laughs loudly. Ignoring Sherlock's growl, John reads the message again before he speaks. "It's from Jared, Sherlock. Binya is expecting."
Sherlock regards him coolly, an odd-sort of distracted look on his face. "Expecting what?"
John almost falls off of his stool as his entire body shakes with laughter. "A baby, Sherlock. A baby."
"Oh. Good for them, then." Sherlock quickly returns to his specimen.
John steps into the kitchen to round up something in the way of breakfast. Sherlock has not quite gotten over the fact that Jared and Binya decided to move back to Earth and start a new life together, rather than stay with them. Well, not them, exactly, more like Sherlock. John is fairly certain that Sherlock was truly enjoying his time as a mentor to the younger man. It worked out well, though, because Jared uses the skills Sherlock taught him; he works in a large lab on the home planet. Whatever Sherlock allows to fall out of his mouth, John knows that the other man is quite proud of his young protégé. Sure, he's disappointed that Jared went off and made his own life, but isn't that what should happen?
He tosses some veg-bacon in a skillet and cracks two of the blue speckled eggs from the shelf above the tiny stove top. Since they have been here for several weeks, they have had to learn what types of native foods were edible, as their stores were running a bit low.
"Sherlock, we are going to need a delivery if we are planning on staying here much longer." John raises his voice a little to be heard over the crackling food.
"Uh huh." Sherlock answers John vaguely, completely disinterested in calling his brother any time soon for any reason whatsoever.
John sets a small plate in front of the busy scientist. Sherlock finally sets it down and munches on a strip of veg-bacon. "John this stuff really is pretty terrible."
"Well, until you call the Admiral and get us some fresh, you are going to have to lump it." John chastises, shoveling in his own breakfast.
Sherlock just sighs. "Well, we have pretty much done what we came here for. Unless you fancy a trip into the mountains, I think we have enough to be going on with."
"Aye, Captain." John grins. He knows exactly what comes next.
Sherlock finishes his little meal and steps away from the table, leaving the plate behind. John watches him as he moves about, straightening his papers and packing them away for travel. Sherlock is actually pretty efficient with this part of the job, as long as he is in the mood to do it.
John takes their dishes to the little kitchen and proceeds to do his share of getting things together. He looks about the room and decides everything is to his liking before joining Sherlock out in front of the lodge and a conversation already in progress. Sherlock is reclined on the ground, legs stretched out in front of him, resting on his arms. His e-book is next to him, set up on a little stand so that he can speak directly to the face of his brother.
"…Sherlock, why do you refuse to help me with this?" Admiral Holmes is addressing his little brother in a voice that could almost be described as a warning growl.
"Mycroft, I am done. I have enlightened you time and time again that I just want to do research." Sherlock snorts, looks up at the sky and rolls his eyes. John sits down on a patch of moss beside him.
"Sherlock, you are the only person that I trust with information like this. They need help. I cannot just send an army in there if I have no idea what we are up against!" As always, the Admiral's frustration levels are growing by the second.
John waits until the silence stretches thin between the siblings. He clears his throat then asks his question quietly. "What is it that you need, My…Admiral?" Though he has been in a relationship with the Admiral's brother all this time, John still feels uncomfortable calling the higher-ranking officer by his first name. Sherlock sighs loud and dramatically but doesn't actually say another word.
The Admiral turns his attention on John. "Two Burskins were picked up in a run-down escape pod just outside the orbit of Galaxis Nineteen several days ago. One of Sherlock's old crew members was able to speak with them. They were on their way to Earth for a spot of holiday, but they received some information from a planet that was involved in a bitter feud between the natives and an Earth mining company about seventy-five years ago." The Admiral pauses. John attempts to match this information with anything in his head and comes up blank. He shrugs. The Admiral continues.
"What I need from the two of you is to see if there is still life on that planet and how the native peoples are faring since the battle that forced any other humanoid off of it. Allegedly…" and here the Admiral pauses for dramatic effect again. John knows full well that just because the Admiral says allegedly it means actually though not exactly common knowledge for whatever reason the IA makes up. "Allegedly, there were some top-class experiments going on there that involved genetics and creating bodies that you could wear to walk amongst the natives without fear. A few hundred years ago, the American Navajos would have called these soulless bodies skin walkers."
John turns towards Sherlock and shrugs. His actions mean "if you are in, I'm in."
Sherlock notes John's reaction before speaking to his brother. "So if you already know that, then why do we need to get involved? I am a researcher now, Mycroft, not a soldier and you know I don't give a damn about mining. Tell me what you really want."
"We need to know if there is anything remaining from the experiments, Captain." The Admiral puts special emphasis on Sherlock's title, which Sherlock correctly assumes to mean I-gave-it-to-you-you-owe-me. Sherlock knows he is not going to get the full story from his brother. He sighs again.
"What is the name of the planet, Admiral?" Sherlock's green eyes hold fast to his brother's dark blue ones through the screen of the e-book.
Admiral Holmes actually cracks a smile as he always does when he gets his little brother to capitulate and do leg work for him. Just before signing off, he says a single word so softly it is almost hard to make out: "Pandora."