Chapter 21: Wants and Needs

Alderaan

"Your ship is huge!" Lillie exclaimed as she looked out the moth canopy in wonder. They were on approach to the Lexx's main airlock, which opened automatically. The moth flew in without slowing down. As it hit atmosphere and gravity, it automatically switched flight mode, shutting down its thrusters as the wings began to beat.

The moth chirped happily as they circled the main landing platform inside the Lexx before settling down. The platform had become a busy place. Besides another two moths, there were half a dozen Alderaan shuttles neatly parked in a row with military precision. Kai lined up with the parked moths, preparing to land just as neatly as the shuttles. As the moth settled downward, Stanley reached for the joystick and gave a slight tug, throwing the moth out of alignment.

"We're not military," Stanley said to Kai. Kai simply looked at Stanley without comment, but completed the landing according to Stanley's wish.

Once they were parked, Lillie practically climbed over Stanley in her excitement. As Stanley attempted to maintain his dignity while exiting the moth, Lillie ran out a few meters before stopping to extend her arms out, head thrown back, turning in a circle, taking it all in.

Ginger had a haunted look on her face as she looked around the platform. "It's like we're inside the gut of an animal," she said to Stanley.

"Well basically, we are," replied Stanley with a grin. "The Lexx was grown on the Cluster after all. It's a great big, bio-engineered bug."

Ginger folded her arms and shivered a little. "Great…" she muttered to herself. She didn't know what to make of the ship. It was both very strange and familiar at the same time.

Her dreams started about two years ago. Disturbing dreams that became more vivid over time. Dreams that shattered her ordinary life. Her fiancé left her; the people she thought her friends abandoned her; family wouldn't talk to her. Everyone whispered she was crazy. Her therapist talked of syndromes and disorders, but to Ginger it amounted to "crazy." Even she thought she was crazy.

In some ways, being labeled crazy was liberating. Instead of holding back, she could tell people exactly what she thought of them, and all was forgiven because—crazy. She hadn't particularly liked her old job, and it had been so much fun to tell off her boss before walking out. As long as she was crazy, she figured she might as well do exactly what she wanted, and what she wanted was anything to distract from the dreams.

She began to hang out in bars. The music, the drinks, the people were a great distraction, but it was an expensive hobby. Her money ran low, and her disability payments weren't enough—not enough to sustain high bar tabs at any rate. She had been freely jumping into bed with whomever she pleased—another distraction. Some lovers would offer to pay, and initially she turned it down simply because that wasn't her motive, but with bills piling up, the temptation proved to be too great. She told herself it was a harmless way to make ends meet, but the city didn't see it that way. She was caught and charged with operating a business without a license.

As a first-time offender, the magistrate offered Ginger three choices: she could pay a fine (expensive), do community service (did not want), or she could go legit and work for a licensed brothel. For Ginger, the last option was the path of least resistance. Working at a brothel wasn't exactly high on the social scale, but it did provide some structure, which she needed. In spite of the worsening dreams, she was starting to get her life back together. Though she made a game of denying it, "Kitten" (really, Doctor Kitt) had been a great help.

And then she met Stanley Tweedle.

One night with Stanley, and Ginger's world fell apart. What was real, her life or the crazy dreams? Could both be real? How? She had to see it to believe it, though to be honest, she hadn't really expected the things Stanley said to be real. And yet, here she was, in the belly of the beast. It had to be real—unless she was dreaming again. Was she?

"Ginger?"

Ginger shook herself. Everyone was staring at her. "What?" she demanded irritably.

"You've been practically catatonic for nearly a minute," Stanley said, a worried expression on his face. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure. I'm fine," Ginger replied unconvincingly. "Let's get the tour started."

"Right," Stanley said awkwardly. He clasped his hands together. "Welcome to the Lexx! If you'll follow me…."

Stanley and Kai led the way to the platform exit. Up ahead were two Alderaan Guards standing guard duty.

"Are those guys going to be a problem?" Stanley said with a sideways glance to Kai as they continued on.

Kai held up his arm with the brace weapon. "No."

As they got closer, the two guards stepped aside and saluted. Stanley gave a vague wave in return, Kai ignored them, Ginger was too caught up in her own worries to notice, and Lillie "saluted" back by flashing her breasts as they passed.

"There's not really a whole lot to see yet—just a bunch of corridors going places," Stanley said. "But hey! The cryochamber is on the way to the bridge. We should stop off there, Kai."

"Yes," agreed Kai, "I am in need of protoblood, and as long as the Alderaan Guard are cooperative, you don't need my assistance."

"What's protoblood?" Lillie pipped up as she skipped along the corridor.

"It's because you're dead, right?" Ginger interjected, with a glance towards Lillie. Lillie, for her part, simply looked confused.

"Correct," replied Kai. "I can only function with protoblood, which is in limited supply."

"Hello? Walking? Talking?" said Lillie as she gave Kai a sideways look. "You can't be dead." For once she stopped skipping, and simply walked along with the rest.

"Oh yes he can!" Ginger shot back. "I've seen it in my dreams. It's real! It's all real! Do you know what this means?" She looked at Lillie with a demented expression.

Lillie reared back, eyes wide, and shook her head no, too intimidated to say anything.

Ginger gave a slightly manic laugh. "It means… I'M NOT CRAZY! WOO HOO!"

"Ah, point of order?" Stanley said as he held up a finger. "Giggerota was certifiably insane. Dreaming about her? Not healthy."

Ginger's temper flared. She rounded on Stanley, her fists clinched, arms held stiffly by her sides. "Of course it's not healthy you waste of skin! I know all about that! But at least there's some truth behind it!"

"Ginger?" Lillie said timidly, looking as though she thought her head was about to be bitten off. "Did you hear what you called Stanley?"

As quick as her temper flared, Ginger paled with realization. Her hand flew to her mouth. "Sorry," she said quietly.

"Forget about it," Stanley said magnanimously. He put an arm around Ginger. "You've been under a lot of stress. Anyway, we're here now."

They walked into the cryochamber. 790 was there, waiting.

"Well it's about time you got back!" 790 said to Kai. Then he spotted Stanley. "Oh! It's you." His voice dripped with disappointment.

"It's crazy, but I remember this," said Ginger as she looked around. "How can a dream be so detailed and prescient?"

"What's Leather Ass doing here?" 790 exclaimed while eyeing Ginger with open hostility.

"Well who's the dumb-dumb now?" chortled Stanley as he smirked at 790. "This isn't Giggerota."

790's eyes narrowed. "There's a difference between lack of knowledge and lack of intelligence," he shot back. "The former applies to me, but you'll always have the latter."

Stanley glanced up at the ceiling, thinking. "Now which way does that go?" he muttered to himself.

"I do not believe you are suffering from dreams," Kai said to Ginger, "but from the memories of Giggerota."

Ginger frowned. "How can I have someone else's memories?"

"Hey!" Stanley said as he glared at 790.

"All caught up now?" sneered 790. He turned to Kai. "There are minuscule differences, but genetically I'd say this woman is at least a 99.97% match to Giggerota—close enough to be considered twins."

"How can I be the twin of someone unrelated?" demanded Ginger.

"Yeah," piped up Lillie. "And didn't Stanley say they all were from a different universe?'

"That's easy, Sweet Cheeks," replied 790. "If you assume the possibility of an infinite number of overlapping but dimensionally separated universes, the likelihood of duplication becomes virtually certain."

"Okay, but that still doesn't explain my dreams—memories—whatever they are!"

"Perhaps," said Kai, "Giggerota was 'rescued' from Brunnis by the same entities that forced the Lexx to return for us."

"What are you talking about Kai?" sputtered Stanley. "Giggerota didn't make it back to the Lexx. She was flash-burned to a crispy critter by the supernova."

"Do you recall what the entities said, Stanley? 'Today is not your day to enjoy death.'"

"And… you're suggesting the 'not your day' rule applied to Giggerota as well?"

Kai gave a slight tilt of his head.

"Okay, so… if the entities couldn't rescue Giggerota physically—" began Stanley as he thought about it.

"They did the next best thing and transferred her memories to someone compatible," finished 790.

"Yeah, but Giggerota?" Stanley shook his head in disbelief.

"Obviously the entities were a poor judge of character," 790 said with derision. "They rescued you didn't they?"

Ginger had become increasingly upset during the conversation. "So what are you saying? I'm stuck with the memories of a monster?" She was close to tears.

"Looks like it, toots," 790 replied.

"Wonderful!" wailed Ginger. She fled the cryochamber. Stanley started to go after her.

"Let her go, security guard," said 790. "There's something else we need to discuss."

"Oh really? Like what?" demanded Stanley as he put hands on hips.

"If Kai is right," replied 790, "Then it may have been more than memories that were transferred."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning Giggerota's domineering nature may have transferred as well. If so, then I say it's a mercy to kill her now, while she's still herself, before Giggerota's personality takes over completely."

Lillie was horrified at the suggestion. "You wouldn't!" she exclaimed.

"Yes he would," replied Stanley. He made a face at 790. "But 790 is just a robot head, so he can't."

790 rolled his eyes. "Well don't come crying to me when I say, 'I told you so.' Think about it." With that, 790 rolled out of the cryochamber. The soft pinging of his cart faded away down the corridor.

Lillie looked back and forth between Kai and Stanley. "You're not really going to kill Ginger are you?" she asked with trepidation. "You're in the Alderaan System. You do know it's against the law to go around murdering people, right?"

"I think it would be—premature—to kill Ginger," replied Kai. "790 could be wrong. While we are here, I will follow Alderaan law, but once we go, I make no promises if Ginger is still on board."

"Well on that cheery note, it's time you got into cryo," Stanley said.

As soon as the lid closed on Kai's unit, Stanley motioned to Lillie. "Come on," he said. "Let's go to the bridge."

Lillie didn't move. "What about Ginger?" she asked.

Stanley put his arm around Lillie. "Hey, don't worry about what 790 said. He's a perverted, sick robot head and he's full of it, eh?"

Finally, Lillie nodded. "Okay, let's go."

Elsewhere in the Lexx, Ginger blindly wandered around, first down one corridor, then another, taking turns at random—or so she thought. She found herself in a familiar chamber. It had a series of alcoves that once housed the living brains of the Divine Predecessors—generations of prior victims of His Divine Shadow as the insect essence transferred from body to body. Each brain had been housed inside a clear casing that kept it alive indefinitely and allowed it to speak.

The brains were gone now, empty casings scattered around the floor, forgotten, but Ginger remembered how the chamber had looked before, when it was filled with talking, deceitful, pleading brains.

Thinking meat too salty, a voice whispered.

Ginger looked up sharply. "Who's there?" she called out.

The room was dead quiet.

Just as Ginger began to relax, telling herself it was her imagination, it happened again. Girlfriend, it seemed to breathe in her ear.

Ginger whirled around. "Lillie! That's not funny!" she shouted to the bare room. A part of her already knew it couldn't be Lillie, but she separately clung to the idea someone was playing a trick. The alternative was unthinkable.

Giggerota wants Lillie. Creamy and tender, like the Milk-Fed Boys promised to Giggerota.

"This can't be happening!" Ginger closed her eyes tight and pressed her hands hard against her ears, trying to shut out the world. It didn't stop the voice.

Young and firm, lean and soft. And her clone sisters! A feeding orgy for Giggerota.

"Stop it! Stop it! STOP IT!" Ginger screamed aloud. The nightmare in her head began to review images of particularly favorite meals in the past. Ginger bent over, sobbing; her eyes screwed shut, hands squeezing her head. She was feeling sick and dizzy. She stumbled, and as she fell, she felt a strong pair of arms steady her.

"Are you alright?"

Ginger practically jumped out of her skin at the unexpected contact. She very nearly lashed out blindly, but at the last instant realized she was being steadied by an Alderaan Guard. He had a kind face and a concerned expression. At that moment, he seemed positively angelic. Ginger smiled up at him briefly before her eyes rolled back as she fainted.

"Easy there," said the guard. His teammate jumped forward, and together they gently laid her down on the floor. "I wonder who she is?" said the first guard, who had caught Ginger as she fell.

"We'll soon find out," replied the second guard. He toggled his communicator. "Team-7 to base. We have a medical emergency." All he got was a garbled response. "Team-7 to base. I say again we have a medical emergency."

The first guard sighed. "Forget about it. This place is hell on communications. We need more repeaters."

"I saw a room with a bed just down that way," replied the second guard with a jerk of his head. "Why don't we get her off the deck?"

The first guard nodded his agreement, and together, they carefully picked up Ginger and carried her down the corridor. After gently placing her on a circular bed, the second guard tried again.

"Team-7 to base… team-7 to base… team-7 to base." The second guard stopped and shook his head. "I will be so glad when we're finally off this creepy ship. I'm going to try farther down the corridor—see if I can contact anyone."

"Hey, wait!" said the first guard as his teammate began to turn away. "She's waking up."

Ginger stirred as her eyes fluttered open. She looked up. The man with the kind face was smiling at her. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

Ginger noticed the second guard—a handsome man, slightly younger than the first. She stretched and smiled broadly before answering.

"Hungry."

As Stanley and Lillie approached the bridge, they could hear an argument up ahead.

"Sorry, no, I don't have time listen to a poem," a man said. He looked up as Stanley and Lillie entered, a look of relief on his face. It was Major Bail Organa.

"But it's important!" insisted 790. "Tell him, Tweedle!" His cart anxiously moved back and forth.

Stanley rolled his eyes. "Give the man a break, 790! No one wants to hear your dreadful poems!"

"Coming from you, that's a complement!" 790 shot back. "You don't know the first thing about poetry. You wouldn't know a good poem if it bit you on the ass!"

The exchange was rapidly descending into a three-way verbal battle when it was interrupted by a voice at the entrance to the bridge.

"I'd like to hear it."

Even 790 lapsed into shocked silence, along with Stanley and Major Bail. It was Viceroy Bail Organa, with Doctor Kitt close behind.

"You would?" 790 said quietly with a mixture of hope and suspicion.

"I would," replied the Viceroy. He stepped forward and smiled. "You must be 790. Xev told me all about you."

790 became very excited. "Is Xev here? Oh, magnificent Xev! My poem is about her, you know. She's only the most wonderful person in all the known universes!"

"Yes, she's an impressive young lady, and dedicated to her friends," replied the Viceroy smoothly. "Which is why she won't be rejoining the Lexx just yet."

"What!" 790 and Stanley exclaimed together. They looked at each other, for once on the same side.

Viceroy Organa held up his hands. "Allow me to explain, but first—might we have some privacy?" He pointedly looked at Major Bail.

"Yes Uncle," Major Bail nodded, and gave a wave. "Right everybody! Anyone who isn't crew on this ship with me!"

As soon as everyone else was gone, both 790 and Stanley began asking questions and making demands, talking over each other without a break. Viceroy Organa allowed them to continue uninterrupted for a couple of minutes, before waving them to stop.

"Gentlebeings," he said, "How can I explain if you don't give me the chance?" He held up Xev's comm unit. "Would you like to hear what Xev has to say?"

That stopped 790 and Stanley for a brief moment.

"It's a waste of time," exclaimed 790 with suspicion. "It's probably some sort of coerced statement!"

The Viceroy nodded patiently. "I understand your concern, and I admire your dedication to Xev. Can you do a voice stress analysis of the recording?"

"That and more!" declared 790. "If there's any deception, I'll spot it!"

"I thought as much," replied the Viceroy, and hesitated. "Shouldn't Kai be present?"

"He's in cryo," replied Stanley. "Go ahead and play it."

Hi guys! It's me, Xev. Love and kisses to you all, especially Kai! Hmm, where to begin…. You know how Yoda had fallen asleep and I couldn't wake him up? Turns out that's not a good thing. He'd been slowly getting sick living on Dagobah because he was living off the land, which doesn't provide all the stuff he needs to stay healthy. The good news is, Yoda just needs to take his vitamins and he'll be all better. The bad news is, he needs help because he's kind of out of it right now and can't take care of himself. That's where I come in. I've agreed to stay here until Yoda is well enough to take care of himself.

I know what you're saying. Why would I do this? Well, I do happen to like the little guy—and no Stanley, not in that way—but I'm mostly doing this for Kai. The people here have something called bacta, a sort of cure-all that can fix almost anything. And guess what? It was developed by an insect species! Ding! Doesn't that sound like protoblood to you? It sure does to me. If bacta works like protoblood, then Kai's supply problems are over! He won't have to stay in cryo anymore! Isn't that great?

I know you're asking, "What's the catch?" and here it is. Bacta is expensive and hard to get thanks to the Empire, so for several reasons I won't go into here, I've agreed to stay on for six months. Stop your crying, 790! You saved me when you fixed my expiration date. You gave me a future, and six months on a planet I happen to like isn't a bad thing. Oh, and don't think I'll die or something at six months plus one day if you aren't here. Bail likes to be careful, so I actually have double what I need.

Also, while I'm here, I really hope you'll agree to work with Bail Organa and his cause. I know I've only met him briefly, but my gut—or maybe it's the Force—tells me he can be trusted. I hope you will too.

Now 790, I know how much you love me and how hard this will be for you, but I want you to cooperate and work with Stanley. If you're having trouble, just ask yourself, "What would Xev do?"

Kai, I can hear it now. "The dead do not care about such things—" like staying alive. You might not have motivation, but I do. I hope bacta can keep you going, because I live for the day when we can find a permanent cure for you.

Stanley? Don't blow up any planets I wouldn't.

That's it for now. Bye-bye! See you in six months or whenever!

"Seriously?" Stanley grumbled. "That's all she has to say to me? 'Don't blow up stuff I wouldn't?'"

"It's more than you deserve," cracked 790.

"What do you think, 790?" Viceroy Organa asked, forestalling further sniping. "Do you believe Xev was under duress?"

"No," 790 replied promptly. "But she could have been misled."

The Viceroy nodded. "I see we have trust issues, and that's fair—we've only just met—but I do hope to gain your trust as we work together." The Viceroy looked at Stanley. "Provided of course, all of you are willing."

"So, bacta huh," said Stanley. "Any idea if it will work?"

"We won't know until we try," replied Organa, "But first, if you can provide a small sample of protoblood—one or two milliliters should do—the lab can run an analysis to see how it compares."

"And I will require a sample of bacta," declared 790, "to run my own tests. It's what Xev would want."

"Agreed," said Viceroy Organa.

"And as for working together as Xev suggested?" Stanley asked. "What sort of thing did you have in mind?"

Viceroy Organa smiled. "Nothing outside of your capabilities," he replied. "Some on my staff have suggested a decapitation strike against the Empire."