Honor

by S. Nankervis Trimmer

Timeline: After the first 24 eps.

Thanks to my beta reader, Kelly, for her encouragement and help.

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If he hadn't paused for that second glass of fermented Bellac Nectar, he would never have found himself in this position. He would never have become what he now was. There were no words vile enough to describe the evil he had become. All for a sip of Bellac Nectar.

D'Argo close his eyes and tried to put from his mind the truth that haunted him.

Would the human never come? D'Argo looked anxiously at the transport bay door. John was late. The human had no idea how pivotal this trip would be to both their lives. John only looked forward to a quick trip to an abandoned Peacekeeper outpost where Sheyang traders were rumored to have the parts necessary to repair the Defense Shield. D'Argo had purposely played down the value of the trip. Had openly doubted the success they would have investigating the rumor. He had laid out the bait and the human had run toward it.

Could he do what he had to do when the time came? Could he trade his soul and John's freedom to save a life? To save his son?

The Sebaceon woman entered the café alone. She was sleek and cold. D'Argo had never seen a more beautiful Sebaceon in his life. Not even Lo'Laan compared with her. Long hair the color of burnished copper. Eyes as pale as ice. She weaved her way through the tables and sat down beside D'Argo. It took him only a moment to realize she was as heartless as she was beautiful.

Her soulless eyes looked into his. She leaned toward him, sensually, but the lack of emotion in her stark face robbed the move of its intent. He felt nothing but revulsion.

"Luxan," she said. "I have something that may interest you."

"There is nothing you can have that would interest me," he answered harshly.

"Oh, Ka D'Argo," she replied, shaking her head ruefully. "I think that I have."

D'Argo felt his moustache bristle. His wattles tingled with apprehension. The Sebaceon knew his name. It was not a good sign. She knew him while he had no idea who she was.

Her hand went to a pouch at her waist. D'Argo's hand reached immediately to the hilt of his Qualta blade. She smiled as she withdrew a holo capsule from the pouch and held it out before her.

The face of a young Luxan male appeared above her hand. He was no more than 11 or 12. Too fair skinned. Too fine boned to be a full blooded Luxan. A boy on the verge of adulthood. A boy with a smile to melt hearts. A beautiful boy with soulful eyes. Lo'Laan's eyes.

D'Argo could not tear his gaze from the holo. He was only vaguely aware of the Sebaceon woman smiling at his side. He reached for it. She closed it in her black gloved fist. The holo disappeared.

"Do I have your interest?" she asked.

"My undivided interest," he said, too quickly, too urgently. He grimaced at being unable to hide his all too obvious hunger to know more.

"Do you know the boy, Jothee? Son of Lo'Laan, a Sebaceon?"

"My son, Sebaceon," he answered.

"As I suspected. Call me Niem."

"What do you want?"

"Crichton."

Aeryn entered the transport bay. She was dressed for travel. There was a pistol holstered on her thigh. She marched determinedly toward D'Argo. She was a distraction he didn't need.

"What are you doing here?" he asked gruffly.

"I'm going with you and Crichton to the outpost," she answered in a brisk, no nonsense tone.

"I think not," he replied.

Aeryn frowned. "And why not?"

Because you'll ruin everything. Because I'll not give that heartless bitch more than she asked for. Because giving her Crichton is far bad enough. I will not compound the crime by endangering you as well.

How could he dissuade this woman once she had made up her mind. She could be more stubborn than anyone he had ever met. He would have to come up with some story to keep her on Moya or his plans were lost and so was Jothee.

"I don't think you really want to go and spoil John's surprise, do you?" he asked.

Her frown deepened. "Surprise? What surprise? John said you were going to the outpost to secure parts to repair the Defense Shield."

D'Argo laughed. "And you believed that lame story? It is the best he could come up with. I told him it was too thin, that you would never believe it. I guess he knows you better than I do."

"Story? What are you talking about?"

D'Argo let out a long exaggerated sigh. He leaned toward her and motioned her nearer. She stepped cautiously closer.

"We are going to the outpost to get something for you," he whispered. "A gift."

"A gift? For me? For what?" The frown left her face to be replaced by a look of shock.

D'Argo laughed again. "Full of questions, aren't you?" She didn't answer. "Don't ask. I've already said too much."

Aeryn smiled. "A gift for me."

D'Argo nodded knowingly. "Now get out of here before you ruin everything."

Aeryn glanced over her shoulder at the door. "Right." She spun about and hurried out of the transport bay.

D'Argo's hearts felt like lumps in his chest. Yet another lie.

"Where is Scorpius?" D'Argo asked.

"Scorpius is on Crais' ship somewhere, combing the Uncharted Territories in search of Crichton and Moya," Niem answered.

"Since you know we're here, why don't you just attack Moya and take Crichton? Why do you need me?"

"Scorpius says he was told the human would kill himself before he let himself be captured again. An attack on your ship would give him ample time to complete the deed. The human is of value only while he lives. I believe the only way to capture Crichton alive is to trick him into coming to a place he believes is safe and taking him by surprise."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you and Jothee are part of my plan to get Crichton back."

"How did you find out about Jothee?" D'Argo asked.

"Crichton, of course." Niem smiled. This time it was a genuine smile. A far off, pleased look came to her face. "Scorpius was in such a rush to have Crichton back, he left the Gammak Base without fully utilizing the information gathered by the Aurora Chair. I, on the other hand, recognized its importance. When I was forced to leave the Gammak Base to avoid your attack, I brought the information with me. I took the time to look it over carefully. The time necessary to glean from the human's thoughts evidence of a trusted friend. A friend willing to accompany Crichton on a surely fatal mission, such as the one launched on the Gammak Base. A friend he was willing to die with. A friend with a past who could be persuaded to betray him. That friend is you."

"Never!" D'Argo snarled.

"Then resign yourself to your son's death. I possess him only in order to secure Crichton. That is the only value he has to me. If he can not gain me Crichton, then he is worthless to me. I dispose of worthless things. I will dispose of him."

"No!" D'Argo reached for her throat.

"Your son will die if I do not return to my men at the appointed time," she said coldly.

D'Argo lowered his hands. "You would kill an innocent child?"

"I would do far worse to please Scorpius," she answered.

Chiana bounced into the transport bay wearing her long traveling coat. She sidled up close to D'Argo and placed a hand on his arm. Cocking her head to one side, she smiled.

"Room for one more?" she asked.

"Not today, little one," he answered.

She frowned. "Why not? I could help with the negotiations, you know. It takes a good liar to know a good liar. I can keep them from selling you a Hynerian donkey for all those Orican treasures you're going to trade. Which, I might add, I can't believe you're doing."

D'Argo reached out and ran his finger down her cheek. "Thank you for the offer, but no, you can't go. It would be too dangerous. The Sheyang are unpredictable. Strength is all they understand. And no matter how formidable I know you are, to the Sheyang you would only appear young and weak."

Chiana gave a small laugh. "You think I'm formidable?"

"Very," he answered, smiling.

Chiana ducked her head, trying to hide the broad grin which had spread across her face. She visibly collected herself. "Still," she said. "You and Crichton are just too honest. Neither of you knows how to bluff. Neither of you could win a round of Resleann with nothing in your hand. I can. I have. Take me with you. I'll prove myself."

"You've proved yourself to me already, little one. I will not risk the treasure I've found in you. You can't go. That is final."

"No matter what I say?" she asked, her bright dark eyes looking up into his.

"No matter what."

She backed away and snapped her fingers loudly, a gesture she had learned from Crichton. "I should've asked John. He's easier to reason with. None of that Luxan honor to get in the way."

D'Argo felt as if she had sent a blade through one of his hearts. What honor? He had none. He smiled.

"I guess I was lucky he wasn't here."

"I guess you were. See you when you get back. If you see anything you think I might like, I wouldn't turn it down if you brought it back."

"I'll look," he said.

She smiled over her shoulder as she sauntered from the room, her long coat swaying suggestively about her hips. She took the light of her smile with her as she disappeared down the corridor leaving him alone in the darkness of his dishonor.

"How do I know you really have Jothee?" D'Argo asked. Hoping against hope she could not prove she had his son. Hoping he wouldn't have to make the choice he knew she was going to offer him.

Niem held out another crystal. A holo of herself and Jothee appeared above her outstretched hand. She had her arm about his son's shoulders. Jothee was smiling up at her happily.

"Convinced?"

"Holo's can be altered," he said.

She reached into her pouch and pulled forth a tissue wrapped article which she placed on the table before him. She indicated he should open it. D'Argo's hands hesitated as they reached for the package. If he opened it and there was something inside that proved her words without a doubt true, what would he do? She meant for him to betray John. John, who had come to his aid unfailingly. John, who had saved his life more times than he could count. John, who had stood beside him in battle and trusted him with his life. D'Argo closed his eyes and found his hands shaking.

Niem pushed the package closer.

D'Argo picked it up. It weighed next to nothing. Carefully he opened the tissue to reveal its contents. A band of intricately woven black and red hair studded with beads of pale blue and white. Lo'Laan's family's colors. The band of her own hair and his that she had woven as a bracelet for their newborn son. A good luck talisman given to Sebaceon children by their mothers. The last time he had seen it was when he placed it on a cord about his son's neck the day he had sent Jothee into hiding.

"Where did you get this?" he demanded.

"Need you ask," she replied. "Test the genetic content if you doubt its authenticity."

He glared at her but said nothing.

"Now are you willing to negotiate?" she asked.

D'Argo turned the talisman over and over in his hand. The longer it took for Crichton to get here, the harder it was to keep from going mad. His decision to betray his friend swirled through his mind like a storm. How had he come to find himself with his honor so completely torn from him? A Luxan had only two things in his life to which he owed complete allegiance, his family and his honor. Those two allegiances were never suppose to come into conflict. Not like they did now.

"D'Argo?"

Zhaan's voice so unexpectedly close startled D'Argo out of his reveries. Startled him so much that he dropped the talisman on the floor. Zhaan stooped and picked it up.

"I'm sorry if I alarmed you," she said. "You were so absorbed with your thoughts, you must not have heard me speaking to you as I entered."

"No, I guess I didn't," D'Argo answered.

"What's troubling you, my friend?"

"What are you talking about?" D'Argo replied, trying to keep the edge out of his voice.

"There has been something on your mind these last few days which is distressing you deeply. I came to see if you wanted to talk about it. I wondered if this trip to the outpost is more dangerous than you have lead us to believe."

"The trip will most likely prove to be a waste of time," D'Argo answered. "If the Sheyangs had enough spare parts to repair a Defense Shield, more than likely they would build one for their own use rather than sell it. Still it can not hurt to check this rumor out."

"Then, is it parting with the possessions the Orican gave you which troubles you?"

D'Argo nodded. "Perhaps. A little. She did mean a great deal to me, Zhaan. She was the first Luxan I'd seen in over 8 cycles. I lost her almost as I found her. The things she gave me are important to me, not only because they are Luxan artifacts, but because they remind me of her. I feel a traitor for considering parting with them."

"Don't think so, sweet D'Argo. If trading her possessions will bring you safely back to your son, I think the Orican would be glad to see her gifts used so. After all, family is the most important thing to a Luxan, isn't it?"

"Family and honor," D'Argo answered.

"You have honor, my friend," Zhaan said. "And with luck, soon you will have your son as well. Then you will have both." Zhaan gave a start and looked down at the talisman in her hand as if just remembering it. "What's this?" she asked.

"A good luck talisman," D'Argo answered. "Lo'Laan made it for Jothee when he was born."

"And you have managed to keep it hidden from the Peacekeepers all these years?" She tapped him on the chest. "There must be more room in that little pouch than I suspected."

She tried to give the talisman back to D'Argo. He shook his head and refused to take it.

"Keep it safe for me awhile. Good luck talismans work best when you give them to others," he said.

The comment tore at his hearts as he remembered John giving him the ring talisman as they walked hand in hand into the cold vacuum of space. He had lost it and John had never begrudged him that.

"If it brings you luck on your mission to give this away, then I will take it. But I wouldn't want to keep so great a treasure. It will be waiting for you on your return, sweet D'Argo. Good luck."

Zhaan clutched the talisman to her chest as she left the transport bay.

"Yes," he said. "I will negotiate." How readily he sold his honor. He didn't even ask the price. He left the price to her. He would give her anything she asked for his son. Anything, if it meant Jothee lived.

She smiled. "Good." She reached into the pouch again and extracted a crystal which she slid across the table to him. "You will find the coordinates of an abandoned Peacekeeper outpost in this. Have Crichton there fifty arns from now. Come alone. Only the two of you. There I will exchange your son for Crichton."

"In fifty arns," D'Argo said. He began to rise but she put her hand on his arm and stopped him. "There is more?"

"I'm not fool enough to trust you completely, Luxan. I intend to ensure your complete cooperation. I will have Jothee's neck fitted with a Lysan slave collar to make sure you do nothing foolish at the exchange. Do you know what a Lysan slave collar is?" D'Argo shook his head. "A small hollow tube which circles the neck, filled with explosives and fitted with a remotely controlled detonator . Should I even think you plan to deceive me, I will detonate the collar. I will kill your son."

"I understand. I'll do nothing to stop your plan. You have my word. Yet I must warn you. Once Crichton figures out what's happening, I do not think he will go quietly. Not even for my son."

"Your job is to deliver him alive. Our ship will be hidden beneath the outpost. Out of sensor range. He should know nothing until it is too late." She eyed him suspiciously. "Know this, should you try to rescue him once you have your son with you, I will detonate the collar. It can not be removed without the code. I will send you the code only after you are well away from the outpost. I don't want you, whether you're an escaped prisoner or not. I only want Crichton. But I will not hesitate to kill anyone who gets in the way of my goal. Do you understand all that I've said. If you have questions, ask them now. During the exchange will be too late."

D'Argo stood up. "I understand you perfectly."

He headed for the door alone. Leaving his honor behind. He did not look back.

John rushed into the transport bay and skidded to a halt in front of D'Argo. He had a gun and holster thrown over his shoulder, a package in his hand, an apologetic look on his red face.

"Sorry about that," he panted. "I thought we might like a snack on the trip. I stopped by the galley to get one. Buckwheat the Magnificent was there. He decided that he was going to give me the Reader's Digest version of Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Negotiations But Were Afraid To Ask. Didn't think I'd ever get out of there. Still, Sparky had a few good ideas. Hey, D'Argo, you listening?"

John's question cut through the fog that was threatening to overpower D'Argo's mind. He nodded. "Yes, John. Don't worry about it. We have plenty of time. There's no rush."

"Plenty of time?"

"I mean, it doesn't matter when we get there."

John held his package up in the air. "I got some of the good stuff," he whispered. conspiratorially. "The girls'll never miss it. At least, not until it's too late." He grinned. "A little hazard pay for drawing Sheyang duty. Hope we have better luck negotiating with this bunch of fire breathing toads than we had with the last."

"Let's hope so," D'Argo answered. He stooped over and picked up the satchel full of artifacts. "Let's get this over with."

D'Argo sat over the transport controls, but had long ago stopped paying attention to the readings. He was going to see his son again. After over eight cycles. Did Jothee remember anything about him? His son had been so young when they parted. Had they even told Jothee he was going to be with his father again? He felt was if he could not draw breath. It was difficult to contain his excitement.

It was also difficult to contain the selfloathing he felt. What would his son think of his newly found father when that father turned a trusting friend over to his enemies? He would have his son's body with him again, but would lose his son's hearts? Would Jothee understand? How could he justify to the youngster what he could not justify to himself? How could he live with himself once the deed was done? How could he live with himself if he let his son die? He steeled himself to the task. It only mattered that Jothee lived. Anything, that Jothee lived. Anything. Even his honor.

"That's funny," John said as they approached the outpost. "I don't see a ship on the sensors. You sure this is the place? Doesn't look like anyone's home."

"Yes. This is where the items are suppose to be stored. The Peacekeepers left behind some large structures which the Sheyang found fit their purposes well. I don't think that scavengers such as the Sheyang would leave anything of their's unguarded. We are sure to find someone inside one of the buildings. The fewer Sheyang here, the better. Fewer to argue over the price with."

"Guess you're right. Hadn't thought of that. I don't mind telling you though, I'm a bit nervous about meeting these guys again. The last time didn't go too good. Or maybe it's that thinking of Sheyangs reminds me of meeting Gilina. Lucky day for me, that one. I never would have survived on the Gammak Base without her." John voice broke. He closed his eyes and stopped talking.

D'Argo thought about the Gammak Base as well. Of how their trip there had changed so much in their lives. If they hadn't gone, Aeryn would have died. Gilina would have lived. Moya would still have her child. And Niem would never have looked for and found his son.

"It was a trip that effected all our lives," D'Argo confirmed. "In more ways than we ever could have guessed."

"Yeah," John said. "It worked out for the best for most of us, but not Gilina. She would have been better off never to have met me."

"We all have someone in our lives we would have been better off not to have met."

John laughed. "That certainly is true. More so for me than most. Crais, Durka, Scorpius, just to hit the highlights. Course, I've been lucky too. Getting towed into Moya when I blasted into this end of the universe was pretty lucky for me. Otherwise, I'd have probably suffocated all alone in the cold. Or been dissected like a lab rat by my buddy Crais before the end of my first day here."

"Mmmm. Lucky," D'Argo said.

"You're awful quiet, big fella. There something bothering you? You wanna talk about it?"

The urge to tell all was almost overwhelming. D'Argo found himself blinking back tears. His weakness was going to cost his son's life if he wasn't careful. His weakness was already costing his friend's life. That was almost more than he could bear. Almost.

"No, nothing," he answered.

John shrugged. "Whatever you say. Just offering. That's what friends are for, you know."

D'Argo wondered how many blows his hearts could take before they stopped beating. Before they betrayed him as he had betrayed all his shipmates this day. He wished John would stop talking. It was a vain wish. John never stopped talking. The human's comments were often on the point when he meant them to be. Today, without knowing it, they were like arrows in D'Argo's soul.

They landed outside the outpost's largest compound. There was no one to be seen. D'Argo tried to act as if all were as it should be, but John sensed his nervousness as they walked across the deserted courtyard.

"A little too quiet, isn't it?" the human asked. "The hairs on the back of my neck are standing up. How 'bout your's?"

"Stiff as a stick," D'Argo answered.

John gave a small laugh, "Stiff as a board," he corrected.

"It's going to be fine," D'Argo replied. "They must be busy. We'll find someone soon enough."

"I got a bad feeling about this place, Chewy, a real bad feeling."

"Chewy?" D'Argo asked lightly, trying to distract John, distract himself.

John laughed again. "Long story. Great swords though. Light sabers. You'd like it. I'll tell you about it sometime."

"I would enjoy that."

D'Argo pushed open a door on the largest building and entered. There was illumination inside. John hesitated at the threshold.

"Maybe we should knock," John said, peeking through the doorway.

"Let's go," D'Argo answered. "There must be someone here, there is light."

They walked down a long wide corridor. There was debris scattered everywhere, as if the Peacekeepers had left the outpost in a great hurry. There were also signs of recent use. The dust in the center of the corridor was scattered by the passing of many feet.

They rounded a corner and entered a large room. In the center of the room was a tarp covered piece of equipment surrounded by various control panels.

"Think that's it?" John asked.

Before D'Argo could answer, doors on the opposite side of the room burst open and Peacekeepers poured through them. In their midst was Niem leading a hooded figure. The Peacekeepers were armed, but had not drawn their weapons. John, however, had his pulse pistol firmly pointed at Niem. D'Argo drew his blade.

"Of all the rotten luck," John said, shaking his head. "Well, damn! If it isn't my old friend. Let me introduce you, D'Argo. Say hello to Peacekeeper Barbie. Where's your lord and master, sweetheart? Where's my buddy, Scorpy?"

"I've kept my part of the bargain, Luxan," Niem said. "Keep yours."

She pulled the hood from Jothee's head. His son stood blinking, disoriented by the bright lights. There was a silver collar about his neck. Niem held up a small silver box. The detonator. Her threat was obvious.

"Bargain?" John asked, his eyes still on the Peacekeepers. "Is that a Luxan? Hey, D'Argo, what's going on here?"

D'Argo brought his blade down on the pistol in John's hand, knocking it out of the human's grip. It discharged harmlessly into the floor. John spun toward D'Argo, a look of confusion on his face.

"What the hell is..."

D'Argo struck John in the face with the butt end of his blade. John's head snapped back and he collapsed to the floor. A moment later he was surrounded by Peacekeepers who had him firmly restrained. Niem smiled.

John shook his head and glared at D'Argo. His lip was cut and bleeding. "Bargain? You sold me out? Et too, Brutus?" John let out a long maniacal laugh. "Oh, you know the good guys are in big trouble when they start quoting Shakespeare. What did they promise you, Brutus? What am I worth? What's the going price to sell out a friend?"

D'Argo hung his head. "Jothee," he whispered.

Niem stepped forward and pulled the tarp off the equipment in the center of the room. It was a circular device with a chair in it. As the tarp came away, John let out a scream the likes of which D'Argo had never heard from the human before.

"No! No! Not again! Not the chair!" John cried, struggling to pull free from the grip of his captors. He spat blood at D'Argo. "I hope there is an afterlife, D'Argo. I hope the frell there is 'cause I'm gonna haunt you from it. I'm gonna haunt you to your grave. You'll never get a moment's peace. Do you hear me? Not one. I'll make your life a living hell." John's eyes stole back to the device. "Believe me, I know what hell is."

"Send me my son," D'Argo said.

Niem looked at Jothee. "Go," she said. "We both have what we want."

The Peacekeepers drug the kicking and struggling John toward the chair, and began to strap him in. Niem moved to the control panel. D'Argo couldn't watch. Couldn't look at what he'd done. Couldn't keep his eyes off his son.

Jothee made his way uncertainly across the room. He was as tall as a Peacekeeper already. Slight, with broad shoulders and a graceful stride. His eyes were pale like his mother's. His face so like hers too. D'Argo sheathed his blade. He held his hand out to his son.

"Traitor!" John shouted.

Jothee stopped and looked from D'Argo to John and back again.

"Come to me, my son," D'Argo said, stretching his hand out before him. "Let us leave this place."

"Don't you leave me here, you son of a bitch!" John screamed.

D'Argo held his arms open and Jothee stepped into his embrace. D'Argo folded his arms about his son and breathed in deeply of his scent. Warm and rich. More Sebaceon than Luxan. His son's thin strong arms circled about him, hugging him fiercely.

"Father," Jothee said.

The horror of John's cries left D'Argo at that moment as he basked in the sound of his son's voice. The cost didn't matter. Not now. Perhaps tomorrow. Now there was only room in his hearts for joy. His long wait was over. He had his lost son back.

Then, as John had said on so many occasions, all hell broke loose.

Pulse rifle blasts split the air, catching the Peacekeepers completely unaware. Aeryn, Zhaan, and Chiana had entered the room. Each had a rifle. Each was spraying the room with gunfire.

"No!" D'Argo screamed. Niem still had the detonator. "Stop!"

"Defend me!" Niem shouted as she sprinted for the far door. The silver box slid from her hand and fell to the floor as she ran.

D'Argo closed his eyes with relief. His son was safe from the collar, but not from the gunfire. He pushed Jothee behind him and drew his blade. A Peacekeeper setting his sights on Chiana was the first to fall to a Qualta blade blast.

John sat helplessly strapped in the chair. For a moment D'Argo thought to make a sprint toward him to free him, then he realized that John was the safest one in the room. Neither side would fire on him. Both sides wanted him alive. The only danger the human was in was from a stray shot.

The rest of Moya's crew did not share John's defense, but the women stood their ground, guns blazing. Return fire blots barely missing them as the dodged and shot. Each of the women had a determined look on her face that spoke death to her enemies. D'Argo would not have wanted to face them. Neither, it seemed, did the Peacekeepers, who fled the room after losing a third of their number in the first rush of gunfire.

Just as it seemed victory was at hand, D'Argo felt a searing pain in his back. He let out a snarl. A second blow robbed him of his breath. Made his vision blur. As he turned to see what was causing the pain, he saw Aeryn spin toward him. She aimed her rifle in his direction, at Jothee, and pulled the trigger.

"No!" D'Argo shouted.

Too late. Too late.

The bolt hit his son, sending him flying backwards. A thin, blood covered blade flashed in his hand. He dropped it as he fell to the floor.

"Jothee!"

D'Argo fell to his knees beside his wounded son. It took him only a moment to realize the shot was fatal. His son lay writhing in pain on the floor.

"My son," he cried. D'Argo tried to gather the boy into his arms.

Jothee pushed him away. "I'm not your son!" he shouted. He tore the wattle from his chin. Pulled the flesh locks away from his head, revealing himself to be a Sebaceon. "I'm not your son, defiler of women! Destroyer of families. Stealer of honor!"

"Who...who..?" D'Argo stammered.

"I'm Magdan. Lieutenant Magdan Towl. Grendor division. Lo'Laan's nephew. Macton's son."

"Nephew? Macton? You are Magdan? The little boy I once gave a stuffed shangren?"

"The day before you kidnaped my aunt. The day before you lay waste to my family's good name. Despoiler of women! You robbed us of honor. You shamed my family. You shamed my father. He died of that shame. You can die too!"

Magdan reached for the blade that lay beside him. Aeryn kicked it aside. Magdan gave up the effort. He became paler and began gasping for breath.

"I didn't mean for anything bad to happen when I fell in love with Lo'Laan. I didn't plan what was to come." D'Argo closed his eyes. "Had I known...had I known...perhaps I would have done things differently. So many innocent people have suffered. So much pain has been caused. All because I loved a woman."

"Loved? You kidnapped her! You raped her! She died having your child, you monster! My father told me. He told me all of it. Every horrible detail. Before he died. He made me promise to avenge her. To avenge my family. To win back our honor. Imprisonment was not just punishment for what you did to her. To our family. Only your death will bring our honor back."

"That's not what happened. It wasn't like that," D'Argo said. "It wasn't me..." He paused. What good would the truth do the boy now?

Magdan laughed. "I've seen what you're capable of doing to get what you want," he replied. "I've seen you betray your friend. You are exactly what my father said you were. All that he said and more."

Magdan began coughing. D'Argo reached out to him, but Magdan batted his hand away. With a groan, the breath left Magdan's body. His lifeless eyes stared up at D'Argo from a face still twisted with hate.

Aeryn put her hand on D'Argo's shoulder. He shrugged it off and rose. He could not face looking at Magdan's body. Yet another death caused by his love for Lo'Laan.

He turned away from Magdan just in time to see John's fist flashing toward his face. In time to see the blow, but not to react to it. John's fist caught him squarely on the chin. It sent him reeling over backward.

"You two-faced, snake headed, forktongued, son of a bitch," John shouted as he loomed over D'Argo. "I ought to kill you!"

"John," Zhaan cried. "Don't you understand? He thought this boy was his son."

"I don't care what he thought. No one....no one is sending me back to that chair. Ever! Do ya'all understand that! I'll kill the next person who tries. I don't care who it is. I don't care for what reason. I'm not going back to the chair!"

John stormed out of the building. Aeryn ran after John. Zhaan watched them go, her face twisted with anger. Chiana stood a few feet away looking at the floor.

"I deserved that," D'Argo said to Zhaan as he forced himself to his feet. "That and much worse. What he says is true. I betrayed him. I sent him to a fate he considers worse than death."

"Hey, guys," Chiana said. "We don't have time to chat. We have to get out of here. Back to Moya. Now! Before those grunts come back with reinforcements. We've got to starburst the frell out of here. Let's get going!"

D'Argo's vision began to swim. Zhaan placed her hand on his back to steady him. A look of shock came over her face. When she brought her hand away it was covered with blood. He remembered no more.

D'Argo awoke to find Zhaan sitting on his bed next to him. Aeryn and Chiana were sitting on the floor playing a game of Resleann. Rygel was asleep in his hoverchair in the corner. There was no sign of John.

Zhaan smiled at him. "Magdan was good at his work," she said. "One more blow would have finished you."

D'Argo coughed. The action hurt him as bad as the original blow had. He tried to smile back at her, but his hearts weren't in it.

"I was a fool. How did you know? How did you know to come looking for us?"

Chiana laughed. "I told you you were a bad liar. You should have told us all the same story. When we got together to eat, we soon discovered you had told us each a separate tale."

"The talisman," Zhaan said. "I did a genetic scan on it. I didn't have much to go on concerning Lo'Laan, but I discovered the hair wasn't your's. Wasn't 12 cycles old either. And the black hair had come from a male, not a female."

"And I figured out that chest pouch of your's would never hold anything that big," Chiana said.

"Nor made of protein," Aeryn added. "Your body would have rejected it long ago or tried to dissolve it."

Zhaan touched his shoulder. "We didn't know what we would find at the outpost, we only knew you were lying about something. When we heard John screaming, we knew it couldn't be good. Aeryn decided we should go in shooting and ask questions later. Chiana and I agreed."

"Where is John?" D'Argo asked.

"I think you better leave John alone for awhile," Chiana said. "I don't think he's ready to talk to you."

"You wounded him deeply D'Argo," Aeryn said. "Your motives don't matter to him, at least not now. Perhaps, in time, he'll understand why you did what you did, but I don't know if he'll ever forgive you."

"I'm not sure I deserve to be forgiven," D'Argo replied.

"Neither am I," Aeryn answered.

John was on the terrace gazing off into space when D'Argo made his slow way there. His wounds troubled him, but he could not rest. He had to see John. He knew John liked to come here to think. To look at the stars. To dream of home. D'Argo liked the terrace as well. They had had many an enjoyable talk here among the stars. D'Argo hoped that being in a place with so many good memories would help him repair the rift between them.

"Can we talk?" he asked as he approached John.

"About what?" John returned, his tone far from friendly. He didn't look at D'Argo as he spoke.

"About what I did."

"I can't see where you'd have much to say about that. Actions speak louder than words, Judas. You took the thirty pieces of silver. You made a deal with the devil. You sold your soul. Nothing you can say will change that."

"Will you listen to me? To what I have to say?"

John gazed up at the stars. "You know, there's an old saying on Earth, it goes like this; Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. I'm never gonna let you fool me again, D'Argo. You don't know what it's like in that chair. You don't know what kind of hell you consigned me to. And in the end, what would it have been for? For nothing."

"I thought he was my son, John."

John cut him off with a sharp gesture. Glared at him. "But he wasn't, was he? I trusted you, D'Argo, and you betrayed me. I'd still be in that chair with the mistress of darkness sucking my brains out if the girls hadn't come along. Don't mean to rain on your parade, friend," he made the word sound vile. "You screwed up. Big time."

"John, I'm sorry..."

"Don't! Don't even start with that crap! Sorry ain't gonna cut it. Not this time."

"I thought I could save my son."

"So you traded my life for his. My life. Mine! Without even asking."

"And if I had asked?"

John leaned close to him, his voice a whispered rasp, "We'll never know the answer to that one now, will we?" Without another word, another look, John marched out of the terrace.

D'Argo looked up at the thousands of stars filling the darkness of space. They were beautiful. Thousands of sparks of light. Thousands of suns. One of them shone gently down on his son. Which one he might never know. Which one he might not find before the Peacekeepers who were surely hunting for it now did.

Would there ever be a way to make up for what he'd done? To win back the trust he'd ruined? When honor is lost, can it ever be found again?

There was no sunshine in space. There was no warmth or comfort in her black emptiness. What little comfort his hearts had known these last lonely cycles, he had known on this ship. And now?

How could love, which was like the sunshine, leave such a trail of cold darkness in its wake? How could love, so good and true, have caused so much damage to so many lives? When would end the sorrow his few moments of loving Lo'Laan still cost?

"Lo'Laan, my love, what have I become? Will I ever find our son? Will I always fail those I love?"

D'Argo turned his tearstained face to the stars, his hearts longing vainly for comfort and an answer.