There's No Place Like Home: 5
By Joe SmithSUMMARY:A Farscape / Dominic Flandry crossover
SPOILERS:None
Notes and Disclaimer: See part I
“I demand that you take me to Jothee—IMMEDIATELY!” The angry Luxan roared as he lunged towards his captors, barely holding his hyper-rage in check at the last moment as he saw the Merseian guards level their blaster rifles at him. The blood still in his eyes, D’Argo reluctantly returned to the cold slab that served as his bench and bed, cursing both the Cherionite and his half-Scarran ally in a low, menacing tone as he sat down.
“I understand your anxiety, Ka’ D’Argo…” Aycharaych trilled in a soothing voice, his low, musical voice calming somewhat the enraged Luxan, “And you shall soon be reunited with your son. But first we wish to talk to you.”
“Go ahead.” D’Argo growled, not bothering to hide his hatred or disgust at his captors and their dishonorable methods.
“Have you thought any more about our…proposal?” Scorpius then asked, flashing an icy smile at the imprisoned Luxan.
“You know I have—you frelling piece of dren!” The Luxan warrior spat out, his tentacles waving about as he shook his head in his rage.
“Of course you have…” Scorpius smiled condescendingly down on his tool. “And your decision?”
“Why don’t you have your friend tell you?” D’Argo growled, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “After all—isn’t he supposed to be a telepath?”
Nodding his head in agreement, the Cherionite smiled, “He’ll do as we ask—but first he wants proof of our bona fides—a thoroughly understandable request on his part.” Aycharaych smiled benignly on the Luxan as he spoke, and then turning to one of the Merseian guards, he commanded, “Tell Commander Dwyanfor to have our other guest escorted to the conference room in fifteen standard minutes.
“Sir!” The greenskinned guard saluted as he went to carry out his orders.
“Is that adequate proof of our honorable intentions, Ka’ D’Argo?” Aycharaych asked in a soft tone as his mind gently probed that of the Luxan’s.
“It will have to do.” D’Argo reluctantly agreed. “If I see that my son has been unharmed and well treated and if I have assurances that he will be released safe and sound…then I will do as you ask.” The Luxan finished, hanging his head in shame.
His mental scan confirming the Luxan’s words, Aycharaych spoke again, once more using a tone and words deliberately calculated to soothe his prisoner’s anguish while at the same time reminding him of the decadence of the Terran Empire, “I know this is a hard decision for you, D’Argo. I hope we can convince you of the correctness of it—whether you believe me or not, you’ll be known as the savior of your people—as the Luxan who kept his proud and warrior race from falling under the dominion and influence of the Terrans.”
*************************
“Thank you for escorting us, Lieutenant Braca.” Alana smiled as she once again offered her hand to the diffident Peacekeeper. “If you would…why don’t you join me for dinner here in…oh—a couple of arns?”
“Ummmm…Madame…I’m not sure…that is…I don’t think I should be…” The standoffish Braca stumbled as the alluring bronze skinned Terran aristocrat grinned impishly at his discomfort.
“Now, Lieutenant…” The Marquessa playfully chided, “I don’t bite…” She then flashed a mischievous grin, “No…that’s not completely the truth—I do bite—but I promise—I won’t bite you. Anyway—if you’re going to be my liaison for the next few weeks or so until this unpleasantness is settled, then wouldn’t things go much better if we got to know each other in a social situation?”
“Uhhhh…yes, Madame…I guess so…” The words stumbled out of the Peacekeeper’s mouth as he regarded the petite human standing before him, her exotic looks and the delicate hint of jasmine from her perfume stirring unfamiliar feelings in the dutiful officer.
“Great! I’ll meet you in a couple of arns then…” Thinking quickly, the Marquessa then added with a carefully calculated smile, “Oh…would you mind terribly if Rygel accompanies you so that you two could hash out a visitation schedule? We’d like to see D’Argo as soon as possible, you understand.”
“Yes, Madame.” The Lieutenant smiled uncomfortably as he and the Hynerian left the Marquessa and Zhaan alone in her quarters.
As soon as both women were sure that the Peacekeeper and the Dominar had disappeared down the corridor, Zhaan turned to Alana, and speaking in fluent Japanese, asked, “Is what Aycharaych said true—are you pregnant?” Seeing the human nod her head, Zhaan continued her questioning, “And is John the father?” As Alana once again nodded her head in reply, Zhaan then asked, “When are you going to tell him?”
“Not immediately.” Alana sighed as she sat down, motioning for the Delvian priestess to join her on the couch.
“Why not? You do understand he has a right to know?” Zhaan said in a maternal voice as she regarded the proud Terran aristocrat beside her, her eyes moistening with tears.
“Yes…I know…” Alana sobbed, “But you see, Zhaan…I can’t tell him…not until he decides where he’s going and what he’s going to do about…”
“Aeryn.” The Delvian said in a soft voice as she placed a protective arm around the crying woman.
Nodding her head, Alana cried for several minutes on the Pau’s shoulder, until, her tears exhausted, the Marquessa straightened up, and, regaining her aristocratic bearing, continued, “Zhaan…I know that all I’d have to do to keep John with me is to tell him. He’s the sort of man that would instinctively throw everything away to be with us because of his sense of responsibility. And I know that he’d be a good father…and a good husband…but he wouldn’t be happy…not really…not where it counted…because he doesn’t love me.”
“I see…” Zhaan smiled warmly down on the young woman beside her, “But he does need to know eventually…”
“I know. I was thinking about waiting until he settles things with Aeryn. If they don’t get together—then I’ll tell him. If they do…I’ll wait a little longer before springing my little bombshell on him—you know—give them time to get comfortable together…have children of their own and build a life…then I’ll tell both of them—and explain why.”
“Why did you choose to get pregnant with John’s child?” Zhaan asked, unable to keep the curiosity out of her voice.
Laughing gently at her confessor’s gentle, yet nosy, inquiry, Alana smiled warmly, “Short version—I need an heir to the Marquisate. My brother’s not exactly the most…capable…individual, and his son’s just a baby, so I can’t will it to him—my brother would just take it over in his name and ruin all the hard work me, my father, and all the others who’ve held the Marquisate before us have put into it—and I’m not about to let that happen.” The Marquessa finished, holding her head high. Then, dropping her head as she allowed the Delvian Pau to comfort her, Alana continued, “I was looking for someone who’d make a good candidate—someone who’d be willing to supply the seed, but not stick around afterwards—if you know what I mean.” Seeing Zhaan’s compassionate nod of the head, Alana continued, “When I saw the holographic image of John before we met all of you, I thought that he was the ideal candidate—attractive, rugged, good genetic stock…”
Zhaan couldn’t help but nod her head in agreement at the oriental woman’s assessment of John. Since their time together in Unity, the sensuous Delvian had, on occasion, the idle fantasy or daydream of what it would be like to be physically intimate with her human companion. “So…at first you didn’t see him as anything more than a…what…idle diversion…a sperm donor?”
Nodding her head guiltily, Alana admitted, “Yeah…at first that was it—he was going to be just a little dalliance—and a stud—that was all. But—as I got to know him on our flight to Terra—he…got to me—if you know what I mean.” Seeing the wise woman nod her head in sympathy, Alana smiled wanly, “And then later…the nightmares…”
Zhaan held her sobbing companion for several minutes as she cried, until, unable to cry any further, the Terran noble again spoke, “Like I told you…he’s in so much pain, Zhaan…that chip is destroying him slowly from the inside…”
“I know my dear,” The Delvian priestess comforted, “And I think I have a way of negating it—but we’ll have to wait for the right time. Be patient—be strong.”
“I will Zhaan.” The Marquessa said as she regained her composure, “And, thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Alana.” The wise priestess smiled up at her companion. “But…If I may, I do have one more concern.” Stopping until she saw the Terran aristocrat nod her head, Zhaan then continued, “I think I know what you’re planning to do with Braca.” Flashing a wicked grin at her fellow female, the sensuous Delvian went on, whispering in the ear of her human companion, “Under normal circumstances, I’d approve—it’s a good plan…he seems quite easy to manipulate, but now that you’re carrying John’s child within you…aren’t you taking a big risk?”
A serious look on her face, Alana thought for several moments before answering, also in a whisper, “You’re right…I’m going to be walking a mighty fine line, but I’ll still be following the letter, if not the spirit, of the terms of the Covenant of Alfzar. You see, Zhaan, I won’t be engaging in any active acts of espionage or sabotage—so I’m not violating any of the terms of my parole—you understand?”
“I believe so.” The Delvian nodded her head, “But it’s a fine line, my child—be careful—not just for your own sake, but also for that of John’s and of your child’s.”
“I will, Zhaan.” Alana smiled back as she spoke at in a normal voice. “Now…I need your help in deciding—should I wear this…” Alana held up a pastel evening gown that was translucent when the light was just so, “Or this?” Alana then held up another gown, this one designed to leave the left breast bare.
“I think the first.” Zhaan flashed a wicked grin. “I don’t think Lieutenant Braca would be able to deal with the second.
“You’re right, Zhaan.” Alana chuckled, “That poor boy would have a heart attack if I wore that one.” Then an impish smile crossed her lips, “But do set it aside…if all goes well, I’m going to need it in the near future.”
***********************
As D’Argo was brought into the conference room, he saw a Merseian officer at one end of the table, using his thick and muscular tail as the rear part of a tripod along with his legs, allowing him to relax in a seated position without using a chair. “Greetings, Ka’ D’Argo—is it? I am Dwyanfor of the Vach Rueth. Be welcomed.” He then motioned towards a chair opposite him.
Taking the offered seat, the Luxan growled in a low voice, “Where is my son? I was promised that I could see him.”
“You shall.” The Merseian officer replied in a gruff, yet friendly voice. “The guards have gone to fetch him for you. I just wanted to take the opportunity to talk to a fellow warrior first.” Dwyanfor grinned as he poured a thick liquid into two tankards, and then handed one of them to his guest. “Telloch. It’s a form of ale.” The Merseian grinned as he took a deep swallow. “Don’t worry—we’ve checked—it’s suitable for your species.”
Looking dubiously at the tankard, D’Argo took a cautious sip, feeling the warm liquid as it made its way down to his stomach. Finding the taste pleasant, the Luxan took a much deeper drought. Seeing his guest’s reaction, the Merseian smiled once again, “I thought you would enjoy it. From what I’ve read of your people, D’Argo, I’d say that our species are very similar. We’re both warriors! We take pride in battle—in overcoming impossible odds—in fighting and dying gloriously! We’re not like the Terrans—soft, pleasure seeking, indolent. The humans prefer endless negotiation to military campaigns, the bribe or the stab in the back by the hired assassin to the honest duel. Nor are we like these Peacekeepers—single minded, lacking in imagination. They’re machines—tools—not true warriors like ourselves.”
Nodding his head in agreement, D’Argo thought back to how he’d been treated by the Merseians—respectfully, the way a warrior would treat an honored opponent. The Merseian officer then continued, “Think of what our two peoples could accomplish together. Think of the battles we’d win—of the songs and sagas the poets would write of our feats.” Then, lifting his tankard, the Merseian laughed, “To our peoples! To glory!”
Dwyanfor and D’Argo then spent several minutes talking about the battles they had been in, the Luxan slowly, in spite of himself, warming to the gruff Merseian, then, as soon as they had finished their ales, the door opened yet again, revealing Scorpius, Aycharaych, two Merseian guards—and Jothee. “Jothee…” The proud Luxan warrior said weakly as he stood up to look upon his long missing son who looked back at him with a mixture of wariness and curiosity.
“Are you my father?” The adolescent Sebacean-Luxan half-breed asked as he stepped back a step.
“Yes.” D’Argo replied, wanting to do nothing more than take his son in his arms. “How have they been treating you?”
“Well.” The young man said flatly. “They were the ones who rescued me from the Zenitan pirates that had enslaved me.” Jothee finished, the accusatory tone in his voice not going unnoticed by his father.
“I’m sorry…” The Luxan warrior apologized, his heart filling with both regret at the loss of his wife and the long separation from his son, and anger at the Peacekeepers who had ruined their lives all because he had dared to love one of their own. “I looked for you…”
“That’s all for now.” Scorpius said, his voice cloying with false concern as he motioned for the guards to take the young man away. “Jothee was in poor condition when we found him. He still hasn’t regained his full strength.” Watching intently as the Luxan returned to his seat, Scorpius grinned, “Now…Ka’ D’Argo…are you ready to talk?”
“What is it you wish me to do?” D’Argo asked as he held his head in his hands, his tentacles drooping.
“This is our plan…” Scorpius smiled in triumph as he began outlining D’Argo’s role in the scheme that would net the half-Scarran and his Merseian allies John Crichton and the secrets to wormhole travel hidden in his head.
*************************
“Dinner was excellent. Thank you, Madame.” Lieutenant Braca managed a smile as he sipped from the Terran drink that Alana had brought with her. “What do you call this…drink?”
“It’s a sauterne—a type of dessert wine.” The Marquessa smiled back, hiding her amusement at her dinner companion’s reaction to her gown. She had deliberately made sure that the lighting would accentuate enough of the translucent qualities of the gown so that the male Peacekeeper could not help but notice the bronze skin and the small, but round and firm, breasts beneath. “I’m glad you enjoy it. It seems that in many ways, our races aren’t that much different from each other.”
“How so?” Braca asked, dubiously.
“Well…physically we’re not so different—that in and of itself is fascinating.” Alana said as she seductively sipped her wine, giving her companion a carefully calculated look. “I wonder just how far our similarities go.”
Squirming uncomfortably in his seat, Braca stammered, “Well…I’m not sure…the only human before now I’ve known is Crichton and…well…”
Seeing that she had her fish hooked, Alana decided that now was the time to play out her line a little more, otherwise, her prize might break free. “I quite understand.” Alana chuckled as Zhaan refilled their glasses, “So tell me…how long have you been a Peacekeeper?”
“I was born a Peacekeeper.” Braca said proudly, relieved that his host had changed the direction of their conversation. “I was first in my cadet class, and one of the first of my group to make Lieutenant.”
“And how long have you been a Lieutenant?” Alana asked, using just the right amount of voice inflection, and just the proper facial expressions, all carefully calculated to give the impression of great interest in the man she was entertaining.
“About fifteen cycles now.” Braca said, the note of pride increasing in his voice, “The last cycle or so as Crais’ and then Scorpius’ executive officer.”
“Fifteen cycles?” Alana exclaimed in amazement, “A man of your abilities? In the Empire, you’d have your own ship by now! My father was in command of his own ship, the Achilles, by the time he was in his mid thirties. And Uncle Rupert, he took command of the Kongo when he was in his thirties too—my father served under him as a junior ensign.” Shaking her head in disbelief, Alana, knowing that now she had to be very careful, chose her words cautiously, “Well…I guess differing services have differing ideas concerning things like that. After all, we humans only live to about 120, maybe 130 or so at most—you Sebaceans, from what we’ve gathered, have a life expectancy of between 150 and 200 plus years—I mean cycles. I guess spending a little more time in grade for you all isn’t quite the same as it is for us.”
Thinking back to the meteoric rise of that farmer’s son, the renegade Crais, to a Captaincy, while he languished as a mere Lieutenant, and then remembering how Crais had promoted Teag ahead of him, and recalling in his mind the rumors concerning the circumstances behind Teag’s rapid promotion, Braca held his anger in check as he bit out his words, choking back his bile as he spoke, “Promotion does move slower with us. We like to be sure that an individual is worthy before entrusting him with more authority.”
Seeing that her words had the desired effect, Alana smiled sweetly, “A good policy.” Then, raising her glass, the Marquessa continued, “On Terra, we have a custom when we wish to honor someone. It’s called a toast.” Then, smiling, she once again gave her dinner guest a carefully calculated meaningful look, “To Lieutenant Braca, may your talents be recognized and you soon be given the command you’re entitled to.”
*****************************
“You know what you’re supposed to do?” Flandry cocked a sardonic grin as he looked at how close John and Aeryn were standing to each other.
“Yeah.” John answered. “We wait until 0600, and then hit the commo station and broadcast Katralla and Tyno’s speech.”
“Right. You should catch the majority of the population as it’s getting ready for the workday. I’d prefer doing it during the evening…but by then security’ll probably be a lot tighter. While you’re doing that, Jena and I’ll be hitting a weapons depot on the other side of town. Once they give their speech, you all scarper outta there. It won’t take the bad guys long to come after you—understand?”
“We understand.” Aeryn affirmed. “After that, we’re to keep moving constantly, take whatever opportunities we have to give Katralla and Tyno a chance to rally support, but not to put them at risk.”
“That’s right, grasshopper.” Flandry smiled. “I see that I’ve taught you well. You remember all the little tricks your Uncle Dominic taught you?” Seeing Aeryn nod her head, her face reddening as she remembered certain other tricks that her former lover had taught her, the Terran agent laughed, “Good! Looks like you’re gonna get to use ‘em all before we’re done here.”
“Well…what are we doin’ standin’ around here, then? Crichton asked as he checked his slug thrower, hiding his unease as he saw the blush on Aeryn’s face. “It’s time to bake the donuts.”
Shaking her head as Flandry laughed while Jenavia stood mystified, Aeryn took her companion by the hand and then, motioning for Katralla and Tyno to join them, took off for their target. “Well, Jena…” Flandry leered as he patted his current partner and lover on the rump, “You ready to go raise some hell?”
“Lets.” The lovely disruptor leered back, returning Flandry’s gesture with a package check of her own as her hand wandered.
Shaking his head, the handsome Terran laughed as he lit two cigarettes, offering one to his companion, who, introduced to the vice by her lover the night before, took it. “Lady…you’re one of a kind.”
“I know.” The former Peacekeeper flashed a wicked grin as she drew from her cigarette and then exhaled a steady stream of smoke. “Now…don’t we have a weapons depot to blow up?”
*************************
“Two guards.” John said as he returned to the embankment behind which Aeryn, Katralla, and Tyno hid. “Both standing together at the door.”
“Good.” Aeryn smiled as she took out her needle gun. “I’ll take the one on the right—you get the one on the left.”
“Right, Sundance.” John grinned as he took out his own needle gun, and then, leaning over, gave his companion a quick kiss. “For luck.” The human smiled as the former Peacekeeper blushed a delicate red.
“Let’s go, Butch.” Aeryn flashed a small smile as the couple got up. Approaching stealthily, they easily drew to within firing range for the silent needlers. Holding up three fingers, Aeryn smiled as she saw her partner’s nod of understanding. Counting down, once she had folded down the last finger, both fired at the same time, the cyanide needles easily puncturing the clothing of the sentries. As the guards collapsed in a heap in front of the door, John rushed forward as Aeryn motioned for Katralla and Tyno to join them.
“Think we’ll have a problem with the techs inside?” John asked as he switched the selector on the needle gun to autofire.
“I hope not—for their sakes.” Aeryn replied in a grim tone as she imitated her partner’s gesture.
“Once they see it’s us, they’ll comply.” Katralla asserted, with the knowledge that comes from years of belief in her position.
“I hope you’re right, Katralla.” John sighed as he, finding the indentichip hanging around the neck of one of the guards yanked it off and handed it to Aeryn. “Well…ya’ll ready?”
Nodding her head crisply, Aeryn slid the chip in, smiling grimly as the door lock disengaged. Flinging the door open, Aeryn shouted into the room as she and John burst in, immediately assuming combat crouches as they surveyed the half dozen techs working, “Everyone on your knees—NOW!”
Looking up from their duties in shock, the technicians saw the ex-Peacekeeper and her human companion looking down on them, weapons poised to fire. As they moved quickly to comply, one of them spied the form of the new Empress with her husband. “Your Majesty!” He shouted, his face one of joy. “You live! We were told that you were killed along with your mother and father.”
“We live.” Katralla’s voice rang throughout the room. “Thanks to the help of our friends here and others like them. Now, I need your help to free our world from those who have taken it from us—will you help us?”
Hearing the cheers coming from the technicians, Katralla smiled warmly as John and Aeryn relaxed somewhat. Here, at least, they had found allies—the first, they hoped, of many more.
*********************
“If this is like the other Peacekeeper depots I’ve seen, most of it’s below ground.” Flandry said in a low voice as he took note of the sentries—one a member of the Royal guard, the other, a Merseian, his green skin, long thick tail, and closefitting black uniform clearing marking him out as alien.
“And how many depots have you been spying on?” His partner asked in a low voice with a mischievous grin as she pointed out a mobile patrol of Peacekeepers. “I time them at half an arn to make their rounds.”
“Sounds about right.” Flandry replied as he checked his chronometer. “Give ‘em ten microns to get far enough away…then about five for us to maneuver in position—that should do it.” Then after the ten minutes had passed, the Terran agent turned towards his companion, grinning, “Well…you ready, Tonto?”
“What the frell is a Tonto?” The deadly Sebacean grinned as she took her necklace off, keeping it in her hand.
“An old Terran legend.” Flandry grinned back. “I’ll tell you about it later. But now, it’s time to go to work.” With that, both killers slipped out of their position, moving like cats towards their prey. Then, five minutes later, as Flandry had anticipated, they had maneuvered into position to strike. Setting his blaster at the narrowest setting, Flandry fired at the Merseian, hitting him in the head while light flared out from his lover’s necklace, stunning her target. Then, quickly rushing forward, Jenavia knelt by her victim, and placing her wrist against his throat, activated the blade encased within it, killing the guard silently, only a gurgle marking his passing. “I like that.” The Terran grinned as he pointed at the necklace. “You know where I can get one of those?”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Jenavia smiled back as she yanked the identichip from her victim’s neck, and, sliding it into the lock, opened the door.
“Right.” Flandry growled, “Let’s see if we can find some explosives to make this place go boom.”
“Here we are.” Jenavia called out in a low voice, pointing towards a box, and then, sliding the guard’s identichip into the lock, smiled as it opened. “Enough to do the job, I’d say.”
“And then some.” Flandry grinned back as he snatched a quick kiss. “Ok, they’re your toys—you know how to set ‘em. I’ll stand watch ‘til you’re done.”
“Won’t take long.” Jenavia smiled as she kissed her lover once again, and then quickly set about the task of setting charges in strategic locations. “How much time should I give us?”
“Let’s see…the patrol’s due back in…ten microns now. That should do it. They’ll get back just in time to catch the fireworks.” Flandry cocked a half smile as he watched his lover work.
“You know, Flandry…” The alluring Sebacean grinned as she went about setting the charges, “That’s what I like about you—you’re always thinking of the needs of others.”
“That’s me—a regular charity service.” The Terran grinned as he glanced at his chronometer. “Time’s up, we gotta scoot.”
“All done.” Jenavia smiled as she set the last charge. “Let’s get the hezmana outta here.”
****************************
“We’re ready, Your Majesty.” The head technician said in a respectful voice as his people made the last of their adjustments. “We can break into all communications whenever you’re ready.”
Taking out the speech she and Tyno and drawn up, with the help of Flandry, the new Empress took a deep breath and then nodded her head. The tech then pressed a button and nodded his head. Head held high, the deposed ruler spoke to her subjects. “My people. Traitors led by a man once trusted by us, Ricol, the head of the Empress’s paladins, have savagely murdered my mother and father, and tried to kill me and my husband, the Regent. We stand before you as proof that these wicked men have failed. WE STILL LIVE! Now, aliens—the Merseians and their Peacekeeper lackeys, occupy our home—a world that has known peace for over 1900 cycles. I beg all of you, my people, to resist. If you can—take arms. If you cannot take arms, then resist in other ways. Fight—not in my name, but rather in the name of my mother who was savagely slain by a coward’s blow! Help is on its way, but we must fight alone until then. I stand with you, my people. Together we will win!” The power then went dead throughout the station.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” The head technician said in a low voice, “They must have cut the power.”
“Time to go, Katralla.” John said, his voice tinged with respect for the new Empress. “You’re not going to do your people any good if you’re captured.”
“Please go, Your Majesty.” The technician urged. “Don’t worry about us. We can say that your people forced us to cooperate. Hurry!” Reluctantly allowing John and Aeryn to lead them away, Katralla and Tyno went back towards the city to lead their people’s resistance as the technicians made ready for the Peacekeepers and Merseians that would soon arrive seeking answers.
**********************
“Three…two…one…” Flandry then whooped as they felt the earth move and then saw the fire shooting out the door of the weapons depot, catching in its blast the patrol that had just arrived to find the two bodies that the Terran had carefully arranged, their arms folded serenely on their chests. “Well…first blow for the resistance.” Flandry said, his voice now taking on a grimmer tone as he imagined what would soon begin—offers for rewards, smear tactics, roundups and executions of hostages. “That should get people’s attention. Now, we go into the city and see whether we can organize a real resistance.”
**************************
“Just as I thought.” Aycharaych nodded his head as he read the report of the destruction of the weapons depot and the interruption in the morning communications broadcasts by Katralla and Tyno.
“The weapons depot was just a minor inconvenience though. Surely Flandry knew that.” The half-breed Scorpius said as his aide replaced the cooling rod in his skull.
“Oh yes.” Aycharaych smiled. “The weapons depot was just his way of sending a message to us. The real damage came from Katralla’s speech.”
“I know.” The half-Scarran sighed dramatically. “Her speaking first and then using her mother’s name cut seriously into our smear campaign.” Scorpius said as the cooling rod spun back into his head, smoke coming from the friction created by its spinning.
“That it did.” The Cherionite nodded his head in agreement. “Katralla invoking the memory of her mother as a symbol for resistance was a stroke of genius—that had to have come from Flandry.”
“Yes…that was a good move.” Scorpius grinned, gaining even more respect for the Terran spy. “By doing that, he gave the people a martyr to rally behind—even though the daughter might be tainted, the mother’s still very much respected by her people—a very astute strategy.” Taking two cups of raslak, the leather clad Peacekeeper changed the subject, “So…when do we put our second scheme into play? D’Argo’s ready to go now…if we wait too long, we run the risk of him changing his mind or trying something foolish.”
“Agreed.” Aycharaych replied as he accepted the raslak from his partner. “We’ll set events in motion tonight—however, it’ll take a bit of time for our plan to bear fruit. D’Argo first has to contact the resistance and convince them of his sincerity, and then lure Crichton into the trap. We’ll give D’Argo a couple of your weekens …then we’ll help him along by publicly announcing the trials of our…guests…for espionage and sabotage—that should do the trick. If we’re lucky…” The Cherionite’s eyes flashed a predatory gleam as he sipped his raslak, “We’ll not only catch Crichton in our net, but we also might also grab a few more prizes.
********************
“You do understand, Ka’ D’Argo…” Scorpius flashed a smug grin as he spoke to the Luxan warrior whose cooperation he and his Cherionite ally had coerced, “That should you fail to carry out our instructions, not only will you never see your son again, but your friends Zhaan and Rygel will be executed as well—so also will the Marquessa—which would be a real shame, as she is a most delightful woman.”
“I know what I am supposed to do.” D’Argo growled, barely controlling his anger. “But if I do this, you had better keep your word and release my son—and leave my friends alone—or else, if it is the last thing I do, I swear on my wife’s grave that I will cut out your heart and feed it and the rest of your carcass to a razor-toothed vorlag!”
“Do as we ask, Ka’ D’Argo…” The gentle musical voice of the Merseian spymaster, Aycharaych slowly worked their magic on the angry Luxan, calming him somewhat, “And I promise that you and your son will be safe. After everything is resolved, the two of you will be taken wherever you wish to go—your homeworld, or if that cannot be arranged, then anywhere else within either the Uncharted Territories or the Roidhunate.”
“I will do as you say.” His tentacles drooping, the proud Luxan, feeling keenly his loss of honor, promised in a melancholy tone.
“Very good.” The Cherionite smiled as his mental scan confirmed D’Argo’s words. “The plan is simple. You will make your escape at the third arn. You know the route—ignore the two dead bodies by your door, they’re part of the plan. Enter in this code sequence…it’s easy to remember—they’re the first four prime numbers, and the time you anticipate being in position with Crichton into any databank. Then all you have to do is bring him to us.”
“I understand.” D’Argo replied softly.
“Don’t forget…” Scorpius admonished, “There will be a substantial bounty placed on you—to make your ‘escape’ appear genuine. And should you be captured or killed…”
“Also…” Aycharaych added, “I would recommend that you avoid both Flandry and the disruptor, Jenavia Chatto. Flandry will penetrate the ruse, and the other one might—and you have too much to lose to risk that.”
“I told you I would keep my end of the bargain.” The Luxan warrior, tired of being humiliated, snapped, his hyper rage growing.
“We trust you.” Aycharaych, unperturbed, smiled back. “Now, my friend…rest…you have a busy day tomorrow.”
************************
“Not bad!” Flandry grinned as he surveyed the destruction caused by his and Jenavia’s latest raid—this time on a transport hub. Then, lighting a couple of cigarettes, he offered one to his lover before drawing from his own, “A week and these people are actually beginning to look like a genuine resistance movement.”
“True.” Jenavia smiled as she took the cigarette and after drawing deep, exhaled a steady stream of smoke. “I still don’t give them more than a few weekens before they’re dead—but they did well with the training that we were able to give them in the time we had.”
“You’re right, Jena.” Flandry then waved as a couple of the partisans walked past them, their faces agleam as they cheered their victory. “They’re raw. Oh, we’ve gotten a few defectors from the military, and we’ll probably get more in the near future once the Merseians really start throwing their weight around, but if help doesn’t come soon—most of these people’ll be dead.”
“When do you expect your fleet to get here?” The former disruptor asked as she took another draw from her cigarette.
“Soon—I hope.” Flandry grimaced as he also took a draw from his cigarette.
“Alright…so what’s our next move?”
“Well…these people look as ready to solo as they’ll ever be…so I think it’s time we stirred up trouble elsewhere. I was thinking about the spaceport…”
“What?!” Jenavia exclaimed, choking on the tobacco smoke that she was at that moment exhaling. “Have you gone completely fahrbot?”
“Maybe.” Flandry admitted with a grin. “Seriously though…we need to do something to disrupt the Merseians landing heavy weapons—especially planetary defense weaponry, and I figure blowing up some warehouses and maybe a command and control center might just do the trick.”
“Alright you schemer…” Jenavia teased as she put out her cigarette, “Just how are we going to accomplish this?”
“Ok Tonto, here’s what we’re gonna do…” Flandry grinned as he began outlining his plan.
************************
“We’ve downloaded the information from both Hooligan’s and Moya’s computers, Admiral.”
“Very good, Ponsonby. We have the leaders of the legitimate government’s request for assistance on record?” Fleet Admiral Lady Allison Mackenzie-Faulkes, Admiral Commanding, Cynosure Sector Fleet, standing with her hands clasped behind her back on the bridge of her flagship, Victory, asked for the benefit of the ship’s log.
“Yes, Ma’am.” Her aide replied. “Captain Flandry’s addendum records that the reigning Empress at the time, Novia, and her husband were both assassinated in a coup led by the head of her personal guards. He verifies that Katralla and Tyno are the legitimate government and that the Marquessa Centaurus is being held against her will in their royal palace by the Merseians and Peacekeepers.”
“Very good.” Mackenzie-Faulkes smiled grimly as she continued her thoughts to herself, ‘Everything’s going according to plan, then. We have a call for assistance from a friendly government and a threat to the safety of a member of the peerage. Problem is…neither reason will be worth squat if this operation goes bad. Oh well…as the old saying goes…who dares—wins!’ Head held high, the hero of the Ramnu Incursion raised her voice so that it carried throughout the bridge of the Victory. “Captain Ponsonby! Instruct all Division Commanders to commence Operation Hurricane immediately.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” The Captain replied in a clipped English accent and then spoke the words that would launch the Terran armada into the Uncharted Territories and the heart of the Peacekeeper domains.
*************************
Eighteen months after the disappearance of Farscape One, Donald Kinney, known by almost everyone as DK, finally married John’s sister, Melissa, whom he had been seeing off and on ever since high school. A year later, they had a son, whom they named John in honor of the presumed dead astronaut who was friend and family to both of them. Their child grew up a healthy and happy young man and met, while in college, a lovely woman whom he eventually asked to marry. They also had children who in turn had children of their own. Now, Brevet Rear Admiral Melissa Lennox, heiress to the lands and titles of the Count of New Scotland, and the direct descendent of DK and John’s sister, sat in the command chair of her Nova class battleship, Van Rijn, smiling in anticipation as the orders to move out were relayed to her by her communications officer. Known as a fearsome adversary in battle, she also enjoyed a reputation for unparalleled debauchery and hedonism while off duty. But it was her battlefield prowess that made the chestnut haired, blue-eyed Lennox the natural choice to command the spearhead of the division that would strike deep into Peacekeeper territory—with it’s ultimate objective Sebacea and the Peacekeeper High Command.
Fondling the silver inlaid swagger stick given to her by a former lover as a present on her making Captain, the beautiful woman who was the several times removed great grandniece of John Crichton flashed a predatory smile as she addressed all the ships of her division, her vivid blue eyes reminiscent of those of another member of the Crichton family. “Ladies and Gentlemen… we’ve just received our orders to invade Peacekeeper space and I intend to make Sebacean the most commonly spoken language in Hell. All ships prepare to engage hyperdrives on my mark…Mark!”
As the Van Rijn and the other vessels of the 1st Division lurched into hyperspace, Melissa Lennox sat back in her command chair and licking her lips, smiled as she overheard the conversation her helm officer was having with the weapons officer sitting next to him, “These Peacekeepers better batten down their hatches, ‘cause Hurricane Melissa’s on her way.”
********************
“Thank you for joining me on my walk, Braca.” Alana smiled coyly as she deliberately grazed the arm of the Peacekeeper lieutenant who had been ordered to see to her needs, and who had, within the last week, begun to share her bed as well.
“You’re welcome…Alana.” The Peacekeeper smiled as the electricity from his brief contact with the alluring Terran aristocrat traveled from his arm throughout his body.
Watching as the Merseians changed guard outside the palace, Alana glimpsed from the corner of her eye her companion’s grimace. “Damned gatortails.” Alana spat out. “They’re worse than cockroaches—once they take over a place…they’re next to impossible to get rid of.”
“But they haven’t conquered us!” Braca protested feebly, not really believing his own words, “We’re their allies—not their subjects.”
“Braca, love…” Alana smiled as she kissed her newly acquired lover on the cheek, “The Merseians don’t have allies. They have enemies—who are anyone who stand in their way, they have clients who are about to become subjects—like your people, and they have subjects. With the Empire, subject races can become citizens. Say you were in the Empire, love…” The clever Marquessa grinned as she saw that she had her lover’s attention—the days and nights spent by her feeding the Peacekeeper officer subtle suggestions, gentle temptations, and veiled criticisms were now beginning to bear rich fruit. “You could serve in the Navy, gain citizenship—hell…you could become a Fleet Admiral in a few years! Not with the Merseians. They make it quite clear that they’re on the top and that there’s no way you’ll ever climb up with them. If you’re a good boy and do what you’re told, they’ll pat you on the head and give you a biscuit—but don’t expect them to invite you to their house—except as a curiosity—much less give you a ship to command.”
Seeing that her words had their desired effect, Alana flashed a small triumphant grin that she covered up with a yawn. “I’m growing tired now, lover…walk me to my room, and I’ll see you tonight?”
Nodding his head, Braca took his lover’s arm and walked her back to her room before retiring to his own to think about what he had just heard.
********************
“So many people…” Katralla sobbed in the arms of her husband as John turned off the video screen televising the latest executions—reprisals for the destruction of a Merseian/Peacekeeper communications hub by partisans earlier that day.
“We must be as strong as they were, my love.” Tyno consoled his wife with gentle caresses and words as John and Aeryn uneasily looked on, “Did you see them as they died? Their heads held high, shouting defiance…shouting our names…shouting your mother’s name—we have to remain strong for them, Katralla. They died for us. And we have to be strong for those here…” Tyno then motioned towards three partisans, cleaning pulse rifles that they had taken from the bodies of a Peacekeeper patrol that they had ambushed earlier in the day. “If they see that we’ve given up—then all truly is lost.”
“I know…my love.” The Empress, drying her eyes, held her head high and smiled at the freedom fighters, who, seeing her smile, redoubled their efforts. “My people’s sacrifice will not be in vain.” At that moment, a member of the resistance cell formed by Crichton and Aeryn entered the room, and, after bowing to the Empress and Regent, whispered into John’s ear. The human, a broad smile on his face, then whispered into the ear of his Sebacean companion who, smiling as well, nodded her head enthusiastically at the messenger who then quickly left the room only to return a few minutes later accompanied by two partisans guarding a giant Luxan.
As soon as John saw the Luxan, he let out a whoop of joy as he ran up to the warrior, embracing the larger D’Argo in a bear hug. “D’Argo! My Man! Glad ta see ya, Big Guy!”
Trying to hide his unease, the Luxan warrior returned his friend’s hug, being careful not to hurt the frailer human. “It’s good to see you again too, John. You also, Aeryn.” D’Argo added, smiling a nervous smile.
“How did you get away, Big Guy? How’s Alana and Zhaan and Sparky doin’?” John steamrollered as he guided his old friend to a chair, offering him a large glass of water.
“They are fine for now, John…but they won’t be for much longer unless we act quickly…” D’Argo said with a grimace as he began to tell the lie that Scorpius and Aycharaych had provided for him. As he told an increasingly upset and angry John about how the Merseians and Peacekeepers were planning to execute Alana and the others, Aeryn, as she looked at him, couldn’t help but notice that something just didn’t seem right. The ex-Peacekeeper couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but there was something about the way her Luxan shipmate carried himself…something in the tone and inflection of his voice…that set off warning klaxons in her head.
“Ok, D’Argo…” John grimaced as he started pacing, “We’re gonna have to bust ‘em out—any ideas on how to get in?”
“The same way I got out.” D’Argo said in an even tone. “It’s a part of the sewer system used to transport waste out of the palace. I stumbled on it after I escaped my cell. It was unguarded and no one followed me so we should be able to get in without being detected.”
“Great!” John grinned. “We’ll get Aeryn and a couple of our freedom fighters, pop in, bust Alana and the others out, and get home by breakfast.”
Shaking his head, the Luxan warrior said quickly, “It would work best if it were just the two of us, John.”
“Why?” John asked, a confused look on his face, “The more of us, the better if we get in a hole.”
“John’s right.” Aeryn interjected, not liking where this discussion was going. “There’s no way the two of you alone can get into that palace, break everyone out, and then escape. I’m going with you.”
“No, Aeryn.” D’Argo shook his head forcefully, “The passageway is too narrow. A large group would be too vulnerable, and assuming that a large group of us could make it through undetected…there are the guards in the palace—there’s just too many of them—there’s no way a large group could get in and out.”
“He’s got a point, Sunshine.” Crichton added. “A lot of people going in…making a lot of noise…and then having to get out. Two people could get in and out where four people might just get killed.” Then, putting a hand on D’Argo’s shoulder, the former astronaut, feeling better now that his good friend was back, said in a confident voice, smiling as he put his hand on his comrade’s shoulder, “It’s ok, Big Guy. We’ll get ‘em out safe and sound.”
D’Argo, feeling his friend’s strong hand on his shoulder, kept his silence, his guilt and shame not permitting him to respond. “John?” Aeryn’s soft voice then cut through the momentary silence, “Can we talk for a few microts—alone?”
“Sure Aeryn.” John replied, a quizzical look on his face. Then, calling the partisan who had brought D’Argo to him, John smiled, “Shori’ll take you to your room, Big Guy. You might wanna catch some Z’s…get some sleep…we’re gonna have a busy night tonight.”
“Thanks John, I’ll do that.” The Luxan warrior, after he had been escorted to his room, and after making sure that he was alone and unobserved, then went to the data console, a tear rolling down his cheek as he punched in the numbers that would lead to the capture and torture of the human that had become his friend.
********************
“John…I have a bad feeling about this…” Aeryn said in a grim voice as she regarded the determined face of the man that she had thought lost forever to her. Even though, as she saw the steel that lay in those striking blue eyes of his, she knew that she had already lost this argument, she still hoped to talk him out of his plan. “I can’t tell you why—I just do. Let me or one of the others go this time…please?”
The expression on his face softening as he heard the hard-bitten ex-Peacekeeper he had known for two cycles utter that simple word of pleading, knowing that not so long ago, she would never have even considering saying it, the time-displaced astronaut smiled warmly, “Aeryn… D’Argo’s our friend. You know we can trust him.” Then, as he saw the concern and worry in those eyes, he took her hands in his and bending over, touched his forehead to hers as he sighed, “Sunshine…we’re lucky D’Argo got out of that palace. He says that he knows a way that the two of us together can sneak in and get Alana, Zhaan, and Rygel out—I think it’s worth the risk.”
“So, let’s wait for Dominic and Jenavia to get back. Jenavia knows the palace better than anyone else—she should be the one to go with D’Argo.” Aeryn pleaded as she squeezed her partner’s hands.
“We can’t wait darlin’.” John smiled wanly as he gently brushed aside a stray lock of hair from the face of the woman who had come to mean so much to him. “D’Argo said that they’re getting ready to execute ‘em all.” The compassionate human’s shoulders then slumped as he finished, “Hell, Aeryn…too many people have already died—and this war’s not over yet—not by a long shot. If we can get Alana and the others outta there—then Scorpius and Aycharaych won’t be able to use them to get to us anymore—we have to take the chance.”
“Alright then, I’ll go instead of you.” Aeryn said challengingly as she stood up.
“Uh…Uh.” John shook his head as he stood up and, approaching Aeryn enfolded her in his arms; “I need you here, Sunshine. You’re the best person here—other than Dominic and Jenavia—at this sorta thing.” Fighting down the pain in his heart, John forced himself to go on, his lips trembling, “Because of your time with…Flandry…you’re the best one of us at leading a resistance cell, but there’s something else I want you to do for me, Aeryn. I need someone I trust more than life itself here to keep an eye on Katralla and Tyno…to help watch after my daughter if something happens to me—and that someone is you, darlin’. Please, Aeryn do this for me.”
As she heard John’s words and the emotion behind them, Aeryn, smiling a sad smile, nodded her head before burying it in her companion’s chest, allowing her tears to flow as the man she had once thought lost to her forever gently stroked her back. Accepting his warmth and comfort, feeling in his gentle, soothing words and soft gestures the unconditional love and caring he felt for her, Aeryn finally accepted in her heart what she had been fighting for so long. She was able, at long last, to admit to herself that she loved John Crichton.
*********************
“Ready, Lieutenant?” Flandry smirked as he put on the Peacekeeper helmet, completing his transformation from resistance leader to Peacekeeper trooper.
“Ready, grot!” The Terran agent’s partner and lover, the former Peacekeeper disruptor Jenavia Chatto smiled back as she adjusted the Lieutenant’s uniform that she had just recently appropriated from its owner, now lying in a ditch, no longer in need of it.
“Right, then.” Closing the faceplate to better hide his features, the Terran agent then finished, “Let’s get to work.”
***********************
“Well…” John grinned at the raven-haired Sebacean woman standing before him as D’Argo pulled open the access cover to the sewer system. “I guess it’s time to go…tell Linna to set some extra plates for breakfast will ya, Sunshine?”
Nodding her head, Aeryn managed a weak smile, “You sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
Smiling warmly, the ruggedly handsome human cupped the chin of the woman who had come to mean so much to him, “We’ve already been over this, Aeryn. ‘Sides…I’ve got D’Argo watching my back—what can go wrong?”
Fighting down her fears, Aeryn smiled back, “Nothing, John. I just don’t like you going out without me to cover you.”
“It’s ok, Aeryn…I’m a big boy.” Crichton grinned back as he stroked his Sebacean companion’s arms.
“I know, John…you’ve done well…”
“For a mentally deficient primitive?” The human laughed good-naturedly as his companion turned beet red with embarrassment.
Nodding her head, Aeryn buried her head in his chest as she hugged Crichton tightly to her while he continued to gently caress her.
“John?” D’Argo’s low voice carried through the still night air, causing the heads of both John and Aeryn to jerk up, “It’s time to go.”
Kissing his companion’s forehead, Crichton smiled warmly as he broke their embrace, “I’ll see you later, Sunshine—hold down the fort while I’m gone.”
“I will John.” The former Peacekeeper smiled back as she gave her human companion’s hands one last squeeze. But, as she saw John prepare to descend into the sewer, her fears about the future mixed in with her recent epiphany regarding her feelings towards John, forcing the tormented Sebacean woman to say the words that not so long ago she couldn’t say, “John! I love you!”
On hearing those words, the time-displaced astronaut turned around, and seeing the fair face of his companion, openly showing her fear, hope, and finally peace as if dawned on her that she had finally come to grips with her feelings, smiled warmly as a lump formed in his throat while a tear rolled down his cheek. Turning back to her, he took the former Peacekeeper into his arms and tenderly kissed her, his kiss deepening as she hungrily responded to it. The newly discovered lovers spent several minutes like this, melted into each others arms, unwilling to break their kiss until once again, they were brought back to reality by the sound of D’Argo uncomfortably clearing his throat. Breaking from their kiss, John brushed away a tear rolling down the cheek of the woman who had just professed her love for him. “I love you too, sweetheart.” Then, after one final kiss, the human reluctantly turned away, calling out as he disappeared into the sewer, “I’ll be back soon, love!”
Aeryn stood there watching until she heard John replace the manhole cover, and then, tears rolling down her cheeks, walked away. Katralla and Tyno were planning on making a quick appearance and speech to garner support, and there were Peacekeeper patrols to ambush. John would be back soon, the former Peacekeeper, tried to convince herself as she returned to her cell’s headquarters. Even though she was feeling lighter now that she had finally confessed her love to John, that nagging worry that she had first felt about D’Argo wouldn’t go away—if anything, it was growing more intense with the passing of every microt that John was gone.
************************
“Lieutenant Diena Tylo—Security Directorate.” Jenavia spoke crisply to the guard at the gate as she handed him her identichip. “Here to check on installation security.”
As the guard scanned the chip, his partner maintained a wary eye on the Peacekeeper Lieutenant and her accompanying guard. The hit and run tactics and sniping of the partisans had made the Peacekeeper guards even more wary than usual. “All’s in order—pass.” Both guards saluted as Jenavia and Flandry passed safely into the compound.
As they made their way to the depots, Flandry and Jenavia both took careful notice of the cargo being offloaded from the landed transports—mostly Merseian—missile batteries, particle beam and plasma weapons for planetary defense installations, electronics warfare gear, the entire panoply of Technic military hardware—all far more advanced and lethal than their Peacekeeper equivalents. They also saw increasing numbers of Merseian troops—their green skins, large thick tails, and tight fitting black uniforms with silver trim immediately setting them apart from the Peacekeeper troops currently manning security at the spaceport. “This is bad.” Flandry growled in a low voice, “The Merseians are getting ready to dig in. At least their heavy warships haven’t arrived yet, so there’s still time—but not a whole helluva lot.”
“How much time do we have?” Jenavia asked as she tracked where they were transported the different equipment.
Sighing, Flandry thought for a few seconds, “A week at most. By that time Mackenzie-Faulkes should be here…unless she’s ran into problems.” Then, feeling the weight of the satchel he was carrying, the Terran agent looked about, “Maintenance shed at 270 degrees—that’ll be a good target.”
Nodding her head, Jenavia smiled, “They’re storing missiles in that bunker at 30 degrees—that’ll work well too.
“I like how you think.” Flandry grinned approvingly, “Right…I’ll set the charges in the bunker while you rig the maintenance shed to blow. Ready?”
“Let’s do it.” Jenavia grinned as she patted the satchel loaded with explosives that she was carrying.
Keeping to the shadows, the Terran spy crept slowly up on the bunker, stopping far enough away so that he could both time the rounds of the mobile guard and find a spot suitable for ambush. Spying the perfect location—a dark corner with a large blind spot and no electronic surveillance, Flandry took out his knife and calmly waited for the guard to come around once more.
As Flandry was doing that, Jenavia, maintaining her disguise as Diena Tylo, successfully bluffed her way through two patrols, and, entering the maintenance building, smiled as she saw the gravitic sleds, heavy equipment, and other gear necessary to keep the port operating efficiently. After properly presenting her credentials to the duty officer, who promptly saluted as he saw the Security Directorate tag on her identichip, the former Peacekeeper disruptor made her way through the facility, setting charges in strategic locations where she could not be observed by either curious eyes or electronic equipment.
After wiping his blade on the clothing of the guard he had just slain, Flandry, after taking the guard’s identichip, continued his round until he reached what he had hoped would be there—an emergency exit. Knowing that opening the door would immediately set off alarms, Flandry set the charges close—only allowing himself enough time to throw the satchel in and then run to what he hoped would be a safe distance before they went off. As he opened the door and flung the satchel in, alarms blared and lights came on as he quickly set off in a mad, zigzag dash away from the bunker until he was flung to the ground as the earth moved and thunder and lightning exploded from the bunker—secondary explosions scattering debris all around the area. Getting back up on his feet, Flandry didn’t bother to look back as he made his way back to the rendezvous point where he was supposed to meet Jenavia who, having completed her mission earlier, was already there waiting for him.
Calling out to her lover from the cover of a gully, Jenavia flashed a grin as he joined her. “Any microt now…” She whispered as at that moment, the maintenance shed also exploded.
Seeing the confusion as emergency vehicles and personnel dashed to and fro, Flandry leered as he snatched a quick kiss. “Now’s a good time for us to scoot, love. They’re gonna be busy fighting fires and checking for any more surprises—we should be able to slip out.” Then, helping his deadly partner out of the gully, the twosome calmly proceeded to walk hand in hand out of the inferno that they had just created.
***********************
As they silently made their way through the dank, dark sewer, John’s heart literally sang—she loved him! And what was more important—she told him that she did! What he had wanted…had longed for…had hoped for…had at last happened! She loved him! As the former astronaut, now Terran officer and his Luxan comrade had finally reached the access portal to the palace, John smiled because he knew that no matter the odds, he and his best friend would succeed. They were going to rescue their friends, get them safely out of the palace, and he was going to be back with the woman that he loved.
John waited quietly as D’Argo opened the portal, going first to make sure the coast was clear. Seeing his old friend’s hand motioning him up, John pulled himself up out of the passageway into the darkened room. As he looked about for his Luxan companion, Crichton was startled at first by the room suddenly being flooded with light, and then was even more startled as he saw the being who was his best friend standing between Scorpius and a tall fine boned and lean being with skin of deep gold and a shark fin crest made from dark-blue feathers on the crown of his head. “Greetings, Commander Crichton…please allow me to introduce myself—I’m Aycharaych.” As John looked at his friend, D’Argo, seeing the look of hurt and disbelief in his companion’s face turned away in shame as the tranquilizer dart from the needle gun fired by a Merseian guard penetrated the human’s skin, rendering him mercifully unconscious, his last thought before drifting into sleep that of Aeryn and her scented hair.
***********************
Almost as soon as the dart had penetrated John’s skin, Aeryn felt a tingling at the base of her spine causing her to stand up. Seeing the look of dread that overtook the features of the raven-haired woman, Katralla rushed to her side. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s John.” Aeryn said simply. “Something’s happened to him.” Then, moving quickly, Aeryn grabbed her coat and pulse rifle and headed towards the door.
“Where are you going, Aeryn?” The Empress asked, a note of command mixing in with her concern.
“To John.” Aeryn replied, the look on her face showing that she would allow no one to stand in her way.
“And do what? Get yourself captured too—assuming you’re right and something has happened to him?” The petite Katralla snapped, “What good would you do John then?” Her voice gentling, The Empress continued placatingly, “Listen Aeryn, if you go in without thinking, you’re not going to help John—all you’re going to do is get yourself captured or killed. Let’s wait and do this right. Captain Flandry and Jenavia are due back in a few arns. Let’s see what ideas they might have before rushing in.” Seeing that her words were beginning to have an effect, Katralla pressed on, “Think, Aeryn. If our positions were reversed, and it was me preparing to rush after Tyno…what would you say to me?”
Remembering both her training and the lessons that Flandry had taught her, Aeryn reluctantly lowered her pulse rifle. “I would tell you to wait until we have more information and then plan things out properly.” Feeling Katralla’s hand on hers, Aeryn sighed, “I’ll wait—for now.”
*************************
As expected, Rear Admiral Lennox’s spearhead squadron was the first to encounter Peacekeeper forces. “Ma’am.” The tactical officer spoke crisply as he indicated the display. “Enemy forces—non-Technic—all bearing descriptions similar to those provided by Lieutenant Sun during her debriefing are in orbit around this system. We count one command carrier class vessel and ten support ships of various classes.
“Very good, Rodriguez.” The chestnut haired descendent of Melissa Crichton and DK smiled as she fondled her swagger stick, “Open a channel to the command carrier—let’s be nice and give them a chance to surrender before we slaughter them.”
A channel was immediately opened, the Terran admiral’s lips slowly turning up in a lascivious grin as she saw the dark haired Peacekeeper Captain in the viewscreen. “Captain? This is Rear Admiral Melissa Lennox of His Majesty’s Imperial Terran Navy. Your fleet is outnumbered and outgunned. Why don’t you surrender now and avoid unnecessary bloodshed.”
Captain Malor Burol looked at the chestnut haired young female wearing a blue and white uniform with utter disbelief. ‘To think that a Peacekeeper would surrender to anyone! The arrogance of that female! Time to instruct her in the proper respect for her betters!’ The captain snarled as he addressed the attractive figure on his screen, “Frell you!”
“Too bad…” The Terran admiral shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly and smiled. “Well, Captain…if you survive this battle, I’d be delighted if you’d join me for dinner.”
Totally nonplussed at the arrogance of his opponent, Burol snapped at his executive officer, “Launch all marauders and prowlers and close to weapons range—flank speed!” Then, flashing a leer of his own, he addressed his new enemy; “I think you shall be joining me for dinner…”
Laughing, Lennox ordered the channel cut, and then, turning towards her tactical officer, sneered, “Rodriguez…kill them. But try to save that delicious captain—if you can.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” The tactical order grinned as he gave the orders to the fleet to fire. The Peacekeeper marauders and prowlers, sure of their superiority and of the coming victory, flew ahead of the main fleet confidently, each vying for the honor of the first kill. But, long before they could even draw close to their extreme weapons range, they were met by death in the form of energy beams and missiles pouring out of the Terran armada.
“Keep our range.” Lennox ordered as Peacekeeper vessels winked out of the tactical display at a constant rate—each disappearance meaning the death of a marauder…a prowler…an escort ship. “I want at least at least a hundred thousand klicks between us and them at all times, and begin concentrating fire on the command carrier—we’ve just about stripped away all her escort.”
Burol looked in disbelief as the alien vessels continued to pour their horrendous fire on his fleet, staying well out of range of his ships’ frag cannons. His marauders and prowlers were almost all either dead or drifting in space; his escort vessels now being dispatched by these aliens with just as much ease. And now, the Terrans were beginning to concentrate their fire on his ship. “Full power to the defense screens and disengage us.” The Peacekeeper Captain, having never faced defeat, shouted out to his shocked crew as Terran missiles and beams struck the shield—each volley further weakening it.
“Ma’am?” Rodriguez called out, triumph in his voice, “The enemy is disengaging.”
“Pursue and knock out that defense screen—I want that ship taken!” Lennox ordered as she perched on the edge of her seat.
“Ma’am?” Rodriquez said tentatively, knowing the volatile temper of his admiral, “I believe I have a way of breaking through their defense shield quicker.” Seeing that he had caught his temperamental commander’s attention, the tactical officer continued, “Because these people do not seem to know how to fight in hyperspace, their defense shield is probably not able to stop hyperspace driven missiles.”
“I see what you’re getting at Lieutenant Commander.” Lennox smiled at the Lieutenant, her devilish grin turning into a chuckle as it slowly dawned upon her officer that he had just been promoted. “Fire one missile—target engines—and see if that gets our Captain’s attention.”
The command carrier shuddered under the impact of the Terran missile that had suddenly materialized, damaging her engines. “What the frell?” The by now hapless Burol shouted in disbelief at his executive officer.
“The enemy seems to be able to penetrate our shields, Captain.” The junior officer responded, his face now ashen with shock. “Our engines are damaged, Sir. Life support’s down, we’re moving at reduced speed and our defense shield has been seriously weakened.
“Captain?” The viewscreen suddenly filled with the image of the victorious Terran woman, her hands holding a silver inlaid swagger stick. “We’ve just thrown your defense shield for a loop and did a number on your engines with one missile. Now…why don’t we put an end to this? I can promise you an utterly fantastic dinner if you surrender—otherwise…well…I’m in kind of a hurry here, so if you don’t give up, I’m gonna order my tactical officer to fire and blow you and your ship to Hell—your choice.”
As the proud Peacekeeper captain read the damage and casualty reports and as he saw the Terran boarding pods closing in on his damaged escort vessels, his shoulders drooped, “Very well. We surrender.” Then, addressing his fleet, Captain Malor Burol made history, as he became the first Peacekeeper fleet commander to order a general surrender.
**********************************
“Scorpius and Aycharaych have captured Crichton.” Braca announced with a subdued grin as he entered his lover’s quarters. Not so long ago, he would have been ecstatic about the news of the human’s capture, but now, Alana’s astute observations, combined with his own doubts and suspicions regarding the Peacekeeper’s new Merseian allies had forced him to rethink many of his views. He had even begun to conspire with others who had shared his views. As he entered the Terran aristocrat’s chambers, he couldn’t help but wonder whether this development would lead his people to glory…or ruin.
“I see…” Alana replied in a soft voice, smoothly hiding her worry. “Where is he being held?
“In the Palace cells.” Braca replied, carefully observing his lover’s face for any expression of concern for the human, relaxing, as he found none visible. “It happened about twenty microns ago. He’s still unconscious from the tranquilizer he was shot with. Scorpius and Aycharaych are going to wait until he regains consciousness—then they’re going to use that hypnoprobe the Merseians have.” Upon mentioning the hypnoprobe, Braca turned white as his face revealed his disgust at what he, a hardened Peacekeeper, considered an especially cruel and vicious form of interrogation.
“How was he captured?”
“The Luxan betrayed him. Aycharaych and Scorpius used his son to force him to betray Crichton.”
“I understand.” Alana said as she poured a glass of Betelgeusan sorgan, handing it to her lover. “This isn’t a good development for either one of our peoples.”
“Oh?” Braca raised his eyebrows suspiciously as he sipped the warmth of the alien drink. “What is this?” The Peacekeeper officer asked as he took another sip of the drug.
“It’s sorgan—from Betelgeuse.” Alana smiled as he downed the rest of the mind-controlling drug. It’s a very special drink, love.” The captivating oriental woman said as she wrapped her arms around her lover’s neck. “Now—you remember we talked about this a couple of nights ago—you told me that you were worried about what would happen if the Merseians were ever to get access to Crichton’s knowledge of wormhole technology. Remember, you asked me what need would they have for your people as allies? Because they would be able to strike wherever they wanted…whenever they wanted, they wouldn’t need you to occupy our flank any longer. You told me that you thought that they would quickly crush you and the others in the Uncharted Territories—and then turn on the Empire and the Ythrians.
“You’re right, Alana.” Braca sighed contentedly as the alluring oriental woman nuzzled against him and as the alien drug that made his mind susceptible to suggestion took hold.
“How do the other Peacekeeper officers and commanders feel about the Merseians?” Alana asked, even though she already knew the answer from her conversations with other Peacekeeper officers and with her guards with whom she had taken great pains to establish cordial relations.
“Some…those who have had a great deal of contact with the Merseians, feel as I do…they don’t trust them—they’ve been getting increasingly more arrogant as their numbers grow. They already outnumber us by at least four to one in the Palace, and they’ve been steadily taking control over planetary defense and communications installations—our people are now doing mere grot work for them at the spaceport.” Braca spat out, his disgust over how his people were being treated evident in his face and voice.
“I see.” The Marquessa nodded her head as she smiled inwardly—her Sebacean lover’s words, along with his body language had informed the wily seductress that she had succeeded in turning the dull Peacekeeper officer into a useful tool. “Now…about your plans…you know they’re not without risk…you’ll have to find some way to make sure that you and anyone you bring in with you avoids any contact with Aycharaych. If he so much as gets within line of sight with you—you’re dead.”
“That’s easy to manage.” Braca replied as he kissed his lover’s neck. “Much of what I have to do will take me back to the command carrier. That’s where most of us are.”
“Excellent.” Alana purred as she began to remove Braca’s shirt. Then, as they made love, the captivating Terran aristocrat fed her plan to her drugged co-conspirator. “Now…dear…” The Marquessa smiled as she gently stroked her lover, her motions and gestures automatic and practiced, “You never discussed this with me—it was all your plan—neither I nor anyone else had anything to do with it.”
“Of course, Alana. You’d never be involved in anything like this.” The pliable Braca, now fully under the control of the sorgan, sighed as he relaxed, enjoying his lover’s attentions, not even realizing that her mind was elsewhere—worried about what was happening to her former lover and father of her unborn child.
************************
“Why did you do it, father?” The young half-Luxan son of D’Argo asked, not wanting to believe his father capable of doing such a thing. “How could you betray your comrade like that?”
“I had no choice, Jothee.” The tormented elder Luxan sighed, his head bent down as he sat on the bench of their cell. “It was that or lose you.”
“Then you should have let me go!” Jothee raged. “You were being selfish, father! You thought only of yourself! Your betrayal has dishonored us all—you, me, our entire clan! I would rather have died!”
As D’Argo absorbed his son’s wrath, he sighed, “I’m sorry, Jothee, but your death was too high a price to pay.”
“No father…” The young man shook his head sadly, “You haven’t even begun to pay for what you have done—you’ll see. It would have been better for both of us to die.”
************************
Several hours later, after bidding her lover a sleepy goodbye, Alana knocked discreetly on the door of Zhaan and Rygel’s quarters. “Zhaan…Rygel.” The Marquessa whispered as she darted into their quarters. “John’s been taken. D’Argo betrayed him.”
“I don’t believe it!” Zhaan started, rising to her feet. “D’Argo would never betray John.”
“Braca told me.” The Terran aristocrat said in an even voice, her practiced calm exterior barely keeping in check the torment raging inside her. “He’s lying unconscious right now in a cell. They’re going to hypnoprobe him as soon as he’s ready.”
“The Marquessa is right.” Rygel said reluctantly, and then, seeing the eyes of both women fixed on him, cleared his throat nervously before continuing, “I saw him staring at a holoimage of Aycharaych and Scorpius with his son, Jothee between them. Even a total yotz could figure out what they wanted him to do.”
“And why didn’t you say anything earlier?” The Marquessa asked, a dangerous edge to her voice.
“Because I wasn’t sure what to do about it.” The Hynerian royal flatly responded before giving the Terran aristocrat a knowing look. “You’ve played this game many times, Your Grace. You know as well as I…how valuable information like this is can be—how useful a game token it can be if played at the proper time.” Then, looking square into her eyes, the manipulative Dominar flashed a slight grin, “If our positions were reversed…what would you have done?”
“I’ll speak with you later about this, Rygel.” The Marquessa replied in a frosty tone, evading his question, before turning to Zhaan, worry lines now beginning to appear on her face. “Zhaan, We have to get him out before they start on him…”
But before she could outline her plan, The Delvian Pau quickly interrupted, “No—we can’t.”
“What?” The Terran woman exclaimed. “Don’t you realize the hell he’s going to be put through? A hypnoprobe is a direct electronic attack on the brain—in the hands of an unskilled interrogator or if too much force is used—it can destroy his mind. And then there’s that damned chip…”
“Exactly.” Zhaan interjected. “Remember when I told you that I might know of a way to neutralize that chip?” Seeing the human woman nod her head, the tall, blue skinned Delvian continued, “You also remember what I told you about Unity?”
“Yes…I don’t understand it completely, but I remember you saying that it created a sort of psychic bond between you and John.” Alana answered softly as she adjusted her kimono.
“Right, Alana. I can use the Unity I have with John to turn the electronic attack of the hypnoprobe from John’s mind to the chip—hopefully neutralizing it. It’s risky, child—but it’s the only way.”
“Ok.” The Marquessa said in an uncertain voice. “But that only takes care of part of the problem. We still need to free John.”
“I think I can help with that.” Rygel said in a soft voice, remembering something his human companion once told him about doing the right thing. “I know of a way into and out of the palace—I discovered it the first time we were here and the Empress was planning to execute us all. I can escape and return with Aeryn and the others…”
“It might work…” Alana mused, the practical agent returning. “We’ll need to coordinate with Braca. I’ve fed him sorgan—it’s a Betelgeusan drug that renders whoever takes it especially subject to suggestion. He’s organizing a counter coup. Now, this has no chance in hell of working—I didn’t intend it to. What it will do is provide an opening at the right moment permitting enough of our ships to punch through and land troops. Otherwise, we’re gonna have to rely on planetary bombardment and I can tell you that there won’t be much left of this place once we get through dropping rocks and missiles on it.” Making her decision, the Marquessa nodded her head as she stared at Rygel. “Alright, toad—go! And I want you to give this to Flandry.” She then handed Rygel a data crystal. “It’s coded—he’ll know what to do with it. But remember this—if you’re scamming me here, I’m gonna use you as the piñata at my next Christmas party—understand?”
Nodding his head, Rygel quietly slunk out of the room as Zhaan took a deep breath. “Now…I have to prepare myself for what is to come, my child—and you need your rest as well—tomorrow will be a long day for us all.” Nodding her head in agreement, Alana opened the door, and after checking to see that the coast was clear, quietly slipped back into her room to rest and await the developments of the morrow.
**************************
“Officer Zarno!” Braca smiled as he greeted his fellow officer and former classmate in a corridor of their command carrier, and then lowering his voice, asked, “Have you sent the courier off?”
“I have.” The Peacekeeper officer replied also in a low voice, his eyes reflecting his hatred of the two Merseian guards patrolling the corridor where they were standing. Then, once the guards had disappeared, the officer continued, “I sent it disguised as a normal courier run to the coordinates you gave me. Also, the Pleisars and the Triars on the planet surface have pledged their loyalty to us. I’ve arranged for the Pleisars to be on guard in the Palace. So…when do we move?”
“Soon, my friend.” Braca scowled. “Soon—we’ll be rid of these frelling greenskins—and Scorpius as well.” As Braca strode away, imagining himself in a Terran uniform, in command of his own ship, a slight smile crossed his features.
************************
Pressing on quickly after taking on the Peacekeeper Captain that the lovely Terran admiral had decided to keep as a pet, and after leaving prize crews on the few Peacekeeper ships that were still operational, the Van Rijn and the other vessels in her task force continued to race towards the royal planet, the spearhead of Mackenzie-Faulke’s armada. Other elements of the Terran fleet had already split off—one squadron racing towards Delvia, another striking deep into the Peacekeeper domains, while yet another moved to secure the Nebari border. In each case, Peacekeeper vessels quickly found themselves hopelessly outmatched by the larger and more advanced Technic warships of the Terran Navy. The times in which Merseian vessels accompanied Peacekeeper ships, the combat was much more intense and the Terrans did take damages and losses, but still, the Terran ships, by sheer dint of numbers, emerged victorious over their opposition.
“Admiral?” The newly minted Lt. Commander Rodriguez called out to his superior officer, now reading status reports. “Our sensors are picking up a Peacekeeper courier vessel—transmitting a Terran recognition code.”
“Interesting.” Lennox mused. “Could be a trap—or an opportunity. Keep the fleet in hyperspace and send a Comet class vessel to investigate.”
Some time later, Rodriguez approached his admiral carrying a data crystal. “Ma’am? I think you might be interested in this.”
Returning several minutes later from her ready room, Melissa Lennox grinned broadly as she addressed her executive officer. “Commander de Reuyter? The Van Rijn is yours. I’m transferring my flag to the Freya. I want it, the Thor, Achilles, Hector, and the fast assault transports carrying the 82nd and 6th Marine Regiments to be immediately detached from the squadron.” The first officer nodded his head knowingly as he realized that she was detaching the fastest and most modern cruisers in her squadron; along with two elite jump assault regiments—his commanding officer would soon either receive more honors or would be dead—or both.
“Here’s our assault plan.” She then handed him a data crystal, “You’re to continue to press for the Sebacean Royal Planet at maximum speed. If all goes well, by the time you get there, we’ll have already secured the planet. If not…throw the Merseians out—I don’t care if you have to bring up the mass drivers and drop rocks all over the inhabited surface of that planet to do it—I want them outta there—understand?” Seeing her executive officer grimly nod his head, she turned to leave the bridge, calling out her final instructions; “I want that task force ready to go by the time I’m on the bridge of the Freya. Oh—and throw that Captain…Burol I think is his name… in the brig—he’s nothing but a crashing bore—cute…but dumb. And if he gives you a hard time—space him.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” The tall, dark skinned Ifrian native answered back as his mercurial commander left the bridge to take command of her newly formed fast attack force.
*******************************
“Greetings, Ka’ D’Argo.” The tortured Luxan’s head jerked up at the sound of the musical voice of the Cherionite, Aycharaych, coming from the door of the cell where he and his son were confined. “I’m sorry about your accommodations…but we needed to keep you secure until your ship was ready to depart.”
“Ship?”
“Oh…I’m sorry…” Aycharaych smiled as he picked up on the confusion in both the mind and face of both father and son. “Things have been so hectic that I forgot. You see…I have another favor to ask of you. A rather large battle squadron of ours is enroute to Lux and should be there shortly. We need your services as a liaison—to help smoothen the process of integrating your world within the Roidhunate. It’s a very important…” The Cherionite then looked pointedly at the young boy sitting on the other bench, “And rewarding task. One I’m sure that you’ll undertake to the best of your abilities.”
Then, as the Merseians motioned for D’Argo and Jothee to leave their cell, the Luxan warrior looked at his son, a tear rolling down his cheek. His young son was right, D’Argo realized, he was only now beginning to pay the price for his betrayal.
***************************
Flandry and Jenavia were briefing Aeryn, Katralla, and Tyno on their raid of the spaceport when Rygel was escorted into the room. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” The guard saluted, “But we saw this Hynerian in one of back alleys near the palace and, as he’s the only Hynerian on the planet, we assumed he was one of the prisoners from the palace.”
“I was—you yotz!” The dispossessed Dominar huffed as he straightened out his coat. “I escaped!” He then turned towards Aeryn and the others, the haughty look on his face now giving way to compassion. “I was sent by the Marquessa. Crichton has been captured.”
All color drained from Aeryn’s face as she took in the news that she had been dreading. After several moments, Aeryn stared straight ahead and said in a low, sure voice, “I am going to free him. If anyone wants to go with me, you’re welcome to do so, but I will not let anyone—ANYONE—stand in my way.” She then picked up her pulse rifle and jacket, but was once again restrained before she could leave, this time by the vice-like grip of Flandry’s hand on her arm.
“I thought you already had this conversation with Katralla, Lieutenant.” The Terran agent rasped, deliberately using Aeryn’s new rank. Hearing Flandry’s use of her rank, the former Peacekeeper’s military training once again kicked in, forcing her to resist her first impulse which was to attempt to break away from her superior officer’s hold. Feeling her relax, Flandry eased his grip. “First…we hear what the slug has to say. Then…we come up with a plan that’ll work. After that, Rygel goes back to the palace…” Seeing the Hynerian royal getting ready to object, Flandry silenced him with a gesture. “If you don’t go back, Junior, they’ll tighten their guard—and we’ll never be able to get any of them out—understand?”
“I understand.” The Hynerian scowled as he handed the Terran officer the data crystal Alana had given him. “Here…this is from the Marquessa.”
“Excellent!” Flandry grinned as he took the crystal and went into the next room. Several minutes later, he came back smiling, and then, after giving Jenavia a twirl and a kiss, exclaimed, “We might actually be able to pull this off!” Then lighting a cigarette and handing silver cigarette case and lighter to his Sebacean lover who then took a cigarette for herself, he grinned, “Ok, people…listen up! Here’s what we’re going to do…”
***********************
Struggling to consciousness, John staggered up from the hard bench that comprised his bed, and taking careful stock of his surroundings, sat back down on the bench, head in hands. D’Argo—his best friend—had betrayed him! He had betrayed him to his greatest enemy—Scorpius—who was probably even now getting ready to rip his mind apart. “Ok, John…” The despondent Crichton muttered to himself, “Got any bright ideas on how we’re gonna get outta this mess?” Looking up only to once again see the bare walls of his cell, Crichton sunk back down on the bench, clasping his hands behind his head, “Didn’t think so.” He sighed resignedly, answering his own question.
**********************
Quietly slipping back into the palace, Rygel slunk into Alana and Zhaan’s rooms, and, bravely resisting the urge to snatch up the baubles lying on their tables, roused them from their light slumber. “Aeryn and the others are ready to go in the morning.” The Hynerian royal reported to the two beautiful women, both wearing silk kimonos and sipping a local hot tea-like drink.
“Ok.” The Marquessa replied, “I’ll make sure Braca moves at the same time. Unfortunately, we’re not gonna be able to know whether my pet Peacekeeper’s managed to get word to the fleet and whether whoever gets the message has the initiative to act on it until after everything plays out. If we get a gunslinger…” Alana chuckled lightly as she saw the look of confusion on her friends’ faces, “Someone who’ll jump quickly on it like Lennox or Mackenzie-Faulkes—we might just pull this off. If we get some timeserver or plodder though…” The Terran aristocrat left her statement unfinished—they all knew what would happen if this were to fail. Turning to the Delvian mystic, Alana smiled warmly, “Zhaan? Are you ready?”
Nodding her head gently, the wise Pau smiled back, “Yes, child. There is nothing more to do now but wait.” She then sat on the floor in a lotus position and tuning out all distractions, prepared for the coming struggle for the mind of her good friend.
*****************************
“Ah…Commander Crichton…” John sat up with a start as he heard the voice of his nemesis, the leather clad Scorpius. “You’ve arisen. That’s good. You’ve already briefly met my associate from our Merseian allies, Aycharaych.”
“Greetings Commander.” The musical voice then filled the room. “It’s a pleasure to meet such a unique individual as yourself. I am so much looking forward to talking with you.”
“So what now, Scorpy?” John scowled, raising his voice defiantly, “Another session in the comfy chair?”
“Oh no, John.” The half-Scarran grinned evilly. “Breakfast.”
“That’s correct, Commander.” The Cherionite smiled beatifically. “I first want to hear all about life on Terra in the twentieth century. You see…your species has always fascinated me, and, ever since I’ve been made aware of your existence, I’ve looked forward to the opportunity to discuss pre-Technic history and culture with someone who has actually lived it.”
“Well, Aycharaych…” John heroically managed a sarcastic grin, “If you let me go, you can come on over to my place whenever you want and we’ll gab.”
Laughing genially, the Cherionite shook his head, “Regretfully…I cannot take you up on your kind offer. The knowledge you possess locked in your mind makes you a most…special…individual, so I’m afraid I’ll have to settle for just this breakfast.”
“I have other details I must tend to, John…” Scorpius once again flashed a predatory grin. “But we shall see each other very soon.”
“John…” The golden voiced Cherionite once again spoke, “I would strongly recommend that you join me—take the few precious minutes of comfort that I am offering you.”
“In other words…” The human sneered as he regarded his foes, “I oughta enjoy my last meal.”
As the Merseian soldiers entered the cell, taking their positions on either side of the hapless former astronaut, his captor sadly nodded his head, “I’m sorry, John—I truly wish there was another way.”
“Yeah, right.” John snorted as he and his captors walked down the corridor. “I bet you say that to everyone whose mind you’re about to dissect.”
****************************
John took his time with breakfast, savoring every bite and every drink of the luscious feast set before him, knowing that this would be the last meal he would ever eat. Against his will, he had found himself drawn into conversation with his captor, discussing with him a broad range of topics regarding twentieth century Earth, starting with its history and culture, and ending with anecdotes of John’s life with his family and friends. As John finished the last of the human coffee that Aycharaych had brought with him, a Merseian officer, accompanied by two guards came in, and whispered into the ear of his captor.
“I’m sorry, John.” The Cherionite said, a note of genuine sadness and regret in his voice, “But it’s time now—we have to go.”
“What?” John slurred as he tried to get up, but feeling exceptionally heavy, sank back down into his chair.
“Again I must apologize, Commander. I took the liberty of drugging your coffee with a mild sedative…we can’t take the risk of your trying something foolish—such as taking your life, my friend—what you have in your mind is much too important.” Then, he motioned to the two guards who easily picked up the now pliant human. “Take him to the interrogation chamber and prepare him for hypnoprobing. I will be there in a few minutes.”
John saw everything though a jumbled collage of pictures and forms. The corridor as the guards dragged his limp body to the chamber…the gurney they placed him on…he felt the straps that they used to secure his arms and legs…felt the IV needle ready to feed nutrients into his body in the event it shut down due to the stress of the probe…felt the cold metal of the hypnoprobe as they fastened it round his head like a crown. His final sight before passing into unconsciousness was Scorpius—or rather three Scorpiuses…all coming together like a triangle…smiling that same cold icy grin that he always smiled…eyeing the human as an eagle would prey. “Scorrrpppyyyy…” John slurred, the effects of the drug now fully kicking in, “Youuuu…ssshhtillll…innnnn…mmmmyyyy…nightttttt…maressssssss…”
“Not for much longer, John.” The half-Scarran smiled, “Not for much longer.” Nodding his head to the Merseian technician, Scorpius looked on with satisfaction as the tech activated the probe and Crichton screamed.
***********************************
Opening his eyes, John stepped back in shock as he realized he was in the same white with red trim house in Cocoa Beach where he had lived so many years ago with his father, mother, and two sisters. Looking out the window, he could see the thick dark clouds rolling in from the sea as well as the trees swaying in the wind. “John!” Turning quickly about, the time-displaced astronaut saw his father nailing boards to the windows. “I need your help—the storm’ll be here soon.” Moving automatically, John ran to where his father was working. “Here, son—hold on to this board while I hammer.” Then, as John held on to the plywood, his father hammered the nails into place. “Let’s go son—we got to get all these windows boarded up before that…” He then motioned to the rapidly approaching storm, “…hits.”
“What the hell is going on here?” The confused human shouted as his father nailed yet another board into place. “One thing I know for sure—you’re not my father—so what sorta sick game are you playing Scorpy? Or is this your new playmate? Come out Aycharaych—I don’t have time for this bull dren! Let’s do it and get it over with!”
“You know who I am, John.” The tall, distinguished, white haired man smiled.
“You’re the Ancient that I talked to back on the phony earth.” Crichton said, barely hiding his anger. “Do you know the hell I’ve been put through thanks to you?”
“I’m not he of whom you speak, John.” The figure that represented Jack Crichton smiled sadly as he hammered yet another in place. “I’m the essence that was placed in your mind—think of me as something of a guardian of the knowledge of the wormhole equations that are locked inside. Just as he…” The ersatz Crichton, pointed towards the figure of Scorpius walking towards the house, just ahead of the storm, “Is also in your mind. Think of him as the burglar trying to take away all that you have and all that you are.”
“And the storm…” John shuddered involuntarily as Scorpius and the dark clouds, wind, and rain grew ever closer and more violent with each passing second.
“That is how your mind perceives the mental probing device that is being used against you.” The Ancient replied as he hammered the last board into place. “It is taking on a form that is familiar to you—a violent storm that you call a hurricane.” As soon as the white haired imitation of John’s father finished his statement, both his and John’s head’s jerked up as they both became aware of yet another presence in the room. “She is here.” Both men smiled as the form of Zhaan materialized. “Come…both of you. There is something you must see and we have very little time.” At that moment, as if to reinforce what the Ancient had just said, the wind, with a horrible howl, battered against the windows and doors in an effort to force its way in.
Hurrying down what John recognized as the hallway to his old house, and then up the stairs, the threesome entered what the ex-astronaut soon realized was his old room. However, it was nothing like what he remembered it to be. The old twin bed was there, so was his nightstand, dresser, and his model airplanes and rockets, but lining all the walls—from floor to ceiling—were pictures—pictures of his youth with his family, his college years with DK, his early spaceflights while he was working on the Farscape Project, and of his time on Moya—and in particular, one very special picture taken just recently—that of him and Aeryn wrapped in each other’s arms…right after they had confessed their love for each other. It was as if all his memories were stored in those pictures. “That’s right, John.” Crichton smiled as he heard the soft words of his Delvian friend. “Each of those pictures represents a memory—an important piece of you. Whatever we do…” Zhaan stated, steel and determination in her voice, “We cannot let Scorpius and Aycharaych in here.”
“And locked in here…” The phony Jack said grimly as he pushed aside a picture of John playing catch with Timmy Blake, a kid who used to live across the street from him when he was only seven, revealing a wall safe, “Is what they seek most of all—the wormhole equations. I cannot help you anymore than I have already, John.” The white haired figure said sadly as he shook his head. “My sole purpose here is to guard what lies in that safe—the rest is up to you and your friend—good luck, my children.”
With that, the Ancient dematerialized just as a sudden burst of wind blew open the door, “John?” Crichton looked up in fear as he heard the voice of his tormentor, now standing at the threshold where the now splintered door once stood. “It’s no use hiding—you can’t run from your own mind! Give yourself up and it’ll be over quicker and with far less pain.”
Gathering up his courage, John shouted back his defiant answer, “Screw you, you motherfrelling piece of dren! You want me so bad and what I got inside of my head—then you come and take it—if you got the mivoks!” Sighing, John turned his head towards the blue skinned figure of his companion, “Ok, Blue…you’re the mind expert here—how’re we gonna get outta this?”
*****************************
“Ok, everyone!” Rear Admiral Melissa Lennox, the direct descendent of John’s sister, Melissa and his best friend, DK, standing on the bridge of her flagship, Freya, barked out as she glared at the figures on her view screen, “We get one chance to pull this off. If one of you screws this up—I’ll have all of your asses—read me!” After each officer either nodded or voiced his or her understanding, the fiery squadron commander issued her orders. “Achilles—you’re to join me in attacking the Gwendryff. Hector and Thor—that other Merseian cruiser—the Clandwyr—is yours. Assault transports! You’re not gonna have much time, and we have to assume the planetary defenses are all hot to trot. Jump in system…get as close as you can…dump your jump pods…then get the hell outta there—got it?!”
“Yes, Ma’am!” The ship commanders all shouted out in chorus.
“What about the Peacekeeper command carrier and her escort vessels?” The captain of the Hector, a normally cautious man, asked carefully, mindful of the temper of his admiral.
“Weren’t you paying attention during the briefings?” The mercurial Lennox snapped as she slapped her swagger stick against the palm of her hand. “The executive officer of the command carrier—someone named Braca—is switching sides. Him and his fighters are gonna be assisting us. He’s also infiltrated regiments loyal to him on the ground. His cue to act is our arrival. Now…I want you to maintain a weapons lock on him until we see what colors he really is flying. If he’s playing games with us—take him out first using hyperspace drive missiles—don’t play around with him—then take out your primary targets—understood?”
“Yes Ma’am.” The chastened captain of the Hector replied in a surly tone as he acknowledged his orders.
“Right.” Lennox smiled grimly, “Unless there are further questions, then all ships go immediately to General Quarters and let’s get to work.”
***************************
“Ok…everyone knows what they’re supposed to do?” Flandry scowled as he regarded the scratch commando force under his command, all crouched in the narrow passageway. While most of them were natives of the Royal Planet, anxious to free their world and restore Katralla and Tyno to their thrones, two of them had a far more personal agenda. One was an elegantly beautiful lithe and deadly blonde haired woman, and the other, an attractive raven-haired woman, her body well conditioned and used to hardships. On seeing both his current lover Jenavia and his former lover Aeryn both nodding their heads, the Terran agent cocked a sardonic grin as he prepared to push aside the access cover. “Right, then. Let’s do it.”
**************************
Lieutenant Braca permitted himself a self-satisfied smile as he contemplated the near future. His plans were about to bear fruit and soon he would receive the command and recognition that was his due. The Pleisars and Triars were on the surface of the planet in the Palace, the spaceport, and in as many planetary defense and communications and control centers as possible. The appearance of the Terrans would be the signal for the rising to begin. The plan was for the prowlers and marauders to form up as if they were going to attack the Terrans, and then, at the last moment, veer off and attack the Merseian ships while the command carrier, now in frag cannon range of Gwendryff, would open fire against the Merseian cruiser. Although he could not ascertain the loyalties of the escort commanders, Braca was sure that they would, once they saw what was happening, join him and his followers in throwing off the yoke of the Merseians. Now, Braca smiled inwardly as he regarded the hulking form of the Merseian cruiser that currently filled his viewscreen, all that is needed is for the Terrans to appear.
*****************************
Rygel paced nervously as Alana sat quietly on the couch, sipping the local equivalent of hot tea from a cup. “How can you sit there so calmly?” The worried Dominar asked as he regarded the figure of his Delvian companion, now in what seemed to be a catatonic trance.
“What would you have me do, Rygel?” The Marquessa smiled back, “We’ve done all we can—the rest is up to the others. Worrying isn’t going to alter events one way or the other. All we can do is sit and wait.” Then, she tossed the last of the Terran figs that she had brought with her as a gift for the royal family to the fretting Hynerian. “Here.” Smoothly catching the fruit, the always-hungry Dominar grinned appreciatively as he ate the sweet fig. “Now…sit down and relax and let the others do their jobs.”
******************************
Nodding her head, Zhaan whispered urgently to her companion as the walked down the stairs to meet their foes. “Don’t forget, John. This is your mind! Always remember that you must maintain control over the battlefield—the moment you lose that control—the moment they turn conditions their way—all is lost!” Then, sensing the presence of another, Zhaan said, “You have to confront Scorpius, John. It seems that I shall be occupied with another.”
“Ok, Zhaan.” John nodded grimly, “I think I gotcha.” The image of the house faded, to be replaced by children’s toys scattered about and books stood up on their edges, forming a makeshift fort. As John and Zhaan looked at each other, John couldn’t resist cracking a smile—they were both dressed in green army uniforms, John carrying an old-fashioned Thompson sub-machinegun, and Zhaan an M-1 rifle. “I used to play with these toy army men when I was a kid.” John explained. “Somehow I thought it was appropriate here.” Just then, the sky grew dark above them. “Incoming!” John shouted as he pushed Zhaan aside, diving to the ground after her.
As the little blue marble struck the floor near them, they heard the unmistakable voice of Scorpius. “Give up, John!”
“Frell you, Scorpy!” Crichton replied defiantly as he let loose a burst from his Thompson, the bullets harmlessly impacting on the side of the toy GTO behind which the leather clad Peacekeeper crouched.
“Ah…Pau Zootah Zhaan.” The lyrical voice of Aycharaych clad in a tan uniform and also carrying a rifle with a bayonet, forced the Delvian woman to turn her gaze towards him. “It seems your psychic abilities are far more formidable than I had at first thought.” He then suddenly lunged at the blue-skinned woman, the bayonet slashing across her abdomen, drawing fluid.
Screaming, Zhaan charged, parrying Aycharaych’s thrusts as he did hers, driving her foe slowly backwards as John continued his fire against the slow advances of the tan soldiers under Scorpius’ command. But then, just as John had mowed down a squad of tans rushing his makeshift fort, a cluster of marbles impacted against the book that he was using as cover. “Zhaan!” Crichton shouted out in warning as the book began to topple, “Look out!”
Seeing the book descending upon her and the simulacrum of the Cherionite with whom she was struggling, Zhaan summoned up all her strength, and breaking his grapple on her, pushed him to the floor as she dodged to the side, barely escaping the fallen book.
***********************
Breaking mental contact, the telepathic Cherionite shook his head as he regarded the human lying on the gurney. “He’s far more resistant than I had thought. It also seems that he and the Delvian have a psionic rapport.”
“Yes.” Scorpius flashed an icy smile. “Crichton never ceases to amaze me. So…do we increase force?”
Nodding his head, Aycharaych turned to the technician. “After I recuperate, increase to force ten—it’ll destroy his mind, and probably kill him, but that should prove sufficient force to give us what we want.” Then, turning to the Merseian commander, he ordered, “Eliminate the Delvian and the Hynerian, immediately.”
“What of the Marquessa?” The half-Scarran asked, “I would think that she still has quite a bit of value as a bargaining chip.”
“Quite so.” Aycharaych smiled. “Before executing the others, remove the Marquessa to one of the cells—purely on a temporary basis, mind. See to her comfort and treat her courteously—understood?”
Saluting, the Merseian officer turned and left the room, and picking up a couple of guards, marched down the corridor to carry out his orders.
*************************
As soon as the Terrans dropped back into normal space, they let loose their barrage of missiles and beams at the Merseian cruisers currently in orbit around the Royal Planet. The Merseians, immediately alerted to the oncoming Terrans by their hyperspace detectors, immediately retaliated. Missiles and energy beams impacted on defense screens as the assault transports made their dash towards the planet’s surface. Lieutenant Braca, smiling as he saw the Terran fleet materialize and then open fire, looked up as the Merseian commander of the Gwendryff appeared on his viewscreen. “Peacekeeper! Launch your fighters and intercept the assault transports. Once they’ve been dealt with, then you are to attack the Terran cruisers.”
“Yes, Sir.” Braca replied with false sincerity as he ordered the scramble and pressed a button that would alert his forces on the ground that it was now time to act.
As the Peacekeeper marauders and prowlers formed up and began their approach on the attack transports, the commander of the Hector, remembering his instructions from the admiral, prepared to launch missiles at the command carrier. But, because he was by nature a cautious and plodding man, he took the precaution of first contacting his superior. This time, his plodding nature served him well as the figure of Rear Admiral Lennox filled his screen.
After he had asked for permission to fire, the fiery admiral sighed resignedly and then replied, “Captain Welles…have the Peacekeeper craft closed to their weapons range yet?” Seeing the hapless Welles shake his head, Lennox snorted, “Then wait until they do…if they do close—then kill ‘em…but not until then!”
After confirming his orders and breaking off communications, the Terran captain sighed in relief as the Peacekeeper ships veered to attack the Gwendryff. Smiling, he then barked out orders to his weapons officer. “All weapons…intensify fire on the Clandwyr! Do not fire on Peacekeeper vessels unless they fire on us!”
***************************
As Flandry’s group emerged from the hidden passageway, they split off to carry out their assignments—Jenavia leading half of them down the corridor to the quarters that Rygel had said were currently housing him and the two women captives; Flandry and Aeryn and their group moving down towards the lower levels and the cells where Jenavia had told them would be where they would most likely find John and the traitor, D’Argo. As Aeryn contemplated D’Argo’s betrayal, she tightened her grip on her pulse rifle, her white knuckles silent testimony to her growing anger. Flandry, seeing the grim look on his former lover’s face as well as the white knuckles gripping her weapon, shook his head, although normally he had no love for traitors—even ones that he used, a part of him couldn’t help but feel sorry for the Luxan warrior—should he ever fall into Aeryn’s hands, Flandry thought ruefully, he’ll be a long time dying.
****************************
Jenavia, leading her troop, kept constantly to the sides of the corridor as they crept towards the guest accommodations housing Alana and the others. As they moved silently, the former disruptor flashed a slight grin. She and Flandry had done a very good job in whipping this group of deserters from the Royal Army and angry citizens into an effective fighting force in a remarkably short period of time. Then, hearing voices, she raised her hand—a silent signal to halt.
Glancing around the corner, the deadly blonde saw a Merseian officer addressing four soldiers. “You understand the orders? The Terran aristocrat is to be transferred to the cells. Treat her properly, but it is to be made clear to her that she must go. The others are to be immediately executed. Then take their bodies to the crematoria.” After giving his orders, the officer marched down the corridor in one direction while the squad marched in the other—towards the guest quarters housing their soon to be victims.
Detailing two men, both former palace guards whom Jenavia knew had no qualms about doing knife work, to take out the officer, the former disruptor then signaled for two others that she knew she could rely on to follow her as they silently trailed behind the death squad.
Approaching the door, the execution squad entered. “What is the meaning of this?” The Marquessa, putting on an air of arrogant disdain, looked down her nose at the Merseian ensign commanding the detail.
“Madam.” The ensign replied politely, but pitching his voice tone in such a manner that indicated to the experienced Terran that he would only accept immediate compliance. “You are to gather your possessions and immediately accompany me.”
“Where are you taking me?” The Marquessa demanded as she gathered her jewels and a few other essentials into a carry bag.
“You are being taken to more secure quarters. I was told to tell you that this would only be temporary.” Then, seeing that the Terran woman was deliberately stalling for time, the Merseian ensign requested, now with a slight note of menace in his voice. “I must insist that you leave with me now.”
“Very well.” The Marquessa, a note of sadness to her voice as she looked with regret upon both Zhaan and Rygel. “But understand that I do so under protest and that I will expect my servants to be well cared for during my absence.”
“Do not worry, Madam.” The Merseian said, his voice devoid of emotion. “We will see that your servants are properly dealt with.”
Rygel, a lump forming in his throat as it quickly dawned on him what was about to happen, cringed as he passed gas, helium filling the quarters. “Please…” The Hynerian whined, “Spare me…I have information valuable to Aycharaych.”
Knowing that Rygel was going to betray her plans for the sake of his own survival, the Marquessa, her growing maternal feelings coming to the fore, lunged at the Hynerian royal, “You say one word, you frelling toad…and if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll see you killed—I swear, I’ll make sure you’re standing next to me in front of the motherfrelling firing squad!”
Signaling two of his troopers to restrain the enraged woman, the ensign commanded, “Take her out of here to her cell!” Then, motioning to the other trooper, he ordered. “Take this thing to Aycharaych. He’ll soon know whether he’s lying or not. I’ll take care of the blue one.”
Seeing the confusion, Jenavia smiled. Moving silently and quickly, she and her people closed the distance between them and the Merseians. Her men, seeing her point towards the Merseians dragging the Marquessa away, moved towards them, while she decided to target the one still in the quarters. Approaching the door, she saw the Merseian officer take out his blaster, and point it at the helpless Delvian sitting on the floor frozen in her trance. Unsheathing the stiletto hidden in her wrist, and remembering what Flandry had told her about Merseian biology, she struck, stabbing him at the base of his skull, driving up into his brainstem. Avoiding his slashing tail, she wrapped her legs around his barrel chest, and struck again at the now howling Merseian, this time severing his carotid artery. Feeling him as he heaved his last breaths, the trained assassin relaxed her death grip upon him, allowing him to collapse in a heap on the floor.
One of the men she had detailed to go after the Marquessa returned, along with the beautiful Asian woman. “Secor was killed and the other one with the Hynerian got away.” He reported, feeling guilty at his failure to completely accomplish the mission.
“That’s alright.” The deadly Jenavia replied as she cleaned her blade. “As Flandry would say—the dren’s already hit the fan. Help me get rid of this…” She then pointed down towards the body of the dead Merseian officer and get set up—we’re going to have company soon.” Then turning towards the Marquessa, the former disruptor asked, “Could you give us a hand?”
“Sure.” The Terran aristocrat and trained spy said as she looked down with disgust at the dead Merseian as the freedom fighter dragged him out in the corridor.
***************************
John and Zhaan were now back in his Cocoa Beach house, standing in his room, still lined with pictures. Then, suddenly, the Delvian Pau feeling a sudden chill at the base of her spine, stiffened. John, seeing the look of distress on his ally’s face, frowned, “Hey, Blue—you ok?”
“I’m fine now, John.” The blue-skinned priestess, relaxing now that the crisis had passed, smiled. “For a moment, I felt a sense of danger—my physical body was being threatened. But it has passed. At least for now, I am safe.”
“That good, ‘cause I think we’re in trouble again!” John said as he pointed at the images of Scorpius and Aycharaych now appearing on the threshold.
***************************
The commanders of the assault transports, seeing the prowlers and marauders veer off, also sighed in relief as they ordered their vessels into evasive maneuvers to avoid the sporadic fire coming at them from the planetary defenses. As they drew closer to the planet, the energy beams and missile fire increased in intensity. The Mirkheim, struck by an energy beam, glowed momentarily before disappearing in an explosion of fire. The remaining assault ships, seeing the death of their sister, carried out even more intensive evasive maneuvers as they closed to the point where they could release their pods. Reaching the release point, the flotilla commander gave the order, “Drop all pods and withdraw!” With that, bay doors opened and the transports disgorged their cargo of jump pods carrying within them the men and equipment of the elite 6th and 82nd Marine jump assault regiments.
As the pods began their descent into the atmosphere, frantically carrying out course corrections to evade the now blistering planetary defense fire, many exploded, appearing as little novae in the daylight sky. However, more succeeded in dodging the murderous fire, and hitting ground, opened to release the hard-bitten Marines within. Shouting war cries, the Terrans quickly rushed forth to engage with the Merseian soldiers waiting for them at the spaceport, outside the Palace, and in numerous other locations all over the planet’s surface.
***********************
Hearing the unmistakable sounds of pulse rifles, slugthrowers, and blasters in the corridor, Flandry and Aeryn each taking opposite sides, darted quick glances before quickly withdrawing back to cover. “Looks like Alana’s plan worked.” Flandry smiled grimly. Peacekeepers and Merseians are fighting each other.” As he finished his words, an injured Peacekeeper staggered into the alcove where Flandry and Aeryn, separated from the rest of their team, had hidden. Recognizing the staggering figure, the former Peacekeeper gasped, “Oran!”
“Sun? Aeryn Sun?” The injured Peacekeeper, dropping to his knees, called out in a weak voice.
“It’s me, Oran.” Aeryn said softly as she cradled the head of her dying former comrade. Then, turning to the Terran agent, the raven-haired Sebacean explained, “We’ve known each other since pre-cadet training. Oran was the first man I…recreated with—he’s also a good comrade…and friend.” The ex-Peacekeeper admitted.
“Thank you, Aeryn.” The dying Peacekeeper murmured in a low voice, “I’m glad I got the chance to see you once again.” Then, gasping his last breath, he said to a now tearful Aeryn, “I never…believed…that dren…they said…about you. I knew…that…you were…never…a…traitor…”
Seeing the tearful figure of his former lover cradling the head of her dead childhood friend, Flandry placed a compassionate hand on his former lover, “I know, Aeryn…it’s hard…but we have to go now—John needs us—he needs you.”
“You’re right, Dominic.” Aeryn said, her voice now crisp and mechanical. “I’ve lost one friend, I’m not going to lose the man I love.” Then, she kissed her fingertips, and placed them on the dead lips of her old friend and first lover. “Let’s go Dominic—John needs us now.”
*************************
“Achilles is taking a pounding, Ma’am.” The tactical officer of the Freya called out as she shook from the impact of another spread of Merseian missiles and beams on her screens. “So’s that command carrier.” As the chestnut haired admiral redirected her attention towards the display, she saw how Braca’s command carrier, closing to within point blank range of the Gwendryff, had opened fire with her frag cannons, pouring everything she had into the shields of the Merseian cruiser.
“Keep the pressure on!” Lennox commanded. “Intensify fire at this point…” She then ordered, pointing with her swagger stick at a section of the Gwendryff’s screen that appeared to be weakening.
As the alert klaxons sounded and his ship shook under the horrendous impact of the Merseian missiles and beams, Lieutenant Braca came to an epiphany as it rapidly dawned on him that the only command he would ever have was the one he had now. As he heard his old classmate, Zarno, call out the damages and casualties, Braca realized that he was not going to survive this battle—that he would never stand on the bridge as the captain of his own ship. As this realization sunk in, the man that Scorpius and the others had always discounted as a plodding timeserver changed into someone else—a man whom former Peacekeepers would always speak of in awe. As his eyes took in his bridge crew—everyone who was able still at their station, he smiled a last, sad smile. No matter what happened—no matter which of the great Empires won this battle—the result would be the same for the Peacekeepers—their whole way of life—everything they ever were—would die today.
Standing tall and straightening his shoulders, he spoke, “My comrades! Even though our time might be ended, we can still leave one last monument of who and what we were!” Then, pointing at the Merseian cruiser, her shields collapsing under the Terran onslaught, Braca raised his voice, “We can strike one last blow! We can do something that will cause all those witnessing—Sebacean…Terran…Merseian—to remember and speak of for the rest of their lives. I intend to ram this ship right into the heart of our enemies! Those of you who wish to join me—know that what you do will be remembered forever! Those who wish to leave may do so without recrimination—the escape pods are still active—do so now.” As he looked about the smoking and devastated bridge, Braca smiled. Not a single person left their post. “Very good! Stations! Helm set a course for the Gwendryff—ramming speed!”
On the deck of the Freya, Admiral Lennox watched in admiration as the command carrier closed the distance with the Merseian cruiser. The commander of the already seriously damaged Merseian cruiser, seeing the intent of the Peacekeeper vessel, ordered all available guns and missiles to be brought to bear against the ramming ship. Upon seeing this, the chestnut haired admiral, a tear rolling down her cheek, immediately ordered, “Divert secondary batteries to intercept those Merseian missiles, and continue pouring fire on Gwendryff—let’s clear a pathway for those people!”
Seeing the Terran admiral’s intent, Braca flashed a slight smile of thanks, as the Gwendryff grew larger and larger in his screen. “5 metras…4…3…” As Zarno counted down the distance, and as the carrier shook and groaned under the pounding of the enemy’s fire, the Peacekeeper lieutenant stood at attention, his eyes never wavering from the Merseian cruiser. “2 metras…1 metra…impact!” Zarno shouted as the command carrier collided with its enemy. As metal tore on metal and explosions rocked throughout both ships, Braca laughed, enjoying the irony as his first and last command came to an end in a brilliant explosive flash that lit up the daytime sky of the Royal Planet.
“The Gwendryff and the Peacekeeper command carrier have been destroyed, Ma’am.” The Freya’s tactical officer reported in a somber voice. “Achilles is badly damaged and has taken heavy casualties, and Hector has been destroyed. The other Merseian vessel has surrendered, and the Peacekeeper vessels have requested permission to join us. Freya and Thor have both taken serious damage and casualties, but are still capable of sustained operations.”
“Very good.” The Terran admiral said in a soft voice, “Call in the assault transports to assist in rescue operations and have Thor send a prize crew to the Merseian vessel and send liaison officers to the Peacekeeper vessels that have turned coat. Then have Thor join us in carrying out suppression bombardment against the planetary defenses that are still left.”
****************************
As Aeryn and Flandry made their way down into the lower levels of the palace, they felt, rather than heard, the explosions that rocked the Palace and the area around it. “Sounds like the cavalry’s come.” Flandry said in a low voice, and then, hearing voices, held up his hand. Peeking around the corner, he noticed several Merseian guards, positioned behind hastily thrown up barricades, the bodies of Peacekeepers lying on the floor in front of them. Signaling to his companion his intent, Aeryn immediately fired her pulse rifle as Flandry fired his blaster as he dived to the floor behind one of the bodies, using it as cover. Two of the guards ran away howling with pain as the hot plasma from Flandry’s blaster scorched their skin while two other guards fell to Aeryn’s accurate marksmanship.
“If we have to fight our way down every corridor…” Aeryn grimaced, “We’ll never make it to John on time.
“Well…I’m open to suggestions.” Flandry replied as he got up from the floor.
“I have one!” The familiar voice of Rygel called out from a grating on the corridor wall near the Merseian barricades.
Approaching the cowering Hynerian, Flandry grinned wryly. “Well…look who the cat dragged in!”
“Do you want my help or not!” The offended Dominar harrumphed.
“Thank you, Rygel.” Aeryn quickly interjected, her desire to be reunited with John at this point much stronger than her hatred of the annoying Hynerian.
“Humph! You’re welcome.” The former ruler of the Hynerian Empire grinned in self-satisfaction as Flandry removed the grate, revealing a crawlspace so narrow that they it just barely permitted their passage. “Well…come on! We don’t have all day!” Rygel snorted as he led the way.
**********************
Scorpius, seeing Aycharaych preparing to once again enter John’s mind, and hearing the reports of the ferocious battle, carefully weighed his options. On the one hand, he was so close to finally gaining the knowledge of wormhole technology that he had sought. Through the chip that he had embedded in Crichton’s cerebral cortex a cycle ago, he could feel just how close he was. Even with the Delvian’s accursed interference, victory was near at hand. But on the other hand, there were the reports that he was receiving of the battle. Braca—of all people—staid, conservative, plodding Braca—had betrayed him! The sounds of weapons fire now raged throughout the Palace as the Peacekeeper troopers, now being joined by Terran Marines, battled the Merseians. The leather-clad half-Scarran knew that he had to choose—and quickly—whether to stay in the hope that Crichton could be soon broken, or to try to make his escape now—while a way was still open. As someone who always took the long view, Scorpius, deciding that there was always tomorrow, quietly slipped out of the interrogation room as the Merseian technician once again activated the probe and once again Crichton screamed.
************************
As John saw Scorpius and Aycharaych appear in the doorway of his room, he snarled his rage, “Ok, Scorpy…it’s time to end this once and for all!” Then, with a scream of anger, the human threw himself at the leather-clad image, grasping for his throat. The Scorpius simulacrum, taken aback by the ferocity of the human’s charge, was momentarily stunned. However, recovering quickly, he broke Crichton’s vice-like grip around his throat, and picking up the human as he would a rag doll, threw him across the room.
John, refusing to accept defeat, got up, and picking up the baseball bat that lay next to the bed, charged his foe once again, swinging fiercely with the Louisville Slugger and shouting, “C’mon, Scorpy! I wanna redo that scene from ‘Scarface’—you know—the one where Capone brains his flunky with a bat—c’mon, let’s do it! It’s the bottom of the ninth, two out, the counts three balls and two strikes, and John Crichton’s up to bat!”
While John and Scorpius were locked in their violent death struggle, a quieter, yet no less lethal and violent, duel was taking place at the same time between Aycharaych and Zhaan.
“My complements.” The Cherionite smiled approvingly, “Your psionic discipline is quite well developed.”
“As is yours.” The Delvian Pau answered as she fended off the telepath’s psionic assault, retaliating with one of her own.
“However, my dear, you must know that in the end you will lose.” The Cherionite telepath said ruefully as he redoubled his assault, forcing the Delvian mystic to step back.
A tear rolling down her cheek, Zhaan, refusing to accept defeat, retorted, “As John would say—it’s not over ‘til it’s over!”
“Ya hear that Scorpy!” John cackled as he struck his leather-clad tormentor in the side with his bat. “It ain’t over yet! You’re in my mind—you refugee from a B & D shop! I set the rules here! You gotta dance to my tune!”
“Not quite John!” The Scorpius image shouted back as he wrenched the bat from John’s grasp. Then, taking the makeshift club, he swung back and shattered a picture—one of the older pictures in the gallery, one of his first memories—of John, three years old, being held by his mother. “Now this one!” The half-Scarran raged as he swung at yet another picture, shattering it—this one of John with an attractive girl, his first teenage romance. “If you don’t give up now—I’ll shatter every one of your memories!” He then began shattering still more pictures—all pieces of John’s life.
Feeling the holes appearing in his mind, John howled his rage as he saw the Scorpius image preparing to smash the picture of him and Aeryn, and, flinging himself once again on his tormentor, he forced him to the floor. As both combatants began to roll, each one trying to gain position on the other, Crichton snarled, “Get the hell outta my mind you bastard!”
“Don’t…forget…John…” Zhaan, reeling from the intense telepathic assault of Aycharaych, groaned as she fell to her knees, “This…is…still…your mind. You…set…the terms…of the battle…” With that, Zhaan finally succumbed to the massive assault of the more experienced telepath.
As John saw his companion’s image flicker and disappear, her words sunk in. Seeing his leather clad tormentor lying beneath him, the human willing it to be there, smiled as he saw a .45 automatic appear in his hands. His lips curling up into a sneer, John spat out as he pointed the barrel at the half-Scarran’s head and pulled the trigger, “Say goodnight, Scorpy!” Then, as the bullet pierced the leather-clad Scorpius’ head, shattering it, John heard a howl, and then nothing as the chip inside his mind died, freeing him once and for all from its torment.
Slowly standing up, John brushed himself off as he regarded the Cherionite standing before him, “Well, Aychie…I guess it’s just you and me now.”
************************
As she slowly regained consciousness, Zhaan woke up to see Alana, Jenavia, and an unidentified human wearing on his arm the red cross that she had learned to associate with human healers. “Lie back Ma’am.” The soft-spoken human voice, with just the hint of a drawl, directed as he cradled her head. “I thought for a moment we had lost you.”
“John?” The Delvian Pau asked in a weak voice.
“We don’t know.” Alana replied raggedly, “The Marines and the Pleisars are pushing their way down, but it’s hard fighting. I guess it’s up to Dominic and Aeryn.”
**********************
Coming out of the hidden passage, Aeryn, scouting around the bend in the corridor, signaled for Flandry to join her. Looking, they saw four Merseians standing guard outside a door. “That must be where they’re holding him.” Aeryn grimaced as she checked the charges to her pulse rifle. “No way to flank them. No way to them except straight ahead.”
“Yup.” Flandry answered back as he set his blaster to wide dispersal. “We go in the front and we go in hard. Ready?”
“Of course.” Aeryn flashed a grin, “On three?”
Nodding his head, Flandry smiled, “Three!”
Yelling, human and Sebacean charged right into the Merseians, Flandry taking the lead so as to not catch Aeryn in his blaster’s field of fire. Firing his blaster, the Terran grinned as he saw one of the Merseians take the full force of the blast. Aeryn, screaming a war cry of her own and firing her pulse rifle as rapidly as possible, hit another of the guards, smiling in satisfaction as his head exploded. Then, as they closed with their surviving opponents, both took out large, wicked looking Merseian war knives and brandishing them, leaped upon their prey.
Slashing their opponents’ throats after a short, but brutal struggle, they forced open the door. All color left Aeryn’s face as she saw John lying on the gurney, an IV hookup feeding nourishment to him, a Merseian standing behind a console, while an avian figure with golden skin that the Sebacean had recognized as being Flandry’s nemesis, Aycharaych stood next to John, apparently unaware of what was happening within the room.
Having picked up Aeryn’s pulse rifle, Flandry, seeing Aeryn frozen in place, took the weapon and fired it at the technician who was, at that moment, preparing to shoot the Sebacean woman with a blaster. “Aeryn!” Flandry barked as he slapped his former lover on the face, “Snap out of it! Get Aycharaych outta John’s mind—but don’t kill him unless you have to! I’ll take care of the probe! Move it, Lieutenant!”
Flandry’s slap and use of her military rank quickly bringing the Sebacean warrior around, she moved to the side of the Cherionite, and sticking the Merseian warblade, still dripping with blood into the side of the Merseian agent, rasped, “Get out of John’s mind, NOW…you piece of dren—or I’ll kill you where you stand!” As Aeryn finished her words, Terran marines, joined by a couple of Pleisars, stormed into the interrogation chamber.
“It’s over Aycharaych.” Flandry added as he gradually lowered the power of the hypnoprobe, taking great care not to do anything to risk John’s mind and sanity.
“I see that is, Sir Dominic.” The Cherionite smiled. “My congratulations on a game well played.” He then bowed. “And this must be the radiant Aeryn Sun?” The Merseian spymaster grinned as he turned towards the woman standing beside him, the point of her knife still at his side. “My compliments to you also, Madam.” Then, turning his attention back to his old antagonist, Aycharaych trilled, “And now for the formalities—under the terms of the Covenant of Alfzar…”
“You are claiming diplomatic immunity…ad infinitum ad nauseum.” Flandry finished, flashing a wry grin as he motioned to a couple of Marines. “These men will escort you to your new quarters pending the ending of hostilities.”
As the simulacra of Aycharaych flickered, John wondered what was going on. “I’m afraid I must concede this round to you.” The Cherionite grinned. “But I’m sure we will meet again at some future date.”
Then, as the Marines took charge of their prisoner, Aeryn freeing John from his restraints, took his hand in hers as she rested her head on his chest. “You’re free now, John…” The ex-Peacekeeper crooned, “I’m here and I’m never going to leave you again.”
As the tormented human’s eyes flickered open, seeing the form of his beloved, he smiled wanly, “Hey, Sunshine…that sounds an awful lot like a marriage proposal to me…”
“I guess it is.” Aeryn, smiling through her tears, chuckled as she gently brushed back the brown hair of the man that she had fallen hopelessly in love with. “So…what is your answer?”
Before slipping once again into blessed unconsciousness, John smiled warmly, “Yes.”
**********************
With the capture of Aycharaych, Merseian resistance slowly ebbed, until, with the arrival of the Van Rijn and the rest of Lennox’s forces, it ceased completely. Returning in triumph to the royal palace, both Katralla and Tyno, waving to the throngs of cheering onlookers and seeing both the red and black banners of the Peacekeepers and the green banners of the Merseians being torn down smiled. Then, seeing in the front of the doorway of the office that Admiral Lennox had temporarily requisitioned, the flag with dark blue field and golden sunburst of the Terran Empire, a tear rolled down her cheeks. “What’s wrong, my love?” Tyno asked as he placed a protective arm around her shoulders.
“I fear, dear Tyno…” Katralla cried, “That all we have done is exchange a demanding overlord for a somewhat less demanding one.”
“I know, my love…” Tyno consoled, “But what choice did we have?”
Then, as they entered the office, both were taken aback as they regarded the woman sitting behind the desk. Her hair…her eyes…her face…all reminded the Empress of the father of her unborn child. The admiral, standing up, smiled at the newly restored Empress and Regent. “Your Majesties.” Admiral Lennox cleared her throat. “Please allow me to introduce myself—I am Rear Admiral Melissa Lennox, Imperial Terran Navy. I believe that you already know the Marquessa Centaurus, the lady Jenavia, and Captain Flandry.” Both regal figures nodded their heads as Flandry bowed and Alana and Jenavia curtsied. “Please allow me to apologize for any inconvenience while we are still here. I assure you that our military occupation will only be temporary, and that as soon as civil and police functions are restored, we will turn those over to you.”
“Thank you, Admiral.” The Empress bowed her head in gratitude. “If I might ask, how are John Crichton and the others doing?”
Turning to Flandry, Admiral Lennox smiled, “I’ll let Sir Dominic answer that.”
“Thank you, Admiral.” Although Flandry had shared the admiral’s bed on more than one occasion, he knew that there was a time to be irreverent and a time to play it straight. “John’s recovering nicely. It seems he has a permanent nurse in Aeryn…she hasn’t left his side for more than five minutes at a stretch. The docs say that he should be on his feet and fit for duty in a couple of days—he really does have remarkable reserves of will. You know, he never once gave up hope—he kept fighting the entire time he was under that probe. Zhaan has completely recovered and tells us that she thinks she can help John restore his lost memories in fairly short order. As for Rygel…” Flandry tried, but failed to repress a snort as Alana playfully hit him in the side, “He’s recovering from a rather nasty knot on his head that came about when a certain noblewoman who shall remain nameless backhanded him clear across the room.”
“And what will become of us?” Katralla asked, getting immediately to the point.
“I’m afraid that’s up to the bureaucrats and the diplomats to decide.” Admiral Lennox answered, directly and sympathetically. “But as I see it, your positions should be secure. If your worlds are directly annexed into the Empire, you’ll probably be given Imperial titles and your systems regranted to you as fiefs. With the exception of only a few things, life will go on pretty much as it always has for you and your people. And—I think you’ll find that your people will enjoy greater benefits through increased trade and opportunities. The little freedom you lose will be more than made up to you and your people through the increased prosperity you’ll enjoy.” Then, clearing her throat once again, the Terran admiral smiled warmly, “But now…Your Majesties…I’m sure that you have a million and one things that you have to deal with…and I must get ready for the arrival of Admiral Mackenzie-Faulkes—she’s planning…with your permission of course…on using this system as a base of operations for the rest of our campaigns in the Uncharted Territories.”
*******************************
“Hey, Sunshine!” John grinned from his bed as he sat up and regarded the blazing radiance of the raven-haired woman standing in the doorway. “C’mon in!” He leered as he pulled aside the covers, and sliding over, made room for her next to him.
“Are you sure you’re strong enough?” Aeryn smirked as she slipped in next to him, and wrapping her arms around his neck, kissed him first on the forehead, then the nose, and then finally on the lips. First, a soft gentle kiss, then deepening it as her passion grew.
Responding hungrily to her kisses, John grinned wickedly as he unbuttoned her top, “I think I can rise to the occasion, darlin’”
Snuggling up even closer to her love, Aeryn leered back as she caressed his cheeks, “I see that you have…”
Turning quickly at the sound of a throat clearing, both Aeryn and John tried to hide their embarrassment as they saw both Alana and Flandry standing at the door. “Don’t stop on our account.” The lovely oriental woman chuckled merrily.
“We won’t be here long.” Flandry laughed as he regarded the half dressed form of his former lover. “We’ve just come to give you your new marching orders.” Then, taking on an air of authority that Aeryn immediately recognized was intended to be sarcastic, Flandry read the orders. “Lieutenant Commander John Crichton and Lieutenant Aeryn Sun. You are hereby assigned to INS Victory as liaison and intelligence officers working under Captain Sir Dominic Flandry—that’s me.” Flandry flashed a wry grin and then continued, “Upon completion of this assignment, you are to be granted a furlough lasting no less than six Terran months.” Smiling beatifically, Flandry finished warmly. “The Victory will be here in a couple of days. I don’t think this war’s gonna last much longer than a month or so, and six months should give you plenty of time for a honeymoon.”
“Yeah.” Alana took over smoothly, “And when you do tie the knot, Dominic and I have some wedding presents for you.”
“Ok…” Flandry chuckled as he saw the looks John and Aeryn gave each other as Alana mentioned their coming wedding. “We’ll leave you two lovebirds alone for now.” Then, cocking a sardonic grin, Flandry left the couple with one last parting remark, “And Aeryn…don’t bruise him!”
“Get out of here!” Aeryn laughed as she tossed a pillow at her old lover. “You…you…you know what you are!”
Laughing even louder, Flandry called back over his shoulder as he left, “Be good you two!”
“So…” John chuckled as he fondled Aeryn under the sheets. “Should we be good?”
Smirking as she reached under the sheets to play, Aeryn grinned, “What do you think?”
*********************************************************************
EPILOGUE
‘Flandry was right.’ John thought as he stood next to his fiancé on the deck of the Victory, now orbiting the Royal Planet with the rest of her task force. ‘The Peacekeeper High Command surrendered right after we dropped the first asteroid on them. Of course the fact that their Merseian allies had suddenly taken over half their systems as well as the Luxan homeworld probably had something to do with it too. And now we’re back here again…to attend a peace conference that will supposedly settle the borders here once and for all…”
“Hey…” Aeryn smiled as she looked into the eyes of the man she loved.
“Hey…” John answered back, remembering their old code.
“Hey…” Aeryn trumped, with a small laugh.
Knowing when he was beaten, John joined her in gentle laughter before speaking, “I was just thinking, Aeryn…how quickly things have changed…”
“I think I know what you mean, John.” Aeryn replied, her laughter vanishing as well. “Events have moved awfully quickly.” Then, a lump formed in her throat as she forced herself to confront her fears, “John…you’re not regretting our planned joining…are you?”
Seeing the look of fear in the blue eyes of his lover, John’s heart skipped a beat. “No, Aeryn.” The rugged ex-astronaut sighed as he embraced the woman he loved. “That’s one decision I will never regret. I just wanna hurry up and do it!”
“So do I, John.” Aeryn sighed also as she melted in his arms.
The couple stayed that way for several moments, the rest of the bridge personnel giving them their privacy, until the sound of a throat clearing forced the two lovers to break their embrace. “I’m sorry…” The yeoman apologized, “But Admiral Mackenzie-Faulkes sent me to inform you that the shuttle is ready to depart for the surface and that your presence is requested.”
“Thank you, yeoman.” John answered, speaking in a crisp authoritarian tone that he had learned to adopt thanks to his time on the warship, “Please inform the Admiral that we are on our way.”
After the yeoman had departed, John took the opportunity to snatch a quick kiss from his fiancé, “Well, love…shall we go.”
****************************
The peace conference, mediated by the Ythrians, and chaired by Katralla and Tyno, consisted of the Terrans, represented by Chunderban Desai, the Merseians, the Nebari, the Plokhavians, and the Scarrans. As the diplomats harangued and bickered amongst themselves over territorial and trade concessions and spheres of influence, Flandry, Jenavia, John, Aeryn, Zhaan, and Rygel sat outside talking quietly amongst themselves. Flandry, lighting a cigarette, handed it to Jenavia, who taking it, smiled her gratitude. Then, lighting another one, the Terran agent flashed an evil grin as he inhaled. “You know—I don’t know what scares me more—war or diplomats trying to put an end to a war.”
“I think I understand what you mean.” Aeryn replied.
“Why?” John asked, genuinely confused. “I’d think anything’s better than the fighting we’ve just been through.”
“Oh…you’re right, John.” Flandry quickly interjected. “When massdrivers and beam weapons have the capability of laying waste to the entire surfaces of inhabited worlds, I prefer that things move nice and slowly.” Then, taking a deep drag from his cigarette, he exhaled a steady stream of smoke. “The problem is, in many cases, these conferences don’t address the root causes of conflicts so much as sweep them under the rug…where they sit festering until they come up again even nastier.”
Remembering his high school and college history classes, John reluctantly nodded his head, “I understand…but I hope this time you’re wrong, Dominic.”
Changing the topic, Flandry flashed another evil grin as he regarded John and his Sebacean lover, “So…have you two set a date yet?”
“As a matter of fact…we have.” John smiled as Aeryn wrapped her arm around his waste. “We just need to talk to the Admiral first.”
“Well…congratulations!” The Terran agent beamed as he pumped John’s hand and then kissed Aeryn on the cheek.
The conversation then quickly degenerated to small talk until the diplomats finally emerged from the chamber—the Terrans smiling through their fatigue, the Merseian maintaining a poker face. Flandry, expert that he was in reading non-human body language, whispered to his lover, Jenavia, “Don’t let that look on his face fool you, Jena—the Merseians came out pretty good in this…” Then, the Terran agent noticed the frowns on both the Nebari and Scarran diplomats, “Those two…on the other hand…just got bent over backwards.” Then, as he noticed the expression on the Plokhavian diplomat’s face, Flandry chuckled, “And as for him…they didn’t even bother kissing him first!”
Desai, Admiral Mackenzie-Faulkes, and Alana, seeing the little group gathered together, approached. Desai, gratefully picking up a cup of coffee, let out a sigh of relief. “It’s all over now…all that is left is the formal signing.”
“So…how did it go?” John asked as he fetched coffees for both him and Aeryn.
“Pretty much as we expected.” Alana replied, managing a weak smile as she sipped her fruit juice. “The Peacekeeper domains are going to be partitioned between the Empire and the Merseians. The portion falling under our control is to be directly annexed into the Empire. Sebacea will be the new sector capital here, and Chunderban and the Admiral will both serve as temporary governors until the Policy Board can appoint an official.” Craving a cigarette, the Terran aristocrat settled instead for a second glass of juice. “Delvia has agreed to client status, while the Royal systems have been granted alliance status. In exchange, the Empire will officially recognize Merseian control over the Luxan homeworld and over the Hynerian realms.”
Before Rygel could protest, Desai smoothly took over. “There was no choice. The Merseians were already there in force.” Then, lowering his voice so that only they could hear, the Terran diplomat continued, “Now…that doesn’t mean that we’re not going to sponsor covert operations—as long as the Empire keeps plausible deniability, of course.”
Nodding his head sagely, Rygel kept his peace. He would find the means, by hook or crook, to free his people.
“And as for the Nebari and Scarrans…” Mackenzie-Faulkes then took over, “Their systems will be placed under close watch. Nebari—other than Chiana, who’s already been cleared, and all Scarrans traveling into Imperial, Domain, or Roidhunate space will have to undergo physical examinations and careful inspection of persons, ships, and cargoes. They’re not happy about it, but we’ve made it quite clear what would happen to them should they provoke us.” Then, after taking a sip of coffee, the Terran admiral continued, “We’ve also informed the Plokhavians that they are to immediately cease all weapons sales within the Uncharted Territories and to permit inspectors from all three Empires on to their homeworld. Should they fail to do so, we told them that all three of us would each send a fleet to blast their homeworld back into the Stone Age. Either they comply—or we put Plokhavians on the endangered species list!” Mackenzie-Faulkes finished with a grim tone.
Everyone stood quiet for several moments as the enormous impact of what the prim Terran admiral had just said settled in. Then, in an effort to lighten the conversation, Alana, grinning wickedly at John and Aeryn, asked, “So…when are you gonna make an honest man outta him, Aeryn?”
Speaking before his fiancé, John stammered as he addressed the stern admiral, “Ummmm…Admiral…that’s sorta what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Oh…” The stern disciplinarian known as Ms. Manners fixed her subordinate with her steely gaze, her eyes twinkling in amusement, “Well, then, Lieutenant Commander…what do you want to say? Come on…spit it out, man!”
As Flandry, Alana, and Jenavia tried courageously to hide their smirks, John seeing the playful look in his superior’s eyes, addressed the amused admiral, “I was wondering, Ma’am, whether an old naval tradition still existed…”
“And what tradition would that be, Lieutenant Commander?” Mackenzie-Faulkes, no longer bothering to hide her grin, asked.
“Ummmm…can the captain of a ship still perform weddings?”
“I think that can be arranged, Lieutenant Commander.” The admiral smiled warmly, “And I think I know exactly where to hold the ceremony.” Then, she spoke into her comm. unit. “Ponsonby…I want it entered on the records that I am temporarily transferring my flag to Moya—I have a wedding to officiate.”
************************************
The wedding, as both John and Aeryn wished, was a simple one—held on Moya’s Terrace—the only attendees being their old friends, with the notable exception of D’Argo who at this moment sat alone in a council chamber on Lux…awaiting the instructions of his Merseian overlords, and Chiana, who was currently, as far as everyone knew, still back on Terra; and their new friends—Flandry, Alana, Jenavia, and Desai attending while Katralla and Tyno watched from their throne room on the surface. As Pilot watched curiously from the clamshell, Admiral Mackenzie-Faulkes conducted the service. Then, she said the words that made John and Aeryn man and wife and they kissed, their friends either applauding or smiling warmly on the newly married couple.
After they broke from their kiss, Flandry, Alana, and Jenavia were the first to approach the newlyweds. Flandry, smiling, claimed the right to kiss the bride. Kissing her on the cheek, he smiled, “Ok, guys…here’s my wedding present—the Hooligan’s yours for your trip back to Terra—Chives’ll see to all your needs—enjoy yourselves.” Then, bending over, he whispered in Aeryn’s ear, “I’ve chosen something special for you to wear tonight—please accept it with my complements.”
“Thanks, Dominic.” Aeryn smiled back as she kissed her former lover on the cheek, and then flashed a wicked grin. “If it’s what I think it is—I think John’ll love it.”
“And you…John…” Alana smiled warmly as she regarded her former lover and father of her unborn child, “You’re a lucky man.” She then kissed him on the cheek and slipped a crystal in his hand. “Give this to the steward in charge of my villa on the Riviera—I want you to stay there for your honeymoon—please—it’s my gift to both of you.”
“Thanks, Alana…” John stammered, “I don’t know what to say…”
“Just say yes.” Alana smiled back as both John and Aeryn hugged her and then kissed her on the cheek.
Then, clearing her throat to get the newly married couple’s attention, the admiral gave them her sternest gaze. “Right, Lieutenant Commander Crichton, Lieutenant Sun—you’re both on furlough for six months. Get out of here and enjoy yourselves!”
“Yes Ma’am!” Both John and Aeryn said in unison as they kissed and then ran out of the Terrace hand in hand to the hangar bay where Pilot had already prepared the transport pod that would take them to the Hooligan.
**************************************
As the swift yacht made its way back to Terra, the Shalmuan who was Flandry’s personal chef, pilot, butler, and bodyguard, had once again outdone himself in the kitchen—preparing a feast fit for the Imperial Court—the choice of wines was ideal, and the fragrance of the coffee hung in the air, going wonderfully with the Strauss waltz that played in the background. Aeryn once again wore the wine-red dress that Flandry had chosen for her so long ago, but this time, she was wearing it for the man she loved. Once again, she danced before the stars, and once again she looked into the eyes of the man holding her—now her husband. And, closing her eyes as she felt his lips drawing closer to him, she sighed as he kissed her.
Now, John stretched out on the comfortable queen sized bed that was the largest and most important piece of furniture in the luxuriously appointed quarters that Chives had said would be theirs during their journey back to Terra, sighed in contentment. Then, Aeryn entered the room, wearing a semi-sheer black chemise. As she gazed fondly at her husband, Aeryn smiled, “I’ll be there in a microt, John. I just want to brush and scent my hair first—I remember how much you like it.”
“Take your time, honey.” John smiled back, “I’ll just sit back and enjoy the view.” Then, as Aeryn brushed her hair and applied the drops of perfume to it that John loved so much, it suddenly hit him as it dawned on the former astronaut that he would be seeing this scene every night for the rest of his life. He was now committed to this woman—for better or worse—for richer…for poorer—in sickness and in health—until death did them part. As this realization sunk in, John smiled. For the first time in years, he was really and truly happy.
***************************
As Alana stood on the observation deck of the Empress Theodora, sipping her fruit nectar and lost in her thoughts, her colleague and occasional lover, Dominic Flandry, accompanied by his current lover, Jenavia Chatto approached. “I hope we haven’t caught you at a bad time, dear.” Flandry gently intruded.
“Oh, no!” Alana smiled back. “I was just thinking—about what sort of universe I’m gonna leave this little one with.” She then gently patted her abdomen that was now just beginning to show.
“Well…we’re fighting the good fight—in the end…that’s all any of us can do.” Flandry said softly as he lit a cigarette.
“Dominic’s right.” Jenavia added. “All we can do is do what we can—and let the rest take care of itself.”
“Jena’s right, love.” Flandry said, and then, cocking a wicked grin, propositioned, “We’re turning in for the evening—wanna join us?”
As she took one last look at the starry night, imagining that somewhere John and Aeryn were enjoying each other’s love, Alana smiled. “Sure…why not!”
A FEW MONTHS LATER—THE FRENCH RIVERIA—CAP D’ ANTIBES
“You sure it’s not too hot for you, hon?” John asked solicitously as he lay beside his wife on the private beach of the Marquessa’s villa on the Cap d’Antibes.
“I’m fine, John.” Aeryn smiled back, “It’s not that hot out, and as long as I don’t stay out too long and come into the shade on occasion, I should be alright. Now what was it you were telling me about this human custom of…skinny dipping?”
“Here’s how it works, Sunshine…” John leered as he untied first Aeryn’s bikini top, and then her bottom.
“Oh…” The Sebacean beauty licked her lips as she pulled down on her husband’s swim trunks, “Like this, huh?”
“I think you’ve got the idea.” John chuckled as he gathered his wife into his arms. “How’s about we wait a while before going into the water…Huh?”
“Mmmmhmmm…” Aeryn purred as she kissed the man who had once told her that she could be more.
As the couple lay on the beach enjoying each other’s company, they didn’t hear the footsteps rapidly approaching nor did they hear the voice calling out to them until Chiana and her companion were almost on top of them. “John! Aeryn!”
Looking up, John and Aeryn immediately recognized the gray skinned Nebari and her human lover and dance partner, Diana. As they scrambled to put on their scattered clothing, John sputtered, “Hell…Chiana…why didn’t you call first! What the hell’s going on?”
“John…” Chiana cried out as both her and her lover’s eyes reflected their panic. “We need you and Aeryn’s help. We got into…a really big mess.”
“What kind of a mess?” John asked suspiciously as he remembered some of the more colorful exploits of his Nebari companion.
“We’ll tell ya all about it, John. But please…don’t believe what anyone else tells you, cause, IT’S NOT OUR FAULT!”
*******************************
IT IS DONE!! Collapsing on my keyboard in relief! I hope everyone has enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Again, feedback is very much appreciated.
Please take a moment to rate the story you just read