Daddy's Girl: 5
By Amy J
"Hello, Pilot."
The greeting was a soft echo in the den. The navigator looked up, but he was not surprised to see her. The DRDs had told of her approach much earlier. The young female was the apparition that had been wandering Moya's hallways for arns. A displaced fragment of sound amongst a chorus that composed the leviathan for him.
"Officer L'Tan Sun." Pilot announced. It was an arched greeting, suspicious. And, obviously, not one she had expected. Her face fell slightly.
L'Tan triggered the door. It slowly shut on its central hinge as she approached his console.
"I guess you would not know me." She muttered to herself. "Not now... not yet."
Pausing at the edge of the catwalk, she peered down into the deep abyss of the chamber. Her voice was weary, surrendering. "I am not an officer. I am no one... nothing."
"Very well... L'Tan Sun." Pilot answered, slightly uncomfortable with the familiar address. This young woman was an oddity indeed. He had never met a prowler pilot, a Peacekeeper for that matter, who did not hold rank. Very curious.
"What do you want?" He ventured. This was not the same fierce creature that he had been told of by the Hynerian Dominar or Chiana.
"I don't want anything." She seemed very lost, defeated. "Can't I just stay here... for a little while?"
He hesitated. "Very well."
In silent amazement, he watched as she climbed onto the console and sat facing him, perfectly at ease, as though she had done this a thousand times before. She hugged her knees to her chest. Her eyes followed the intricate rhythm of his arms as he guided Moya's systems.
"I would sit here and listen to your stories of mother and father...of their lives before I was born." She extended a hand to his claw. A naked pain fell into her voice. "We hid here when they came for us... the Peacekeepers. You were very brave. Very brave to the last."
L'Tan spared a look at the door, as if expecting someone. The visit of old ghosts, perhaps.
Pilot spoke cautiously. "I had hoped to speak to you of this. Moya is anxious to hear if you have any knowledge of the fate of Talyn."
"Of course, Pilot." She answered with a small sad smile. The words meant something much more for her. Her gaze fell inward, engulfed by an impenetrable sadness. "Any mother would want to know the same."
The door swung open, revealing the silhouette of a second visitor.
The young woman collected herself and slid down from the console. It was the behavior of the prisoner receiving her sentence, who had accepted the inevitable ending.
Aeryn Sun strode in; her features set in anger. But it was no match for the smoldering fury that rested in her eyes. She raised a white-knuckled fist. In it rested the shattered remains of the Jocosta's distress beacon, dangling by a frayed cable.
"Is there something you would like to tell me?" Aeryn said, acidly.
**********************************************************************
Vedit Corsair sauntered onto the bridge, and briefly surveyed the scurrying bustle of technicians and other lower ranking officers. The duty shift was not his, not at this early arn. He ignored their surprised acknowledgments as he found his quarry near the nav console, her back to him. Face stern, he slid noiselessly to her side. She did not look up.
"Alya." He said, leaning into her neck in an intimate whisper.
Startled, the blonde stepped back from the console and stood at attention. The smallest smile crept over her mouth as their eyes met. "Lieutenant Corsair."
"As you were, Officer Brin." He said for the benefit of the room.
Alya returned her attention to the console, but granted him a sly sidelong glance. He pressed against her, tracing a single finger over the top of her hand. She drew away, her smile dissolving.
Her hiss was indignant, reproachful. "Don't. They'll see."
"Let them." Corsair whispered, daring her to retreat further. "They are nothing."
"They can still see." Alya returned. She completed her task at the station and drifted into the deeper recesses of the nav center, out of view from the rest of the bridge.
Corsair was at her heels. As soon as they were alone, she turned on him with cool venom. "What do you want, Vedit?"
He smirked at her, not surprised by her challenge. It was the dangerous game they had played since their childhood days at the induction center. Each daring the other past common sense or caution, feeding off of petty jealousies and ambitions. Little had changed since.
"The same as any other first officer... his own command. This carrier would suffice. I want to be free of that frelling hybrid and this pointless chase."
Alya looked nervously about before answering in a terse whisper. "You are the third first officer Scorpius has received in as many cycles. Your position is precarious enough. What you are suggesting is mutinous-"
"Only if it does not work, Alya." He interrupted, tugging at the rank patch of her uniform in a silent insult.
She slapped his hand away, her expression severe. "Start talking. I know you would do this on your own, if you could."
Corsair stepped closer, wrapping his hands over her shoulders. "Scorpius has no rightful place here. His pull with High Command is questionable at best. This opportunity is something I cannot resist."
"What's in it for me?" Her mouth pulled into a dissatisfied bow. The price of getting her hands dirty was going to be high.
His smile broadened. "Ever ambitious, Officer Brin. That's why I was attracted to you... even in the early days."
She folded her arms across her chest. "You didn't answer my question."
"Lieutenant Alya Brin." He teased. "Has a nice sound, doesn't it?"
Her blue eyes remained on his, judging, testing. He could almost hear the battle of ego and judgment in her skull. "I'm listening."
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"Scorpy wouldn't know her if she walked up and bit him on the ass, Aeryn! It doesn't make sense for her to do that." Her father's sarcastic argument continued just beyond the view from the closed gate of her cell.
L'Tan nervously chewed the pad of her thumb. Her face was impassive as she listened; but her heart was an anxious, painful knot. Occasionally, she caught a glimpse of one of them, pacing, arms thrown out in irate gestures. Their long shadows mingled in an angry dance on the floor.
"Crichton, it is a distress beacon." Her mother returned bitterly. "They are programmed to transmit coordinates. It was probably transmitting ours."
"You don't know that!"
An errant wave of a hand.
"I only know it was activated. The damage is too severe-"
Pace. Turn."So you just lock her up? No questions asked?"
Pursue. Pause."She has refused to answer me."
A step back. "Did you try beating it out of her? That's an old stand-by."
An accusatory gesture.
"This bickering is not helping." Zhaan inserted herself into the clash. "Have either of you considered the possibility of another explanation? Why was the beacon disabled so violently to begin with?"
Explanations?
They did not matter.
Not now.
It was much too late. The universe had moved ahead like some great and secret machine. L'Tan had set its hideous purpose into motion and was now powerless to stop it.
"Frell an explanation!" The Hynerian interjected. "Get the bitch and that blasted prowler of hers off of Moya right now. If she wants Scorpius, she can have him, rotten teeth and all."
The Nebari rejoined the conflict. "Toad's right-"
"John." D'Argo's deep voice cut her off. "What Chiana and Rygel are trying to say-"
"Everybody just shut up!" Her father commanded.
This only served to provoke another barrage of insults and observations from his shipmates. Their voices collided in a renewed maelstrom.
Silently, she rose and approached to the gate, her throat tightening. Fear of facing her father consumed her.
"It's too late." L'Tan croaked.
They fell silent, regarding her in mingling degrees of suspicion.
John turned on her.
"What do you mean?" He asked, studying her face.
But she could not meet his eyes. L'Tan Sun who had been ward of a madman, and celebrated in the deaths of worlds, knew only shame and guilt under her father's gaze.
"Ellie, look at me." John reached through the bars and brought her chin up. "What does that mean?"
She backed away, her eyes great pools of pain.
A crushed disappointment claimed his expression as the truth dawned. "No. No. You didn't-"
"Your attention!" Pilot's transmission broke in, full of panic. "Moya's long range sensors have detected a Peacekeeper vessel, closing in our position."
Aeryn gave John a smug nod of satisfaction; her suspicions had been proven right. "Pilot, get us out of here." She ordered. "Starburst now."
"There is a problem, Officer Sun. Moya's calorics cells will not retain a charge."
"What's wrong, Pilot?" She stepped forward, addressing the air.
"We cannot starburst."
***********************************************************************
"This is going to be easier than I thought." Corsair looked up from the vid screen, his mouth pulled into a satisfied smirk. He turned to Alya. "Does anyone know you have this?"
"No, of course not." She kept rechecking the doorway. It was a compulsion. "That vapid ornament Scorpius has for an attendant would not miss it."
He stood, his hands clasped behind his back. For a moment, he was alone with his future, watching it play out before him with infinite promise. "Scorpius must be desperate indeed to dare such a transgression. And fortunately, it's worked to my advantage."
"Our advantage." Alya corrected. Her blue eyes narrowed on him.
Corsair brushed the high arch of her cheekbone. "Of course. Our advantage."
She pulled away. "Just so we understand each other..."
"First things first." He made a placating gesture with his hand. "I need a secure channel to my contact in High Command. A secure channel. Can you manage that for me?"
Alya did not answer immediately. She circled him, her eyes unreadable. "You promised. A full promotion."
"Of course, pet." He tucked the vid chip into his jacket and strode toward the door.
She blocked his path. The expression on her face did not change. He felt the unease gather along his spine. Alya could be a pit viper, if she wanted. She was making sure he got the point.
"Has the leviathan moved?" He sought to divert her attention.
"No." Alya slowly relented. "Early scans indicated that its starburst is not functioning."
"Time to intercept her?"
"Fifty-eight microns." Her answer was swift. "Scorpius ordered a full complement of prowlers and marauders to be prepared for an intercept with the vessel."
"I'm aware. I will stall them." Corsair returned.
It was his turn to feel suspicion. How did she know?
But there was little time for second-guessing. Timing was everything if he were to gain command and receive credit for capturing the leviathan.
"Full rank promotion." Alya asserted to his receding back.
He waved a dismissive hand over his shoulder. "Of course, pet."
***********************************************************************
L'Tan leaned against the threshold, watching the Nebari pace the hallway before her cell, pulse rifle balanced across her bony hip.
"We should take this chance and get the frell out of here." China's full attention was focused on the Hynerian. "While we still have our heads."
"And go where, Chiana?" Rygel watched her pace from his throne. "This patch of space is dead. Nothing around for millions of metras."
"There has to be somewhere we can go." She shot a venomous glance at L'Tan. "I'm not going to just stay here to die."
"Desert your shipmates." L'Tan taunted. "How refreshing. How very noble of you, Nebari."
" Frell off!" Chiana barked.
"No... I've got a better proposition." She said, dryly. L'Tan unfolded from the wall and wound her fingers through the bars. "Let me out."
Chiana stopped, head tilted. Her voice was rich with sarcasm. "Of course, right away."
"I can help you. I can help all of you to escape."
"Of course you will." The discussion for her was closed. Right now the Nebari had the more immediate concern of saving her own hide.
"I can undo what I've done. I demand you give me that chance." L'Tan pursued, her aloof facade crumbling slightly.
The closed gate improving his bravado, Rygel hovered closer. "Don't you think you've done enough damage, you little trelk?"
Her green eyes fixed on him. Impossibly quick, she lashed out and fastened onto his collar.
"Let him go!" Chiana yelled.
L'Tan ignored the command. She spoke quickly, feeling the pulse rifle trained on her in the quaking hands of the Nebari.
"I can make it worth your while, Dominar. Think of it. You have at your disposal knowledge of the future. The wagers you can collect on. The profit."
She released him. And he fell back onto his throne, collecting his robes. But the bait had been taken, she could tell by the greedy twinkle in the Hynerian's eyes.
"What good would that do us if we're dead?" Chiana asked, but she lowered the pulse rifle, intrigued nonetheless.
"Not if I succeed." L'Tan replied, but her gaze remained on Rygel. He was the weaker link.
Chiana's arguments started anew. "I don't-"
"Hold on." Rygel interrupted, raising a pudgy hand. "Let's see what the child has to say."
************************************************************************
John squirmed through the small tunnel on his hands and knees. The wall's spines were sharper here; they grabbed at his shirt, gouging his skin. He could understand why even the DRDs had trouble navigating this section of the leviathan. The passage rose sharply before opening out into a new chamber. Dripping liquid echoed loudly in the small space.
"I think I'm getting close, Pilot."
"You should see the primary calorics cells. They initialize the charge for the remainder." The navigator answered.
He grimaced, making the tight squeeze into the new passage. As he pulled himself up along the incline, his hands splashed down into a puddle of thick iridescent fluid.
"Aw. Yuck! That's just fabulous...." He hissed, shaking the clinging substance from his fingers. "Next time, we send Rygel.
"Pilot, there's a puddle of glowing goop on the floor here. Any idea as to what it is?"
"It is most probably the calorics fluid. It is similar in composition to-"
"I don't want to know." John cut him off.
He squinted into the semi-darkness. The room seemed to breathe in the quivering glow of the fluid. Under less deadly circumstances, the sight would have been quite striking. John trained the penlight on the nearest wall.
"Shit."
A row of the primary cells was punctured. The calorics fluid slowly trickled down to collect in the pool on the floor. The damage, it appeared, had needed a few days to get this far. His hand struck a shape as he shuffled along on his hands and knees. He brought the light down on it. An empty canister from Zhaan's apothecary. It held a distinctive, pungent aroma: clorium. Renewed disappointment and rage married in his chest. He dashed the container to the wall. "Damn it!" Until this moment he had staved off the dread that plagued him. He had held out hope that his daughter was not involved with Moya's distress. That, somehow, this occurrence and the Peacekeeper vessel fast approaching were a luckless coincidence.
"Face it, John. You've been duped." He muttered.
"Commander Crichton." Pilot's voice startled him. "What have you found?"
"It ain't good. The primary cells have been punctured. Leaking like a sieve. There's clorium in here. That's why Moya couldn't feel it. We've got to patch this up. How long do we have before that carrier reaches us, Pilot?"
"Forty-eight microns... twelve microts."
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"Why haven't the prowlers been prepared?" Scorpius asked. His anger, for the moment was diffuse, as the technician manipulated the thermal regulation unit into his cranial harness.
Corsair, staving off a wave of revulsion, turned his back on the sight. A grotesque sound followed, the marriage of metal and flesh.
"I gave you a direct order, lieutenant." The hybrid continued, his voice protracted in a mix of pain and relief.
Keeping the low table between him and his captain, he responded with an arrogant nod. "I do remember this order quite clearly. A full complement. Quite a lot of resources for one floundering leviathan."
A hint of a Scarran growl wove into Scorpius' voice. "I demand an explanation."
Danger sparked, but it only served to invigorate him. Corsair removed the transparency from the fold of his jacket. Lazily, he waved it from hand to hand, the great seal of High Command prominent on its top. He waited, relishing the moment, eager to see the surprise on his face.
"I have different orders from High Command I must attend to first."
A delicious realization filled Scorpius' eyes. He leaned back into the command chair, hands clasped, glaring at his first officer. "Pray continue."
Although the words were forever engraved into his memory, Corsair read from the page. "Salis Mentur, Trelgin. Deceased. A suspect taken into custody and subjected to interrogation under your orders."
"What of it?"
He looked up at the hybrid. "A rather serious transgression of the current non-aggression pact with the Trelgin homeworld. They are an important alliance against the Scarrans. It pained me deeply to bring this information to High Command."
"Corsair, until now, I thought you merely ambitious." Scorpius' deadly gaze did not alter. "Now, I can see you are a fool as well."
"Sir." He returned, derisively. "I cannot tell you what your observation means to me."
A security detail funneled through the door in a sudden fury. Niem stepped between her master and his usurper, a hand on the hilt of her dagger.
Scorpius raised a hand, staying her. "No, my dear. You will have another chance."
Corsair looked from the guards to Scorpius; he was nearly giddy with self-satisfaction. "I am hereby assuming command of this vessel at the orders of High Command."
************************************************************************
John stood in the doorway of L'Tan's room, catching his breath from the sprint from the calorics tunnel. He had chosen this path back to command, to check on her quickly, only to be greeted by the gate standing ajar.
The room, the hallways were empty. Chiana and Rygel were nowhere to be seen.
"And why am I not surprised?" He muttered, stepping inside.
John triggered the com as he looked hurriedly around the small space. "Pilot? L'Tan's not in her cell. Can you find her?"
Pilot responded in a huff. The traitor was a minor concern to him in the face of Moya's current predicament. "I am unable to locate her, Commander. Moya's internal sensors are fluctuating. It could very well be a side effect of the clorium."
"Sparky? Chi?" He tried the com once more.
His inquiries were met with silence.
Something caught his eye. On the low bed rested the battered flag patch and his own tape recorder. Realization filtered through the tide of hurt and betrayal.
Shutting his eyes, he depressed the "play" button.
"My father." His daughter's voice was pale, resolute. "I told you before that I do not belong here. You would know by now that it is too late."
He opened his eyes and took in the room once more, heart quickening.
Something is wrong here. Something is missing.
"I have destroyed so much. I will now try to put things right."
The flight suit. The helmet were gone.
"Do not try to stop me. It's already too late."
He silenced the recording and bolted through the door. "Pilot! Seal off the shuttle bay. Don't let anyone in there."
There was only a responding rattle of static.
"Pilot?"
He did not wait for a response as he turned the corner and raced to the bay.
*********************************************************************
"Ellie! God damn it! Open this door right now!"
Her father's voice was in stereo, issuing from both the com on her jacket and muffled through the thick wall of the maintenance bay door. Her spine stiffened with the precognitive impulse to obey the voice of her father.
" Whatever it is you're planning, you don't have to do this!"
Hands trembling, she grabbed the last of the environmental scrubbers from her mother's prowler and darted back to the Jocosta. She scrambled to the side compartment. The ruined components clattered to the floor in a frenzied staccato as she exchanged them for the new ones.
"Let's talk about it. Don't do this!" The distraught plea continued, unabated. There was a hollow tug in her chest. L'Tan stopped once more, halfway up the side of the Jocosta.
A weakness. A momentary weakness. Nothing more.
There was no time for such frivolities.
She forced her limbs to motion. Sliding down into the cockpit, she donned the occulars.
The flight computer rolled through its familiar protocols. By the benefit of her primed imagination, the prowler's sounds seemed more menacing, as if the ship knew her destructive intent.
She took in a deep breath and activated the engines.
There was no time for a pre-flight check.
There was only time for luck and prayers.
A deep hum began to resonate through the body of the prowler. It thrummed through her bones, wrapping her brain with its numbing harmonics. But it failed to drown out the insistent voice on her com. "There has to be another way. There's always another way. Just answer me."
There was a fierce desperation in the plea that she could not shut out. For a moment, another weak moment, L'Tan hesitated, her hand hovering over the abort sequence controls.
Instead it went to the com.
"I'm sorry... father." She said, simply.
*********************************************************************
The doors parted noiselessly as Alya entered the command chamber. An envious sneer decorated her mouth when she took in the sight of Corsair sprawled in the command chair.
"Making yourself comfortable already... Captain Corsair." She chided. Beneath the simple taunt rested a bitter pool of envy.
With a roguish smile, he beckoned her closer. Alya took his hand and allowed herself to be pulled onto his lap. Slipping his arms around her waist, he pushed his mouth roughly against hers.
"Alya." Corsair whispered into her neck as his hands began to wander. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she pulled him away. Her eyes flickered a warning. "Don't you have other business, Vedit? The leviathan?"
"Frell it." Irritated, he tapped the com panel at the edge of the command chair. "Launch the prowler complement only. Take the leviathan. Live prisoners if possible. If not, no bother." He turned back to her with a lecherous grin. "Where were we, Officer Brin?"
The expression evaporated as she pressed the cold muzzle of the pulse gun to his throat. The whine of its priming mechanism was fatally loud in the cavernous chamber.
"I know that aside from recreating, your attention span is short-lived. So I encourage you to listen to me very carefully." Alya enunciated each word in his ear. Her eyes were cold blue stones.
"Alya..." He swallowed, frozen into place. "What ... are you doing?"
"Nothing personal, Vedit. Scorpius is just a better dealmaker. I have no desire to kill my son's father; you are far too useful. But I need not follow the hybrid's plan to the letter, if you understand me."
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"Pilot! Don't let the external bay doors open!" Crichton called as he rounded the corner into command full tilt.
Aeryn frowned up at him, momentarily parting her concentration from the Zelbinion's scavenged shielding controls. "Crichton, what are you doing?"
He held a silencing hand up to her. "Pilot? You read me?" His attention was divided between the clamshell and the view screen.
"Yes, Commander. I am receiving you." The navigator's holo-image snapped onto the clamshell. "However, I cannot control the outer bay doors. It appears they are being triggered by a remote device of some sort."
"By the new prowler? The Jocosta?" He asked as he furtively worked at the controls, trying the procedure himself. It was no use. "Yes. The vessel is underway, Commander." Pilot answered in growing frustration.
"What about the tractor-beam thing? Can you capture it with the docking web?" He ran an anxious hand through his hair.
"The prowler is already out of range."
Crichton slammed his fist into the console controls. "Frell it!" Aeryn's hand circled his wrist. "What is it? What's happened?"
"She got out. L'Tan took off in the prowler." He answered, still focused on the view screen.
Her mouth pulled into a scowl. For her, the girl had already been dismissed as a traitor. "She has escaped to the carrier then. Why are you-"
He grabbed her shoulders. "Aeryn... she's not going back to the carrier. That's not what she's doing."
"Crichton, I don't care!" She countered, angrily extracting herself from his grasp. "Right now we have more immediate concerns... our lives!"
D'Argo suddenly appeared in the doorway, breathless, covered in more of the calorics fluid. "John, the repairs you made to the primary cells are holding. I believe that they are charging."
Aeryn looked back to the clamshell. "Pilot, is that true? How long before we can starburst?"
"The charge is building." The navigator's relief was edged with fear. "But Moya needs at least another half an arn to be fully prepared for starburst."
She looked at Crichton and D'Argo. "We don't have that much time. The carrier will be upon us by then."
Crichton leaned against the console, his eyes searching the field of stars for the Jocosta. His jaw tightened pensively. "Well, guys, I think someone's gonna buy us that time."