Female Of The Species. Part Threeby Nicola
Cert: PG-13
Disclaimers: See Part One.
Archiving: Sure! But always contact me first!
Summary: Stand by your man…
Sliding blearily down the steps to the transport pod Stark stared back at
Aeryn’s disapproving face.
“I’m no pilot, Aeryn. Empty space I can cope with but gravity…”
“It doesn’t matter,” Aeryn said dismissively, “at least you’re here, so we can put an end to this.”
“Do you know what happened to them?” Stark asked.
“No, I have no idea,” Aeryn replied curtly.
“Well, do you know where they are then?” he questioned hopefully.
Aeryn regarded him incredulously. “No.” She replied shortly, not even bothering to point out the idiocy of his question. If she knew where they were they’d be with her now, wouldn’t they?
“However,” she continued, reaching for the handcuffs in Stark’s hand, “I’ve got a plan.”
“Glad to hear it,” Stark’s voice betrayed his attempt to hide his complete lack of confidence and Aeryn turned away in a huff starting to head towards town, striding quickly back towards the bar where she had arranged her meeting.
“Tell me Stark, can you hear a strange noise?” She regarded him with a half-expectant look, “like a ringing?”
“Yes.” He rubbed his ear uncomfortably. “Yes. He rubbed his ear uncomfortably. “How do you know about it? Can you hear it too? I was wondering about it.”
“No. Strangely you, John and D'argo have all been able to hear it but I can’t. And as for wondering what it is, you can keep wondering,” she growled, “Because I have no idea.”
“Great.” Stark muttered. “Useful.” He sighed hastening to keep up with Aeryn. “So what’s your plan?”
“We’re going to go chat with the mayoress. I think it’s about time I introduced another of Moya’s males to Varala.”* * * *
Awkwardly Pilot shifted his leaden arms relaxing them wearily onto the panel in front of him activating the internal comms; he spoke in a wavering voice.
“Zhaan, Stark has arrived on the planet’s surface and he and Aeryn are continuing with the search for John and D’argo.”
“Thank you Pilot.” Zhaan nodded. “May the goddess give them guidance.” She turned to Chiana her eyes troubled. “First John, now D’argo, I fear there is some evil working on that planet.”
“You and me both.” Chiana heaved a sigh, “but don’t worry Zhaan, Aeryn’ll find them and if she needs your help I know she’ll ask and I also know that you’ll do a great job.” She offered Zhaan a reassuring smile and the Delvian patted the young Nebari’s hand gratefully.
“Thank you dear.” the priestess replied, trying hard not to look worried in front of her young friend.
“No problem,” Chiana beamed pulling away. “Always happy to help.” ‘Which reminds me,’ she thought grimly, ‘There’s someone else who needs my help. Pilot and I need to finish our chat.’ Jogging from command she moved quickly down Moya’s corridors towards Pilot’s chamber, slowing as she neared the door. Stooping, she stepped through slowly, her eyes adjusting to the dim ambience as she approached the weary symbiont.
“Pilot.” She smiled. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.” Lifting his arms he turned his head so she would not see the evasion in his eyes. Climbing up onto the console Chiana peered at Pilot, flicking a strand of hair out of her concerned, dark eyes.
“What’s wrong Pilot?” she laid a gloved hand on his claw. “Are ya sick?”
“I have not contracted any form of virus or sickness.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“It is nothing for you to concern yourself with.”
“So there is a problem.” Discovery gleamed in Chiana’s eyes but Pilot avoided her probing.
“The problem, is that Crichton and D’argo have disappeared. Zhaan must not be distracted from the search.” His head slumped wearily forward.
Realisation slapped Chiana in the face and she jerked her head sharply towards Pilot. “So that’s why you won’t tell me what the problem is. You don’t want Zhaan to be worried when she’s already got a problem to deal with, you said yourself you don’t want to distract her.” ‘Dear selfless Pilot,’ she thought, “Well I’m here Pilot. You can talk to me.”
“There is no problem Chiana.” Pilot gasped angrily.
Chiana’s face flashed concern; Pilot never got angry, “…. “Then why are you so tired? Hmm? Why are you struggling to speak? Your reactions, they’re slower you’re- ”
“I’m just a little low on nutrients, that’s all.” Pilot interrupted hoping his concession would end her involvement in the matter.
“A little?” She eyed him warily. “How much is a little?”
“My nutrient supply from Moya has been partially severed.”
Chiana’s eyes boggled. “What do you mean partially?” She asked nervously. “I mean are you about to keel over on me? ‘Cos you can’t do that, not while Aeryn’s not here anyway, ‘cos I wouldn’t have a clue what to do!”
“I am stable.”
“Good, that’s good.” Chiana nodded looking relieved then her brow creased as another thought occurred to her. “Are you gonna become unstable? How long can you last?”
“I-” Inwardly Pilot groaned. ‘I never should have told her about this, but the situation could get worse...’ “Possibly a solar day before the effects begin to show.”
“They’re already showing!”
“Serious. Before the effects become serious. At the moment I am just suffering mild discomfort.”
“Ok, ok, one day, so what do we do to make it better?”
“The conduit that carries the flow of nutrients has been damaged. It must be due to an impact of some kind, a DRD, a-”
“Rygel!” Chiana growled angrily interrupting Pilot. “I saw him racing around on that throne sled of his, he seemed to be having difficulty controlling it,” a fleeting smile crossed her face, “he was cursing Crichton for not being here to repair it.” Pilot’s head drooped, refocusing Chiana’s attention; she put a hand out to stroke his cheek. “He must have lost control of it and ran it into a wall causing the damage…and then not told anybody. How thoughtful of him.” She frowned then looked reassuringly over at Pilot. “But that’s not a problem now. The DRDs can fix it right?”
“The problem is too big for DRDs alone I am afraid.” Pilot replied, his frustration with himself evident for having to concede this to Chiana and to cause such a problem, especially when she was so obviously tired and in need of sleep.
“Ok then. You tell me where to go and what to do and I’ll do it Pilot.” She smiled confidently. “I’ll sort this out for you. Don’t worry. Just tell me what to do.”
* * * *
Stark glanced around the crowded bar, his hands resting in his lap gripping each other tightly as he leant back in his seat. Turning towards Aeryn he voiced his thoughts.
“Apart from the lack of males - of any species - there does not seem to be anything wrong with this place.”
“And yet two of our male crew members have gone missing - without a trace.
John said this place gave him the creeps. He was right. Something is not right.” Scouring the room she frowned impatiently. “Where is she?” She growled, annoyed.
Stark’s brow furrowed. “Who?”
Aeryn’s eyes settled on the soft brown skin of a youthful girl retired in a darkened corner. “Her.” Leaving Stark she pushed roughly through a haze of velvety dark skins stopping in front of the recessed table. She announced her arrival by setting her drink down on its smooth surface.
“You’re here. Good, so am I.” She sat herself opposite the young native. “Now what do you say we talk?”Stark watched Aeryn go, stuttering after her but failing to prevent her departure. Sighing and shaking his head he returned his attention to his glass, turning around to face the imposing figure of Varala, her dark eyes gleaming in her black skin.
“Are you another of Aeryn Sun’s companions? Another male?” Her eyes narrowed in disapproval as she spoke, a strange glint flickering behind her eyes, something Stark could not understand.
“I am Stark.” He responded sounding much calmer than he felt.
“You are Sebacean?”
“No. I am a Banik.” He watched her face crease as she tried to place the species and then decided to continue. “I see you are wondering about my species. It is perhaps unfamiliar to you. I, unfortunately, come from a slave race.”
“Slave race indeed? Then you are accustomed o manual labour? You must be stronger than you look.” She smiled greedily. Stark shivered, the absence of male company was not having a good effect on this woman at all.
“My strength suffices.” He replied cautiously.
Glancing across at Aeryn, Varala drew her lips into a thoughtful pout. “How long has your sebacean comrade been on the planet?” She asked, “She seems very tired, perhaps she should return to your ship and allow you to continue the search alone?”
“I thank you for your concern but it is doubtful Aeryn will return until she has found both Crichton and D’argo.” he stated, finding much truth in his own words.
“It is possible that they may never be found. It would seem they both disobeyed curfew orders; their safety cannot be vouched for. Male presence in this city is not tolerated, should they have encountered some of this town’s criminals…” Her voice trailed off and she watched the emotions on Stark’s face. “Men have simple minds, Banik, I’m sure you appreciate that. We are proud of the joy segregation brings.”~
“Segregation brings nothing but misery.” The girl spat. She had introduced herself to Aeryn as Natrisha. “We did not ask for it, we had no choice. One day the streets were full of both males and females, then the males began to dwindle, their numbers grew few. Meanwhile Varala was preaching about the evil of male influence. I thought the men were just getting afraid and leaving, but now? Now I do not believe this.
“Garoth, he himself told me that he would never leave… and then…” She sighed heavily, “The night before our wedding, he disappeared. Then…then it seemed in one night all the males in the town had left. People said that they had fled in fear of
Varala’s policy of segregation.” Lowering her voice she glanced around nervously. “No one talks about it. Everyone gets on with life as if nothing had happened, as if we were always this way…Women were always more important than men, so people were seemed prepared to accept their departure, but your arrival, it changed things.”
“How so?” Keeping her voice low Aeryn leant towards Natrisha.
“People have started to talk again, but no one seems brave enough to speak publicly, I think they are all afraid that they will be punished for questioning the council’s policies. They might be taken too? Forced to leave the city, like Garoth.”
“And what do you believe forced them to leave?”
“I do not know.” She whispered, “but I am afraid of it.”
Aeryn sighed. She had learnt very little that was of true benefit: that all the males had left in the night, the people were not happy with the situation, but…that was all. Silently she thought about what Natrisha had just said. The males had all left out of fear. So why had John left? He was not afraid. Or there was the other theory; something had scared them into leaving. Thanking Natrisha she moved to her feet and squeezed herself past the gathered clusters of green clothed people towards Stark. Varala was staring at him her manner clearly intimidating him.
“Stark.” Aeryn called him and he looked thankfully over. “I suggest that we go back to our accommodation and contact Moya, see whether Zhaan has discovered anything that can help us.” Grasping Stark’s arm she hauled him to the door; feeling Varala’s eyes burn into their necks she held back the vicious glare she longed to throw in Varala’s direction. Stepping outside she breathed in a lungful of the warm dusky air staring up at the hazy sky, glanced down she peered at the horizon as it curved visibly away.
“I thought you had a plan?” Stark asked irritated, Aeryn had barely paused to inform him of the situation and now she seemed to be lost in aimless thought.
“I have.” Aeryn snapped. “Give me your hand.”
“Why?” he asked timidly
“Just do it!”
Stark waved his left hand in front of Aeryn’s face and felt her hands clamp strongly onto it. A sharp metallic click pierced the street’s silence and jerking his head down he saw – to his dismay - that Aeryn had handcuffed them together.
“This is your plan?” He asked incredulously.
“Exactly.” She replied. “You are not going anywhere. Come on.” She yanked on his hand and led the way back to their accommodation. Perhaps this wasn’t the most interesting solution, John would probably be quite disappointed in her lack of ingenuity, but at least it meant the missing two could not become a missing three. Two missing males; in a town empty of males.
“Varala said she thought it could have been criminals who took John and D’argo, because they were male.” He glanced over his shoulder nervously. “She said that they could have been taken while they were out after curfew.”
“Yes, but John returned.” Aeryn replied. “I was awake and he came back. Now for some reason unbeknownst to me; he left the room before I next awoke, but I do know that he was not attacked whilst out on his walk.”
* * * *Chiana sidled quietly down the corridors heading towards the damaged area following Pilot’s directions. As she passed the mess hall she heard the tell-tale whirr of Rygel’s throne-sled, pausing she debated briefly as what to do. Give Rygel hezmana or proceed straight to the severed conduit. After a brief battle with her weak conscience she finally decide it wouldn’t kill Pilot if he waited just a few microts. Leaning up against the door she whispered through the crack, “Oh Ryge,” she purred, “come out here, I got something I wanna talk to you about.”
“Can’t it wait?” He spoke through a muffling mouthful of green food cubes recognising the voice of the crewmember he usually regarded as a fellow conspirator. Well whatever it was she had devised this time, it could wait.
“No Ryge, I’m afraid it can’t. Come on, I wont take too long,” ‘Get you fat ass out here!’ Rygel She thought impatiently. Grumbling moved his sled so it hovered in the entrance to the door.
“This better be worth it.” He growled before making a move to follow her. “I was in the middle of eating”
Before he had time to react he found himself yanked out of the comfort of his throne sled and slammed up against the nearest wall. Gasping he retorted furiously his words choked out in anger.
“If this is some kind of joke-”
“Joke? Is damaging Moya and then not telling anyone a joke?”
Rygel feigned innocence. “I don’t know what you mean!”
“You don’t fool me Rygel,” Chiana snapped, “what happened after I left you earlier when you were having problems with your throne sled. I hear you cursing it because you couldn’t control it? Is that right? Now tell me if I’m right here.” She pushed her face up close to his. “After you left me you lost control of your sled didn’t ya? Then you crashed into one of Moya’s walls leaving a big dent, didn’t ya? Then you left as quick as your throne-sled would allow you before any one noticed, didn’t ya?” Her eyes glowed and she glared angrily at Rygel her voice rising. “Didn’t ya?”
“I- err, I,” he stuttered.
“You what frog-boy? Spit it out!”
“I didn’t cause much harm.”
“No, no, of course you didn’t, that’s why Pilot has been feeling like dren for the last few arns, why he can’t think straight. Did you even notice? You haven't got an excuse like Zhaan, you’re not preoccupied trying to find John and D’argo, you’re not helping anybody. Well,” she tucked his wriggling body under her arm; “you’re helping me now.”
“Help? I’m not helping you!” He squeaked. “What do you need help for?”
“You damaged the conduit that carries Pilot’s nutrient supply. So now you are going to help me fix it. And then, you are going to apologise to Pilot.” She opened her comms and started to walk back towards the damaged area. “Pilot, I’m almost there, I stopped to pick up Rygel somewhere on the way so now he’s gonna help too.” Rounding the corner she glimpsed the full extent of the damage. A fracture in Moya’s curved wall exposed the numerous cords and threaded pipes that twisted in the cavity behind the walls. A single cord like fibre hung out of the frayed hole, leaving a dampened mark on the wall as its contents seeped slowly down the wall and onto the floor, hissing as it pooled at Chiana’s feet.
“What a mess.” She whispered then raised her voice for Pilot to hear. “Ok, I’m here now Pilot. It doesn’t look to good.”
“I know.” He said slowly trying hard not to sound as if in pain, but, alas, failing miserably. “I have sent a DRD to give me a visual and so assist you in your task.” Moving slowly he cast his eyes over the display of the damage. “This could take some time, Chiana.”
~“John you disappoint me.”
Blackness.
“You’re a survivor.”
Heaviness…so tired…
“You can not let yourself succumb to this.”
Distortion.
“I need that wormhole technology.”
The weighted mask of lethargy consumed his being, pain pressed against his skull. Resistance was futile. Images of Scorpy flickered, undulating ripples, sharp flashes, blackness, consuming.
“You can not less this beat you. I can not allow that to happen.”
Slipping…Conscious thoughts an effort, so heavy…
“Fight it, John fight it.”
Suffocated, strangled in an ebony emptiness…
Resistance is futile.
Only option: submission.
End of Part Three!!!