NEZRIM PART THREE

Meridan

'We are finally here little sister, aboard a Peacekeeper Command Carrier', Lockel's emerald gaze fell unhindered upon his surroundings. The cold metal door of the Officer's lounge, adorned with a white, black and red peacekeeper seal. His eyes continued their cool calculation, flowing over the scarlet cushions of the black resting benches, teasingly comfortable, wedged tidily against the far-lounge walls. The floor was a large, perfect mirror image of the Peacekeeper seal etched into the door.

Three solid colours...White...Black...Red...Repeating threads...weaving...intertwining...

Reflections on the lounge ceiling. The floor and walls.

'Mercenaries...Soldiers...devoted entirely to their disciplines, these Peacekeepers surround themselves with blood and death. Curious beings, perhaps more curious than Tizen could ever have fully described'. Lockel's thoughts flowed into Meridan's mind. Inherently telepathic, it was easier for the Nissassa to implement mind-speech for communication, both for privacy and safety. They were 'guests' aboard an alien vessel, whose technologies were unfamiliar. They sensed that the lounge itself had several hidden monitoring devices placed strategically in the walls.

Privacy was only an illusion of false-security.

Meridan's eyes came to rest on her half-brother's broad shoulders. She had the same emerald gaze, as did all Nissassa, a dominant genetic trait expressed through their entire population.

'His descriptions are several cycles old Lockel, but not completely inaccurate. It seems the Peacekeepers have hardly altered themselves since his times among their ranks'. She was a tall lithe creature, with long dark hair intricately braided that flowed gracefully from her head to stream down her back in a gentle wave. 'Perhaps, but for your sake Meridan I hope we can fulfill this pledge you made to your father upon his death-bed. Should these dogs ever catch wind of our people's true interest for agreeing to help them hunt their precious Leviathan Moya, and her renegade crew, a fire-raging vengeance will be licking our heels'.

'He was a father to both of us my brother, remember that'. Ancient grief stung her heart, welling from old wounds. Meridan had countlessly recalled the memory of her father, Tizen telling stories of his life to two eager-listening children leaning on cropped elbows staring across an open fire at his kind face. Their imaginations lost in his words. She remembered his warm light-gray eyes gazing at her fondly from across that fire. His only child to her Nissassan mother Merenyai.

'Enough Lockel!' Quanis the self-appointed leader of their group reprimanded his junior. Zenthii the youngest gazed warily up at her sire, eighteen cycles old she was the closest person, Meridan had to a younger sibling.

'Leave your sister be, we have a mission here of utmost importance and it will take all of our expertise, cunning and intelligence to see it successfully through'. Quanis watched over Meridan protectively, 'Your Sire and I shared a deep and abiding friendship Meridan it is on my honor that I help you fulfill his dying wish, and a promise I made to him long ago'. Meridan nodded gratefully, in silent acknowledgement. She had support from all those whom she loved and cared for, the greatest gift anyone could bestow upon her.

'Perem she'nah, jahnok loh makcum shei'di yakuan'lah'. (Thank you friend's and brother of my sire), 'Cahlem shaidei' lahkuen chi', da moien'. (On my honor I accept you at your word and together we shall accomplish). The sweet words of the Nissassa's native language filled their hearts with hope and renewed strength. 'For you father, I shall find her, on my honor and my life'. Somewhere in that deep expanse of night, the answer to Meridan's pledge awaited.

'They approach', she thought, sensing several sebacean minds moving towards the Lounge Door, another darker presence among them. Scarran. Part sebacean. This one was unusual almost sinister. 'Cloud your thoughts brothers, our new captain is making his first appearance, and this one unlike the sebaceans possesses latent telepathic abilities. We don't want him to sense our true prerogative '. Each Nissassa in turn raised a neural block inside their minds.

"Emissary Quanis Manen", lieutenant Braca entered the Officer's lounge, flanked by two Peacekeeper soldiers, garbed in jet-black uniforms each brandishing a pulse-rifle. Their faces hidden beneath dark-polished visors. He stood austerely before them; "I present the Commander of this Vessel, Scorpious".

"Akuhn neih", Quanis bowed his head respectfully to his new Captain, offering the Nissassa honor greeting. Meridan, Lockel and Zenthii each verbalized the exact same greeting. Individually bowing their heads in respect. "Cahmei 'Rahn Scorpious", (Commander Scorpious).

Scorpious gazed thoughtfully at his new recruits; they were indeed very imposing creatures. Clad in soft bronzed breeches, knee-length corpa-skinned boots. Their frames accentuated with a traditional gray-black Nissassan cloak with a high double collar, sashed at their waists with brown leather belts. They were quite formal. He sensed no fear in their presence, no unease. Only a quiet determination, a quiet desire to locate their prey. They were by far more than he had anticipated. His voice coolly returned their greeting. "Akuhn neih Emissary Quanis Manen".

* * * * * * * * *

Her prey sighed, sweat glistening from his sebacean brows. Niem watched him. She had gathered a great deal of useful information from this prisoner. Who lounged so undignified in Scorpious's new Aurora Chair. He had awakened during the memory probing when the chair had been at full power. Niem distinctly remembered the look of twisted horror on his face and the following shock of intense pain and confusion. Such were the side effects of being a conscious victim during the probing.

The hypodermic filled with anaesthetic nestled comfortably on the tabletop next to her. Lay ignored.

She had continued unperturbed.

However, no matter how much more material she needed from his mind for a considerably effective report for Scorpious she realized the prisoner required some respite. Her fingers brushed lightly over the Console, deactivating the chair, power-level by power-level. If a victim's mind was probed for more than two arns continuously, the electrical stimulus would over-stimulate his neural connections, injuring the valuable neural tissue. Causing blood to flow and clot in the damaged sections of their brains. They would die slowly of a hemorrhage.

She called to two black-garbed guards.

"Remove this prisoner, and escort him to his cell".

She unbuckled the straps that bound the prisoner to the chair. His strength spent, violet eyes watched her gazing meekly. He was so completely docile, that it was no trouble for the guards to hook his arms behind his back, and gently tap his shoulder with the barrel of a pulse rifle to encourage him to walk forward. They lead him silently away.

'Tomorrow', Niem thought. She would continue with the probing. When his mind had had a suitable interval to recover.

For now however it was time to review her latest discoveries.

She cradled a transparent data-crystal in the palm of her hand. It's cool crystal-clear facets sparkling delicately. Niem moved towards the holo-emitter beacon, placing the crystal vertically on its smooth black surface.

A stream of intense white light flowed through the crystal. Illuminating its translucent core.

A crystallized precipice of rainbow hued emissions...flowing...dispersing...

The colours solidifying...

Intricately intertwining...

The image played before her, a tiny excerpt from the sebacean prisoner's past memories.

A loud crash echoed through the laboratory walls.

Niem watched silently.

Two young sebacean men were brawling. One with dark jet-black hair and enraged gray-eyes, the other with short bronzed-gold hair, and green flecked eyes. Both men were clad in Peacekeeper uniforms. Black and red. Blood and death adorning their bodies.

Niem recognized the dark-haired sebacean from an earlier memory. In which he had appeared with a small sebacean child and a gold-haired woman.

"Frelling Dren-brained fool!" the black-mane launched himself at his opponent in a blur of black and red. He tackled powerfully ramming his full body-weight forward.

"Ooh!" a longwinded cry, wheezed from his opponent's lips. As they both fell in a tumble of flailing arms and legs.

Crashing onto a hard wooden floor.

"Frelling Hek-slah-neh!" The black-mane straddled is opponent raising a clenched fist, pinning the other's arms beneath his legs. "Hek-slah-neh!" he cursed, hatred filling his voice. His fist struck repeatedly. Smash, after smash as it brutally connected with his opponent's face.

Anger. Frustration.

Pure unadulterated abhorrence burnt within him.

"TALYN SUN!!".

Their Senior Officer's powerful voice resounded.

"Remove him!", two of Talyn's fellow troop-mates grabbed his arms tearing him from his unconscious victim. He swore and cursed them, glaring dangerously at his Commander, whose violet eyes, focused sternly on him as he was lead struggling away.

"Get Cavernon to the med techs, I will review this matter when both parties have been properly attended to". Commander Vashti, gazed warily after Talyn. He had formed a unique friendship and unfailing respect for his lieutenant, but this rash act of brutality would under no circumstance solve his pain, neither could it go unpunished. As his Senior Officer Vashti was responsible for keeping his troops in line. He sighed this was hardly going to be easy.

The image faded...

Another memory appearing in its place.

"You will not go unpunished for this lieutenant Talyn Sun, you shall spend a weeken in the barracks, you will report every day of that weeken to Captain Fahdair, do you understand?".

Vashti's office was dimly lit, Talyn's dark-hair softly illuminated in its light. His face stern, emotionless.

"Yes sir". Grey eyes cold.

Vashti scanned his face, well aware of the true reason why Talyn had attacked Cavernon. Recently he had received news from Sebeacia regarding his wife and child. The news had shattered his heart. His wife Asmin and their daughter Aeryn had been killed while aboard a shuttlecraft whose destination had been the Nobix sebacean colony, where Asmin's family was settled. The craft had been intercepted and attacked by a lone Sheyang vessel. Fourteen other people had been reportedly aboard the same shuttle. It had been assumed that there were no survivors.

That news had crushed him.

Cavernon had said the wrong thing at the wrong time, and had paid for his words in pain.

Vashti understood Talyn's grief more than anyone. He too mourned their loss, clearly remembering his beautiful little niece giggling happily in Talyn's arms.

Asmin was Vashti's sister.

* * * * * * * * *

The incessant quaking subsided. As Moya slowly eased out of Starburst.

The sharp chill stung Aeryn's bare arms. She leaned further into Crichton's warm embrace, letting his arms encircle her.

Resting her head against his chest, hearing the gentle beating of his heart. Boom...boom...boom...

Distracted for a split microt, Aeryn realized, she had to reactivate Moya's systems!

She reluctantly eased herself away from Crichton, extending her hands in a quick fluid movement. Touching the Command Console.

Brilliant golden light spilled over them, Aeryn blinked her senses momentarily shocked by the abrupt burst of brightness.

"We're alive...", the soft surprised exclamation, Rygel's eyes opened, cautiously scanning Moya's deck. His death-grip on Crichton's leg was loosening. "We're alive...", he whispered sighing.

Jubilation...Euphoria...

"We're ALIVE!". His hynerian screech burst with joy. He hollered long and loud. "WE'RE ALIVE!!!, ALIVE!!!, ALIVE!!!". No reprimands to still his elation.

Zhaan could only smile with relief.

Dargo had his own problems. A very flattened Chiana, gazing warily up at him.

"Chiana? Chiana? Are you all right?". "Who's there?", she croaked, a million blurry Dargos dancing before her bewildered eyes. "It's Dargo Chiana, D...a...r...g...o", he voiced slowly. "Dar...go...?", she smiled weakly. "What happened?". His lips poised to speak. "I remember...you squished me". She mimicked the impact with her gloved hands, spreading them gracefully apart and then sharply whamming them together. "Splat". "I'm sorry Chiana", he stammered, "I couldn't control my movement, I was pitched backward and you were...you were in the...ah...in the way". "I didn't mean to...", "Squash me", she finished. "Ah yes...well".

"Help me up". Chiana extended her be-gloved hand to Dargo, he gently eased her upward.

"Dargo", "Yes", "Remind me next time when Moya decides to have another seizure not to stand behind you...and Dargo", "Yes". "Do you know any place where I can buy some safety gear, you know like a crash helmet, padded body-suits and really thick armor?". He glowered at her, barely amused.

For someone who had been compressed underneath the luxan's immense muscle, with her wits smeared on Moya's walls she had lost none of that lovely Nebari charm.

Chiana smiled sweetly, melting his irritation.

He hated it when females had that effect on him.

Her eyes came to rest on Crichton and Aeryn, Dargo and Zhaan following her gaze.

All three watched the sebacean and the human, nestled together so serenely.

Rygel halted his jovial screeching of "WE'RE ALIVE", realizing no one was paying him heed. Aeryn and Crichton in the edge of his vision.

The former Peacekeeper and the inept Human. The combination was fascinating but slightly implausible.

For some reason Rygel found this rather humorous. Particularly for the fact that they both despite their differences had finally come closer to one another. He knew, as did his crew mates, the strong attraction between John Crichton and Aeryn Sun, but they only ever seemed to come together in times of crisis. Trust Moya to have a disaster at the most opportune time. Rygel chuckled quietly...his cackles growing louder...louder...louder...he gripped his stomach rolling around on the floor...guffawing uncontrollably...

Zhaan stared at the hynerian in stunned confusion. Why was Rygel laughing? This was hardly the time or place for such antics.

She gazed at Crichton and Aeryn sympathetically...both suddenly realizing embarrassedly that they were the source of speculation.

Aeryn's face reddened. Crichton however didn't seem bothered. Ignoring Dargo's and Chiana's prying eyes.

Pilot had witnessed everything quietly observing Aeryn and Crichton. He was particularly irritated by Dominar Rygel's complete lack of subtlety. Laughing. Though that was hardly something that would change miraculously.

Pilot sent out three DRD's with orders to escort his eminence safely back to his quarters. The tiny yellow diagnostic repair droids scuttled across Moya's deck towards the writhing Hynerian. Their miniature blaster cannons set on stun. The DRD's positioned themselves around Rygel, one by one they persuasively extended their cannons.

"Ouch! Pilot! Get away from me you little! Pilot call off these blasted machines IMMEDIATELY! PILOT!".

Revenge.

The DRD's chased Rygel out of Command, stunning his backside with hot sparks. Pilot responded in a stunned tone to Rygel's request, " The DRD's are not responding to my entreaty, I am sorry your eminence...", "SORRY?!...Ohh...Ouch...", Rygel's voice faded away as he was pursued by the three enraged DRD's.

Justice had been served.

"Aahh", Aeryn wilted in Crichton's arms.

Gripping her abdomen.

"Aeryn! What's the matter? Aeryn!".

Hot-blood spurted from her lips. Trickling down her chin. It splattered on her singlet, Crichton's anguished voice rang in her thoughts as darkness claimed her vision.

* * * * * * * * *

"Your absolutely one hundred percent sure that she is going to be alright Zhaan".

"Aeryn has sustained several injuries John, three fractured ribs here", Zhaan extended her delicate blue-ringed fingers pointing to a scanned holo-image of Aeryn's skeletal structure, indicating the new growth of bone that covered the cracked abnormalities on three curved bones in her ribcage. "And here...the fractures caused some internal bleeding, you see here John", she indicated the enlarged outlines of two of Aeryn's internal organs. "The organs are swelling, and here, on one side the blood-vessels ruptured".

Crichton gazed at the holo-image, not impressed. He wanted a direct guarantee that Aeryn was going to be all right.

"Zhaan your the gifted Doogie Howser M.D, I am just a distraught family member, your suppose to comfort me ya know, and tell me 'Hey she'll be fine sure, don't worry about it', not make me worry even more by sharing the grim details". The delvian priestess stared at him. Her blue eyes darkening sympathetically. "I apologize Crichton, I assure you, though my medical expertise is limited". Great just what he needed to hear, the doctor didn't have her Diploma. "Zhaan". "John, I know how much you care for Aeryn...", she rested her blue hand comfortingly on his shoulder. "She will be fine, I promise you".

He wanted to believed her. But more than once John had gazed down at Aeryn's pale complexion, in fitful slumber. Her head resting gently on a pillow. A golden blanket draped over her body. She was so vulnerable. "Thanks Zhaan".

"Hurry up you blue witch, I'm suffering here!".

Dominar Rygel the XVI glowered at her. His gray body covered with a million blackened burns. Zhaan rolled her eyes. Perhaps impatience was a genetic trait prominent in all hynerians instead of a learned behavior.

Aeryn would be fine, with a few arns rest. Zhaan had nursed her first with a series of herbs and medicines, mostly ones that she had collected from Br'nee's tropical asteroid. Rygel deserved to suffer a little. Irritating as he was.

"Patience your Eminence or perhaps I shall simply forget you, I distinctly remember I need to meditate". "You get your blue backside over here this micron! If I was on Hyneria and you were in my court I would have you beheaded for your impertinence".

Zhaan reached for a pale blue glass container, filled with a greeny-yellow substance. Located comfortably on the apothecary shelf.

"Well we are not on Hyneria and not in your court Rygel, so I suggest you show me a little more respect or I will not share any of my medical expertise fawning over your pathetically small injuries, and turn my attentions to more important matters". Rygel fell silent. Those frelling DRD's had pockmarked his usually immaculate gray hide. Dren.

Zhaan delicately unscrewed the cover. Dipping her fingers inside the container, she withdrew them covered in an offensive looking goo.

"What in the frell is that muck?". "Raibean Healing salve, a traditional delvian cure for burns and most skin ailments...", "Hey zits too Zhaan?", Crichton asked curiously. She gazed at him, not quite understanding, 'zit'. She was about to enquire further.

"Excuse me your blueness, but I require your immediate attention!" Rygel demanded..

An irritated frown creased her brow. Zhaan wantonly smeared the ointment underneath Rygel's nasal passages. "UGGH!!, How dare you!", he inhaled the stagnant foulness similar in aroma to weeken old rotting Crell eggs. She mercilessly assaulted several of his burns, "Stop it!", "the salve will provide more than an adequate remedy for your injuries Rygel, so stop complaining and keep still!".

John smiled, enjoying Rygel's torment. His fingers gently caressing Aeryn's sleeping face. "You'll be okay my ex-peacekeeper with a bad-attitude, but-kicking soldier...you'll be just fine".

* * * * * * * * *

"Hurry up Rygel! You've been in there for two solid Arns!", Dargo's impatience was legendary. Instead of utilizing his combadge. He preferred to yell through the opening in Moya's wall.

Rygel had been fumbling his way around the air ducts tripping and falling over in the darkness. His DRD induced burns still stung even with Zhaan's frelling dren salve. The green muck made him look like he was infected with the Alterian plague, an allergenic rash that formed on Hynerian's when they came into contact with Kahral Wisp, a much loathed blue-flowered weed quite common on Hyneria.

He had been sent in to try and find that frelling Synaptic Processor Crystal, the small red gem associated with Moya's circuitry for propulsion. Crichton had figured that whatever had caused Moya to seizure might have had something to do with the crystal. "Well Rygel?". "Did your parents neglect to teach you patience barbarian?", his whining hynerian voice echoing back through the hole. "Just find the damned crystal Rygel! Or have you stolen it again?". "Ha, ha...", he muttered.

"Wow Rygel's gutsy enough to call you names big guy?", Crichton's blue eyes assaulted Dargo's complexion. A stern scowl residing there. "Hmm, when he's in the safety of Moya's walls, little dren-bag". "I heard that you pathetic excuse for a warrior!". "Don't make me come in there Rygel!". "You in here? I'd like to see that you swine! Probably wouldn't even be able to squeeze your buttocks through the hole!".

Rygel was right the gap in Moya's wall was only slightly large enough for a short Hynerian to squeeze through. Far too small for Dargo. The exact reason why Rygel had been the lucky candidate.

"Just move your hynerian eema Sparky!". John called over the intercom, removing his hand from his com badge. Chiana gazed warily at him, they had been standing/sitting around for two solid arns waiting for Rygel. Her patience was fraying. "I have an idea", she said silkily, a soft nuance of mischief in her voice. "I'll be right back". Chiana strode off towards Pilot's Den.

John and Dargo exchanged glances. Wondering what nefarious scheme she was up too.

Several microts passed.

Unheard. Chiana walked stealthily down the tier way, followed by the three DRD's that had tormented Rygel a short while ago. A malicious smile played across Dargo's normally stern lips. Chiana smiled as well. Pure wickedness. "Our little friends here are just going to give our reluctant Hynerian a little stimulation". John grinned as the DRD's scuttled through the gap in Moya's wall.

Rygel could easily have found the Crystal microns ago. Why bother?. Those damned shipmates of his deserved to wait. He sat comfortably on his backside. Dozing off.

A strange familiar humming filled his ears.

It grew louder... louder...

Becoming an incessant buzz.......zzzzzzz......an irritating drone...

He yawned. Uninterested.

Rygel closed his eyes. Buzz.... the sound hovered around him...he opened his eyes... DRD'S!!!

Rygel ran for it. The DRD's in hot pursuit. Their tiny light eyes bobbing as they moved. "GET AWAY!!".

Dargo's chuckles echoed mercilessly...

His eminence had never moved so fast in all his life. It was difficult moving on his short legs, he stumbled several times in the darkness. "Got to keep moving", "keep moving", he wheezed. Panting as he tried to outrun them...

He tripped... falling... headfirst onto the floor of the air-duct. "DREN!!". Oh no... the DRD's would have him for sure... His eyes screwed shut anticipating... several... painful... stunning... cannon stings...

Nothing.

Rygel unwillingly pulled his eyes open. The DRD's were hovering near-by but not over him. He raised himself. Casting his eyes over in their direction.

The little yellow beasties had found he Synaptic Processor Crystal, snugly nestled in Moya's air-duct vein. Rygel tentatively approached. One of the DRD's watched him. It's tiny light bulb eyes dangling from black mechanical eyestalks. His eminence ceased his approach.

Thinking it far safer just to observe from a distance.

Through the DRD's ocular probes, Pilot witnessed the reddish gleam of the crystal. His eyes carefully examining its length. A long fissure cut cleanly through its crimson facets.

From his den Pilot sighed. This was not good news. Without the crystal, Moya couldn't Starburst, couldn't go anywhere. He felt her pain, worry and guilt for failing their crew in every part of his being. He sympathized trying to reassure his distraught mistress. 'Moya please this was not your fault'. It did little. The sharp sting of responsibility dominant in her biomechanoid mind.

* * * * * * * * *

"Just wonderful!, I am stranded in an unknown part of this galaxy, aboard a crippled Leviathan vessel, we have no more edible food-stuffs, because that Hynerian gutter-slug consumed the last of them...", Rygel scowled at Dargo, a thousand evil thoughts, particularly images of cruel torture with the luxan strapped down and... played in his devious little mind.

"...Aeryn's unconscious, Moya can't starburst, and I'm stuck baby-sitting the two of you!".

Chiana frowned, "Watch who your calling a baby!, I was surviving on the streets on my own for longer than your were in prison Dargo!, and believe me it was a hell of a lot harder!".

"Dry up the both of you!, look we know the situation right!", the luxan and his Nebari accomplice fell silent. Listening to Crichton. "The balls in our court guys, so I suggest we play the second quarter".

"What in the frell are you trying to say Crichton?", Rygel asked.

"What I'm trying to say Sparky is that we need food right", "Correct", "We still have Moya's transport pod, and we're in a solar-system that has a planet with a breathable atmosphere". "So?".

Crichton smacked Rygel on the head. "Stop pretending to be thick Sparky it doesn't become you!...we take Moya's transport-pod down to the planet and bang!, look around...". "And find some form of sustenance". "On the dot BIG GUY!, Pilot gave me an intro-scan of the Planet surface".

He produced a transparent film, covered with blue splotches.

Crichton spread the film smoothly out on the tabletop. His fingers pointing to the largest blue splotch.

"This is the planets largest continent, these jagged lines, are the mountain ranges and these", indicating a cluster of thick orange circles " are ruins of the original inhabitant's settlements, and these", John's fingers came to rest on a series of dark-blue triangles that weaved through the orange circles "are the forests".

"And what exactly are we supposed to do there?", Rygel asked, humbly gazing across the map.

"Well Buckwheat the XVI, we need food and this planet is the last option we have, forests usually harbor some forms of animal-life so we'll have fresh meat at least, there will probably be fruit-trees or something similar down there as well".

Chiana stared at him. "Wait a micron, you're honestly suggesting that we go down onto an alien world that hasn't been inhabited by anyone, for who knows how many cycles and traipse around...". "Why Pip afraid?". "No just cautious, I for one want to stay alive, except maybe for you".

"I agree with the Nebari thief", Rygel added.

"You would agree with anyone if it would marginally save your worthless hide Rygel". Dargo could barely tolerate the hynerian. "Which is the perfect reason why the both of you are coming with us".

"What?", Chiana and Rygel voiced in unison. "Crichton and I will require further aid in hauling whatever food sources we find down there back to Moya...", "I am not a pack animal!", "you are now Rygel!". Dargo heaped several huge dusty brown storage bags in his lap. "It will be easier for all of us if you floated around on your thronesled, I'll loan it back you for a short while your Eminence...".

Life with a human, and a luxan was never easy. Chiana and Rygel sighed. "Gather your things ladies and gentlemen we are cruising".

* * * * * * * * *

Pilot opened the docking bay doors, watching the scanner as Moya's transport pod sped into the dark expanse of space. The silver orb of the solar system's star burning brightly in the distance. Chiana, Ka'Dargo, Crichton and a reluctant Dominar Rygel were aboard. Dargo had put it in more simple terms, "Rygel consumed the last of our foodstores, its only right that he should help us find more". Punishment Pilot thought. They had taken several large liquid storage-barrels, food storage bags and a cooler-unit. He hoped they would be successful. And safe. He had posted the DRD's to repair what they could of Moya's propulsion systems.

Without the Synaptic Processor Crystal...with his symbiosis to Moya, thinking about it only made her feel more accountable. 'I apologize'. Her soft leviathan hum forgave him. He felt just as guilty as she did.

"Pilot are you alright?", Zhaan's sweet delvian voice interrupted his train of thought. She stood at the edge of his Console in his den. Her blue eyes concerned. Pilot remembered that was how close she, Dargo and Rygel had been, when Namtar had made his bargain. One of his arms as a trade off for Cartographs to their respective home worlds. He could still remember the searing pain as Dargo's qualta blade sliced through the tender flesh of his arm. Part of him had not quite forgiven them.

"I am fine thank you Zhaan". "Are you sure Pilot?", she asked, gently touching her hand to one of his arms. He retracted it. "I assure you Zhaan, how is Officer Sun?", abruptly changing the subject. The priestess was slightly unnerved, sensing Pilot's coldness. "She is well Pilot, unconscious but I am confident she will wake in the next few arns".

Silence followed.

* * * * * * * * *

"So our prisoner shares a unique connection to Officer Aeryn Sun, how intriguing".

Niem watched methodically as Scorpious reviewed the holo-images, recorded in the data-crystal. "This is more than I had anticipated, did you locate any records of his service in the Peacekeeper Military Archives?".

"No sir, it appears that any military records he had were abolished".

Scorpious's cool scarran gaze considered the possibilities.

"However...", "Continue", "I did recover several records regarding lieutenant Talyn Sun". She passed several more holo-crystals to him.

"Excellent", he fingered the delicate facets. "You have done superbly Niem, I commend your resourcefulness". She nodded.

"With our Nissassa counterparts already on the Leviathan's trail it is only a matter of time until we capture Crichton, and gain our information, how does our former Commander Zackran Vashti fare?". He used the sebacean prisoner's full name mockingly.

"I believe that there is more useful information embedded in his mind, he requires a short interval to recover. But tomorrow sir with your approval I would continue with the probing".

" You have my approval".

To Be Continued...