Part III : Absent Friends 

"Absolutely not!" Aeryn returned. She pivoted and paced back the length of her quarters. "I cannot believe you are listening to that… tale!" 

"I've seen stranger shit." John shrugged. He lay face up sprawled across her neatly made bed, simply because he knew it annoyed her. His head dangled off the edge and he watched her continued pacing, upside down from this vantage point. 

She stopped and frowned at him. "What is that supposed to mean?" 

"It means… I don't know." He shrugged again. It was surreal. Where he should be feeling jubilance, a strange numbness had claimed him since Ellie had told him the story of the past year of her life. He had listened, feeling disconnected, to her halting tale of living on Earth, her discomfort about discussing Jack Crichton. 

Rachel Northway was a vague memory to him. She was a plastic smile and a handshake from one of the endless parades of sponsor-milking events in the early days of the Farscape project. 

And DK, that boneheaded jackass. DK was the one who got sick on Space Mountain, who lost his glasses at the bottom of Miller's Pond and who wore bullies like an overcoat during recess at Patrick Henry Middle School. DK was out here. With him. In hell. Working for the Peacekeepers. Jesus. 

"Do not let her… relationship with you…" 

"With us." He corrected. 

She ignored him. "…Affect your judgment about the circumstances, John. This is most likely a trap." 

"It's so damned frelled up, Aeryn. How the hell could it be?" He propped himself up on one elbow. He gestured at the container of "souvenirs" Ellie had bestowed upon him, apparently the hoarded junk food Northway had packed for the return journey. "If you were the head Spielberg Nazi in charge of catching me… would you really go to all this trouble?" 

She nodded absently, eyebrows raised in silent agreement. But the argument remained. "Fine. Perhaps it is true. Your two allies are being held in a well-fortified Neu-tech installation. Then what? You'll go there? Attempt a rescue." 

"Well… maybe if I ask real nice." He joked. 

She rolled her eyes. "John. This is insanity." 

"'Sides…did it once before." 

"Yes. And barely escaped with your life. I was there, John. I remember." She said quietly. The memory of it seemed to stay her. Her annoyance slipped, revealing her true concern. This was only a small portion of her greater fear and worry. 

Shoulders slumped she sank on to the foot of the bed at his side. She leaned against him, eyes downcast, suddenly weary. "John…" 

"I know, baby." He said, as she tucked her head beneath his chin. "But these guys came out here for me. We have to do something." 

"No you don't. You can't possibly know." She said distantly. 

"This isn't just about DK, is it?" He pulled away, lifting her chin gently. 

"I watched you with her today and my first impulse was the threat she posed to us all. I cannot trust her. And then I saw the expression on her face..." 

"Aeryn, she worships you." John grinned. 

"Then she is misguided." 

"It's gonna be OK, baby." He spoke a lie and knew it in his heart. 

#

 "Coupler torch." Ellie grunted. Her pale hand extended over the lip of the open floor panel. 

"What?" Asher blinked up at her. 

Obviously he did not move fast enough. With an exasperated sigh, she leaned down into the space and grabbed the torch from him. Wordlessly she disappeared once more to the deck above. 

He uttered a small disgruntled noise and frowned at exchange coils. The case had been cracked which was never a good sign for exchangers. He would have never stolen a vessel in such a condition in the first place. The pod was not going anywhere without replacements. It was an exercise to keep him busy. Grot work. 

He pulled himself out of the workspace and sat on its edge, watching her. A nagging doubt had crept upon him in recent days solidifying to a fear that Northway's cure had not been permanent. 

"What." She granted him a sidelong glance and turned back to hopeless tangle of neural filaments. "What are you looking at?" 

"If you were ill again… you'd tell me. Right?' He asked, not entirely certain he wanted an answer. She had taken to sleeping at odd times during the day. And then this morning he had awoken once again alone. He found her in the lavatory, trying desperately to hide the fact she had been sick. 

"Yes. I'd tell you. And no.. I’m not." Her eyes narrowed on him. The question obviously took her by surprise. 

"But this morning-- " 

"I said that I am not sick." She said flatly. Her face reddened. She looked away, concentrating fiercely now on the work before her. 

"Ellie…" 

They both turned at the voice. John Crichton stood in the portal. 

"Yes, Father?" Ellie climbed to her feet quickly as if caught in some guilty act. She smoothed unruly strands of hair away from her face self-consciously. 

"Pilot said he needed some help. You think you could go see what it is?" Crichton asked. Asher knew it for the lie it was. 

So did Ellie. She looked down at Asher. He grinned at the expression of mild panic on her face, his back still to the Commander. Did she really think they could avoid this? 

"Please." John prodded, sensing her hesitation. 

"Yes, sir." She paused in the entrance and looked at her father, trying to guess his motives. He jerked his chin, gesturing her out of the craft. 

Asher watched this silent exchange, the dynamics lost on him. He barely remembered his own father, a loud drunk with a vicious temper and a heavy hand at disciplining his son. Thankfully Barrid Korbyn was often away for weekens at a time doing shift work at one of Hedas's atmospheric processors. The bastard had the decency to die in a tavern brawl when Asher was seven cycles. 

He rose, wiping the grime of the spent exchangers from his hands. He kept his moves casual as he gathered up the battered assortment of tools, pretending not to guess Crichton's reason for sending Ellie away. 

"I asked around about you… back on N'Dex." John said, stepping into his path. He folded his arms across his chest. "After you pulled your disappearing act." 

"I've been wondering what's kept you so long, Commander." Korbyn shook his head, grinning laconically. He had been waiting for this. "You heard nothing but the best, I'm certain." 

"Cut the crap. I know what I heard." He said, grimly. "The Peacekeepers and just about every crime boss in the uncharteds want a piece of you. How you're still sucking in air surprises the hell outta me." 

"Look, Crichton. I know what this is about. She's twenty four cycles--" 

Crichton interrupted. It was obvious the man had been working on this speech, waiting for the time to deliver it. "I don't know what she sees in you. I don't pretend to know how it is between you two. And that's probably none of my business." 

"At least we agree on something." Asher muttered. 

"But I can see you make her happy." 

Korbyn shifted his weight from foot to foot, uncomfortably. The comment took him by surprise. 

He looked at Crichton. There was an intensity to the man. It was that stare, mouth set in defiance. He realized it was the same expression that Ellie used when she was determined to make a point, only on her it seemed to be inherent. In her father it had been hewn there by the cruelties visited on him. Crichton was a man who had known peace once, and now could only be haunted by the memory of it. The sarcastic remark Asher had been garnering seemed to evaporate. 

"When she lets me… yes." He heard himself say. 

"Earn her." Crichton said, leaning in. "Because… so far… you haven't." 

#

 She moved through the darkened streets at his side. Although his movements were sure, Ellie could sense a cautious anxiety in him. Trilos had a reputation that made a stopover on a Zenetian pirate colony preferable. Visiting ships stopped here merely out of necessity. It lay on the outer rim of a minor system, the only outpost for provisions for weekens. 

But their need was not for food rations or Biomechanoid fortifications. In fact they had taken the transport pod down to the planet during a sleep cycle. The less the others on Moya knew, the better, although Elenor assured herself that they would not care. 

In Ellie's point of view, they had already chosen their sides during their communal meeting in Pilot's den that day. What a monumental waste of time that had been! Their very inability to agree on a course of action to come to Rachel's aid spoke volumes. They cared for little more except their own fugitive hides, abandoning her father as they voiced platitudes and excuses. Cowards… the lot of them. 

She had no choice but to take action into her own hands. Little of life surprised Elenor Crichton. How did she expect them to understand? To come to the rescue of a woman to which she owed so much? It all collapsed into the bitter kernel of truth nestled inside of her heart. Loyalty was noble but a rarity, indeed. Ironically, she found it in the self-confessed criminal at her side. Perhaps Scorpius had been right on certain things… 

She was wrenched from her thoughts, aware that Asher had stopped abruptly. They stood in the circle of light thrown by the street corner's feeble glow globe. This section of the commerce station was grittier, if that were at all possible, littered with dozens of ramshackle taverns and pleasure houses. Drunken laughter and arguments on alien tongues filtered out into the night. 

"What is it?" She asked, quickly taking in the shadow-lined street. 

Wordlessly, he grabbed her by the waist and forced her back against the wall. His mouth was instantly pressed against hers in a rough kiss. She conceded to him, hesitant. 

At that moment a trio of Peacekeepers sauntered by, soldiers on leave, obviously drunk and easy prey for the local pickpockets and thugs. They wobbled by uttering bawdy comments at the two, but otherwise leaving them alone. 

"They're gone, Asher." She pulled away from him, rising on tiptoe to peek over his shoulder at their receding backs. His hands remained planted against the wall on either side of her as he trapped her against the wall. 

She felt him grin against her neck as he answered. "You can never be too sure." 

"Yes, Korbyn, you're the model of stealth and prowess." She slipped down the wall and ducked under his arm, looking away to hide her flushed face. "How much farther?" 

"Not much." He tugged at her thick plait and quickly dodged her retaliatory swing. 

"Are you certain this… Fenrid will help us." 

He shrugged, non-committal. "No." 

They continued in silence, Korbyn leading them down a winding maze of alleyways. The space widened out into a courtyard formed by the towering walls of the dilapidated buildings. The darkened windows and doorways gave no clue as to who or what lay beyond. The entire place seemed abandoned, but Ellie sensed that this was some sort of clever camouflage. 

"I don't like this." Ellie muttered. Instinctively her hand fell to the pulse gun on her thigh. She freed it from its retaining clip. Its weight was a cold comfort in her hand. Earlier that night she had stolen it from the leviathan's armory, easily overriding the laughable security feature imposed by the Luxan. 

She clung to the perimeter of the courtyard, opting for the shadows cast by Trilos's bloated moons. The entire area was a tactical disadvantage, only one perceived exit and no cover to take during a fire-fight. 

Asher, however, maneuvered into the center of the space, seemingly unafraid. "Fenrid!" 

There was no answer, only the unmistakable high-pitched whine of a pulse weapon's charging mechanism. The sound bounced around the walls, making it impossible to track the owner's hiding spot. 

"Korbyn…" Ellie hissed. Didn't he hear that? 

He waved her off, gesturing for her to stay put. Instead he turned back around and shouted to the mute walls of the courtyard. "Fenrid! It's me… Korbyn." 

A pulse gun round exploded off the stone path denches from his feet. Korbyn scrambled back, tucking himself into the shadows beside Ellie. 

"I thought you said he would help!" She growled. 

"He can't still be mad about that." Korbyn muttered. He removed the pulse gun tucked into the waist of his clothes. 

"What?" She looked at him, incredulous. "Mad about what?" 

"I mean… that was a long time ago." He looked at her and gave an uneasy laugh. "Hezmana." Ellie shook her head. She froze, catching the miniscule flit of a blacker shape in the dark square of a low window. They were pinned into the spot, moving to the exit would only draw his fire. 

"You've got mivonks showing your face here, Korbyn!" A shadowy form disengaged from a doorway. 

"I need your help, Fenrid." Korbyn unfolded from her side and took a cautious step forward. "You owe me one." 

"I owe you?!" The shadow barked a derisive laugh. "That's rich!" 

A brief silence ensued. Carefully, Ellie straightened, watching the dark for sudden moves. She was about to call to Korbyn when Fenrid's voice sounded again, this time much closer, somewhere to her left. 

"You know, Korbyn… Lucien Ix has a bounty on you that makes the on one Vladics look like chopped mellet." 

"You know Luc. He doesn't do anything unless it's in excess." Korbyn returned. 

"In fact… why I should even help you at all is beyond me." There was a chemical hiss and a small flicker of flame. Briefly she saw the shadow man's face illuminated in the soft glow. There was a waft of smoke and the peppery smell of burning Hynerian tobacco. 

"Because you owe me." 

"Hedas was ages ago, Korbyn." Fenrid moved closer. His form fully etched now in the moonlight. He was tall and lanky. Leathery skin decorated in tattoos covered his frame. One eye was obscured by a patch, the memento of a violent trade. 

"You wouldn't be alive, you worthless piece of dren." 

Ellie stalked to Asher's side, sensing their wary truce as the two men continued to share insults in their banter. 

"Details… details." Fenrid returned. She felt the cragged looking criminal study her, measuring. The man was obviously curious about her, but knew better than to ask questions. 

Finally he looked back to Asher. "Alright, Korbyn. For old times sake."

#

"Complete holographic interface capability. Mutating high-density security override." Fenrid held the slim identchip up in the amber light of his dingy little workshop. The pride in his voice was unmistakable as he continued the litany over the counterfeit device. "Modified genetic encoding…" 

"Which means…" Korbyn arched an eyebrow, less than impressed. 

Fenrid grinned. "I could put Scarran DNA in any security checkpoint and this little miracle would make the processor think it's a Sebacean with full clearance." 

"Prove it." Ellie stepped up, slipping the slim black gloves off her hands. The lanky tech gestured her to the hulking frame of security processor. Fenrid slipped the chip into the slot and motioned to her. With a brief hesitation Ellie placed her hand inside the genetic reader. There was the familiar electric slither over her fingers as the decoder read her hybrid genetics. 

"Reesa Vechyan." Korbyn read the false credentials off screen. "Sebacean core system. Meraux Induction Facility." 

Ellie stepped back to stand beside Asher. She looked at him then back to Fenrid. "How long will it take you to make another one?" 

"Depends…" He bounced the chip from hand to hand. "Could take weekens…"

 She threw the pouch of chits at him. Surprised, Fenrid caught it against his chest. He looked up at her. "Half an arn."

#

The girl's back was to the door, Aeryn noted with a tinge of disapproval. That was unwise, even in the perceived safety of Moya. Perhaps her time on Earth had made her forsake such important tactics… 

"Is your com malfunctioning?" Aeryn asked sharply. She detected the slightest change in Elenor's posture, a stiffening of the spine. "You should eat. We've been trying to call you to the galley." 

Elenor turned only slightly, her hands busy at the littered workbench. It was plain that she was nervous in Aeryn's presence. "You'll forgive me, muh-- Officer Sun. I am not hungry." 

"Still… you should answer." Inwardly she cringed, recalling a similar admonishment from Crichton so long ago. And on the heels of that was another thought. She herself had not answered then, because something was wrong. There was a secret she wished to hide. 

"What are you doing?" Aeryn looked at the strewn objects on the bench. 

A pulse gun lay in pieces, its compression chamber exposed for recalibration. There were two other weapons on the bench, no doubt awaiting the same inspection. A stack of chakan oil cartridges lay in a neat pile nearby. It was in principle a small arsenal. 

The younger woman shifted in her spot, partially obscuring her view. "Nothing really." 

Aeryn studied her. "That's a great deal of nothing…" 

"Nothing… important." She looked up at her, the guilt was obvious. Elenor possessed the same tells as her father. John wore an identical expression when he was withholding the truth: the back handed, overtly casual gestures. The cant to the head. 

Aeryn reached for one of the reassembled guns and Elenor snatched it away. A new edge entered the girl's voice. "This really is nothing to concern you." 

She regarded her. "One of the transport pods was used last night…" 

"Korbyn and I went to Trilos." The girl answered too quickly. A thick sarcasm filled her voice. "I'm sorry… was I supposed to ask your permission?" 

"Trilos is a very hostile environment…" 

"I can handle myself." 

"I don't know what you're planning," Aeryn cautioned. She could not be contemplating something so foolhardy, could she? "But if you prove to be even more like John this plan is ill-advised." 

"My plans work!" Elenor snapped. She granted Aeryn only a brief glance before turning away. Quickly she began to gather the incriminating evidence into a tech case. 

"Elenor..." Aeryn said quietly, her hand falling on the girl's staying it. She flinched as if stung. But still she would not turn to look at her. 

"Why should you even care, mother!" She spat the word. "Even if I fail, you'll be rid of me that much more quickly!" 

"Why do you say that?" Aeryn could not keep the surprise from her voice. 

"I know that is what you want. I am a risk! You do not trust me!" Her eyes glistened with hurt betrayal. "If we lived a thousand cycles you would never forgive me or trust me!" 

A sickening guilt wormed through her as she realized Elenor had overheard her conversation with John. A prominent part of her did wish the girl had not returned. Her presence only served to distract and complicate matters. But then there was that nameless, niggling ache that sat beneath Aeryn's heart. It was the same ache that kept her in this room, instead of turning on her heel, leaving this tortured soul to her suicidal plans. 

Aeryn asked. "Is that why you are doing this? To prove something to me?"

The girl stopped, hands splayed on the bench and her head bowed against a phantom burden Aeryn could never surmise. Her voice was low, a near echo of Aeryn's own, save for the odd inflections. "Father was right. I do worship you. It was all I ever wanted… to be like you… to be perfect in his eyes. Yet my whole life has been an apology for my very birth." 

"Don't… You mustn't say things like that." Aeryn stammered. Cautiously she placed a hand once more on the girl's. This time she did not move away. "I do not expect you to understand me. But consider your father. Don't do this to John again. You have no idea what having you here means to him. We shall find a way to rescue--" 

"I am…" Her voice was flat once more. It was as if she withdrew, recoiling beneath her protective veneer. "I am considering him. I've decided that it is best that he not be involved. This requires someone that can think as a Peacekeeper." 

"You have decided--" 

"Do not try to stop me, Mother." Elenor interrupted. She busied herself with the weapons, dismissing her. 

"No." Aeryn shook her head, allowing the sad smile its place. "I know you will not listen. That is the part of you like me."

#

"What did you talk about with my father?" 

Her question drove him from the edge of sleep. She shifted beside him in waiting silence. He groaned and thrust his head beneath the pillow. Why now? They had spent the past fourteen arns successfully skirting this question, and she chose now. As a question of tactics he firmly felt it was something she had done to lull him into a false sense of security. 

Ellie tugged his pillow away. “Well?” 

"Why don't you ask him?" Korbyn said, looking up into the darkened spines of the ceiling. 

"I’m not… I'm asking you." Playfully, she pinched his flank. But there was anxiousness in her tone, badly veiled. 

"Look." He pushed himself up on one elbow. In the dimness she was a distracting composite of pale curves against the dark fabric of the bed. "I don't… deal with this… sort of dren… " 

"Dren?" She said sarcastically. "Is that what you talked about?" 

He ran a hand over his face, muttering disconsolately. "You know what I mean, Crichton." 

"Korbyn… no one is making you stay here. You're free to go." Her voice became singsong, teasing, as she realized for once, she had managed to embarrass him. She thrust the captive pillow back at him. 

"Yes… I'm free to go… whenever I want… wherever ” He said, leaning down to her. Her arms slipped around his back. “But I'm still right here."

#

Chakan oil. The maintenance bay reeked of it. Of course, it was nothing that a Sebacean or a human could notice, but D'Argo easily followed the trail of its scent out to the transport pod. He lingered at the vessel's hatch. Crichton's daughter and the deserter had been offered the task of repairing it and eagerly took it up. Perhaps too much so. 

He drew in a deep breath. The pungent aroma was stronger here still. It brought to mind memories of the Peacekeepers and his confinement amongst them. Unconsciously he flexed and balled his fists. Then he keyed open the hatch. 

The smell was overpowering in the confined space. He imagined he could even taste it. At first glance, nothing seemed suspect. The overseer's console stood idle, amber panel of indicators showed the pod in a dormant, regenerative mode. The once ailing systems were in optimum condition. Their restoration of the craft had been admirable. Yet he paused, vague anxiety building, spurred on by the noxious fumes of the ammunition. What else had then been busy doing? 

D'Argo turned back to the hatch and stopped in his tracks. The Peacekeeper regimental insignia above the doorway was back in place. He remembered taking the hateful icons down himself. Moya and her pods have been filled with dozens of them. Nearly all had contained tracking beacons or surveillance devices. Now the standard was back, glaring down at him like a baleful half-lidded red eye. Would L'Tan and Korbyn be so blatant about their sympathies? 

Angered, his breathing now came in seething snarls. They had obviously had been up to much more than simple repairs. Suspicions now running rampant, he turned his attention back to the pod. The scent was stronger near the door. The storage compartment. He slammed its cover open. There were rows of pulse weapons… concussion grenades… assault rifles… charge cartridges. It was enough to fuel a small revolt… or empower a mutiny… 

"What are you doing?" 

He whirled. L'Tan stood in the hatchway. He could see over her shoulder into the bay. Korbyn was not far behind. With a hiss he lunged at her, grabbing her by the collar and quickly shut the hatch, sealing them both inside. 

"No, Peacekeeper! I demand answers from you!" D'Argo snarled. 

The girl fell forward with the momentum, surprised and unprepared. She pushed herself up on her hands and knees, eye narrowing into feral slits. "What the frell!" 

"Crichton and Aeryn may be blind… but I am not! Once a Peacekeeper, always a Peacekeeper!" He growled, descending on her. 

She agilely scrambled away, moving to her feet in a fluid motion. "What the frell are you talking about!" 

There was a muted thudding at the pod's hatch. Her coms sounded with Korbyn's voice: "Crichton!" 

"You were not content to sabotage Moya this time? So instead you'll do what… mutiny? Rejoin them and lead them back here?" He stalked her around the edge of the console. But she was clever enough to keep the distance between them. 

"Are you listening to what you're saying? This is madness… Ka D'Argo." L'Tan spared a desperate glance around the pod, looking for options and finding none. "I would not do that. My allegiance is to my father… and my mother … not to the Peacekeepers." 

"Crichton! Open the hatch!" 

"Is it? There was a time once, when I may have been swayed by such speeches… but no more!" His voice rose to a growl. "There is no greater treachery than from your own blood! Crichton will know the truth!" 

"Give me the chance to explain!" She pushed away from the console, taking cautious steps back. "I am going to find the Neu-Tech base. To do that Korbyn and I must appear as Peacekeepers. I owe Northway a debt, a great debt… you of all people… a warrior would understand this oath to an ally. I owe her my life!" 

He no longer pursued her, yet he was not about to let her pass. D'Argo folded his arms against his chest, impassive as a statue. "Do not compare yourself to a warrior." 

"And you claim to be one?" She asked, ridicule slipping into her tone. "I watched my father… your supposed ally… ask you for help. But what did you give? Excuses! What kind of warrior abandons an ally?" 

"Do not presume to judge me!" 

"I have! Just as you judge me!" She spat. "Take away the weapons! This pod! All of it! I will still find a way to go after her. I will die trying." 

Regardless of the fact he could have easily fell her with his sting, she stepped closer. And he realized her desperation was not for herself, but for something much different. Had he misjudged this creature? "No one will stop me. Not Father. Or Mother… or you." 

"Please… believe me, Ka D'Argo. I know I have done… questionable things in the past. And I do not deserve your trust. Allow me this chance at redemption." L'Tan fell to her knees before him, guard surrendered. Supplicant, she bowed her head. The following uneasy silence in the pod was punctuated by Korbyn's attempts at opening the hatch. 

"Get up." He muttered finally. D'Argo stepped past her, feeling the bitter burn of self-righteousness abandon him. "If you are to be a warrior, you should act as one." 

There was the protest of metal hinges as the hatchway shuttered open. It froze half-way in its tracks. Korbyn pressed himself into the space and muscled it completely open. "Crichton… are you alright? What the frell is going on?" 

"It's under control, Asher." She answered, rising to her feet. 

D'Argo trundled to the lock. Korbyn moved to block his way. He stared down at the Sebacean before shouldering past him. "Leave. Both of you. Now." 

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