Author: AmyJ
Rating: R
Notes: Sequel to Daddy's Girl. Companion story is Northway.
Timeline: After LATP - Before DMD 
Summary: An old enemy, controlled by Scorpius, pursues Elenor Sun Crichton.
Archiving: Please ask permission
Part: | 1 | 2 | 3 |4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |
 

Part VII

"What." Ellie frowned, watching Rachel Northway's back for a reaction.  

The older woman only granted Ellie her profile before shrugging and turning back to the bag of medicines and equipment she had managed to snag in their flight from Keurig. The curious woman had been abnormally quiet this morning since she had entered Ellie's room to check her healing sutures. This was quite the difference from her incessant questions and curious observations. 

"Nothing." Northway muttered. Then barely over a whisper she added. "It’s none of my business." 

Ellie arched an eyebrow at this remark that was obviously meant to be overheard. She felt an anxious knot form in the pit of her stomach. Instinctively she knew whatever was on Rachel's mind had nothing to do with her sutures or her failing health. 

"You've got something you want to say." Ellie prodded, rising from the narrow cot. She withstood the slow roll of vertigo this brought as she approached the human. 

Rachel finally turned to regard her. She planted a hand on one hip and tilted her head. "Do I? You gonna tell me you read minds too, Supergirl?" 

Ellie’s brow furrowed. The alien expression meant nothing to her, but she was fairly certain it was not meant to be the compliment it sounded like. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

"You need to rest. Sleep some, huh?" Rachel said, shaking her head dismissively. She turned back to the small table. "I know you didn't get much rest last night." 

"I feel fine," she replied, feeling the blood build in her neck. Rachel’s observation could have been made in innocence, but it was unlikely. She was no fool. And Korbyn could not necessarily be counted on to be discreet. Ellie ventured to the doorway and hovered there, not quite certain where she wanted to go.  

"I hope you know what you're doing." Rachel's quiet voice stayed her. There was a sadness to it that made Ellie turn around and look at her strange companion regardless of the embarrassment worming its way through her.  

At that moment she realized how worn Northway looked. Her overall impression was not one of fatigue, but more a weathered quality, toughened. This was a woman who was truly lost, but had managed to survive against the staunchest odds in the most unlikely of circumstances, not by might, but with her wits.  

And she had chosen to insult this woman by storming out, throwing up some mental shortcut that was firmly installed by the Peacekeepers. She is different. She is alien. Her opinion does not matter. Ellie felt the guilt mingle with the fading embarrassment. It was like fueling a flame. 

"You mean Asher." Ellie said. 

"The very same." 

"Then you obviously do not approve." 

"I didn't say that either…" Rachel sighed.  

"Then what?" Her blood was pounding in her ears. The woman’s scrutiny made her feel so juvenile and naïve.  

"Ellie, don't you think things are complicated enough?" She stepped closer and placed a hand on her shoulder. 

"You don't understand. You were never--" 

"A Peacekeeper?" Rachel said. "You know.. the more I hear about these cats, the less I want to know." 

"What Korbyn and I… it doesn't mean what you think it does," Ellie lied. "There are no attachments. No complications. It’s much easier that way." 

"Good for you. That's convenient, isn't it?" Rachel smiled at her. It was thin, sad. Her deep brown eyes pinned Ellie into place. Her hand slipped off of Ellie's shoulder and she walked past her for the door. Deliberately, Rachel paused and said over her shoulder. "But you know what, hon? Neither one of you are Peacekeepers anymore." 

Ellie watched Northway slip back out in the corridor, leaving her to the deafening silence of her empty room.

 #

 His black, cracked lips stretched into an expression that was a cross between a grin and a hiss of pain as the coolant rod harness locked into place. Almost immediately, the strange numbness that followed such moments coursed down his neck and into his shoulders. Scorpius raised his hands in front of him, fingers splayed. He regarded his arms, as though he could witness the heat's dissipation through the skin of his clothes.  

Sighing heavily, he settled back into the upholstery of the chair. His medical attendant finished gathering her equipment and paid him a subtle nod before retreating to another corner of the suite. 

Almost lazily, he turned his attention back to the pale-faced officer on the comms screen. He had purposefully accepted the transmission at that moment. The young woman had been bade to wait, a picture of barely contained revulsion, as his assistant attended him. 

"Officer…" Scorpius prodded, pretending that his memory lagged. But he knew her name. She was not the first such messenger from Central Command. They had been increasingly adamant about recalling him. Thankfully the insurrection of a Sebacean colony nearby had offered sufficient interference. But that borrowed time was nearly up. 

At his attention she seemed to withdraw from some horrified trance. The young woman swallowed several times before answering. He regretted that the holoweb did not convey energy signatures as well. It would have delicious to know the color of her distress.  

"D'Soto" She said, pulling her chin up and straightening her shoulders. "Tertiary regional command advocate--" 

"Tertiary regional command…" Scorpius interrupted, his voice feigning a reflective tone. This was not new information for him either, but provoking her was irresistible at this point. 

Her mouth compressed into a thin white line. "Scorpius… You are to return to Peacekeeper held space immediately. My cruiser shall be at your base within the next solar day. I have been dispatched to claim personally… all information regarding the attack on the carrier Sano and foremost your research findings in the wormhole--" 

He waved a gloved hand dismissively and rose from his chair. "D'Soto… do you know why they sent you to me?" 

She tilted her head. "I do not question--." 

"They sent me… a flag officer … you, what is in essence a glorified sub-officer to whom I am to answer! Surely one as astute as yourself, D'Soto, would see the insult in that."  

"I do not question my duties." She repeated, each word protracted. "I merely carry them out." 

"Bravo, D'Soto." He grinned. "I do so look forward to our interview… in person." 

"I do not share your enthusiasm." She returned. Whatever unease he had seen displayed in her before had evaporated, exposing her crystalline veneer beneath. "I can assure you that--" 

He jabbed the comms closed before she could continue her petty arguments. Propping his slim, gloved fingers against each other, his rheumy eyes  focused on an imaginary corner. Beneath the calm surface, a fury had ignited. Worry, an unusual companion for him, tugged at his elbow. This one, D'Soto,  would not be dispatched as easily as her predecessors, he felt with a grim surety. 

Scorpius turned to his attendant. "I want a secure link to Braca immediately."

 # 

"I don't trust him." Alejanra D'Soto seethed the treasonous comment beneath her breath. She did not truly care that she was overheard by the others on the cramped command tier of the cruiser, T'Pau. She had no fear of speaking her mind, something that had granted her good fortune sometimes and near peril for the remainder. Had her conception and rearing not been specifically sanctioned to fill command ranks, her outspokenness would have no doubt shown her a swift end. 

However, there existed some small portion of her that sensed the importance of retaining a smooth veneer before the crew. It would not do to have her support staff witness her loss of control on her already infamous temper. 

Keeping one's wits. Swift and severe judgment in the time of strife. Control. Those were the qualities of a great commander. The qualities of leadership. These mantras of the Decca rang in her ears. Unfortunately she cared very little for the volume of platitudes. D'Soto knew what she truly wanted and fully intended to take the shortest route there: High Command. 

"He's a hybrid… something that should have never been suffered to live." Tugging her tunic into a sharp line, she turned from the dead eye of the comms. 

Her second was watching patiently from a respectable distance. Alejandra trusted Marna Vollis as much as she allowed herself to trust anyone. Vollis knew her place, unlike the remainder of the universe.  

"There are reasons we have the Purity Codes," D'Soto fumed.  "That… thing… is one of them!" 

Clearing her throat, Vollis nodded curtly. "You know the influence he has within sectors of Command. There is little--" 

"So what? So what of his wormhole research? Has he shown any results? The war against the Scarrans will be fought with weapons… not theories or conjecture." D'Soto turned and paced, her hands in tight fists behind her back. "Scarrans! And we trust a half-Scarran to the details of what could be the ultimate weapon in this conflict!"  

"What are you orders, sir?" Vollis prodded. She spared a glance at a tech who ventured too close. He immediately found more interesting work in another corner of the tier. 

"You are continuing on to meet with the monstrosity in my stead…" D'Soto said, stopping in her tracks. A sudden revelation unfolded before her. Dimly she felt embarrassed at not having seen the obvious much sooner.  

"Sir?" Vollis asked. The pitch in her voice seemed to increase. "Me?" 

"I'm paying a visit to Lt. Braca." D’Soto said coolly. "I want a team with me. Two techs. Four infantry. We shall see about this…  mission he was dispatched on." 

Marna blinked furiously for a moment. Apparently intimidating techs was a far more attractive option that facing Scorpius. "Yes… sir." 

 "I intend to show Scorpius he has chosen the wrong glorified sub officer to frell with." 

Asher stumbled back a step, hand rubbing disconsolately at his jaw. The spot where Ellie’s fist had landed was already forming a considerable welt. But he did nothing in retaliation. He had known she would react like this the moment he confessed about having possession of the spheroid. Actually the girl must have been weaker than she appeared, because he fully expected to be bleeding by now. 

You're fahrbot, Korbyn. He firmly agreed with himself before turning a crooked grin at her. "Nice left."  

"Shut up!" She barked, skewering him with those haunting pale green eyes. Ellie stalked the length of the runner. Hands balled into fists. Nostrils flaring, face flushed, she was a picture of indignant rage, ready to lash out at him again. Unpredictable and filled with fury. He realized at that moment by trying to save her, he had lost the prospect of ever winning her trust even if Northway's plan were to work. 

"This entire time! You had it!" She ranted, jabbing an accusatory finger at him. "And to think I… I… "  

The rest of her words turned into a growl as she lunged at him. This time he reacted, misjudging her strength. He undercut her weight with a sweep of his leg, grabbing her wrists as she fell. The girl landed on her back in a small drift of dust, Asher pinning her to the ground. 

"What did you honestly expect from me, Crichton?" He said, looking down at her. Asher straddled her torso and forced her hands back over her head. He added in a lower, more hesitant voice. "I didn't know… that this… that I’d feel like this--" 

"Let me go. Right frelling now!" She hissed, seeking to pull her arms free. It was apparent she would refuse to hear anything in her blind rage.  

He complied, falling back onto his haunches as she sat up, her face inches from his. Everything about her radiated a cheated fury. Her voice was low, full of acid for him. "Don't you ever touch me again. Ever." 

"You 'bout done? Both of you?" Northway finally broke her strange silence. Until then she had been sitting in the shade of the runner’s bulk, watching their escalating argument. Her entire attitude had been nonchalant, even as Ellie attacked him. She rose and came to stand over them.  

Panting with exertion, Ellie squinted up at the human. "Did you know?" 

"No. Ellie, I didn't know." Northway answered. She then fixed Korbyn with an accusatory stare that was somehow just as injurious as Ellie's fury. "But I'm not surprised." 

She looked back at the girl. She extended a hand to her. 

“Elle… your nose is bleeding. You’re exerting yourself too much.” Northway said, quietly. Her tone seemed sympathetic and patronizing at once. “Let’s give the angry white chick routine a rest, huh? What's done is done, girl.” 

Rachel glared at Asher once more, seeming to anticipate his next comment. His mouth snapped shut, cutting off the sarcastic remark that had indeed formulated. Instead he moved away from Ellie, and rose, brushing off the dust from his clothes. 

The girl finally took Northway's outstretched hand and was helped up. She cast Asher a sidelong glance as he lingered in the shade of gnarled tree. "Get out of my sight." 

"No." He heard Northway say. The woman looked up at him over Ellie’s shoulder. "We're gonna need him." 

"Like Hezmana." Ellie muttered.  

"You can hate his guts all you want, but the fact of the matter is we need him." 

The girl barked a curt laugh, glanced at Asher and then turned back to Northway. "Him? What for?" 

"We need a ship. Something rugged. Big. Ugly," Northway said.  She turned back to look into the girl's confused gaze.  "What do you call those ones… they look like an '88 Saab on steroids? Small crew. Armed up the whazoo..?"

"A marauder?" Asher ventured. He dared to take a step closer.

 "Ya… that's the kind." Northway said.

"For what?" Crichton demanded, confusion feeding her rage.

"You're not going to die, Ellie. Not today or next month or for a long time yet. I've got a plan."  

#

 "No. Please not like this." Ellie muttered under her breath. 

She stared at the propulsion paneling, brow furrowed. It was a simple task. But for the life of her she could not remember how to open the access panel. Panic seeped into her spine as she looked around at the neighboring consoles, the Ciax spheroid placed carefully at her side… anything that would jar her memory. Nothing. At the heels of the panic, came a dull cheated anger. There was no other explanation for it, she realized. The genetic degradation, not content to plague her body, had begun to attack her memory. 

If I am to die, so be it, she pleaded silently. But please… please not like this. Don't let it steal my mind. Please. 

Ellie fell back  on her haunches. Listlessly she dropped her hands back down to her sides. She leaned heavily against the bulkhead, pressing her face against the cool metal. She blinked away tears as she stared at the mocking panel door. The rage swelled. A green recruit. An infantry grunt. A drugged attendant could do this simple task. But Elenor Crichton could not. 

The cramped space seemed to press in around her. The air had grown stale and too warm inside the broken down excuse for a marauder Korbyn had brought them. Even now the drone of Northway and Korbyn bickering over the artificial brains of the autodoc swirled past her like the buzz of insects. 

She looked up at them. Their backs were to her as they huddled over the exposed innards of the mechanical beast, occasionally elbowing the other out of the way and exchanging insults. She drew in breath to call on them, but stopped. 

It would not do. Not at all. She will treat you like an invalid once more, force you to rest, inactive and useless.  And Korbyn? What glee would he take in pointing out your failings? What sarcastic ammunition would this provide him?  

Sliding further down the metal wall, she kept her hopeless vigil over her failing memory. At this angle she nearly reclined on the floor, peering uselessly up at the panel. That was when the blinking light caught the corner of her eye. 

She turned. There is was again. Her pale features pinched into a frown. The light came from the spheroid and it was something that should most definitely not be. Careful not to blink, she moved slowly toward it on hands and knees. 

There. Blink. Again. 

Nestled within the carriage surrounding the sphere a small red light winked dutifully.  

Avoiding the sphere’s surface, she wove her fingers into the frame and prodded at the strange discovery. The device was small, and would not have been noticed by anyone unfamiliar with the artifact. But to Ellie, it was alien to the surrounding components.  

“Oh frell.” 

It was a Peacekeeper homing beacon, rigged to destruct if removed. 

“Fabulous.” 

And it was activated. It meant only one possible thing. 

A retrieval squadron was on its way.

#

 "Ok. That doesn’t change anything." Rachel said, straightening. She folded her arms. "We go on as planned."

 Elenor blinked up at her. "Evidently you haven't heard a single word I've said. There is a retrieval squadron."

"Yup." Rachel nodded. 

Ellie continued: "On the way." 

"Yup." 

"Here." 

Rachel shook her head. She ticked of the points on the tips of her fingers. "A… I don't plan on us sticking around much longer. And two… let them follow us. " 

She watched Ellie exchange a glance with Korbyn over the wormhole device. They both blinked up at her. 

"No… It's perfect." Rachel regarded their silent stares. 

"Look…" She could almost see their morale fade and quickly scrambled to explain herself. "Scarrans and the Peackeepers are the two biggest kids on the block… just dying to knock the snot out of each other, right?" 

"Yes. Mortal enemies." This was from Korbyn. He seemed to jump slightly at the mention of the Godzilla beasties. "You didn't say anything about Scarrans, Northway." 

"Would you have helped us this far if I had?" 

There was no characteristic sarcastic response from Korbyn. He merely stared up at her. 

"Are you familiar with the Einstein-Rosen theory?" They continued to stare as she quickly spouted the theory of coordinating singularity events separated in space that generate wormholes,  identical but opposite inverse ionization inducement and threw in her own insights on the Kruskal-Szekeres equations for good measure.  

When Rachel finished she was greeted with silence. Looking down at their bleak stares she had the vague impression that should could have just as well recited her grandmother's recipe for chocolate chip cookies and received a similar reaction.  

She looked around the mute walls of the dry-docked marauder as if silently beseeching it for help. Rachel sighed and started once more.  "The area near the Scarran outpost is where we need to generate the wormhole that will get us to Earth." 

"Practically on top of a Scarran outpost…" Korbyn pointed out, apparently still obsessed with Scarrans.  

"Exactly."  

"If the retrieval squadron were to follow us in. The Scarrans would retaliate and be our diversion." Ellie explained, a dangerous smirk growing on her face. The return of vitality in the young woman's expression was heartening, but disquieting to see such eagerness for what basically amounted to a suicide run. 

"And what if your plan does not work." Korbyn frowned. 

"Like you've got anything better to do." 

Part 8

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