Part VI 

"Any ideas…" Aeryn murmured, sidling closer to John. She cast him a sidelong glance. They were being paraded down the corridor. Trooper at their backs. One leading the way. 

"Yes. All of them include not being here." John returned. He missed the glare she shot at him as he was jabbed in the back with the muzzle of a pulse rifle. 

"Quiet." The trooper grunted, his voice made tinny by the helmet's coms. 

They rounded another corner to yet another anonymous set of dark walls and soon halted before the entry to a level riser. The doors parted revealing a trooper, smartgun hoisted at the hip. His face was obscured by the helmet's visor. He stepped out, barring their path. 

"Jesus. Are you guys union or what?" John said over his shoulder to his keeper. 

"Identification. This is Velka squad's patrol." The guard behind Aeryn demanded of the newcomer. She tensed, realizing that neither of their captors had requested additional personnel since she and John were apprehended. In fact, the entire level had been deserted. 

"Transferred from Ketz squad… to make up for the Velka squad casualties." The smart-gunner explained. The helmeted head bobbed casually. The visor remained down. 

Behind their backs, the two trooper's helmeted heads turned to face each other. Then back to the gunner.  

"What casualties?" They said. 

Wordlessly, the gunner opened fire.  

What came next was slow motion chaos.  

Aeryn had been prepared to move, but was surprised by the apparent ambush.  

Save time later to be grateful. Move! Aeryn reacted swiftly, diving back into the relative safety of the corridor. She hit the deck with a wounded thud. Her shoulder collided with the ridge of a bulkhead. The pain was distant. 

John? She whipped her head about as she regained her feet. There! John was down. Not injured. Seeking cover. As if sensing her thoughts, he met her eyes across the passage. The battle played out to vicious finality in the space between. The second guard managed to fire. It went wild, hitting a bulkhead. Another round came from the smart-gun. All was still. Eyes wide she looked up from the slain guards to their apparent savior. 

His bulky frame stopped to examine the two fallen guards, his back to Aeryn. Far too trusting. There was a low pitched whine as the smart gun powered down. The gloved hands pulled at the seals to the helmet and flipped its visor up.  

Asher Korbyn smirked at her, wordlessly. His expression bordered on relief. You are misguided as well… 

"You…" She said. Her eyes narrowed. 

"Ya. Me."  

The reality of the past few seconds crashed in around her. He had lowered the weapon straight at her. In the line of fire… if he had been one microt faster, or she one microt too slow… 

Her face crumpled in to a ferocious scowl. Aeryn launched at Korbyn. He stumbled back, surprised, tripping over the legs of one of the fallen troopers. Kneeling, on his chest, Aeryn grabbed the rigid collar of his armor. Her forearm pressed into the flesh of his throat.  

"Are you mentally damaged?" She yelled down at him. "You could have killed one of us… both of us!" 

"You're welcome." Asher grimaced. An infuriating flicker of amusement came to his face.  

She sensed John approach at her back. His hands landed on her shoulders, pulling her away.  

"Come on, Aeryn. Save something for the rest of us to kill."  

Grudgingly, she moved away with a snarl of disgust. "Why bother?"  

John leaned over him, hands planted on his knees. He extended a hand to help him up. Asher rose without taking the offered hand. The bulky armor although light made it a hassle. He straightened, casting a wary eye on Aeryn as she checked the two troopers. John placed a hand on his shoulder, snapping his attention back. 

"You ok there, hot shot?" John asked, voice low. He feigned a conspirator's grin at Asher. He patted one armor covered shoulder. The chummy smile still plastered into place. "Nothing broken?" 

Asher felt the skin of his scalp tighten. "Just fine." 

"Good. Remember that." He grabbed Asher by the collar, shoving him back into the wall. A pulse gun was pressed against his throat like some grim conjurer's trick. "For a point of comparison." 

"What the frell! I just saved your lives." 

"That was your second mistake." John seethed. A mad glee filled his red rimmed eyes. "Ask me what you first mistake was." 

The pulse gun pushed harder. Asher croaked. "What… was my first mistake?" 

"Taking my daughter here. Now… I have seen some frelled-in-the-head excuses for plans… Hell… I'll admit that I've come up with most of them…." He jerked his chin at Aeryn. His eyes never left Asher. "Isn't that so?" 

"Pretty much. Yes." Her answer was a little too swift. 

"But I have to admit… this is by far… the worst kick-you-in-the-groin-spit-on-your-neck stupid plan… ever! It's the classic one… the one called let's play pretend Peacekeepers and go on a field trip to a high-tech high-security installation." 

"Actually… " Aeryn began.  

"Not now, Aeryn." John returned. He leaned closer. "I want to know where my daughter is." 

# 

Rhen Purvis had envisioned his career within the Peacekeepers ending in many ways. This was not one of them. With a low groan of disbelief, he ran his hands over his face, massaging his closed eyelids, as if trying to change the view when he opened his eyes. 

The trick didn't work this time either.  

The view was the same, great rusted metal lattice of the retaining cell.  

"I am so frelled." 

The cell's other occupant grumbled. It was half apology, half agreement. Either way, it made Rhen feel no better. He looked along the cell’s bench, the single amenity to the place. Consultant Knox sat in much the same position, as if it were standard recourse for any prisoner, head cast down, elbows on knees as he stared uselessly at the bars. 

"What do think they'll do?" Knox questioned, still staring flatly ahead. 

"To me?" Rhen swallowed. The hair along his arms stood on end. He had spent the past arn successfully trying not to consider specific punishments.  

"I'm sorry I got you into this, Purvis." 

"Knox?" He looked at him. "That is your real name, isn't it?" 

"Only my coach called me that… but sure."  

"They say you're not Sebacean." 

"No. I'm not." Knox regarded him. "Would that have made a difference… I mean in whether you would have helped me or not?" 

Rhen drew his eyebrows up, mouth pulled down into a thoughtful pout. He drew in a breath, paused. "No. I suppose it would not." 

This strange man had saved his life on two occasions. He now knew the truth about Consultant Knox and that he was no more Sebacean than the dark skinned woman called Northway. Nonetheless Knox was of all things… an ally.  

In the distance there was the rattle of metal and the electric complaint of a disengaged force field. It was thunderous in the cavernous place. Soon it was followed by the sound of booted feet.  

"Company." Knox pushed himself off the bench at the approach of the two heavily armed troopers, a mass of gleaming armor in the low light. 

As they neared, Rhen could tell that there was something wrong. These two guards moved without design, as if lost. One of them looked behind them frequently, pausing to peer into other holding cells as they passed. The two rounded the bend and nearly passed their cell completely.  

"Over here!" One of the troopers reappeared at the gate, soon joined by his partner.  

"What is it with you, son?" Focused on Knox, the darkened visor revealed no clue as to the face beneath. The voice carried by the helmet's coms was flat, unmarred by a Sebacean accent. “I can’t leave you alone for five minutes.” 

Rhen and Knox exchanged a glance. A faint smile curled Knox's mouth. He turned back to the trooper. "Excuse me?" 

Gloved hands moved inexpertly under the seal of the trooper's helmet. Finally the equipment came away to clatter to the deck.  

Rhen had never seen the man on station before, but Knox immediately reached through the bars to him. Their laughter bounced against the grimy rusted cell walls, a brilliant counterpoint.  

The newcomer grinned. "DK, you got a lot of 'splainin' to do…"  

# 

The armor was heavy and restrictive, wrapped around her body, but it was not something she would classify as a burden. She was vaguely aware of the scent of the former occupant's blood, but to say that it detracted from the sense of power the gear bestowed was wrong. If anything, to feel this comforting weight against her frame was to feel the embrace of someone long gone. If she were to pause in her mission, she could name this phantom; it was the Aeryn Sun that had been a Peacekeeper. But that soldier was no more. And the remembrance of her produced that same niggling ache in the space below her heart. It lingered there now with that dull flat dread that always accompanied her worry for John. 

Aqua eyes veiled by the scrim of the lowered visor, she surveyed the faces of those she passed in the halls of the installation. The place was literally infested with techs, eyes cast downward. None dared to look up at her. They gave her a wide berth regardless of the cramped confines of the halls used to cowering beneath the petty torments of troopers and infantry. 

She moved with the feigned authority of the stolen uniform, maneuvering into the medical detention level. According to the station's access interface that was where they were keeping the girl. The area's name in itself was ignominious, but Aeryn knew better. It would be best if John did not know. It was best if her father did not see…  

# 

… before the next shift… I mean… look at her… 

what about her? she's half dead… where's the sport in that… 

who said anything about sport… 

The voices were dark shapes darting through pitch black water. She was beyond caring, unwilling to interpret the meaning exchanged by the two men. Ellie was left with the vague impression of their menacing nature. More sounds in the room pulled her further from the deep warm mire. Grudgingly she left its embrace, all too aware of the greedy pain seeping in to replace it.  

The echoes were different than the holding cell. The light blazed beyond the lowered scrim of her eyelids. The cold air was laced with the smell of chemicals and astringents. Her aching spine complained of the harsh metal table. Even without the restraints, her arms and legs were useless lazy things. Why did they even bother? All were sensations ripped from childhood memory. Her stomach constricted in to a flat knot. Sweat broke out on her skin. This was a medical bay.  

There was the creak of leather followed by the scrape of heavy boots over the tiles. She did not open her eyes as she sensed the guard's approach. 

"What are you doing?" A third, new voice demanded. Feminine and damning, it was carved by the electric crackle of a comms. Another trooper. 

There was an answering turmoil of sound. Leather. The turn of booted heels snapping to attention. The burning silence of badly hidden guilt.  

"Sir!" 

"I asked you a question." 

A pause followed by anxious shifting. "We were--" 

"Risking charges of Contamination… You're relieved!" 

Grudging footfalls that faded with distance. More quiet followed. But of the suspicious variety. The snick of the door sealing on its tracks.  

Ellie startled at the sensation of a cool touch against her feverish face. The hand was slender, palm calloused. Briefly her eyelids rolled open, only to flutter shut. She saw nothing of the newcomer, only the baleful glare of lights. There was a painful twinge at her arms as nimble fingers removed the needles. The restraints snapped open, the metal staccato sounds were raw on the cold air. 

"Can you hear me?" The same feminine voice, filled with quiet concern. 

Words snagged on a raw swollen throat. With great effort, she opened her eyes and squinted into the white glare. The dark shape moved over her. Focus sharpened. She saw only heavily armored shoulders and gauntlet covered arms.  

"No!"  

Panic jolted every fiber. With sudden ferocity, Elenor pushed away from the table. She threw her weight into the trooper, but her exhausted body would not tolerate it. Instead she rebounded from the armored body, slid down the lip of the bed, scraping the small of her back on its sharp edge. Limbs akimbo, she collapsed onto the floor. 

Rough hands gathered her up at the shoulders. "It's me!" 

Franticly, she thrashed until her hands were captured at the wrists. The woman stooped over her. "Listen to me! It's alright." 

"Mother?" Elenor blinked at the surreal vision of Aeryn Sun, dressed in the black armor of an infantry sergeant. "How?" 

Aeryn looked at her, face etched with alien worry. She spoke slowly, careful to meet her gaze. "What did they do?"  

"Nuh-nothing. That he didn't do before." She said, her remaining control evaporating. Her throat threatened to close entirely. The damning tears were not far behind. Don't let her see. Don't cry like a child in front of her… of all people. 

"Elenor… who?" Aeryn shook her shoulders slightly. 

A ragged curse. "Scorpius." 

“Is he here?" 

"Yes."

# 

Arms folded across a dead soldier's pulse rifle, Asher leaned against one of the towering support frames in the generator room. The hateful helmet for the moment was cast aside. The heavy armor was partially undone. Its former occupant had been a bit smaller; the hidden clasps to the shoulder harness barely met. The outfit was a hateful reminder of the life he had escaped so long ago. But at the moment he was considering other irritants: namely Commander Crichton. 

Self-assured bastard. Take away that pulse rifle and we'll see if you've still got brass mivonks …. No one held a pulse gun on Asher Korbyn. No one.  

Distractedly, he chewed on the inside of his mouth, bringing blood. He felt no pain. His thoughts were filled with poison. People had done lesser things and now walked with severe limps. If it were not for the fact that Crichton was Elle's father… 

Through half-lidded eyes he had watched the two humans trade stories that were completely devoid of interest to him. Their excited chatter was nonsense babble. At least the tech they had dragged along possessed the sense to stay quiet.  

They were wasting time with useless talking. Whatever plan they launched was doomed to failure, it was a Crichton standard, one he was not going to be damned to observe first hand. Asher Korbyn made his own plans. And now he had two priorities: himself and Elle. 

Frell this. Asher fastened the clips to the chest harness, grunting at the renewed restriction. He straightened, shouldering the rifle.  

"… as soon as we hear that Aeryn's found her. Korbyn… where do you think you're going?" Crichton broke off his chatter mid-sentence. 

"Medical detention." Asher said.  

"Like hell you are. We agreed. Aeryn's--" 

"I didn't agree. You're not doing dren… sitting around… hiding here." He turned dark, narrowed eyes onto the human.  

John stepped closer, hands on his hips. He uttered a derisive laugh. "Little late to start being a hero, ain't it, buddy?" 

"Frell off, Crichton! If it weren't for me you'd be sitting in one of those detention cells." Asher whirled, instantly thundering toward the human. He shoved him back. 

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be on this fucking station." John countered, pointing an accusatory finger into Asher's chest armor.  

"That's it." Asher seethed. His hands wrapped around Crichton's oversized armor, pulling and turning. The human was too slow, too surprised to maneuver out of the way. Crichton's back collided with the wall. 

"Hey, guys. Come on." Knox mewled. He planted a hand on Asher's shoulder. Before he could emit another protest, he was shoved away without a backwards glance. 

Crichton took the advantage of the brief distraction to drive his knee up and into his gut. The pain was muffled by the armor, but enough to make Asher release his grip in reflex. Leverage compromised, he countered with a swing meant to be devastating. Crichton ducked the blow, but was not clever enough to dodge the accompanying upper cut. He heard a satisfying grunt and click of teeth.  

Crichton staggered back, wiping blood across his mouth. He glared at Asher. "You think I'm gonna let you even look at my daughter again… you got another thing comin'." 

"Who's going to stop me?" He circled, barely winded by the clash. "Better yet… stop her?" 

"I'll do what I have to." Subtly Crichton's hands moved over the holstered pulse gun. 

"Take your shot." Asher said, arms outstretched in a taunting invitation. He laughed, full of ridicule. "The infamous John Crichton! If they only frelling knew! Your woman's not here to talk you out of it. Elle's not here. Come on…" 

"When this is over…" 

"When this is over, Crichton… you'll be lucky to see Elle in one piece. There's no telling what Scorpius has done to her. 

"What'd you just say?" John's attention was snagged by a single word. His scowl dissolved into surprise. 

"Oh? Did I forget to tell you, Crichton?" Asher feigned astonishment. "Scorpius is here. On this base. Right now." 

"Son of a bitch!" John bellowed. "You knew! Why didn't you say something!" 

"Funny what a man forgets when a pulse gun's shoved in his face." 

"John… " Knox's quiet voice sounded. "Chill out."

"You knew Scorpius was here?" He looked at Knox, incredulous. A strangled betrayal filled his voice. 

"I was getting to that part." Knox returned.  

"We've got to warn Aeryn." John said. He jabbed a finger at the tech. "You! Get me a comms to Aeryn. Make damn sure they can't pick it up. String two tin cans together. I don't care!" 

John turned back to Asher. "If anything happens to Aeryn or Ellie, you're a dead man." 

But Asher had gone.

# 

Elenor slumped against the lip of the table, unwilling to sit on it, but too weak to stand on her own power. The girl was in no shape for this. But she had little choice. Aeryn took in the sinister gleaming metal surfaces of the medical suite.  

For the moment her guise to fool two inept guards had worked. It was blind luck the armor that fit her best was from the sergeant. She had caught the two men on the verge of some guilty act. They were unlikely to mention Aeryn's intrusion and risk punishment, but she and Elenor could not remain here too much longer. She had no idea when their true relief would return. 

Aeryn strode to the long row of metal and glass cylinders decorating one wall. She quickly surveyed them until she found the one she wanted. The small vial of amber color liquid was unmistakable. Neurtox. It was a stimulant given to the badly injured. And a substance of such a powerful nature, it was often traded on black markets. Although she had never been given the substance herself, Aeryn had seen it used. The effects were not exactly miraculous, but they were low on options. 

She returned to Elenor's side. The girl had given up trying to stand and now was completely hunched over the edge of the waist high table.  

Aeryn silently commanded her hands not to quake as she filled the injector. How much was enough? What would too much do? I'm no frelling medic.  

"Elenor." Aeryn said. She drew the wild mane of hair away from the girl's pallid face. There was an answering grunt. 

"I've found some meds. Neurtox. It will help you." 

"Neurtox?" Her head moved slightly. Then slowly rolled from side to side in denial. "No. I can't-- no."

"Listen, you have--" 

She slapped the syringe away with sudden ferocity. Elenor drew her self up and took a wavering step back. "I can't… can't chance it." 

"Fine. Your choice." Aeryn said flatly, turning away.  

Her patience was spent. For whatever strange compassion she felt for this miserable creature, Aeryn had her own limits. Frailty and weakness were traits as a Peacekeeper she had been trained to view as repugnant. Now this girl-child who claimed to possess her same blood was shameful vision of it.  

Helmet sealed back into place, she flipped the visor down. "Now. Listen to me. We are leaving. You have to keep up with me. You cannot draw attention to yourself. Do not look at anyone. Do not speak. Keep your head lowered. You are to behave as a prisoner. Am I understood?" 

Elenor made a visible attempt to stand at attention and settled for a weary slouch. She drew her chin up. "Yes, sir." 

“Aeryn!” Her coms erupted with John's voice.  

Frell. Early. They were early. “John. I've located Elenor. She is alive, but badly injured. There's more… Scorpius—“  

"Is here. Ya… I know." There was a pause. Then: “Change of plan. Get a ship and get out of here.” 

"No. We can't do that." Elenor protested.  

"What about you and the others?" Aeryn held up a silencing hand to the girl. 

"We'll catch up with you." 

A missing runner would put the station on alert. Even if they did manage to maneuver back through the hole in the security grid. It would make things that much more difficult for them to escape.  

"John. Are you certain?" 

"Ain't nothing for certain, baby." 

The coms went silent. 

#

"I had expected you to be taller…" Rachel folded her arms, feet planted squarely as she regarded the nightmare vision that had just sauntered into the room. A brave stance, like the heroine from the cover of a comic book, but hardly descriptive of the way she felt. 

Douglas… where the hell is Douglas? He was to have returned from the hangar hours ago, but as the time drew on the sharp-toothed dread burrowed further into her core. The door to the chamber had finally parted revealing not DK, but this wax museum monstrosity.  

Scorpius canted his head, fixing her with a nearly reptilian stare. Her college roommate kept an iguana as a pet. The thing gave Rachel the creeps. The way it would crunch crickets' tiny insect bodies, jaw rolling with cold machine precision, its eyes fixed with that same sated stare. Munch… munch… munch.  

Rachel shivered. 

"Expectations." He paused, clasping his hands at his back. "Blind us to the true nature of things. They result in irrational conclusions." 

"And you do a lame Spock impersonation too." Rachel muttered. 

Scorpius's face split into a grin, seemingly more amused by an internal observation than her comment. "I am aware of what you are… who you are, Dr. Northway. You remain under my protection because you are alien… different." 

"Protection? Let me guess… you’re here now to play let’s make a deal?" 

"No more deals. No more feigned promises. Only demands. And now I demand your cooperation." Scorpius said. "I am aware that you and Dr. Knox tried to enlist the conspiracy of his technicians. And that plan has failed.” 

“Where is he, asshole?” Ice flooded her heart. 

“In custody. I assure you he has not been harmed.” He glided closer, moving with considerable grace irregardless of his hideous appearance.   

"If you think threatening me or Douglas is going to cut it, guess again, buddy." Rachel returned. A strange numbness claimed her. Who said that? It was as if someone else were using her voice. A stranger capable of far more bravery than she.  

"We are both…  enlightened… individuals." He made a nebulous conjuring gesture, as if hesitant to apply the term to her. Slowly he turned his back to her as he surveyed the view from the room’s single portal. It was as if he were inviting an attack. Rachel immediately dismissed the thought. She was no soldier. "We both detest pointless violence. However--" 

"You will use it to get what you want." 

"Something… no doubt… our mutual acquaintance would agree to as well." Scorpius pivoted to face her. 

Wordlessly, Rachel looked at him, feeling the tiny hairs along the back of her neck stand on end. Somehow she sensed he was no longer talking about Douglas. Icy fingers played along her spine. Ellie… 

"Who could he mean?" He mocked, hands clasped together in joyless applause. 

"I have no clue." It was the sound of a rusty hinge.  

"Your species is horrible at concealing falsehoods." Any trace of the feigned levity evaporated from his expression. "I mean Crichton's daughter." 

Rachel stepped forward, hands balling into fists. "You touch a single hair on her head and so help me—“ 

“You and she have shared quite the adventure, haven't you? I have to admit I was skeptical at first, but I have seen enough of her memories to know that her identity, however incredible the circumstances, is real. She possesses vast potential—“ 

“You wouldn't be telling me this if you didn't want something else? What?” Rachel swallowed. Her brain raced, plodding through every possibility, finding none. 

“As I’ve said, Northway, cooperation.”

Part 7

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