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Part
I
"Come
on, Crichton! Hurry up!" Aeryn barked as the pair made their way
through the corridors of the massive PeaceKeeper Command Carrier.
He had done it again. Why didn't any of them understand how easy it was
to get separated and lost in the vast crowds of a Commerce Planet? These
places were worse than a flea market on a Saturday. Of course, it was
just his luck that this particular planet sheltered not only a swarm of
bargain-hunting shoppers, but a PeaceKeeper installation to boot. And
being Crichton, he had turned the wrong corner and found his way right
smack dab in the center of a troop’s briefing. He had barely been able
to get an alarm off to the others before the inevitable fight started
and within microts the butt of a pulse rifle had bashed him to
unconsciousness.
He awoke en route to Crais’ Command Carrier. Judging from the
conversation of his captors, his panicked message had gotten through and
Aeryn had followed in her Prowler. He had listened in horror as the
enemy Prowlers intercepted her. When they reported having driven her
off, John sighed with relief, and a resigned sadness. What he hadn’t
known then was that Aeryn had managed to take out one Prowler and take
its place, allowing her to infiltrate the ship concealed by her old
flight suit and helmet. Catching up with the squad onboard, Aeryn had
taken out his escorts with as much secrecy as she was capable of.
They had barely started the long trek to the docking bay when the alarms
started blaring.
"We'll take a shortcut through the medical bay."
"How do you know it's this way?" John asked, not overly
confident in her plan.
"All Command Carriers are built in the same layout. It allows newly
transferred troops to adapt quicker and cuts down on confusion."
John
could see the benefits inherent in that, as well as a few disadvantages,
but knew better than to bring them up at the moment. Instead, he focused
his attention on keeping up with Aeryn and not being seen.
With only a brief firefight, they managed to get to the medical bay in
one piece. The large main chamber was mostly empty with only a few
sedated patients and some medtechs, none of whom were about to question
an armed soldier running through.
"There is a less-used exit in the back," Aeryn said, guiding
Crichton towards it. "Through the lab and past quarantine."
John didn’t like what he saw coming. "What are you gonna be
doing?"
"Providing
cover fire,” she answered briskly.
Sure enough, the main door was already swishing open, a sound more
ominous than it had ever seemed on Star Trek.
"There's no way I'm going without you!" he argued.
"Get to the exit," Aeryn ordered in full soldier mode.
"I'll join you in a microt." She emphasized the command by
shoving him toward the lab.
Though he hated leaving her behind to face the PeaceKeepers alone, John
was not about to chance questioning her when she was armed. He ran
through the lab, trying not to bump too many things over, not knowing
what might contain a virus or flesh-eating bacteria.
He passed through the door leading out of the lab and found himself in a
stark white hallway. On either side were plate glass windows showing
Sebaceans hooked up to a variety of machines. One lay in what appeared
to be an iron lung. It reminded him of the ICU his mother had been
admitted to shortly before her death. He moved faster.
A
door was open down the hall. Alien or not, that seemed unusual in a
quarantine area. Knowing Aeryn would probably kill him for wasting time,
Crichton approached it cautiously and peeked in. Several beds were lined
along the walls of the room like a barracks. Only one was occupied. The
little being rolled over and opened its eyes. A Sebacean girl who looked
about the Human age of six, she had wavy blond hair cut very short and
intelligent green eyes. She sat up, frowning.
"Who are you?"
John hesitated. His first impulse was to reassure her that he meant no
harm, but the past few months had taught him not to take anything for
granted. The kid was a PeaceKeeper and was probably trained to turn in
anyone she saw as a threat.
He was saved from having to figure it out when Aeryn ran into the
hallway. As a partition closed behind her, segmenting off their part of
the corridor, she shot the locks, jamming it. There were sounds of
pounding and yells on the other side as their pursuers caught up.
Aeryn walked backward to his side, never taking her sights from the
door. "That will slow them down, but not for long. We need to get
out of here."
All of the commotion had caught the little girl's attention. She had
come over to the door, looking at Aeryn's uniform.
"Officer, what is going on?"
Aeryn glanced away long enough to acknowledge the girl. "Cadet,
what are you doing in here?"
Calling a kid by military rank still rang wrong in John’s ear, but he
said nothing.
"The instructor brought me here after I collapsed in combat
training."
John
could hold his tongue no longer. “They work you till you drop?!”
The child looked at him curiously, as if any idiot should know the
answer to that. Aeryn, for her part, was focused more on the buckling
door than the girl. "Well, just get some rest and fluids, then you
can return to the other cadets." She began nudging Crichton towards
the exit. “The door won’t hold for long, Crichton,” she told him
quietly. “We should go now.”
"No, I can't,” came the soft voice.
Aeryn stopped and stared at the child. “What?”
“I
can’t return to my unit.”
“Why
not?” John asked. Aeryn shot him a venomous look and glanced
impatiently at the buckling door.
"I don't know, sir. The medtechs said I was to remain here. They
said I was a Defective."
"Defective?" John asked. "What does that mean,
Aeryn?"
When he got no answer, he turned and realized Aeryn had gone still and
silent. “Aeryn?”
Peering
through the tinted visor of her helmet, he saw her eyes had taken on a
strange, distant look. Worry rose in him. He shook her shoulder,
probably was not the wisest thing to do to a distracted soldier, and
said loudly, "Aeryn!"
She snapped out of it. "Sorry,” she said in a softer voice than
he was used to hearing from her. That only accentuated his concern.
"What is it? What's wrong?" 
"Later." She addressed the child, who seemed to be used to
overhearing conversations she had no part in. "Cadet, you are to
come with me. Can you run?"
"Not well, ma’am."
"Fine. Crichton, carry her."
”Wha-? Hold on. We’re taking her? Is that a good idea? What if
she’s on some kind of life support here?”
“Crichton.”
John
sighed. “Never could stand up to a woman…” he muttered. “Well,
come on, kiddo. Hop on.”
She
seemed unable to grasp the idea of a piggyback ride, so he scooped her
up with her legs around his waist and hurried after Aeryn, who actually
was waiting for him.
It
felt good to have a kid in his arms. Her soft hair brushed across his
neck and he could feel her heart beating against his chest. His heart
ached with that old homesickness that had been tailing him like a
buzzard since he wound up in the UT. If he had been back home, he
probably would still be baby-sitting his little cousins. His sisters had
probably found new sitters by now.
He shook off such depressing thoughts. "Where to, Aeryn?"
"The Prowler, of course. Follow me."
The door was giving
under persuasion from the PeaceKeeper equivalent of an oxy-fuel torch.
The trio set off at a run. Crichton was glad Aeryn knew her way around
as he never would have known how to get to the hangers. He half expected
a minotaur to loom around each corner.
At last, they burst through a door that revealed dozens of Prowlers
perched side by side, like cloned birds. Somehow, Aeryn identified hers
and had it powered up by the time the PeaceKeepers reached the hanger.
Their shots had little effect on the Prowler's shielded hull, but Aeryn
got space borne as soon as she could, just to be sure.
As they blasted out of the bay, John kept craning his head around,
checking for the sleek enemy fighters he was sure would follow.
In his lap, the little girl squirmed. "Officer, where are we going?
Why are those soldiers chasing us?"
"I'm taking you to a new medical facility that can better care for
your condition. The soldiers are a longer story for another time."
"Yes, ma’am."
Aeryn turned on the comm to Moya, who lay before them like a whale
petted by King Midas. "D'Argo, Zhaan, are you there?"
"It's about time!" Rygel answered. "Do you have any idea
how long we've been dodging Marauders out here?"
Zhaan broke in. "Aeryn, do you have Crichton?"
"Yes, he's fine.” A proximity sensor flashed on her dashboard.
“I've picked up a squadron of Prowlers, though. I'm coming in fast.
Have the Docking Bay doors open and be ready to StarBurst
immediately!"
Aeryn shut down the comm and did a quick barrel roll to avoid a volley
of shots from the head Prowler. She dodged several more shots while
making a swooping curve to line up with Moya's open Docking Bay.
"Hold on," she warned Crichton and the child.
Shooting through the tunnel into Moya's hanger, Aeryn struggled to
decelerate. Her jaw clenched as her vision narrowed to the tunnel before
her.
Crichton looked back, relieved to see that the other Prowlers had
overshot and the doors were closing behind them. His stomach
flopped when he saw how quickly the tunnel would end.
Aeryn had managed to cut their speed some, but John could tell it wasn't
enough. The room around them widened abruptly into the main Docking Bay.
Just as Aeryn got their speed down to a decent level, Moya StarBurst.
Aeryn issued a choice word in Sebacean and struggled to compensate for
the sudden acceleration without driving herself into the front wall. Her
intense training carrying her through, she touched the Prowler down,
braking hard. The fighter slid sideways across the bay before grating to
a stop only two feet from the Farscape 1.
Aeryn popped the hatch on the cockpit and climbed out, removing her
helmet. John needed a moment to catch his breath, as the little girl
seemed to as well. He noticed at last that Aeryn was waiting. She gave
him a hand getting himself and the girl out, then looked at the scrape
her Prowler's reentry had left on the floor. Wincing sympathetically,
she whispered. "Sorry, Moya."
Three DRDs skated past
her legs and began buffing the marring away. One turned an eyestalk on
her and the two on the Prowler, then returned to its work. Pilot and
Moya knew they had made it safely.
Crichton, still holding the girl tightly, checked the distance between
her ship and his precious module. He whistled softly.
"You parked a bit over the line there, but I'm not gonna argue with
results."
The child looked around. "Where are we?"
"On a Leviathan," Aeryn informed her. "Most of its kind
serve as transports for the PeaceKeepers. I doubt you've studied them
yet."
Crichton noticed that she did not mention that Moya was now liberated.
D'Argo commed them. "Aeryn, Crichton, we're in the clear. The
PeaceKeepers haven't followed."
"Good. Have Zhaan ready the Apothecary. We have a patient."
John could almost hear
D'Argo frown. "I thought you said you and Crichton were
alright."
"We are. I'll explain when we arrive." She turned to John.
"Bring her. Cadet, we're going to have our medic examine you. Be
good and let her do what she must."

"Of course, ma’am."
The child seemed alright with being on a foreign ship, particularly
fascinated by the DRDs that scurried about underfoot. Her attitude
changed when they reached the Apothecary, where the rest of the crew had
gathered.
"Non-Sebaceans!" she gasped, squirming fearfully in John's
grip.
Everyone alerted at the presence of the young PeaceKeeper.
D'Argo looked at John, exasperated. "Don't tell me you Irreversibly
Contaminated another one."
"Hey!" Crichton said defensively.
"Actually, it was my idea," Aeryn spoke up, evoking looks of
surprise from the others. "This is Cadet..." She glanced at
the girl.
"Neesha Raez," she supplied.
"Cadet Raez. Zhaan, she requires your medical expertise."
"Of course. Put her on the table, John."
He felt the pinch of tiny nails on his chest and knew the little girl
had gotten a death grip on his shirt. "Uh, I don't think that's
gonna happen." His babysitting experience suggested that he would
probably have to surrender his shirt before Neesha would get on that
table. No kid took well to doctor's appointments.
Aeryn pried Neesha's fingers loose. "Come on. Didn't I tell you to
behave for Zhaan, hmm?"
"But she's an inferior species!" Neesha protested.
"No, she's not." Aeryn crouched to the girl's level. "I
know your instructor has taught you to hate and fear non-Sebaceans, but
he was wrong. Out in the real galaxy, you have to work with all kinds of
people, and you can learn a great deal from that. Zhaan is very
qualified to treat you. A few monens ago, she saved me from brush with
the Living Death."
Neesha's eyes widened. "She did?”
"Mm-hmm. And everyone here helped too. They saved my life that
day." She left out that saving her had probably been just an added
perk to saving themselves and Moya.
Crichton joined them. "I know the idea of being probed by an alien
is scary, but Zhaan knows what she's doing. You willing to give her a
chance?"
Neesha looked from Crichton to Aeryn to Zhaan, then said,
"Okay."
"Good choice, Cadet." Aeryn hoisted the child onto the
examination table. "Now, sit still and let Zhaan do her job."
"Yes, Officer."
Zhaan approached with her equipment. As she passed Crichton, she
whispered, "By the way, John, I do not probe, I scan."
"Sorry." He grinned and moved out of the way.
While Zhaan examined Neesha, the others retreated to a far corner.
Neesha was very patient, though her eyes kept darting nervously to Rygel
and D'Argo and seeking out Aeryn, who offered reassuring nods.
"You handled that well," D'Argo said to Aeryn.
"Yeah," John pitched in. "Who knew the bad-ass
PeaceKeeper had a soft spot for children?"
"Well I was one once," she snapped. "I haven't forgotten
what it's like."
Crichton and D'Argo exchanged a look behind her back.
Zhaan finished her scan and smiled at Neesha. "All done. You were
very good. Just let me speak with the other adults while I get the
results."
Crichton marveled at how quietly Neesha sat as Zhaan left. Most kids
would have been fidgeting or kicking their feet when left with nothing
to do, but she sat calmly, content to look around the room.
The Delvian glided over to her friends, not smiling. "I'm afraid
she is not well," she said softly. "There is fluid in her
lungs. Although the amount isn't overly harmful, it likely compromises
her breathing under physically stressful circumstances."
"So she's got the Sebacean version of Cystic Fibrosis?"
Crichton asked.
Zhaan pondered the translation of that. "I suppose that is
appropriate."
"Is there anything you can do?" Aeryn asked.
"I can attempt to drain the fluid, but there is no long-term
solution. A cure has not yet been found for the disease causing
it."
"Disease?!" Rygel scooted away from Aeryn and John.
"It is genetic," Zhaan assured him. "She cannot spread it
to you."
"So, if you can't heal her..." John asked.
Zhaan met their eyes sadly. "She will eventually die."

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