Serendipity and Procrustes -- Chapter 5: Warrior's Mood

          Crais tried to keep his distance from the woman. On a ship this small it was a difficult task. It was obvious she sensed a breech between them, but she had not approached him about it.

          She'd changed as well, but he was far too ignorant of humans to even guess what ailed her. She lacked stamina in their workouts and was not eating. Her face seemed constantly flushed and she had actually come to him the previous day requesting pain medication. It had been months since she shed the Hecho from her system. She would not admit specifically where the pain was located and he did not press her further.
          He stood alone on Talyn's command staring out at the golden light from a nebula. A single disconcerting thought troubled him. What if she was to fall ill? Would he be able to help her? Would a Sebacean physician? In his months of dreading her presence he realized with discomfort he would feel her loss. There were a million reasons to wish for her departure. What reason could he name for wanting her to remain?
          Talyn trilled a subtle reminder to him and he shook himself out of such thoughts.
          "I know, Talyn," he smiled as he walked into the center circle. "I promised."
          He instructed the Gunship to come about and make best speed for the asteroid field they had mapped the day before. They hadn't scanned another ship for over a month. It seemed a safe time and place. To settle his own nerves and satisfy his ship's instinctive need to fire his weapons, Crais promised Talyn a few rounds of target practice in the isolated field.
          "Standard heading, Talyn" he instructed as the Gunship stopped at the outskirts of the field. "Narrow range to start, end your run in 9 microts."
          Talyn's main cannon hummed as it charged. He could sense the power of it through their link and felt exhilarated. The very deck beneath his feet vibrated with the explosion as the cannon's beam arced outward. The first series of small asteroids splintered outward as Talyn swept over them at high speed. The next one, slightly larger than the first few, must have had a miniscule atmosphere. It erupted into flames before shattering at the end of Talyn's pulse beam.
          "Outstanding, Talyn!" Crais exulted as the Gunship swung wide to return to his starting position. "You are magnificent."
         "What's going on?" Senna asked from the portal. "Are we under attack?"
          Crais turned to look at her and was startled by her appearance. She was bright red in the face, her eyes nearly swollen shut and her hair hung in wet strings around her face. She was burning up.
          "Are you not well?" he asked feeling obtuse. She was obviously quite unwell.
          "I feel sick," she admitted leaning heavily against the portal. "I have a fever. Probably some bad food that's all. Is Talyn okay?"
          "He is perfectly fine," Crais said still troubled by her appearance and not at all satisfied with her explanation. "We are doing practice targeting runs with his main cannon. Would you like to watch?"
          "Some other time," she said hoarsely, eyes closed.
          He noticed her right hand pressed firmly against her lower abdomen. Perhaps it was only food poisoning. He promised himself he would run the medical scanner over her later just to be sure.
          "And I'll take a rain check for tonight's practice session, okay." She said turning to leave.
          "A what?" Crais asked.
          "Never mind." She sighed. "It means I'll work out with you some other time."
          "Very well," he said, brows furrowed and a frown turning the corners of his mouth downward as he watched her leave Talyn's command.



          It had been a full day of target practice. Talyn enjoyed the initial runs so much that Crais let him have his head and continue on for arns. The Gunship performed beyond his wildest imaginings. Never once in all the cycles he had dreamed of creating a Leviathan Gunship could he have foreseen Talyn's perfection. He wondered what Larell would make of him. Talyn was hers almost as much as he was Crais'.
          The longer they were together, the closer they became. He knew a time would come when he and Talyn would function as one, or sadly, he would no longer need a captain. Crais dreaded the mere thought of the latter. He loved this ship as dearly as he had ever loved Tauvo.
          As they soared over the last of the asteroid debris, Talyn banked and then chattered excitedly to him. His sensors had picked up another ship closing on their position. He projected a holographic image of the vessel above his navigation console as Crais stepped forward. It was not a design he recognized. It was a dark, ungainly looking vessel, bristling with weapons. Four enormous shapes fanned outward from the long, slender main section like the petals of a flower. He felt Talyn's eagerness to fire on the other vessel and fought with all his control to prevent it.
          "Talyn, remember. Weapons are our last resort." Crais warned him firmly.
          The Gunship relented with a series of sad bleats before powering down his weapons.
          "Very good," Crais smiled.
          The unknown ship drew closer and Talyn's sensors indicated they were hailing. He touched a button on the communications console and stood before the view port to await the message. He was not prepared for the hideous creature that appeared before him. It was a gigantic, cadaverous birdlike nightmare. It rasped and growled horribly before finally speaking.
          "Enemy ship, we are Halos One. You trespass on Halosian space," the creature informed him threateningly. "Identify self!"
          "I am Captain Crais. We travel in peace and we wish safe passage." He replied levelly.
         Before he could continue Talyn made a frantic series of trills. He looked around as the portal door slid and locked and defense systems powered up. Chin down, Crais turned back to the view port.
          Trying to contain his own anger he said, "Halos One, my ship's defense mechanisms have been activated. We sense your weapons have charged. Stand down! I repeat, we travel in peace."
          Without warning explosions rocked Talyn. His defense screens absorbed the majority of the blast, but the shudder could be felt throughout the ship. Crais steadied on his feet as showers of white sparks shot across command.
          "Talyn, prime guns for retaliation," he growled furiously. "Fire now!"
          The Gunship's main cannon roared thirteen times before Crais finally forced him to stop. The Halosian ship was a ragged mess, nearly destroyed. He could only hope there were no others in the area to witness the battle. He never wanted this. He had tried to warn them.
          "Talyn, get us out of here. Starburst!" he commanded closing his eyes and shaking his head in disgust.
          He realized the Halosians had given them no choice, but the battle sat hard on his conscience. When starting his life over with Talyn he made a solemn vow never to use his ship's superior weapons if he did not have to. He should have known better. No good act on his part ever ended well.




          After thirty arns of careful observation, Crais was satisfied they were a safe distance from the altercation with the Halosians. He had Talyn set a course for the next system. There was nothing else to be done and returning to the routine of mapping would help everyone aboard. He left command without saying a word. Talyn knew his mood and would not question his actions.
          He wasn't really hungry, but he found himself in the galley several microts later. He munched a food cube mindlessly and drank a large glass of water. He couldn't clear the battle from his mind. He had dreamed of how Talyn would perform in a fight, but had hoped never to actually see it. Not since rediscovering himself and finding a new path for them both.
          After another glass of cool water, he headed aimlessly for his quarters. Once inside, he doffed his uniform jacket and prepared to change into his workout gear. Then he remembered about Senna's visit to command the previous morning. He figured it wouldn't hurt to check in on her before he went to the combat room. Perhaps the illness had passed and she would want to join him. He slipped into the comfort of his exercise clothes, grabbed a towel from the console and stepped across the corridor.
          He stopped locking her in her quarters more than two months ago. He didn't even bother using the chime to announce himself anymore. It would have been a terrible breech of privacy with anyone else. Somehow with the two of them it seemed normal.
          As the door slid aside he saw her facing away from him, curled into a fetal position on the bed. Her body was shaking uncontrollably and her clothes were soaked with perspiration. He was on his knees beside her in a microt, trying to roll her over to face him. As he did so, she wailed sharply and drew more tightly in on herself.
          "Senna," he said as he came around to the other side of the bed. "What's the matter?"
          "I'm hurt," she cried between clenched teeth. "I fell. . .against one of the support structures. I fell against my lower right side. It feels like appendicitis, but I had my appendix out as a kid. It feels like my insides are being ripped out."
          "Tell me what I can do," Crais said, feeling helpless, an emotion he despised.
          "Give me something for the pain and let me sleep," she moaned. "I'm hoping it will pass."
          "And if it doesn't?"
          "We'll worry about that when the time comes," she said then gagged. He shoved a waste bucket to the side of the bed just in time to catch the gush of vomit.
          There was no blood in it. If she were Sebacean, that would be a good sign. Since she was not, he could only make assumptions. He went into her hygiene chamber to wet a hand towel. Returning to the side of her bed he bathed her face with it. She was hotter than usual and looked like death.
          "You need medical attention," he observed staring unblinking into her face.
          "I don't think my HMO has a clinic this far out," she said trying to smile. "Just give me something for the pain. I'll be better tomorrow."
          He knew she was lying. The medication would only mask her injuries. At a loss for anything further to do, he complied. He placed the hand cloth over her scorching forehead and went back to his quarters. Tumbling through the console drawer where he stored medical supplies, he prepared a syringe of a strong painkiller. He returned to find her hunched over the bucket again. Waiting for her to finish, he could sense Talyn's growing dismay. Nothing could be hidden from him and the woman's illness was upsetting him greatly.
          "Bialar," she moaned as he wiped her face again.
          "I have the medication." He soothed as he injected it into her neck. "It is fast acting."
          "Bialar, stay with me until I sleep," she whispered holding tightly onto his left hand.
          He tossed the empty syringe onto her bedside table and shoved the odorous bucket aside. Sitting beside her tightly coiled body, he allowed her to hold onto his hand. She drew it closer to her face as the medication took effect, placing her burning lips to his bare skin. He wanted desperately to pull away from her, but wasn't sure how he could.



          By the early morning hours her fever had risen to an alarming level. Were she Sebacean, she would have crossed the line into Living Death. Her mumbling and moaning almost made him believe she had. At least the vomiting stopped--once he finally realized forcing water down her was a poor idea.
          When at a loss for anything else to do, he stripped her drenched clothing from her shivering body and carried her into the hygiene chamber. Running cold water from the shower, he tried to prop her against the wall. Failing this, he climbed in with her, clothes and all. She lolled against him like a puppet whose strings have been cut. She babbled his name over and over as he forced her head under the icy stream.
          The burning of her skin seemed to lessen as he dragged her from the shower stall. He held her in one arm as he reached for a fresh towel with his other hand. Turning back to start drying her he saw the red rivulets coursing down her legs into a puddle on the deck. Blood. She was bleeding.
          He quickly took her back out into the main room of her quarters and placed her on the bed. He examined her carefully, starting at her head, trying to find the source of the blood flow. As he reached the dark pubic mound he stopped. With every beat of her heart, blood seeped from between her thighs. She was bleeding internally and it was flowing from her vagina.
          Crais let slip a curse as he packed the towel against her pubis to help staunch the flow. He dashed back to his quarters to retrieve the medical scanner, something he should have done arns earlier. Returning he ran it over her and looked at the results. His face tightened as he looked down at the woman with a storm of emotions. Painful memories of Darinta Larell's ordeal flashed through his mind and he slammed a fist into the bedside table. As the pain stung his knuckles, he knew what had to be done.
          He made a final trip to his quarters for a parcel of bandage material. Removing the blood soaked towel he gingerly spread her legs farther apart. Pulling the bloody lips aside he forced as much of the bandage material as he could inside her. Next he put a rolled towel against her vagina and forced her legs back together. He wrapped a blanket tightly around her body so that she did not move in her semi-conscious state.
          "Talyn," he said looking down at her blood on his hands with a ragged sigh. "Locate Moya."



          "Look, Pilot," John said as he shambled into Moya's command. "I can't take two of these in one week, okay."
          "Has Moya identified the vessel, Pilot," Aeryn asked waving Crichton to silence.
          "It is Talyn," replied Pilot over the clamshell, amazement in his voice. "He is approaching us. Range, 4,500 metras."
          "Better tell mama to put on her armor, Pilot." Crichton warned bracing himself against one of the command center's control panels. "Her boy was not exactly polite the last time around."
          "Moya says that Talyn is not currently in an offensive posture," Pilot countered. "In fact, he is opening a communications channel to us."
         "Tell Moya to humor us, Pilot," Crichton said. "Put up the defense screen. . .what's left of it."
         "She refuses, Commander," Pilot replied.
         "Put the signal through, Pilot," said Zhaan.
         "This is Bialar Crais," the all too familiar sound of their enemy's voice filled the command center. His image coalesced on the main viewport.
          Zhaan winced visibly. Rygel ducked farther back near the defense screen with Chiana. Crichton, D'Argo and Aeryn tensed and unconsciously took up defensive postures.
          "I come to you. . ." he seemed to hesitate, causing the crew to look at each other. Could this be the arrogant, vociferous Peacekeeper villain they all knew and hated? Was he simply hesitant as part of his ploy? "It is a medical emergency. I require your assistance."
          "What in the wide world of sports do we have that you could possibly need, pal?" Crichton sneered. "If you got a case of the clap Jim Kirking your way through the UTs, take it to a commerce planet or medical hub."
          "The situation is a delicate one," replied Crais. Crichton watched the thick, beard-framed lips working around that phrase.
          "What's the matter, Crais?" Crichton taunted. "Behind on your Peacekeeper HMO premium again? Yotz, I hate when that happens."
           "I am not the one requiring attention," corrected Crais curtly. His patience was running out and his tone made it clear he was not in the mood for Crichton's sense of humor.
           "Captain Crais," Zhaan interrupted, gently placing a hand on Crichton's arm. "Who is in need of medical care? Who else do you have with you aboard Talyn?"
           "A. . .female," Crais began then seemed to falter again. "A woman."
           "My man decided to shack up with the super model after all!" Crichton quipped. "Almost makes me change my mind about you, Crais. . .not."
           "John," Zhaan said softly squeezing his arm. She directed her next remarks to Crais, "Captain, surely you could get better care for a Sebacean woman at any number of inhabited planets in this sector. Why have you deliberately sought us out?"
          There was a disturbingly long pause.
          "She is not. . .Sebacean." Crais replied finally.
          "Whoa," Crichton cut in. "Hold up just one microt. Don't tell us you did a 180 and have developed a taste for irreversible contamination."
          Crichton spared Aeryn a brief glance and she shrugged, shook her head and looked downward.
          "Crichton," Crais said angrily. "You are making this unnecessarily difficult. This woman is in critical condition. She has lost a lot of blood and will die if she does not receive immediate attention."
           "Probably tried frelling information out of the poor creature," mumbled Rygel.
          Chiana giggled at the thought then shushed the Hynerian with a not so gentle tap to his right earbrow.
          "Captain Crais," Zhaan said waving the others to silence. "You still have not told us why you have come to us seeking help."
          Silence surrounded them for several more moments. Zhaan could sense Crichton was on the verge of another verbal jab. Just as he was about to open his mouth she raised a hand to silence him. Crais spoke again.
          "The woman is. . .human," he said almost in a whisper.
          The clamor was instantaneous. Voices rose in united disbelief, profanity and fury. They would have drowned out the sound of a full-blown command carrier assault as the cacophony of emotions increased. Zhaan tried to yell above the frenzy, but was ignored.
          "This is frelling dren!" swore D'Argo in a dangerous growl.
          "Crais, what sick game is this?" Aeryn demanded.
          "Uh, excuse me mien Fuhrer," John snapped. "Just where in this universe did you happen to come across a human woman? Peacekeeper Price is Right?"
          "It is a trap!" barked D'Argo. "We must starburst out of here now!"
          "We'd never get away from Talyn in time," Chiana said, frightened and now clinging to D'Argo. Rygel maneuvered his throne sled closer to the massive form of the Luxan for comfort.
          "Please!" the voices of Crais and Zhaan intoned together.
          "Jinx!" said Crichton but fell silent with the others.
          "What you choose to believe or not believe is irrelevant. The woman is Human. She is here aboard Talyn. She is dying and in need of your care." Crais stormed.
          Crichton watched his uber-villain-wannabe nemesis gritting his teeth, pouting and hoped at any moment he would mess up his neatly coiffed hair. It gave him a brief thrill of delight.
          "Vital time is being wasted." Crais reasoned more calmly. "Talyn and I have been within the same sector as Moya for some time, strictly by coincidence. We sought you out because we assumed Pa'u Zhaan could heal her due to her experience with Crichton."
          "Now, Crais baby," Crichton grinned. "You know what happens when you go around making assumptions. You make an ass out of you and. . .umption."
          Ignoring Crichton's euphemisms as usual, Aeryn said, "Crais, we have no grounds to trust you."
          "I am well aware of that fact, Officer Sun," Crais replied sharply.
          "Aeryn," Zhaan said softly taking her aside. "Talyn could easily have destroyed the Halosians and he did not. If there is a life at stake I am bound by my training to offer assistance."
          "Listen, Blue!" Crichton began.
          "Please," said Crais again more stridently, cutting him off.
          It was a word unaccustomed to being in his mouth. That much was obvious. It froze Moya's crew in their places.
          "If you will permit me to bring her over via a transport pod," Crais offered.
          "No!" Five voices said as one before he could complete the sentence.
          "Then allow Officer Sun to bring Pa'u Zhaan aboard Talyn." Crais countered, emotion creeping back into his tone. "You may think it of very little value. However, you have my word that they will come to no harm."
          "You know what? Get frelled, Crais!" Crichton swore, then turned heatedly toward the others.
          "Aeryn, Zhaan, I will not allow the two of you into his clutches, got it?" he said between clenched teeth. "This is obviously a frelling trap, okay. You agree with that much, right?"
          "Pilot," Zhaan said. "Can you scan Talyn to see if there is a human life signature on board?"
          "I will try," he replied. "Scanning Talyn's interior. . .now."
          There was a tense silence as Moya's crew awaited the outcome. For his part, Crichton, was firmly convinced that the Peacekeeper renegade was lying through his teeth. D'Argo and Aeryn were probably right there with him. Chiana, always open to possibilities, didn't seem certain what to think. Rygel spent the quiet interval trying to calculate what Talyn might be worth in trade should they be able to recapture him.
          "Zhaan, Commander," Pilot's voice was filled with shock and definite excitement. "The scan reveals two life forms aboard Talyn. One Sebacean. . .and one human!"
          "What!" Crichton blurted spinning to face the image of Crais. "That's not possible."
          "I assure you commander, Moya's scan is correct." Pilot said over the comms. "I calibrated her scanners to look for a signature exactly matching yours. She found one. A female. Life signs very weak."
          "John," Zhaan said taking Crichton by the shoulders. "I must see to her."
          "Ah, right. Right." Crichton stammered, too shocked to fight her anymore. "How can this be happening? How can he have a human woman with him? Has Scorpy perfected the wormhole technology and gotten to Earth?"
          "We'll never know if we don't question Crais," Aeryn said coldly gripping the butt of her pistol. "I'll do it."
          "Whoa, whoa, wait! You can't go in there guns a-blazing. I have got to talk to this woman. Find out how she got here." Crichton replied stopping her. "There may be a way home in this for me."
          Aeryn's forehead creased momentarily, her eyes narrowing as she looked into his face. No matter how close they had become, John still wanted to go home. Another crack in her ironclad heart. Even Velorek could not pierce her as deeply emotionally as he could, Crichton knew. Her mouth hardened, she swallowed any scathing retort that may have come to her lips.
          "Just the same," she said. "I will get the information out of Crais. . .one way or another. If it is Scorpius' coveted wormhole project, we must know."
          "Agreed," said D'Argo. "Not that there is a great deal we can do about it. Knowing is best."
          "Right," Crichton said with a sigh. "Just. . .go easy, Aeryn. Okay?"
          "You know me," she said with a slight, crooked smile as she cocked her head to the side.
          "Yeah, exactly." He said with a wry face, touching her cascading hair softly with his fingertips.           He knew his remark about finding a way back to Earth struck a nerve and he was sorry. They had been, from the very first moment they met, like two porcupines trying to have sex. "Watch your step over there. Baby boy and Uncle Bialar are not our allies no matter how forgiving he was with the Halosians."

          "Understood," Aeryn nodded.