Episode filler after Relativity. In the last scene Crais doesn’t look so good and I kept wondering, had he been given any medical attention? Relative Calm emerged. This take off is due to a remark ValleyForge made on Relative Calm, not entirely my fault. Crais is feeding Talyn his engrams, how far can things go?

All is Relative

By GitonCrais

Crais had stumbled into the clearing where Talyn was resting. He could barely walk, and his left hand, which was clasped over his right shoulder, was stained red with his own blood. He had even fallen to his knees once, but had managed to struggle back to his feet after a few moments. His eyes had focused on Talyn, noting how quietly Talyn rested. Just the sight of the young Leviathan had seemed to urge him to his feet again.

The others stood in the hatch and watched him stagger slowly towards the Leviathan.

Aeryn looked at Crais with cold anger, her arms crossed over her chest. Crichton held his arm protectively over her shoulder.

Stark and Rygel were confused by the reaction of Aeryn and Crichton.

When Aeryn and Crichton had returned to Talyn, Aeryn had been crying and Crais had not returned with them. They hadn’t given any explanation for either occurrence.

Finally Rygel looked up at Crichton, a tinge of anger in his voice, “Aren’t you going to help him? I can’t. I do not have the power to lift him.” Crichton shrugged.

“He’ll get here,” said Crichton with a drawl, not taking his eyes off Crais.

Stark made little mewling sounds. He wanted to go forward into the clearing and get Crais, but was undecided. He threw tentative glances at Aeryn and Crichton but they didn’t move.

Finally, only paces away from the hatch, Crais pitched forward and lay still. He was close enough for them to hear his grunt of pain when he fell, and the heavy breathing afterwards.

He tried to raise himself but loss of blood or pain drove him back to the ground.

Stark looked at Crichton, his voice changing in pitch, “Help him!”

Crichton walked down the ramp and bent down to lift Crais

Crais couldn’t suppress a yelp of pain when Crichton hauled him up. He bit his bottom lip to suppress another cry.

Inside Talyn, Crichton let him stand on his own feet and Crais leaned against the bulkhead, catching his breath. It had taken Crais a long time to get back to Talyn. He had to backtrack a couple of times, then he had passed out twice. He had been afraid that he would never get back to Talyn. He had barely been able to feel Talyn through the link and Crichton had taken the positioning device. At first Crais had thought that the reason he couldn’t hear Talyn outside was because the youngster was ‘sleeping deeply’ or that the atmosphere of the planet was the cause. But he couldn’t hear or feel Talyn even after he was inside the little ship, and that worried him.

He looked at the faces around him. His voice was hoarse with concern and pain, “What has happened to Talyn? Why is he so quiet?”

“As if you care,” Aeryn sneered at him.

“I do, Aeryn. Something is wrong with Talyn. He…”

“As if you cared when you shot my mother.”

“It was necessary,” Crais grasped his arm tighter and began to move towards Command, but Aeryn spun him around and slammed him into the bulkhead. He closed his eyes in pain.

Her face was up close to his, “She could have been persuaded.”

He looked at her as calmly as he could, “She would never have been ‘persuaded’, and you know it.”

“Yes, she could have. Are you so set on taking everything away from me?”

“Aeryn, she would have informed on us to High Command. She...”

Aeryn slammed him again into the bulkhead and this time Crais couldn’t suppress a moan escaping his lips. She glared at him, “First you took Velorek away from me...”

He managed to sneer at her, “Whom you betrayed.”

She pushed him again and he closed his eyes briefly, only just managing to keep upright.

“Then you condemned me, declared me ‘Irrevocably Contaminated’…”

“For the better, I may…”

The anger in her eyes blazed with renewed fury, “And then you killed my mother!”

“It was necessary for the…”

“For your own hide!” She jabbed him in the shoulder, and he clenched it with a nearly knuckle-white, blood-caked hand.

Stark and Rygel listened in shock to the exchange.

Rescue came from an unexpected corner. Crichton pulled Aeryn away from Crais.

Crais didn’t wait much longer before he stumbled onward toward Command. He had to know what had happened to Talyn.

Staggering into Command, he lurched towards the main console. His face twisted in grief and shock, “No… No… What has she done to you…”

Burnt conduits and wires were strewn all over Command. Sparks flickered. The lights on the consoles flashed dimly. His bloodstained hands flew over the controls but he could barely feel Talyn.

“TALYN!” His heartrending cry reverberated throughout Command and reached out into the corridor.

Then Crais felt him, weakly, at the perimeter of his mind.

Crais focused to strengthen the link.

He crashed to his knees as Talyn’s pain overwhelmed him. Crais managed to withstand it only because it told him that his friend was still alive.

He had to do something, or it wouldn’t be for long. Talyn’s mind seemed to be drifting away, dimming. Crais concentrated and lent his strength to Talyn. For a moment the console flickered back to life and Crais knew instinctively what he had to do.

The others ran to Command. They had heard Crais’ scream, known what he had found.

They saw him crawl to the main console, sag against the side.

Crichton tried to pull him away, “It’s over, Crais.”

“No,” Crais gasped, his eyes roaming around Command, “It is not. Talyn needs my strength. I can save him. I will feed him my engrams. He will not die.” He jerked himself away from Crichton. He slumped against the console.

Crichton tried to pull him away again, “Crais, it is too late to save Talyn. Your shoulder…”

“Can wait,” Crais growled, “While I’m feeding Talyn, you and Aeryn fix his conduits and wires. He will stand a better chance.” Crais sagged further and closed his eyes.

Crichton looked over at Aeryn, “Do you know what he’s talking about?”

Aeryn stared at Crais and nodded slowly, “I think I do, I’m not sure.”

“Well, what is it?”

“I heard Pilot mention it once. I don’t even know why we were talking about it.”

“And?” Crichton grew impatient.

“It has happened between Pilots and Leviathans before. Faced with the threat of irreparable brain damage to the Leviathan, the Pilot would establish a full mind-link to his Leviathan. He would then splice in his own neural engrams, and feed the Leviathan with his own mind-imprint, so to speak, his own energy force, to help restore the balance in the Leviathan’s mind,” Aeryn’s eyes were riveted on Crais.

“Great,” said Crichton as he stood up, “So, we’ll have a humongous clone of a mad ex-Peacekeeper. That’s just frelling great.” He tossed his hands up in the air, “That’s just what we need, a Crais with mega-guns and a mega-temper.”

“No,” said Aeryn, “Talyn will not be just a copy of Crais. Well, not completely anyway, I think. He will still be Talyn, but with parts of Crais’ psyche melded to his.”

“And that should make me feel better?” Crichton asked with a sneer.

Aeryn finally looked up at Crichton, “We don’t know for sure what it will do to Talyn… or to Crais. Pilot wasn’t very clear about that.”

“Okay, I’m going to wake Cap’n Crunch up. He’s not going to mind-poison Talyn.”

“We can’t do that, John.”

“Why not?”

“You wake him up now and you might damage both their minds, or even kill them.”

“Aw, what a shame,” Crichton walked back to Crais.

“You want to be stuck on this planet?” Rygel’s voice stopped him, “I don’t.”

“What do you mean,” asked Crichton, turning to the Hynerian.

“If what Aeryn says is right, your waking Crais up could result in both of them dying or in permanently damaging their minds. Either way, we will not be able to fly away from here.”

Crichton looked back at Crais.

“Are you willing to take that chance,” Rygel asked calmly.

“His shoulder…”

“You touch him and he wakes up.”

“Rygel is right, we should leave Crais for now,” said Aeryn.

“How long will that take?”

Aeryn shrugged, “I don’t know, arns, days. As Crais requested before he passed out, we should do what we can to fix the conduits and wires of the consoles. It will give Talyn and Crais a better chance.”

“Stark and I will continue cutting Talyn free.” Stark and Rygel left Command.

Crichton turned to Aeryn, “What happens if he’s successful?”

“Then Talyn will have use of his higher functions again and we can fly out once he’s healed.”

“And if he isn’t?”

“Then Talyn and Crais will probably die, and we will be stuck here.”

“You’re taking this all very calmly.”

“Nothing more we can do at the moment.”

She started on the repairs.

After one last look at Crais, Crichton helped her.

It was strange, working on the consoles with Crais lying in Command. Crichton wasn’t sure whether he was unconscious, asleep or faking it.

“You sure he’s not just faking it?”

“John, he’s feeding Talyn his neural patterns. It might take a long time, I don’t know.”

Crichton lowered his voice, “But what if he isn’t? Maybe Talyn’s mind is already gone. Maybe he’s just going for the sympathy vote. You know. If we’re all stuck here together, maybe we’ll help him get off this rock.”

Aeryn rolled her eyes, “No John, he’s not faking it.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Two things. One: The wound on his shoulder was still bleeding; he would not willingly try to bleed himself to death. Two: Talyn’s condition is improving. The air is fresher. Whatever Crais is doing, it seems to be working.”

“Still…” Crichton looked over at Crais. The few stray hairs that had come undone from the queue were damply plastered to Crais’ pale face. His face was so innocent in rest.

As if in answer to Crichton’s question, a shudder went through Talyn and then another as Talyn began to lift off from the planet.

Aeryn smiled, “Still think he’s faking it?”

Through the view-port they could see how Talyn rose slowly away from the planet. Soon, the black of space filled the screen. Movement was slow but at least they were slipping back into space again.

Crichton entered Command again four arns after they had finally left the planet. Crais had shifted position ever so slightly. His breathing was heavy, and audible, but it had also become much more steady.

“How is he,” asked Crichton, stealing a contemptuous glance at Crais.

Aeryn looked at Crais with tired concern. She had stayed in Command to keep an eye on Crais’ and Talyn’s progress, which had been so slow, “Crais is attempting to splice his neural engram with Talyn and if he can, Talyn will be able to navigate on his own again.”

Crichton looked at Crais in disgust, “It is just that a large part of Crais’ psyche will now reside in Talyn.”

There was sadness in Aeryn’s eyes, “It’s the only way we can bring Talyn back alive.”

There was doubt in Crichton’s eyes.

Arns later, Crais opened his eyes. He was disoriented. He tried to move but fell back weakly when he moved his shoulder.

Aeryn bent down and gently cradled his body.

“Aeryn,” Crais’ voice was hoarse. He was surprised that it was she who was helping him.

“I’m here, Crais. Is Talyn all right?”

Crais nodded weakly, “The transference has worked. He will wake up soon.”

As if on cue, Talyn’s lights came on dimly.

Crais’ eyes unfocused, “Rest, Talyn. We have time.” The lights dimmed a little.

“What about you, Crais?”

“I will rest also,” his head lolled weakly. He winced as she took a better grip on his shoulder.

“We’ll have to treat this.”

Crais nodded and tried to get himself into a standing position. He couldn’t do it on his own, and he flinched in pain with each movement of his shoulder. With the help of Crichton and Aeryn, he finally made it to his quarters.

He was barely conscious by the time they reached his quarters. They dropped him on the bed and he didn’t even attempt to move into a more comfortable position.

While Aeryn went to the refresher to get some water, Crichton straightened out Crais’ unresponsive body. Little grunts issued from his lips when Crichton moved him.

Aeryn had to support Crais to help him to drink. He drank thirstily.

Getting his tunic and shirt off was a painful affair. The blood had dried and it had caked the clothes to his shoulder. Still, he clamped his lips and let her help take the tunic and shirt off. A small moan escaped his lips when she tried to remove it carefully. His left arm and side were already free but getting his right arm loose from the sleeve would not be so easy. She lifted the shirt over his head. Only his right arm and side were still inside the clothes.

She looked at him with a fixed stare, “Brace yourself.”

Crais looked at her tiredly, “What for?”

She yanked the tunic and the shirt off in one go, the wound opening again. Crais screamed. He slumped forwards. Crichton was only just in time to catch him from falling off the bed.

Aeryn smiled wryly, “Done.”

Crichton had to swallow a gulp when he saw the cold expression on Aeryn’s face.

Crais was barely conscious when they started treating him. The area around the wound was badly bruised and his whole right side was red where the blood had trickled down. The scanner closed the wound. They washed the blood away.

“There,” replied Aeryn, “He just needs to rest now.” She left the room.

That left Crichton to watch over the unconscious man.

Crichton took a chair, turned it around and sat on it backwards, watching Crais.

The man’s breathing was ragged now, even in sleep. His face was peaceful, too peaceful.

Crichton took Winona out and sighted Crais along the barrel. It would be so easy. He stopped. It would also not help them control the little gunship.

Crais regained consciousness gradually. When his vision cleared, he found himself looking into the face of John Crichton. It was not a sight he enjoyed waking up to.

He moved the sheet with his left hand over his shoulder, covering himself against the chill and the prying eyes of Crichton.

Crichton looked at him in silence.

That was fine by Crais. He tried to get into a more comfortable position and winced.

Finally, Crichton broke the silence, “So, do we have a mad Leviathan on our hands now?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Crais’ voice was hoarse. His throat was dry but he wouldn’t ask Crichton for water. He looked at the flagon of water at the side of the bed. He would have to move to get to it, showing the Jhumon his weakness. Well, he wouldn’t do it. He licked his dry lips.

Crichton watched Crais, saw his predicament and need, but made no move to offer any help.

Crais closed his eyes.

“Yo, Crais,” Crichton roused him from his stupor, “What about my question?”

Crais opened his eyes, “What question?”

“Is Talyn now a big bad copy of yourself?”

Crais scowled and wet his lips before speaking, “Talyn is still Talyn. He will have some of my mind-imprint, but that will fade over time.”

“How long?”

Crais shook his head. His mouth was dry. Speaking was painful.

“You don’t know? Or you don’t care?”

“I don’t know, Crichton. I have never done this before and…”

“Then how do you know it will fade?”

Crais furrowed his eyebrows, “I don’t… I just know, I can’t explain it.”

“Yeah, right, and in the meantime, the youngster is plotting to take over the universe.”

Crais sighed, “You are exaggerating, Crichton.” He coughed.

“Am I? We only have your say-so that Talyn will be all right. No one can talk to him. No one can ask how he really feels. So, what if he is your double?”

Crais grew weary with the conversation and closed his eyes again.

Crichton was silent for a little while. When he could see Crais drift off, he started the conversation again, “Hey, Crais. What if he stays like you?”

Crais opened his eyes, “He won’t, Crichton. Once he is strong enough, his own mind will take over and he will be Talyn again.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, I am not.”

“So, why say it as if you are sure?”

Crais sighed, “It would be the most logical conclusion.” He coughed and swallowed deeply.

“How so?”

Crais’ throat was raw, “Would you hand me the water?”

Crichton grinned, “Ah, magic word first.”

Crais was annoyed, “What magic word?”

“Please?”

“Please what?” Crais was getting more annoyed with Crichton’s word games.

“That’s the magic word.”

Crais shook his head. The Jhumon could be so infantile sometimes.

“No magic word, no water,” it was obvious that Crichton was enjoying this.

Crais wouldn’t be humiliated by Crichton. He reached for the flagon with his right hand, but had to pull back when his shoulder protested. He pushed himself into an upright position with his left arm and finally reached the liquid. He drank deeply, the water only just beginning to quench his thirst. He lay back weakly.

Crichton watched him with a smile. He toyed with Winona again, well aware that Crais had seen this. “So, why is it a logical conclusion?”

Crais sighed and closed his eyes. His voice had a little bit more strength, “Pilots must have done this for their Leviathans in the past. If they knew that it would only result in fatal or permanent injury to their Leviathans, then they would not do so, knowing full well that if the Leviathan died, they would die with them. It is a Pilot’s duty, his imperative, to serve his ship. It is only logical to assume that in time the Leviathan’s mind should recover and establish itself again.”

“But how long will this take?”

“Not long, I think. Probably long enough for the Leviathan to be strong enough to take over the functions without help.”

“And you think that Talyn will be able to think for himself, after what’s been done to him?”

“Talyn is strong-willed. He will recover soon.”

“We have your word?”

Crais averted his head, “Talyn is strong. He will be himself soon.”

Crichton heard the sadness in Crais’ words, but did not understand the reason for it.

Before he could question the Sebacean any further, Aeryn walked into the room.

“How is Crais?”

“I’m fine,” replied Crais.

“Yeah, a model patient. Quiet as a mouse.”

“What’s a mows?”

“A little furry creature with sharp teeth. Scuttles in the dark.”

Crais opened his eyes and looked at Crichton with annoyance.

“See, he even has his old charm back.”

Aeryn moved to Crais’ side, “How are you feeling, Crais?”

“Tired. Thirsty. Can’t move my arm very much.”

She looked over at the side and saw the empty flagon, “I’ll get you some more.” She returned quickly and helped him drink. “You could have killed yourself helping Talyn, Crais.”

He lay back. “It was the only option. We would be easy to find if word had been sent to High Command before… And had Talyn died, the transport pod would not have been able to get us all to an inhabited planet. It was the only way.”

Aeryn scowled, “And what would have happened had you failed?”

Crais looked away from them, “I would have died with Talyn. With one less person, you might have had a better chance, even if it would have taken longer, to reach another planet in the transport pod. If that had happened, I hope you would have had the foresight to destroy Talyn.” He could feel their stares as they bore through his back.

Crichton laughed, “You would have done that?”

Crais turned back, his eyes becoming animated with anger. “Yes, Crichton. I have promised Talyn that he would never be alone. I intended and still do intend to keep that promise.”

Crichton backed off. Aeryn scowled at Crichton and then turned to Crais, “You rest, Sir. We’ll talk later. Talyn seems to be resting easier too.” She was glad when a small smile appeared on Crais’ face. She motioned Crichton out of the room, and Crais settled down for some rest.

He could hear them argue as they left the room, “You are such a frellnik, John…”

Crais smiled; some things never changed. He eased his right shoulder against the pillow.

He could hear Talyn’s voice in his mind. Talyn was tired and confused but happy that Crais was all right. Talyn assured Crais that he was resting now. He felt much better.

Crais smiled. It was good to hear Talyn again.

He drifted off to sleep.

The End

Back to Cycle Two

FanFiction on Captain Bialar Crais