Following is an alternative timeline story. The concept sprouted from one of the RPG’s I’m playing in. The basic idea (Crais has an adopted daughter who was abducted by Scarrans and was named Amelia) came from CyaneMae. Asked permission to use this line to build a story around it. The story is my own. Liked Armelia for a Sebacean name better than Amelia. Crais acquires a daughter and loses her, searches in Scarran Territory for her. (6 Chapters)

 

Searching for Armelia

By GitonCrais

 

1: Family Ties

 

Re-emergence from Starburst had been painful for both ship and Captain. Talyn had panicked when he couldn’t feel Crais anymore and was in a great deal of pain. Crais was lying on his stomach on the floor of the Command Centre, a pool of blood spreading underneath his leg. When he finally came to, his mind was assaulted by Talyn’s panic and pain as well as his own. The combination was agony and it was only by sheer willpower that he remained conscious.

 

It was when he tried to get up that he knew there was something seriously amiss. He didn’t need to be a medic to know that he had broken his leg. Cycles ago he had broken his arm in combat. He recognised the pain, the movement of bones in his leg, which shouldn’t be there. Cycles ago he had the comfort of the Healers and the Regenerators, he doubted if he had that comfort now.

 

He opened his link to Talyn slowly and was again assaulted by Talyn’s pain and panic, “Talyn, slow down, please,” he pleaded hoarsely. It took a couple of tries before Talyn noticed Crais was back with him. He calmed down when he acknowledged Crais’ presence.

 

 

Crais had dragged himself to Medical, leaving a trail of blood on the deck. He almost cried in sheer frustration and exhaustion when he found that the Techs had already stripped Medical of all equipment. He rested his head against the deck.

He needed to treat his injuries soon or infection might set in and then he would be of no use to Talyn or himself. He had used his queue as a tourniquet on his leg to stem the flow of blood but it had loosened when he dragged his body over the deck to Medical and his leg was bleeding again.

 

Crais raised himself off the floor in a standing position with a nearby cabinet for support. He ground his teeth against the pain. He rummaged inside the cabinet and was rewarded with a medical sonde, which had been tucked back at the back of the cabinet and had been overlooked.

It would not heal him but at least it would close the wound in his leg. He had also found flexible wire and while standing he spotted some metal thin rods on the other side of the room.

 

He loosened and dropped his trousers then he sank to the floor. With the trousers still around his ankles he dragged himself to where he had seen the rods and fashioned two makeshift splits from them. This he then placed to either side of his thigh, using the tourniquet to keep it temporarily in place then he used the flexible wire to keep the splints in place. By the time he had finished he was weak with exhaustion.

The gash was deep and he could see the white of the bone at one spot. The exertions and loss of blood made him tremble and he was feeling cold. He had to hurry. He managed to close most of the wound with the sonde and it had stopped the bleeding, when his body gave in to weakness.

 

 

For three days and three nights Crais was in the throes of fever and Talyn, although himself in pain, feared for his Pilot’s life.

When Crais regained consciousness he was weak but noticed with satisfaction that the wound had more or less closed. The pain of broken bones, though still present, had diminished.

 

He drew himself up by using a nearby chair and did up his trousers. He still couldn’t stand on his leg but that was a minor worry at the moment. He used one of some discarded long pipes as a staff to lean on.

“Talyn, how are you,” his voice sounded hoarse and his lips were parched, “How much time has passed?”

>There is pain, Crais! Make it stop! Please!< Talyn’s shouts reverberated in his skull.

“I will try as soon as I am able to Talyn.”

 

Crais had expected Talyn to attack him in his pain. He had not expected him to withdraw after telling Crais that it had been three days since he had passed out.

Crais hobbled to the galley, wincing in pain each time his leg contacted with the deck. His face lit up when he found the stack of food cubes in the cupboard, which some Tech must have left behind. He counted them. There was enough for two or three weekens. He took a few, mindful that he had to ration himself.

 

He had to find a way to repair Talyn and ease his Leviathan’s pain. His best option would be a hover sled to move about, if he could find one. He opened his link to Talyn and managed to suppress the pain coming from the youngster. He used Talyn’s sensors to race through the corridors looking for anything that might help to make him move and at the same time assessed the situation. Both results came back negative. Talyn was badly damaged and he had lost a propulsion fin and Crais had not been able to find a hover sled. He sighed. Opening his eyes he spotted some rods and tools that could be fashioned into makeshift crutches until he was able to find something better.

 

 

Repairs on Talyn progressed slowly. Crais couldn’t work for long extended periods for fear of risking collapse. There was a constant worry that they could be detected and captured as Talyn had no means of significant movement. Crais couldn’t do much about the outside damage for the moment and concentrated his repairs on the internal damage. At least it seemed to take away some of Talyn’s pain.

His days were filled with repairs and his nights with fever induced dreams.

 

At the end of two weekend after their Starburst in the Command Carrier, Crais had brought the navigational console online and spotted a nearby commercial planet with a high gravity moon. Talyn could use the moon for hiding and resting. How to get there was a different matter.

 

He had been extremely lucky, the Techs had left a pod in the Docking Bay, why, he did not know and he did not question his good fortune. He was now able to put it to good use, Talyn agreed with the plan.

Talyn used his remaining propulsion fin to take a spurt forward then Crais moved the pod next to Talyn, touching him on the damaged side and used the thrusters on the other side of the pod to push the youngster back on course.

 

The first two tries didn’t seem to make a difference but then Talyn got the idea of relaxing completely when it was Crais’ turn to make him move and slowly they moved forwards. The process was long and arduous and took the full concentration of Captain and ship, too much thrust on Talyn’s turn would take too long for Crais to perform the correction. Too little on Crais’ turn wouldn’t get them anywhere.

It took them nearly two Solar Days to complete the manoeuvres. Both were worn out by the time they finished. The brief rests Crais had were taken on the pod. Crais was relieved that he could go to his quarters, refresh and take a much needed rest.

Talyn settled down on the surface on the dark side of the moon and rested.

 

 

Crais had to go down to the planet or else face starvation. One day before Talyn settled on the moon Crais had finished whatever food the Techs had left on the ship and that was after strict rationing. He had already delayed going due to his leg and had fashioned some new crutches to replace the makeshift ones. He only had his Peacekeeper’s and Captain’s uniform left, he did not think that it would be very wise to wear any of those. He decided to leave his coat off and just go down in shirtsleeves; the planet had a warm enough climate.

 

Most people would have remembered him with his hair tightly bound back and his cheeks clean-shaven. He left his hair out of the queue. He had not shaved for all that time, since he had no shaving appliances with him and the area between his jawbone and chin had now filled in with a stubbly beard. He looked in the mirror and wouldn’t have recognised himself. His hair flew wild, thick and curly. His beard covered his jaw. What he could see of his face was hollow and sunken due to the constant pain and lack of sufficient nourishment.

Crais had left some credits in the secret compartment where he had also concealed his Captain’s uniform, now he took this out and hoped it was ample for their needs.

 

 

The trip to the planet was uneventful and he had managed to buy enough food cubes to last him two monens, three at a stretch and a small amount of Chromextin for Talyn.

While he was on the planet he visited the local Healer but she took one look at his leg and shook her head. She could fix and treat the wound on his leg but she didn’t have the facilities to reset and heal the leg. The period of the injury had been too long and the break had been bad. It had not been a clean break and even if she had the facilities she could never reset it properly.

Crais went back to Talyn and the moon and spend all of his waking hours to repair Talyn and to ease his pain.

 

 

Two monens after their Starburst from the Command Carrier, Talyn and Crais became aware of an interesting side-effect and they couldn’t come up with an explanation, at a later analysis, why it should have happened.

 

This first awareness was an unpleasant one for Crais, partly because of its nature and partly for the suddenness of the event.

Crais had been in Command, running maintenance checks and possible ways to help Talyn reroute some of his circuits. Crais had a crutch propped under his right arm, he still needed it to move about and it was hampering his movements.

Talyn had been complaining earlier about the regrowth spurts of his propulsion fin. It had continued to hurt him and it seemed as if it wasn’t going to let up. He tried to keep it as much as he could from Crais. It was difficult. Their symbiosis had gained in strength. It wasn’t easy to hide each other’s thought and feelings.

Crais ran his checks to see if he could reroute some of the nerve conduits away from the affected area without causing Talyn too much pain.

 

Talyn’s energy readings had been low since most of it was routed to regrowing his fin and repairs.

Crais sighed after another failed attempt, “I wish I could give you some of my energy.”

>So do I Crais< Talyn could understand Crais’ frustration but no sooner had the thought left Talyn’s mind when he could feel himself draw on energy, Crais’!

 

Crais could feel it drain from him in a rush, from his core to his extremities. The drain was sudden and Crais fell to the floor. “Talyn,” he cried weakly, “Cease what you are doing immediately!” His body went limp.

Talyn stopped abruptly >Sorry Crais, I didn’t…<

“I know Talyn.” Crais tried to move but found himself unable to do so, “How are you feeling?”

>Better. The pain is less< Talyn proved this by navigating forwards and Crais could feel the ship move more gracefully.

Crais let his head rest on Talyn’s deck, “I’m glad Talyn. We have to look into this and see if we can control it.” He passed out.

 

It took Crais nearly two arns to regain consciousness. When he came to he learned that Talyn had been able to move to a moon nearby and was resting peacefully now for the first time in two monens.

Crais moved himself off the floor. His movements were slow.

This was an interesting and possible critical development. If he could provide Talyn with his energy, he could speed up the healing process. Would the reverse be possible too?

 

 

Over the next four monens Captain and ship experimented with this concept and after trial and error found it could be beneficial to both. They worked on passing on the energy without completely draining each other. For now it helped speed up Talyn’s recovery and his fin grew back faster than expected. They could do nothing about Crais’ leg but some of the energy must have worked for at least he could now move without using the crutches.

 

 

Crais and Talyn had made everyone believe that they had died in Starburst on the Command Carrier. It had been very close or they would have perished. Talyn had lost part of his propulsion fins in the process. It had taken Talyn nearly half a Cycle to regrow his propulsion fin. His sleek red hull had turned nearly fully black by the enforced regeneration.

Crais had broken his leg and without the aid of a Regenerator or help of a Healer it had mended badly. It had left him with a permanent limp. The constant ache a reminder of what they had set out to do.

 

 

For the first Cycle after their near fatal Starburst, Crais and Talyn kept a low profile but stayed on the move, only visiting backwater planets to restock where Crais did odd jobs, mostly ferrying people, until he had enough to buy himself some more food and essentials for Talyn. Sometimes using lo gravity moons to let Talyn rest and recuperate.

Talyn had calmed down. Somehow having to Starburst and having resigned himself and his Captain to a certain death had cured his instability of mind.

 

Crais hardly went down to planets if it wasn’t needed. Other than to restock, he felt no need for company other than Talyn’s. Neither he nor Talyn had much interest in anything apart from recuperating and to “remain dead”.

 

It wasn’t until the second Cycle that Crais was once again interested in what was going on around him. He rebelled against the injustice he had seen on some of the planets and now took it on himself and Talyn to rescue the downtrodden, the flood-victims, war-victims, any-disaster-you-could-name-victims. It became his new goal in life.

 

 

Soon rumours spread of a mysterious black ship and its mad Captain who were regarded as saviours in this part of the universe. Crais had shed his Peacekeeper’s uniform and was wearing close fitting black clothes. His trousers were of a thin durable leather, his shirt tight fitting with a high collar to hide his transponder. Knee length boots with clasps to make it easier for him to remove them, belt and gauntlets finished his attire. In battle he used leg-guards to protect his bad leg. He wore his hair loose and his thick, curly hair draped like a mane over his shoulders. He still trimmed his beard in a goatee. Even people who might have known him would be hard put to recognise him.

 

To the unwary he struck them as the devil incarnate, to the wary his black clad, commanding presence was a godsend.

Many found refuge on his ship for a short while, none stayed long. He dropped them off at the nearest safe place, which could be on the same planet or another.

 

None could get close to him. Many tried to get close, especially women, but other then rescuing them he had no interest in them. He had no need for company and preferred to eat on his own in his own quarters or was to be found in Command, especially when there were others on board. Both places were off limits.

Crais never asked for anything but would often find small caches of credits or food when the people had left. He used what he and Talyn needed; the rest was used on the more needy.

 

His prowess on the battlefield was renowned, his compassion (even if coolly executed) well known, his cold, calculated madness feared.

Talyn and he became legends and nobody knew his name, he simply didn’t provide it. He was just known as The Captain.

 

 

This changed to an extent, at the end of the Second Cycle. Crais had touched down to restock on the planet where only a weeken ago he had helped to reallocate flood-victims and his supplies had been seriously depleted, especially his medical supplies. He had allowed Talyn and himself enough rest before going down to the planet to restock.

 

He had found a small shop at the edge of the town for most of his supplies and was paying the proprietor for his goods when shouts of “Tralk” and “Take you tralk-child with you” drew his attention.

Crais stepped out of the shop. His curiosity was peaked. A young woman was cowering against the side of the building, shielding her child. The evidence of thrown mud and refuge was on her clothes. Her appearance was of one who had seen hardships and starvation for a long period. In front of them a crowd of town’s people had gathered.

 

Crais’ eyes drew in slits. He stepped forward and planted himself squarely in front of her. He set his dark eyes on the mob before them. The crowd stopped their surge forward and hushed down. Some recognised him from the descriptions and soon the words “The Captain” were passed around.

With his gauntleted hands on his hips he looked very intimidating.

“What has this woman done to you that she deserves this treatment,” his voice was soft and deep but carried to the outside edges of the crowd.

A man at the front was brave enough to speak for them, “She is a Peacekeeper’s Tralk. Look at the brand on her hand. She has lain with Peacekeepers and has borne a child by one of them. We don’t want her in our town. Let her go back to the Peacekeepers and not befoul our town.”

 

Crais’ nostrils flared and he was breathing deeply, “And for this you sling refuge at her and drive her out? Such brave men you are! Where were you all last weeken?” He looked at their ashamed faces and knew he had hit the right spot, “I will take her with me when I’m done, I don’t think I will want to stay in your town either. Anyone who will lay a finger on her or her child, will answer to me. Is that understood?” They knew it was not just an idle threat. He knew they would leave her alone.

 

Crais went back into the shop and the proprietor stayed wisely silent. When he left the shop, the crowd had dispersed. The woman and her child were still near the wall. Since his goods would be brought to the pod he had his hands free. He reached down for the child but she hid behind her mother, afraid of the wild looking man in front of her.

 

Crais shrugged his shoulder and lifted the woman off the ground. She leaned weakly against him.

“When have you last eaten,” he asked.

“Two days ago,” she admitted ashamedly.

“Come,” he said and turned towards the nearest inn. He found he had to support her, the child was not that much stronger. “You have to tell your child to come to me, so I can lift her,” he said.

“Come, Armelia, let the man carry you. It will be all right.”

The child came forward hesitantly and Crais was able to lift her on his left hip, with his right arm he supported the mother. She noticed his strength despite the bad limp and allowed him to lead them to the inn. “They will never let us in,” she said fearfully.

“They better do,” growled Crais. He opened the door and stepped inside.

 

When the Publican saw the woman and child, he came forward, “We don’t allow…”

“She is with me,” said Crais menacingly.

The man looked up at him and realised who he was talking to. He stuttered, “No, there is no problem Captain, you are all welcome.” He led them to a vacant table near the back, where they sat down. Some people dared to throw them baleful stares but the scowl on Crais’ face put any malicious thoughts quickly out of their minds.

 

Crais ordered three hot but light meals. He wasn’t sure how the woman and child would react to having food in their stomachs again. He ate slowly, the woman made an effort to slow down but Armelia tried to eat it as fast as it could disappear. Crais asked the mother to make her slow down, he didn’t want her to be sick. Reluctantly the child did so. She still managed to finish it in no time. When Crais saw that it went down well, he ordered a second helping for the child. The mother wanted to wait, “if that was allowed”.

They sat for a while in silence until Crais said it was time to go. He paid the Publican and could see by the man’s face that he was happy to see them go. At first he rejected Crais’ credits but Crais insisted.

 

When they left the inn, the woman turned to him, “Thank you, sir, we will be going now.”

“Where will you go,” asked Crais.

“To the next town or village, we may have better luck there.”

For the first time in two Cycles something stirred in Crais. “Come,” he said. He stretched out his arms to Armelia and this time the child did not hesitate to come to him and be lifted.

 

He went to his pod, the woman trailing behind him. He packed the supplies, which had been left outside, in the pod. She had assumed that he was going to take them to the next town and was surprised that he took her into space and on board Talyn. Without a word he brought her to one of the empty rooms. On the way pointing to the galley and the storage room where she and Armelia might find some suitable clothing. He then left them to refresh themselves. Once in his own quarters he tried to understand why he did what he had done and couldn’t come up with an answer.

 

 

Crais had just finished changing when Talyn warned him that the woman had collapsed in her room. He made his way there as fast as he could. When he burst in, he found the little girl sobbing next to her mother who was laying prostate on the floor. Crais moved over to her and bent down with difficulty. He lifted her off the floor and carried her over to the bed.

For a micron he considered getting a hover sled to take her to Medical but he had seen too many dead and dying to know that he would be too late for that. He made her comfortable while the little girl climbed on the bed to lie at her mother’s side.

 

The woman opened her eyes and looked into his face. She saw the unspoken answer in his eyes. In a soft voice she asked Crais, “Will you look after my daughter Armelia?”

“I will try and find your family. What is your name?”

“Ameriel Vantz.”

“And the father’s name?”

“I don’t know. He never gave me his name when he raped me,” there was a flash of anger on her face, which briefly made her face spring to life, “He was a Peacekeeper!” Crais said nothing.

“What is your name,” she asked.

He was tempted to say, ‘just Captain’ but changed his mind, “Bialar Crais.”

He could see that she knew his name, her eyes widened in shock, “We were rescued by a ghost!”

He smiled wryly at her, “Not a ghost, just not as dead as other people believe. It is better that way.”

 

She nodded her head. He saw it wouldn’t be long now. She gave one last kiss to her daughter and looked at him, “Take care of her, Bialar. May the gods go with you,” and then fell forever silent. Crais closed her eyes.

He looked over at Armelia. What was he to do with her? She clung to her mother and couldn’t understand why she wasn’t responding. Crais didn’t know how to respond to Armelia. He had to take her mother’s body soon and eject her into space.

 

 

Crais went in search of someone who could help him with Armelia, there were still some refugees left on Talyn whom he had promised to drop off at the next planet. He found a woman two doors down the corridor and explained the situation to her. She followed him back.

When she followed him into the room she was full of compassion but when she saw the brand on the woman’s hand she took a step backward and whispered, “But she is contaminated!”

Crais turned angrily on her, “Did I ask any of you if you were contaminated before I rescued you?” His nostrils flared, “The little girl needs help. Her name is Armelia. Help her, while I dispose of her mother’s body.” He did not wait for an answer while he left the room to find a hover sled. When he returned he found the woman consoling the child. He lifted the body on the sled. The woman held on to the wailing child when Crais took the body away.

 

 

When he returned, the child walked over to him, “Where is my mother?” There was sadness, defiance and anger in her green eyes.

“She’s gone,” Crais said simply, “she is dead.” He had reacted the only way he knew to her question.

“You killed her!” Armelia shouted.

“No, she…”

Before the woman or Crais could stop her, Armelia had run over to Crais and kicked him hard against his bad leg. He bit down firmly on his lip but only managed to stop himself with an effort from lashing out at her when she kicked him again. He grabbed her by the scruff of the neck, unceremoniously lifted her off the floor and dumped her on the bed before she could kick him again.

 

“Keep her away from me,” he growled at the woman before he sat down and nursed his leg. It was the one part of his body he protected when he engaged in battle but being on his own ship he had felt no need for it. He looked at the child, who was again held by the woman, “Your mother died of exhaustion, starvation and the ignorance of others. One day you will understand.” He stood up with difficulty and moved to his own quarters.

 

 

Armelia was left on Talyn when the others disembarked on the next planet, not one of them willing to take on a “contaminated” child. Crais was disgusted with their behaviour but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He couldn’t force the child on them, that wouldn’t have been fair to the child.

 

 

In the beginning it wasn’t easy for Crais to establish contact with Armelia, she still blamed him for taking her mother away and hadn’t been able to grasp the concept of death as the woman had explained to her and tried to avoid him, at least she wasn’t kicking him anymore.

Crais had never had to deal with children, especially not Armelia’s age and felt awkward in her presence. Yet, it was difficult to avoid each other within the confines of the ship. In the galley she sat away from him as far as possible and when he tried to approach her, she shied away. Crais grew tired of her games and tried ignoring her. It worked to an extent but Crais realised that it couldn’t continue like this.

 

When he walked past her quarters at night he could hear her crying. A couple of times he tried to console her but every time she shunned him. He had to wait to either let her come to him on her own accord or find someone to take her with them.

When Crais had to go planet side, Talyn watched the little girl. He made sure she wasn’t going into areas, which could be potentially dangerous and she grew used to his flashing lights, guiding her.

 

 

Soltan San was in deep trouble. Crais and Talyn were near the planet when they heard the distress call. Massive volcanic eruptions were threatening the Northern hemisphere and all spacecraft able to assist had been hailed. Talyn assured Crais that the atmosphere was such that he could go down to the planet and assist directly. Crais told him to do so.

 

Talyn descended gradually. It was a minor strain to both him and his Captain but it was tolerable. Crais made Talyn land close to an area where the eruptions were the worst but where pockets of life-signs were present. The Bay doors opened and Crais looked into the maws of hell. Burning rocks had impacted everywhere and most of what he saw was in flames. People were running around, screaming, looking for loved ones. It was utter chaos.

 

Crais asked Talyn how he was holding up and Talyn assured him he was well protected. He was more concerned for Crais, the heat was indescribable but Crais could endure it for a while.

Quickly the ship was spotted by the villagers and they surged towards Talyn. Crais wasn’t too worried how many people they could take and still establish lift-off, over the last two Cycles Talyn had grown much bigger and stronger and had used Crais’ strength only occasionally when he had not been able to lift off on his own.

 

Only three areas had been off limits, Command Centre, Crais’ quarters (where he had sent Armelia for the duration) and the Starburst Chamber.

Crais ushered them in as fast as he could. When he spotted three burly men, he immediately appointed them on the spot to get the people spread as far into Talyn as possible. When a man came up to Talyn with a number of servants carrying a multitude of bags and belongings, he told him, only people. When the man protested he gave him the option, only people or he could stay with his bags, the servants he would take in. It wasn’t much of a choice.

 

Soon the last of the villagers had boarded Talyn and when Crais looked around, he noticed that even the Hangar Bay was filled with people. The doors closed. “And none too soon,” thought Crais, who was sweating profusely.

He told Talyn to take off and a shudder went through the ship. The people stood in silence. Talyn was heavily loaded and would not be able to lift off on his own. Crais leaned against the bulkhead, closed his eyes and let Talyn borrow of his energy.

 

One of the people, who had been standing close, later described what he had seen. The ship had shuddered but it didn’t feel as if they were taking to the air. Then he saw The Captain lean against the wall of the ship, close his eyes, his eyes rolled up and all colour seemed to drain from his face, he was breathing heavily. Another shudder went through the ship and the Captain slid down the wall, they were in the air. The man had walked over to The Captain and reached for him at the same time that The  Captain opened his eyes again. Sweat was pouring down his face and he looked dreadfully pale. He had accepted the man’s hand to help him stand up, he was still a bit unsteady on his feet but seemed to regain control quickly.

 

An arn later, Crais had deposited his load of people safely far south from the stricken area and was on his way back again. Twenty times in total Crais and Talyn did this in the next thirty arns. Four times more Crais had to merge with Talyn.

After the last time, Crais knew that both he and Talyn had reached the end of their endurance and couldn’t continue without risking endangering themselves and their cargo. After the people had disembarked, Crais ordered Talyn to stand down. He could feel the weariness in himself as well as in the Leviathan and told him to rest.

Crais and Talyn needed at least four arns to recuperate before they could try again but for the moment they were just too exhausted to continue. Talyn only just managed to break the planet’s atmosphere to take his rest in space.

 

Crais couldn’t even make it out of the Hangar Bay and lay where he had finally collapsed. He was only dimly aware of small hands trying to wake him up and failing. He wasn’t aware that Armelia had propped a pillow under his head and had covered him with a blanket.

 

 

When Crais woke up he felt rested but stiff for having fallen asleep on the floor. He was surprised by the blanket and the pillow and saw Armelia sitting near him with her knees drawn up to her chin. Her red blond hair was draped unruly around her small face, her arms clamped tightly around her legs, staring in panic at him.

He stood up from the floor. “Thank you, Armelia,” was all he said.

“Are you going away, like my mother did,” she asked him fearfully.

“Not if I can help it,” he answered, his face twitching in a smile. He was hungry, “Will you come and eat with me?”

She nodded and followed him to the galley.

 

 

From that day onwards it felt natural to have Armelia on Talyn. That day Crais and Talyn managed to make many more rescues but in Crais’ mind the only rescue that had been worthwhile that day was when Armelia accepted to stay with them and saw him as a friend, not as the murderer of her mother.

 

 

For three Cycles their lives were moving at a steady pace, steady for Crais and Talyn anyway. One Cycle after Armelia, now eight Cycles old, had come on board, Crais asked advice from one of his rescue-victims how to raise a small girl. Since the woman didn’t mind, she stayed on for half a Cycle to help Crais with the raising and the instruction.

 

The woman moved on, another replaced her. With their help Crais managed to forge a bond between him and Armelia and after another Cycle, Crais asked her if she would feel comfortable with the idea of being called Armelia Crais. Her eyes went wide and a big grin spread over her face, she nearly flung herself into his arms. Awkwardly Crais patted her back. He tattooed a small tattoo with the family name on her left shoulder, one that mirrored his own and her mother’s family name was intricately woven into it. The next Cycle he trained her in Peacekeeper’s combat exercises.

 

All these attempts could not prepare them for whatever the future had in store for them.

 

2: Retribution

 

Crais, the now ten Cycles old Armelia and Tymrok, the woman currently looking after Armelia, had gone down to Zandor in the transport pod. Crais was steering it with one hand due to a dislocated shoulder, an injury from his last rescue mission.

 

After they left the pod, Tymrok and Armelia went ahead to buy some supplies and new clothes for the fast growing young girl while Crais went in search of a Healer, who set his shoulder and advised him to use a sling for a couple of days.

 

He had only just left the shop when he heard the sounds of screams and pulse rifles coming from the main square. Fearing for Armelia’s safety he ran in a hopping gait to the square.

The sight that met him would have frozen any other man.

A unit of ten Scarrans was rounding up people in the square; women and children were herded to the middle of the square while any resisting men had been shot down.

 

Crais had drawn his pulse gun and was shooting at the Scarrans, drawing their fire and hoping that some of the women and children could be rescued. He had shot down two Scarrans before the Scarrans noticed there was another player on the square. Crais had already changed positions before they had a chance to concentrate their fire on him. Another Scarran went down when Crais changed positions again.

From the corner of his eyes he saw that four of the remaining seven Scarrans were trying to control the women and children on the square. Crais dived and took a forward roll to get behind a low wall. From that position he took out two Scarrans who were guarding the people on the square. This resulted in the other Scarrans having to regroup and some of the people on the square to be able to scurry away in one of the side streets. Crais was surprised that not many men were taking up the advantage he was providing to fight.

 

His next repositioning was not so lucky. His left foot caught on a loose stone and he landed heavily on his wounded shoulder. He only barely managed to roll away from a pulse blast that impacted where had had just lain.

His next couple of shots wounded one of the remaining Scarrans rather badly and that was when his luck ran out. A stray shot hit him in the chest and he fell back behind the wall where oblivion claimed him.

Luck would have it that the remaining Scarrans were more interested to get their remaining prisoners and what little was left of their company away from the planet than finishing off the person who had dared to defy them.

 

 

When he came to he found he was still alive but had sustained a painful wound. The Scarrans had left, taking their two wounded comrades with them as well as a number of women and children, fortunately with not as many as they would have wanted to due to Crais’ intervention.

 

 

The town’s people had brought Crais to the Healer. He had been bleeding badly. The only thing that had saved him from being killed outright had been his Sebacean physiology, a little bit closer to the centre of his chest and it would have hit his heart.

 

He saw Tymrok standing next to his pallet with tears in her eyes.

“Armelia?” His voice was no more than a whisper and it hurt to breathe.

She shook her head.

“Dead?”

No, she had been taken. Crais tried to raise himself but the Healer pushed him back, afraid that his wound might open up again. She hadn’t finished the administrations.

 

Crais damned his weakness. “I have to find her,” he growled, “How long before I can move?”

“At least a couple of days.”

“Days! I haven’t got days!” Crais fought to get into an upright position, his determination lending him strength. Three men were needed to keep him down and he had to be forced to lie down. They decided to strap him down for his own safety. He silently called out to Talyn, “Talyn track any Scarran ships leaving this vector. Do not engage. Armelia will be on one of them. I will join you as soon as possible.”

 

He opened his eyes and they settled on the Healer, “How many were taken?”

“Fifteen women and nearly thirty children. It would have been more had you not stopped them. We are grateful to you,” she smiled at him. He closed his eyes. He didn’t want her to see his own mental pain.

Tymrok walked up to him, “I am sorry Captain. They had separated her from me, probably because they thought me too old. There was nothing I could do about it.”

 

He opened his eyes, they burned like dark coals, “I don’t hold it against you, Tymrok. Don’t be afraid. I might have to drop you off at the next Commerce planet or you can stay here. It will not be safe where I am going.” Although speaking was painful, he had sounded calm and rational. The vein throbbing in his temple was belying that. She nodded in understanding. He closed his eyes.

 

 

While Crais slept, Tymrok asked the people of the town if they had any idea what might have happened to the women and children who had been taken. They explained to her that this practise had been going on in this area for several Cycles. From the very few who had managed to escape and had made their way back they had learned that the Scarrans had used the abducted people in their mines as slaves. Tymrok would inform The Captain and feared for the young girl.

 

 

For nearly two days Crais slept. Willing his body to heal and recuperate faster. When the Healer came in the second day, Crais asked to be released.

“But you haven’t completely healed yet!”

“I will rest on board my ship,” Crais growled, “The trail is getting weaker. I have to be on my way to be able to follow the trace. Now, will your release me?”

 

The Healer shrugged her shoulders and released the straps and moved the Regenerator away.

Crais was happy to be released from the indignities of enforced bed rest and raised himself in a sitting position. He could feel his chest constrict painfully where muscles and lung tissue still healed themselves. The room spun but sheer determination kept him conscious.

 

“I have to protest,” said the Healer when she noticed the pallor of his face.

“So noted,” answered Crais.

“You will need more rest to fully heal.”

“I will, on board my ship,” growled Crais. He looked down at his chest and noted with satisfaction that there would only be a faint trace visible after the healing. He looked for the shirt the Healer had left him at the end of the bed. It was bright yellow and he flinched at the colour but his own shirt had been ruined.

 

 

Tymrok appraised Crais of the situation on their way back to Talyn. The Captain had nodded but had not commented on it. Tymrok was now worrying about his sanity as well as his health. His colour was still too pale.

When Tymrok and Crais boarded Talyn, Crais immediately proceeded to his quarters while Tymrok went to hers. The way the Captain had looked she would be glad to hop off at the next planet.

Crais changed quickly into another black shirt before going to Command, in the meantime getting updated on the situation by Talyn.

 

Talyn had been able to keep track of the Scarran ship, which had left the planet shortly after Crais had asked him to track it but the signal was getting fainter with distance. Crais ordered Talyn to follow it now at maximum speed. Without waiting for an order Talyn had moved forward fast. Crais, who had been expecting this, had gripped the console.

 

Tymrok, on the other hand, landed unceremoniously on her backside. Yes, it was time to leave the crazy Captain and his gunship. She kicked herself for not staying on Zandor as Crais had suggested. With Armelia gone, her work was done.

 

 

In Command, Crais stared ahead as if he could penetrate the vast distance that separated them from the Scarran ship. He coughed briefly and wasn’t surprised that his chest still hurt, he could rest later. He had not noticed how the cough stained his lips red.

Talyn told him that the distance was closing but that they had lost too much time, he wasn’t sure if he could close the gap sufficiently.

“Can you starburst to the coordinates,” asked Crais impatiently.

>I haven’t build up enough energy to do so<

“And if you used some of mine?” They had done it before with success.
>Crais your energy-readings are very low< warned Talyn.

“I don’t care. Can we do it?”

 

Talyn was worried for Crais. Yes, they might be able to starburst using Crais’ and his own energy but once they came out of starburst, both would be totally spend and what good would that do? He decided to tell a half-truth >No Crais, your energy level is insufficient at the moment to give me the added boost, maybe if you rested<

Crais scowled in resignation, “How long before we can starburst?”

>Not for at least another six arns and only if you rest too<

Crais conceded reluctantly. Rather than go to his quarters, he chose the Recliner in the Command Centre. He could feel Talyn “sigh”. It didn’t take long before he was asleep.

 

 

The rest had restored some of his energy but he still felt the aches and pains. “Talyn, how long has it been?”

>Eight arns<

Crais was upset, “I thought you said six arns would be enough!”

>I said “at least” six arns< Talyn was getting annoyed with Crais too. He had been very busy when Crais was asleep, tracking the Scarran ship, plotting possible courses, replenishing his energy at a faster rate, monitoring Crais who didn’t seem to be in very good health.

>What are we going to do about Tymrok?<

“What about her?”

>We will be entering Scarran territory soon. We might have to fight<

“Any Commerce planets nearby?”

>Not unless we go back by a Solar Day<

“We should have left her at the last one.”

>We might be able to find a planet but not nearby<

“I’ll have to talk to her. Keep this speed and course.”

>Of course!< there was a note of annoyance in Talyn’s voice. Crais had not even noticed it.

 

 

“Tymrok, we have run into a little problem. We are entering Scarran territory and the last Commerce planet was a Solar day away at standard speed. You have the option of taking the smaller pod and try your luck or stay on board until we can find a safer planet.”

She looked at the man who was only known to everyone by the name of  “The Captain”. She had been with him and the little girl for nearly six monens and had always felt safe, even at times when he moved them all in the thick of battle. He looked very pale while he tried to hold on to the doorjamb, only his eyes, which burned like fire, seemed to have life in them.

“You should rest, Captain.”

“Don’t you start too,” he growled, “What is your decision?”

“I’ll stay until we find a safer planet. Who knows, we might even find Armelia.”

He turned without saying a word and headed back to Command.

 

 

“Can we use starburst now,” Crais asked impatiently.

>Yes but…<

“Then do it!”

>The energy levels…<

“Use mine. When you see the Scarran ship, look for non-Scarran signatures. Disable if you have to. But starburst now!”

 

Talyn reluctantly carried out the order. He had monitored Crais’ energy levels and life signs and they looked as bad or worse as when they came out of starburst five Cycles ago and to starburst now he would need Crais’ energy too. Well, he had warned his Captain.

Crackling energy engulfed the Leviathan when he powered up for starburst. Crais could feel the drain on his own body and the knuckles on his hands turned white with the grip he exerted on the console. When Talyn initiated starburst, Crais let out a scream, fell to the floor and all colour drained from his face.

 

 

They were near the Scarran ship when they came out of starburst. Talyn hid behind one of the moons nearby and started his scan for non-Scarran and Scarran life signs.

Crais was still on the floor, only barely conscious. “How many,” he gasped.

>About thirty non-Scarran and ten Scarrans<

“Thirty? Are you sure? There should be closer to forty-five according to the tally. Maybe the men had miscounted.”

>Thirty-two in total< confirmed Talyn.

 

Crais tried to raise himself off the floor but fell back weakly. He had to get over to that ship. He rolled over and used the console for support to stand up.

>Crais you should rest!< admonished Talyn.

“I will. Once we get Armelia back.”

In an almost drunken gait he left Command and was on his way to the Hangar Bay. His mind was racing. How could he get on board the Scarran ship and how could he take them out without harming their prisoners?

“Talyn give me the positions of the people on board the Scarran ship.”

 

Talyn showed him the specifics. All the non-Scarrans were in the aft section with only two Scarrans nearby. Six Scarrans were in the front and two near the middle. Crais remembered the specifications on Scarran ships. Their Hangar Bay and holding cells were in the aft section. In case of a full hull-breach the interlocking walls should come down to prevent the rest of the ship being sucked into the vacuum of space.

 

 

Before getting into the transport pod Crais donned an environmental suit and took one of the pulse rifles with him as well as a couple of stun grenades. “Talyn, close the distance and direct your fire to the front of the Scarran ship. I only want that section being taken out.” Crais stepped into the bigger transport pod. It would be crammed but it should take the thirty-two captives.

 

He was engaging for lift off when he could feel Talyn let loose of his guns. By the time he left the Hangar Bay and could see the Scarran ship, he noticed with satisfaction that Talyn had been able to do as Crais had instructed. The front of the Scarran ship was in ruins while the rest was kept intact.

He manoeuvred the pod towards the Scarran ship.

 

Once there, Crais guided the pod as close as he could to the aft section of the damaged ship, aware that its firepower was still active. He put the pod in stall and left it, using a cable attached to the pod. He knew that by now the two Scarrans in the middle section, if they had survived the initial attack should now have joined up with their compatriots in the aft section.

 

He shot at the doors of the Hangar Bay, overriding the automatic controls to keep the doors locked.

He was in luck and he could see the doors give way. He stepped through, rolling towards the wall of the ship and was happily surprised that he had not been shot at. He had no doubt that it wouldn’t be long before the Scarrans would come to look for the intruder.

 

As quickly as he could he moved forward. He was about to round a corner when he detected movements and soon the first shots were coming in his direction. He ducked back and threw his first stun grenade, then dived and rolled to the other side of the corridor. He gasped with the pain in his chest but let the adrenaline overcome the pain. When he peered into the corridor he saw two Scarrans slumped on the ground. Two down at least two more to go.

He moved stealthily forward, aware of any movement. One of the Scarrans on the floor moved and Crais shot him without hesitation.

Movement to his right alerted him to another Scarran and he fired without even breaking pace. The Scarran had no chance.

 

He came to the larger area and could see the captives being held in a holding cell that almost filled half the room but no sign of the other Scarran. He linked with Talyn, “Talyn, any other Scarran life signs still present?”

Talyn answered him in the affirmative, one more and very close to where he could read Crais.

Crais’ eyes scanned the area and he moved cautiously forwards.

It was only his reflexes that saved him. The Scarran had been very close and now jumped out of hiding at Crais. Crais released the trigger on his pistol and blasted a hole through the Scarran. With a detached thought he noticed that the Scarran was dead.

He moved forwards quickly towards the holding cell. “Stand back,” he shouted over the comm to the people inside the cell. When he was satisfied that they had moved back he shot the lock.

When they surged forward he told them to wait for him in the corridor close to the Hangar Bay while he retrieved the pod.

 

 

Crais returned quickly with the pod and landed it in the Scarran Hangar Bay. He had only just touched down when they came forward. He quickly got them on board and was heading back for Talyn. He was not surprised that the rest of the Scarran ship blew up before he reached Talyn. He had expected a self-destruct mechanism.

 

 

Once on board Talyn, Crais let everyone out. A quick count confirmed thirty-two people, twelve women and twenty children. Armelia was not among them. He asked from which planet they were taken and their answer confirmed that he had been following the right ship. Nearly two Solar days ago three women and nine children were transferred to another ship. When Crais described Armelia he only received confirmation that she had been among the ones who had been transferred.

 

Tymrok had come to the Hangar Bay and saw that The Captain had been able to rescue the party. She stepped forward to relieve him of the burden of getting them installed.

He had taken off his helmet and she could see how white he was, his lips were red.

“Captain, you should rest,” she touched his arm, “I’ll take care of the people here.”

He had wanted to scold her for even suggesting he should rest then nodded.

 

 

Crais went to Command. “Talyn, set course to about two Solar days back and start looking for traces of another Scarran ship and listen to transmissions. They have transferred Armelia and the others to another ship.”

Once in Command he shed the suit and lay on the recliner, “Warn me if you have any news. We also have to find a planet to deposit the people on. Look for safe or near safe planets.” He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. With the adrenaline gone, he could feel his chest constrict and he allowed himself a brief rest.

>Crais you should go to your quarters and take a proper rest<

“I will, soon, Talyn. Wake me when you have any news.” He passed out from sheer exhaustion.

 

 

When Crais came to he found Talyn strangely quiet.

“Do you have any news,” he asked hoarsely while he sat up.

>Only news you don’t want to hear<

“Tell me,” Crais grew annoyed.

>I have found a planet where we can bring the people. It is close to the edge of Scarran Territory, they should be able to find transport from there< Talyn paused.

“And Armelia?”

>I haven’t found any trace or any transmissions forthcoming<

 

Crais sank back on the recliner, “We will drop the people off first Talyn, then we will search for Armelia.” He got up and walked towards the galley. He had expected Tymrok to take them there. He had not been mistaken.

He looked at the frightened faces of the women and children. His sight frightened them and Tymrok looked with concern at him. His pallor was almost translucent, his eyes dark and hollow. During his sleep he must have coughed and his lips were flecked with blood. He was quite oblivious to all that.

“I will drop you all off at the next planet, where you can find passage back to your home planet. I have one question, did any of you overhear where they were taking the others?”

One woman stepped forward, “I did. I heard them say that were to be taken to Salathor.”

“Thank you.”

 

Crais turned to leave when Tymrok stepped forward, “Captain you need to rest. You are injured. I will stay…”

In a rare show of kindness Crais placed his hand on her shoulder and said softly, “You will go with the others, Tymrok. Where I am going it will be too dangerous for you. I thank you for what you have done for Armelia and me but I cannot take you into more danger.”

 

He turned on his heel and left the galley, “Talyn, set course to the planet to unload the people. Yes, Tymrok will be leaving too. It will be too dangerous for her to remain on board.”

With Tymrok gone, Talyn was afraid that Crais might neglect his health and he tried to convince Crais to change his mind.

“No, Talyn, she will leave with the others and that is final.”

 

 

When the others disembarked, Crais stayed long enough to help secure passage. He was a bit taken aback when Tymrok hugged him before she left, “I wish you luck Captain in finding Armelia. And take good care of yourself.” She stepped back quickly and Crais looked at her sadly, “Thank you Tymrok. I will not forget you.”

 

 

Back on board Talyn, Crais stood in Command, “Set course to Salathor, Talyn. Let us hope we are not too late.”

 

3: Salathor and Scarran years

 

Crais and Talyn moved deeper into Scarran Territory. Running after the fact, running after Armelia, just a couple of days too late all the time.

 

The longer the search took, the less Crais cared about his health, and the more the bloodlust grew. After a while it affected Talyn as well and soon both Captain and ship were driven by one goal: find Armelia!

Talyn had stopped pressing Crais that he should take care of his health. He had stopped reminding him that he had to eat or take his rest, since Crais had stopped listening when he came on board with the news that Armelia was taken.

 

Had anyone who had known Crais seen him now they would not have recognised him. His hair had grown into a wild curly mane more than halfway down his back. When he remembered he shaved his beard into a goatee. This normally happened when he went into a battle and only if he knew he was going well beforehand, the same accounted for his queue. His eyes burned with a feverish passion and his skin had grown pale with fatigue, pain and lack of nourishment.

 

The Scarrans found out soon enough that somehow they had picked up a formidable foe on one of their forages.

Sanity had disappeared together, with looking for Armelia and Crais’ negligence of his health. The bloodlust had taken over.

 

Crais had recited the ancient Peacekeeper vow to find Armelia or die trying. Anyone could have told him he was making a good job of the latter part of the vow.

Salathor would bear the brunt of this dedication.

 

 

Crais had touched down with the transport pod after Talyn had told him where the mining base was. Crais had taken his frag-gun and his grenades with him. He had landed near the mining-camp in the seclusion of the woods. Talyn had not detected any planetary scanners. Crais emerged from the pod.

Totally clad in black, his hair hung loose and was blowing in the wind.

 

Between the woods and the fence of the mining camp there was a wide expanse to traverse. Crais didn’t wait long and crossed the space with determination.

When the first guard saw him, Crais let the frag-gun speak for him. By the time the Scarrans came running to the perimeter fence, Crais was lopping grenades at them and had blown the gate away with the frag-gun.

By sheer luck he wasn’t hit at all, while the Scarrans flew through the air and fell to the ground (or in smaller pieces). His gun and grenades spewed death and destruction.

 

What made it all the more chilling was the calm on Crais’ face while he strode forwards with his wild mane of hair flying behind him. To the Scarrans he resembled an invincible demon.

Soon the courtyard was filled with the dead and dying Scarrans. The silence was absolute.

A quick sound behind him made Crais turn around and in one fluid movement his pulse pistol was out of the scabbard and dealt quickly with two wounded Scarrans who were struggling to rise.

 

When he got to the entrance of the mine he moved forward cautiously. It paid off and two more Scarrans hit the ground. Crais was surprised not to find more resistance.

Once he was inside the mine, he dealt swiftly with the few remaining Scarrans.

He moved deeper into the mine and found the first pockets of captives. It didn’t take long for them to realise that their Scarran masters were no longer in charge. They moved slowly forwards. “Are we free now,” they asked hesitantly. Crais nodded.

Slowly the word swiftly spread and reached the deeper parts of the mine and the people emerged from their depths.

 

Crais had been right in assuming that even the Scarrans from the depths had come up and lay now dead.

He looked at the misery around him. Hollow eyes and scared faces. Starvation, hardship and torment were written over the features of men, women and children.

Crais was enraged with what he beheld.

 

He ordered them out of the mine and to help the ones who couldn’t help themselves out to the courtyard.

There were no more Scarrans inside the mine. Crais walked outside and checked if there were no more Scarrans coming from other compounds, Talyn confirmed that all seems quiet. He then checked each Scarran lying in the courtyard, his pulse pistol dealing promptly with the ones still alive. Only when he was sure that all were dead did he contact Talyn, “Talyn, can you land near the mining colony?”

Talyn had checked the atmosphere and gravity and said he could but not for a long period.

 

Crais motioned everyone closer together near the gate. The wounded and weak near the front, they would have to be brought on board first. He made sure everyone was out of the mine and had been assembled. He then moved to the edge of the trees and retrieved his transport pod, which he had landed just outside the fence.

 

He concentrated and asked Talyn to come down. A hush descended over the people gathered when the sky darkened and the most magnificent black Leviathan glided towards the ground. They stood in awe.

When Talyn had landed Crais guided the pod in first. He reappeared at the door of the Hangar bay and urged the people forward into Talyn.

 

The wounded and weak were carried in first, then all who could walk.

While monitoring Talyn, Crais kept an eye on all who came on board, especially the children. He couldn’t detect Armelia’s golden red hair nor anyone who resembled her but then again most people’s hairs and faces were black with soot.

 

Finally everyone was on board and none too soon, Talyn was already complaining about the strain of the lower gravity. Before going back to space, Talyn turned around to face the compound and a barrage from his heavy weapons destroyed the mining camp. It was no more.

 

With a shudder they took off from the planet. Once in space Talyn was happier and moved quickly away from the planet, after he had given confirmation that this was the only mining camp on Salathor.

Crais walked to a group of men, “Are there any more compounds to be found on Salathor?”

The men looked at their rescuer and thanked him profoundly but Crais had no patience for it. “Are there any more slave camps on Salathor?”

 

The men looked at each other, concerned that their thanks had so little effect on their saviour and they turned back to the man standing impatiently before them, one spoke up for them, “No, Salathor only has one mining camp. It is not inhabited. Why?”

“Wasn’t there a drop of new people at the mining camp a couple of Solar days ago?”

One of the men stepped forward, “Yes, a Scarran ship did land yesterday but took off almost immediately without unloading anyone. I overheard them, they were going to Azathor.”

Crais’ face turned pale and he reeled slightly. A ghost of pain flitted over his features. He managed to regain control quickly.

 

He left the Hangar Bay but the many hands that wanted to touch and thank him hampered his progress. His patience vanished rapidly and when he passed the galley, he appointed two men at random to oversee the well being of the people. He showed them where the food was kept in the galley and where clothes were stored. He showed them the infirmary and the medication availability and all but ordered them to create sense in the chaos.

 

The quiet of Command was almost a relief to him, “Any safe planets nearby Talyn?”

>Not that I know of Crais<

“We have to offload these people and set course to Azathor.”

>Crais you should…<

“I know Talyn but we need to get these people to safety and then proceed to Azathor. The Scarran ship which had Armelia on board has left the planet yesterday.”

>Maybe someone of the people here are familiar with the area and know of a safe planet. Maybe you should consider getting a small crew on board<

Crais scowled but saw sense in Talyn’s suggestion, “All right Talyn I will try.”

 

Talyn wasn’t happy with the way Crais looked. Maybe if they had a small crew on board Crais would take some rest. He had hardly allowed himself any rest and he hadn’t eaten for two solar days.

Crais left Command and moved back to the Hangar Bay where most of the people were assembled. His arrival made most people turn to him.

Crais just stood there and looked at the misery before him. It enraged him to see people in this condition. He recognised a variety of different races. Luxans, Sebaceans and Matiks were amongst the most prominent.

 

Slowly the Hangar Bay fell silent.

“Is there any among you who is familiar with this area,” he asked.

Two Luxans and one Sebacean stepped forward, “We are.”

“I need a safe or relatively safe planet, preferably en route to Azathor to drop everyone off.”

“There is such a planet,” one of the Luxans said, “it is not very far from here. Up till now it has been able to withstand all Scarran threats. Maybe it is because the planet has a rather cold and dense climate. It is named as one of the planets to flee to if we had been lucky to escape.”

“Do you know the coordinates or the position?”

“Yes.”

“Then give it to me.”

Once Crais had the coordinates he made Talyn set course to it.

 

He looked back at the people, “I will be going deeper into Scarran Territory. I will need volunteers to help me… liberate the mining camps and to coordinate the people on board once we have done so. Are there any volunteers among you?”

The three who had stepped forward with the information of the area moved to his side and were soon followed by three others, in total three Luxans, two Sebaceans and one Matik.

Crais nodded. He ordered five of them to coordinate matters and took the Luxan who had given him the coordinates with him to Command.

 

On the way Crais learned that the Luxan’s name was Dag’or.

In Command he spoke to Talyn, “This man will be part of the crew. He says he has knowledge of this area.”

Dag’or looked at Crais in confusion, who had he been talking to?

Crais turned to Dag’or, “I want you to tell my ship anything you can about this area. The planets, the distances, any safe planets and Scarran held planets. The information can save our lives and possibly any we will rescue.”

“How can I tell your ship?”

Crais let Talyn show them a view of the vector above the main console panel. The hologram showed Dag’or the vector they were in and as many planets as Talyn had been able to detect in the immediate area.

“That is amazing,” Dag’or said, “and I just tell your ship? (Crais nodded) Can I point?” He had stepped forward and touched the holographic view. Talyn shifted the view to where he had pointed and Dag’or’s face lit up in pleasure, “I will be delighted to instruct your ship.”

 

>Thank you< said Talyn over the comm.-link, his voice only slightly lighter than Crais’.

Dag’or turned to Crais, “Your Leviathan can speak?”

“Yes, it helps him communicate with others than me. He enjoys it.” Crais could feel a ripple of pleasure go through Talyn and smiled tiredly. He made to leave Command.

“How will you know when I am finished Captain?”

“My ship will inform me when we get to the planet. I will take a rest in my quarters.”

Dag’or nodded. The Captain looked as if he hadn’t slept for days, “Rest well Captain.”

 

 

Crais made his way to his quarters. Talyn had been right, he was tired and even that was an understatement. He took off his tunic but couldn’t be bothered with the rest. Apart from his two knives in the back of his belt, he lay on the bed fully clothed but sleep wouldn’t come. It turned over and over in his mind that he had missed Armelia by a day. The worry and frustration made his chest constrict painfully and he tried deep breaths to ease it. He was not successful and he turned into a ball to lessen it.

Talyn could feel his anguish and thought of a way to alleviate it. He flooded Crais’ room with purified oxygen and added some of his own energy to it. Within microns he detected a change in Crais. He seemed to be breathing easier. He sent out a “thank you” to Talyn before drifting off into some much needed sleep.

 

Talyn was worried. He had taken a big risk by flooding Crais’ room with oxygen, it could have easily harmed him. It been more instinct on Talyn’s part to choose for this option and luckily it had paid off but it wasn’t right. Pure or purified oxygen was harmful to most species and yet it gave comfort to Crais. Talyn promised himself to look into it when he had the time. For now he was just happy that Crais was finally resting.

 

Talyn turned his attention back to what Dag’or was explaining. At the same time he monitored Crais and the rest of the occupants.

One of the Sebaceans Crais had appointed was coordinating matters in Medical and was taking care of the weak and wounded.

One of the Luxans was coordinating the people in the galley and had found the food. Soon they had a multi-racial soup from the available ingredients going that would feed the multitude on board.

The other Sebacean had found clothing that had been left by people from former rescue-attempts and were distributing to the many who had only tatters to wear.

The other Luxan and the Matik were keeping order in the rest of the ship.

Talyn was pleased with the new crew. He only hoped that Crais would allow himself some more rest with others on board to help him run the day-to-day duties.

 

 

All too soon they approached the safe planet. Talyn considered leaving Crais to sleep but knew that Crais would wake up the micron he dropped in orbit. He had been right in his assumption and Crais spoke to him before he could say anything.

“Are we there yet Talyn,” Crais asked. The two-arn sleep had not been able to dissipate the exhaustion but at least had helped him to get a little rest.

>Yes Crais but why don’t you finish your rest? The others can coordinate the disembarkation<

“I will be in the angaHaHangar Bay shortly. Send the others to me.”

>Crais…<

“No arguments, Talyn!” Crais turned the transponder to privacy mode.

Crais put his tunic back on. He felt slightly better but when he looked in the mirror the same haggard face greeted him. Maybe later…

 

When he arrived in the Hangar Bay everyone was already assembled, waiting to get off.

Crais had turned his transponder back on and spoke to Talyn silently, “Do you see a possibility to land on the surface Talyn?”

>No Crais. The atmosphere is too dense. It has to be done by transport pod or other means<

“Open a channel to the authorities of the planet.” Once the channel was open Crais said, “I have about one-hundred-and-fifty refugees on board from the mining camp of Salathor. I ask permission to have them transferred to your planet. Do you have the means to help me transfer them? There are many weak and wounded, that will need medical assistance.”

 

First there was silence on the other side of the link and Crais wondered if they would be rejected. Then a voice answered, “What has happened to the mining colony?”

“It is no more and the Scarrans are dead.”

The voice came back to him and Crais could detect a note akin to excitement in it, “And you are sure of this, Captain…”

“I prefer to keep my name to myself but, yes, the mining colony is no longer operational.”

“We will be delighted to take the refugees. We will dispatch transportation immediately.”

 

Crais closed the comm.-link and turned to the people around him, “The planet will take you in. Hopefully many of you will find your way back to your own home planets.”

The gratitude on the people’s faces almost made Crais turn away. He wished he could do more for them but knew he couldn’t.

 

They didn’t have to wait long before the first transport ship arrived and within the arn Talyn was cleared of all the refugees. Only the new crew of six remained. Crais had ordered them to refresh first and then to join him in the Hangar Bay.

 

Before leaving his quarters Crais had ensured that he had credits on him and now motioned the men over to the transport pod, “We will go down to get you properly outfitted and to get some more weaponry. We will also need more food and medicines.”

They followed Crais into the pod. When Benim, one of the Sebaceans, noticed how tired Crais looked he offered to fly the transport pod. Crais let him do so willingly.

 

Instead of resting Crais turned to his new crew and learned that the other two Luxans were called Dez’or and Maz’ir, the two Sebaceans were Benim and Valtor and the Matik was called Metak.

All had similar stories to tell of their capture. They had been on the wrong planet at the wrong time when the Scarrans came to raid the planet. They had fought but to no avail and now sought a way to repay the Scarrans. If Crais was the man to provide it for them they would accept it with pleasure.

When they asked him for his name, Crais told them that “Captain” would suffice. The others looked at each other. Only Benim and Dag’or had accepted it without questioning.

Crais leaned back in his seat and had closed his eyes.

 

Benim looked over at him. His new Captain looked as if death could claim him every micron. Yet, Benim had been one of the first to see him enter the mine and he had been a totally different man. The Captain’s features had scared him. He had appeared like the devil himself. The “Captain” sitting next to him looked as if he could collapse any moment. His face was pale, lined with pain, he had dark circles under his eyes and there was sweat on his brow. Not a healthy sign for a Sebacean. He had obviously not shaved for days.

As if Crais could sense that someone was watching him he flicked his eyes open and looked at Benim intently.

“Captain, if you don’t mind me saying, I think you should rest.”

Crais practically growled at him, “I will once I found what I’m looking for.”

“How long will that take?”

“As long as necessary.”

 

 

Once on the planet Crais took them a clothes shop. He couldn’t care less what they chose to wear as long as it was combat comfortable and not in bright colours.

He left Valtor and Maz’ir to restock on food. Metak and Dez’or he left to take care of medical supplies. He took Benim and Dag’or with him.

 

Benim was pleased to notice that his new Captain had noticed where each of them had used their best abilities once they had been assigned the tasks with the refugees. He also came to recognise Crais’ limp as a sure sign how tired his Captain was. Right now he nearly dragged his leg.

 

After some careful questioning Crais and his men were directed to the outskirts of the town and entered the shop of a weapon monger. Here Crais bartered for frag guns, grenades, kinetic dischargers, ammunition and personal protection for six men.

They agreed on a price and Crais was about to pay when the door opened and a handsome young man stepped in, “You will not sell the weapons to him.”

Crais whirled around in anger, “What gives you the right…”

 

The young man continued to the proprietor, “You will give it to him and double the ammunition. I will pay for it.”

Crais looked at him in surprise, “May I ask why you are doing this?”

“My brother and my sister were taken by the Scarrans about ten cycles ago. I do not harbour any hope that they are still alive but I hope you will allow me to contribute to your quest.”

Crais nodded in understanding.

 

“Will you do me the honour of dining with me before you leave,” asked the man.

Crais shook his head, “I am sorry to disappoint you. We will leave immediately after the supplies are gathered.”

“That won’t be for another two arns,” said Benim helpfully.

Crais shot him an angry glance.

“That is settled then,” said the young man, “I will also arrange for your other crewmembers to be dined and “entertained” and I will make arrangements to have extra provisions and medical supplies send to your pod. If you would like to come with me, it is not far from here.”

Crais could only accept. Benim and Dag’or went with him.

 

The young man’s name was Levarthes and in his house they were presented with a lavish banquet. Benim and Dag’or yelped with joy, “Pity the others can’t be here, we will have to eat for three.”

Crais, although he had not eaten for two Solar Days, wasn’t hungry. When Benim saw that Crais had not chosen any food he took it on himself to prepare a plate with the finest morsels and put that in front of Crais. Other than picking at it Crais made no attempt to finish his plate.

“The food is not to your liking,” asked Levarthes, “I could always…”

“It is not the food,” Crais assured him, “I am rather anxious to be on my way. I have already lost valuable time.”

 

Levarthes looked at Crais. He seemed to be in worse shape than his crewmembers. “Have you been injured recently,” he asked quietly so only Crais could hear him.

“Minor,” Crais answered him.

Levarthes doubted that, “Do you want to visit a Healer while you are waiting?”

Crais looked at him with a shocked expression, “I have no time to waste!”

 

It confirmed Levarthes’ suspicions, “Maybe my personal Healer can provide you with painkillers.”

Crais was about to object but knew Levarthes had a valid point. He nodded, “Very well, I will accept.”

Levarthes could see the pride in the man’s eyes and the reluctance to own up to his present condition, “Come with me while your crewmembers are finishing their meal.”

Crais got up to follow Levarthes. The brief rest showed him how tired he really was.

Levarthes had noticed this too, “How long ago since you sustained the injury?”

“Almost a weeken ago.”

“Does it… trouble you much?”

Crais didn’t answer him. To admit would be unacceptable and self-weakening and Crais couldn’t afford to that admission.

 

The Healer only confirmed what Crais already didn’t want to know, “The tissue around the lung and heart section is still healing but you need rest to let it heal properly. The longer you wait, the more it will aggravate the condition and the walls of the heart and lungs will thin. The longer you leave it the more chance of a rupture. You will experience the symptoms of Kevolek-syndrome and over time it will get worse, unless you will undergo an operation to restore the walls.”

 

Crais jumped off the table where the Healer had been examining him and clasped his tunic close, “At present I do not have the time to rest, I will soon. Is there anything that will diminish the symptoms?”

The Healer looked worriedly at his patient, “Painkillers will take away the immediate effect. Also, since the symptoms will be very much alike, medication against Kevolek-syndrome. Tests have been done with purified air to help strengthen the lungs, with mixed results. I advise you to avoid strenuous exercises and strong emotional stress. Both can make the condition worse. I do beseech you to have an operation soon and to rest.”

“I will, once I find my daughter.”

 

On Levarthes’ insistence the Healer made up a large measure of painkillers and medication against Kevolek and write the ingredients on a slip of paper. Crais folded this and put it in his sleeve pocket together with some of the painkillers. On the insistence of the Healer he took one and felt an immediate relief.

 

 

When he and Levarthes walked back, Levarthes looked at him, “I know you are looking for your daughter now but will you heed the Healer’s words and seek help once you have found her?”

Crais looked at him and nodded.

 

Levarthes continued, “If you give a description and the name of your daughter I can let my traders look out for her as well, just in case she had managed to escape. Will I be able to send word to you?”

“What is it that you want in return,” asked Crais without answering him.

“Very astute, Captain. It is true I want something of you too but it isn’t something tangible. I told you the Scarrans took my brother and sister ten cycles ago and I had already given up hope to ever seeing them again. When you said you were going deeper in Scarran Territory, for the first time in ten cycles hope was rekindled in me. Maybe you are the man who can bring me news of their existence, or their death, or even return them to me. You are the first man who has ever endeavoured and succeeded in freeing the mining and slave camps. You are the man who has given me hope.”

 

Crais turned to Levarthes, “Give me their names and descriptions and I will look for them too.” He pondered his next answer, “My daughter’s name is Armelia, she is ten cycles old and has red blond hair, she has a tattoo on her left shoulder. If you want to leave word for me, you can use these frequencies (he gave him Talyn’s frequencies) or leave word for Captain Xercus.”

“Thank you, Captain Xercus.”

 

When they reached Levarthes’ home Dag’or and Benim were already waiting for him. After Crais received the information of Levarthes’ siblings they left for the transport pod. The supplies and the others were already waiting for them and shortly they were on their way to Talyn.

 

 

Crais left the others to sort out the supplies and accommodation for themselves, while he moved to Command. He wasn’t at all surprised that Benim followed him, “You have something on your mind, Benim?”

“Sir, it will be close to a Solar day before we reach Azathor. I can stand watch in Command while you rest. I have been in battle situations before. I believe you must rest…”

 

Crais turned angrily towards him. “If I want your opinion on that, I will ask for it but I don’t. I don’t need rest. I need to find my daughter. We will be in Azathor in less than a Solar day. Now, go to the others and get yourself changed into something more appropriate.”

His anger left him reeling and he leaned against the bulkhead.

 

Benim looked at him and realised that Crais would not appreciate his help in steadying him, “Captain, we will need your sound judgement once we get there. Your rest will be beneficial in our mission. You are in no condition to help us at present.”

Crais glared at him and knew he was right. To Benim’s surprise he conceded, “But I want to be alerted once we get near or when we get in a potential dangerous situation.”

“Yes Sir!” Benim smiled at him.

With a growl Crais went to his quarters.

 

 

Azathor was almost a repeat performance of Salathor. The ferociousness of the attack now enhanced by six more men set on killing Scarrans. Yet, even Crais’ new crew was appalled by Crais’ viciousness when killing all Scarrans. Men and women alike, he made no distinction.

 

Two mining camps and one slave camp were liberated that day. Total tally: four-hundred-and-fifty-two people but Armelia wasn’t among them.

Crais was wounded on the second raid but it did not deter him from leading the third raid. They did loose Metak on the third raid.

 

This time they managed to secure a Scarran transport ship to carry all the people. Crais and Talyn stayed long enough with the transport ship to alert the authorities of Rhagnor that he was sending in another load of refugees and only waited long enough for them to acknowledge their status before taking off with Talyn immediately.

 

On a secure channel to Levarthes, Crais left a signature: any Scarran or transport ship bearing the signature would carry freed refugees or messages from Crais, this way Talyn and Crais wouldn’t have to accompany the refugees every time they freed another group.

 

 

Benim was worried for his new Captain. Once back in space Crais was to be found in Command to watch the stars, while Talyn plotted a new course.

Crais allowed the others to rest and bind their wounds; yet, he didn’t rest himself. The loss of Metak didn’t seem to touch him.

 

Benim followed him into Command. He noticed that Crais lurched with fatigue. The wound on his shoulder must give him grief too. His clothes were bloodstained with Scarran blood and his own.

“Captain…” Benim started.

“What,” Crais growled in annoyance at the one who had been silently accepted as his second in command.

“It will take two solar days before we reach Avathor. You should change and rest. Let me tend to your injury. I can take over watch while you rest.”

“I’m fine,” growled Crais.

“I beg to differ, Captain. Your shoulder needs attending. You don’t want to die of a simple infection.”

Crais glared at him. Then, as if a switch was thrown, leaned on the console in exhaustion. He nodded and let Benim lead him to Medical.

 

When Crais shrugged out of his tunic, Benim couldn’t suppress a gasp when he saw Crais’ chest wound. It had not reopened but the area was fiery red as if a fever was burning there, “Captain…”

Crais lifted a weary head, “What?”

“Your injuries…”

“They are not debatable. You can treat the shoulder. I will use the Refresher and change into clothes and take a brief rest. I will relieve you soon in Command,” his determination and secrecy was back in place.

 

Benim frowned but did not pursue the subject. He treated Crais’ shoulder and then made sure he was going to his quarters to rest before returning to Command.

While Crais was resting Talyn flooded the room with purified air and added his energy to it. He could feel the easing of Crais’ pain.

 

 

In the following cycle they liberated many. Valtor died on the fifth expedition, Dez’or was badly injured on their ninth and Maz’ir decided to stay with him on the last planet, where they left the last refugees, to wait until he had recuperated and then they would go to Rhagnor.

 

Dag’or and Benim stayed with Crais until well into the second cycle of his search. They had many replacements for the first four lost during that time.

Finally Dag’or announced he was leaving the crew to go in search of his own family. Crais provided him with enough credits to be able to do so and live comfortably for a while.

 

Benim knew why Dag’or had left. They had spoken of it previously when they were on their own. The voracity of their Captain had grown beyond proportion in the last cycles. The more disappointment he met in finding his daughter the stronger his hatred had become.

Dag’or had no problem with killing the slave-masters but when Crais, on a few of the raids, started killing every Scarran in sight, including children, it became too much for him.

Benim started to worry for Crais’ sanity, as well as for his health.

 

Benim would walk into Command only to find his Captain talking, yelling and pleading with his ship. The ship had become just as crazed and obsessed as his Captain and would lash out at him even before the next group of refugees had left the ship.

 

Crais’ health had deteriorated as well and it was on many occasions now that Benim would walk into Command after a raid and find his Captain unconscious on the floor. He knew by now that Crais was carrying medication for his condition in his sleeve pocket and it would give him a brief relief, yet he would refuse further help after Benim had carried him to his quarters.

 

On Benim’s insistence Crais finally went to see a Healer on one of the Sebacean planets where the Healer confirmed the symptoms as Kevolek-syndrome but Benim had his doubts. Crais wouldn’t listen to those doubts when Benim spoke with him.

 

Crais’ mind only knew three overriding thoughts: Find Armelia, Free the slaves and Punish the injustices of the Scarrans.

 

Raiding the Scarran mining colonies became fraught with danger. They were now alerted by evidence rather than rumours, that a lone gunship and its crew were raiding the planets and freeing the slaves, more and more mining colonies were now protected by Scarran forces. This, however, did not deter Crais and Talyn to pursue their madness and Benim wondered whether to stay on or part company. He still felt bound to his Captain; someone had to look after him.

 

 

One evening, halfway in the third cycle, Crais came to Benim’s quarters. This had happened on only two occasions before and Benim was surprised to see him.

 

Crais was in a bad state but lucid. He clung to the doorjamb and didn’t protest when Benim guided him to a chair.

“Benim,” Crais spoke softly to him, “You have been with me for over two cycles. You have been a good friend and a good comrade. I know, I haven’t said as much to you to appreciate your presence.” Crais was pale and his breathing seemed to have taken a terrible turn.

“Captain…”

“Hear me out Benim. For over two cycles you have accepted my command, my madness. I realise I cannot continue killing like this. We have killed innocents, we have lost friends, yet you do not complain.

You have tended to my injuries. You have looked after my health, even when I had been reluctant to let you do so. If it hadn’t been for you I could have died many times over. You have been more than a good Second in Command.”

 

Benim was wondering where the Captain might be leading the conversation. He was surprised that his Captain was praising him now after so long and a small feeling of dread crept in.

Crais coughed and it left him speechless for a couple of microts. He continued with a small thoughtful frown, “You have been the only one who have never asked me for my name and still accepted my commands without questions. I feel you have a right to know who you are dealing with. It is only fair.”

Crais took a deep breath, “I am Captain Bialar Crais and the ship is named Talyn.”

“I know Captain,” Benim said softly.

It was Crais’ turn to look up in surprise,” You knew?”

 

“I had my suspicions in the first monen. Over time this was strengthened. I used to serve on your Command Carrier. I was still serving her when you left. Serving under Scorpius was Hezmana. You couldn’t tell who your friends or your comrades were anymore. You couldn’t say what you thought anymore without the fear of disappearing. I was there when you blew up the Command Carrier and like many I found the courage to escape the Peacekeeper’s regime.”

 

Benim looked intently at Crais, “When you liberated the colony that was holding me, I thought you bore s strong resemblance to Captain Crais but like everyone I had believed you dead. Crais’ gunship had been red, this one was black and I doubted my memory. The Captain Crais I knew would not have given a second thought about other species, as I used to do before I had to work in the mines. Yet, you accepted a mixed alien crew without knowing them, other than their names and the willingness to fight beside you.

Over the last two cycles I have come to respect you as a commander, I have been worried about your sanity and your health. Still, what you… What we have done over the last two and a half cycles are what the old Peacekeepers would have done. Fight injustice for whatever reasons.”

 

“Yet you didn’t say anything.”

“You had your reasons to remain dead to everyone, I can understand that. The Captain is someone removed from the Captain Bialar Crais as we were believed him to be. Your secret is safe with me.”

“I do not doubt that, Benim,” said Crais softly, “I would not have told you, would I have believed otherwise.”

“But there is something else on your mind also?”

“Yes,” answered Crais, his brows pinched in thought, “I am going deeper in Scarran Territory. I do not know how long my search is going to last. I cannot expect you or the others to get killed.”

“But Captain…”

 

Crais held up his hand, “I know that you are loyal to me, dear friend but I cannot bear the thought of losing you as well. We have already lost more than enough comrades. I have to go alone.”

“But your health…”

“Is my concern.”

“Who will help you…”

 

Crais stood up and took Benim by the shoulders, ‘Benim, I have come to regard you as a brother in arms. I have already lost a brother. I do not want to loose another one. I have noticed the risks you are taking in protecting my back. There will come a day that your protection of me will cost you dearly.

I want you to leave Talyn and lead the others to safety. They have deserved that. You deserve that. I want you to take them to Rhagnor. I will give them and you credits to set up a new life. I want you to go to Levarthes. He will remember you, with a letter from me. In this letter I will ask him to set you up with a new life. He owes that to you and me for saving and returning his siblings to him. I don’t know if I will ever have the chance to remind him of that favour but I want him to honour that to you. I don’t think he will object.”

Crais smiled, it was a sad smile, “I want you to be able to lead the life I might never have a chance to lead, please.”

 

Benim was moved by Crais’ words and at the same time torn between his loyalties to his Captain and the tempting offer, “I can’t leave you…”

Crais’ eyes bore sadly into his, “Benim don’t make me beg you to do this for me. Don’t make me go back on my resolve. Lead the others to safety!”

 

Benim squared his shoulders, “All right Captain, I will and I hope to see you again when this is over.”

There was almost a look of gratitude in Crais’ eyes. It saddened Benim. He didn’t want to leave Crais alone on Talyn to search and fight on his own.

 

Crais reached inside his tunic and produced a roll, which held the letter to Levarthes, “Give this to Levarthes. Tell him it is from Captain Xercus. I will send word once my search is ended.”

“There is one thing,” Crais took Benim’s shoulder, “Do not tell him that The Captain and Bialar Crais are the same person. I will remain “dead” until I see fit to come “alive” again.”

 

He produced a pouch, which held the credits as a parting gift to the crew, “Divide this among you and the crew. Use the bigger transport. I have already put the supplies for your journey in there. Keep well and safe my friend.”

Crais clasped Benim’s forearm in the old military style of brothers in arms and left the room quickly. Benim didn’t see him after that. It was left to him to gather the crew and break the news.

 

 

Benim guided the pod out of Talyn and set course for Rhagnor. He kept looking back at Talyn until he couldn’t see the gunship anymore.

 

 

Crais stood in Command and watched the little pod getting smaller in Talyn’s viewers and he wished them a silent goodbye.

>Why did you let them leave Crais?< Talyn asked in wonderment.

“I could not risk their lives as well, Talyn, especially Benim’s. He had been a good friend to me… us.”

>I understand Crais. It is just you and me again<

“Yes, my old friend, just you and me.”

 

Crais stared at the pod until it was no more than a pinprick against the multitude of stars, “Just you and me.”

 

4: Getting help

 

For five Cycles he persisted in his pursuit for Armelia, straying deeper into Scarran controlled territory.

He had not realised, nor would he want to admit to it, that his health was suffering. The wounds he had sustained at the beginning of his quest had never healed properly and although the wounds had closed, the muscles had knitted together in a twisted fashion and the tissue around his heart had thinned dangerously.

 

At times of stress it would leave him gasping for breath and would even restrict his chest painfully to the point of incapacity.

He had relented enough to have another Healer look at it who had confirmed it as Kevolek-syndrome, a condition common in older Sebaceans. Crais had put it down to his long-term link with Talyn. The medication and the painkillers eased the symptoms but Crais would not admit to himself that he had to increase the dosage regularly.

 

 

In the third Cycle of his search he encountered the Moya-crew or to be more precise. Talyn had contacted Moya. Talyn had picked up her signature and was elated to know his mother was still alive. They had lost contact for eight Cycles since Starburst from the Command Carrier and he had believed her dead. Besides he feared for Crais’ well-being. He had relayed Moya’s presence in the vicinity to Crais and he told him that he wished to speak to her. Crais had gladly complied, he was happy that Talyn had found his mother. They waited for her at the rendezvous point.

 

 

When Crais came down from the transport pod, the Moya-crew looked at him in surprise. His hair hung loose and his thick curls of raven black hair reached the middle of his back and framed his face. He still kept his beard neatly trimmed in a goatee but his face was drawn and pale, only his eyes burned dark like coals. His cheeks were slightly reddened with fever-spots.

Aeryn noticed he had thinned and wondered if he had been taking care of himself

 

Gone was the Peacekeeper uniform and was now replaced by tight fitting black clothes and clasped black thigh high boots. To Crichton he resembled a pirate of old.

When he walked up to them, they noticed his heavy limp but nothing in the way he carried himself showed that it would deter him in his movements.

 

He stopped two paces in front of them, “Aeryn, Crichton, Ka D’Argo, Rygel, Chiana.” He nodded to each of them and silently acknowledged the presence of the others he didn’t know. He greeted them as if he had only last seen them two Solar days ago.

 

Aeryn’s first urge had been to step forward and embrace him but the Crais they saw before them seemed even more aloof then the one who had Starbursted in the Command Carrier eight Cycles ago.

“Crais, my man,” Crichton greeted him in the familiar way and stepped forward, His big grin froze on his face with Crais’ icy stare. “How’re you doing,” Crichton finished lamely.

“As well as can be expected,” answered Crais in his deep, calm voice. The others almost felt sorry that Aeryn and Crichton had asked him to come on board.

Aeryn turned to Crais, “We had thought you had died.”

“My demise has been overstated, I can assure you.”

“But there was no word of you anywhere.”

“Then nobody will look for me or Talyn.”

“Where have you been all that time?”

“Around.”

 

Finally Crichton had enough of the one-sided conversation, “I know you are not a very talkative person, Crais, but even by your standards you must admit it is very sparse and is hardly telling us anything.”

Crais shifted his gaze to Crichton, “It was Talyn who was anxious to speak with his mother. I can always go back and wait until they have finished.” He made to turn, making it quite clear that it hadn’t been his choice to meet them.

 

“At least have a meal with us and tell us where you have been the last eight Cycles.”

“Crichton I don’t…”

“Frell, Crais, when did you last have a decent meal? You look like dren!”

Crais turned around abruptly, his eyes smouldering like fire, “I don’t need your sympathy Crichton!”

“Then why come on board if you don’t want to be sociable?”

Crais was silent. He couldn’t bring himself to say that Talyn had shut down the environmental systems, almost literally driving him off his own ship, “Very well, I will have a meal with you.”

 

 

They moved to the galley. Crais moved surprisingly fast for someone with a heavy limp. “So, when did you become Hop-a-long then,” asked Crichton.

Crais looked at him in confusion, his translator microbes couldn’t translate it, “Oppalung?”

“No, Hop-a… Oh, forget it. Your leg?”

Crais flinched, he didn’t want to be reminded of his injury, yet it wasn’t something that was easily hidden. The only answer he gave was a scowl.

 

Once seated in the galley, Aeryn put bowls of Tarkelian stew out for everyone. Crais, despite his earlier objections, ate quickly and was finished even before Rygel. With the last bite he noticed that everyone was staring at him and he looked over his plate at the others.

“Not hungry, huh,” smirked Crichton.

 

Crais laid his spoon on the plate; the last bite uneaten and stood up from the table. He turned without a word and left the room.

Aeryn bristled at Crichton. “What did I do,” he asked innocently.

Aeryn rolled her eyes and left the galley in search of Crais.

 

 

He had just entered his transport pod when she caught up with him and she followed him inside. He sat at the controls but made no movement to take off.

Aeryn looked at him, saw the lines of pain and tension in the corners of his mouth, noticed the pallor of his skin and the determined set of his jaw. “Your leg hurting you?”

 

He looked at her defiantly and then nodded.

“Can we help?”

“No, I’ve tried a Healer a while ago. It has been too long now.”

“When was the last time you have eaten Crais?”

His mouth twitched, “Was it that obvious?”

She nodded.

 

He looked away, “I don’t know, two, three Solar days.”

She looked aghast at him, the indifference had shocked her, “If you are in need of supplies…”

“More supplies would be welcome but I have enough on board.”

“Then why…”

“Lack of time. I am… searching for someone.”

“Can we help you in your search?”

 

He was about to say ‘No’ when he changed his mind, “Yes, you may be able to help. I am looking for a little girl.” He looked at her, “Armelia, my daughter.”

Aeryn was shocked, “Your daughter? How… How old is she?”

“About thirteen Cycles old,” when he saw the surprise on her face he explained, “She is my adopted daughter.”

 

“Adopted daughter,” Aeryn said haltingly, “Why, Crais, and how?”

“She came on board about six Cycles ago and became my adopted daughter four Cycles ago. For a Cycle I thought fate was finally looking kindly on me, she was a lovely little girl. Both Talyn and I… love her. We raised her, taught her everything we know. Her laughter filled the lonely corridors. Then, about three Cycles ago, the Scarrans took her. They have taken away our joy. I have been looking for her ever since.”

Aeryn had noticed that his breathing had quickened while he related the story and sounded shallow. Still it was with a surprise that by the end he clutched his chest, moaned and all but keeled forward.

 

She stood up and laid her hand on his shoulder, “Crais, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing… The anxiety…”

“You are ill!”

“I’ll manage,” he turned to the controls.

“Oh no, you are not leaving us until you’ve had a rest!” She wrestled his hands from the controls.

“Officer Sun, this is most unbecoming,” he gritted through his teeth. Her strength close to his own in normal circumstances now proved to be superior.

 

She took the transport key away from its slot and pocketed it. She looked down at Crais who was breathing quickly and shallowly. His dark eyes were filled with anger.

“Crais, you are not well, admit it!” She glared at him with a mixture of anger and concern.

He glared back at her, “No more than a passing weakness.”

She walked away, taking the key with her, “You can sit here if you like or you can come back and rest. I don’t care.” She left the pod.

 

He sat at the controls for a moment, getting himself under control and followed her shortly. He found her waiting for him outside. She turned without a word and walked out of the Hangar Bay. He followed her.

In the eight Cycles since he had last been on board Moya, the ship had created some more rooms to accommodate for passengers. Aeryn directed him to one of the unoccupied ones. “Rest” was all she said before she left the room.

 

He took one of his painkillers before he undressed and slid under the covers, at least she had not dragged him to Medical. He had to admit to feeling extremely tired and was asleep very soon.

 

 

She looked in on him soon after that, armed with a medical scanner. As a precaution she had switched off the audible mode. She didn’t want to wake him up and she approached the bed. She looked at his sleeping form. Even sleep could not erase the lines of pain and worry he had carefully masked earlier. She let the scanner run over him and was concerned with the readings.

She knew she hadn’t made a sound but his eyes flew open. “Aeryn,” he said hoarsely, “What are you doing here?” He noticed the scanner in her hand and his eyes reduced into slits.

“You are very ill, Crais, you need rest.”

“Which I would have had if you would have left me alone. I have to find Armelia first.”

 

“The scanner shows you are exhausted, readings on all your bio-signatures are low and there is evidence of diminished lung capacity, if you continue to neglect yourself and you’ll find an early death.”

Crais threw the covers off him, heedless that he was naked, got out of bed and dressed, “If you could give me the key back.”

“Crais…”

“Then I will return to Talyn…”

“Crais…” Aeryn grew annoyed.

“…I have a daughter to find.”

“Crais!”

He turned around and looked at her.

 

“You are in no condition to do anything. You need rest and nourishment! Maybe we can help.”

“Maybe, Aeryn Sun but what would happen if Crichton saw you leave this room?”

“Frell Crichton! I want you in Medical!”

“Why? To confirm what I already know?”

“Know what?”

“That I have Kevolek syndrome,” it was obvious that he had not liked voicing it. He sat down on the edge of the bed, suddenly very tired.

 

“But you are too young…”

“It was diagnosed two-and-a-half Cycles ago. I can live to be a hundred-and-fifty with it or it could be over tomorrow. I need to find Armelia first. I don’t know how much time I have left.”

She resisted the urge to embrace him, to comfort him. “Is that the reason you didn’t want to come on board,” she asked him softly.

“I don’t need sympathy but Talyn has shut down the environmental systems for a purge.”

 

Aeryn’s face was warring between laughter and thunder, “At least one of you two is thinking clearly! It is not wrong to ask for assistance from friends, Crais! It’s not wrong to ask for help!”

“Friends? I must admit I was surprised that nobody had their pulse pistols drawn when I came on board but it was not friendship I saw, only surprise. I don’t think things have changed that much, only the readiness to shoot me has slowed down.”

 

Aeryn glared at him, “You are still as stubborn and still as arrogant as ever, aren’t you Bialar Crais? You haven’t changed a bit!”

Her words stung. She could see an almost perceptible drop of his shoulders, “Maybe you are right Aeryn, maybe I haven’t changed and I had better be on my way.”

 

 

Three things happened almost at once.

Crais got up from the bed, found that his leg muscles had gone to sleep and fell forward.

Aeryn saw him fall and stepped forwards.

 

Crichton had been looking for them, got attracted by the loud voices and opened the door to the room.

Crais fell forward and was caught by Aeryn by his middle, Crais’ hands landed on Aeryn’s shoulders to find support, Crichton saw them in what looked like an embrace.

“Crais!” Crichton shouted in anger.

Crais looked over at Crichton, “This is not what it seems.”

 

Crichton had closed the distance in three big strides, “You haven’s changed, have you? You are still after Aeryn!”

“Crichton…”

“Get your filthy hands off her!”

“John…”

 

Crais tried to step back and gritted his teeth when he balanced on his bad leg, his left leg was still in pins and needles. He sat back on the bed.

“John, you can be such a drannit,” Aeryn scowled at him, “Crais was off balance. Nothing more, nothing less. What should I have done, dropped him?”

Crichton looked in disbelief from Crais to Aeryn.

 

The pins and needles had finally stopped bothering Crais and he stood up from the bed. He looked at Aeryn, “Can I have my key back.”

“You are staying, Crais!”

“I don’t want to bother you.”

“You are staying and that is final.”

Crichton’s eyes formed into slits, “If the man wants to leave, why can’t he?” The old suspicion was back.

“Because he needs our help.”

 

Crais looked darkly at Aeryn.

“In what way, Wonder boy,” Crichton asked Crais.

Crais bristled with anger, “I am not your “boy”, Crichton or anyone else’s. Don’t worry, I’ll find her on my own.”

 

Crais tried to get past Crichton but was stopped by a hand on his chest. “Who are you looking for Crais? Another one of your victims?”

Crais’ hand shot out to Crichton’s wrist. While holding Crichton’s hand in an iron grip, he applied pressure to the inside of Crichton’s underarm with his forefinger. Crichton’s expression turned into that of pain while he tried to extricate his arm from Crais’ grasp, he stopped when Crais applied more pressure.

 

Crais spoke low and deep, “You tell me I haven’t changed, maybe you are right and maybe you are wrong. The truth is that the one person who hasn’t changed is you, John Crichton. You still believe you know everything better. You still believe I have designs on Aeryn. You still believe I am your enemy and you still believe everyone likes your jokes.” He had emphasized each point by applying pressure. By the time he had finished, Crichton would have thought his arm had gone dead if it wasn’t for the pain. Aeryn had not intervened and had seen how Crais’ face turned paler. Finally Crais let go of his arm. Crichton cradled it with his other arm. Crais turned towards the door.

“Yo! Crais! What’s eating you?”

 

Crais turned, his brow darker than they were used to seeing.

“Nothing but your attitude,” growled Crais.

“My attitude? You complain about MY attitude,” Crichton shouted at him in annoyance, “What about yours? You come to us. You behave like we are nothing but dren to you. You haven’t lost your frelling arrogance and you want to complain about MY attitude? That is just too much. Anything else you want to complain about? Maybe Moya’s colour is too drab or the food too rich. It was quite obvious that you hadn’t eaten for a while, yet when I make a remark you leave in a huff and a puff.” Crichton was getting angry.

 

“I don’t know what you told Aeryn but, boy, it must be a really good story to get her all mushy about you. What is it?  A tale of “nobody understands me”? Or “everybody hates me”? Well, surprise, surprise. After an absence of eight Cycles nothing has changed. You are still the same arrogant son of a bitch. You are still the same man who believes he’s an ex-Peacekeeper. My eema. You just feel sorry that you are not a Peacekeeper Captain anymore.”

Crais had listened to Crichton’s tirade in silence, his brow darkening.

 

Aeryn recognised the danger signs and feared that Crais might kill Crichton for it. She had also seen how Crais had paled. She had to put a stop to this, “Can’t we talk about this like a adults instead of children screaming at each other?”

Both men looked at her. “I am not screaming,” they said almost in unison.

 

Had the situation been less serious Aeryn would have laughed, instead her own anger and worry slipped through her voice, “We have to sit down and talk about it, rationally. No screaming, no shouting, no name calling or physical contact.”

Crais nodded and after a couple of microts Crichton followed suit. Aeryn breathed a sigh of relief. She left briefly to get Crais a glass of water.

 

 

Crais sat in the chair near the desk, while Aeryn and Crichton sat opposite him on the edge of the bed. Aeryn had strategically positioned herself between the two men.

“Well,” asked Crichton.

Crais looked at them, “I have an adopted daughter, Armelia Crais, she is about thirteen Cycles now. The Scarrans took her about three Cycles ago. I have been looking for her ever since, they have taken her in all probability to one of their mining colonies.”

“Any distinguishing marks?”

“A small tattoo on her left shoulder, with this design,” Crais drew the pattern on a sheet. Aeryn looked at it and looked at him in surprise.

 

“What is it,” Crichton asked Aeryn in curiosity.

“It is a family tattoo, it gives the names Vantz and Crais.”

“Well, why the surprise. He said she was his adopted daughter.”

“Only the name Vantz would have been enough. By linking the two names he is implying a blood relationship. Did you…”

 

“No but the child needed a father’s name,” Crais’ voice grew quiet, “you have no idea of the prejudices in the colonies. This way she might have a better chance in finding a Bondmate in one of the colonies.”

Aeryn thought about her own tattoo, it had only been her mother’s family name. In the Peacekeepers that was all that was necessary. Crais, being male, only needed the name of his father’s family. “That was very thoughtful, Crais.” Crais shrugged his shoulders.

 

Crichton looked at both of them, not fully comprehending what was going on. He turned his attention to Crais, “Have you been able to find any clues about her whereabouts yet?”

“Only that it must be in this sector. I just had not realised how many mining colonies the Scarrans had,” he drew a hand over his tired face.

 

“How do you go about finding her? Maybe you’re overlooking something.”

Crais shook his head, “By freeing all slaves of the mining colonies.” Crais had stated it as if it had been the most natural thing in the universe to do.

Aeryn stared at him and said in a near whisper, “You are the Dark Captain.”

“Is that how they call me now,” said Crais with a deep throaty chuckle.

 

Crichton looked at them in confusion, “Is someone going to enlighten me? The Dark Captain. I have heard about him but I thought he was just a rumour to scare kids.”

Aeryn explained without taking her eyes off Crais, “For Cycles there had been rumours of a Captain and a black gunship saving people in the Uncharted Territories. Then quite suddenly he disappeared from the scene and rumours started in Scarran territory of a Dark Captain and his crew, saviour of many and the scourge of the Scarrans. The brutality with which whole Scarran villages and towns were being wiped out goes beyond belief. On the other hand, all who were enslaved were saved.”

Aeryn looked in awe, fear and disgust at Crais, “Do you really have to slaughter all Scarrans?”

Crais stayed silent.

 

When Aeryn saw Crichton’s face she explained, “Men, women and children. Killed by one man. A killer dressed in black. The few who have survived can only remember his eyes, which burn like fire. According to the stories, his guns are supercharged and his sword swats an even deadlier path. Some believe he has superhuman powers and cannot be killed. There are strange reports that he is able to call down fire from heaven and how he manages to disappear in thin air. The price on his head is tremendous. And on his crew.” She looked at Crais.

Still Crais had not replied.

 

Aeryn continued, “The freed slaves speak of a different man. They speak of a dark giant who kills the slavers with cold precision, a man who doesn’t speak much but who searches among the children. Of a black ship that descents from Heaven to bring them to a safe haven. Some people describe him with magical hair, which protects him against all assaults. Others say he has no hair at all. None can remember his face. There was mentioning of six who fought beside him for a while. Where is your crew now? Moya didn’t say anything about others on your ship! No wonder we didn’t make the connection that it could be you.  Besides, you are presumed dead!”

 

Crichton looked at Crais, “You can’t leave us now without an explanation, Crais.”

“I can if I want to,” said Crais, meeting his gaze, “It might even be better if you don’t know.”

“A bit late for that, Wonder boy, we have already figured out who you are. Why don’t you start at the beginning?”

 

 

Crais looked down at his hands on the desk, “Talyn and I did survive Starburst but had been flung far into the Uncharted Territories. Somehow during Starburst he lost one of his propulsion fins. It took him half a Cycle to regrow the fin and to recuperate. We both needed that time.”

 

“Is that how you got the gimp? Your leg,” added Crichton when the word ‘gimp’ did not translate.

Crais nodded, “It was a bad break. When I was able to get to a Healer he couldn’t fix it and I didn’t have enough credits to find a Diagnosian. I got used to it. Talyn turned black with the enforced recuperation.”

He took a sip of water and continued, “For the first Cycle we recuperated and hid, then for four Cycles Talyn and I were occupying ourselves with making the Uncharted Territories a safer place.

 

We found Armelia and her mother in that period. Unfortunately, her mother died shortly after she came on board. I couldn’t send Armelia back to the planet, even if she had family living there.”

Crais frowned, “Her mother had been raped by a Peacekeeper and her own people had branded her unclean. They were slowly starving them. Armelia would have died there and then had I left her on the planet. It is also fitting that as an ex-Peacekeeper I should take her into my care and give her a name.

 

When she was abducted by the Scarrans, I…” Crais frowned as if he was trying to remember something but couldn’t, “I couldn’t go after her immediately and the trail had gone somewhat cold. Every time we picked up another clue or encountered Scarrans, the trails seem to grow even colder.”

 

His frown deepened and he took a deep breath, “In the beginning, the madness had overtaken me and I did kill every Scarran in sight. I am not proud of that. I had picked up a crew from the slaves I had freed and I lost some and gained some. Most left because they couldn’t handle my madness. The last crew I sent away nearly half a cycle ago.”  He didn’t look in Crichton’s eyes guessing his reaction to hearing him admit to loosing his mind again.

 

“Sometimes I wore my hair loose and sometimes in a queue, maybe that accounts for the different reports. I don’t know why nobody can recall my face. I never hid it.

The fire from Heaven is easily explained. When Talyn can sense I’m in trouble he will use my eyes to pinpoint his attacks. He has become quite skilled at that.” There was pride in Crais’ voice.

“It is not true that I cannot be killed, I have been wounded numerous times. I just carried on and sometimes only found out that I had been injured when I was back on board. I think that with the adrenaline of Talyn and myself flowing through my body it was hard to feel the injuries when they were sustained.

 

The slaves I freed, I tried to transport to safer planets in the neighbourhood. From there they were sent to Rhagnor. If there were too many of them we normally managed to secure craft for the able-bodied. The weak I took with me on Talyn until it was safe enough to drop them off. I still haven’t found her yet.”

The silence grew thick in the room.

 

 

“We can help you find her,” said Crichton.

Crais lifted his weary head and regarded Crichton. It was difficult for him to accept help, especially from his former adversary but he had been searching for so long now. At one time he had even believed her dead. “That would be appreciated,” he answered calmly.

 

Crichton couldn’t understand how he could stay so calm “Ah, well, we need to get all the information where you have already been. Or should we just follow the trail of burned out mining colonies?”

Crais’ head shot up and for a microt his eyes turned dark with rage, it disappeared as fast as it appeared, “That will not be necessary. Talyn can feed the information to Moya, once they have finished communicating.”

“In the mean time, you rest,” said Aeryn adamantly.

“I don’t need…”

 

“Yes you do. You can use the spare room you slept in earlier but before that, I want you in Medical.”

Crais stood up briskly, “I will accept the offer of a rest, Aeryn but I don’t need your medical facilities.”

“Don’t you, Crais?” She gave Crichton an imperceptible nod and before Crais could react, Crichton had Crais’ arms pinned to the side, Aeryn had closed the distance and had opened his shirt. It was obvious from the bruises and welts that Crais was not a well man. Aeryn had already noticed them before but for Crichton’s benefit choose this dramatic fashion to expose them.

“Unhand me or…”

“No need, eh Crais?” He could almost hear the smirk in Crichton’s voice behind him.

Crais had stopped struggling and glared at Aeryn.

 

 

Crichton had left them alone in Medical. It surprised Crais, judging by Crichton’s earlier jealous outburst.

Aeryn ran a scanner over him, “Are you sure it is Kevolek-syndrome?”

“That was diagnosed.”

“It has the symptoms but…”

“You can treat me for the lesions, Aeryn and then I will take my rest.”

 

 

Crais slept for close to ten arns. When he joined them in the galley he only looked marginally better but to Aeryn it looked like a huge improvement. This time he ate slowly but heartily.

Aeryn had already apprised the others of a shorter version of Crais’ adventures.

 

Tireeku, their newest addition stared at Crais in awe and he finally became aware of this. He looked up and stared back with a questioning gaze, “Yes?”

“You are the Captain?”

“Yes, I am the Captain of the Leviathan ship outside.”

“No, you are the Dark Captain!”

Crais grew uncomfortable with her scrutiny and her words.

“My family and I were taken into slavery by the Scarrans, only my mother and I survived, thanks to you and now there is only me left.”

“I am sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be, without you I would never have known freedom at all.”

Crais said nothing. He felt uncomfortable with the gratitude shown. He didn’t even attempt to recognise her, with the number of people he and Talyn had rescued he couldn’t remember faces.

 

Aeryn looked curiously at Tireeku, “You don’t recognise Crais as the Captain?”

“No. I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t told us. He looks different somehow. Crais doesn’t look scary or frightening. Crais looks… well, normal.”

Crichton guffawed and Crais scowled at him.

 

“The Captain was taller, he was dressed in black from top to toe, his arms and legs were shining black, his hair short and his face scary.”

It dawned on Crais and he smiled. Aeryn looked at him questioningly. Crais explained, “I wear my hair either loose or in a queue and wear protective leg-guards and gauntlets when I go into battle. The tallness seems a side effect. Apparently it seems to make me appear different.”

 

For the first time that day a genuine smile appeared on Crais’ face. He asked Tireeku, “ Which planet had you been on?”

“Zara-thor.”

“That was only half a Cycle ago.” Crais looked hopeful, “Have you ever heard of Armelia, a Sebacean girl? She must be about twelve or thirteen.”

 

Tireeku thought for a moment, “There was a Sebacean girl in our group by that name of about the age you mentioned, she had light reddish hair and green eyes (Aeryn noticed that Crais had turned pale) but she was moved to another mining colony about a Monen before you arrived. She seemed to be a trouble maker and she told me she had been moved several times before she came to our planet and that her father was a captain.”

“Do you know to which colony,” asked Crais hoarsely, he stood up.

“I’ve heard them mention San-thor.”

 

Crais had left the table and stood back, his face had drained of all colour. He stared at Tireeku. Aeryn could see him shake his head in disbelief and feared another fit.

“No-o-o-o!” The scream that tore from his mouth was heartrending and he staggered to the door. The others sat in shock, looking at each other and not knowing what had brought on this reaction. He was through the door before any of them could stop him.

 

The only reason Aeryn and Crichton were able to catch up with him was his heavy limp; even so, he was near the Hangar Bay before they did.

On the way down there Crichton asked what had got into Crais. Aeryn looked quickly at him, “For the last seven monens he has been searching in the wrong direction.”

 

 

“Crais,” she called to him. He didn’t even turn around but continued on. She grabbed him by the arm to make him turn and face her. Whatever semblance of sanity he had gained by his brief rest had completely disappeared.

 

His eyes smouldered with the passions of hatred and anger, his mouth was set in a determined line, his eyebrows had drawn together in an almost impossible arch and a barely perceptive trembling showed the amount of control he had to exercise to keep himself under control.

“Crais let us help you find her. You can’t go off on your own.”

 

In a barely controlled voice he said, “Give me back my key, Aeryn. For the last three Cycles I had to look for her on my own, I will do so again. I appreciate your help but not on my ship nor do I want Moya to go deeper into Scarran territory.”

“Crais…”

“My key, Aeryn,” he held out his hand. She handed it to him reluctantly.

He turned on his heel and without a further word boarded the transport pod and left for Talyn.

 

“Charmer, isn’t he,” said Crichton.

Aeryn looked sadly at him, “Let us hope that we never get into his predicament. Come, we have to talk to Tireeku.”

 

 

Aeryn and Crichton went back to the galley where they had their word with Tireeku and went over her story earlier.

The Dark Captain had rescued her and her mother when he laid waste to the Scarran colony six monens ago. She had known Armelia briefly, mainly because the other girl was younger than she was and was already deemed a troublemaker by the Scarrans. While Armelia was there she had attacked her guards twice and attempted an escape once.

 

Tireeku was amazed that the Scarrans had not killed the young girl yet. Maybe it had amused them to see such spirit in a girl that young or maybe they waited for a way to break her. Their attempts to subdue her spirit seemed to have failed miserable so far.

Tireeku had enjoyed Armelia’s brief stay and had listened in wonder to the tales Armelia had told her of her father and his amazing ship. Armelia had brightened up Tireeku’s existence and she had missed Armelia when the Scarrans transported her again.

With Tireeku’s help Pilot was able to make a holographic image of what Armelia should look like now. This he passed on to Talyn through the frequencies Talyn had left behind.

 

 

Before boarding Talyn, Crais told Talyn they had to leave immediately. Talyn let him dock after restoring the environmental systems. Crais headed for Command and told him they had to direct their first attention to San-thor. On Talyn’s insistence they delayed long enough for Talyn to relay any information he had had over the last three cycles concerning Armelia to Moya. Talyn also left the frequency of Levarthes with the information that Crais was only known to him by the name of Captain Xercus. Finally Talyn broke away from his mother.

 

At a safe distance they initiated Starburst. For Talyn and Crais another period of their search had started.

 

5: Reunion

 

The Crais they met in the Hangar Bay on Moya did not resemble the Crais they had known for so many Cycles. Given, he had tried to keep up his appearance but now his hair flew like a wild mane over his shoulders and down his back, a stubble had replaced the clean shaven cheeks. His face had thinned and looked sunken, the dark, burning hollow eyes that looked at them were those of a madman.

“You’ve found my daughter,” it was more a growl than spoken words.

 

Aeryn nodded and Crichton walked towards him. Crais limped up to them, his foot almost dragging the floor. Aeryn knew he had given himself little rest, his limp proved that. The last time they had seen him, his pride or vanity had tried to disguise the limp.

 

“Father,” a girl’s voice rang out and a fifteen Cycles old girl appeared at the entrance of the Hangar.

Crais hurried towards her as fast as he could. Crichton tried to stop him, seeing the mad glare on Crais’ face. He feared he was dealing with a madman and that he might hurt the girl.

 

Crais was only dimly aware of restraining hands on his arm. With a flick of his arm he tossed the Human metras away. When Crichton landed rather heavily on his backside, he realised that Crais had always kept his strength in check, if he could do that without even thinking about it. He wondered about his former nemesis.

 

Armelia ran to her father and flung herself to safety in his arms.

Crais enfolded her into a tight embrace and buried his face in her hair. Soon there were sobs of relief from him. He didn’t care who was present to watch this. He had his daughter back and five Cycles of grief and madness were receding.

 

Aeryn guided him gently over to a crate to let him sit down. He kept Armelia in a tight embrace while she clung to him for dear life.

Aeryn grew worried when she saw Crais sway and his face loose colour. She was next to him when he toppled and caught Armelia just in time before she could be crushed under her father’s weight. Crais slid to the floor in a dead faint.

 

Armelia wanted to stay with her father and Aeryn asked Crichton to take care of her. She knelt next to Crais and tried to revive him. He remained unconscious.

Moya wanted to know why Talyn was upset and Aeryn explained that Crais was out. She draped Crais’ arm over her shoulder, half lifted him off the floor and carried him to Medical. Crichton followed her with Armelia, who insisted on going with her father.

 

After Aeryn had put Crais on one of the Med-tables, she asked Crichton to take Armelia to the galley while she ran a scan over Crais. Crichton managed to coax Armelia out of the room and took her to the galley.

 

 

Aeryn turned her attention back to Crais. He was very pale and even unconscious had the lines of exhaustion and pain written across his features. She shook her head. She had never seen him in this state before, not even when his brother had been allegedly killed by John. This was worse. She noticed how thin he looked and wondered for how long he had been neglecting his own health. She ran the scanners over him and frowned.

 

He regained consciousness while she was scanning him and tried feebly to stop her. “I’m just tired,” he said, his voice hoarse with disuse, before she could say or ask anything

“The frell you are,” said Aeryn angrily, “Is it the Kevolek?”

He laid back, it was no use pretending, he nodded

“You know there is no cure for it? (Crais nodded again) and that it will only get worse over time?”

He nodded again and said, “I’ve seen Sebaceans over one-hundred-thirty-cycles old with the same affliction.”

 

“Who are not hooked up to a Leviathan and don’t have your short temper or your anxiety,” her eyes bored into his, “How are you relieving it at the moment?”

“Talyn provides me with extra oxygen and I have found medication on planets with Sebacean colonies.”

She placed her hand on his. His hand was cold to the touch. He snatched it away, embarrassed by her concern. He was breathing heavily and he tried not to winch, she noticed that he gripped the sheets hard, “Is there anything you need?”

“My tunic. Sleeve pocket.”

 

She brought his tunic over and presented the sleeve to him. She noticed how his hands trembled when he took a small pill from the pocket and popped it into his mouth. After about five microts his breathing eased and was almost back to normal in ten.

“How frequently do you have to take this?”

“Hardly at all. It only seems to affect me when I am emotionally upset.”

“And hunting Scarrans doesn’t upset you,” said Aeryn sarcastically.

He frowned and looked away.

 

“Does anyone know, besides you and me?”

Crais looked back and said quietly, “Yes, only one other person whom I consider my friend and I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell anyone else. I don’t want to see pity or glee on their faces when they see me. Armelia is still too young, she wouldn’t understand. I will tell her when she’s older and “others” too agonistic towards me.”

“How much older, Crais? Armelia is already fifteen Cycles old!” Aeryn ignored his latter “observation”.

He frowned but did not answer.

 

She looked at her former Commander and present friend, “Since you are in Medical and my patient, I want to do a full medical while you are here. You need to rest, at least.” When she saw the panic in his eyes at the mentioning of a full medical her suspicions were raised, “There is more, isn’t it? Will you tell me or do I have to find out by myself?”

“Talyn and I had a couple of arguments lately…” He looked away from her.

“Crais in your condition… Talyn should get another Captain.”

“We… I can’t.”

“What do you mean? Has your obsession with the Scarrans…”

“What do you mean, MY obsession, it is Talyn’s! I tried to stop him a couple of times,” Crais was getting agitated.

“Then leave…”

 

“I won’t and I can’t. I won’t, because one day he’ll get back to normal again. Back to the Talyn before we hunted down Scarrans. He will need me. He needs me now to balance him mentally as he did once for me. I can’t, because… Talyn provides me with the pure oxygen I need. This is our form of symbiosis.”

“Crais, there must be other alternatives…”

“Like what, Aeryn Sun? You know as well as I that there aren’t any.”

She looked down, he was right.

 

His soft voice penetrated her mind, “I have lived beyond my allotted lifespan many times over Aeryn and so has Talyn. Don’t feel depressed about it. We’ll manage, we always have done.”

She felt sorry for him but tried to keep it from her expression, she knew he hated that. He knew she tried.

“Let me examine you,” she said finally, breaking the silence.

He complied and with her help sat up and took his shirt off.

She gasped, “Moya, lock the door until I’m finished with Crais!”

“That bad, eh?”

“Don’t joke about it Crais!”

 

She looked at the multitude of lesions and bruises on Crais’ upper body. One deep gash was running from his shoulder blade down, when she touched it he winced, “Talyn?”

“No, Scarran. About a weeken ago,” he looked up, his mouth twitched into a smile, “He won’t tell anyone else.”

“Crais, you can’t go on…”

“Yes, I can, Aeryn. Once Armelia is back on board Talyn will calm down too.”

 

His calm eyes looked into hers. She shrugged her shoulders and set about treating him. She let him lie on his stomach to treat the ones on his back and the gash first. Microns after she started he had drifted off to sleep.

 

She marvelled at his hair, which by now hung more than two-thirds down his back. He must have worn it in a queue when the Scarran had slashed him, there was not a hair out of place. She worried how thin he had become over the last two cycles since they had last seen him, even though his muscles seemed firm to the touch.

 

His sleep had been so deep, that he didn’t even wake up when she rolled him over on his back. She studied his face. Even in sleep, pain and exhaustion were evident and hadn’t smoothed his features.

After she had finished, she covered his body with a blanket and before she stepped out of the room, she asked Pilot to let Moya flood the room with extra, purified oxygen. Then asked him to lock the room behind her until Crais woke up.

 

 

When she came out, Crichton and Armelia were waiting outside.

“I want to see my father,” Armelia said determinedly.

“Your father is resting now. He’s asleep.”

“Can’t I wake him for just a short while? He can sleep later,” she said petulantly.

“No, you will not wake him. You wouldn’t like to be woken up when you want to sleep, do you?”

Armelia looked at her with wide, scared eyes and shook her head, “No. But I wouldn’t hurt him.”

 

Aeryn could understand the girl. From what little she had been able to understand, Armelia had been used to work in the Scarran mines. When she had been woken up during her sleep periods it was only to be abused and to the perversions of her captors.

“Aeryn, can’t she…” John tried to intercede for Armelia.

Aeryn shot him an angry glance, “No, John, she can’t! Crais needs his rest!”

“But she waited so long…”

“I want to see my father,” Armelia was crying now.

“Look what you did to…”

 

 

The commotion had woken up Crais. His daughter’s crying had penetrated his sleep.

“Armelia,” he said hoarsely. He got to his feet and like an automaton stumbled to the door, he hadn’t noticed he was only wearing pants and boots, his hair, fortunately, covered most of the damage on his back. Moya opened the door for him. He stumbled into the corridor. His eyes were red rimmed, his exhaustion and wild hair made him resemble a madman. “Armelia?”

 

At the sound of her father’s voice, Armelia wheeled round and flew into his arms, “Father, you are awake!” She scowled at Aeryn.

John scowled at Aeryn too, as if she had deliberately kept Crais away from his daughter. He looked over at Crais and Armelia. Crais had his back half turned to him and John felt a twinge of jealousy when he saw Crais’ thick, curly mane of raven black hair fall down his back. “No wonder Aeryn wants to keep him locked up for herself,” John thought. He looked at the width of Crais’ chest and shoulders, the well-defined muscle tone and his jealousy grew. “Luckily he’s not on this ship,” Crichton thought.

 

Crais swayed and Aeryn was beside him like a flash, “You need to rest! (He nodded) Let me take Armelia…”

“No, it’s all right,” he said and went back to Medical, hugging Armelia to him. He lay down and Armelia curled up next to him, within moments father and daughter were asleep. John and Aeryn left the room.

“Aren’t you pampering him too much,” John asked in a loud whisper.

“No. I’m not.”

“You were an awful long time in there, with him.”

“He needed my attention.”

“For that long? Come on, Aeryn.”

 

Aeryn had never been able to understand his jealousy, especially against Crais. Aeryn stopped in her tracks and looked at John, “What is it with you? Crais comes on board, you get jealous. He needed medical attention and you’re thinking I’m frelling his mind off?”

“The door was locked.”

“So, you tested that as well? For your information, John Crichton, Crais had been badly injured earlier in the weeken. I didn’t want Armelia to run in on us while I was treating this.”

“Why are we always fighting with each other when he comes on board?”

 

Aeryn looked at him stunned. She turned on her heel and walked away from him, fuming.

John walked back to Medical. He had an urge to watch Crais.

 

 

John took a chair and watched while Crais slept. He could see how Aeryn could be attracted to him. Even in rest he looked magnificent. The evident telltale signs of arguments with Talyn and evidence of recent battles did nothing to take away from the broad hairless chest, no fat and well-defined muscles. Part of his long hair had draped over the side of the bed and John felt disgusted that a man like Crais had such thick, silky hair while he had hair that needed to be told where it had to go, that’s why he wore it short. He practically glared at the man on the bed.

He felt better when he noticed the stubble on Crais’ jawbones, “Hah, not Mr Perfect after all!”

 

 

Crais woke with a start, aware that he was being watched.

Armelia was still snuggled up and asleep in his arm. He looked to the side and saw Crichton sitting on a chair, looking at him, “Crichton? Where’s Aeryn?”

Crichton felt miffed, even after nearly twelve cycles he still called him Crichton. He had finally stopped calling Aeryn “Officer Sun” but he never got used to calling him John. And the first person he asked for was Aeryn!

Crais couldn’t understand why Crichton was scowling at him.

 

“So, Crais, my man, what have you been doing with yourself lately?”

“Nothing different from what I have been doing the last five Cycles.”

“Aeryn tells me you were seriously injured recently,” there was a twinge of jealousy in his words.

“Yes,” Crais answered, “Luckily Sebacean physiology allows me to heal faster.”

“Then why did it take Aeryn so long to treat you,” John asked suspiciously.

Now Crais could understand his questioning, “It had been a deep cut. I had not been able to treat it myself and it had become infected.”

“So, if we hadn’t hailed you…” started Crichton smugly.

“I would have found a Commerce planet and looked for a Healer.”

 

“How long are you staying?”

It had been nearly twelve Cycles now and still Crichton was jealous of him and Aeryn, “Crichton, about Aeryn and me…”

“Yes,” there was a dark scowl on Crichton’s face, “What about you two?”

“We are just friends, good friends I hope. She is your mate.”

“She is my wife!”

“I stand corrected, she is your bondmate…”

“And?”

 

Crais frowned at him, “I don’t know how it is done in Human society but in Sebacean society, once a couple is bonded there will be no others and this is respected by others too.”

Crichton shrugged his shoulders, “So? You were a Peacekeeper once. Wasn’t it normal to recreate with different mates too?”

 

Crais had enough of Crichton’s insinuations and was out of bed like a flash. He grasped Crichton by the front of his shirt and with one arm lifted him out of the chair and threw him across the room. Crichton landed in a heap near the wall.

 

Crichton turned to Crais. Crais was breathing hard, his wild mane of hair flying around his shoulders. Crichton clambered to his feet, “Hey, Crais, I’m sorry if I have…”

Crais took a couple of steps towards Crichton, “If you ever…”

“Sorry, I get the drift,” Crichton backed away. He had noticed how Crais clenched and unclenched his hands.

 

Crais’ voice dropped to a menacing whisper, “Don’t you ever impose your Human values on me, John Crichton! I do not want them! I do not like them! I do not care for them!” He gave Crichton one last, dark stare and turned around to walk to his bed.

 

“Crais,” called Crichton, who by now had clambered to his feet and was angry to have been thrown by Crais for the second time that day. He had walked up to Crais. When Crais turned to him, Crichton socked his jaw, “I owe you one.”

 

Crais was caught off balance and fell against the bed, before Crichton could follow up on his advantage Crais had spun on his left leg and was well away from Crichton’s hands. He crouched into a defensive stance. He was weary, he was tired and he didn’t want to fight the Human. Evidently the Human had different plans.

 

Crichton charged at him and Crais sidestepped, he tapped the Human with the edge of his hand in the hollow between the shoulder blades. It made Crichton reel. “Crichton,” Crais started, “I don’t want to fight you…”

“It’s a bit late for that,” growled Crichton, who charged at Crais.

 

This time Crais could not stop him and slammed hard into the wall. It dazzled briefly in front of his eyes and took the wind out of him. Crichton drove his fist in Crais’ midriff and felt great satisfaction when he saw Crais double over.

 

Before Crichton could hit him again, Crais had grasped hold of Crichton’s thigh above the knee and applied pressure with his thumb on the muscle underneath. It was Crichton who sank to the floor, his leg felt numb.

Crichton had expected Crais to follow up on the attack but was surprised when he saw Crais lean against the wall, taking deep breaths and hugging his chest.

 

At that moment Aeryn entered the room with a bowl of broth, which she placed on a table by the side. She glared at the two men, “What’s going on here? (Armelia had woken up too) Crais, you go back to bed! John, you take Armelia to the galley.” She hadn’t been requesting, those were orders and the two men thought it wiser to obey; even Armelia thought it was better to comply. She and Crichton left the room while Aeryn focused her attention on Crais.

 

“What were you two thinking of,” she glared at him, “and in your condition!”

Crais was back in bed and was feeling the worse for wear but he didn’t like being reminded of it, “Aeryn, I would appreciate it if…”

She rambled on and Crais was reminded that she had been with the Human for a long time.

“He could have killed you… (“Aeryn…”) and where would Armelia be then? (“Aeryn…!”) It would have been better…”

 

“Aeryn!” He penetrated her reverie more forcefully. When he saw he had her attention, he continued, “I would appreciate some of that broth you have prepared for me. I haven’t eaten for a little while and am now feeling quite hungry. As for Crichton, he wouldn’t come near killing me. Luckily, I owe him a debt for finding my daughter or I would have killed him.”

“Yes, but your condition…”

“Has not stopped me from killing! I am not decrepit.”

 

She handed him the bowl of broth and Crais kept himself from wolfing it down. It was only when he took the first mouthful that he admitted to himself how hungry he was. He had to slow down. He didn’t want to suffer the indignity of throwing up.

“Ready for more,” asked Aeryn and he nodded. He lay back when she went off for another bowl.

 

 

Crichton sauntered back into the room.

Crais shook his head warily, “If you are here for another fight…”

“What condition, Crais?” He had eavesdropped on Aeryn’s tirade.

“It’s nothing, Crichton. Just feeling tired, that’s all.”

“You are lying to me, aren’t you Crais?”

“It’s none of your business,” Crais said darkly.

“Oh, but it is. If Aeryn is worried…”

“Aeryn worries unnecessary,” Crais said evasively.

“Yes, of course she does and that is why you are lying in bed. Unnecessary of course,” countered Crichton sarcastically.

 

“If that bothers you…” said Crais getting up from the bed. Crichton made no move to stop him.

For all his bravado Crais was really exhausted. He had swung his legs over the side of the bed away from Crichton and Crichton saw the faint trace of a wound on his back through Crais’ hair. That was how far Crais got. The room seemed to spin in front of his eyes. He clutched his chest and toppled forwards. Crichton only just managed to reach over the bed and arrest Crais’ fall by holding on to his shoulders. When he eased Crais’ body back on the bed he could feel how thin Crais had become with self-neglect.

 

Crichton had just straightened out Crais on the bed again when Aeryn reappeared, “John what are you doing here? I thought you were with Armelia.” She looked over at Crais who was only barely conscious. She looked back at Crichton and glared at him, “What have you done with him?”

“I haven’t done anything to him, Aeryn, he did it himself.”

“And I have to believe that?”

“Yes Aeryn,” Crais’ voice sounded weakly from the bed, “It wasn’t Crichton’s fault. It was my own fault.”

 

Crichton looked in disbelief at Crais, Crais admitting to faults voluntary? He was about to make a scathing remark to that effect when Aeryn’s glare stopped him.

Crais looked at Aeryn, “I had not realised that my condition had worsened. I will have to seek help…”

“And none too soon, my friend,” a melodious voice sounded from the doorway.

 

Crichton and Crais turned their heads towards the newcomer and Aeryn smiled at Crais, “Some friends are here to see you. I couldn’t stop them from coming when we told them we had found Armelia.”

“Levarthes! Benim!” Crais gasped with joy. He tried to sit up but fell back weakly.

 

Levarthes had approached the bed and Benim went to the other side.

“I’ve come to help you keep the promise to yourself nearly five cycles ago,” Levarthes took Crais’ hand in his own.

Crichton was surprised to see that Crais let him do so and that his eyes had moistened.

 

Levarthes had not changed much over the cycles, “When Benim came back he told me in what state he had left you. He told me you had seen a Healer who told you that you have Kevolek-syndrome.”

Crais flinched at his words, Aeryn looked worried at Crais and Crichton looked confused. “What is going on,” he asked Aeryn in a whisper, “What is Kevolek?” Aeryn silenced him with a glance.

 

Levarthes went on undaunted, “I mentioned the symptoms to my Healer and he, remembering the readings he had taken when we first met, assured me it isn’t.”

Crais looked up in surprise, “Then what…”

“The readings he had taken were for a healing injury, which you had been neglecting. He had already warned you to seek the help of a healer and get the damage repaired as soon as possible. You had no time for it because of your search.”

 

Levarthes looked worried at Crais, “My Healer was worried when Benim described the symptoms to him and I wanted to bring you to Rhagnor to undergo treatment. Benim stopped me. We waited until your quest was ended and when we heard the news through the relay that Armelia was found, we came. It is your turn to get well Captain… Xercus.”

 

Crais was embarrassed but looked at Benim and nodded. Benim had kept his word. However, Crais had heard the hesitation in Levarthes when he mentioned his name.

“Xercus is not my real name but I gather that you have already guessed that.” He saw Levarthes nod.

“Benim and I are here to take you to Rhagnor. Aeryn has already spoken to Moya. We will be there in a Solar Day.”

They allowed Crais to rest.

 

 

When Crais opened his eyes again he was surprised to see Crichton sitting next to the bed, his chin propped up on his hands.

“Nothing wrong, eh Crais,” Crichton said calmly.

“Nothing that concerned you Crichton,” Crais said weakly.

“And when would you admit your lie to everyone, Crais?”

Crais was puzzled, “What lie, Crichton?”

“Kevolek-syndrome, my eema and Aeryn fell for it.”

“It was not a lie, Crichton. I had believed it was Kevolek. Talyn has spoken to me since. I had blocked the memory of the injury from my mind.”

 

Crichton sneered at him, “Just like that? Levarthes told me the injury was not something to be sneezed at. You could have been dead! And you forget it?”

Crais frowned, “In this universe it would be considered unhygienic to sneeze at injuries. Some species have a deadly poison in their… (he saw how Crichton tried not to laugh) Ah, Erpism,” Crais gave Crichton a weak smile and continued, “I had a daughter to find and no time to loose. Yes, I “forgot”. I would not have been so close or be reunited with her had I remembered.”

“But WE found her,” Crichton said smugly.

 

“For which you have my eternal gratitude but I was also aware of the continuous stream of information passed between Moya and Talyn. I will not forget what you have done for me.”

“Does that mean you will loosen up and relax too,” grinned Crichton suddenly.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” answered Crais with a scowl. Crichton put it down to his own imagination when he thought he could see a softening in Crais’ expression briefly.

Crichton saw how Crais’ eyes drifted shut again, “I leave you to rest.”

Crais nodded and was asleep before Crichton left the room.

 

 

Armelia and Aeryn were waiting outside.

“I want to see my father,” Armelia nearly wailed.

To Aeryn’s surprise Crichton said, “You will have to wait for a while longer. Your father is very ill. He needs his rest. Come.” He took her hand and led her to the galley.

“Had you told me I would have understood,” he said over his shoulder to a surprised Aeryn.

 

 

Crais slept for almost the whole duration of the time it took them to get to Rhagnor. In the duration Moya had flooded the room with the purified oxygen Crais needed.

 

Levarthes’ Healer had come on board to look at his patient. He was in the room for almost half an arn. When he came out he found everyone waiting for him outside. His face had a mixture of worry and thunder, “Captain Xercus is an impossible man to deal with!” He was surprised to see smiles appear on everyone’s faces.

“Join the club,” said Crichton.

 

The Healer continued, “I am surprised his body held out for so long. He should have been dead by now. I am aware that it is partly due to the oxygen that his ship is providing for him. I would therefore suggest that the Diagnosians who will perform the operation will have to do this on his Leviathan. His ship will be able to assist us. His chances are not good. If he had the operation done several cycles earlier, it would have been nothing more than a minor correction. Now, it will not be a foregone conclusion.”

“Tal… his ship will be pleased to assist,” answered Aeryn.

“That was what the Captain said. I will make the arrangements.” He left quickly while the others were debating what to do.

 

Finally it was Crichton who looked at Aeryn and said, “You talk to him. He’s more likely to listen to you.”

Aeryn was surprised but nodded. She entered the room.

“Aeryn,” Crais sounded surprised.

 

Aeryn was shocked that his voice sounded weaker than when he had come on board. There was a look of resignation on his face, the same look she had seen on his face ten cycles ago, “Everything will be all right soon Crais.”

Crais smiled wryly at her, “You make a bad liar, Aeryn. The Healer gave me a thirty percent chance. I might have left it too long.”

Aeryn bit on her lip, “Everything should be fine Crais.”

 

Crais smiled and said softly, “You have turned into an optimist Aeryn. Unfortunately I do not share your optimism. Take care of Talyn and Armelia for me if the operation doesn’t go as planned.”

Aeryn took his hand in hers and her voice grew soft when she could feel the lack of strength in his touch, “I will Crais. Promise me you will do your best to stay with us?”

He nodded.

 

6: Conclusion

 

The operation lasted three arns and the Diagnosians worked with breathing masks while Talyn kept Medical flooded with the oxygen Crais needed and to which an anaesthetic was added.

 

When the Diagnosians exited the room they found a concerned group of people waiting. Crichton had his arm around Aeryn’s shoulders. She had her arm around Armelia’s. Tireeku and Rygel were the only other Moyans left. Levarthes and Benim made up the rest of the group.

Levarthes stepped forward, “How is he?”

 

One of the Diagnosians took off his mask, “We don’t know until a Solar day has passed. It was not an easy operation. We had to use some of his inner tissue to strengthen the heart chamber and to close the small puncture in his lung. If he had delayed the operation by perhaps a monen or less. it would have been too late. His own physiology should do the rest now. His ship is providing him with the healing oxygen. It may be that in future he might not be able to leave his ship for long periods of time.”

“I don’t think that Captain and ship would mind that,” smiled Aeryn.

 

“He should rest for at least a weeken before he’s allowed up. He will need looking after for the duration,” said the Diagnosian seriously.

Benim stepped forward, “I will look after him.”

“And I,” said Aeryn. For a micron she expected Crichton to object but she saw him nod.

“I will look after Armelia in the mean time,” he said.

 

 

When Crais woke up he saw Benim sitting in the chair next to him.

“Benim,” his voice sounded weak and hoarse, “How long…”

“Two solar days, Captain. How do you feel?”

“Thirsty. Weak. Did it work?”

Benim helped him drink some water, “The Diagnosian was pleased with the outcome. You will still need to rest for a weeken.”

“Talyn…”

“Is all right.”

“Armelia…”

 

“Is being looked after by the Moya crew, Commander Crichton said something about baby sitting. Why would he want to sit on babies,” Benim frowned in puzzlement.

Crais smiled weakly, “I don’t know what it means either. He did that to me for cycles, speaking his riddles.” Talking came with small gasps and seemed to cost him a lot of effort.

Benim gave him some more water, “The Diagnosian did tell us that you might need Talyn’s oxygen regularly in the future. You might not be able to leave the ship for long periods of time.”

“If Talyn has no objections…”

 

Talyn bleeped happily in answer and it was then that Crais realised that the transponder wasn’t in its cradle and he brought his hand up in panic.

“Looking for this Crais,” Aeryn’s voice came from the doorway. She had heard Talyn’s happy bleeping too and she held Crais’ transponder in her hand, there was a smile on her face. “The Diagnosian said “complete rest” and that also means any stress from talking to Talyn.”

 

When she saw that he was starting to object, she shook her head, “No! I know you would. It would start with a small link, a quick ‘hello’ and before long you would be running analyses through the systems to do repairs. We know you too well.”

Crais scowled.

“And that will not work either,” Aeryn said but her smile was soft and Benim realised they had played this game before.

 

Benim stood up, “I will leave you two for the moment while I get something to eat.” He left quickly.

Aeryn sat down in the chair that Benim had vacated and looked at Crais. She took Crais’ hand in her hand, there was no strength in it and she felt sad for him and tried to keep the feeling from showing on her face.

 

She explained in happier tones, “Benim is very loyal to you Crais. Even when it was my turn to watch over you he never left (Crais nodded). Armelia is on Moya now. John is keeping her occupied (Crais frowned). Don’t worry he’s good with children. It keeps her mind off worrying about you (Crais seemed to relax). You are not allowed to have visitors for another couple of days. You rest now.”

Crais shook his head but his body went against his wishes and soon he drifted off to sleep.

Aeryn watched him sleep, still holding his hand.

 

 

When Benim came back he thought he could see tears in Aeryn’s eyes. He coughed to let her know he had entered and could see her compose herself. She let go of Crais’ hand.

“I hope he will take care of himself now that he has found his daughter,” he said softly.

“I hope so too, Benim. I often wondered what kind of man he would have been if he hadn’t been a Peacekeeper or their lives had been different. He is a good man at heart but lets himself be driven by obsessions.”

 

Benim didn’t answer and looked away. He had seen what Crais obsessions could do but had also seen his compassion.

“Was it that bad,” Aeryn asked softly.

“We were driven by revenge,” countered Benim evasively.

“But Crais’ was worse.”

“His pain and his loss was bigger.”

Aeryn looked at the sleeping form of Crais, “I’ve heard the rumours and the stories.”

Benim couldn’t gauge the emotions that flitted past Aeryn’s face. Pity? Disgust? Understanding?

“You don’t know the half of it,” he thought.

 

 

On the fourth day of his enforced rest, Crais didn’t want to rest any longer.

Benim had just entered Medical when he heard Crais say to Aeryn, “At least let me have the transponder back!”

“The Diagnosian said “complete rest” and I will keep you to it.”

“He didn’t say “complete boredom”! Boredom is more damaging than…”

“No work Crais!”

 

“Aeryn,” Crais said in a low menacing voice, he coughed, “I am completely bored out of my mind. It is driving me Fahrbot! If you want to drive me to insanity, fine but at least could you make it painless and sedate me for the next three solar days?” He scowled darkly and his breath came in small gasps again.

 

Aeryn had restrained him to the bed when he had tried to get up one time too often. It had done nothing to alleviate his frustration.

“You have to calm down, Crais, look what you are doing to yourself…” soothed Aeryn.

“Calm down?” Crais nearly shouted in sheer frustration.

“The Diagnosian said…”

“Frell the Diagnosian,” said Crais angrily.

 

The room fell silent immediately and Aeryn and Benim both looked at Crais in shock, Crais had never cursed or sworn. Crais breathed heavily and his anger deepened.

“Aeryn,” Benim tried to help, “The Diagnosian said rest not rigidity. It would be all right if he had something to do while he was resting.”

“Like what,” countered Aeryn, “The only thing that would make him happy is work.”

“What if he could do the work without the physical stress?”

“You are proposing to link him back to Talyn.”

“We could make sure that Talyn understands that Crais is not allowed to work.”

 

Finally Crais had enough of being kept out of the conversation, “I prefer you to notice my presence.” His brow pinched in annoyance.

“I don’t know,” said Aeryn, not having listened to Crais or seen his annoyance.

Benim had, “Sorry Captain, we are not leaving you out of the discussion.”

“Then it is a good impression,” said Crais sarcastically.

Finally they agreed, with Talyn’s and Crais’ promises, to let Crais have the transponder back.

 

 

The reunion of Captain and ship was a happy occasion for both. Aeryn had to admit that for the first time in days she could see Crais relax while he communicated to Talyn.

>Crais! I have missed you< Talyn’s voice was happy through the link.

“So have I,” Crais thought back, “How are you my friend?”

>Better< answered Talyn >Armelia wanted to come on board and see us but they wouldn’t let her<

“I know. I am not allowed to have visitors for another couple of days. Diagnosian’s orders and Aeryn is keeping vehemently at his orders,” Crais’ breathing quickened.

>Calm down Crais<

 

“Don’t you start too Talyn,” Crais could have sworn that he could hear Talyn chuckle. Crais smiled, it was good to hear Talyn happy again.

>How are you Crais< Talyn couldn’t keep the worry out of the link.

“Weak and sore but my breathing seemed to have  eased. Thank you for your help Talyn.”

>You’re welcome Crais<

 

In the days after his operation Talyn had been flooding the room with purified oxygen at least seven arns a day and every time Aeryn and Benim had left the room for a long period.

 

With the knowledge that Armelia was found, Talyn had calmed down too and Crais could feel a great joy and calm issuing from his Leviathan. This, in turn, was transferred to Crais and Aeryn and Benim could see him relax visibly.

Rather than interrupting his link with Talyn, Aeryn and Benim agreed quietly to let him keep the transponder and just monitor Crais for undue stress. The link seemed to do him good and once in a while they could see a smile appear on Crais’ face.

 

 

At the end of the weeken the Diagnosian returned. He had seen no reason to come sooner since no one had reported any complications.

He found his patient happily conversing with Aeryn who was giving him an update of what had happened to the Moya crew in the last ten cycles. Crais had listened to her version of the past. Talyn had already given him an update from Moya’s point of view.

“Still resting, I see. Good,” said the Diagnosian.

 

A brief hint of annoyance passed over Crais’ features but was quickly replaced by calm composure.

Aeryn left the room to leave the two men and waited outside with Benim.

 

Less than half an arn later the Diagnosian came out of the room and walked over to an anxious Aeryn and Benim, “The operation was a success and he should be back to full health soon. However, I have advised him to avoid undue stress and anxiety for the time being. He is allowed up but should avoid physical stress as much as possible for at least two weekens. After that regular exercise should do him good, provided he will take rests in between.”

“We will make sure of that,” Aeryn promised, “Is he allowed visitors?”

 

 

Within the arn after the Diagnosian’s leaving the others were on board Talyn. Crais had moved to the galley to see them all.

Armelia ran over to him when she entered and the others didn’t enter the galley to give them some time together before seeing him. They gathered in the corridor. Levarthes and Crichton laughed heartily when Benim told them how Aeryn had kept Crais in check.

 

After an arn they all entered the galley. Crais was pale but composed. He had his hand protectively on Armelia’s hand who sat to his right. Only Benim and Aeryn who had seen him recover for a weeken could see that Crais controlled himself with an effort.

Pleasantries and wishes of well being were exchanged, Crais felt uncomfortable with the attention. He actually reddened when Tireeku touched his hair.

 

“What are you going to do, now that your daughter is back,” Levarthes asked.

“I don’t know,” answered Crais honestly, “I had not thought beyond that.”

“You can’t keep hunting Scarrans,” said Aeryn, “and rescue missions are out of the question too for the time being.”

 

Crais sat silent, looking at his hands on the table. He had not moved his hand off Armelia’s hand.

“I can’t see you settling down on a planet either,” laughed Crichton, “The tranquillity would kill you,”

Crais looked up and raised an eyebrow.

 

“Admit it Crais, your fighting days are over,” Crichton said jovially, “and it scares you to death.”

For once the Human was right. Crais had been thinking it over in the last weeken and the thought had scared him.

 

Crichton grew impatient with Crais’ silence, “Well? Say something man. What are you going to do now? Write a biography? I bet the Scarrans and Peacekeepers would like a copy. Instant best-seller.”

For a brief moment irritation flitted over Crais’ face but it was soon replaced by his usual calm. He looked at the others,  “I have given it little thought. Staying planetside might not be a feasible option, since staying on Talyn might be more beneficial for the moment. I would like to get reacquainted with Armelia and heal.”

 

Crais frowned, “Maybe my fighting days are over but there is still so much injustice out there and I’m not only talking about Scarrans.” He looked at Levarthes, “If we can get enough ships and volunteers together we might be able to end injustice in the immediate area.”

Crichton frowned, “You are thinking of setting up a private army.”

“Not an army. Volunteers patrolling the area…”

 

“Peacekeepers,” spat Crichton, “How long before it becomes a regular army? How long before you draft people? Wake up Bialar! Your dreams are making you want to create another Peacekeeper’s corps!”

Crais frowned. The thought had crossed his mind that he had been thinking of a Peacekeeper’s Patrol but one with nobler thoughts and volunteers. He now admitted that his ideas had been schooled on the Peacekeepers and that somewhere down the path history would repeat itself. He knew that the Peacekeepers had long ago set out with noble thoughts, just as he had been thinking now. He’d had his reservations when the idea stole into his mind and he was almost glad that Crichton had voiced them.

 

He stood up, “For the time being I will rest and heal. We will stay in orbit of Rhagnor for a short while and then Armelia and I will go back to the Uncharted territories. When I have decided what I will do, you will hear from me. I’ll be in Command.”

Crichton blocked his path, “Running away again Crais.”

Crais raised an eyebrow at him, “I am not…”

 

“Frell, Crais!” Crichton grew annoyed and Aeryn laid a hand on his arm. Crichton shook it off and glared at Crais, “You have only just been pulled away from death’s door. You have been reunited with your daughter after five cycles of an intense search and a killing spree but whom you have hardly spoken two words to since you’ve found her. You don’t want to discuss possibilities that may get you killed in the near future. No… Captain Crunch needs to go to Command. And you don’t call that running?”

For a moment Crichton thought Crais was going to throw him right across the galley for insolence. For a brief moment he saw the glare appear in Crais’ eyes.

 

To his surprise Crais’ face smoothed out.

“You are right, Crichton,” Crais said softly. Crichton was stunned.

Crais sat down at the far end of the table and continued, “ For five cycles I have had purpose; however hard, whatever good or evil it might have done. And now that Armelia is found, that purpose has ended. I am overjoyed having found her again (Armelia stood up and moved next to him, draping her small arm over his shoulder while his arm encircled her waist) but there is now also an emptiness that will not easily be filled again.”

 

“How about living for the moment for a change,” asked Crichton softly, “and not just in the way of hunting Scarrans or wondering if it is going to be your last day. Can’t you allow some happiness into that universe of yours? Don’t be afraid that your face will crack into a thousand pieces if you smile once in a while.”

“Happiness is a rare commodity in my life,” said Crais, he was still wondering when he would wake up, “but I will try to work with it.”

 

Crais looked around the table, “For the moment I will stay in orbit over Rhagnor until I am well enough to travel. Talyn needs his rest and Armelia and I have some catching up to do. I will consider what to do next after that.”

“We will be staying for a while too,” said Aeryn, “Come and visit us before you leave.”

Crais nodded.

 

 

“Father are you not happy to have found me,” asked Armelia when they were alone in the galley after everyone had left.

“Of course I am,” said Crais softly while he drew Armelia to him, “Why do you ask?”

“As Crichton said, you have hardly spoken to me. Are you ashamed of me?”

He held her close. She had grown up, “No, my daughter, I am not ashamed of you. If someone should be ashamed, it should be me.”

“Why Father?”

“I have killed innocents in my rage and urge to find you. For most of the five cycles I killed nearly every Scarran in sight. Does that make me any better than they are?”

 

There wasn’t much Armelia could say to that. “You were looking for me,” she said in his defence.

“Yes,” said Crais drawing her closer so she wouldn’t be able to see the sadness on his face, “I was looking for you.”

 

THE END

 

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