Peacekeepers
don’t dream
By
GitonCrais
Crais tossed in his sleep, the dream was taking a firmer grip
with each passing micron.
He had been tired when he went to sleep. Talyn was having
growing problems. Crais could almost see the expansion of the rooms happen
before his eyes. It wasn’t much, a little here, a little there; the deck
rippled to accommodate the newly built space.
The strain Talyn went through was felt through the transponder
and had been giving Crais a headache. Finally he had gone to his quarters to
rest. There was nothing he could do to ease Talyn’s strain, he knew that from
past experience. He only took his short tunic off. He had not expected to fall
asleep…and dreamed…
“My dear, dear Captain,” Scorpius; velvet tones filled the
darkness, “It’s time to step down. You are unfit for duty. Let me take your
place. It will be better.”
The darkness brightened slowly and Scorpius’ death’s head was
coming into focus, it was only a hand’s width away from his face.
Crais’ hands shot out and encircled Scorpius’ neck, “You stole
everything from me!” He squeezed. The hybrid felt rubbery under his fingers and
Scorpius grinned, his fetid breath assaulted Crais nostrils, “Have I now,
Captain? Was it I who made you lose it? Are you sure it was me and not you?”
The velvet tones were annoying, they were grating on Crais’ nerves.
Crais squeezed harder and a strange, violent dance commenced.
Scorpius held Crais by the waist and together the men whirled around the room.
Crais squeezing, Scorpius grinning. Faster and faster the movements go and
still his hated enemy’s face is grinning, grinning…
The dream changed…
He had found Lt Velorek where Officer Sun said he would be,
asleep with Pilot, luckily the bed was large enough.
Officer Sun spat at Velorek that she had never loved him and had
found someone else.
When Crais looked at her he saw a very small Sebacean perched on
Aeryn’s shoulder. It grinned at him, “Hey, I’m John Crichton. Are you the Big
Bad Wolf?”
Crais wanted to swat the little man but Officer Sun protected
him with her hand.
Crais immediately condemned her Irrevocably Contaminated upon
which words she disappeared.
The dream shifted…
…and Crais became restless. A fiery explosion, over and over and
over again. Tauvo’s face appearing the centre of the explosion, “I want
vengeance! You haven’t avenged my death.”
The same phrase repeated , the last word timed with the
explosion. In the brief silence that followed Crais whispered, “It was an
accident.”
Shift again…
Crais was dressed in white, a diagnosian’s viewer perched on his
forehead. A physician’s garb.
Crichton parts were scattered over the table, spluttering and
bubbling, alive but not alive.
Jool looks at his progress.
Crais holds a brain in his hand and positioned it over
Crichton’s abdomen, “Are you sure this is where it goes?” Jool nods.
Crais dropped the brain in the open cavity, “Don’t want to mess
up the Erp-man.”
“It’s Earth!” Crichton’s mouth bubbled somewhere in the mass of
organs and parts, “Earth! Not Erp, you moron!”
Crais smiles sweetly down, “Erp sounds better.”
The dream shifts again…
Crais found himself in the galley. The lights were dimmed. His
eyesight in the dark was good but he had trouble distinguishing details in the
Galley. However there was movement in the gloom.
Crais drew his pistol and moved forward cautiously.
He stopped. His senses were on the alert and tingling. A sign
above his head blinked on and off “Double the fun”. His muscles tensed.
Slowly the room brightened. They were there. Crichton, Aeryn,
Chiana, D’Argo, Rygel, Jool, all of them. Worse! There were two of each of them
and yet they were not alike.
One Aeryn had grown tenkas, the other a third eye. One Crichton
changed ages in rapid fashion, while the other looked serious.
Crais’ eyes darted quickly around the room. The others had been
subject to similar changes. Some he didn’t even want to remember.
He backed away slowly but kept his eyes on the Moya crew or
whatever they had become now.
Their whispers reached his ears, “Join us. Double the man,
double the fun.”
When the Luxan-Aeryn lashed out her tongue seductively Crais
made a dash for the door…
…and found himself in a low corridor. He had to bend in order
not to hit the ceiling.
There were no doors on either side of the corridor, just one,
right at the end of the corridor.
The corridor narrowed and grew lower. By the time Crais reached
the end he was on hands and knees and only just managed to squeeze himself
through the door. He was glad to leave the claustrophobic place.
He stood in a meadow, quite pleasant, almost like the Carrier’s
Biogarden. He took a deep breath. The air was cleaner and thinner than most
planets. He smiled.
A lone figure came skipping to where he stood. Crais squinted
but couldn’t make out the features. He waited.
It was Stark. He grinned at Crais, “I know your secret.”
“What secret,” asked Crais.
“The one that only you and Talyn know about.” He started
skipping around Crais.
“I have no…” Crais started to feel light-headed with Starks’
continued movements.
“Oh yes you do, you do, you do. A secret deep and dark.”
“No, I…”
“I help you to the other side. Your secret, my secret, your
secret…”
Crais drew his pulse pistol and hissed, “Let me give you a hand
reaching the other side sooner.”
He fired at Stark. Stark was split, right down the centre and
then there were two smaller versions, “Your secret, my secret” the two Starks
chanted.
In frustration Crais continued shooting at the multiple Starks
but it only succeeded in creating multiple smaller Starks, all skipping around
him in a whirlpool of movement and all singing the chant, “Your secret, my
secret, your…” until it became a deafening roar.
Crais clasped his hands over his ears and slowly sank to his
knees, “SHUT UP!”
The chant continued, pounding against the side of his skull. He
tightened into a ball.
Suddenly there was complete silence. He looked up…
He woke with a start and a feeling of unease, he couldn’t
explain why. Maybe the dream…
He shook his head, Peacekeepers don’t dream.
The End