They say Peacekeepers don’t dream, don’t they? (This is the Cohort’s-version)

 

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 build 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…

 

 

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 Moya crew was waiting for him.

Crichton smiles, “We already had our repast but we saved some for you.”

When Crais got closer to where he was supposed to sit he saw a huge amount of chocolate.

Crichton grinned, “Dark chocolate for the dark Captain.”

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

 

Back to Cycle Two

FanFiction on Captain Bialar Crais