Some of the conversations I have taken verbatim off the episode “Choices” in order to let the story flow better and to connect up the shown scenes with my interpretation of the missing scenes. No infringement is intended. Crais and the Talyn-crew on Valldon (My interpretation of the) Missing scenes in Choices

Sworn to protect

By GitonCrais

Crais was leaning heavily on the control panel in the Command Centre, watching out for any signs of enemy-activity. It kept his mind alert while the others were sleeping or grieving in their respective cabins. It had been two days since John’s dead and it was still at least another solar day before they would reach Moya.

He swayed on his feet and tried to rub the exhaustion from his face. He had been awake for most of that time and his body started to demand rest. As a Sebacean and with Peacekeeper-training he had the ability to stay awake for long extended periods without much strain on his physical well-being.

The last days were pushing even him beyond physical endurance. He hadn’t fully recovered yet from the solar flare that had blinded him and Talyn. His normal vision was still blurry at times and a recurring headache an almost constant nuisance but he didn’t let on to the others, they were still grieving John’s demise. Besides, the Scarrans and Charrids were still patrolling this vector, looking for them. Someone had to stay alert. He sighed and returned back to the control-panel.

He realised that he needed to take some rest soon and in a normal situation he would take it and let Talyn fly on his own for that period. In a normal situation, yes, but this was not normal. Only days ago they had been able to foil the plans of the Charrids to get hold of the Wormhole-technology and lost John Crichton in the process. He had died a warrior’s death. In the aftermath, the others had gone into deep mourning. Which was understandable. He had been a loved and cherished comrade to the others and Crais had come to respect him as a fellow soldier, if nothing else.

To take his mind off his own pain and worries he looked through Talyn’s “eyes” and roamed the corridors to see how the others were doing. Rygel had started binging. Crais had already warned the Dominar that those were the only provisions on board and that they might not have a chance to re-supply before meeting up with Moya but Rygel had simply continued eating. He only hoped that there was enough food left for everyone before they reached Moya. Well, he and the others weren’t that hungry at the moment anyway.

He shifted his attention. Stark was pacing in the storage-area. Mumbling to himself and repeating prayers or mantras. At least he had stopped trying to persuade Talyn “to cross over”. It had been one of Crais’ biggest worries for a while. Trying to get Talyn to cope with the aftermaths of the solar flare, calming him down enough to start their trek back to find Moya and trying to stop him from listening to the grief-stricken Stark who wanted to persuade him to commit suicide and take all of them with him had been an extra strain on Crais. At least Talyn was listening to him again, for the moment. Crais left Stark to his mumblings.

He roamed further, towards the room that held Aeryn. He “stood” before her door. Should he enter and see how she was doing? He understood that she had refused all food and was avoiding her shipmates. Crais would be the last person she would want to talk to. His senses had detected her silent sobbing. Strange to hear a Peacekeeper sob and display those emotions but then she had been -how had he phrased it all those monens ago- “irreversibly contaminated” by the human. He permitted himself a weak smile. Had he not been contaminated by him as well?

After a last look at her door, he turned and left.

He roamed the corridors a little while longer, checking on Talyn’s systems, mentally recording where repairs should be made and prioritising them. He checked the outside hull of the leviathan and was quite pleased that he wasn’t hurt or injured. He let his mind drift back to his own body at Command Centre.

Coming back to his senses had been a bad move. The exhaustion hit him like a wall. And he steadied himself once more on the console, emitting a soft moan.

“Still no signs of the warships, Talyn.” He asked aloud just to hear another noise other than the ship’s. He was surprised how hoarse his voice sounded. Talyn beeped in the negative. Could he allow himself some rest now? His eyes were burning with the strain of staying awake and his muscles trembled. He glanced over longingly to the recliner he had recently installed on the Command Centre.

“Dying for a rest, Crais?”

He whirled around in surprise and nearly regretted the action, when he had to steady himself. He looked at the tear-puffed face of Aeryn Sun. There was a hard glare in her eyes.

“Aeryn,” he said hoarsely, trying to compose himself, “You should be resting…”

“As should you,” she said defiantly, “How long have you been at the helm?”

“I can’t remember,” he said evasively.

“Ever since we left… the planet, I recon. You rest for a while, I can take over from you.”

He wasn’t sure whether she had been able to get any rest herself and how stable she was at the moment. Although the prospect of rest was tempting, he wanted her to be rested. He could last for a while longer.

“It’s not necessary, Aeryn, we should be able to catch up with Moya soon. If you don’t want to go back to your quarters, you can keep me company here and rest on the…”

He was stopped from going any further, “Dren, Crais, don’t patronise me. You wouldn’t last an arn longer. You are almost dead on your feet and you look like frell!” She could see he was too tired to keep himself from flinching when she swore at him. “You need a rest and, as you said, “if you don’t want to go back to your quarters, you can keep me company here and rest on the recliner”. I promise to wake you up when there is trouble. Now, take a rest and lie down!”

When he didn’t comply immediately she stepped forward until they were face to face.

“I have had some rest and so have the others. Just staying in my quarters reminds me of John,” there was a slight crack in her voice, “I keep thinking of the little time we had together and the unfairness of it. It spins around and around in my mind and it makes me want to cry.

Piloting Talyn might take my mind off John for a while. Would you deny me that?”

She looked at his tired, red-rimmed eyes and her voice became softer, “You need a rest and you can’t deny that either. It has been over two solar days now. Are your eyes still troubling you?”

She knew he wouldn’t admit to it, he was still too proud to accept help or admit to any weaknesses, but when he briefly looked away from her prying eyes she had her answer.

“It’s not a weakness to accept help from …friends Crais. Besides, giving me command of Talyn for a while will help me more that may realise. So, how about it?” Her voice had softened to the point that it lured him into accepting it.

He nodded briefly, giving in to her logic and the demands his body were making on him. She smiled gently at him. When it became obvious that he wouldn’t be able to make it to his quarters, she guided him over to recliner and he was out even before his head touched the headpiece. With a small smile on her face she shook her head at his stubbornness. She looked around and saw that he had had the foresight to neatly fold a couple of blankets near the recliner. She took one and gently laid it over his sleeping form.

She smiled, “Let him sleep, Talyn,” she thought once she put the second transponder in her neck, “He needs the rest. I want you to find something for me…”

He was roughly woken up by Stark shaking him by the shoulders, “She has gone down!”

He tried to shake the sleep and fatigue away while trying to pry Stark’s fingers off his shoulders, “Who has gone down? Down where? What are you muttering about?”

“Aeryn, she has gone down to Valldon!”

“Valldon?” Crais still tried to shake the fuzziness, which came with deep sleep. He then noticed that Talyn wasn’t moving, “Talyn, where are we? How long have I been asleep?”

“You have only been asleep for two arns and we are now in orbit over Valldon.”

Crais sat up and felt a wave of dizziness sweep over him. He’ll have to catch up on some serious sleep later. Had he not been so tired he would have prevented Aeryn from going down to the planet.

“Why are we in orbit, Talyn? Did Officer Sun order it?”

“She wanted to go there, so I took her,” was Talyn’s simple answer.

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“She told me not to.”

“Great,” thought Crais, “Nobody listens to me anymore. Any more surprises?”

He asked Stark, “Why are you so uneasy that Aeryn is down there?”

“It’s a planet of mystics and healers!”

Crais raised an eyebrow; not quite understanding what Stark was leading up to.

“She took a transport pod and went down to the planet to commune with Crichton.”

“And who put that notion in her head,” Rygel asked with a sneer.

“No-no-no, you don’t understand. They are crazies and bad people down there.”

“Then why did you tell her about this place?”

“I thought she might need…”

“So, it is your fault that Aeryn is down on Valldon,” Rygel huffed.

Stark became agitated, “Not my fault. Trying to help…”

Crais was getting angry, “Trying to help? To fill her head with great tales of spirit channelors?”

Stark wrung his hands and he looked angrily at Crais, “It’s not crazy! She wanted to be away from you! She says you are following her!”

“Me? Following her? You are the one who’s following her!”

“Aeryn wants me to be around, to watch over her. She wants me to protect her from people like you.” He jabbed at Crais.

Rygel moved his hover sled closer to Stark, “You stupid, selfish knack-knocks! Aeryn has made it clear she wants nothing to do with any of us. She wants nothing to do with your plan to find Moya.”

“We can’t leave her on Valldon,” Stark said nervously, “It’s dangerous. It’s filled with mystics and criminals.”

Rygel sneered, “That’s just like here. You’re a mystic and we’re criminals,” he sat up straighter in his chair, “Aeryn doesn’t want to be here.”

Stark looked at him, wanting to shake the Hynerian, “You don’t understand…”

Crais lifted his hands in total exasperation, “What is it we don’t understand, Stark?”

Stark dropped his voice, “She’s going to talk to Crichton!”

Crais looked at him stunned, was this man serious? He had always doubted the sanity of Stark even if he had to admit he had his uses. He walked close to him and said in a low voice, “I don’t care whose fault it is that she’s down there but we have to get her back. So, you two get her back on board Talyn.”

“Why do I have to go down to Valldon,” whined Rygel.

“To keep an eye on Stark and you can’t fly Talyn. Now move!”

When they had left he sat back down wearily on the recliner. Why had Aeryn been so devious? She could have asked or at least told him what she planned to do. He shook his head. He could understand her grief. She did… had loved Crichton but to go down to Valldon and try and communicate with him…

“Talyn, go to the dark side of the moon. It is no use sitting out in the open to wait for the others.”

He had allowed himself to slumber, asking Talyn to rouse him when there was any news from the others. After a couple of arns Rygel’s voice came frantically over the comm-link, rousing him. He was instantly awake.

“Crais! Crais!”

“Yes, Rygel? Have you located Aeryn’s signal yet?”

“No, she has mashed it. We have been all over this stinking city. Now we are in some sort of nacky hotel and it’s filled with every fahrbot you ever knew. It’s a planet of Starks down here!”

“You are exaggerating!”

Rygel looked over at Stark who was following some silent voice of Zhaan looking half in trance, he spoke back into the comm-link, “Crais, get down here. I can’t stand it alone with him!”

“No, stay with him until you find Aeryn.”

“Crais? Crais!” Rygel’s voice sounded desperate, Crais broke the comm-link.

There was no way he could get back to sleep until he had word that Aeryn was found. He went back to monitoring the vector.

He turned around when the Stark and Rygel came back, “Have you found…”

Stark pounced on him, hit his left temple with the pulse gun and knocked him to the floor, winding him. He only barely managed to make Talyn withdraw his guns.

Stark pointed the pulse-gun at Crais, “Rygel, cuff him.”

Rygel complied, tightening the cuffs a little too hard for Crais’ liking.

“What are you two doing,” he asked, still dazed from the knock to his head.

“You traitorous son of a Tralk,” he shouted in Crais’ face pushing the gun painfully to his temple.

“What have I done?”

“You didn’t kill her, did you? You were just trying to save your sorry eema!”

Crais was confused and had no idea what he was talking about but one does not argue with someone who’s holding a gun to your head.

“Who… are… you… talking… about,” he managed to croak when Stark was pressing the gun painfully to his neck.

“Xhalax Sun!” Stark hissed in his face.

“Xhalax Sun?” Crais looked surprised.

“Crichton was right. You never killed Xhalax.”

Crais tried to struggle upright, “Get off me, let me up.”

Rygel brought his sled closer and hissed at him, “The only time we’re letting you up is when we flush you down the airlock!”

Stark pushed his face in Crais’, “What happened to Xhalax? Tell us!”

Crais’ voice sounded restricted in the uncomfortable position, “Let… me… up!”

Stark pulled him roughly in a sitting position, letting him fall back against the bulkhead and pointed the gun at him, “Tell us! Tell us!”

Crais took a deep breath, “When you left me with Xhalax I saw instantly the end…”

“For you,” said Rygel with a sneer.

Crais glowered at him, “For all of us. I knew that if I killed her, High Command would send another Retrieval Squad after us. And if they failed, another and another.”

“You made a deal to save us all!” Rygel said sarcastically, not wanting to believe Crais.

“I offered Xhalax her life!”

“And what would “you” get in return,” asked Rygel.

“She would inform High Command that we were all dead.”

Stark looked Crais up and down, “ Do I look like an idiot?” Crais didn’t answer, Stark wouldn’t like the answer. Stark continued in his agitated manner and looked over at Rygel, “Does he look like an idiot? Do I look like an idiot? Well, I’m not and we are not fooled by you!” He pressed the gun hard against Crais’ neck and whispered menacingly, “If you got a deity you better make peace with him now because I’m going to feed you to the outside real quick.”

“No!” Rygel said forcefully.

Stark looked at him in amazement, “No? What, no?”

Crais said with calm as if Stark was not holding a gun to him, “Rygel understands our predicament. Talyn has part of my psyche. Can you fly him?”

“No,” said Stark and then looked triumphantly at him, “But Aeryn can!”

“And she is not here,” said Rygel quietly.

The smile Crais returned infuriated Stark but he had to admit that Rygel was right.

He pulled Crais up roughly and shoved him to the Docking bay, “You come with us. We’re going to get Aeryn back and then I push you outside.”

Rygel steered the transport pod while Stark kept his gun pointed at Crais, sometimes making jabbing movements with it to remind Crais who was in control now. Crais grew weary of the game and tried to rest while they were flying down to the planet but Stark’s insisted jabbering and gun-pointing prevented him from doing that.

They parked the pod at the spaceport and went to the hotel where Rygel and Stark had their last information about Aeryn’s whereabouts.

Crais was very conscious about his cuffed hands but it didn’t seem to bother anyone else in the city they were moving through. With the variety of strange people walking the streets this was not surprising. Repeatedly he asked Rygel to take the handcuffs off but Rygel ignored him.

When they got to the hotel, they blackmailed the proprietor to tell them the room number Aeryn was staying in by threatening to drop the spiked grill down on his hands if he didn’t tell them.

After they retrieved the information of the whereabouts of Aeryn, they left Rygel downstairs in the lobby. Stark pulled at Crais’ cuffs and dragged him upstairs. By the time they were on Aeryn’s floor Crais was too tired to try and persuade Stark to release him. It would have been no use and Stark seemed to be going on pure adrenalin.

He stopped in front of a door and finally released his hold on Crais, “Right here!”

“This is better not be the wrong room,” Crais said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Stark ignored him, “Aeryn, are you in there? Aeryn, are you alright?” Aeryn’s face appeared before the grille, Stark lowered his voice, “Aeryn, you look terrible. What have you been doing? You look terrible!”

Crais shouldered Stark away from the door and looked at Aeryn, “This is serious, Aeryn, We need to talk! Can I come in?”

Stark didn’t like the idea that Crais might get a response from Aeryn when he couldn’t and shouted, “All right, that does it!” He moved away from the door, shoved Crais to the middle of the corridor and pointed the gun at him, “Get down! On you knees! Face the wall!”

“I am not getting down on my knees,” shouted Crais back, he was getting annoyed with the Banik and he was not going to let himself be humiliated in front of Aeryn.

“Get down!” Stark shouted at him.

Crais’ voice dropped, “You told Rygel to be calm.”

Stark became more agitated, “I am calm! Get down! Get down now!” He waved his gun frantically at Crais who feared that in his agitated state he might actually shoot him. Slowly he lowered himself to his knees. If it would bring Aeryn back it would be worth it, if not he would personally kill the Banik.

The door opened slowly and Aeryn stepped out. His heart filled with pity and he took care not to let it show on his face when he saw her. She looked either drugged or drunk, dishevelled. He glanced away from her. There had to be a way to get her back. Living as she had been for the last day would destroy her!

Stark turned to Aeryn, “Aeryn, you must return to Talyn. We saw your… Xhalax here on Valldon.” He slit his eye and looked at Crais in contempt.

Aeryn answered him dreamily, “It’s this place…,” she smiled at him, “You should see who I have seen.”

Stark tried to talk sense to her, “Your mother is really, really here!”

“Aeryn grinned at him, “Yeah… Guess who I have seen? (-she smiled at Stark-) Crichton. And guess who else? My father. In a microt you’ll see Zhaan!”

Crais followed the conversation with downcast eyes. For once the Banik made sense and it was Aeryn who troubled him. She must be flying high on a drug. They had to get her back to Talyn before her mind was irretrievably lost.

Stark’s voice took on a sharp edge, “You stop! You listen to me! He never killed Xhalax. He was preparing to betray us!” He glowered at Crais.

Crais looked down, the others would never understand why he had done it, whatever he said, “That is not true. I did it for all of us.”

Stark started pointing the gun at him again, “Liar! Liar!” He turned to Aeryn, “You must come back with us. I’ll look after you. I want to look after you!”

“That would be very nice,” said Aeryn in her dreamy voice.

“Oh, please,” said Stark reaching out to touch Aeryn.

Aeryn jumped back from him and her voice dropped, “Don’t touch me!”

Crais’ low voice reached her ears when he said with regret, “Aeryn, Xhalax is alive!”

Aeryn moved over and knelt in front of him, trying to attract his gaze, which was still downcast, “Come on. Come on, Crais, you can tell me the truth.” She leaned seductively close to him and he could smell a mixture of alcohol and herbs on her. He would have liked to hold her, take her pain away but not like this.

Stark’s voice butted in, “You get up! Get away from him!”

Aeryn ignored him and leaned closer to Crais, “It’s all right. He wants me. Isn’t that right? You always wanted to take me away from Crichton.” She ran his fingers over his collar and his breath caught. He leaned back, away from her, his mind screaming, “Don’t do this Aeryn! Please, yes I have feelings for you and I didn’t want Crichton to have you, but I know you loved him and still do. Please, not like this.” She leaned even closer, “And now here’s your chance.” She grabbed his head and brought him closer to her, his struggles were in vain when she whispered in his ear while he squeezed his eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to see her pain, “And you know what, Bialar, if I squeeze my eyes shut tightly enough you could be someone else.” Her knee pressed against his groin and he grunted, trying to pull away from her, “She is not herself at the moment,” he thought and he tried to keep them both from humiliating themselves, but her hold on him tightened. She hugged him hard and in his kneeling and cuffed position he couldn’t break her hold. In a hoarse voice she continued, “No, right here, right now. Give it to me. Give me what you got!”

At an another time Crais would have given anything to have her hold him like this but not in the state she was in now. It was humiliating to both of them and he hoped that in her drug or alcohol induced state she wouldn’t remember what she was doing and saying when she came out of it.

It was Stark, who saved him from further embarrassment when he pulled Aeryn away from Crais, “Come away from him, I’m taking you with me now.”

She moved over to Stark, “Don’t… you… touch… me!” She drew a knife and held it over Stark’s face, “I swear I spear the last eye you have left. Do you know what makes you so much worse? You think you are so much better than him. Always pressing against me.” Crais closed his eyes shut with this insight; he wouldn’t want to watch Stark’s expression either. Aeryn continued to menace Stark, “Stealing looks. Get out of here!” Crais was trying to get upright, she was getting dangerous and whatever the Banik had in mind for him he had sworn to protect all of them. Aeryn saw him struggle to rise and pulled him in a standing position before she pushed him towards Stark, “Both of you, get out!”

Crais breathed heavily, trying to get his own emotions under control, while Aeryn went back into the room and slammed the door on them.

Crais found himself back on the same floor after he had convinced Rygel to uncuff him and go after Xhalax Sun. He had left Rygel and Stark on the ground floor fighting Terrians, whom Stark seem to know. The Banik might get himself killed, thought Crais, the way he was shooting at them standing in the open rather than to find cover. He would worry about it later. His priority was Aeryn.

He stepped out into the corridor and encountered the first guard. He had the element of surprise and silenced the guard by hitting him under the jaw with the butt of his gun; the man went down without making a sound.

When he turned the corner he nearly got his head shot off. “Sloppy, Crais,” he thought, “watch your step or you’ll be no use to Aeryn.” He ducked back briefly, stepped forward in a crouch and managed to shoot the next guard. There were no other guards.

Cautiously he moved to Aeryn’s door and heard muffled voices within. One sounded threateningly. There was no time to waste. He kicked the door down.

Quickly he assessed the situation. Aeryn was standing on the ledge outside the window facing her mother who held a pulse-rifle towards her. It wasn’t difficult to realise that she would be using it. He called out to Aeryn, trying to attract Xhalax Sun’s attention. It worked.

When she saw him, she brought her rifle up but before she could shoot him he shot her first. As if in slow motion he could see her fall backwards with a look of surprise on her face. He was aware that Aeryn managed to catch her mother before she plunged into the depths.

“No!” He heard Aeryn scream. He could see tears streaming down her face.

Xhalax looked at her daughter with a mixture of surprise and resignation, “Let me fall, Aeryn.”

“No,” said Aeryn with tears in her voice. She wasn’t going to lose another parent.

Xhalax swallowed deeply, “Let me go.” She looked tenderly at her daughter’s face, if only matters could have been different, “I died a long time ago. You live for me.” She dropped back, her sudden weight made Aeryn let go of her. It was a long drop but she watched her mother fall almost all the way until she couldn’t see her anymore.

Crais watched the scene with regret. He lowered his gun. He felt guilty; in a way he had killed Xhalax twice in Aeryn’s eyes. If she was going to kill him for that he couldn’t blame her. He looked up at her when he heard her step back into the room.

She slowly walked over to him, a mixture of feelings flitting over her face. “She was going to come around,” she said, softly advancing.

“You don’t know that. I saw her point a rifle at you, it was either she or you. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry, Crais? Do you know the true meaning of the word? I don’t think you do. “Sorry, I killed your mother. Oh no, I didn’t, sorry. Sorry, I killed her again.” Which sorry is this one?” She stood very close to him now, at touching distance.

“Aeryn, I explained…”

“Yes, yes, as if that is doing me any favours.” She moved forward and her hand shot forward, instinctively Crais stepped back and took a defensive stance. She was only interested in the bottle that stood on a low table behind him. He relaxed. She took a swig.

She moved unsteadily. He stepped closer, took hold of her arms and made her look in his face, “Aeryn, I know how much you grief…”

“Do you, Crais?”

He could feel her body tense in his hands and braced himself in case she became violent, “Yes, I do! I have been there too,” with a nod of his head he indicated at the bottle she was holding, “It doesn’t resolve anything. In fact, it makes it stronger. The grief, the hatred, the loneliness. After a while you see… them wherever you turn your head and after another while you even believe they’re real. You will fall into a pit you might not want to leave and you will sink deeper until the madness engulfs you completely. Don’t let it devour you.” He looked sadly at her, had he said too much?

She looked at Crais and realisation came slowly. He had lost someone he loved too and he had had no one to console him. Her face relaxed, her body became less tense and she did not throw him across the room when she trained her eyes on him, “You are right, Crais. This is not real. It made me wallow in self-pity and regrets but I need it at the moment.”

“No, you don’t,” his voice softened, “John wouldn’t have wanted you to…”

Her anger flared up again, “Don’t tell me what John would have wanted or thought. He is not here anymore!”

Crais stood his ground and held her gaze steadily, “That’s right, Aeryn, John isn’t here anymore. You have to move on.”

Her face softened and changed into a sorrowful expression, “Again you are right, Crais, I… I don’t know what to do...” She became limp in his hands and big silent tears started to roll down her cheeks.

For a micron Crais stood undecided, not knowing how to react to this. Tears were not part of Peacekeeper’s manuals. He took half a step forward and awkwardly embraced her. He felt her head relax on his shoulder while heaving sobs rocked her body. He held her for a while longer until the sobs subsided and she stepped away from him.

“Thank you Crais,” she said softly while she looked at a slightly embarrassed Crais.

“Don’t mention it, Aeryn.”

There was a pause between them. Crais coughed lightly, “Will you be coming with me… us to Talyn?”

“Could you wait for me for a couple of arns? Or even a day?”

A small frown creased his eyebrows, “It might be better if…” when he looked into her eyes and saw the sorrow displayed there he squared his shoulders and said, “If you think that you will need that time I will wait for a day for you.”

She looked up at him gratefully, “That should be sufficient, thank you.”

He gave her a short bow and left the room.

Downstairs Rygel and Stark seemed to have cleared the place of the Terrians and Crais walked towards them, hardly giving the strewn corpses a second glance.

Stark immediately spat venom at him, “You were too late, weren’t you? Weren’t you? You are always too late. I’m going to kill you.”

Crais saw him bring up the pulse-gun but before Stark could aim and shoot he had clasped an iron hand over his hand, “No, I wasn’t too late,” he hissed, “I was in time to save her from… her mother. And next time you intent to point a gun at me you better shoot to kill immediately or there will be no next time! Understood?” His dark eyes bore into Stark’s, the grip on his hand increasing, “Understood?” He repeated.

Stark nodded and Crais let go of his hand.

Crais turned to Rygel, “Aeryn needs a little time on her own. I have given her a day and then she’ll either comes back or I’ll get her and bring her back.” Rygel nodded. Crais continued, “Do you know if we can get supplies on this planet, Rygel?” he ignored Stark’s nodding.

“I think so…” said Rygel picking up on Stark’s nodding.

“Then we will re-supply before we go back to Talyn. Come!” He didn’t wait for an answer of either of them when he strode out of the complex.

Doing commerce on Valldon was an experience on its own. Had one need of herbal remedies and therapies or mind enhancing drugs and potions or “speak with the dead or the living”-paraphernalia or mystics one could find a dozen shops and people within spitting distance of each other. Bars, brothels, temples and morgues stood side by side.

Food-shops, on the other hand, were hard to find.

After the initial buzz, which came with combat Crais felt his energy flagging again. The hustle and bustle of Valldon did nothing to alleviate that. He hated being “pawed” by people. Most of the people they bumped into were either half-crazed or well on their way there. Not being able to locate a food-shop readily put him in a foul mood.

Rygel wasn’t enjoying the experience either. He liked to be fawned not pawed. Even making the hover sled lift itself higher didn’t make him stop being afraid to be toppled over.

“Rygel, do you know where the food-shops are,” growled Crais, his mood darkening by the microt.

“I seem to remember…”

“Then lead us there and let’s get off this… planet!”

If Rygel didn’t have to steer sharply to the left at that precise moment to avoid being knocked off his chair he would have grinned maliciously at Crais for nearly losing his control.

Stark seemed to be less affected by it all and followed Crais and Rygel, muttering softly to himself under his breath.

When they finally encountered the first food-shops Crais and the others had to grit their teeth from the gagging stench. Crais relinquished authority in this instance easily to Rygel. Bartering was not his forte. He only hoped there were edible wares present.

They didn’t do too badly in the end and Rygel had procured a good supply of food cubes, some fresh food and some spare parts Talyn was in need of. They let everything be sent to the transport-pod.

“What do you mean, “he’s gone”,” Crais asked Rygel after he woke up.

“As I said, “he’s gone” only his mask is still left and a vidchip,” he handed this over to Crais who inserted it in the player on the Command Centre.

Stark’s frantic voice filled the room, “Zhaan’s voice is getting stronger. I know she is trying to reach me and I need to discover what she is trying to communicate. Please, do not waste time trying to look for me. It is vital you take what I have left you to the Crichton on Moya. He… and he alone will know what to do with it. Goodbye my friends. Take care of Aeryn. I will find you again.” He took off his mask and the whole screen was filled with a blinding light. When the light returned to normal Stark was gone and the vidchip ended.

Rygel looked questioningly at Crais, “Crais, why would Stark leave this? (-He held up Stark’s mask-) What do you think Crichton wants with it?”

Crais shook his head, he didn’t have the answers either, “I have no idea. Talyn believes he has located Moya. His long range scans has detected Leviathan transmissions from the Metin-Nebula.”

Rygel smiled broadly at Crais, “Well, let’s try and find them. It will be good to get back to Moya.”

Crais smiled wryly at Rygel; somehow he couldn’t share Rygel’s optimism. “Perhaps,” he answered, turning his back to Rygel. Rygel’s smile dropped, he felt sorry for Crais and could almost predict what he was going to say.

Crais squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. He had come to a decision, “As soon as our ships are reunited and Talyn can find someone other than me to pilot him I shall leave.”

Rygel’s voice dropped, not feeling so cheerful anymore, “I hope Moya has done better than we have. Is Aeryn on the way up.”

“She’ll be leaving Valldon within the arn,” answered Crais on the point of leaving.

“Where are you going?”

“To my quarters, to get some peace and quiet.”

“There are only the two of us here. How peaceful do you want it to be?”

Crais turned back to Rygel, “What is it with you people. I go to sleep and everyone disappears, one by one. Do you have any intention of abandoning ship as well?”

The sleep had not restored any of Crais’ good humour and on hearing that it was now Stark’s turn to leave the ship, presumably in search of Zhaan, it only darkened.

“No, why should I,” said Rygel indignantly, “I have no need for planet like Valldon. And talking about bailing out, why would Talyn need a new Captain? Can’t cope with it?” The last he said with a sneer.

“You might not understand,” said Crais, more to himself than to Rygel, “But Talyn might be better off with a different Captain.”

“Always thought that anyway,” snorted Rygel. Crais looked askance at him. “Although it must be said, the youngster has proven himself worthy in battle, if not a little bit too eager. Had always thought that his eagerness was your doing but seeing you busy at the helm this last monen I am not sure anymore if it is solely your doing,” Rygel seemed to consider something, “No, I think Talyn would be more aggressive without you.” He cocked his head at Crais, “Maybe the youngster is in need of a more aggressive Captain to teach him to be a proper gunship. Now it is more in conflict to be more aggressive or more peaceful. You are right, maybe he needs a new Captain.” Rygel left Crais standing in the Control Centre.

Crais stood near the view port with his hands clasped behind his back, looking at the stars but not seeing them.

Maybe Rygel was right and he was wrong.

He had wanted to leave Talyn because he thought his past burdened the youngster with unwanted baggage. He had believed that Talyn’s thoughts were really his thoughts and mainly negative ones as well. There was no denying that Talyn’s character had been shaped out of his thought patterns, whether consciously or sub-consciously, and they had not always been clear not even to himself. Especially in the beginning there had been so much inflexibility (the legacy of his Peacekeepers’s years), pent up anger, frustration and jealousy towards Crichton. The sense of loneliness he felt when his brother died.

But there had also been a sense of wonder and beauty when he bonded with the youngster. His feeling of pride for what Talyn had accomplished in the short period they had been together. There had been a sense of purpose in teaching the youngster and he didn’t care if the others could believe him or not but there was also a sense of sharing and love,

Maybe Rygel was right. It could be that the frustration Talyn felt was because he was unsure whether to behave like a Warrior or a Peacemaker. Poor child! Having Crais’ psyche imbedded in him didn’t help matters along. Crais blamed himself for imposing his thoughts on the youngster.

Could it be his guilt that made him want to abandon Talyn? So many people had died under his command and by his hands. Could it ever be possible to get a second chance or was that just an illusion? He wasn’t sure anymore. Crichton had told him that he didn’t believe that he could change, but he had, even if the others couldn’t believe that. Did he doubt himself now?

With a heavy heart he turned away from the view port and sighed. He had to bring the remainder of this crew back to Moya, he had promised to do so. Maybe the right answer would present itself to him.

He had to pick up Aeryn soon.

THE END

Back to Cycle Two

FanFiction on Captain Bialar Crais