Rating: PG for minor violence and language.

Category: Action/Adventure

Time/Spoilers: Some Season 3 spoilers. Takes place somewhere near the end of Season 3 after John and Aeryn’s resolution of their relationship problems

Summary: After a strange encounter on a Commerce planet, the crew begins to plan their assault on Scorpius, but they need more currency.

Disclaimer: I don’t own them, didn’t create them, and certainly don’t profit from them. Wish I did or had. I promise that I’ll put them back where I found them.

Chapter 12 – Stalking-Horse

As planets go, Soran was quite unremarkable, a small speck of dust in an infinite galaxy. She shared the same system with a bustling Commerce planet, but her orbit placed her a full solar day’s travel from the common shipping lanes. When compared to her huge sister she had little to offer to visitors. Much as the downtown areas of cities on Earth had withered away due to suburban growth, the planet had almost died economically and been deserted except for a few stubborn inhabitants who had one last idea about what to offer visitors.

The populace agreed to sell the one commodity they had that the larger Commerce planet did not: absolute privacy. No matter who or what came to the planet’s surface, all activities were studiously ignored and no records were kept. Their reputation for discretion grew by word of mouth and slowly the backwater place became a haven for people with private dealings. Some visitors might be outlaws seeking a respite from pursuit, some might be illicit lovers looking for a quiet place to whisper their endearments, and some might be harried businesspersons who wished to get away from it all. On Soran, everyone was treated with deference and courtesy as long as they could pay the price.

The Marauder sat about twenty yards from the Mellacat. A casual observer on any other planet might wonder what business Peacekeepers had with Scorvians. But Soran was atypical in that there were no observers, casual or otherwise. As long as the landing duty was paid and a hefty departure fee was collected in advance, visitors were assured that no official would ever bother them because Soran had no officials. In fact, there was no government, just a loose confederation of merchants who understood two things: privacy and currency.

The privacy merchants had long ago discovered that advance collection was a necessity. Occasionally tempers flared and violent disagreements arose, leaving vacant ships and deceased passengers. Those passengers became food for the creatures in the barren wastes. Why waste time and money on burials with the wasteland and its scavengers just a short transport ride away. The surplus ships were considered a gratuity for services rendered and gave the residents something to trade on visits to the Commerce planet.

Somewhere else others may have wondered at the beings facing each other outside the respective vessels: a massive Scorvian facing a Peacekeeper and a being defying description. However, this was Soran where privacy was the only religion.

“So this is the infamous Ch’rall?” Scorpius purred.

John was waiting on the Scorvian Mellacat and shuddered as he heard the familiar silky voice. This time it isn’t Harvey. He fingered the area where Velorek had implanted the communication device gingerly. He knew that his plan depended on the subcutaneous chip avoiding detection and sending the signal when activated.

Suddenly Harvey’s hand pulled John’s arm down slowly. “Which is why he disguised it as scar tissue and made it obviously visible. Hidden in plain view as it were. Quit touching it, John. You don’t want to activate it by mistake, do you?” he admonished.

“Yeah, you’re right, Harvey,” John admitted as he clasped his hands and interlocked his fingers.

“You need to focus, John. You have to appear belligerent, but frightened,”

“No problem there, Harv. I’m scared spitless right now.” John shivered slightly.

Ch’rall faced Scorpius with his arms crossed and a neutral expression. “Yes and I have someone to deliver to you. According to your wanted beacon, there is a substantial reward for the being, John Crichton. I have come to claim my currency.”

Scorpius appeared excited and visibly forced himself back into control. “You have Crichton?” he asked quickly.

Ch’rall nodded slightly. “I found him on a Commerce planet. The fool was walking around as if he had not a care.”

“What of his friends?” Scorpius asked suspiciously.

“There were no friends. I simply waited for him to reach an area of relative seclusion, subdued him and took him to my ship. No one seemed to take any notice.”

“You didn’t see a Luxan or any Peacekeepers?” Braca asked, eliciting a low growl from Scorpius. Braca blanched and took a step back. Casting his eyes down, Braca apologized quickly for interrupting.

“Yes,” Scorpius continued as if Braca hadn’t spoken. “We had heard that Crichton was not traveling alone. The good Lieutenant raises an important point since Crichton has been seen with such beings before.”

Feigning impatience, Ch’rall growled, “As I have said, he was alone. I am neither inexperienced in surveillance nor in capturing wanted beings. If you wish this prisoner, then pay what you have promised in your beacon.”

“Of course, but we need to verify his identity. Please bring him to me.”

“As you wish.” Ch’rall turned and entered his vessel. Moments later Crichton hurtled out the door and landed in a heap at Scorpius’ feet. Moaning softly, Crichton rolled over and looked up. “Hey, Scorpy. Long time, no see.”

Motioning to Braca to help John to his feet, Scorpius smiled. “Yes, John. It has been a long time,” he murmured. “We have many things to discuss.”

“I take it I have delivered the correct person,” Ch’rall interrupted. “I would like my currency now.”

Scorpius turned to Braca and nodded. Braca produced the necessary payment and placed it in Ch’rall’s hand.

“Do you feel better now? You big, ugly, sneaky son-of-a-bitch…” John yelled. He was cut off by a quick backhand from Braca.

“Now, John, don’t create an unnecessary scene. No one here will take any notice,” Scorpius said.

Ch’rall backed slowly towards his ship with his hands hovering near his pulse weapons. “I will take my leave now. Our business is finished,” he growled.

“Of course,” Scorpius replied magnanimously. “You have done me a great service. Thank you.”

Ch’rall’s ship lifted off silently, leaving John alone with his most hated enemy. “Scorpy, before we begin to dance and you begin to threaten, what do you say we make a deal?” John asked softly.

“And what kind of deal would you want, John?”

“I’ll help you unlock the wormhole equations in my head if you call your dogs off my friends.”

“You want your friends pardoned of their crimes?”

“And I also want all of the beacons removed and deactivated or no deal.”

“What’s to stop me from taking what I want? Have you forgotten the chair?”

“You mean the one that didn’t work the last time. I haven’t forgotten the chip, either. You need my cooperation, Scorpy, or you’ll kill me and all the information you want will go bye-bye.”

“You drive a hard bargain, John.”

Turning to Braca, Scorpius ordered, “See to it.”

“But, Sir, are you certain that this deficient specimen will keep his word?” Braca asked in a servile tone.

“He knows our methods and our technology, Lieutenant. I’m sure he has a very good idea what will happen to him if he reneges on his part of the bargain.”

Turning to Crichton, Scorpius smiled and clapped John on the back. “Don’t you, John?”

“Oh, yeah, Scorpy. I’m sure you have some little toys that would make Batman wet his pants. I repeat, I’ll help you if you help my friends.”

“Done!” Nodding, he tightened his grip on John while Braca administered a hypnospray. John had just enough time to begin to raise his hand to the sting in his neck before he toppled.

He awoke strapped to a table in a medbay aboard Scropius’ Command Carrier. He turned his head at the sound of voices and saw Scorpius talking to a medical tech. Evidently, Scorpius was satisfied with the report because as he noticed John had returned to consciousness, he smiled broadly.

Motioning for the tech to leave, Scorpius moved toward the table. “Well, John, according to our scans it appears that you have no hidden weapons or communication devices.” Appearing thoughtful, he continued, “Do you remember the last time we were in a similar situation?”

“How could I forget? You sentenced me to live so that my frustrated desire for revenge would consume me. I had just buried Aeryn and had my speech destroyed. Oh, I remember everything, you sorry son-of-a-bitch. You thought you had won, but I fooled you.”

Harvey’s voice echoed in John’s head. “Be careful, John. He doesn’t know that Aeryn Sun lives and that Crais is with you now.”

Scorpius shook his head. “So it would seem. Sometime you must tell me how you managed to regain your speech.” As he began to undo John’s restraints, he continued, “It is unfortunate that you also kept your ability to be so annoying, but we can’t have everything, can we?”

John sat up and massaged his wrists. “Have you kept your part of our bargain?” he asked pointedly.

“Of course, John. I have never been dishonest with you as you well know.”

“Where’s the proof?”

“This message was sent to High Command before you awakened. I trust you will believe your own ears and eyes,” Scorpius replied, handing John a vidchip. “It contains a full report and accounts of Aeryn Sun’s death and my recommendations for the pardon of the Luxan, the Delvian, and the Hynerian. The chip also contains their acknowledgement and the official data entries in High Command’s computer logs.”

“You don’t mind if I see this for myself, do you?”

Scorpius indicated a nearby player and turned to leave the room. “Of course not. Take all the time you wish.”

“Hey, Scorpy, before you go how about telling me what this thing is around my thigh.”

“That, John, is insurance. The Nebari use a mind control collar, but we Peacekeepers prefer a more direct approach. If you attempt to leave my vessel while it is activated, the explosion will tear your leg off. You will probably bleed to death, but your brain will still be intact when we find your body.”

“So much for subtlety,” John said with a grimace. He inserted the chip into the player and verified that his friends were no longer hunted. He hadn’t waited long before Scorpius entered the medbay again.

“Satisfied?”

John retrieved the chip and put it in his pocket. “Yup. Let’s get to work.”

Upon entering the wormhole laboratory, John’s attention was attracted by what he took to be an albino gnome, whom Scorpius introduced as Strappa, project leader. After what John would have called a ‘meet and greet,’ he asked for existing data and known problems from previous experiments. He began to throw himself into the project single-mindedly even to the point of forgetting meals.

Things proceeded in much the same fashion for the next two weekens. John worked with the equations and studied the disturbing effects on the unlucky pilots who had tried the first runs through the wormholes. Cell degeneration! What a banal name for a horrible way to die. How did I get so lucky? Or maybe it’s just the difference in physiology. The more he thought about it, the more solutions began to present themselves.

The change was so subtle that John barely noticed it at first. The amount of time that Scorpius or Braca spent lurking over him gradually decreased. In the beginning, one or the other was constantly at his elbow, watching him carefully. On the fifteenth day, he entered the lab and found only standard security personnel. They treated him like every other member of Scorpius’ team. Their attention was drawn more to outward threats since they were charged with protecting the team, not observing their work. As a matter of fact, John noticed slight signs of boredom. These guys are soldiers and I’ll bet tech work is beneath them.

He had seen a female tech hovering nearby at times, but she always turned and went the other way when he noticed her. She seemed familiar, but he knew no blonde Peacekeeper females except Gilina and she was dead. He decided to give the situation two or three more days and then activate Velorek’s chip if things remained the same. Besides, I’m making progress. This is the most fascinating research I’ve ever done.

Late during the next sleep cycle he had a sudden thought and headed for the laboratory and its computer databanks to test a theory. As he entered the lab, he felt something very sharp press into his lower back.

“Just keep walking and don’t turn around,” whispered a familiar voice.

“What are you doing here? I haven’t activated the signal yet,” he asked Velorek.

“I told Ch’rall that the signal had been given. I thought I would come early and surprise you.”

“Consider me surprised. What’s with the knife?”

Ignoring John’s question, Velorek continued, “You will be pleased to know that my invention is busily destroying data even as we speak. I think it is working perfectly. I should be an anonymous Sebacean soon and the wormhole data will be hopelessly corrupted.”

“That’s good to know. What’s with the knife?” John persisted.

“Well, I neglected to mention the second part of this little venture,” Velorek replied.

“Which is?”

“The part I knew you wouldn’t like. The part where I kill you and get Aeryn back,” he replied coldly. “She could love me again, you know. All I have to do is be there with sympathy for your unfortunate demise and the offer of a life free of being hunted.”

“Velorek, do you remember when you told her that she could be more?”

“Of course I do. I told her that just before Crais had me arrested. What is your point?”

“My point is that you were right. She has become much more in the last few cycles. I don’t think you would recognize her now. She doesn’t think like a Peacekeeper any more.”

“I still fail to see any point other than your stalling to continue your life.”

“I’m saying that whatever you thought you two had in common is long gone. She has moved past anything you could offer her.”

“Maybe, but if you were gone, she might choose me as a partner. I can’t believe she took up with a deficient species like you, but that is easily rectified.” With that, he thrust the knife into John with a vengeance. John fell to his knees, his hands weakly scrabbling toward the spot of cold pain which seemed to radiate outward in waves from his left kidney. He fought desperately to maintain consciousness, but he could feel himself slipping away as he lost copious amounts of blood. John pitched forward and blackness swallowed him. He lay motionless on the deck with a widening puddle of blood beneath him.

As Velorek poised himself for the coup-de-grace, he heard the sound of a pulse pistol charging next to his ear and felt the muzzle press against the top of his spine. Before he could turn, he heard a cold voice say, “You’re wrong, Velorek.” The low intensity blast nearly severed his head and threw him against a bulkhead. He was dead before his body slid to the deck, an expression of shocked surprise on his face.

As John swam back to consciousness, he was aware of strong, gentle fingers checking his pulse and binding his wound to stop the bleeding. He opened his eyes and saw the blonde hair of the female tech as she was putting the finishing touches on his field dressing. His eyes widened as he recognized the powerful profile of the face hovering over him.

“Aeryn, what are you doing here? Where’s Velorek?” he asked weakly.

“Watching your backside, as always. I told you once, we live or die together and that won’t change. As for Velorek, let’s just say he finally earned his decommission.”

John nodded in understanding as she began to run her fingers over his torso, searching for other wounds. After satisfying herself that there were none, she whispered in a quivering voice, “How do you feel? More importantly, can you walk?”

“Help me up and we’ll see. I take it we’re about to hightail it.”

“If you mean get the hezmana out of here, then the answer is yes. The carrier’s sensors may have picked up the pulse blast even though I had it on a low setting.”

“Before we do anything, there are three things you need to know.”

She turned to him with glistening eyes and waited impatiently. “Well, what are they?”

He kissed her soundly before speaking. “One, thank you and I love you. Two, this gentleman doesn’t prefer blondes and three, there’s this thing on my leg which goes boom if I try to leave.”

“Let me see it.”

John dropped his pants to show her the device, earning him a quick smile. “Nice Calvins!” she said appreciatively.

“You weren’t looking at my Calvins and you know it,” John smirked.

“We don’t have time for this now. You’ll get us both killed. Just let me look at this thing for a microt.”

“Aeryn, I think we can disarm this thing, but you’ll have to be my hands. Give me your tech kit,” John said with excitement.

John rummaged around until he found four clips connected to a capacitor coil. “These should work. Pop the cover off. Take out the explosive very carefully. Do you see the wires, one red and one black? Strip the insulation and put two clips on each wire over the stripped parts. Then cut the main wires between the clips.” After Aeryn cut the wires, they both held their breath and waited to be blown to bits.

No explosion came and they both began to breathe again. In a shaky voice, John continued, “Now undo the sensor that was under the explosive. Easy! Good! Do you see the attaching wire underneath?”

Aeryn wiped a trickle of perspiration from her brow. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she muttered. Seeing John’s quizzical expression, “Following another one of your plans,” she said with a grin.

Before he could respond, she asked anxiously, “What do I do now?”

“Do the same thing as before. That should convince the device that it’s still armed. Now break the lock on the back of it and pray.”

She broke the lock and gently removed the device, setting it aside. Then she helped Crichton struggle to his feet. Their progress was slow as they made their way to the nearest exit. Behind them, Braca entered the lab, saw Velorek’s body and drew his pistol. His shot hit Aeryn in the right calf, spinning her around. Her shot hit Braca and he fell, but klaxons were going off throughout the lab.

John gripped her anxiously and examined the wound. Fashioning a tourniquet from his belt, he wrapped it around her leg and stopped the bleeding. At his questioning glance, she nodded, biting her lip to distract her from the pain. As they reached the exit, he began to grin as he noticed the sonic grenades in her pack.

“I knew I could count on you to bring the good stuff. Nothing says ‘I love you’ like a well-timed pulse shot or a pack full of sonic grenades. Let’s spread a few of these around just to make sure,” he said, grimacing in pain.

They pitched the grenades into the laboratory and palmed the exit shut. Making their way slowly down a corridor, they heard explosions behind them and a lot of commandos coming toward them. Glancing frantically for a place to hide, they were both suddenly pushed roughly into an alcove by a large shadowy figure. As the commandos ran past, John and Aeryn looked up to see D’Argo smiling down at them.

“How the hell did you get here?” John blurted in a whisper.

“He brought me. Have you had a problem avoiding detection?”

“Later! We need to go up this ladder to get to that gangway. We can take it back to my ship,” he replied gruffly.

The three made their way up the ladder and began traveling along the gangway as quickly as they could. D’Argo called a brief halt so he could check their bandages for leaks. He removed Aeryn’s tourniquet and hastily applied a field dressing.

“Wouldn’t do to have blood dripping at the wrong time,” he muttered. Aeryn and John nodded assent.

The journey was slow, arduous, and painful with the threat of discovery a constant worry. They finally came to an exit directly over a hanger bay. John and Aeryn both looked around, but all they could see were two Prowlers.

D’Argo signaled for quiet. Taking a strange-looking device from his belt, he pointed it straight down and pressed a button. An invisible hatch swung open and they were looking down into D’Argo’s Luxan warship.

“Whoa, that’s way cool! I didn’t know it could do that,” John exclaimed weakly as he fluttered in and out of consciousness.

“I’m sure there are a number of things my ship can do that I have not yet discovered, but this ability does simplify our task.”

After scanning for any pilots or techs wandering around, the three made their way down into the Luxan craft. When the hatch was sealed, they all breathed a huge sigh.

“Let’s take a look at those wounds and leave the questions until after we have gotten off this piece of dren,” D’Argo demanded. Since John was so pale, his examination was first. D’Argo held him as Aeryn peeled back the dressing, causing John to wince and clench his fists.

“Damn, that hurts like hell,” he said through clenched teeth.

D’Argo and Aeryn exchanged a concerned look as they noticed John perspiring heavily. They both knew this was a bad sign. Experience told them he needed medical attention that they couldn’t give at the moment. She redressed the wound as best she could as John passed out.

Aeryn’s wound was less severe, but still required stitches. D’Argo gently wrapped cloth around it and then turned to check the hangar bay again. The bay was still deserted, but the doors were sealed.

“We have to wait until those doors open or blast our way through,” he growled.

“Blasting would seem to be the perfect way to give away our presence,” Aeryn replied dryly. This remark earned a curt nod from the Luxan.

“Crichton’s condition is worsening,” D’Argo said with concern.

Aeryn acknowledged his comment with a nod and continued to stare out into the hangar bay. All they could do now was wait.

End Chapter 12