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 7 – The Next Plan

“Aeryn Sun, I require assistance and quickly,” Ch’rall called over his comms.

Aeryn headed for the docking bay at a full gallop with John close behind. “We will take the Marauder,” she threw over her shoulder.

“I hope we can get by D’Argo’s ship,” John worried.

“No cause for concern, John, I am launching now,” D’Argo’s voice boomed.

“I thought we left you in medbay with about a thousand stitches,” John yelled.

“It takes more than a few stitches to stop me when an ally needs help,” he replied.

The two reached the Marauder and quickly readied her for takeoff. “Weapons are online,” John called as he powered the weapons array. Aeryn nodded and hauled the ship into a tight 180-degree maneuver that had John grabbing his console to keep from being catapulted from his seat. Aeryn glanced over, grinning, “I guess I should have told you to hang on.”

“No problem. We’ll just have to get my fingerprints off this and it’ll be good as new.”

Aeryn chuckled and threw the Marauder forward upon clearing Moya’s bay. This time John was pitched back and struggled to fasten his seatbelt before the real turbulence began.

“Yee haw, punch it, Aeryn,” he yelled, grinning like a maniac.

“Glad to oblige,” she called as she accelerated and banked sharply to follow D’Argo.

For an outnumbered craft in a dogfight, time behaves strangely. Minutes become lifetimes. Motion is a blur. Death is co-pilot. Without support, the single craft hovers on the brink of disaster with each passing second. Survival is a matter of skill and blind luck. As the two ships from Moya exploded from the shadow of the moon, Ch’rall had already gone through a number of lifetimes and was laboring mightily to remain lucky. Eight Scorvian Lancers surrounded his ship, being held at bay only by his ship’s design and his piloting skills. All of his weapons blazing, he was slowly being forced into a deadly crossfire. Sweating and cursing, he kept managing to avoid being blasted, but he knew his luck was running out. He breathed a small sigh of relief when he heard Aeryn telling him that help was on the way.

He set a collision course toward the nearest Lancer and pulled the stick back violently at the very last moment, causing two of his pursuers to smash together directly below him. Grimacing, he banked quickly to port, barely avoiding a pulse blast. Now he had two Lancers on his tail and couldn’t shake them. Just before they opened fire, Aeryn and John blew them into a million pieces. D’Argo accounted for another and suddenly the odds became even. The three remaining Lancers began to retreat toward the Scorvian Stinger orbiting nearby. They never made it.

With the Lancers gone, the Stinger began to move away at flank speed with the Marauder and the Mellacat in pursuit.

“Aeryn Sun, let them go, please,” Ch’rall requested. “I want them to take a message to my cousin.”

The Marauder banked sharply and joined D’Argo behind the Mellacat.

“Scorvian Stinger, respond,” Ch’rall demanded.

“Stinger, here,” came a voice.

“Deliver a message to Sh’nam from his ‘loving’ cousin. Tell him my hatred and contempt continue to grow. Tell him his army is the only thing stopping me from eating his liver. His betrayal will never be forgotten or forgiven and he WILL see me again. Ch’rall out,” he concluded.

“Hey, Ch’rall. Remind me to never piss you off,” John called from the Marauder.

“My feud with Sh’nam is longstanding, John Crichton. Betrayal by a family member burns long and hot,” he replied.

“Let’s get back to Moya and check Talyn’s status,” Aeryn said with a worried tone.

The three ships banked as one and sped toward the moon hiding the leviathan. Talyn was floating just off Moya's starboard side as they approached. The four members of Talyn's 'crew' were in the docking bay and watched as they stepped from their ships.

Crais greeted them with a broad smile, “Well done, all of you. We were able to observe the battle from Talyn. You afforded yourselves bravely.”

“Yeah, that was really something. You kicked their eemas, but good,” Chiana added excitedly.

“How did it go with the bounty?” John asked, changing the subject quickly.

"Despite following one of your plans, all went much better than expected,” Rygel countered. “The bounty was quite a bit larger than we anticipated. I knew people hated you, Crichton, but I didn’t realize someone would pay that much to see you dead.”

“Don’t get any ideas, backstabber,” growled D’Argo.

Chiana touched D’argo’s arm. “Rygel was very brave back there. I didn’t believe it myself until I saw it happen. He actually volunteered to be a Scorvian hostage during the negotiations,” she said in a wondering tone. Jool was nodding vigorously in agreement. That piece of information caused John, D’Argo, and Aeryn to stare at the Hynerian in amazement.

“Are we speaking of the same Rygel?” Aeryn spluttered.

“I seem to remember a certain ex-Peacekeeper asking me if ‘honor’ and ‘sacrifice’ were Hynerian concepts. What do you think now, Aeryn?” Rygel asked sharply.

“I think I misjudged you. Well done, Rygel,” she replied in a low tone.

“Your apology is accepted,” he sniffed. “Is anyone else curious about the amount we have? Let’s retire to Command and do some counting.”

As the group made their way out of the bay, both John and D’Argo made it a point to pat Rygel on his back as they passed, causing the small Hynerian to smile broadly. Aeryn graced him with a hundred megawatt smile before proceeding and Chiana and Jool each took one of his arms as they walked beside him. Crais followed, shaking his head. Smiling, Ch’rall followed the group.

Upon reaching Command, Rygel and Chiana busily began to count the currency as the others watched. Knowing them both too well, Aeryn and D’Argo watched the process closely. Crais took this moment to catch John’s attention. “You know, Crichton, Talyn picked up the Intruder on his sensors. Unfortunately, we were in the midst of our negotiations and I could not examine the plasma trail personally. If I had, I would have directed Talyn to pursue and destroy. I’m sorry, Crichton.”

“For what?”

“For not removing a considerable threat to our success. Chatto must have had a larger ship ready to pick her up. She is still out there and trying to capture you,” he replied.

“No use crying over spilt milk. We’ll just have to watch our backs.”

“An everyday occurrence!”

Chiana and Rygel looked at each other and nodded. “We are in agreement about the total. There are five hundred thousand four hundred twenty-one fennicks in these stacks,” Rygel declared.

“Over five hundred thousand fennicks! Are you sure?” D’Argo exclaimed, glancing over the neatly counted stacks on the table.

“Unless Chiana and I have forgotten how to count,” Rygel responded with a large smile. “Just think what we can buy with that amount of currency.”

“Quit drooling, you two. Remember the designated use for this currency,” Aeryn said tersely.

Shaking themselves out of their reverie, both Rygel and Chiana nodded sheepishly. “Of course, of course, but will we need all of it to stop Scorpius?” Rygel asked in a wheedling tone.

“The point is, Hynerian, we will not know until we have a plan,” Crais replied in a clipped tone. “Crichton, this is your quest. Do you have a plan?”

“Actually, Crais, we all signed on as I recall,” John responded. “Everyone can contribute to this mission.”

“Being new here, I am hesitant to make any suggestions,” Ch’rall began.

“No, no, no. Feel free,” John responded.

“The Hynerian has shown us that guile can be successful and it is obvious that we have skilled warriors. However, when one considers defeating a Command Carrier with the resources we have…” his voice trailed off.

“Yeah, yeah, we get the picture. Look if you want to bail, no one will hold it against you,” John replied.

Shaking his head impatiently, Ch’rall grimaced and continued, “You misunderstand, John Crichton. I do not wish to ‘bail’ as you put it. I think we need another resource and I have one who will prove quite helpful.”

Aeryn's eyes narrowed as she regarded the Scorvian, "Go on."

“You will recall that I told you about the renegade Peacekeeper who devised my tracking system for Leviathans in starburst. I told you he met with an unfortunate accident,” Ch’rall continued, glancing from face to face.

"Of course we remember," Crais said, flicking a hand at Ch'rall." But what does a dead renegade have to do with our current situation?"

“I was less than honest about that,” Ch’rall admitted.

D’Argo growled low in his throat, “Was I mistaken in trusting you, Scorvian?”

“Actually I was hunting the renegade for his bounty. When I captured him, he offered to build the tracking device in return for his freedom. Since I have no great love for the Peacekeepers, I decided to free him if he could deliver. You can guess the rest,” Ch’rall smiled. Staring D’Argo directly in the eye, he asked, “Do I still have your trust, Luxan?”

D’Argo nodded silently and the others nodded with him.

“No one knows how to contact him or that he lives. No one except me, that is. Given Crais’ knowledge of his old ship and the technical skill of my renegade, we may be able to sneak a small force onto the carrier. I took the liberty of leaving a holochip containing his location with your pilot in case you thought my idea had worth,” Ch’rall finished hopefully.

“That’s a start, but we’ll need a little more meat on that bone,” John said thoughtfully. Seeing everyone’s confused looks, he added, “Sorry. I just mean we have flesh this out.”

Crais appeared lost in thought. “There just might be a way to infiltrate ‘my’ Command Carrier if your renegade can design a device to dampen the security alarms and sensors for a short time.”

“For the right price, I am sure he could. He told me he was once high in the Peacekeeper technical corps.” Ch’rall sounded confident and a brief glimmer flashed in John’s eyes.

“I may have a few ideas brewing,” John smiled slyly. “Let’s just get some rest and meet later.”

Agreeing to meet during the next breakfast cycle, they all left for their quarters. Aeryn preceded John into their quarters. As the door swung shut, she turned quickly, wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a passionate kiss.

As they broke for air, John grinned, “Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?”

“That was for not hesitating with Chatto. And this is for being the man I love,” she murmured as she kissed him again.

She reached over and palmed the privacy lock and shut off the lighting. Still locked in the kiss, she steered him over to their bunk and collapsed on top of him. He could see her wide smile in the dimness.

The last thing he heard before he lost all reasoning was, “And as I recall, this is the ‘later’ I told you about.”

Several arns later, Aeryn awoke and gently untangled herself from John’s embrace. She had no desire to move, but her comm was being activated.

“Yes, Pilot, what is it?”

“Can you come to my den, please?”

“Is there a problem, Pilot? Do I need to bring John?” she whispered.

“That will not be necessary. There is something here I think you and you alone need to see.”

“On my way.”

Aeryn dressed quickly and silently left John sleeping soundly. As she hurried toward Pilot’s Den, she was vaguely worried. “Pilot rarely summons any of us,” she thought. “This is out of the ordinary.”

Entering the Den, she asked tensely, “Pilot, are you sure that there is nothing wrong with Moya?”

“Quite sure, Aeryn. I wanted you to see the holochip Ch’rall provided me. I think you will find it intriguing.”

“All right, Pilot. Play it and let me get back to bed,” she said, stifling a yawn.

Pilot activated the tape. “This is the image of the renegade.”

Aeryn steadied herself using Pilot’s console. The face was familiar, achingly familiar.

“Impossible. This cannot be who I think it is,” she whispered.

“There is no mistake. The image here and the image in Moya’s data storage match. That is Lt….”

“Velorek,” Aeryn finished.

End Chapter 7