Blue Eyes - Chapter 19
Sep. 2nd, 2003 11:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
itsallovernowOk, too much talking, too much waffling, but I had to write through this and now I'm back on track. This chapter's a mixed bag, but that's what the editing process is for. I just had to post something before I lost my momentum.
Chapter 19
The palace was amazingly quiet so early in the day. Granted, the parts of the complex she was allowed to move about in were generally not buzzing with activity, but the imperial guards, her mothers’ troops
and those civilians brave or unconcerned enough to try and maintain some normality in these troubled times were a definite presence. This morning, however, the air was still and the eerie quiet of early morning haunted the structure. Anix carefully ate bread and cheese, picking the food apart to draw out the meal.
She hadn’t been able to sleep and to make matters worse, her mother hadn’t returned to their quarters
that night. On Moya, she didn’t share quarters with Aeryn, but strangely enough, having her mother nearby had added a touch of familiarity to this echoing palace. Teyvn was in a chair, leaning up against the wall, snoring softly. She wondered how long he’d follow Aeryn’s decree himself before giving in and assigning guards to her.
The ovens in the palace hadn’t been destroyed, and were still being manned by unseen workers, providing enough bread to pass around to the inhabitants of the compound. The bakers started early though, and when Anix came into the common room that morning, it smelled warm and yeasty, reminding her of the cycles spent on planet. Supplies were shuttled back and forth from the surrounding city every solar day, and it was a constant headache for whomever was assigned to monitor the transactions. On the other hand, the soldiers and the imperial residents were growing less wary of each other and those who had lived in the palace compound, as well as those taking refuge there, were slowly venturing into the areas patrolled by the troops. And of course, she knew that meant they’d have to leave soon. Time was running short. She looked around, and wondered briefly what it would have been like to grow up here, amidst the formal splendor and the hordes of decadent Sebaceans. Perhaps, if Crichton’s princess woke up, she’d ask her.
When Aeryn entered the room, typically focused and intent, Anix didn’t look up or call out a greeting to her. She continued to pick at the food and waited. Aeryn looked over at Teyvn, but let him be and sat down at the table facing her daughter.
“You’re up early,” she said lightly.
Anix shrugged. Aeryn’s shirt was uniform black, zipped and fitted, and hiding at the edge of the material was a bruise on her collarbone.
“Is that from the Scarren?” she asked, nodding. Aeryn raised her hand, felt at her neck, letting her fingers rest on the mark, and then, hesitating, nodded.
“He didn’t surrender easily,” she said.
Anix shrugged again.
“Were you unable to sleep?” Aeryn asked.
“I kept waiting for you to come back,” she said, not looking her mother in the eye, “but you didn’t.”
“I’m sorry. I had something I needed to do.”
Again, Anix raised her shoulders, trying to dismiss the hurt.
“Anix, I am sorry,” Aeryn’s tone was genuinely contrite.
“It’s ok. You’re not there very often anyway. I just wanted to know about Be’Ann.”
She looked up then, meeting her mother’s steady grey eyes. “Is she dead?”
Aeryn set her mouth, and nodded once. “She was a spy,” she added softly, “for the Peacekeepers.”
Hot tears stung at Anix’s eyes and her throat tightened, but she refused to cry. She’d spent enough of the past few solar days sobbing like an infant, she wouldn’t break down in front of her mother again. But it hurt, cutting into her. Her friend, gone, dead, like so many others because of this war, or because of a decision that Aeryn had made.
“Did you kill her?” she asked, trying to keep her voice even, but she could hear the accusation bleed through.
“Yes.”
The response was so calm, so unemotional, like she hadn’t just ended the life of someone who had watched Anix as a child, talked to her and played with her, eaten at their table on the rare occasions when there were formal dinners, sung to her to help her sleep when Aeryn was on a mission. She wanted to scream, to rage at Aeryn and ask when this was all going to stop, but there really was no answer for that.
“We need to speed up the work we are doing for the planet’s residents,” said Aeryn. “We’ve spent too much time here and I’m not sure what else we can accomplish before we’re needed elsewhere. I’d like you to help the techs after your lessons are over or the day.”
“I’m not going to my lessons anymore,” the defiance felt wonderful. She waited for Aeryn’s rebuttal.
“Yes, you are. It’s important.”
“Why? What do I need all this for? History, and mathematics and fairy stories. What does any of this matter if we’re just going to die eventually.”
Aeryn’s mouth did tighten at that, and Anix knew she’d struck a nerve. “Even as a Peacekeeper I was required to continue learning until I was 15 cycles, and then we specialized more thoroughly. This is important.”
“No,” Anix said. “It’s not. You want me to be where you can find me, and you don’t trust me to work with the soldiers, and you never tell me anything. It’s just a way to keep me occupied.”
Aeryn looked at her, eyes narrowing, anger starting to burn in her. “No, it’s not. I want you educated so that you are prepared for anything.”
“I’ll be more prepared if you let me help the soldiers. Hezmana, I could even help Crichton and he’s not a soldier.”
“Anix,” the warning in her tone was apparent. Aeryn had reached the limit of her patience, but something perverse kept Anix pushing forward.
“I’m not going to my lessons while we’re still on this planet, and you can’t make me.”
She glared at Aeryn, waiting for the retaliation, the inevitable words of yes, I can make you. She saw D’Argo out of the corner of her eye, entering the room, thwaping Teyvn’s boots, waking up the soldier. The silence stretched out between mother and daughter, heavy and butter thick. Neither man said anything, unaware of what they’d just walked into.
“Fine,” Aeryn said.
“But,” Anix started to retort and then realized Aeryn wasn’t arguing.
“You’re right,” her mother continued, “I can’t physically force you to go to your lessons. I don’t have the manpower to exert on that and it’s simply not worth it. However, if you refuse to follow the schedule I’ve set, you will take duty shifts like all the other soldiers. There will be none of this random wandering around the palace or wasting time with Crichton.”
Aeryn stood up, looked at D’Argo and Teyvn. “I want her on the roster in an arn,” she ordered flatly and walked out.
“Aeryn,” D’Argo called out, but she kept walking. “Frelling Sebaceans,” he muttered as he jogged after her.
Anix looked at Teyvn, open-mouthed. Had she just won?
“You really know when to pick your battles, kid?” he said, sounding slightly disappointed and she wondered if it was disappointment in her.
***
“Aeryn,” D’Argo called out after her, knowing by her stride and the set of her shoulders that it was useless. He stopped in the passageway.
“Captain Sun,” he barked. “I am not going to chase you down this frelling hallway.”
Aeryn stopped, back ramrod straight. She didn’t turn around, but stood there and waited for him. It was all he could do to not shake her when he reached her. He hadn’t slept well, hadn’t slept much in the past few solar days, and he was growing weary of mediating between battling factions, especially the mother and daughter faction.
“She can serve on guard duty, she can haul cable or machinery, she can fix circuits,” she said before he’d even come around the front of her. “ But I want her on a duty shift, and I want her dead tired by the end of the day. She thinks I’m punishing her by forcing her to keep up in her lessons and her training,”
“Aeryn,” D’Argo interrupted her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We’ve all had a long weeken. Don’t take it out on your daughter.”
A mark on her neck caught his eye, and he pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow.
“Oh frell off , D’Argo.” she said, shaking off his hand.
“Aeryn, what were you thinking?” he asked, genuinely wondering. Sixteen cycles ago the currents of love and longing that had run between his two shipmates had been palpable, despite the ex-Peacekeeper’s fears and denials. But that had been a lifetime ago, and there were many other factors at work here. He’d seen the renewed glances, the softening towards each other, and he’d warned Aeryn. But she’d apparently chosen to disregard the advice.
“It was recreation,” she said, trying to meet his eye. “Release.”
He snorted, and wondered how he could back out of this conversation. Aeryn steadied herself and looked at him shrewdly. “Sixteen cycles of you and Chiana, and all that frelling drama, and not once did I question you.”
“Aeryn!” his voice practically squeaked in outrage. “You questioned me all the time. You threatened to shoot me if I didn’t at least make the effort to get over her.”
“Yes, well, you didn’t and I let it alone. What happens between John and I is our business.”
She looked at the ground and her voice softened ever so slightly. “It isn’t going to interfere in our finishing things here and leaving. We still need to try and convince the Empress to either serve as an ally, evacuate, or leave her to one of the warring factions.”
“We haven’t made any of those alternatives particularly appealing,” D’Argo said cynically.
Aeryn shrugged. “None of them are appealing. They are all about guaranteed to end in more death and destruction. At least if she joins with the rebellion, I can leave troops here with the blessings of the council.”
She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck, “Maybe they are right, maybe Be’Ann was right and we aren’t doing any good. Maybe we should have left them to the ravages of the Peacekeeper forces.”
D’Argo huffed out a breath, equally uncertain. “We had to come Aeryn.”
“No. We didn’t.” she responded. “ I let sentiment, memories of the past, influence me.”
“John would have died,” D’Argo said, “Many more civilian casualties would have occurred, this entire world could have been destroyed.”
She glared at him, “Yes, but what if Be’Ann really did call Scorpius? What if he still wants John, thinks he can still access wormhole knowledge from him. It would give the Peacekeepers an unbeatable advantage. We would be completely frelling useless, not even a jot on their radar.”
“It’s the risk we take Aeryn. You know that. And we can protect John. We’re no longer a band of fugitives without allies. We can at least keep Scorpius away from him.”
She closed her eyes. “He’s seeing flashes of Scorpius, D’Argo, and I don’t know what to think. It could be a neural chip, one of his frelling mind control devices. It’s probably primitive if it’s something that Scorpius did that long ago, but I’ve no idea if he really did something to John or if Crichton is just cracking up from the stress of having been frozen. That machine wasn’t designed for humans and we have no idea what kind of damage it did to his neural pathways.”
D’Argo pursed up his mouth, “Well, if it is some sort of control device, we can have a surgeon search for it and try to remove it.”
“With what? Most of their equipment has been destroyed. The royal physician is completely consumed with the Princess and the other healers are still dealing with those wounded or ill from the attack. Too many were hurt. We can’t spare their services to take John Crichton’s brain apart. And I’m not sure if he’d agree to it anyway. I told him that Scorpius could be on his way, and he seemed to just take it in stride. I know he’s still terrified, but something’s shifting in him.”
“He has other responsibilities now,” D’Argo said softly. “Katralla and the child, whomever is revived. You, and I, of all people, understand duty to someone that weighs out over duty to one’s self.”
Aeryn nodded curtly, cutting the conversation off and refocusing. “Yes, and speaking of which.”
D’Argo just shook his head, “Yes. She’ll be on duty within the arn. The messiest, most uncomfortable duty that she’s qualified for.”
“Thank you.”
He snorted. “Don’t thank me. She’s going to hate you after this. She wanted a fight and you just gave in.”
“Gave in to what,” asked Crichton, coming around the corner. “Mornin’ D. Captain.”
He tried to keep his expression neutral, but his eyes lingered on Aeryn for a moment. He bit his lower lip, and said, “Hey. You guys are up pretty early.”
Aeryn nodded, equally transfixed and pretending she wasn’t and D’Argo resisted the urge to bang their heads together.
“So,” he repeated, “What did you give in too?”
“Anix,” she said slowly. “She wanted to be useful, and so she shall.”
Crichton laughed a little at that, grinned at D’Argo. “Teenagers are teenagers in every species.”
He looked back at Aeryn, the grin still fixed but a little faded now and cocked his head. “She mad at you?”
“ She’s been fighting me about the lessons. And I finally agreed she didn’t have to continue them, but would take a shift with the other soldiers if she wanted it so badly.”
John laughed, “She’s gonna be hating life in about 8 arns. I’ve seen the work they do.”
Aeryn grimaced, “She’s getting too old to argue with. She’s always been willful, but this is something different. She’s joyous and then despondent, argumentative and then quick and helpful. It’s making me crazy,” she added in exasperation.
John moved a little closer to her, brushing his fingers gently against the sleeve of her shirt. “She’s growing up,” he said softly.
“Yes,” Aeryn frowned, “Peacekeepers aren’t like this. We weren’t allowed to be.”
She looked at D’Argo and shook her head. “The one thing I’ve wanted was for her to be prepared to do anything, to survive any situation, to not end up a Peacekeeper, and now that she’s not, I don’t have a frelling clue what to do with her,” she add in exasperation.
John wrapped his hand gently around her arm, a gesture of reassurance. “I think every parent goes through this, Aeryn.” He looked at D’Argo for confirmation. D’Argo, thinking about the disastrous relationship he’d had with his own adolescent son, just sighed deeply and agreed.
“Why are you awake this early?” Aeryn asked, abruptly changing the subject.
John let go of her, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked back and forth between the two of them, and then finally said with false brightness. “Made my decision and needed to talk to the doc. He said it will take a few solar days, but he should be able to redirect the systems and hopefully then Katralla will wake up.”
He swallowed heavily and D’Argo felt the sadness weighing on his friend. “And the child?” he asked. John shook his head. “99% sure they can’t save it. Katralla’s DNA and that screwy machine have pretty much frelled things up.”
He looked at Aeryn, couldn’t seem to not look at Aeryn in fact.
“I can’t make decisions about this place by myself,” he said, as if pleading his case. “And the Empress is blinded by all of this. She’s acting out of anger and fear and false notions, and I’m just not enough. Katralla was always doing things for the good of her people. She wanted to be Empress to serve them. Hell, she married me to serve her empire, to be able to offer it dynastic integrity and hopefully we’ll be able to follow through on that. And she’ll be able to serve them better than a baby would. I have no idea if it’s the right decision, but I think it is.”
He didn’t sound hopeful though, just uncertain. D’Argo clapped him on the shoulder, trying to offer some support, and John smiled morosely in thanks, but continued to watch Aeryn, waiting for her reaction. “
I’m sorry, John,” she said, her tone hushed. “I know how much that child meant to you.”
He nodded, and she reached out to him, her fingertips resting on his whitened knuckles. He turned his hand over, capturing her fingers. “Yeah,” he said, squeezing her hand tightly. “You probably have to go huh?”
Aeryn nodded.
“Ok.” He released her, and she walked past him, her stride slower and more hesitant.
“I really am sorry, my friend,” said D’Argo.
“Thanks D.” he said with a sigh, turning his head and watching Aeryn disappear around the corner. “Let’s get some breakfast.”
D’Argo grunted his agreemen, “And then I have to find a place for a 14 cycle old cadet where she won’t get maimed, injured or killed but will still be cursing her sires before the day is out.”
Chapter 19
The palace was amazingly quiet so early in the day. Granted, the parts of the complex she was allowed to move about in were generally not buzzing with activity, but the imperial guards, her mothers’ troops
and those civilians brave or unconcerned enough to try and maintain some normality in these troubled times were a definite presence. This morning, however, the air was still and the eerie quiet of early morning haunted the structure. Anix carefully ate bread and cheese, picking the food apart to draw out the meal.
She hadn’t been able to sleep and to make matters worse, her mother hadn’t returned to their quarters
that night. On Moya, she didn’t share quarters with Aeryn, but strangely enough, having her mother nearby had added a touch of familiarity to this echoing palace. Teyvn was in a chair, leaning up against the wall, snoring softly. She wondered how long he’d follow Aeryn’s decree himself before giving in and assigning guards to her.
The ovens in the palace hadn’t been destroyed, and were still being manned by unseen workers, providing enough bread to pass around to the inhabitants of the compound. The bakers started early though, and when Anix came into the common room that morning, it smelled warm and yeasty, reminding her of the cycles spent on planet. Supplies were shuttled back and forth from the surrounding city every solar day, and it was a constant headache for whomever was assigned to monitor the transactions. On the other hand, the soldiers and the imperial residents were growing less wary of each other and those who had lived in the palace compound, as well as those taking refuge there, were slowly venturing into the areas patrolled by the troops. And of course, she knew that meant they’d have to leave soon. Time was running short. She looked around, and wondered briefly what it would have been like to grow up here, amidst the formal splendor and the hordes of decadent Sebaceans. Perhaps, if Crichton’s princess woke up, she’d ask her.
When Aeryn entered the room, typically focused and intent, Anix didn’t look up or call out a greeting to her. She continued to pick at the food and waited. Aeryn looked over at Teyvn, but let him be and sat down at the table facing her daughter.
“You’re up early,” she said lightly.
Anix shrugged. Aeryn’s shirt was uniform black, zipped and fitted, and hiding at the edge of the material was a bruise on her collarbone.
“Is that from the Scarren?” she asked, nodding. Aeryn raised her hand, felt at her neck, letting her fingers rest on the mark, and then, hesitating, nodded.
“He didn’t surrender easily,” she said.
Anix shrugged again.
“Were you unable to sleep?” Aeryn asked.
“I kept waiting for you to come back,” she said, not looking her mother in the eye, “but you didn’t.”
“I’m sorry. I had something I needed to do.”
Again, Anix raised her shoulders, trying to dismiss the hurt.
“Anix, I am sorry,” Aeryn’s tone was genuinely contrite.
“It’s ok. You’re not there very often anyway. I just wanted to know about Be’Ann.”
She looked up then, meeting her mother’s steady grey eyes. “Is she dead?”
Aeryn set her mouth, and nodded once. “She was a spy,” she added softly, “for the Peacekeepers.”
Hot tears stung at Anix’s eyes and her throat tightened, but she refused to cry. She’d spent enough of the past few solar days sobbing like an infant, she wouldn’t break down in front of her mother again. But it hurt, cutting into her. Her friend, gone, dead, like so many others because of this war, or because of a decision that Aeryn had made.
“Did you kill her?” she asked, trying to keep her voice even, but she could hear the accusation bleed through.
“Yes.”
The response was so calm, so unemotional, like she hadn’t just ended the life of someone who had watched Anix as a child, talked to her and played with her, eaten at their table on the rare occasions when there were formal dinners, sung to her to help her sleep when Aeryn was on a mission. She wanted to scream, to rage at Aeryn and ask when this was all going to stop, but there really was no answer for that.
“We need to speed up the work we are doing for the planet’s residents,” said Aeryn. “We’ve spent too much time here and I’m not sure what else we can accomplish before we’re needed elsewhere. I’d like you to help the techs after your lessons are over or the day.”
“I’m not going to my lessons anymore,” the defiance felt wonderful. She waited for Aeryn’s rebuttal.
“Yes, you are. It’s important.”
“Why? What do I need all this for? History, and mathematics and fairy stories. What does any of this matter if we’re just going to die eventually.”
Aeryn’s mouth did tighten at that, and Anix knew she’d struck a nerve. “Even as a Peacekeeper I was required to continue learning until I was 15 cycles, and then we specialized more thoroughly. This is important.”
“No,” Anix said. “It’s not. You want me to be where you can find me, and you don’t trust me to work with the soldiers, and you never tell me anything. It’s just a way to keep me occupied.”
Aeryn looked at her, eyes narrowing, anger starting to burn in her. “No, it’s not. I want you educated so that you are prepared for anything.”
“I’ll be more prepared if you let me help the soldiers. Hezmana, I could even help Crichton and he’s not a soldier.”
“Anix,” the warning in her tone was apparent. Aeryn had reached the limit of her patience, but something perverse kept Anix pushing forward.
“I’m not going to my lessons while we’re still on this planet, and you can’t make me.”
She glared at Aeryn, waiting for the retaliation, the inevitable words of yes, I can make you. She saw D’Argo out of the corner of her eye, entering the room, thwaping Teyvn’s boots, waking up the soldier. The silence stretched out between mother and daughter, heavy and butter thick. Neither man said anything, unaware of what they’d just walked into.
“Fine,” Aeryn said.
“But,” Anix started to retort and then realized Aeryn wasn’t arguing.
“You’re right,” her mother continued, “I can’t physically force you to go to your lessons. I don’t have the manpower to exert on that and it’s simply not worth it. However, if you refuse to follow the schedule I’ve set, you will take duty shifts like all the other soldiers. There will be none of this random wandering around the palace or wasting time with Crichton.”
Aeryn stood up, looked at D’Argo and Teyvn. “I want her on the roster in an arn,” she ordered flatly and walked out.
“Aeryn,” D’Argo called out, but she kept walking. “Frelling Sebaceans,” he muttered as he jogged after her.
Anix looked at Teyvn, open-mouthed. Had she just won?
“You really know when to pick your battles, kid?” he said, sounding slightly disappointed and she wondered if it was disappointment in her.
***
“Aeryn,” D’Argo called out after her, knowing by her stride and the set of her shoulders that it was useless. He stopped in the passageway.
“Captain Sun,” he barked. “I am not going to chase you down this frelling hallway.”
Aeryn stopped, back ramrod straight. She didn’t turn around, but stood there and waited for him. It was all he could do to not shake her when he reached her. He hadn’t slept well, hadn’t slept much in the past few solar days, and he was growing weary of mediating between battling factions, especially the mother and daughter faction.
“She can serve on guard duty, she can haul cable or machinery, she can fix circuits,” she said before he’d even come around the front of her. “ But I want her on a duty shift, and I want her dead tired by the end of the day. She thinks I’m punishing her by forcing her to keep up in her lessons and her training,”
“Aeryn,” D’Argo interrupted her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We’ve all had a long weeken. Don’t take it out on your daughter.”
A mark on her neck caught his eye, and he pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow.
“Oh frell off , D’Argo.” she said, shaking off his hand.
“Aeryn, what were you thinking?” he asked, genuinely wondering. Sixteen cycles ago the currents of love and longing that had run between his two shipmates had been palpable, despite the ex-Peacekeeper’s fears and denials. But that had been a lifetime ago, and there were many other factors at work here. He’d seen the renewed glances, the softening towards each other, and he’d warned Aeryn. But she’d apparently chosen to disregard the advice.
“It was recreation,” she said, trying to meet his eye. “Release.”
He snorted, and wondered how he could back out of this conversation. Aeryn steadied herself and looked at him shrewdly. “Sixteen cycles of you and Chiana, and all that frelling drama, and not once did I question you.”
“Aeryn!” his voice practically squeaked in outrage. “You questioned me all the time. You threatened to shoot me if I didn’t at least make the effort to get over her.”
“Yes, well, you didn’t and I let it alone. What happens between John and I is our business.”
She looked at the ground and her voice softened ever so slightly. “It isn’t going to interfere in our finishing things here and leaving. We still need to try and convince the Empress to either serve as an ally, evacuate, or leave her to one of the warring factions.”
“We haven’t made any of those alternatives particularly appealing,” D’Argo said cynically.
Aeryn shrugged. “None of them are appealing. They are all about guaranteed to end in more death and destruction. At least if she joins with the rebellion, I can leave troops here with the blessings of the council.”
She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck, “Maybe they are right, maybe Be’Ann was right and we aren’t doing any good. Maybe we should have left them to the ravages of the Peacekeeper forces.”
D’Argo huffed out a breath, equally uncertain. “We had to come Aeryn.”
“No. We didn’t.” she responded. “ I let sentiment, memories of the past, influence me.”
“John would have died,” D’Argo said, “Many more civilian casualties would have occurred, this entire world could have been destroyed.”
She glared at him, “Yes, but what if Be’Ann really did call Scorpius? What if he still wants John, thinks he can still access wormhole knowledge from him. It would give the Peacekeepers an unbeatable advantage. We would be completely frelling useless, not even a jot on their radar.”
“It’s the risk we take Aeryn. You know that. And we can protect John. We’re no longer a band of fugitives without allies. We can at least keep Scorpius away from him.”
She closed her eyes. “He’s seeing flashes of Scorpius, D’Argo, and I don’t know what to think. It could be a neural chip, one of his frelling mind control devices. It’s probably primitive if it’s something that Scorpius did that long ago, but I’ve no idea if he really did something to John or if Crichton is just cracking up from the stress of having been frozen. That machine wasn’t designed for humans and we have no idea what kind of damage it did to his neural pathways.”
D’Argo pursed up his mouth, “Well, if it is some sort of control device, we can have a surgeon search for it and try to remove it.”
“With what? Most of their equipment has been destroyed. The royal physician is completely consumed with the Princess and the other healers are still dealing with those wounded or ill from the attack. Too many were hurt. We can’t spare their services to take John Crichton’s brain apart. And I’m not sure if he’d agree to it anyway. I told him that Scorpius could be on his way, and he seemed to just take it in stride. I know he’s still terrified, but something’s shifting in him.”
“He has other responsibilities now,” D’Argo said softly. “Katralla and the child, whomever is revived. You, and I, of all people, understand duty to someone that weighs out over duty to one’s self.”
Aeryn nodded curtly, cutting the conversation off and refocusing. “Yes, and speaking of which.”
D’Argo just shook his head, “Yes. She’ll be on duty within the arn. The messiest, most uncomfortable duty that she’s qualified for.”
“Thank you.”
He snorted. “Don’t thank me. She’s going to hate you after this. She wanted a fight and you just gave in.”
“Gave in to what,” asked Crichton, coming around the corner. “Mornin’ D. Captain.”
He tried to keep his expression neutral, but his eyes lingered on Aeryn for a moment. He bit his lower lip, and said, “Hey. You guys are up pretty early.”
Aeryn nodded, equally transfixed and pretending she wasn’t and D’Argo resisted the urge to bang their heads together.
“So,” he repeated, “What did you give in too?”
“Anix,” she said slowly. “She wanted to be useful, and so she shall.”
Crichton laughed a little at that, grinned at D’Argo. “Teenagers are teenagers in every species.”
He looked back at Aeryn, the grin still fixed but a little faded now and cocked his head. “She mad at you?”
“ She’s been fighting me about the lessons. And I finally agreed she didn’t have to continue them, but would take a shift with the other soldiers if she wanted it so badly.”
John laughed, “She’s gonna be hating life in about 8 arns. I’ve seen the work they do.”
Aeryn grimaced, “She’s getting too old to argue with. She’s always been willful, but this is something different. She’s joyous and then despondent, argumentative and then quick and helpful. It’s making me crazy,” she added in exasperation.
John moved a little closer to her, brushing his fingers gently against the sleeve of her shirt. “She’s growing up,” he said softly.
“Yes,” Aeryn frowned, “Peacekeepers aren’t like this. We weren’t allowed to be.”
She looked at D’Argo and shook her head. “The one thing I’ve wanted was for her to be prepared to do anything, to survive any situation, to not end up a Peacekeeper, and now that she’s not, I don’t have a frelling clue what to do with her,” she add in exasperation.
John wrapped his hand gently around her arm, a gesture of reassurance. “I think every parent goes through this, Aeryn.” He looked at D’Argo for confirmation. D’Argo, thinking about the disastrous relationship he’d had with his own adolescent son, just sighed deeply and agreed.
“Why are you awake this early?” Aeryn asked, abruptly changing the subject.
John let go of her, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked back and forth between the two of them, and then finally said with false brightness. “Made my decision and needed to talk to the doc. He said it will take a few solar days, but he should be able to redirect the systems and hopefully then Katralla will wake up.”
He swallowed heavily and D’Argo felt the sadness weighing on his friend. “And the child?” he asked. John shook his head. “99% sure they can’t save it. Katralla’s DNA and that screwy machine have pretty much frelled things up.”
He looked at Aeryn, couldn’t seem to not look at Aeryn in fact.
“I can’t make decisions about this place by myself,” he said, as if pleading his case. “And the Empress is blinded by all of this. She’s acting out of anger and fear and false notions, and I’m just not enough. Katralla was always doing things for the good of her people. She wanted to be Empress to serve them. Hell, she married me to serve her empire, to be able to offer it dynastic integrity and hopefully we’ll be able to follow through on that. And she’ll be able to serve them better than a baby would. I have no idea if it’s the right decision, but I think it is.”
He didn’t sound hopeful though, just uncertain. D’Argo clapped him on the shoulder, trying to offer some support, and John smiled morosely in thanks, but continued to watch Aeryn, waiting for her reaction. “
I’m sorry, John,” she said, her tone hushed. “I know how much that child meant to you.”
He nodded, and she reached out to him, her fingertips resting on his whitened knuckles. He turned his hand over, capturing her fingers. “Yeah,” he said, squeezing her hand tightly. “You probably have to go huh?”
Aeryn nodded.
“Ok.” He released her, and she walked past him, her stride slower and more hesitant.
“I really am sorry, my friend,” said D’Argo.
“Thanks D.” he said with a sigh, turning his head and watching Aeryn disappear around the corner. “Let’s get some breakfast.”
D’Argo grunted his agreemen, “And then I have to find a place for a 14 cycle old cadet where she won’t get maimed, injured or killed but will still be cursing her sires before the day is out.”
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no subject
Date: 2003-09-02 12:36 pm (UTC)D’Argo grunted his agreemen, “And then I have to find a place for a 14 cycle old cadet where she won’t get maimed, injured or killed but will still be cursing her sires before the day is out.”
Damn, T.—y'know this line just cries out for John to ask the obvious question: "So, who is the daddy, anyway?"
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Date: 2003-09-02 01:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-09-02 01:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-09-02 02:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-09-02 02:21 pm (UTC)Right now it's exposition heavy. It's too wordy, too repetitive, and I know that I've run over certain threads and cut them free without meaning to. But the goal was to get it out on paper, posting so that I was motivated, and then clean up the whole shebang.
no subject
Date: 2003-09-02 02:23 pm (UTC)This is a teriffic story
Date: 2003-09-02 03:35 pm (UTC)Maury
Re: This is a teriffic story
Date: 2003-09-02 04:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-09-02 06:05 pm (UTC)Poor John, faced with such a hard choice in his wife, whom he respects if doesn't love, and his child, who was the binding element between him and the Royal Planet.
You know, I don't think you've ever made the direct comparison between the shade of blue in Crichton's eyes and Anix's, so if her eyes are blue like Aeryn's, that smokier, grey-blue, then paternity could still be in doubt. I think she's John's daughter from AHR, but you've been very good in staying oblique.
The 'primitive' neural technology that they speculate about in John's head is a nice touch, too.
Ahem. I liked this section, is what I mean.
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Date: 2003-09-02 06:13 pm (UTC)I've found the timeline that I plotted out to be shifting into the one on the paper. I hadn't wanted to make a decision about Katralla this soon, but it just wrote itself in. And as far as the paternity goes, I'm trying to keep it oblique because I have something very specific planned for the ending:)
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Date: 2003-09-02 06:34 pm (UTC)As for Anix's paternity, maybe I'm a sucker and just coasting to disappointment, but if so many other things in this reality have mirrored the way things "really" meant, then wouldn't that mean that Anix *is* John's kid?
(I mean, I can see how she might not be, but the "mirroring" is going so well ... aw frell, I'm just askin' for trouble, aren't I?) ;)
no subject
Date: 2003-09-02 06:39 pm (UTC)