Blue Eyes - Chapter 29 B
Jan. 4th, 2004 11:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
itsallovernowDude, I somehow just outsmarted the computer. This is a little rough, and a lot wordy and I'm saying that there are two chapters and an epiloge left, which just amazes me, makes me want to cry a little actually.
Chapter 29 B
When the ship landed, settling down on the surface with a whoosh and a thump, they both sat there silent and stunned, looking at each other, looking through and past until finally Anix couldn’t stand it any more, and stood, hitting the release to the pod as she strode forward. The door opened, unfurling the stairs in a hiss of steam and she walked down them, not looking back.
Her boots echoed on the metallic steps, ringing so loudly in her ears that she felt herself wince with every footstep. D’Argo stood at the bottom of the steps, his familiar features somber, rich with sympathy and loss and pain, and she walked into his arms, tuning the rest of the universe out.
Time passed, and John must have exited at some point, but she didn’t see him leave, didn’t see if he went into the palace or went to wander in the desert. She just lost herself in D’Argo, shutting her eyes tightly against noise and thought and sensation, emptied her mind until she could push away and look at him, biting her bottom lip and struggling with her vocal chords which ached like they’d been cut. When her throat finally gave up some sound, she tried to make the words work, tried to figure out how to say to D’Argo, surrogate father, friend, champion and confidant the things she needed to say. This was her responsibility, her duty. That though did it, finally releasing the words.
"I think," she began to stutter, and then somehow found her composure, "that we need to find Chiana." The words sounded so odd, but so did her voice, scratchy and metras away. She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly cold, and D’Argo pulled her to him again, dwarfing her against his bulk.
"Oh Anix," he sighed, and then looked down at her. "I’m not going to lie to you. It will not be easy, but you will be cared for, I promise."
She couldn’t really nod, but it didn’t matter. He understood that she’d gone as far as she was able. That her bravery was spent.
"That’s what John said," she whispered. "He never told me it was going to be fine, but he said he’d take care of me."
D’Argo smiled sadly at her.
"And did he?"
She did nod then. " As well as he could, and," she hesitated, finding more shreds of sound and understanding as the words formed, "he took care of her, too. He did everything he could to protect us. It’s just that he couldn’t do very much."
D’Argo crushed her to his side and she rested her head against his ribs.
"How is Teyvn?" she asked after a few microts, anxiety fluttering in her stomach. All this time, all of these things, how could she have forgotten? It was all she’d clung to after Scorpius had marched her away, Teyvn lying in a broken heap, fallen protecting her.
D’Argo chuckled, a small forced sound, but the sentiment was genuiune. "On the road to recovery and doing his very best to cause trouble flat on his back. Would you like to see him?"
And she said yes.
When they’d first arrived, eons ago, to help the inhabitants of the planet, when Anix had finally been allowed on the ground and had walked through the palace, the destruction had been thorough but not devastating. This made her eyes prick with tears. All their wasted time and energy, all the wanton destruction from the strifing passes of the Scarran ships. The generator had been blown again, leaving the place cold and dark. The comms array worked, albeit sporadically, and the air was filled with dust and debris that swirled as they walked.
As they moved through the remains of the palace, their way lit by candles and oil lamps, she could hear Aeryn in her head, clear low voice giving orders, assigning troops, gently mocking the work in front of all of them, encouraging her people with soft irony and complete honesty.
"She’d be furious," Anix said to D’Argo.
He looked at her and took her hand in his. "She’d be swearing at the Scarrans in all the languages she’d learned over the cycles," he agreed.
The moment didn’t ease anything, but it didn’t feel like swallowing ground glass either. Aeryn was still fresh in their minds and memories, not ready to be banished in necessity and that was a relief.
D’Argo turned the corner to go down into the caverns and she stopped, feeling something dark and low and put a hand on his arm, needing to say this before seeing Teyvn, needing to say some things out loud.
"She tried to save everyone," she said, the words sounding harsh in the quiet of the ruined palace. "She always did."
There were tears on D’Argo’s cheeks, the fall of salt and water tracing over his tattoos, dripping onto his tankas.
"I loved her too, Anix," he said softly. He cupped her cheek in his palm. "I loved her and she was a dear friend, a fellow warrior. She put the lives of others first. It was what she needed to do. Her duty and obligation to this life."
"It was so easy for her," she bit out. "To say goodbye, to die a hero. It was so frelling easy."
But he shook his head and looked at her intently. "No. It was not. Maybe once, it would have been. But not now, and not like that. I promise that leaving you behind was the hardest thing she ever did."
Then why did she keep doing it? she wanted to scream, but D’Argo looked determined, full of sorrow and love and she just bit her lip again.
The underground community was in full swing as they made their way to a narrow room cut off from the passageway by a simple cloth curtain. D’Argo had said that Teyvn would probably move up to the surface the next solar day, but for now, it seemed pointless. Teyvn was stretched out on a low cot, pale and irritable, but his face brightened when Anix walked into the room. He held out his good arm and she darted over to him, embracing the soldier.
"I’m so, so glad you’re not dead," she mumbled into his shoulder, and he squeezed her to him.
"I can say the same thing about you, little one." His countenance grew more somber and he pushed her away slightly.
"I’m so sorry, Anix, I. Just so frellling sorry."
She looked at the sheet covering him, letting her fingers trace patterns in the fabric until her voice was once again under control.
"She did what was necessary, right?" the words somewhere between a question and a plea.
Teyvn nodded, glancing briefly at D’Argo for confirmation. The Luxan grunted.
"Still some Scarran activity, but this will change everything," he agreed.
"Did?" Again Teyvn looked at his Captain, hesitating. He put his hand on Anix’s head, cupping her skull. The gesture was so protective, so tender that it made her ache like the flu, made her want to run away from all of this soft caring. But she held fast, waited for the questions.
"Did they hurt you?" He choked on his hatred.
She started to shake her head, but these men were her family, had protected her for cycles, since birth. There was no point in lying to them, so she told the truth, letting it spill out like Askan ink. The harm, to her, to Aeryn and John, the bargains she knew of, and finally the odd truth that she couldn’t quite taste in her mouth.
"I’m a hybrid," she whispered. "Part human. Crichton’s my father." She shook her head, the words sounding so strange out loud, but starting to feel just a little bit right.
The two old soldiers exchanged yet another set of looks.
"It’s not much of a surprise, kushla," D’Argo finally said, gentle and quiet, tentative in the face of her words. Anix returned to the patterns in the thin sheet.
"Anix," D’Argo’s voice was close to her ear now, his hand resting on her other shoulder so that she was bracketed by him and Teyvn, "Aeryn was a Peacekeeper. You know that. And you know now that she was exiled for standing up for John."
She jerked her chin down, and smoothed the fabric with her fingertips, absorbing everything.
"They changed each other," D’Argo continued, gruffly, "They changed for each other, but there was still so much between them, Scorpius not the least of it. This place was safety, not just for John, but for all of us. He accepted the duty, the responsibility because he had to consider the lives of billions over the life of one Sebacean."
She didn’t have anything to say to that, the time with Scorpius, seeing the hatred, the hostility and fear and closed mindedness whispering to her that Aeryn had done the right thing by trying to keep them all, herself included, in ignorance. But it hurt still, burning and sharp. Finding out truth from your enemies hurt like salt in a wound and now she had to look at John as a father, not because she wanted to but because it was a truth forced upon her. Her surviving parent, and yet none of her real family lived on this miserable planet and it was just a lot to take here in this room while she had to push down her grief and her terror at being alone. She wanted Aeryn very badly, her cool fingers on her neck, lips on her cheek, her mother’s calm and ferocity and certainty and absolute pure self.
D’Argo still apparently had something to say, like it was going to make a difference. "If it helps, and it helped her, knowing this about her own parents, I think she loved him."
The tears blinded her now, thick and hot and unstoppable, and she was so sick of crying like a mewling infant but they were a force in themselves. She tried to choke them down but couldn’t, and pressed her face into the sheet, smothering her sobs.
***
Every step was agony, head pounding, stomach twisting, grief tearing at his eyes and mouth. If there’d been anything left to break in this wreck of a building he’d have gone on a bender of destruction, the need to rend and throw and wail so strong, despite the fatigue. But even if there’d been ceramic and wood and paper to destroy, the things hanging over his head – Scarrans in the air, duties to answer, the silence of the dead wrapping him like musty velvet- had to take precedence over the possible pleasure of wanton violence against inanimate objects.
So instead he tried to wrap his mind around his new responsibilities, while trying to ignore the stab of irrational jealousy that Anix had gone to D’Argo to mourn. He needed to find his wife and discuss what had to happen next. Shadows flickered on the walls from the light of the oil lamps, giving the rooms a haunted, old-fashioned feeling that reminded John of Earth’s past. The juxtaposition was jarring, the sense of old castles, of log houses while around him rained palace coups and godlike aliens and lizards flying ships among the stars.
Katralla sat reading over a scattered set of documents in the small section of the common area that was fit for existence. Her eyes narrowed from the strain of squinting against the thin light and she looked tired, haggard and young, as she murmured to Tyno and rubbed her eyes. Novia was nowhere to be seen and he almost hated to interrupt, afraid of what he would say, of what needed to be said, but she looked up as he hesitated in the doorway and did what she’d been doing for the past sixteen cycles. She brought him home with kindness and clarity, rising from the table, her steps still slow and measured, holding out her hand to him.
He looked down at her small hand, barely larger than his daughter’s and the word rang in his head. He clasped her hand, and pulled her towards him, or maybe it was the other way round, but he found himself in the fierce embrace of this small, determined princess, his wife and friend and mother to their child, lost to this war. He closed his eyes and held her tightly.
The three of them sat at the table, waiting for D’Argo, sipping tepid raslak and brackish water and John was grateful for both. He wanted to know where the Empress was, hell he wanted to know where Anix was even more, but found he didn’t have the energy to ask. Tyno finally broke the silence.
"We need to plan," he offered, stating the obvious but John and Katralla both nodded anyway.
"I think," John started, his voice raw and hoarse, unsure, "that if we can take care of the remaining Scarrans, we can count on a little peace from the Peacekeepers." Harvey grimaced at the pun, but he ignored the clone, wishing he could ignore him into disappearing. "It may be temporary, but I think it’s real."
It should be, he thought, we paid enough for it and Harvey nodded shrewdly, the reassurance a weird comfort.
"I’m sorry," Tyno said carefully, watching John intently in the candlelight. "Her sacrifice means more than we will ever be able to say."
Katralla covered John’s hand with her own and her forced a pallid smile. "How you feelin’?" he asked, veering off this track, unable to say anything kind to Tyno’s sentiment and sympathy. Katralla raised an eyebrow, the expression delicate instead of arch on her small features and he pulled his hand away to take a drink of the raslak.
"We need to decide where to start," she said, reiterating the earlier point.
"We’ll start with the generator," D’Argo announced, striding into the room, Anix following him closely. "And this time, I’m enclosing it in something that’s impossible to destroy."
The arguments and debates sounded tired to him, and he wondered why they kept talking about the same thing, until he finally realized that he had no business arguing, that he was simply reluctant to accept what needed to be done.
"You’re a hero to our people," Katralla said flatly. "You were here, working with the rebel soldiers while I slept." He didn’t bother to correct the phrasing. "You are this fight to them."
It was late and tempers were as raw as his body. Anix had fallen asleep arns ago, sandwiched between John and D’Argo, unwilling to take herself to bed. Her head lolled to one side or another, resting against whomever was in her path.
"If the Scarrans think I did this, if they think they can get wormholes from me, then this place is toast," he stated wearily.
"And Scorpius offered protection as long as you stay here where he can find you," Tyno countered.
"Better the devil you know, huh?" John said bitterly and Tyno shrugged.
They would depose the Empress. Katralla would take the throne with John as her consort, insuring a line of succession and representing a new regime, rallying the people who saw him as one of them, someone willing to fight for them, despite his humanity. It sounded fine on paper, if you ignored the grieving daughter, the war, the Scarran threat, the planet in desperate need of rebuilding and the gnawing ache of loss in his gut.
John looked at D’Argo. "What do you think, big guy?"
D’Argo shook his head, looking annoyed but resigned. "The Royal Planet is now part of this war, not simply a victim of it. Rumors will spread. We can be your allies and circumstances may offer you some measure of safety from the Peacekeepers. The Scarrans may be more interested in this new weapon than in following old rumors about John Crichton. We have to decide which risks are worth taking. I, we can leave some soldiers here to rebuild if you make a tentative alliance with us, and I’ll leave some regardless, but as soon as we have accounted for all of our pilots, most of us must leave. We’re desperately needed elsewhere, and without Aeryn," he paused again and John ignored the twist of pain, "She made her sacrifice freely, but she will be missed by the rebellion. She was a symbol of this fight, an ex-Peacekeeper who found another way, who refused to live in oppression."
He smiled slightly at John who nodded. Reputation and reality were fluid, and he was more than happy to have the universe see Aeryn like that, noble and fearless. They didn’t need to know the Peacekeeper who’d followed her conscience, spoken up without thinking – possibly the first time she’d ever done such a thing – and got trapped by circumstance.
"It’s a nice rally speech D," he said, the sarcasm escaping just a little.
"The universe doesn’t stop for the death of one Sebacean," D’Argo sighed and John looked away, catching the sympathy on Katralla’s face. It was too strange, the understanding of his wife blanketing him while he mourned his lover. Her kindness and compassion would help them build a life together, rebuild this kingdom, try and keep it safe. It was a good future, full of resonance and purpose, but right now it felt so hollow.
The warmth that had seeped into his shoulder was suddenly gone, and he looked down to see Anix rubbing her swollen eyes.
"What was decided?" she asked thickly.
"How’d you like to live on a planet again, kid?" John asked, his decision suddenly made in the sleepy, blinking eyes of his child.
Katralla said goodnight to them in the hallway, giving John a speculative look before returning to the relative safety of the underground community. Then she smiled at Anix sadly and brushed gentle fingers over her shoulder before leaving them alone.
"She’s grieving," Tyno offered quietly, his gaze following her.
"She didn’t have the option of saving her child."
John could have pounded into him for that, fists and break of bone, but he understood too well to summon up that much violence.
"We didn’t have the option of saving the baby," he said coldly. "We needed her too much."
He felt that loss in it’s own place, small and chilled, and almost wanted to grin as Harvey threw up his hands in disgust, muttering "women and children." Wormholes and equations were pushed away, vibrating and pulsing in a corner of his mind, but they could wait now. Without the throbbing insistence of the chip, of necessity, he could feel them resting, lying in wait, but no longer overwhelming him. There would be other children he hoped, cradled in the arms of their dark haired mother.
He shook his head, pictured Katralla and a girl with golden curls, kept that image, not letting it slide into Aeryn, grey-eyed and serious as she looked at a blue eyed infant. He’d lost a daughter to gain one and it bit, stung more than he expected. Trades and choices and whispered bargains and he was very, very tired of all of this and he turned away from Tyno and walked back into the remains of the quarters.
Amazingly enough, those rooms were only moderately damaged, remaining more or less inhabitable.
"You want some company?" he asked as they stood in front of Anix’s door. She shook her head, and he wondered if it was a front, a show of bravery, but this had to be her decision. He hated the thought of her being alone though, in that room, in this universe.
"We’re gonna round up that doctor in the morning," he said, "have him take a look at you."
She shrugged, the gesture half-hearted. He touched her cheek, wanting to draw her closer, but afraid to find her stiff and unyielding.
"Did you mean it?" she asked softly, not looking at him. "About staying here."
"Yeah. If it’s what you want. I’d like to have you here."
She bit her lower lip. "You could go with us," she said in a rush. "Join the rebellion." But she didn’t sound hopeful.
"Still want to be a soldier?" It wasn’t really a question and she didn’t bother to answer.
"Your mom, she wanted you safe, happy," he said, " And educated. Don’t know what arrangements have been made, but I’ll do my damndest to help with all of those things."
She looked thoughtful and then said goodnight, leaving him standing alone in the hallway.
***
Staying on the planet, the Peacekeeper ship still hanging in the system, the threat of random Scarran attacks from stragglers to dumb or too loyal to return to their leaders, the uneasiness in the murmurs of the planets remaining inhabitants, - all of this was conspiring to make D’Argo very nervous, and very cranky.
John and Anix had been back for two solar days, both still shell shocked, alternately quiet and defiant and if D’Argo had never really acknowledged any of John Crichton’s traits in his godchild before, he was seeing them come to the front now as she struggled with both her grief and her identity.
There were still Prowlers unaccounted for, but soon they’d have to cut their losses and deploy. However, things were too unstable to leave just yet. He’d sent a coded message to the loose group of leaders, hoping they weren’t causing more damage by default in the need to stay here and have some closure with this planet’s activities.
The generator had been blown to bits, had to rebuilt practical from scratch and he took his fury out on the techs, who didn’t deserve it and on Tyno who had disappeared into himself as Katralla grew healthier. She’d been surpressed and ordered about and cowed by everyone for the good of her people, but the young woman had thrown all of that aside and was proving to have a strong will and a clear head. And she’d yet to throw anything at either himself or John Crichton, so patience was obviously a virtue of hers as well.
Novia had proved to be beyond help. Angry, raving at all of them for betraying her, betraying the people, desperate to believe that the kingdom she had ruled still existed, she refused to see the change, the destruction that existed around her. Katralla had finally ordered the physician to sedate her, and as soon as they had light and power again, there would be a ceremony transferring power officially to her and John.
Crichton seemed indifferent. In public, if asked, he could rally enthusiasm and passion for the people, supporting the choices they were all making. There was no talk of wormholes or weapons, but instead vague talk of the hope for the future. He sounded like a politician, but he was merely mouthing the words.
The people looked at him as some sort of folk hero, even when they could only understand half of what he was saying, and they saw Aeryn in the same way. For every Sebacean colonist who thought they should ally themselves with the Peacekeeper might, there were two who remained loyal to the memory of Captain Sun and the efforts of the rebellion and John Crichton on their behalf. Loyalty to their crowned ruler seemed of little importance, but D’Argo didn’t care. If they’d follow John, they’d follow Katralla. He just wanted to get his soldiers off of this planet, find Chiana, deliver Anix into some sort of safety and maybe take a day for himself, lose himself in alcohol or Chi if she’d let him, or simply sleep for more than four arns at a time. He didn’t really care which option presented itself. He was so tired of losing people he cared about to this war, and he tried to ignore the tiny voice that said he was about to leave yet another loved one behind.
He sat at a makeshift desk, the remains of the former office, waiting here at the end of this day for Sen’s transmissions. Teyvn had recovered enough to try some exercises and he and John were bitching at each other over a rough practice mat, strutting and fretting until patience or strength gave out and then they would come to find him for a drink and a breakdown of the day’s casualties.
When Anix knocked on the door and came in, looking intent and nervous, he both dreaded and welcomed the interruption. She didn’t quaver or hesitate, but said flat out, " I want to stay here."
He raised an eyebrow, trying not to express any other reaction. She clearly needed to do this in her own way.
"Why?"
"Crichton," she answered, looking down. "And Katralla. I want to help with all of this," she swept her arm around, encompassing the sum total. "I don’t want to start over again, have Chi find me some refuge in the middle of nowhere, alone."
"You wouldn’t be alone," he countered.
"I wouldn’t know anyone, either."
"You could stay with me," he said, but that was so filled with impossibility.
She smiled then, wide and bright, a sight he hadn’t seen in so long, that smile that just radiated her parentage. Aeryn’s smile.
"I still want to be a soldier," she said gently, as if offering him a promise. "But I think I’d like to grow up a little more first." She squared her shoulders. "I’m not a Peacekeeper, and there are things I want to learn, about John, and about science." She set her jaw. "About my mother."
He looked at her, knowing his answer, but finding it so hard to give his permission or his consent, and yet knowing it was inevitable. "All right," he answered at last.
"All right I can stay?"
He got up then, reached out to her and hugged her thin shoulders. "It’s your choice Anix, your life. But I think Aeryn would have approved." Right after kicking my ass, he thought, for leaving her daughter on a planet with a wanted criminal and an unstable political situation. But the criminal was his friend and Anix’s father, and there weren’t that many stable places left in the universe anyway, so he prayed to the Luxan gods that he was doing the right thing.
Anix wiggled away. " I’m going to go see if Crichton and Teyvn have killed each other yet," she said with a small grin.
She was halfway out the door when the transmission from Sen came through. The woman’s voice sounded breathless and stunned.
"Captain, sir, I think you need to go to the hangar. There’s a ship docking. We’re following it in."
He closed his eyes, unwilling to confront another angry or bewildered Scarran. "Is it urgent?"
She hesitated, which was unheard of from Sen. "I think you’ll want to be there," she replied enigmatically. Anix widened her eyes, and he glared at her, saying "No" roughly, but he knew he couldn’t stop her from following him, and they made their way together to meet this next crisis.
Chapter 29 B
When the ship landed, settling down on the surface with a whoosh and a thump, they both sat there silent and stunned, looking at each other, looking through and past until finally Anix couldn’t stand it any more, and stood, hitting the release to the pod as she strode forward. The door opened, unfurling the stairs in a hiss of steam and she walked down them, not looking back.
Her boots echoed on the metallic steps, ringing so loudly in her ears that she felt herself wince with every footstep. D’Argo stood at the bottom of the steps, his familiar features somber, rich with sympathy and loss and pain, and she walked into his arms, tuning the rest of the universe out.
Time passed, and John must have exited at some point, but she didn’t see him leave, didn’t see if he went into the palace or went to wander in the desert. She just lost herself in D’Argo, shutting her eyes tightly against noise and thought and sensation, emptied her mind until she could push away and look at him, biting her bottom lip and struggling with her vocal chords which ached like they’d been cut. When her throat finally gave up some sound, she tried to make the words work, tried to figure out how to say to D’Argo, surrogate father, friend, champion and confidant the things she needed to say. This was her responsibility, her duty. That though did it, finally releasing the words.
"I think," she began to stutter, and then somehow found her composure, "that we need to find Chiana." The words sounded so odd, but so did her voice, scratchy and metras away. She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly cold, and D’Argo pulled her to him again, dwarfing her against his bulk.
"Oh Anix," he sighed, and then looked down at her. "I’m not going to lie to you. It will not be easy, but you will be cared for, I promise."
She couldn’t really nod, but it didn’t matter. He understood that she’d gone as far as she was able. That her bravery was spent.
"That’s what John said," she whispered. "He never told me it was going to be fine, but he said he’d take care of me."
D’Argo smiled sadly at her.
"And did he?"
She did nod then. " As well as he could, and," she hesitated, finding more shreds of sound and understanding as the words formed, "he took care of her, too. He did everything he could to protect us. It’s just that he couldn’t do very much."
D’Argo crushed her to his side and she rested her head against his ribs.
"How is Teyvn?" she asked after a few microts, anxiety fluttering in her stomach. All this time, all of these things, how could she have forgotten? It was all she’d clung to after Scorpius had marched her away, Teyvn lying in a broken heap, fallen protecting her.
D’Argo chuckled, a small forced sound, but the sentiment was genuiune. "On the road to recovery and doing his very best to cause trouble flat on his back. Would you like to see him?"
And she said yes.
When they’d first arrived, eons ago, to help the inhabitants of the planet, when Anix had finally been allowed on the ground and had walked through the palace, the destruction had been thorough but not devastating. This made her eyes prick with tears. All their wasted time and energy, all the wanton destruction from the strifing passes of the Scarran ships. The generator had been blown again, leaving the place cold and dark. The comms array worked, albeit sporadically, and the air was filled with dust and debris that swirled as they walked.
As they moved through the remains of the palace, their way lit by candles and oil lamps, she could hear Aeryn in her head, clear low voice giving orders, assigning troops, gently mocking the work in front of all of them, encouraging her people with soft irony and complete honesty.
"She’d be furious," Anix said to D’Argo.
He looked at her and took her hand in his. "She’d be swearing at the Scarrans in all the languages she’d learned over the cycles," he agreed.
The moment didn’t ease anything, but it didn’t feel like swallowing ground glass either. Aeryn was still fresh in their minds and memories, not ready to be banished in necessity and that was a relief.
D’Argo turned the corner to go down into the caverns and she stopped, feeling something dark and low and put a hand on his arm, needing to say this before seeing Teyvn, needing to say some things out loud.
"She tried to save everyone," she said, the words sounding harsh in the quiet of the ruined palace. "She always did."
There were tears on D’Argo’s cheeks, the fall of salt and water tracing over his tattoos, dripping onto his tankas.
"I loved her too, Anix," he said softly. He cupped her cheek in his palm. "I loved her and she was a dear friend, a fellow warrior. She put the lives of others first. It was what she needed to do. Her duty and obligation to this life."
"It was so easy for her," she bit out. "To say goodbye, to die a hero. It was so frelling easy."
But he shook his head and looked at her intently. "No. It was not. Maybe once, it would have been. But not now, and not like that. I promise that leaving you behind was the hardest thing she ever did."
Then why did she keep doing it? she wanted to scream, but D’Argo looked determined, full of sorrow and love and she just bit her lip again.
The underground community was in full swing as they made their way to a narrow room cut off from the passageway by a simple cloth curtain. D’Argo had said that Teyvn would probably move up to the surface the next solar day, but for now, it seemed pointless. Teyvn was stretched out on a low cot, pale and irritable, but his face brightened when Anix walked into the room. He held out his good arm and she darted over to him, embracing the soldier.
"I’m so, so glad you’re not dead," she mumbled into his shoulder, and he squeezed her to him.
"I can say the same thing about you, little one." His countenance grew more somber and he pushed her away slightly.
"I’m so sorry, Anix, I. Just so frellling sorry."
She looked at the sheet covering him, letting her fingers trace patterns in the fabric until her voice was once again under control.
"She did what was necessary, right?" the words somewhere between a question and a plea.
Teyvn nodded, glancing briefly at D’Argo for confirmation. The Luxan grunted.
"Still some Scarran activity, but this will change everything," he agreed.
"Did?" Again Teyvn looked at his Captain, hesitating. He put his hand on Anix’s head, cupping her skull. The gesture was so protective, so tender that it made her ache like the flu, made her want to run away from all of this soft caring. But she held fast, waited for the questions.
"Did they hurt you?" He choked on his hatred.
She started to shake her head, but these men were her family, had protected her for cycles, since birth. There was no point in lying to them, so she told the truth, letting it spill out like Askan ink. The harm, to her, to Aeryn and John, the bargains she knew of, and finally the odd truth that she couldn’t quite taste in her mouth.
"I’m a hybrid," she whispered. "Part human. Crichton’s my father." She shook her head, the words sounding so strange out loud, but starting to feel just a little bit right.
The two old soldiers exchanged yet another set of looks.
"It’s not much of a surprise, kushla," D’Argo finally said, gentle and quiet, tentative in the face of her words. Anix returned to the patterns in the thin sheet.
"Anix," D’Argo’s voice was close to her ear now, his hand resting on her other shoulder so that she was bracketed by him and Teyvn, "Aeryn was a Peacekeeper. You know that. And you know now that she was exiled for standing up for John."
She jerked her chin down, and smoothed the fabric with her fingertips, absorbing everything.
"They changed each other," D’Argo continued, gruffly, "They changed for each other, but there was still so much between them, Scorpius not the least of it. This place was safety, not just for John, but for all of us. He accepted the duty, the responsibility because he had to consider the lives of billions over the life of one Sebacean."
She didn’t have anything to say to that, the time with Scorpius, seeing the hatred, the hostility and fear and closed mindedness whispering to her that Aeryn had done the right thing by trying to keep them all, herself included, in ignorance. But it hurt still, burning and sharp. Finding out truth from your enemies hurt like salt in a wound and now she had to look at John as a father, not because she wanted to but because it was a truth forced upon her. Her surviving parent, and yet none of her real family lived on this miserable planet and it was just a lot to take here in this room while she had to push down her grief and her terror at being alone. She wanted Aeryn very badly, her cool fingers on her neck, lips on her cheek, her mother’s calm and ferocity and certainty and absolute pure self.
D’Argo still apparently had something to say, like it was going to make a difference. "If it helps, and it helped her, knowing this about her own parents, I think she loved him."
The tears blinded her now, thick and hot and unstoppable, and she was so sick of crying like a mewling infant but they were a force in themselves. She tried to choke them down but couldn’t, and pressed her face into the sheet, smothering her sobs.
***
Every step was agony, head pounding, stomach twisting, grief tearing at his eyes and mouth. If there’d been anything left to break in this wreck of a building he’d have gone on a bender of destruction, the need to rend and throw and wail so strong, despite the fatigue. But even if there’d been ceramic and wood and paper to destroy, the things hanging over his head – Scarrans in the air, duties to answer, the silence of the dead wrapping him like musty velvet- had to take precedence over the possible pleasure of wanton violence against inanimate objects.
So instead he tried to wrap his mind around his new responsibilities, while trying to ignore the stab of irrational jealousy that Anix had gone to D’Argo to mourn. He needed to find his wife and discuss what had to happen next. Shadows flickered on the walls from the light of the oil lamps, giving the rooms a haunted, old-fashioned feeling that reminded John of Earth’s past. The juxtaposition was jarring, the sense of old castles, of log houses while around him rained palace coups and godlike aliens and lizards flying ships among the stars.
Katralla sat reading over a scattered set of documents in the small section of the common area that was fit for existence. Her eyes narrowed from the strain of squinting against the thin light and she looked tired, haggard and young, as she murmured to Tyno and rubbed her eyes. Novia was nowhere to be seen and he almost hated to interrupt, afraid of what he would say, of what needed to be said, but she looked up as he hesitated in the doorway and did what she’d been doing for the past sixteen cycles. She brought him home with kindness and clarity, rising from the table, her steps still slow and measured, holding out her hand to him.
He looked down at her small hand, barely larger than his daughter’s and the word rang in his head. He clasped her hand, and pulled her towards him, or maybe it was the other way round, but he found himself in the fierce embrace of this small, determined princess, his wife and friend and mother to their child, lost to this war. He closed his eyes and held her tightly.
The three of them sat at the table, waiting for D’Argo, sipping tepid raslak and brackish water and John was grateful for both. He wanted to know where the Empress was, hell he wanted to know where Anix was even more, but found he didn’t have the energy to ask. Tyno finally broke the silence.
"We need to plan," he offered, stating the obvious but John and Katralla both nodded anyway.
"I think," John started, his voice raw and hoarse, unsure, "that if we can take care of the remaining Scarrans, we can count on a little peace from the Peacekeepers." Harvey grimaced at the pun, but he ignored the clone, wishing he could ignore him into disappearing. "It may be temporary, but I think it’s real."
It should be, he thought, we paid enough for it and Harvey nodded shrewdly, the reassurance a weird comfort.
"I’m sorry," Tyno said carefully, watching John intently in the candlelight. "Her sacrifice means more than we will ever be able to say."
Katralla covered John’s hand with her own and her forced a pallid smile. "How you feelin’?" he asked, veering off this track, unable to say anything kind to Tyno’s sentiment and sympathy. Katralla raised an eyebrow, the expression delicate instead of arch on her small features and he pulled his hand away to take a drink of the raslak.
"We need to decide where to start," she said, reiterating the earlier point.
"We’ll start with the generator," D’Argo announced, striding into the room, Anix following him closely. "And this time, I’m enclosing it in something that’s impossible to destroy."
The arguments and debates sounded tired to him, and he wondered why they kept talking about the same thing, until he finally realized that he had no business arguing, that he was simply reluctant to accept what needed to be done.
"You’re a hero to our people," Katralla said flatly. "You were here, working with the rebel soldiers while I slept." He didn’t bother to correct the phrasing. "You are this fight to them."
It was late and tempers were as raw as his body. Anix had fallen asleep arns ago, sandwiched between John and D’Argo, unwilling to take herself to bed. Her head lolled to one side or another, resting against whomever was in her path.
"If the Scarrans think I did this, if they think they can get wormholes from me, then this place is toast," he stated wearily.
"And Scorpius offered protection as long as you stay here where he can find you," Tyno countered.
"Better the devil you know, huh?" John said bitterly and Tyno shrugged.
They would depose the Empress. Katralla would take the throne with John as her consort, insuring a line of succession and representing a new regime, rallying the people who saw him as one of them, someone willing to fight for them, despite his humanity. It sounded fine on paper, if you ignored the grieving daughter, the war, the Scarran threat, the planet in desperate need of rebuilding and the gnawing ache of loss in his gut.
John looked at D’Argo. "What do you think, big guy?"
D’Argo shook his head, looking annoyed but resigned. "The Royal Planet is now part of this war, not simply a victim of it. Rumors will spread. We can be your allies and circumstances may offer you some measure of safety from the Peacekeepers. The Scarrans may be more interested in this new weapon than in following old rumors about John Crichton. We have to decide which risks are worth taking. I, we can leave some soldiers here to rebuild if you make a tentative alliance with us, and I’ll leave some regardless, but as soon as we have accounted for all of our pilots, most of us must leave. We’re desperately needed elsewhere, and without Aeryn," he paused again and John ignored the twist of pain, "She made her sacrifice freely, but she will be missed by the rebellion. She was a symbol of this fight, an ex-Peacekeeper who found another way, who refused to live in oppression."
He smiled slightly at John who nodded. Reputation and reality were fluid, and he was more than happy to have the universe see Aeryn like that, noble and fearless. They didn’t need to know the Peacekeeper who’d followed her conscience, spoken up without thinking – possibly the first time she’d ever done such a thing – and got trapped by circumstance.
"It’s a nice rally speech D," he said, the sarcasm escaping just a little.
"The universe doesn’t stop for the death of one Sebacean," D’Argo sighed and John looked away, catching the sympathy on Katralla’s face. It was too strange, the understanding of his wife blanketing him while he mourned his lover. Her kindness and compassion would help them build a life together, rebuild this kingdom, try and keep it safe. It was a good future, full of resonance and purpose, but right now it felt so hollow.
The warmth that had seeped into his shoulder was suddenly gone, and he looked down to see Anix rubbing her swollen eyes.
"What was decided?" she asked thickly.
"How’d you like to live on a planet again, kid?" John asked, his decision suddenly made in the sleepy, blinking eyes of his child.
Katralla said goodnight to them in the hallway, giving John a speculative look before returning to the relative safety of the underground community. Then she smiled at Anix sadly and brushed gentle fingers over her shoulder before leaving them alone.
"She’s grieving," Tyno offered quietly, his gaze following her.
"She didn’t have the option of saving her child."
John could have pounded into him for that, fists and break of bone, but he understood too well to summon up that much violence.
"We didn’t have the option of saving the baby," he said coldly. "We needed her too much."
He felt that loss in it’s own place, small and chilled, and almost wanted to grin as Harvey threw up his hands in disgust, muttering "women and children." Wormholes and equations were pushed away, vibrating and pulsing in a corner of his mind, but they could wait now. Without the throbbing insistence of the chip, of necessity, he could feel them resting, lying in wait, but no longer overwhelming him. There would be other children he hoped, cradled in the arms of their dark haired mother.
He shook his head, pictured Katralla and a girl with golden curls, kept that image, not letting it slide into Aeryn, grey-eyed and serious as she looked at a blue eyed infant. He’d lost a daughter to gain one and it bit, stung more than he expected. Trades and choices and whispered bargains and he was very, very tired of all of this and he turned away from Tyno and walked back into the remains of the quarters.
Amazingly enough, those rooms were only moderately damaged, remaining more or less inhabitable.
"You want some company?" he asked as they stood in front of Anix’s door. She shook her head, and he wondered if it was a front, a show of bravery, but this had to be her decision. He hated the thought of her being alone though, in that room, in this universe.
"We’re gonna round up that doctor in the morning," he said, "have him take a look at you."
She shrugged, the gesture half-hearted. He touched her cheek, wanting to draw her closer, but afraid to find her stiff and unyielding.
"Did you mean it?" she asked softly, not looking at him. "About staying here."
"Yeah. If it’s what you want. I’d like to have you here."
She bit her lower lip. "You could go with us," she said in a rush. "Join the rebellion." But she didn’t sound hopeful.
"Still want to be a soldier?" It wasn’t really a question and she didn’t bother to answer.
"Your mom, she wanted you safe, happy," he said, " And educated. Don’t know what arrangements have been made, but I’ll do my damndest to help with all of those things."
She looked thoughtful and then said goodnight, leaving him standing alone in the hallway.
***
Staying on the planet, the Peacekeeper ship still hanging in the system, the threat of random Scarran attacks from stragglers to dumb or too loyal to return to their leaders, the uneasiness in the murmurs of the planets remaining inhabitants, - all of this was conspiring to make D’Argo very nervous, and very cranky.
John and Anix had been back for two solar days, both still shell shocked, alternately quiet and defiant and if D’Argo had never really acknowledged any of John Crichton’s traits in his godchild before, he was seeing them come to the front now as she struggled with both her grief and her identity.
There were still Prowlers unaccounted for, but soon they’d have to cut their losses and deploy. However, things were too unstable to leave just yet. He’d sent a coded message to the loose group of leaders, hoping they weren’t causing more damage by default in the need to stay here and have some closure with this planet’s activities.
The generator had been blown to bits, had to rebuilt practical from scratch and he took his fury out on the techs, who didn’t deserve it and on Tyno who had disappeared into himself as Katralla grew healthier. She’d been surpressed and ordered about and cowed by everyone for the good of her people, but the young woman had thrown all of that aside and was proving to have a strong will and a clear head. And she’d yet to throw anything at either himself or John Crichton, so patience was obviously a virtue of hers as well.
Novia had proved to be beyond help. Angry, raving at all of them for betraying her, betraying the people, desperate to believe that the kingdom she had ruled still existed, she refused to see the change, the destruction that existed around her. Katralla had finally ordered the physician to sedate her, and as soon as they had light and power again, there would be a ceremony transferring power officially to her and John.
Crichton seemed indifferent. In public, if asked, he could rally enthusiasm and passion for the people, supporting the choices they were all making. There was no talk of wormholes or weapons, but instead vague talk of the hope for the future. He sounded like a politician, but he was merely mouthing the words.
The people looked at him as some sort of folk hero, even when they could only understand half of what he was saying, and they saw Aeryn in the same way. For every Sebacean colonist who thought they should ally themselves with the Peacekeeper might, there were two who remained loyal to the memory of Captain Sun and the efforts of the rebellion and John Crichton on their behalf. Loyalty to their crowned ruler seemed of little importance, but D’Argo didn’t care. If they’d follow John, they’d follow Katralla. He just wanted to get his soldiers off of this planet, find Chiana, deliver Anix into some sort of safety and maybe take a day for himself, lose himself in alcohol or Chi if she’d let him, or simply sleep for more than four arns at a time. He didn’t really care which option presented itself. He was so tired of losing people he cared about to this war, and he tried to ignore the tiny voice that said he was about to leave yet another loved one behind.
He sat at a makeshift desk, the remains of the former office, waiting here at the end of this day for Sen’s transmissions. Teyvn had recovered enough to try some exercises and he and John were bitching at each other over a rough practice mat, strutting and fretting until patience or strength gave out and then they would come to find him for a drink and a breakdown of the day’s casualties.
When Anix knocked on the door and came in, looking intent and nervous, he both dreaded and welcomed the interruption. She didn’t quaver or hesitate, but said flat out, " I want to stay here."
He raised an eyebrow, trying not to express any other reaction. She clearly needed to do this in her own way.
"Why?"
"Crichton," she answered, looking down. "And Katralla. I want to help with all of this," she swept her arm around, encompassing the sum total. "I don’t want to start over again, have Chi find me some refuge in the middle of nowhere, alone."
"You wouldn’t be alone," he countered.
"I wouldn’t know anyone, either."
"You could stay with me," he said, but that was so filled with impossibility.
She smiled then, wide and bright, a sight he hadn’t seen in so long, that smile that just radiated her parentage. Aeryn’s smile.
"I still want to be a soldier," she said gently, as if offering him a promise. "But I think I’d like to grow up a little more first." She squared her shoulders. "I’m not a Peacekeeper, and there are things I want to learn, about John, and about science." She set her jaw. "About my mother."
He looked at her, knowing his answer, but finding it so hard to give his permission or his consent, and yet knowing it was inevitable. "All right," he answered at last.
"All right I can stay?"
He got up then, reached out to her and hugged her thin shoulders. "It’s your choice Anix, your life. But I think Aeryn would have approved." Right after kicking my ass, he thought, for leaving her daughter on a planet with a wanted criminal and an unstable political situation. But the criminal was his friend and Anix’s father, and there weren’t that many stable places left in the universe anyway, so he prayed to the Luxan gods that he was doing the right thing.
Anix wiggled away. " I’m going to go see if Crichton and Teyvn have killed each other yet," she said with a small grin.
She was halfway out the door when the transmission from Sen came through. The woman’s voice sounded breathless and stunned.
"Captain, sir, I think you need to go to the hangar. There’s a ship docking. We’re following it in."
He closed his eyes, unwilling to confront another angry or bewildered Scarran. "Is it urgent?"
She hesitated, which was unheard of from Sen. "I think you’ll want to be there," she replied enigmatically. Anix widened her eyes, and he glared at her, saying "No" roughly, but he knew he couldn’t stop her from following him, and they made their way together to meet this next crisis.
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Date: 2004-01-05 08:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 10:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 12:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 12:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 08:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 09:06 am (UTC)I'm with Cranky...
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Date: 2004-01-05 10:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 10:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 11:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 12:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 03:04 pm (UTC)Grrrrr, cliffhanger.
but...*happy sigh* It's good to read more of the story.
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Date: 2004-01-05 03:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 04:17 pm (UTC)Scorpius's protection in exchange for John staying within reach. Makes me shiver.
The ship - if it's Aeryn, will she go and take Anix? Will John stay with the people who've accepted him as their own?
And if it's not Aeryn? Hmmmm.
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Date: 2004-01-05 05:07 pm (UTC)And thank you so much for the kind words! Your support has completely bolstered me during this project.
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Date: 2004-01-05 06:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-06 10:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 09:34 pm (UTC)Oh man...
There were too many other parts that I really loved to quote here. It'd take up way too much space. Just know that the progression from Anix, to John, to D'Argo...was wonderful.
And the end!! GAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH. I'm on to read the next chapter.
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Date: 2004-01-06 10:26 am (UTC)