FIC: Farscape, Disruption 5
The explosion was a nice one, if I do say so myself. I circumvented the security codes to the storage unit in a mere 45 microts; once inside, we relieved a pair of soldiers of their weapons to use as triggers. Crichton probably would have protested if he'd realized that while he was scouting the lower level for a suitable ignition point, I'd made sure that the soldiers wouldn't wake up to raise the alarm. But he didn't realize, and I wasn't going to mention it. I couldn't afford to leave witnesses behind, and we didn't have time for an argument.
We distributed the oil cartridges evenly between us. The pulse rifles and additional pistols, we set to overload and left wedged between two barrels of k'thenic oil.
Under cover of the resulting fire, we made our way to the main building. Once there, we split up. To cover more ground, I said, and he believed me. But there was too much that I needed to accomplish. Our priorities here were decidedly different - had been, from the moment Aeryn Sun shouted my name across the central square.
I had to be sure, after all. I was good at talking my way out of things, and Peacekeeper Command might take my word over that of a defector - they probably would. But given John Crichton's history of corrupting Peacekeepers - hezmana, even Crais seemed to be working with him now - I couldn't afford to take the chance that they wouldn't. And if High Command decided I was a traitor, my superiors in Special Directorate couldn't save me.
Of course, if we'd stuck together, what happened next wouldn't have happened at all.
While Crichton worked his way through the upper levels, I headed down. Stopped by the armory, took out the two guards there, grabbed the equipment I'd need. Had another few stops planned, too. I expected that Crichton would be the one to discover the prisoners, that he would be the one to comm me and tell me that they were ready to get the frell out of there.
Instead, I rounded the corner to a corridor that should have been deserted, and ran into two guards posted where they shouldn't have been. I recovered first, taking them both out quickly and silently. Then, I made a mistake and looked through the window of the door they'd been guarding.
Sun and Crais were nearly unconscious on the floor of the cell. Their faces were pale, except for patches of garish red high on their cheeks. Their hair was pasted to their brows by a sheen of sweat.
What was happening was obvious, and I didn't bother to smother my obscenity.
The situation had once again been taken out of my hands; I was starting to wonder if I'd ever actually been in control at all since leaving Tendaris. My freedom was at an end. I kicked one of the guards out of annoyance and frustration, not that he'd ever wake up to feel the bruise, then hit my comm, twice. The pre-arranged signal, to alert him but not call attention to him. If he could talk, he would.
"Yeah, Jena?"
"I've found them. Bottom level, third corridor. Hurry."
"On my way. Stay there."
Frell.
I looked through the door at them. The air in the room seemed to shimmer, and I calculated the time elapsed since they'd been taken. I couldn't wait for Crichton. Besides, with the guards dead, it was just a matter of time before someone stumbled across them. I was committed to this now.
As I keyed the door open, the heat hit me like a physical blow. I took a step back, braced myself. I could get them out before the heat took hold. But I'd have to do it quickly. I blew out my breath, and stepped into the room.
Hands grabbed me before I was halfway through the door, grabbed me, pulled me inward, threw me down. I rolled, came up on my feet, hand reaching for the holster at my thigh that I already knew would be empty - one of my attackers was holding my pulse pistol, a mocking grin on his face. Only two of them. I could take two, easily. I pushed down my rising alarm. Only two of them, yes. But they were wearing environmental suits. And they were between me and the door.
That just meant that I had to do this fast.
I went on the attack, swinging hard, catching the first in the throat, knocking the pistol down and away. He staggered back, barely keeping his feet. The other was already moving, and I spun, bringing my elbow up under what should have been his ribcage. My spin was off, though, sluggish, and instead I only caught him in the side. A painful blow, but not the one that would rob him of breath and keep him out of the fight for a precious few microts.
My arms were too heavy. The heat was getting to me. Already. I had to get out... I shouldered one of the guards out of the way, lunged for the door, gasping for breath. He caught me around the waist with insulting ease, hurled me back into the room. Back into the heat.
"So," he said, his grin visible behind his faceplate. "You'd be the one she called, what was it? Jenavian?"
I glared up at him. "Never heard of her."
The man sneered. "Right. You're a pretty bit, you are."
I felt the beginnings of pain clutch at my stomach muscles, but didn't let it show, only crouched where I was and grinned fiercely at him. "Take off that helmet, and I'll see if I can't make this interesting for you."
He actually laughed. "Can't say I'm not tempted, but I think I'll keep this right where it is."
I felt it, prickling along my spine, creeping through my skin. Heat. Too much heat. I had to do something. Quickly. I straightened. I was better than this. I could take down two second-rate Peacekeeper grunts on some substandard duty station.
But as I rose, the room seemed to tilt, and I staggered, catching myself against the wall. I could hear them laughing, shut it out. There were ways to fight off heat delirium, tricks they teach those who have only themselves to rely on. I just had to concentrate. They wouldn't prevent it, only delay it, delay the loss of control, slow the inevitable advance and give me a chance to get clear of it.
The guards had resumed their stations on either side of the door, were watching me, their expressions amused. How could they be enjoying this? That any Sebacean could enjoy watching another succumb to the Living Death...
I fell to all fours, panting against the heat.
I groaned, concentrated on my breathing, on my focus, on finding a center point. Find your center, I reminded myself fiercely. Concentrate on that.
If I died like this, they'd think I was a traitor. My duty, everything I'd fought for, would have been for nothing. I had so much more to do. How many people would die in the coming war if I didn't act to prevent it, delay it? I had to get through this, and I had to preserve my position.
Crais was muttering, curled in upon himself. I could hear Talyn's name, couldn't distinguish anything else.
Sun was shuddering, eyes closed tightly.
Strangely, she was smiling.
Time passed, I'm not sure how much, while I concentrated on one breath after another - and then I heard shots fired, hurried footsteps. Cool air on my skin told me that the door was open. I cracked my eyes open painfully, looked up into a blessedly familiar face, eyes blue and beautiful and concerned. I smiled. A genuine, grateful smile.
"John."
"Hey, Jena," he said, smiling back at me. "Just hold tight a little longer, okay? I'm gonna get you out of here. I promise."
I nodded, took a deep breath, feeling the hot air sear my lungs, reached for him to pull me up. But he was gone. I watched as he crossed the room, gathered Aeryn Sun into his arms. Her head rolled back, her arms dangled loose, uncontrolled. His soft whisper barely penetrated my heat dazed mind. "Come on, Aeryn, honey, I'll get you out of this. It'll be all right. Give me something here. Just hold onto me, baby, I won't let go." After a moment, she leaned her head into his chest, curled one hand up to grasp the back of his neck, the other gripping his forearm tightly. Something sharp, hollow, tugged at me as I watched him carry her through the door, to safety, still murmuring comforting nonsense against her hair.
I knew I was safe now, I knew I could last until he came back for me.
That was the point, wasn't it? But still, memories of his voice as he spoke to her, tender, gentle, sweet like drenath syrup, followed me into sleep, leaving me strangely bitter.
Consciousness returned in a rush, and I opened my eyes against the light, groaned at the pain I felt. No permanent damage, I knew, but the convulsions had left me stiff and sore.
"Hey, Jena. How you feeling?"
I pulled myself to a sitting position. Crichton was sitting across the room, near where Sun was slumped against the wall, her eyes closed. Near, but not touching. The color was still high in her face, her damp hair pasted to her cheeks.
"Where are we?"
"Still in the compound. Some sort of glorified broom closet. I think."
Crais was stretched out on the floor between us, an arm thrown over his face. I cast him a glance, looked back at Crichton. "Is he-?"
"He'll be all right. They were exposed to it longer than you were."
I grunted, stretched up to rub the stiff muscles of my neck. Crichton moved to my side, handed me a flask of water, which I sipped carefully. It tasted good - too good. The temptation to gulp it all down at once was almost overwhelming. But I knew the aftereffects of that - severe stomach cramping that would make my sore muscles seem like nothing. So I sipped carefully.
I didn't ask if he'd left me there while he'd fetched Crais, or whether I'd taken precedence over his former enemy. Instead I took a deep breath, handed the flask back to him, and pushed back against the wall, gaining my feet, wobbling there for a few moments. His hand was under my arm, supporting me.
"Easy. Just sit for a while-"
"No time," I said. "I've got to get back there."
"What?" He was surprised. "Why?"
"They had surveillance cameras," I said. "I've got to destroy the recordings."
"You can't be..." He blew out his breath. "Let it go, Jena. Walking back in-"
"Let it go?" What was he thinking? I straightened, too tired to hide my disbelief. "I've taken enough risks here. If they identify me as collaborating with deserters and fugitives, I'm finished as a Disruptor."
He merely looked at me, his gaze earnest and level. "Maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing."
I couldn't help it. I gaped at him. Mouth open, eyes wide. I must have looked like a kentris lizard.
"You're not serious."
"Why not?" he asked. "Jena, haven't you ever wanted..."
"What? Wanted what?"
"More." That was from Sun, who had opened her eyes and was watching us. For the first time, her voice wasn't flat, wasn't angry. It was soft, searching. "Haven't you ever wanted something more?"
I looked at them both, struggling to understand. They were both fahrbot, surely. "More?" I finally managed, not bothering to hide my disdain. "People rely on me to do what I do. I love what I do. I'm not some mindless grunt, following orders. What I do is important, it makes a difference. I make a difference. What more is there?"
Crichton's eyes were steady, calm, as he looked at me with an expression that I found strangely unnerving. Finally he nodded in acceptance and stepped back, releasing my arm.
I moved quickly, efficiently. I went to the cell where we'd been held, but only long enough to retrieve the supplies I'd pilfered from the armory, then moved on to finish the job I'd started before I'd been so shamefully distracted by Aeryn and Crais. No time to do this with subtlety, to make distinctions. I was done and at our rendezvous spot in the transport area in just outside a half an arn. No matter how completely I covered my tracks, I wasn't going to stay on this rock, not now. It would be safer to get away, meet up with another Peacekeeper base. I'd taken too many risks on this planet already.
Finding transport had been easy. Even in my still weakened state, the merchants were no match for me, and I had finished cleaning the blood from my wrist blade by the time they arrived. Sun was on her feet, walking without aid; Crais was leaning heavily on Crichton, limping from the leg wound he'd received in the square. "Get them in the transport," I ordered briskly. "You can pilot it?"
"Um..." Crichton cast an uncertain glance at the unfamiliar flight controls. "Do I have to?"
"You have to," I responded. "None of us are steady enough. Take us off the ground, but wait until I tell you to take us out of atmosphere. And hold us steady."
He deposited Crais in one of the seats, then moved to the flight controls as Sun buckled her former captain in safely. As the craft lifted off from the ground, I waited in the still-open doorway. When I was sure of our distance, I triggered the control.
The sequence of explosions rocked us; I could hear Crichton's exclamation of surprise before he steadied the craft. As we tilted back to level, I keyed the door shut.
"Now, take us up."
For a long moment, he didn't move. Didn't respond to my order, merely stared out of the viewscreen at the roiling fire and smoke below us. The explosion had consumed the Peacekeeper outpost; the resulting fire would spread into the town.
I pushed past Sun and Crais. What was wrong with him? Was he injured? "Crichton! Take us up!"
He turned to look at me, and I was startled by the expression in his eyes. Anger, tight, controlled. "Was that you, Jena?"
"I had to cover our tracks," I shrugged. "If anyone identified me..."
"There was no reason for it," he said, his voice low. "You destroyed the records, right?"
"I just did." His jaw set. I closed my eyes briefly, took a deep breath. I was trying very hard to be patient, but he wasn't making it easy. "There were guards. There were other soldiers. I didn't have time to stop every Peacekeeper in that building and ask each of them what they had or hadn't seen. I just couldn't take the chance." Why couldn't he understand this? The risks I had taken, the exposure - my remaining a Disruptor was to the benefit of all Sebaceans. In light of the coming war against the Scarrans, I had to measure the lives of a few backwater, second-rate ground troops against the good I could do.
"And the people in the town? The civilians?"
They wouldn't be missed, but I couldn't say that. I couldn't tell him that they were drug dealers, criminals. Not without admitting that I knew this planet, had known the base was here all along.
"To save your life, I can see," he continued. "God knows, I'm the last to judge on body counts-"
"John." Aeryn Sun's voice. He subsided, surprised. As was I. She was looking at him, and her eyes weren't cold, weren't distant. It was clear that she understood, even while I was completely confused by his attitude. Her eyes held understanding and sympathy. "Don't," she said, and her voice was gentle. "Not everyone wants to be saved."
The words hung in the cabin of the transport, inexplicable. Saved? Saved from what? Who the frell were they to think that I needed to be saved from anything? And that they were the ones to do it?
Whatever she meant, Crichton seemed to understand, and he grimaced, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "All right. Whatever." He didn't look at me. But he wasn't quite done. "I thought you were the one who didn't like to leave bodies lying around, Jena."
"I don't. People will start looking for a culprit. But such a coincidence - the famed renegade John Crichton was spotted in the market square today..." I trailed off, a teasing smile in my voice.
He shot me a glance that was anything but a smile. "Perfect. One more massacre they'll be laying at my doorstep."
"One more reason for you to do what I tell you to do and get us back to Moya and out of this system."