Back to part two

“The Peacekeepers had a problem known as the Acquatarians.” Soren explained.

“Hey!” Crichton exclaimed, “We know them.”

“Crichton, please.” Aeryn scolded.

“But we do.” He muttered under his breath.

Soren stifled a laugh and continued, “The Hynerians had removed most of the Acquatarians from their homeworld and deposited them somewhere in the Uncharted Territories.” Crichton was nodding his head vigorously, Aeryn rolled her eyes as Soren continued, “That wasn’t the problem. The problem lay in the Acquatarians resemblance to Sabbaceans.”

“I know that problem, brother.” Crichton mumbled. Aeryn jabbed him with her elbow.

Soren couldn’t keep from smirking, “The Peacekeepers rounded up the remaining Acquatarians and decided to remove them from Charted space.” His smirk was transforming itself into a sad smile, “A scout named Perit had located this system during a survey expedition. He survived long enough to make his report.”

“What’d he die of?” Crichton inquired.

“Extreme old age.” Soren replied, “He was rewarded with honourable retirement.”

“They killed him!”

Soren nodded, “An honour that he had both earned and requested.” Crichton snorted derisively. Soren let it pass.

“The system was chosen has a new internment camp for the Acquatarians. They were loaded into a transport with a tech crew and a Peacekeeper detachment. A light cruiser was assigned as escort. They left the Charted regions of space and headed here.”

“So this is the remains of a concentration camp?” Crichton asked angrily, “I think I was wrong about you people.”

Soren shook his head sadly, “No, its not a ‘concentration camp’. No camp was ever built.”

“Why not?” Crichton asked, “Did they simply shoot the Acquatarians upon arrival?”

“No, they killed their flight crew and fled to the other binary system.”

“Pity they didn’t kill you all.” D’Argo growled.

Soren shot him an annoyed glare, “They may not have wanted to come her, but we were going to build them a new home on this planet. That’s why the crew of the escort cruiser was primarily made up of mechanical and agricultural techs.”

“So what happened?” Aeryn asked coolly, “Even techs should have been able to defeat Acquatarians.”

Soren met her gaze, “They weren’t alone.”

“Who else was there?” D’Argo growled.

“The neighbouring white dwarf has an inhabited planet. The twelfth planet supports indigenous life. The indigs did not have much in the way of tech, but they caught us by surprise.”

“You were defeated by an inferior force?” Aeryn’s tone was acidic.

“The troopers assigned to this mission were ground keeping specialists.”

Aeryn laughed derisively, “You mean they couldn’t cut it as Fleet troopers.”

Soren’s eyes narrowed, “Perhaps, or perhaps they saw their mission as primarily defensive in nature.”

“They were second-rate cowards.” Aeryn snorted.

“Aeryn.” Crichton warned softly, noticing the stares the other patrons were giving them. This time, there was animosity building in those looks.

“However you perceive it,” Soren interjected sharply, “The fact of the matter is that the Acquatarians fled into the neighbouring system and launched a war against us.”

“Why didn’t your ancestors just flee home?”

“Aeryn!” Crichton hissed more urgently. The patrons of the other tables were stirring now.

“For two basic reasons.” Soren answered, voice tinged with anger, “First off, they had your stubborn, misplaced Peacekeeper pride. Second, the ship had lost hypervelocity capability.”

“You were stuck here.” Aeryn replied flatly.

“Yes.” Soren answered through gritted teeth, “We were. We had to rebuild our tech base and build a viable agricultural base.”

“Did that take long?” Crichton asked.

Soren shrugged, “It took longer than we would have liked due to the attacks by the Acquatarians and the Vickel.”

“The Vickel are the other species?” Aeryn asked. Her detachment was returning.

“Yes. They are a quadripedal race.” Soren explained, “They stand vertically upon four legs and possess four grasping arms.”

“How advanced is their tech?” Aeryn inquired.

“Slightly behind ours.” Soren admitted, “Which barely cancels their numerical advantage.”

“How many of them are there?”

“The estimates regarding Vickel population places them between fifty to sixty decs. The Acquatarians have approximately twenty decs.”

Crichton assumed that the numbers equated to thousands, “How many of you are there?”

“Roughly forty decs.” Soren replied grimly, “That’s barely enough to maintain our forces and our substinance base.”

“How many Peacekeepers do you have?” Aeryn asked sharply, eyes hawk-like.

“None.” Soren answered. The gaping faces that he saw after that comment inspired him to explain further, “We didn’t have enough troops to maintain traditional Peacekeeper/Tech divisions, so we combined them. Virtually every member of our society holds a place in the Warden force.”

“That’s the name you used to replace Peacekeeper?”

Soren gave her a slight nod, “It was an original concept, it needed an original name.”

“And it has worked?”

Soren gave her wolfish smile, “It’s kept us alive.”

“It seems to be working.” Crichton commented. Feeling uneasy under Aeryn and D’Argo’s blistering glares, he shrugged, “I mean, you guys are a lot more laid back than any Peacekeepers I’ve ever met.”

“Maybe because we have a home, not just a ship.” Soren replied earnestly, “Or maybe it’s because we try to judge a person on how they perform at their task, not by what the task is.” The last words had been aimed squarely at Aeryn and she bridled under them.

“That may work here,” she countered, “but it would never work back home.”

“Which is why we never wish to return to Sabbacea or Peacekeeper held territories. We were born here. This is our way of life. We’ll die before rejoining Peacekeeper Command.”

“You’ll get your wish if they ever find you.” Aeryn commented dryly.

“We’ve been preparing.” Soren replied solemnly, “Our orbital defences are quite formidable.”

“Against what?” Aeryn scoffed, “An unarmed Leviathan maybe.”

Soren’s eyes narrowed as he heard the challenge in her voice, “Let’s take a little walk shall we?”

Aeryn nodded and stood. The others followed suit with far less enthusiasm. Soren led them out if the eatery and down the street. He entered a heavily constructed building. The others followed.

Upon entering, they found themselves in an open arena styled plaza. At the far end of the space stood several silhouette targets. They came in human shapes and those of four legged, four armed creatures. It was obviously a shooting range.

“Katryn, would you be so kind as to retrieve a impeller rifle from the armoury?” Soren asked Qek. She turned on her heel and trotted off to a side door. She returned a moment later with a rifle identical to that carried by the reception committee the crew had received upon landing.

The lines were virtually identical to Aeryn’s pulse rifle, except for the magazine protruding from the stock behind the grip. He brought the rifle to his shoulder and aimed down the range. He squeezed the trigger and several bright, blue/purple discharges appeared at the end of the barrel. Several cyan streaks flew towards one of the human targets. It was shredded in microns.

Soren lowered the rifle and turned to Aeryn, “What do you think?”

“Fairly impressive.” She commented, “How does it work?”

“For some reason, we can’t grow tannat roots in any abundance here. No tannat, no chakran oil. The pulse rifles our forefathers carried were far less impressive than yours, of course. We compensated by switching to using a hybrid between electromagnetics and gravitics to propel a one unit projectile at speeds near hypervelocity.”

“Exactly how big is one unit?” Crichton asked.

Soren detached the magazine from the rifle and withdrew a single needle-like projectile from it. It was one centimetre in length and width. It was also made of some ceramic material.

“Doesn’t look like much.” Crichton commented while examining it.

Soren grinned appreciatively, “Not until it hits you hard enough to shatter your bones.”

“Point taken.” Crichton replied as he handed the bullet back, “Sounds like something they’ve worked on back home. It’s called a kinetic rail gun.”

“If you ever reach home, tell them it’s quite effective.”

“What about your orbitals?” Aeryn chimed in.

“The orbital platforms and the fighters receive the bulk of the chakran oil. Each also carries a mix of impeller weapons as well seeker darts.”

“Seeker darts?”

Soren rubbed his chin while trying to find the words, “A seeker dart is similar to an impeller dart except that it contains a warhead filled with chakran oil. The impeller is internally contained as is a guidance system so that the dart is self-guiding.”

“It’s a missile!” Crichton whooped, “You’re talking about a guided missile.”

Everyone stared at him, Soren shrugged, “It seems your people and mine have a great deal in common.”

“No, they don’t.” Aeryn snapped, “Your people are the Peacekeepers, and trust me, we have little in common with Humans.”

Soren’s eyes were sad when he met Aeryn’s, “I fear we have less in common with our fellow Sabbaceans than this Human, Officer Sun.”

“You said you wanted our help.” D’Argo said brusquely, “Help with what?”

Soren still looked saddened as he turned to D’Argo, “Every seven cycles, the two binary systems come close enough to allow strikes between the two solar systems. We are coming within range. The bulk of our fleet is already nearing the edge of Acquatarian/Vickel space. We were hoping you may have passed close enough to them to have useful data on their deployments to aide a our ships in targeting them or that you would be willing to trade weapons tech.”

“No.” Aeryn and D’Argo replied in stereo. If it hadn’t been so frightening for them to agree, Crichton would have found it amusing. Soren and Qek seemed saddened by the news, but angered. Soren shrugged, slapping his hands against his thighs.

“Then that’s that.” He said sullenly, “I could only try.”

“We’re are your prisoners then?” D’Argo asked crossly.

“No.” Soren shook his head, “You’re free to go. Katryn will take down a list of supplies you need and they will be delivered to your transport.”

“Why are you being so generous?” Aeryn asked.

“I told you that we would provide what we could.” Soren answered honestly, “My people believe in keeping their word.”

“Wait a minute.” Crichton interrupted, “You’re about to launch a major attack against the Acquatarians?”

Soren nodded, “That’s correct.”

“When’s the last time you talked to them?” he asked. “Maybe they don’t want to fight any more.” He suggested.

Aeryn threw her arms out in frustration, “Not now, Crichton.”

Soren looked confused, “I don’t understand.”

“Y’know, when’s the last time you communicated with them?”

Soren remained puzzled, “We’ve never communicated with them.”

It was John’s turn to be stunned, “You’ve never talked to them? In two hundred cycles, you’ve NEVER talked to them?”

“Now is really not the time for this.” Aeryn growled.

“Time for what?” Soren asked.

“Don’t ask.” Aeryn groused, “He always wants to talk to opponents and negotiate.”

“Look, it works.” Crichton protested passionately, “Look how many times we’ve ‘talked’ our way out trouble rather than blasting our way through it!”

“Only because we don’t have the firepower or personnel to launch a decent attack.” Aeryn protested.

“Only because YOU don’t have enough firepower.” Crichton accused, “The rest of us are doing fine with asking first, shooting only if absolutely necessary.”

“I only shoot when necessary.” Aeryn replied defensively.

“Aeryn,” Crichton’s voice rose as he became more involved in the argument, “your motto is ‘shoot first, ask questions never’. You would’a made a good cop in L.A.”

“And what do you suggest in this case?” she asked scornfully.

“Why don’t we take Warden Soren here, and maybe the lovely Sergeant Qek, aboard Moya and take a jaunt to talk to the neighbours?”

“Are you insane?” Aeryn barely kept form shouting. D’Argo shook his head in disgust. Qek looked puzzled. Chiana was bored, but eyeing the impeller rifle with a greedy glint in her eye. Soren, though, was lost deep in thought.

“And who will accompany them on this little ‘jaunt’?” she asked as though questioning an idiot.

“Well, Zhaan and Rygel are our best negotiators, so they should come.” Crichton replied, then more hesitantly, “Maybe you and D’Argo should stay here and learn to play nice with the natives.”

Aeryn and D’Argo shouted protests at the same time, “Are you insane” from Aeryn, “You are dreaming.” Came from D’Argo.

“Listen,” Crichton said soothingly, they kept protesting. “Listen.” He repeated to no effect. “Hey!” he shouted back, “Will you listen?”

He looked at D’Argo, “Maybe you could come.”

“There is no way I am being left here.” D’Argo informed him menacingly.

“And what about me?” Aeryn huffed.

“You should probably stay behind.” Crichton answered, “If you d of along, you’re gonna pull a Mel Gibson and get in their faces and start shooting everything in sight.”

“Mel Gibson?” she asked wearily.

“Mad Max, Road Warrior, Lethal Weapon, Lethal Weapon 2, Lethal Weapon 3, and I heard, although I can’t tell you for sure…since I was stuck at the backside of the galaxy when it was supposed to come out, Lethal Weapon 4.”

“Lethal Weapon, eh?” she replied appraisingly, “At least this person sounds like someone respectable.”

“No.” Crichton protested, shaking his head and waving his arms, “You don’t get it. Gibson’s characters always goes after the bad guys. When he finds them, he goes nuts and kills everyone in sight.”

“Very respectable.” Aeryn sounded impressed, “maybe your species has some redeeming specimens after all.”

Crichton sighed, rubbing his face with his hands, “You still don’t get it. Even his loved ones get killed. His friends get beat up, all hell breaks loose because the guy pulls a gun every time someone tries to talk to him.”

“Sensible too.” Aeryn said, smiling.

“Forget it.” Crichton said at last, “It’s no use talking to you. It’s like when you wanted to go after the Tavloids.”

“TavLEKS.” Aeryn growled.

“Whatever. The point is that you went balls to the wall and hauled ass down there to try and shoot them all.” He said in frustration, “You even knocked me out and drug me along.”

“It was my turn, my plan.” Aeryn replied calmly, “You agreed to that.”

“No.” he said pointing his finger at her, “You agreed to it.” He looked over at Soren, “Are you willing to try?”

Soren’s looked as though the weight of his people’s future was upon him. He paused for a micron, then nodded. As he agreed, his features hardened with resolve. He appeared like the wartime leader he was. Crichton thought it looked good on him.

“I’m willing to try.” He said with a firm conviction no one dared to challenge.

“That’s just great.” Aeryn muttered bitterly.

“Aeryn.” Crichton spoke up.

“What?” she snapped irritably as she turned toward him.

His fist slammed into her. She slumped to the ground as D’Argo caught her and gently lowered her down. His eyes held a surprised respect for John. Crichton massaged his knuckles.

“My plan.” He said to her still form.


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