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John gazed with wonder at the soft blue, cloud-studded sky of Reimmat, momentarily forgetting his fear as he walked along a tree-lined dirt path. This terrain reminded him of Lake Tahoe in the winter time.  The light of the sun was playing off of the snow and dancing among the tree branches.  Of all places...of all species to be in a beautiful place like this...His memory flashed briefly on a family ski trip.  The trees were just like this, mostly tall conifers...and he thought he had spied a blue lake when the Narjaain shuttle passed over the lowest nearby mountain...

John suddenly winced as Adaair's grip tightened on the ropes tied around his wrists, his arms sore from being held behind his back for the past arn and a half.  Back to reality.  "Hey, take it easy," he said, immediately regretting the 'transgression' as the Narjaain warrior walking beside Aeryn two steps ahead of them whirled around, his green eyes flashing irritation.  Svarstaan was also walking with Aeryn and he gave John a warning look.

After another few meters, Svarstaan stopped next to a metal brazier and a stone fountain tucked between two saplings.  He plunged his hands into the fountain and a cloyingly sweet scent arose from the water.  "You are not to speak unless told to, Sebacean male," he said as he removed his hands. Small, bead-shaped green leaves clung to his ruddy skin and tendrils of mist floated around his arms.  The floral scent was even stronger now.

John really wanted to ask what Svarstaan was doing, but he didn't dare.  He watched with fascination as Svarstaan then dipped his head in the fountain. The bead-like leaves coated Svarstaan's black hair and dotted his face when he pulled his head out of the water.

Adaair quirked his ridged brow at John.  "You want to know what he's doing."

John didn't answer.  He just looked at Adaair.

Adaair chuckled.  "You learn quickly.  You may speak."

John continued to look at Adaair.

Svarstaan noticed the exchange as he wiped the leaves from his head and hands.  He frowned.  "Second rule, Sebacean.  When spoken to, you speak back."

John stared at him.

"Stubborn, aren't you.  Fine."  Svarstaan stepped in front of the brazier next to the fountain and removed one of his daggers from his belt.  He placed the dagger in between the coals in the brazier, counted off a few microts then removed it.  He leaned towards the Narjaain holding Aeryn and took her from him.  He swung Aeryn around and held the hot knife close to her neck. Aeryn flinched.

John met Aeryn's eyes first, then Svarstaan's.  "Fine, I get the drill," he droned, fighting back his fear for Aeryn.  These guys meant business.  And they didn't seem too fond of women.  And what was with this weird fountain ritual?  The guy smelled like flowers now.  Whatever it was, things were not looking good.  And...at least they had taken Aeryn and him; he couldn't imagine her being down here alone.  A battleprize.  Sure, he was a battleprize too, but D'Argo's words earlier that day had struck a nerve; Aeryn was likely to be in more trouble than he was since she was female. They could only hope D'Argo and Zhaan would would figure something out.  Soon.

John felt Adaair shove him from behind and they proceeded forward.  After only a few microts, they turned a corner and reached a large light gray stone structure at the end of the path.  Double metal doors painted orange were set into the stone.  It seemed that the structure was natural, carved into the mountain.  Aeryn's guard pushed a green button next to the doors and they slid open, revealing a cavernous room with dark blue walls and smoky amber lights placed every few feet.  Numerous black metal crates were in the room, arranged in five long rows facing away from the entrance.  It looked to John like there were ten of these crates in each of the rows.

And in each of the nearest crates--he couldn't clearly see the others--a Sebacean or other humanoid being was standing or sitting, staring up at them with vacant expressions.  It seemed a world apart from the beauty of what lay outside.  John felt rather than saw Aeryn's guard push her next to him.

"Your new home...for now," the guard said, grinning, the bony ridges crinkling upward with the motion.  Looking at the Narjaain in this dim light, John could only keep picturing a cross between Cardassians and Freddie Krueger.  And, ohhh, he wanted to say something right now.  He looked to the side and saw the same need on Aeryn's face.  But she had quickly learned, as he had done, that speaking to a Narjaain when not spoken to was a mistake.

< She must be hating this > John mused.  < Even more than me >.

"Follow," Aeryn's guard barked at them, taking the lead as John's guard took the rear, walking them to the last row of crates on the right.  The lights were brighter here near the wall, clearly revealing the occupants of the crates.

John made sure that he eyed every occupant in the row, five Sebacean females, two Sebacean males, one Delvian female and two unfamiliar species, both of them female--at least he was reasonably sure they were female.  As they reached the end, John realized five more rows of crates lay beyond a narow alley, several of the containers lying empty in the far right row.  Aeryn's guard opened the first crate and shoved her inside.  Adaair skipped the crate next to the one they put Aeryn in and shoved John in the next one.  Both crates were shut with a decisive clang.  And that was it.  They were prisoners.

*****

D'Argo plotted in the coordinates Pilot had given him and watched the planet grow larger in the transport pod's view screen.  Reimmat.  It looked harmless enough.  In fact, it seemed similar to the Earth that John had often described.  Mixtures of soft blues and greens dotted with clouds in many places.  A small planet though.  Smaller than John's Earth, probably.

A noise in one of the storage compartments drew D'Argo's attention away from the planet.  He turned his head and heard a second thump.  "What is this?" he mumbled, rising from one of the chairs next to the transport control console. D'Argo grabbed his Qualta blade and approached the compartment.  He stood to the side to avoid having a weapon drawn on him.  "Whoever is in there, come out now," he ordered.  "I'm armed."

Nothing.

"I repeat, whoever is in there-"

"All right, all right, don't get your tentacles in a twist," a high female voice said from behind the door.

"Dren," D'Argo grumbled.  He reached out and pulled the door open.  "What the hezmana are you doing here?"

Chiana grinned up at him.  "I thought you could use some help."

"You thought you could abandon us."

Chiana's face fell, her mouth curling downward in a pout.  "Aw, come on.  I'm going crazy stuck up in Moya all the time.  I need some fresh air."

"You're crazy anyway.  And the air on Moya is quite fresh.  I'm taking you back."

D'Argo turned back to the control console.

Chiana reached out to stop him.  D'Argo gave her a withering look.  Chiana lowered her arm.  "Hey, you can use me...  Besides, there's no time to turn back.  They need our help."

"You mean my help.  You'll only be in the way."

"I promise you, I won't."

D'Argo gazed at the young thief.  She was just as bad as Rygel.  But she was here.  And, hex if he would admit it, but he thought he could use her help. "Very well.  But you don't leave my sight when we're on the planet."

"Deal," Chiana replied, grinning and holding out her hand.

D'Argo regarded her proferred hand with a scowl.  "Prove yourself first."

Chiana lowered her hand and mumbled something incoherent.

"What did you say?"

"Just fly the frelling transport," Chiana answered.  "I'll prove myself."

D'Argo moved back to the chair and sat down.  He said on a breath, "I'm going to regret this."

"I heard that," Chiana said from behind him.

D'Argo rolled his eyes and looked at the view screen.  They were just passing through the upper atmosphere.

*****

As soon as the guards were gone, Aeryn turned to Crichton.  She thought it was rather stupid for these prisoner cells to have bars like this.  She could easily speak to John even though he was one crate away from her.  "Crichton," she whispered.

"Yeah, Aeryn."

"This is absurd."

"You're telling me."

"I believe that while we were on Moya, the Narjaain knew we were there the entire time.  I think they divided us from the others on purpose."

John thought for a moment.  "I think you might have something there...why bother though?  They're a warring species.  They don't strike me as the type to avoid a fight just so no one gets killed."

Aeryn shook her head.  "No, it's something more...something, I don't know, ritualistic about the way we were taken."

John bowed his head and leaned it against the bars for a moment, deep in thought.

Aeryn regarded him with interest.  "What are you thinking, Crichton?"

John raised his head and pushed off from the bars.  He began to pace.  "I'm thinking that you've hit on something.  Ritualistic.  Remember what Svarstaan did before we were brought in here?  The fountain.  The freaky tea leaves or whatever they were?  They were aromatic.  And I seriously doubt that Svarstaan dabbles in aromatherapy for relaxation."

"Aromatherapy?"

John waved off the query.  "Never mind.  I just think...  Actually I don't know what I think.  I do know we need to get out of here...fast."

Aeryn gave him a sly glance and crouched down.

John watched her pull a small rod out of her boot, a rod like the one the Narjaain had used to stun them.  John raised his brows, a bemused look on his face.  "How the hell did you get that?"

Aeryn stood up and held it up, examining it in the dim light.  "It fell from Svarstaan's belt when you pushed him."  She paused.  "I must say I'm not impressed by him.  He didn't even check his equipment when we left the shuttle."

John gazed at her.  "You're amazing."

"Reserve such judgement for later.  We'll see once the guards return.  I can't use this until they come back and unlock the door.  In the meantime, we should devise a strategy for escape."

John let Aeryn gloss over his compliment.  He had the sense that she was slightly embarrassed at his use of the word 'amazing'.  Once they were out of this jam, he would try out the compliment again.  Besides, he had his own good news to share.  He smiled at her.  "Well, as far as escape goes, I'm sure this will help."

"What?"

John held up one finger, indicating for her to wait a microt.  He reached into the sleeve of his jacket and pulled out a thin strip of metal with a flat end.  A screwdriver.  "I had it on me...back on Moya.  They missed it when they searched me," he answered Aeryn's questioning eyes.  "Chiana's been teaching me a few tricks."

Aeryn quirked an eyebrow.  "Really?"

"Thief tricks, Aeryn," John replied, sliding past the teasing implication of her tone.  "She's been teaching me how to pick locks and..." he stopped speaking as he heard footsteps approaching.  Aeryn looked around.  She had heard them too.  John quickly shoved the screwdriver back into his sleeve and Aeryn bent quickly to put the rod back in her boot.  They nodded at each other and waited for the guards to round the corner.

Ten microts later, Svarstaan and someone they hadn't met before appeared. Another male Narjaain.  His uniform was darker than Svarstaan's, the red armor being more subdued, the blue of his uniform navy, not bright.  He had a string of triangular and circular medals hanging from his neck.  Shots of gray striped his braided black hair.  He looked at Aeryn, silently assessing her.  Then he looked at John, his green eyes intent and curious.

John looked back at the decorated Narjaain.  He was clearly a leader and not very talkative.  John gazed directly into the leader's green eyes, puzzled. A few microts passed, then the leader lowered his eyes and nodded at Svarstaan.

Without a word, Svarstaan unlocked Aeryn's crate.  He nodded curtly to her and threw a package of cloth at her feet.  "Change into those.  I'll return in a moment."  He slammed the door shut and walked away, two steps behind the leader.

Once the Narjaain were away, John stared intently at the white clothes lying on the floor of Aeryn's crate.  "What the hell is that for?"  The bitter taste of bile rose into his throat.  He was afraid he already knew the answer.

Aeryn didn't answer, but her tense expression revealed her thoughts clearly. John whipped the screwdriver out of his sleeve and began to frantically pick at the lock.

"It won't work," a faint voice said from a nearby crate.  Not Aeryn's voice.

John ignored the voice and kept at the lock, twisting the screwdriver in different directions.  He didn't particularly care to hear the viewpoint of another prisoner right now.

"Crichton," Aeryn said.

John ignored her too.  He swore under his breath as the screwdriver kept slipping from his grasp.  His hand was sweating.  He wiped it on his leg and tried again.

"I said it won't work," the stranger's voice said, tearing at the edge of John's anxiety.

This time John looked up and turned around.  His eyes met the gaze of a Delvian female who was imprisoned two crates away behind him.  He hadn't even seen her before.  She must have been concealed in the shadows.  Her white hair was longer than he had seen on Lorana and Tahleen and her blue, gold-embroidered robes hung loosely about her body.  He felt Aeryn looking at the woman as well.  He turned and exchanged a brief glance with Aeryn then looked at the woman again.

"Why won't it work?" he asked.

The woman glanced up, a mere flicker of her eyes indicating that she wished him to look up as well.  John sighed and looked up.  His heart sank.  Why hadn't he thought of this before?  On a high terrace overlooking the room were several circular viewing portals.  Tinted.  They were being watched.

"Frell," Aeryn muttered.

"Frell, indeed," John said under his breath.  "For all we know they can hear us too," he added quietly.

"For all I know, they can't," the Delvian replied.  "I've been here for a half cycle and I've seen no indication that they can hear the chamber."

"The chamber?" John asked.

"This place.  The prison chamber.  Or I should say, battleprize chamber."

"What do they want with us?" John asked.

"You are Sebacean.  Peacekeeper if I'm any judge of appearances.  What do you think they want of you?"

She said it like the answer was obvious.  John threw out his arms impatiently.  "Well, that's the million dollar question."

The woman creased her brow.  "Dollar?  What sort of-"

"Never mind," John said quietly.  He turned to Aeryn and held onto the bars. She did likewise.

"They know we have the tool and the stunner, Crichton," Aeryn said.  She looked down at the clothes.  "And they know I haven't changed into...those," she added in a tone of disgust.

John closed his eyes and hit his head lightly against the bars.  "This, as we say back home, sucks."  He raised his head and opened his eyes.  "If they can see us, why didn't they try to stop me from picking the lock?"

"Because," the woman answered, "one locking mechanism controls all the doors. You can only pick the lock mechanically.  That tool is useless."

"Figures," John muttered, hitting the bars with his palms.  He began to pace again.  His first impulse was to yell obscenities at the Narjaain, but he knew that would get him nowhere fast... and it would probably be entertaining to them.  His eyes rested on the white clothes still lying untouched on the floor in Aeryn's cell.  She was staring at them again.

"I'm not changing into those," Aeryn said, kicking at them derisively.

"It would be wiser to play along," the Delvian said quietly.  "I have done it many times."

"And just what is it you've done?" John asked.  Why he bothered to ask, he didn't really know.

It was too late for the answer anyway.  The woman melded into the shadows of her cell as heavy booted footsteps echoed along the floor.  Svarstaan and Adaair appeared.

"Well, Officer Sun," Svarstaan said, stopping in front of Aeryn's cell.  He folded his arms and gawked at her.  "You haven't followed orders."

Aeryn rolled her eyes.  "As if you didn't already know that."  She glanced up at the tinted windows.  "I won't be changing into these clothes."  She kicked at them for emphasis.

"Very well," Svarstaan sighed.  He was in a better mood than before.  His tone was mildly mocking, but he wasn't exhibiting the anger he had revealed before.  John noticed the difference.

"So, what kind of battle treasure did you collect for abducting us?" John asked, leaning against the bars, guessing correctly that Svarstaan's improved mood indicated that he was a bit richer than he had been that morning.

Svarstaan snorted slightly and his lip curled upward in a derisive, though self-satisfied smile.  Without answering John's question, he unlocked the door and motioned to Aeryn to come out.  She stood her ground.

Svarstaan sighed again.  "Hold that on her, Adaair."

Adaair trained his pulse rifle on Aeryn while Svarstaan stepped inside her cell and swept the clothes up into his arms.  Next, he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her out of the door.  She attempted to pull away, but he was ready for her this time and he grasped harder.  "This way, Officer Sun."

Aeryn fought, but Svarstaan's iron grip prevented her from much movement. Adaair slung the pulse rifle behind his back and took Aeryn's other arm.

John watched the three figures recede in the distance, looking after them even when they had disappeared through a door in the wall.  He fought back the fear which had been threatening to overwhelm him since their arrival on Reimmat.  "What are they going to do with her?" he asked without bothering to look at the Delvian.

A soft rustle of robes indicated that she had come to the bars of her cell. "Time will tell," she answered.

John hung his head.  He tried to think of a time he had felt more helpless since his arrival in this crazed section of the universe.  Of all the bad-assed, warring, fire-breathing, experimenting, blue-gob regurgitating species he'd encountered...Sheyang, Tavloid...Tavlek, Scorvian, Ratman, Drak...hell, even Sebacean...none of them came close to instilling the fear he felt now...

"Damn it, damn it, damn it..."  John's voice died on a short breath, only to come back on a choked off, desperate apology.  "I'm sorry, Aeryn."

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