Title : Rainbow Girl
Author : Bluey
Rating : NC-17 Death, female intimacy (couple and threesome) and violence, NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART.
Pairing : Chiana/Zhaan/Other
SUMMARY : Zhaan has to heal a young girl from a race she has never heard of before.
Spoilers : Set somewhere between "Hidden Memory" and "The Locket".
Author's Notes : It was supposed to be a short story, but it kept developping...
PROLOGUE
Moya's lights go from dim to very bright as she starbursts unexpectedly. Everyone on board is thrown out of bed, dresses quickly and assembles in the control room. Pilot looks more surprised than distressed as he looks up to them.
- I was about to call you, he says, pushing buttons as he speaks. Moya has heard a distress call from another Leviathan.
- We've been there before, Pilot! exclaims Rygel, floating to the control panel. Each time we try to help someone, we end up being the ones who need help.
- We've made mistakes in the past, says Zhaan very calmly. It doesn't mean we should do nothing.
- She's right, cuts in D'argo, pushing Rygel out of his way to the control panel. All Leviathans are not under the Peacekeepers control. If they were, why would they still catch young ones?
- I still say it's a bad idea, insists Rygel, floating backwards slowly.
- I'm sorry, says Pilot. I can't change Moya's mind. She has recognise the signature of the call, and won't be deterred by anything you might say.
- Who is it, Pilot? asks Zhaan gently.
- Her... her mother, says Pilot. She's dying.
+=+=+=+=+=+=+
DAY ONE
- Is she dead? asks Chiana, incredulously.
- For the third time, yes, growls D'argo. There are signs of gangrene in a third of her hull, and her pilot...
- He's dead, says Pilot. Though he manages to give me a remote control on some of his scanners, I can't communicate with him anymore.
- Any lifesigns? asks Zhaan, in the middle of her prayer.
- No... I mean yes, there are, says Pilot, looking at his own console. Faint lifesigns are detected on tier nine, Treblin side, third cell from the neural nexus conveyer system.
- My room, says Chiana lightly.
All eyes turn to face her.
- What? she asks. This is where I live. All Leviathans are built the same way, aren't they?
- Chiana is right, says Pilot. It's the exact same cell.
- Come with me, says Aeryn in a commanding tone of voice, looking at D'argo. We don't know how long the air will stay breathable.
Zhaan takes a step towards them.
- No, Zhaan, says Aeryn firmly. Two are enough. Stay here. We'll bring him to you.
- Who says it's a him? asks Chiana as she follows her. Why not a woman?
- Him, her, whatever, growls D'argo, pushing her away, but more gently than he's done with Rygel. We'll bring IT aboard. Satisfied, Chiana?
Zhaan goes down to the infirmary and prepares her medicine and equipment. Chiana has followed her and looks on attentively, trying not to be in the Delvian's way, as she moves very fast.
- How do you know what you'll need? asks Chiana.
- I don't, answers Zhaan, smiling to her. I have to be ready for... anything.
- Like burns or broken bones? asks Chiana, looking at Zhaan as she dons her lab coat and sterile gloves.
- Fractures? Yes, it would explain why the lifesigns don't move at all. But I truly expect something more like deshydratation, starvation, multiple trauma, and most assurely...
Aeryn comms in the clamshell:
- I had to go back for a suit, explains Aeryn. That white fluff...can't see a thing beyond my hand. Are you sure someone can survive that?
- Pilot, do you still detect lifesigns? asks Zhaan, becoming very concerned.
- Yes, Zhaan, he answers readily. Very faint but stationary. The individual is not moving.
- Can't move much in a cell, says Chiana lightly.
- We're at the cell, comms in Aeryn. Retreiving the... what is that?
Both Chiana and Zhaan are glued to the image the clamshell is transmitting, but even if they squint, there's not much to see. The audio comes in all right, but they have almost no visual. Pilot tries to block interferences, but the grainy texture of Aeryn's helmet cam only gives them a fuzzy picture. That is until Aeryn stops moving and the airy dust settles down. What Zhaan and Chiana see is a prone body with long silvery hair and opalescent skin. She wears the tattered remnants of a dress, which covers very little of her emaciated figure. Her arms and legs are bare, dirty, but seemingly unscathed. She has breasts, showing through the tears of the fabric, but she looks young, very young, and completely unresponsive as Aeryn turns the unconscious girl on her back, and looks into the girl's face.
- She's still breathing, says Aeryn in a subdued voice. We're bringing her back immediately.
From the corridor, Stark was looking on in the infirmary, not making any noise who could have distracted Zhaan from her task. As the picture of the girl clears up on the clamshell, he steps in.
- She's a Féerian, he claims, excitedly. I've never seen one but I've been told about their gift.
- Which is? asks Chiana, always curious.
- They are great telepaths, says Stark, his eye shining with barely controlled excitement. The Féerians are very resilient, and can survive in almost unbearable conditions. Féeria is a beautiful world, very colourful, rich soil but no useful minerals. They trade with other worlds but they don't travel to the stars on their own. I've heard they were invaded twice, once by the Scarrans, who found that world too cold and left. The second time, the Smeeks attacked.
- Who are they? Never heard of them, says Chiana, almost mocking him.
- Oh, they are gone now, says Stark. They invaded a few worlds when their own planet became inhabitable. They were dying from a disease, not from the planet's warming. None survived, not even those who fled to other worlds.
+=+=+=+=+=+=+
D'argo gently puts down the unresponsive girl on the examination table, then exits the room quickly. As Zhaan administers first aid, Stark picks up a bit of white fluff that fell from D'argo's coat. He looks at it carefully, bringing it to a high intensity lamp then to the microscope. He can't decide if he should use it himself, so he waits until Chiana nudges Zhaan to look his way before speaking.
- I could be wrong, he says very calmly, but I think they're micropollens.
Zhaan has already installed a breathing mask on the girl, to clear up her lungs, and a feeding tube to help her rehydrate and as nourishment too, so she takes three long strides to come to the microscope, and looks into it.
- You are right, D'argo, she sighs heavily, straigtening up.
- What does it mean? ask Chiana. Oh, I see... Delvians.
She moves away, trying to hide her blunder under a sudden interest for a stack of colourful bottles on a metal rack.
- Yes, Chiana, says Zhaan, not looking at her but returning to the comatose girl. There were Delvians on board, and by the sheer quantity of micropollens Aeryn described, they all died from starvation.
Aeryn and D'argo have returned to the dead ship, accompanied by a very eager Rygel. Moya has agreed to the crew's idea to bring back in her belly all they can salvage, especially the metallic components she has more difficulty in recreating from scratch. Also, there could be equipment and weapons left by the crew which could be bartered away on commercial planet, and maybe, as Moya wishes, they could find what really happened. Her mother was old, but her death seems suspicious to her distraught daughter. And as for the Dominar, he hopes to find anything of value, maybe even corvinium from the metallic sheeting over the old Leviathan's neural system.
Before any useful work can be done, they need air to flush the micropollens out. Pilot guides them to connect air tubes. Then he suggests adding a few electric cables to give some light on their work, and help opening doors without having to torch their way through. Once this is done, he asks if they would connect Moya to the control board of the dead ship, so she could run through the files and retreive as many as possible.
That task is given to the smallest hands, but the Dominar doesn't see it this way. Using precious time for data retrieval will diminish his chances of finding corvinium. But D'argo has the last word, whispering into the fluffy ears something about stuffing his mivonks with lygel paste, a Delvian salve Zhaan keeps handy in her medicine cabinet. Rygel knows too well, by touching it inadvertantly, how painful lygel paste is to Hynerian skin. After that, Rygel finds the idea of helping out very appealing.
+=+=+=+=+=+=+
Zhaan starts by testing hair and skin for potential toxins. Then, she does a blood work to try to understand this strange colour changing skin. Finally, after a few arns, and a complete medical overview, and attentive wait, Zhaan smiles as the girl finally gets out of her coma. She stirs and starts to moan, visibly in pain. Zhaan injects a gentle herbal aenesthetic into the feeding tube, her hand shaking as she does so.
- Nervous? asks Chiana who has stayed to look over, even after Stark has been called to help on the dead ship.
- I have to be careful, that's all, whispers Zhaan, sighing as she returns the injector to the desk.
- Haven't you seen anyone like her before? teases Chiana, playfully.
As Zhaan shakes her head no, Chiana's happy mood vanishes. What Zhaan has done until now could help any sentient, breathing being, but the Delvian is entering unknown territories, treating someone from a race she hasn't even heard of before today.
- What can go wrong? asks Chiana, trying to sound cheerful.
- A mistake can kill her, says Zhaan very seriously, putting her hands together for a prayer.
- Doing nothing is even worse, says Chiana, faking aplomb. She was dying, and now she's waking up. Isn't that a good sign?
- Some species get a last burst of energy before dying, says Zhaan, dreamily. If I could find the cause of her pain...
She takes the long scan tube and passes it again over the sleeping girl. She goes over the data once, and then again, then starts to pray once more.
 |
- Wait a microt, says Chiana, pulling on the Delvian's sleeve. It's not like you, Zhaan. Aren't you supposed to tell me everything is fine?
- I can't lie, Chiana, answers Zhaan in her very soft voice. The Goddess will tell me what to do. Without her guidance, I'm helpless.
Chiana looks stunned. No, it's definitively not like the Zhaan she knows. Was she contaminated in some way by that girl? Is there a risk of infection in this room? Could there be something the scan hasn't picked up, something harmful, even lethal?
- You're scaring me, Zhaan, and I'm not lying either.
Zhaan smiles and puts her gloved hands together.
|
- You need to have faith in the Goddess, she says, closing her eyes. I have.
Annoyed, Chiana sighs heavily to show her discontempt, and goes to the clamshell.
- Any news from the ship, Pilot? she asks, turning her back on Zhaan.
The transmission comes directly from the dead ship, Aeryn, still in full space gear, minus the helmet, is seen amongst piles of metallic crates. Behind her, D'argo is moving them one by one to the transport pod, and Stark, at the edge of the image, has his hands in the air, seemingly talking to someone invisible to the others.
- I might have to send Stark back, says Aeryn, out of breath and perspiring heavily. He's no use in here.
Zhaan has turned to look at the clamshell, and takes a few steps forward.
- Yes Aeryn, send him to us, she says. We might need him in a few moments.
Aeryn nods, then the connection is severed. Chiana looks up to Zhaan.
- You want that girl to go totally farhbot seeing him raving like this? she asks, mimicking Stark's hands in the air.
- She is about to wake up, and yes, I could use him right here, says Zhaan, with much authority.
- For what?
Zhaan doesn't answer but goes back to the girl who has begun to stir in her sleep. As the girl opens her golden eyes, Zhaan takes off the breathing mask and puts her hand between the girl's breasts. The newcomer's opalescent skin changes colour from the bright yellows and salmons to subdued shades of blues and greens, then the overall motif ripples slightly, getting more colours as its moves, pinks and golden and then pale yellows. Chiana has come to her side, captivated by that unusual show of colours.
- What have you done? asks Chiana in a hush tone.
- I have taken her pain away.
- A Delvian trick?
- A gift from the Seek, corrects Zhaan, smiling at the girl, who is now totally awake and looking at her. I am Pa'u Zotoh Zhaan, a Delvian priestess, and this is Chiana, a Nebari. What is your name?
- Thäa, says the girl in a whispering voice. I've been told that you could do that, but I didn't believe it.
Zhaan blinks slowly, a sign she agrees. Even if there effectively was a Delvian on board that ship who wanted to help her, he or she would have needed a direct contact, something the cells prevented in any circumstances. As for an encounter in the corridors, the prisoners were too well garded for any close contact, whoever brief it might have been.
Thäa sits down, aided by Zhaan. Chiana sits down at the foot of the bed, her feet dangling, her gloved hands maintaining her balance at the rim of the metallic frame. Stark comes in the infirmary.
- A real Féerian, he whispers gleefully, hands extended like he wanted to grasp her. A live, real Féerian among us. I never thought I could see one.
Thäa doesn't seem bothered by the Banik's strange enthousiasm.
- How is it going over there? asks Chiana, putting one feet up to prevent Stark from actually touching the girl.
- All dead, all of them, so many... for nothing, says Stark, looking around him as though he was seeing them. They had no reason to die. Something's not right, no, not right at all.
- You're the one that's not right, laughs Chiana.
- No Chiana, says Stark, facing her and gesturing to mark his words. A prisoners' ship brings them safely to destination. Mecar Seven doesn't care for corpses!
- Unless the log lied about their destination, says Zhaan calmly.
- Why is the destination so important? asks Thäa, looking at Stark.
He looks down, ill at ease. There's something he's hiding and the three women sense it, but how to retreive information from a Banik is a harduous task. Push too hard, and he'll start ranting; you'll get nowhere.
As soon as she has spoken, Thäa takes a deep breath, and her hands cluch the rim of the bed. She closes her eyes on the pain, trying to hide it from that strange bunch. The burning sensation in her chest becomes a raging fire, surges of what feels like electric current storm through her brain downwards, to the tip of her fingers, to her chest, belly and legs. She can't breath. She can't think. She opens her mouth on air that can't get through her constricted lungs.
Unbeknowns to her, Zhaan has put her hand on her chest to take the pain away. As it passes from the small body to hers, Zhaan is stunned by the energy produced in this diminutive, frail body. She wasn't prepared for it and recoils, out of breath and dizzy. Stark catches her before she falls, and holds on to her until she has regains her composure.
It did helped Thäa who gives her a guilt-ridden look and turns away, in shame.
- Are you hurt? asks Stark, looking very concern at Zhaan's reaction.
Zhaan shakes her head no, then breathes deeply to cleanse her body from that pain. As soon as Stark lets her stand on her own, she turns back to the girl.
- Does it come often? she asks softly.
 |
- From half an arn to four arns in between, whispers Thäa, unable to witstand her inquisitive pale blue gaze. It's not regular. I never know when it's coming, nor for how long.
- Then it is imperative that we end this as soon as possible, says Zhaan, showing more confidence than she had all day long.
Zhaan goes to the microscope to look at some bloodwork as Rygel, Aeryn and D'argo come back from the dead ship. The Luxan stops in front of the door.
- Anyone in here cares to join us? asks D'argo, from the corridor, looking at Zhaan and Chiana but avoiding Stark and the new girl completely.
|
- No, sweet D'argo, not tonight, says Zhaan, taking a microt to lift her head to smile at him. I've got too much work to do.
- I'll bring you something, says Chiana, exiting the room, following D'argo.
Aeryn takes a step backward to let her pass, then comes closer to the bed. Thäa has been given more of Zhaan's herbal sedative, a stronger dose by the dazed look she gives Aeryn. Then, as the Peacekeeper's space suit comes into clear focus, the Féerian recoils in fear.
- Don't worry, says Stark, patting her arm. She has borrowed the suit, but she's one of us.
Aeryn gives him a reproachful look, then stands in front of the bed.
- I'm Aeryn Sun... a Sebacean, she says as gently as the others have ever heard her talk.
- Thäa knows we are friends, says Zhaan.
Aeryn's look hardens as the Delvian speak.
- Do you eat meat? she asks Thäa. We have plenty now.
Thäa nods, as Zhaan looks on, surprised.
An arn later, Chiana comes back with the midmeal, on a tray. Thäa gets a bowl of soup, with small pieces of meat and rehydrated vegetables floating in the broth. Zhaan gets a most generous portion, without the broth, and a white piece of what looks like a tentacle.
- Rygel said you would like it, says Chiana.
Zhaan takes her plate, staring at the squid-like creature next to the meat.
- How come...?
+=+=+=+=+=+=+
DAY TWO
The light meal helps the sedative kick in. Thäa sleeps the whole night as Zhaan keeps a vigil, praying for guidance. A few arns before Moya's lights are to brighten, indicating 'day-time' in space, Zhaan comes out of her transe with a possible answer. She looks on to her patient and finds her fast asleep. With a quick prayer, she runs out of the infirmary to get the supplies she needs from her room.
Zhaan prayed for Thäa to sleep until she returns. Sadly, this prayer wasn't granted.
Thäa wakes up a few microts after Zhaan's departure. The sedative doesn't work anymore and the same overwhelming pain hits her once again. It's been so long since she's been completely free of pain, it comes back with a vengeance, taking her completely unaware and thus, stronger than before. Panting for breath, Thäa manages to sit up. She looks around through tearfilled eyes and finds herself alone.
- Connect, she whispers.
She's not stuck in a cell anymore, she can move around and find what she needs. She takes a breath, then swings her legs over the rim of the bed. With her hands firmly holding that rim, she pushes herself out of bed, falling on her knees and hands.
- Connect, she repeats to give herself courage.
Pulling herself to her feet would take too much time, too much energy. She crawls on all four to the closest wall and touches the soft, warm and pliant membrane of Moya's wall.
"This is a living ship", thinks Thäa, "I should be able to connect to it, like with any living being!"
Sadly, the pain doesn't go away, and she sits down as close as she can to the wall, putting as much of her body in contact with the ship, pressing her hands firmly to its living surface. Desperate for release, she starts to cry.
- Poor child, exclaims Zhaan, knealing down next to Thäa. Come back to bed, my dear.
She carries her in her arms and puts her down gently onto the bed she just left. Thäa has stopped crying. Her rigid body has become very supple the moment Zhaan touched her and she's sighing in relief as her head hits the pillow. The Delvian looks at her in disbelief. She has none nothing, and yet, the pain seems to have passed on its own.
- Goddess help me, what I have I done? mutters the Delvian.
Thäa is so wrapped up in blissful relief, she doesn't utter a word. Zhaan waits a few microts and still getting no answer, she goes back to the door to retreive what she has brought in and left in her hurry. The few colourful bottles had fallen from her hands but the caps were tight, and nothing spilled out. The blue fabric is a bit crumpled, but the short tunic will surely be an improvement on what Thäa is wearing right now.
Zhaan passes the scan rod over Thäa before returning to her bottles. She mixes some fluids, quickly, then shakes the little vial before pouring it into a cup. As she comes near the bed, Thäa is sitting again. When she sees Zhaan's gloves hands, she sighs and looks down.
- Don't worry, says Zhaan, giving the cup to drink. I have tested it. It will not have any adverse effect on your metabolism.
- Sedative? asks Thäa, then gulps it down before Zhaan has time to answer.
- A synaptic inhibitor, says Zhaan. It will not stop the attacks, but dull your body's response without putting you to sleep.
- Always the big words, laughs Chiana as she comes in with a tray of food. I hope you don't mind liquids. I think Rygel snatched all the meat out.
Zhaan can't help but laugh at the mental image of that meal. Yes, it's Rygel way: Stuffing his face like he had been starving for a cycle! Thäa would have benefited from a bit of meat in her broth, but skipping it for one meal won't impaired her health.
- Have you got the medical files from Pilot yet? asks Chiana as she gives Zhaan her own bowl. He said he still has access to the dead ship's memory banks, not all, but a few of them. PILOT?
She turns to face the clamshell, then getting no answer, she goes and screams his name into it.
- ... Only the medical files from the crew, Chiana, he answers. I'm still working on the others.
- So, you were listening on us, were you? asks Chiana, with her usual playfulness.
- As I was instructed, says Pilot, offended by this remark. We all need to be in contact as the sector isn't secured.
- So, why don't we move away from this sector? asks Chiana, teasing him a bit more.
- Transferring the cargo would be faster if you went to help, says Pilot, seemingly very busy with his controls.
- Are you implying she's doing nothing in here? asks Zhaan, getting into Chiana's game.
Pilot cuts the transmission abruptly, and both Chiana and Zhaan end up laughing. Meanwhile, Thäa has been very interested in her bowl. Food taste better when there's no more pain to distract her. Zhaan takes her spoon and drops it as Thäa howls in sudden pain. Her own empty bowl crashes to the ground and both Chiana and Zhaan rush to her side.
- I thought it would last longer, sighs Zhaan, putting her gloved hand on the girl's chest to spiritually will her pain away.
This time, she expects the full blast of it, and doesn't recoil as it hits her.
- You can't do that every time! exclaims Chiana, wide-eyed.
- As often as I need to, says Zhaan, out of breath.
- Killing yourself trying to save a life isn't smart, Zhaan! Surely, you can come up with something better!
 |
Rygel floats in, a metal pipe in his small hand. Seeing it, Thäa panicks and tries to get out of bed. Chiana holds on to her, trying desperately to pin her down on the thin mattress. Zhaan goes to Rygel, and snatches the pipe from his hand.
- What were you thinking, bringing this here? she snaps at him angrily.
- Tell it as it is, growls Rygel, trying to look important. You would prefer me dead than rich. That's why you're denying me your pelvoth oil.
Zhaan eyes him worrily.
- Rich on stolen garbage, Your Highness? she asks, suspicious. |
- Rich on corvinium, he answers as roughly. Old Leviathans need it as insulation. You should know that. Why do you keep the oil if not...
- For corvinium poisoning, she cuts in. You know it's lethal for half the species in the known universe.
- Sadly, not Delvians, he sighs under his breath, only loud enough so Zhaan can hear him.
Thäa as settled down, to Chiana's relief. As soon as she hears about corvinium, she understands her mistake. The Peacekeepers shock-stick look strangely like the pipe the little green guy is holding, but it certainly wouldn't be made from an expensive and rare metal, even a toxic one. If they were so valuable, how come every soldier on her ship had one? Zhaan turns her head to the bed, and seeing Thäa calmed down, she enjoys this little break.
- Is that the best you can do, Rygel? she asks, mockingly. The others are breaking their back in the cargo bay and...
- And you're there to put them back together if they get hurt, spits Rygel, trying to take the pipe back. Now, I need some of your so precious pelvoth oil, then I'll be out of your breathing space in half a microt.
- What will you give me in exchange? asks Zhaan, still holding fast upon the pipe.
- Would an halionic radlamp do it? asks back the little Dominar with a gleeful smile across his face.
- A WHAT? exclaims Zhaan.
- You heard me right, Delvian, says Rygel, snatching the pipe as Zhaan is too stunned to react. Stark has agreed to put a new motor in. It could be ready before night... if I get my pelvoth oil.
Zhaan nods and points to the table, sure that Rygel already knows where to find it.
- I'll tell Stark to get working on it, says the Dominar as he floats to the table.
- You weren't freed, you're escaped prisoners, mutters Thäa.
- What makes you think that? asks Chiana, jumping onto the end of the bed like she did the previous day.
- I've been told about those lamps, whispers Thäa. There were many Delvians around me, and they told me none of them would have gone from their home without one, because space is dark and unhealty. They need some kind of... sun.
- Yeah, sun, laughs Chiana quietly. I'm not sure you got the whole picture on that one.
Zhaan returns to her own table and starts another batch of medication, measuring, heating, adding powders and liquids to it, until she's satisfied with the results. Rygel has exited with a grunt, finding no corvinium in his pipe.
- I've been caught in the wrong bed a couple of times, says Chiana, but I'm no prisoner, except to my own lust. I'm as free as can be.
She looks at Thäa to see what effect her words had on her. The girl didn't blink.
- Maybe what you need isn't in a potion, the Nebari goes on, with her most charming smile.
- Not now, Chiana, says Zhaan, bringing her latest concoction to the bed.
+=+=+=+=+=+=+
To keep his promise, Rygel needs a new motor, and Stark is the perfect candidate to put it in the lamp. Could he hop on the next transporter, search for one and bring it back himself? No, a Dominar wouldn't do such menial work, and Stark hasn't been allowed back on the dead ship.
Thinking hard, Rygel comes up with a solution. He comms D'argo and asks him to bring back one of the shock-sticks from the dead ship, stating that Zhaan needs it for one of her experiment.
It works. The Luxan is already too tired to ask questions, and seeing Stark waiting for him at the docking bay only pleases him. He won't have to deliver the small device himself and be close to that strange little girl. Of course, he could be suspicious of Stark's smile as he gives it to him, but no, he doesn't even noticed it. A perfect plan... as always.
+=+=+=+=+=+=+
From one potion to the next, the pain surges seem to lessen. Chiana sighs with relief. She was getting a bit scared at Zhaan's reaction when she took the pain away. It seemed to affect her so much, if only for an instant. What would they do if she fell ill too?
Chiana leaves the infirmary only to help prepare the midmeal for everyone. She likes to cook, especially with all the compliments she gets from it. And getting some food in the blue girl won't hurt either. She's starting to like that old gal, even if she has a way to gets on her nerves. So protective, so motherly... Chiana has to make more and more efforts to push her away when the Delvian is trying to help. If would be so nice to have a real mother, an older friend, someone trustworthy and resourceful to relate to when times get rough. Maybe if she let the Blue One have her way, she would experience what she had dreamed about for so long.
- Crying over a meal doesn't make it taste better, says D'argo as he enters the kitchen.
- How come you never went in to see Thäa? she snaps back at him, her anger coming from nowhere.
- You heard Stark, answers D'argo, on the defensive. Féerians are telepaths. I don't trust people who can mess with my mind.
- You trust Zhaan, don't you?
D'argo smiles worrily. He opens his mouth, but doesn't find the right words. He sighs, looks around and is about to leave the kitchen when he decides about what he wants to say:
- It might not look like it, but part of me never will.
Zhaan doesn't join them for the meal. She takes it in the infirmary, with the sick girl. Afterwards, when Moya's lights dim, she sits down next to the bed, watching over the girl's sleep, praying, meditating, asking the Goddess for guidance. Sleep comes unannounced, and she slumps down on the girl's legs, exhausted.
+=+=+=+=+=+=+
DAY THREE
When Thäa wakes up, expecting pain, there's none. Then, she sees Zhaan slumped over her, asleep, the blue face touching her naked legs. She sits up very slowly and looks on, intrigued and fascinated by the blues and golds of the Delvian's markings. She wonders if people stare at her for the same reason, a different skin colour, an alien shade, strange patterns.
She has seen many Delvians aboard the prisoners's ship, but she never took time to really look at them. She remembers the gracious moves, the agile hands, the soft, caring look this Delvian had. This one is different from all the others she met before. This blue woman doesn't have to comply with harsh rules, be afraid of undeserved punishment. She's free to go, to do as she pleases, and yet, when Thäa looked deeply in her eyes, yesterday, she saw pain deeply hidden away, a great suffering that time wouldn't heal.
The blue eyelids flutter and the eyes stare back at her for a microt. The head lifts up, the hand comes to caress the muticoloured cheek. They both smile at each other.
- Have you slept well? asks Zhaan, as her ungloved fingers linger on the soft colour-changing skin.
Thäa nods, unable to utter a word. This touch is all she needed to free herself from the pain. Why can't she tell the blue woman? Why is she so afraid that this simple knowledge will turn back on her? Perhaps she has been burnt too many times to touch the cold embers again. How many Delvians in the past told her they could help, only to turn against her in the most hurtful way? Yes, they were prisoners, like her. But she never saw one before her capture. Is that their usual way, gaining the trust so they could inflict even more pain? Or were they pushed to it, hardened hearts caused by too much suffering, and too little hope?
As Zhaan sits up, Pilot appears on the clamshell.
- Zhaan, is Chiana with you?
- No, Pilot, says Zhaan, looking around to make sure. Can I help?
- No, Zhaan. D'argo has asked for Chiana because she's the smallest one, and no one else, with agile hands, will fit in the atmospheric mix line.
- I could do it, says Thäa, getting up to show how much better she feels. I'm smaller than Chiana. I would fit in.
- I won't have you back on that ship, says Zhaan, holding her by the arm.
- Oh, says Pilot, looking away for an instant. Chiana has arrived on the ship. I'm sorry for disturbing you.
- Pilot, why do you need someone in that tube? asks Zhaan. YOU are the one sending air over there.
Pilot sighs.
- Moya feels her mother didn't passed away from old age, and she's determined to find why she died. Some of her systems were tampered with. Moya fears poison was used and she needs samples to test.
- The Peacekeepers wouldn't kill their own transport vessel; it's ludicrous! exclaims Zhaan, going to the clamshell.
- Her neural system was overloaded, says Pilot. That's what Moya has discovered when she took the ship's logs. Now she's retreiving the Peacekeepers own data. I'll get back to you on what she has found.
The small transport ship that took Chiana away brought Stark on its way back in. He comes to the infirmary, holding one arm with the other.
- I had to go back... to help, he says looking at his injured arm. The integrity of the hull is deteriorating. I have to return as soon as possible.
- Let me look at this, says Zhaan, going back to her screening scan she left on an empty bed, near Thäa's own. Come and sit down here.
As he was passing near Thäa, the girl touches his injured arm and the Banik looks at her, wide-eyed. Zhaan has seen it, but says nothing. As Stark sits on the bed, she passes the scan over his arm once, then again. She stretches the arm, and Stark smiles, feeling no pain.
- It was broken, I swear it was! he exclaims gleefully.
Zhaan turns her head to Thäa, who looks down in shame.
- I can't help it, the girl says. I'm a Féebanchee.
- The touch that heals! exclaims Stark, getting down of the bed in a hurry to come to the girl.
His hands hover above Thäa's own, with febrility, almost touching them. The girl looks down shyly, like she's been caught doing something nasty. Zhaan comes and puts her hand on Stark's shoulder. He folds his arms on his chest, like he was protecting a cherished gift, and looks at the Delvian.
- There are so few of them, so preciously few, he says reverently. Seeing one is already a life's blessing.
- No, THAT is, says Thäa, kissing him lightly on his unmasked cheek.
Stark gasps, overjoyed. Floating in, Rygel looks at them, disgusted.
- Next, they'll be making babies, he grunts audibly.
Not slowing down, he floats to the table where the pelvoth oil is kept, another pipe in his hand.
- By the way, Zhaan, he says roughly, the lamp is in your room. You should hire a servant. It's a mess in there. I hardly found an empty spot large enough to put it.
- What did you steal this time? asks Zhaan, not trusting him to come out of her room empty handed.
- Accusing me of stealing? says Rygel, irritated at this remark. I gave you a priceless, and most desired object, and you accuse me of...
- You took something, admit it, she says, folding her arms on her chest.
- There's nothing of value in your room, you selfish blue tralk, says the Dominar angrily.
Zhaan smiles, turning her back on him.
- He found nothing to his taste, she whispers to Thäa. That's why he's so grumpy.
Rygel puts a drop of oil on his pipe, hisses as the liquid doesn't turn the right colour then hovers away.
- Come on, Stark, we don't have all day! he shouts with much condescension.
The Banik runs after him, whispering a very heartfelt thank you to Thäa and Zhaan as he goes. Pilot comms back on the clamshell.
- Zhaan, I hate to ask you this, but can you break the codes for us? Moya has retreive more data, but she can't make any sense of it. I think the files might be corrupted or coded. We don't know which.
- I'll be right there, says Zhaan, takimg Thäa by the arm. You're coming with me, child. I don't want you to be alone when the pain comes back.
- I feel fine, assures Thäa, who mentally swears against that long dress Zhaan gave her.
If only the Delvian has brought her one without long sleeves, she could have skin contact without having to ask for it! What will she do when the pain comes back? But then, can she trust someone who evidently know Peacekeeper coding?
Zhaan pushes the only chair in the room next to the main console, and taps on it. Thäa sits down, obedient, and for the moment, pain free. She doesn't mind looking up at the Delvian's work. It's strange seeing someone typing so fast her hands become a blur.
- No, Pilot, says Zhaan, very concentrated on her typing, those files aren't corrupted. There, one is decoded. How many do we have?
- Three hundred fifty seven medical files are still blocked, says Pilot, looking worried. Maybe if we find a source code, Moya could go through all the variables for the other files.
- Source codes, yes. I remember them.
Thäa shifts her weight to the edge of the seat. No, it's not good. Staying near someone who knows the source codes is even worse than a rule-following soldier. This blue woman is probably still working for the Peacekeepers. Who else would know such secrets? Why is she trying to help her? Has she been instructed to transfer all living prisoners from the dead ship to this one?
Slowly, Thäa moves away from the console. She manages to get to the door before anyone has noticed. Then, she follows the heat pattern on the wall, barely touching it as she moves fast. There should be a connect grid every ten metras. That's how the other Leviathan worked. Why can't she find one in here? Moya is young. Maybe she needs less of those to regulate her neural functions, but there should at least be one on every tier.
Out of breath, and beginning to feel the first tinge of pain in her chest, Thäa stops at a junction panel. It's not a neural feeder, but it could do just the same if she finds the right biomechanical nerves. She fumbles with the panel, breaking a nail on it, then pinching a finger between two vibrating coils. Yes, she thinks, this is a nerve ending. It should work.
Gasping for breath, almost unable to stand up because of the seering pain in her chest, Thäa pushes hard to break the slippery white cord. Then, clenching her teeth on the burn, she pushes the sharp ending in her wrist. The burn is almost as worse as the pain inside her, but she's desperate for release.
+=+=+=+=+=+=+
In command, Zhaan is still working fast on the controls. Pilot interrupts her with a light hum. Zhaan stops and looks up.
- Moya has detected a breach in her neural system, he says. I'm sending a DRD to evaluate the damage and the source.
Zhaan looks at the seat and gasps as she finds it empty.
- Pilot! she exclaims, it's Thäa! Find her, quick!
Relying on her badge to guide her, she follows the instructions as soon as Pilot gives them. After running through three corridor, she comes to a dead end.
- Pilot! she yells in her comm badge. It can't be right! She's not here!
- Hamman side, corrects Pilot. A DRD has found her. The damage to Moya is minimal but the girl is unconscious.
Zhaan runs down the same passageway she came in and turns at the junction, finding Thäa lying on the floor, pale yellowish blood dripping from her wrist, a sizzling coil wraped around it. Zhaan yanks the coil away, pulls the arm up and presses above the wound, to stop the blood.
Thäa opens her eyes. As soon as Zhaan touched her, the pain stopped. She looks down at her wrist, at the blue hand pressing down on her flesh, and sighs in relief.
- Contact, she says, smiling.
Zhaan sits down and takes the girl in her arms, craddling her to her bosom.
- Poor child, what is it you are so desperately trying to do, end your life?
- Connect... to Moya, whispers Thäa, looking up at the concerned blue face. It's what you want too, isn't it?
- No, breathes Zhaan, shocked. No one can do that! It would kill you!
- Peacekeepers want it, to fuel their ship, says Thäa, not able to withstand the blue gaze on her. You know, you're working for them.
Zhaan understands why the girl ran away. She caresses the soft, waist length, silvery hair as she speaks:
- NO, I worked at a Peacekeepers communication center on a mining asteroid, she explains. I was a prisoner there. We managed to get rid of Moya's control collar. We're free now.
Zhaan's eyes lit up as she said the last words.
- Control, repeats Thäa in a sad voice. That's how they kept me.. under control. I can't free myself. My body can't manage my gift anymore.
- Your healing power?
Thäa nods, then rests her head on Zhaan's chest, crying. The comm badge beeps. Zhaan actions it.
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