Originally posted 5/26/07Yes, this is offering number two from me for the Sixteenth Starburst Challenge (John or Aeryn teaching their child something of which the other parent doesn't approve)! I should probably have posted this first, LOL, the other one is much funnier (and shorter), but I wanted it to percolate a little longer!
This is set in my post-BT universe, where there's no canonical D'Argo -- So this version of the Sun-Crichton family is best-represented in my "A Day in the Life"/"Fallout" fics. In fact, this is kind of a prequel to
Fallout 7, but you definitely don't need to have read that story to read this.
Rating: G
Setting: About 12 cycles post-BT
Spoilers: None really
Disclaimer: Not my universe, not my characters, no money being made -- but I sure still love to play with them. What a testament to the creators!
Thanks very much to imloco2, shipsister, and MadScientist for beta duties. I must have changed the ending 4 times, LOL!
And Toto, Too
Olivia Sun Crichton, age 8, stalked through Moya’s corridors aimlessly. She was feeling bored and out of sorts. She had an arn or two to kill before her family gathered in the galley to prepare their evening meal, and she had no idea what she wanted to do. She knew she
didn’t want to stand around and be ignored while her father and her little sister Merry talked about wormholes. She’d never understand how a kid six cycles old could think wormholes were
interesting! Her older brother TJ, who was 11, was on a prowler kick. Their mother was teaching him how to fly, and that was all he wanted to talk about. She didn’t want to hear about
that either. Teej was probably up on the terrace right now, looking out at space and pretending he was flying. She made a face, and deliberately climbed
down the next access ladder she came to, instead of
up. And if she complained to her mother that she didn’t know what to do, she’d just end up with extra target practice, or something equally stupid. “You need to be prepared to defend yourself, Olivia,” her mother would say. “I hope you never have to shoot anyone” – Mom
always said that when she talked about shooting – “but we live in an uncertain universe. It’s a necessary skill!” As if that made target practice any more fun!
No, Livvy was not a happy girl.
She stopped just inside the docking bay, where she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the shiny metal side of a storage box. Gray eyes looked back at her when she looked at the image. There was a scowl on her angular face, which looked even more narrow than usual because her light brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Like her parents and her siblings, she wore black leather pants. Bor-ing! Her pink T-shirt was a favorite, though, and that
almost brought a smile to her lips. Still, there wasn’t anything to do in here, and she sighed dramatically and turned to leave.
As she pivoted on the ball of one foot, she heard a funny squeaking sound. It was unusual enough to stop her in her tracks. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something dark move among the pile of boxes from their last trip to a commerce planet. Intrigued, she held very still. She played her eyes over the boxes, trying to see if whatever it was would move again. It was probably a DRD, but it might not be. After all, DRDs were yellow, and what she thought she saw was more like black or brown. And the noise that had stopped her hadn’t sounded like an “oilcan” squeak; it had almost sounded like the sound Merry made when you snuck up behind her playing hide and seek.
When nothing further happened, she stopped playing statue, and turned so she could get a better view of the pile of crates. She saw boxes, boxes, and more boxes, most with labels describing their contents. Right in the middle, though, she saw an odd, lumpy-looking shadow. She took two steps closer to the heap, when the shadow suddenly exploded! Livvy gasped and jerked backward as whatever it was went straight up into the air, and then glided to the deck about three motras away from her. “What the frell?” she yelped, and then winced, because she wasn’t supposed to use that word. She deactivated her comms, hoping that no one had heard her, and turned her attention to the creature she’d found.
It was about the size of a basketball, all huddled up on the floor. Its fur was mostly gray with a few black stripes, and it was watching her with large, black-rimmed eyes that looked scared. Feeling sorry for the critter, she crouched down so she didn’t look so big and said softly, “Hey! It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.”
The critter cocked its head and contemplated her.
Pleased that it hadn’t run off – or flown off, since it seemed to be able to fly – Livvy tried again. Keeping the same soothing tone, she asked, “Where did you come from, huh? Did you get into a supply box somehow?”
The animal uncurled a little bit, and she could see that it had a long, fuzzy tail, ringed in black and white. It opened its pointed snout, and spoke.
Livvy nearly fell over backwards, because she could have
sworn it had spoken real words. “Did you
talk?” she gasped.
The creature chittered again, and again she heard, “Where me?”
Stunned, and completely enchanted, she said, “You’re on Moya. She’s a leviathan, and we live on her.”
But the little creature only repeated, “Where me?”
Livvy patted the deck. “Moya,” she said firmly. “You’re on Moya with my family. You must have gotten lost.” With a pang, she wondered if the little guy was missing his family, and if his family was missing him. How terrible that would be! “It’s okay,” she told him again, settling down on the deck and folding her legs in front of her. She patted the floor, hoping he’d come closer.
To her delight, he loped over, tail held straight behind him. As he moved, she could see that his arms and legs were webbed. Maybe he didn’t really fly, maybe he glided, she thought. He stopped just out of her reach, and cocked his head again and looked her up and down. Just as she was about to lean forward and touch him, a shadow appeared in the room from behind her, and her new friend backed up just a little.
“Olivia! Get away from that thing right now!” her father’s voice commanded.
* * * * * * * *
Standing in the doorway of the docking bay, looking at his obviously unharmed daughter, John Crichton willed his heart to stop pounding in fright. The kids were old enough these days that he and Aeryn generally considered Moya a safe place for them to wander, but when Pilot had suddenly lost Olivia’s comms signal, both parents had freaked out good and proper. John had been closer, and had gotten there first, but Aeryn wouldn’t be far behind.
“But
Da-ddy,” Livvy exclaimed without moving a dench, apparently oblivious to his order to get away from the goddamn frelling critter. “He’s not dangerous! He’s just scared! I think he got stuck in one of our boxes by accident!” She waved towards the stack of crates from their last supply run.
Still coming down from the adrenaline rush, John waved a hand at his number one daughter indicating that she should just hold her horses for a few microts. He activated his comms and called, “Aeryn, she’s fine, babe. You can slow down.”
“You’re sure?”
He rolled his eyes. “No, I’m just telling you that she’s fine so that when it turns out she’s not, you’ll take it outta my hide!” His smart remark was met with an ominous silence from his beloved wife and the mother of his children.... While he was trying to think of how to get his foot out of his mouth, he saw Livvy’s critter make a cautious move towards the girl. Not nearly as confident of its motives as Liv seemed to be, he cut off the conversation with Aeryn with a mental promise to make it up to her. “Gotta go, babe. We’re in the docking bay. Just don’t come in guns blazing, okay?”
“If I do, I’ll be aiming at
you,” Aeryn snapped, before cutting the connection.
John stepped protectively closer to his daughter, and then forced himself to just watch her and her newfound friend without interfering – unless or until there should be some obvious danger. Livvy sat perfectly still as the raccoon-faced creature came closer, two steps forward, one step back. Something in the little guy’s nervousness won John’s sympathies. Surely if it were planning to attack, it would have just jumped her?
“It’s okay,” Livvy soothed, holding her hand out. “You’ll be safe with us.”
“Livvy, be careful,” John interjected, caution overcoming his sympathy. “That thing might bite!”
Olivia rolled her eyes dramatically. “Daddy! I
told you,” she said, “he’s just
lost! He misses his
family!”
“Maybe so, darlin’, but you don’t know that. You’re just guessing.”
“He hasn’t done one thing to hurt me!” She shook her head and reached out towards the animal again and spoke to it soothingly.
She certainly wasn’t scared. John had to admit that was a fairly good sign. He looked at the critter again, and realized it was watching Livvy closely when she talked, as if it were trying to figure out what she’d said. Aw, that was really cute! His grandpa’s old setter Red used to act like that.... John relaxed a little more, only to almost jump through the roof when the critter opened its mouth and spoke! “Hungry!”
Olivia didn’t seem to find this odd, so apparently it wasn’t the first time the animal had used words. “Poor little thing! What do you eat?” she asked.
The critter looked at her mournfully, and repeated, “Hungry!” He didn’t seem to have much of a vocabulary....
“I need to know what you eat before I can get you food,” Livvy said, her gray eyes anxious. But the animal just came forward without speaking and laid his head in her lap. She looked up at her dad. “I can understand him,” she said in frustration, “but I don’t think he understands me!”
Watching them, John had been thinking the same thing, and wondering why. Despite being able to produce actual words, John got the feeling that their stowaway wasn’t much smarter than a dog, or maybe a cat. Definitely a critter, not a sentient being. But if the animal could produce words, surely it should be able to understand them. The answer came to him in a flash – they were speaking a foreign language. “I don’t think he has translator microbes, Liv. You do, so that’s why you can tell what he’s saying.”
“Can we give them to him?”
John opened his mouth and spoke without thinking. “Well, if you’re going to keep him, I guess that would be handy.”
Livvy’s eyes widened in surprise. “I could keep him?” she asked, as if the thought had never entered her head.
It probably never had, he thought, feeling suddenly guilty about the earth childhood she and the other kids weren’t having. Impulsively, seeing the rapport she’d already built with the critter, whatever it was, he said, “Well, when I was a kid, I always had a dog or two, and I sure loved them. We’d have to make sure Moya’s an okay place for this little guy to live, and that he’s not going to grow up to be a man eater” – Olivia scowled at that and scooped the critter up into her lap – “but I think maybe it would be nice to have a pet around here.” Aeryn was going to kill him for this one, he thought, but he was rewarded by the huge smile that lit up Livvy’s face from ear to ear, and he put that worry aside for now. Hoping he wasn’t putting the cart before the horse, he suggested, “Well, if you’re going to keep him, he should have a name.”
“Keep what?”
John and Olivia whipped their heads around to see Aeryn standing in the doorway, gazing at them questioningly. Her voice and their movement evidently startled the raccoon-thing, because it leaped out of Livvy’s arms and into the air, gliding back towards the stack of crates.
Olivia scrambled after it, calling, “Wait, it’s okay, it’s just my mom!”
John looked at his wife and shook his head. “Damn, I didn’t know it could do that. It looks like Rocky the Flying Squirrel!”
With a scowl, Aeryn demanded, “Where the frell did that weersa come from?”
* * * * * * * *
After quickly surveying the occupants of the bay – John, Olivia, and one small vermin eater – Aeryn crossed her arms and glared at her mate. She’d been right to be suspicious of his tone on the comms, though Olivia was clearly safe, for which she was profoundly grateful.
John tried a winning smile. “You know what that critter is?”
“Everyone knows what it is,” she said grimly.
“So, um, it’s not dangerous, is it?”
“It’s a little late asking that now, isn’t it?” she demanded, nodding towards their daughter, who was now sitting on one of the supply crates, cuddling the young weersa in her arms and speaking to it softly. John looked suitably chastised, and she relented just a little. “It’s...not exactly a symbiote, but they often live in the holds of cargo ships. They can be useful in keeping the trill bat population down.”
Olivia piped up from her perch. “He eats trill bats?”
“Yes. And other small creatures, and fruit.”
“Daddy said I could keep him for a pet!”
“I’m sure he did,” Aeryn murmured, not bothering to keep the irritation from her voice. How typical of John to tell their daughter she could keep a creature he knew nothing about! For all he knew, it could have been venomous! She scowled at him and was just starting to tell him what she thought of that when Olivia interrupted.
“Mom,” she begged, “he’s hungry. Can I take him to the lower tiers to catch some trill bats?”
“No, you may not.”
“But Mom, he’s—“
Aeryn sighed. “Take the creature to the galley and give him some prousa fruit and some dunnpeas.” John looked at her with wide eyes, apparently surprised she was proposing to feed a helpless creature. Stung, she stiffened under his gaze, and explained with as much dignity as she could muster, “If he’s been here since our last supply run, he’s probably too weak for effective hunting. We shouldn’t let him starve. He’s our responsibility.” She turned her attention back to her daughter. “So, go get him a meal,” she told her sternly. “We’ll come and see how you’re doing in a little while.”
“Yes, sir,” Olivia said, struggling to hold back a smile of victory. Clutching her “pet” in her arms, she hopped off the crate and trotted out of the docking bay without a backwards glance, the weersa’s long ringed tail waving behind her.
“And some water!” Aeryn called after her.
“Okay!” Olivia called back.
When their daughter was out of earshot, Aeryn turned to John. “Why did you tell her she could keep that creature?”
“Aw, come on, Aeryn. You saw her with it. She’s already crazy about it, and the darned thing seems to like her too!”
“I have eyes, John, I can see that. But what’s the point in keeping a living creature as a pet?”
“It’s a typical kid thing.” He flung his arms wide. “It followed me home....”
“Can I keep it?” she finished for him, remembering the plea from some story or other that he’d told over the cycles. Then a thought struck her and she snorted. “Isn’t that how you ended up with me?”
John grinned at her. “That wasn’t such a bad deal, was it?”
“No,” she admitted. She could feel herself weakening, which made her all the more annoyed.
He sobered up and said, “It’ll be good for her.” He ticked his points off on his fingers: “Having a pet teaches responsibility, and concern for others. Empathy. Besides, they can play together. She’ll have fun.” As an apparent afterthought, he added, “Did you know they talk?”
“They have rudimentary communication skills, yes.”
“Well this one needs translator microbes.”
She gazed at him for a long time, taking in the softness around his mouth, the enthusiasm in his blue eyes. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
He looked inside himself, considering, and finally nodded. “Yep. I loved my dogs, Aeryn. Every single one of them. Having pets was one of the great experiences of my childhood. Livvy’s already halfway crazy about this thing. I don’t know if TJ or Merry would’a taken to it like she did if they’d been the one to find it, but....this will be good for her. She’ll have a friend besides her brother and sister. Something special that’s hers.”
Aeryn sighed. She’d never understand the human concept of a pet, even after several visits to John’s homeworld, but, as potential pets went, this one was probably one of the least offensive. Weersas weren’t very messy, weren’t fussy eaters, and had the same environmental requirements as Sebaceans. That was one reason they were often found on cargo ships. “I suppose we could do with a reduction in the trill bat population,” she allowed, a faint smile tugging at her mouth.
“I’ll go check on Livvy and this...weersa,” he said. He was halfway out the door when he paused and looked back. “They really eat trill bats?”
“They do.”
He shook his head. “Never had a dog that actually ate what it caught. This is going to be interesting.”
Aeryn rolled her eyes and shooed him out of the room. When he was gone, she thought back on Olivia’s glowing face, and her gentleness with a creature she’d only just met. Maybe this would be a good idea, after all.
At least it wasn’t a breeding pair!
* * * * * * * *
Having completely forgotten that just an arn before she’d been bored, bored, bored out of her mind, Livvy sat cross-legged on her bed and giggled as her new pet ambled cautiously around her room. The weersa had gobbled his food down in a way that would have gotten
her a reprimand, his tiny seven-fingered hands snatching slice after slice of fruit, and then he’d lapped up a whole bowl of water. He hadn’t been very happy when her dad stuck him with an injector of translator microbes, though, and she’d had to soothe him a lot to make him feel better. But she guessed the microbes worked okay, because he’d squeaked happily and followed her when she’d told him to come on. Now, Livvy could tell he was trying to pretend he wasn’t watching her father set up a box for his bed.
At last her dad stood up and said, “Okay, champ. This here’s your bed.” After a look over at Livvy, the critter scooted over and started checking out the box. Livvy followed him and watched the inspection up close. He climbed in and sat down, curling his tail around him. Next, he patted the metal sides of the box, his claws making a rhythmic clicking sound with each pat. Then he put his nose down and sniffed the soft foam pad at the bottom.
Standing behind her, her dad asked, “So, Livvy, have you picked a name for him yet?”
She shook her head. She’d forgotten all about that. She gave her father a sheepish smile.
“A pet’s gotta have a name, kiddo,” he said. “You can’t just keep saying, ‘Hey, you’!”
It occurred to her that maybe her weersa already
had a name. “Wouldn’t his mother have called him something?”
Her dad looked pretty skeptical, but he just shrugged and said, “Well, why don’t you ask him, then?”
So, she did. She got down on her knees next to the box, and when the little furry guy looked up at her, she said, “What’s your name?” She could have sworn he wrinkled up his face and frowned. Disappointed at the reaction, Livvy looked back at her dad. “I thought his translator microbes were
working!”
Her dad shook his head. “Livvy, you can’t talk to him like you would a person. He’s smart, but he’s not that smart. You could try explaining, though. Maybe he’ll get it.”
She looked back at her new friend. She patted herself in the middle of the chest and said, “My name is Olivia. What’s your name?”
After a pause, he said, “You Ol-iv?”
She giggled, excited that he’d actually said her name. She patted her chest again. “Right! I’m Olivia.” Then she reached out and touched the critter’s arm. “You? What’s your name?”
He ducked his head and then brushed his leg with one hand. “Me,” he said cheerfully.
“What’s your
name,” she repeated.
“Me.”
Her father made her stop, saying, “Honey, I don’t think he has a name. I think it’s up to you to give him one.”
Pretty well convinced that her dad was right about him not having a name, she nodded in agreement. What should she call him? It’s not like she knew a lot of pet’s names. She thought a little longer, and her dad just kept quiet and let her think. Dogs, cats....she’d seen some in movies, and a few in person when she visited her grandpa on Earth. And then she had the perfect idea. “Toto!”
Her dad grinned at her. “Wizard of Oz, huh?”
She nodded. “Uh-huh! Dorothy’s a little girl like me, and she had a pet named Toto.”
“Well, I think it’s a great name, but it’s not me you have to convince,” her dad said. He nodded down to maybe-Toto. “Try it out on him.”
Her dad was right. She leaned closer to the box and when she was sure the weersa was paying attention, she said, “What do you think? Do you like Toto?”
There was that wrinkled brow again, the wide, confused eyes. She simplified. “My name Olivia. Your name Toto.” She thumped her chest again and said, “Livvy,” then touched the critter and repeated, “Toto.”
This time the weersa’s eyes lit up. He patted his belly and said, “Me Toto.”
Livvy clapped in delight. “You’re Toto!” She scooped her newly-named friend up in her arms and danced around the room, marveling at how soft his fur was.
Somewhere behind her she heard her father say, “Well, I’m glad that’s settled. We’d better get down to the galley before your mom skins us alive, though. It’s time to make dinner, and we are L-A-T-E.”
She stopped dead. Late was
not good. “Can I bring Toto?” she asked, not wanting to leave her new friend behind. “He’ll be lonely if I leave him here! And I want to show him to Merry and Teej!”
Her dad grinned at her and jerked his head towards the door. “Come on then, Miss New Pet Owner. It’ll be me and you, and Toto too!”
She snickered at her dad’s bad joke, and followed him out of her room. No doubt about it! This was the best day of her whole life! She knew her mom wasn’t crazy about her keeping a critter, but Toto would win her over eventually.... Olivia whistled, and Toto tried to whistle too. How cool was that? What
else could he do?
Livvy couldn’t wait to find out!
Author
