This one goes out to PKLibrarian, who is directly responsible for getting this written. (so throw your rotten tomatoes her way! LOL) A remarkable coincidence that she just had a birthday. I only hope it doesn't disappoint. Happy Birthday PKL.
Rated: PG for a couple of mildly bad words.
Set: About 5 years before Zoroaster's Legacy. If you haven't read the big story...it's okay. I think this stands alone.
Whose in it?: John, D'Argo (the junior) and Veela mostly
Disclaimer: Farscape is owned by...other people and companies, not sure who they are. But Hensen is probably one. Not me.
Much thanks and gratitude to my hubby for helping with the story and to aeryncrichton for her usual superb job of catching my mistakes and making the story better.
Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained
The late afternoon light filtered through the long flowing curtains to make strange dancing shapes against the far wall. Blessed silence reigned in the room as the man sitting at the large work table bent over his task, deep in thought.
John was in that oblivious state of mind that usually came when he was totally focused on his latest project. He didn’t know how he was going to explain to the native population of Ilerad why they needed a cuckoo clock, but most of his Earth adaptations had worked out so far. His neighbors and the local populace at large thought he was their planet’s own private genius. He hadn’t had the heart to tell them he was piggybacking off of centuries of innovation by Earth’s finest geeks and nerds.
Only on Ilerad could he have gotten away with his deception all these cycles. He’d managed to find the one planet in the Uncharted Territories that reminded him of home, with its lakes and trees, but still boasted an impressive spaceport not far away. A planet far enough away from civilization to be impressed by his piss poor attempts at entrepreneurship.
Here on Ilerad, with its curious mix of naïveté and sophistication it was possible for him and his family to lead a somewhat normal life, due in no small part to the fact that no one here knew he was from a little blue planet called Earth. Here he wasn’t John Crichton, that daring outlaw who was revered and feared on uncounted worlds. Nope, here, he was just John Smith, husband, father and inventor extraordinaire. And if he had any say about it, he was going to keep it that way. But, still, he had to earn a living. He focused on the clock mechanism with renewed vigor, but just as he was about to insert the worm gear the walls of the house started to vibrate.
“Oh, no. No, no, no…” The clock, which was propped precariously on his work table trembled slightly and fell over, spilling its innards onto the table surface. He stared at the guts of his latest creation rolling in all directions. “Damn it!” He threw down the tongs that he'd been using and ran to the window as the vibration turned into a bona fide rattle. “What the hell does he think he’s doing?! I told him not to…do…th..” His voice trailed off. It was too late.
Boom!
The noise from the aircraft culminated in a sound loud enough to wake every neighbor within a twenty metra radius. He was going to kill the kid even if he was his firstborn. He might be almost 21 but he wasn’t too old to get his behind blistered.
“D’Argo! Get back here,” John yelled into his comms, even as the personal junk heap of a ship his son had laughingly nick-named
Roadrunner sped away from the house.
“D’Argo! You better answer me boy!” John yelled again. Silence answered him. Of course D’Argo wouldn’t have his comms on. John had told him and told him, always wear your comms, but did he listen to his old man?
He paused in his silent diatribe for a microt, thinking suddenly how much he was sounding like his own dad these days.
“Oh, my God. I’m turning into my father,” he said out loud. The thought was vaguely disquieting, but really, if you thought about it, there wasn’t anybody he’d rather be like. So he’d own to it, gladly. He just wondered what his dad would do about a boy who was no longer a boy yet still acted like one.
He had never acted that way. Much.
“John.”
Aeryn’s voice came from behind him and he spoke before turning around, watching D’Argo’s ship turn and land on the tarmac behind the house.
“I know, I know. I’ll have a talk with him. I don’t know what’s got into the boy.”
“He probably has a knack for getting into trouble, just like his old man.”
That was not Aeryn’s voice. John whirled around and saw a straight white mop of hair dancing on top of the small gray woman as she cocked her head to the side. His heart gave a little pang as it always did when his favorite Nebari graced them with a visit. It had been too long this time and he hadn’t realized just how worried about her he had been until just now.
“Chiana!” He opened his arms wide and she flew to him just like she’d done so many times before. He closed them tight around her and gave her one of his famous bear hugs before sitting her down and looking closer. Her face was still unlined and she didn’t weigh more than a bug, but there was something in her eyes that told him the cycles since her last visit hadn’t been all fun and games. He doubted that she’d come here just for a social visit.
He put her down and smiled. She’d tell him what she wanted him to know in her own time. “How are you?” He looked around. “Should we prepare for battle?” he teased, only half in jest.
“Crichton, you are so full of plotz. No, no one’s after me. Like I would lead them here if they were. Can’t I come to see old friends if I want?”
“Of course you can, although you could have left out the old part.” He motioned at the doorway and Aeryn walked around Chi to move close to him. John put his arm around her and squeezed lightly. “Hey, baby, do we have enough grub for one more at the table tonight?”
Aeryn gave him a look. “I think Nerran can rustle up something.” She turned to Chiana explaining. “He’s our new cook. We found him on Sentagel feeding a bunch of knackats for the overlord there so we lured him away with the promise of an easier life. Although, whether or not preparing meals for this brood is any better than feeding knackcats is debatable.” She grimaced. It was unnecessary to explain that Aeryn Sun-Crichton didn’t do meal preparation unless it was an emergency and then it was more likely to be food cubes than a true meal. Not that anyone would say a word. They were all much smarter than that.
Chiana shook her head at Aeryn. “Rustle up something? You have definitely been hanging around Crichton too long.” Aeryn frowned and Chi backed up a little and gave a small grin. Her shit eatin’ grin, he liked to call it. The one that said she knew something you didn’t know. Oh crap…
“Actually,” Chi started, “it’s…it’s not one for dinner, but two.”
“Two?” John and Aeryn said in unison.
“Yeah. Two.” Chi repeated. Turning she went out the door, only to return a few microts later with a young Nebari female in tow. This one was a bit taller than Chiana, which still made her shorter than the other two in the room. Her hair was not quite the same as Chiana’s, though it was the same white that marked her as Nebari. Instead of a short fly-away mop like the older woman next to her, her hair was sleek and straight, parted in the middle and falling to just below her ears. A stray strand fell in her face and she pushed it back with a graceful movement.
John was man enough to notice that her skin was like finely crafted porcelain, her eyes wide and black as night and tilted ever so slightly upward. That she had soft pouty lips that made a man yearn to lean in and taste them. Not that
he wanted to. He glanced nervously at Aeryn. In other words, she was breathtakingly beautiful, and the hair on the back of John’s neck pricked with something like a premonition. She was going to be trouble, he just knew it.
Stopping in front of John and Aeryn, Chiana gave them a full blown smile that was so proud, John couldn’t help smiling back. “I’d like to introduce you to my…my niece. Veela.” Her smile wavered slightly. “She’s…she’s Nerri’s narl.”
Huh? He’d never heard of Nerri having a child before he died. Chiana correctly interpreted the blank expression on John’s face even before Aeryn spoke up.
“What do you mean? Nerri had a child?” Aeryn asked.
“Yeah, it was kind of a shock to me too. I discovered her last cycle completely by accident after I stole a personnel roster from Prime Director Kanne. I had no idea Nerri had knocked u…umm, I mean fathered a narl. He stashed her with some friends of his and gave her a new identity before he, before he…” She grimaced. “Well, you know.” She waved her arm. “Just think, she’s been living on Nebari Prime right under the noses of the Establishment all this time.” She turned and grinned at the young woman by her side and reached a hand up to flick her under the chin. “But she’s Nerri’s all right. He gave her the name of our great Noni.” She laughed at their blank looks. “Our grandmother! That’s how I knew she was related. Ain’t that a kick in the mivonks?” The question was obviously rhetorical as she continued. “She’s beautiful and she’s smart and..and..she can totally beat me in a game of Strato. Drad huh?”
Veela looked a bit embarrassed at this assessment of her in front of strangers, and John struggled to overcome the strange antipathy he had felt at first sight. It wasn’t her fault he felt this way. At least he didn’t think so. And it couldn’t be easy suddenly finding out you had family you didn’t know about. If, in fact, she hadn’t known. John wasn’t sure about this new addition to their extended family, but if Chi said this Veela was okay, he’d go along with it. For now. But if she had grown up in the Nebari Establishment he’d damn sure be keeping an eye on her until he was certain she could be trusted. He could see in Aeryn’s eyes that she was thinking the same thing. He’d trust Chiana’s instincts with his life, but he took no chances when it came to his family. Time would tell and in the meantime he’d be watching, albeit gracefully.
“Yeah, very drad,” John said with a smile that was only slightly forced. “Welcome to Ilerad, Veela. My daughters Ellie and Zanne are upstairs. I’m sure they will be happy to have another girl in the house.”
“I am almost 30 cycles old,” Veela spoke for the first time. “It’s true that I am not advanced in age but I’m certainly not a girl.” Her voice had that soft, controlled tone that he had encountered in other Nebari, but it was obvious she was displeased. The fact that she showed her displeasure was something different too. Nebari, yet…not. Not like the mindless drones he’d met up with before anyway. It was the eyes, he thought. She had old eyes in a young face, eyes that had seen too much. Like Chiana’s eyes, he realized suddenly.
“Not a gir…right. Sorry.” John rubbed his neck “Well, they’ll be glad to have another
female around. We don’t get too many visitors in this neck of the woods.” He turned to Chi. “I’m sorry D’Argo’s not here either. As you might have guessed he’s out pissing the neighbors off as usual. I swear he’s the one giving me all these gray hairs!” He pulled at his still abundant hair that was liberally streaked with silver. “He’ll be…”
“Right here!”
The voice of his son startled him and he looked around to see D’Argo standing in the doorway. He must have booked to get here this quick. But if he’d seen a strange vehicle outside he’d have come running. Visitors to talk with or an enemy to defend against, it was all the same to him. It was something different. It occurred to John suddenly that D’Argo was just plain bored these days. Maybe he had been for some time.
He didn’t look bored now though. He had his Aunt’s grin on his face as he came forward to pick Chiana up and swing her around. It was strange to think his son was as big as he was these days.
“Hi, Aunt Chi. Welcome back!” D’Argo bussed her on the lips in a gesture of pure affection. “Sorry I wasn’t in when you got here.” John watched as D’Argo gave Chiana another hug. He and his godmother Chi had always had a special relationship even though they didn’t see each other that much. Although, since Chiana had admitted what happened between her and John’s younger self, he had wondered whether or not he should warn D’Argo of her predilection for young Crichtons.
“I’ve been out putting the Roadrunner through her paces,” D’Argo continued. “Hey, maybe you could come up and I could show you what I’ve…d..one….Hello!” his voice trailed off and his eyes widened as he spied Veela.
Then again, maybe John wouldn’t have to say anything. D’Argo was now eyeing their other guest with an expression resembling a puppy eyeing a bone.
“Aunt Chi, introduce me to this lovely young girl,” D’Argo demanded impatiently, oblivious to Veela’s instant frown.
John had to fight not to laugh and furtively nudged Aeryn’s arm as she rolled her eyes. He watched, as with a quirk of her lips, Chiana made the introduction. This should be good.
**** **** **** **** ****
She didn’t like him.
D’Argo played with the food on his plate as he snuck side glances at the beautiful Nebari sitting between his sisters. She had looked a bit uncomfortable at first, no doubt because Ellie and Zanne would drive a Stykera insane. She was looking more comfortable now though, even laughing suddenly at something Ellie said, and he thought he’d never seen anything so perfectly sexy in all his life.
Normally, he barely noticed the differences between Nebari and Sebeceans. Growing up on Ilerad, which, while a little backward, nevertheless boasted a broad population of many different species, including a few Nebari, he never gave it much thought. But now he was fascinated by the stark beauty of black, gray and white. He marveled at the shadows of her collar bones and cheek bones. The large dark eyes that seemed so grave most of the time, but that could suddenly sparkle with laughter. He was guessing that laughter was a rare thing for her. Chiana had told them about finding her niece working for one of the Nebari High Council members on Nebari Prime itself. If Nebari Prime was anything at all like stories Chiana had told them, it was no wonder Veela didn’t laugh often.
He watched her spoon a bite of LaGosh into her mouth and marveled that she made even the most mundane task beautiful. He had always assumed that beautiful came in colors. The bluegreen of the sky, the red of the sun. On her, the grayness somehow seemed more full of life than the most vibrant rainbow.
And she didn’t like him.
He knew that because of the way she’d deliberately avoided shaking his hand when they were introduced and the way she stiffened now when he caught her eye. But why didn’t she like him? The others girls on Ilerad didn’t seem to have that problem. They’d been after him for cycles now. Sure, some of it was because of his father’s position as Ilerad’s premier inventor, but just because his dad had some mild claim to fame on this planet didn’t mean it would impress the young females, and they didn’t know that he was the son of the infamous John Crichton. Of course
he knew he was, but he tried not to think of it as much as possible.
No, it was more likely the combination of his father’s eyes and a certain height combined with broad shoulders that made him the constant target of female appreciation. It was silly of course, and the fact that he recognized this didn’t make him vain, he thought, merely realistic. But apparently his looks didn’t do anything for Veela. Why was she so different? It was going to drive him crazy.
“Ellie, Zanne, it’s time to go to your room to finish your studies.”
His mom’s voice broke into D’Argo’s musings.
“But…Dad!” Ellie turned to plead with her father knowing that talking to their mother was useless.
“Nope.” Her dad’s voice was final. “Get on up there now. The old folks have some catchin’ up to do. And I seem to remember a certain low figure in your last stats report that you promised wouldn’t be repeated.”
Boy, his dad knew how to get to his sisters every time.
“Yes, sir,” the sisters said in unison and they each gave Veela a hug before ascending the stairs to their rooms.
“You two kids gonna be all right if the ‘old’ folks go to the back room for a while?” John asked, and D’Argo was torn between the excitement of being alone with Veela and the dread of having to make conversation with someone who disliked him. But excitement as well as politeness won out.
“Not a problem,” D’Argo said before Veela could voice an objection. “We’ll be fine. You guys go on.”
As the older folks slipped through the door and their voices faded, D’Argo turned to Veela and his heart sank. The look on her face was not encouraging.
**** **** **** **** ****
Gor, but he was tall.
Veela looked up at the man standing in front of her. A long way up. On Nebari Prime the males were usually just a little taller than her. She hadn’t seen many males that were this attractive either. Which is why it was such a shame he was so stupid.
“We really don’t want to stay here in the house,” D’Argo was saying to her.
“Why not? It seems a perfectly respectable domicile,” she responded. Now he had her puzzled. There was no sense in his statement. Why would they leave the comfort of her Aunt’s friend’s house? She was beginning to get worried that this D’Argo might be a couple of rashers shy of a kreg. What a pity that would be.
“Oh, it is. It is. But it also contains something more fearsome than anything you can imagine!”
Veela looked around her seeing only the comfortable furnishings of a mid class tradesman. “Have you gone completely fahrbot? What are you talking about?”
D’Argo smiled at her and Veela struggled to hide her reaction. He had a beautiful smile, as she was sure he knew. He’d been watching her all night, causing her body temperature to skyrocket, though she’d made sure there was no outward sign of it. He was the most gorgeous male she’d ever seen, but she had a developed a tendency lately to jump first and think later, which was not conducive to a long-lived Nebari rebel. It was something she was trying to overcome. And really, how could she be attracted to someone as useless as this one?
“I’m talking about Nareen,” he said.
“But..but..isn’t that your food preparer?”
D’Argo nodded his head. “And chief bottle washer. Which means, if he catches us here he’ll requisition us into cleanup duty.”
“You mean…” Veela stared speechless.
“Yep. We’ll be washing dishes for the rest of the night.
Veela grabbed D’Argo by the hand and turned towards the door. “Which way?”
**** **** **** **** ****
D’Argo allowed Veela to drag him as far as the tarmac before pulling her left towards the hangar. It was a good place to hide out as well as to show her one of his favorite places. There the family had an array of craft, from his mother’s prized out-of-date Prowler to the state of the art Swing Craft that they only used for specials occasions. "Special occasions" such as if word ever got around about who his dad really was and they had unwelcome visitors.
He was so tired of keeping it a secret, and at the same time he felt guilty because there was a part of him that was jealous of who his dad really was. Every school age boy and girl of whatever species knew about John Crichton. He was studied in books and discussed in every class, from physics to psyche. It was useless to pretend that he had any chance of filling his father’s shoes, so he didn’t try. Maybe that’s why he was still on this planet, bored out of his skull. He didn’t feel bored now though. He felt…alive.
He entered the day’s combination on the keypad lock and waited impatiently for the doors to the hanger to open. He didn’t wait for them to open all the way but slid in when there was enough room and drew Veela in beside him. He made quick work of closing the door behind them.
“What are you doing?” Veela questioned him.
“I want to show you something,” D’Argo replied, as he led her into the middle of the hanger.
The light from Ilerad’s three moons streamed though the opening in the hanger roof. It was actually a force field which kept the weather out, but would allow them a fast exit in case of an emergency. But mostly it served to provide a sheltered view of Ilerad’s ring system. Visable only at night and by moonlight, the faint shimmering rings provided a glorious counterpoint to the starry sky. All of the family, at one time or another, came out here to stare up at the sky and marvel at how beautiful a place was this planet they called home. When he was little they used to bring blankets and food, and make a night of star gazing. They would try to pick out shapes and patterns in the bright sparks in the night sky, and his father would make up stories about them.
Even though he was grown now, those sparks had lost none of their appeal. They still looked like Delvian glow stones on black velvet.
He climbed up on the hull of the Swinger and offered Veela a hand up before spreading himself out on top of the craft. Veela hesitated a moment, then followed his example. There was enough room on the top of the craft that she had no trouble laying down beside him and still making sure that no part of them touched. D’Argo sighed to himself. This was going to be a long night.
They had been silent for a while, when Veela spoke. “Why are we laying here on top of a ship looking at the sky?”
Good question. "I thought you might like to see one of my favorite places on Ilerad,” D’Argo answered, and then lifted a hand to point at a portion of the night sky. “My father used to tell me stories of the stars when I was younger. See those stars there. That oblong cluster? That's 'The One-Eyed Luxan'. That bright red star is his eye."
If he didn’t know better he’d have sworn Veela snorted. “A Luxan? Uh huh….” A few microts went by and D’Argo was beginning to think this was a really bad idea when she suddenly spoke. "Does he have any friends up there?"
D'Argo chuckled. "Oh yes. When I was a kid, dad and I found them and named them all." He pointed out various clusters. "That twisted group over there is 'The Scarran'. Over there is 'The Unicorn'. And those - that circle of nine stars- is the 'Fellowship of the Ring' named after my favorite book. That little green spark next to them is 'Golem'.
Veela rolled over on her side and gave him a half smile. "Such strange names."
D'Argo shrugged. "They are a bit. But I’m used to them. A lot of my heroes came from books." He grinned. "Remind me to teach you English, so you can read my copies of Tolkien's books that dad brought from Earth."
“It sounds…interesting. But, I doubt very much that I’ll be here long enough to learn an entire language,” she said.
“That’s a shame,” he said, trying to smile winningly. “You’re missing out on some good stuff.” He thought for a microt. “Of course, if you came back for a longer visit I could teach you enough English to get you started. Or I could teach you on the installment plan from wherever your home is. A comms burst would let me compress a couple of hours of lessons into a couple of seconds of random comm noise.”
“You’re serious aren’t you?” Veela asked, her eyes widening.
“Of course I’m serious.” Boy howdy, was he serious. There was just something about her that rocked his world, floated his boat, pulsed his jets…whatever you wanted to call it. He had to get to know her better. And if becoming a teacher of a language from the far side of the galaxy was his ticket to that goal, then he’d run with it.
“It would be very dangerous to communicate with you while on Nebari Prime.”
Ah, shit…he wanted to keep talking to her in the worst way, but he didn’t want to compromise her safety. That would defeat the whole purpose. He thought quickly.
“We could set up times so that you’d know when a transmission was coming in and could make sure you were the one to get it. If we’re careful I think you can pull it off. I wouldn’t do anything that might get you in trouble.”
“And only Earth people know this language, yes?” she asked carefully.
“Yes,” he answered quickly. “Although to be honest, the translator microbes make it unnecessary. Still, it could be fun.”
“All right.” Veela lay back down to gaze out at the night sky.
“All right?” he asked. Did she mean what he thought she meant?
“Are the translator microbes not working? Is that not what you wanted?” she replied.
D’Argo felt his heart skip a beat. Oh, my God, could she really be interested? After a sudden burst of giddiness, his natural paranoia, honed by years of living with his mom and dad, kicked in, and the question suddenly became - is she interested in me or… the books? No, that didn’t sound right. But her sudden interest in him teaching her English was too suspicious to ignore. He might be wasting his time on Ilerad but he wasn’t stupid. As he lay there he tried to figure out the girl, uh, woman, next to him, but he had a feeling that might take a few cycles…or forever.
Finally he sat up, abandoning the twinkling lights. “I know I’m the one who suggested it, and don’t take this the wrong way, but why?”
“Why what?” Veela sat up next to him and cocked her head at him in question.
“Why did you agree? It doesn’t make sense.” He brought his knees up to rest his arms on them and continued. “You don’t like me. You’ve ignored me all evening. I’m sure you’d rather be anywhere than here. And suddenly you’re saying we can stay in touch and you’d like to learn an obscure language that nobody else knows…” D’Argo’s voice trailed off as he began to understand. “That’s it, isn’t it? You want to learn a language no one else knows.” He frowned. “But why? The translator microbes can translate English.”
Veela looked at him for a moment deep in thought and apparently came to a conclusion, for she sighed and looked away. “Not all Nebari have translator microbes. It makes it too easy for the population to be corrupted by outsiders. It could be useful in the future to have a means of communication that the Establishment doesn’t understand.”
“I see.” D’Argo said bitterly. And he did. She wasn’t interested in him at all. She was all about what she could do for her frelling cause.
“You’re wrong you know.” Her voice has lost some of its controlled softness now and was a little rougher, a little louder.
“Yeah? About what?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He’d been wrong all night.
“I don’t dislike you.”
D’Argo gave a short bark of laughter at that. “Could have fooled me. I’m sure you won’t look at or talk to all of the people you like.”
“Actually, I’m usually very good at controlling my emotions and behaving with perfect civility. You have to be if you’re going to live on Nebari Prime and not get cleansed.” Her voice quivered just enough to let him see how much strain she was under living her double life, and he suddenly realized he hadn’t given any thought at all to how she had to live day to day. The sacrifices that must be required of her.
“I’m sorry…” he started.
“No. Don’t be sorry. I haven’t been very nice to you since I arrived here.”
“I didn’t make a very good first impression did I?”
Veela shook her head, the pale strands floating around her face as she looked down at the ship they were sitting on.
“What did I do that was so bad?” He truly wanted to know, because he was beginning to see that if he wanted to have any kind of relationship at all with Veela he was going to have to do some growing up. And fast.
“It’s not that it’s bad.” She looked up then, her eyes catching his in a direct gaze. “It’s just…you don’t take it seriously,” she said fiercely. “You live here with your parents in an idyllic world and play at flying aircraft. You’re like a boy playing with a big toy and there is so much more you could be doing with such skill. Look at you, sitting here safe in your isolated little world, where nothing bad ever touches you. But there are bad things happening out there all the time. Terrible things. My own people want to help the universe by alternately cleansing or killing anyone who doesn’t conform to their narrow-minded standards. They test you all the time. Always watching you and judging you. You can’t imagine what kind of hell that is. To never be able to express yourself. To never be able to trust anyone.” She wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “I know one person can’t change the fate of a universe, but at least I’m making a difference.”
I know one person can’t change the fate of a universe. The words she threw at him like stones mocked him even more than she could know. It wasn’t true though, what she said. Because he knew of one man who had changed a universe forever. His father. Oh, they didn’t talk much about all the things he’d done. But then they didn’t have to. Everyone knew about the gammack bases destroyed. The Peackeeper/Scarran Peace Accord. The wormhole weapon. His dad had been one man, and he had changed the fate of billions.
So what did that mean for D’Argo? He guessed it meant he was going to have to come clean about his life, at least to himself. It was true, he had been feeling stifled here for a long time and try as he might, he had to admit he’d been resenting his father for being a hero like no other. Too many times it felt like there was nothing he, D’Argo, could do to ever top him. That no matter what he did, he’d always be second best.
What astonished him was that it had taken him so long to see the truth. And the truth was that if he remained on Ilerad, that’s exactly what he would always be. Second best. Because if he was ever going to have a shot at making a difference, it would have to be elsewhere. Somewhere where the need was great. Where people needed him and the skills he could provide.
And he did have skills. His mother had made sure he could shoot faster and more accurately than anyone on the planet. He could go head to head with anyone in full contact combat. He could even outfly his dad. Maybe he wasn’t as smart as his old man, but he was close. But the fact was, if he never left Ilerad, all that training would go to waste. Just the thought of actually leaving Ilerad, of having a purpose in life, filled him with exhilaration while at the same time, it made him break out into a cold sweat. It was a scary thing to think of not having the safety net his parents had created for him. Where would he go? How would he live?
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I should go.” Veela’s voice broke the long silence and she started to rise.
D’Argo shot out a hand to stay her. “No!” He grimaced at the look she gave him and he released her arm gently. “I mean, please, don’t go. Stay.”
Veela sat back down looking at him suspiciously, probably wondering what was going on with him. He didn’t blame her.
“What is it?” she asked.
“So, did you mean it? You do like me?” The words startled even him, and he winced as she rolled her eyes. After all that she had said and he was still wondering if she liked him? He would have rolled his eyes too. But he still had to know.
Veela hesitated a microt, just long enough for D’Argo to get worried, before she gave a resigned little sigh. “I think you are the son of powerful people, yet you are irresponsible and you waste what the goddess has given you and…yes. I like you.” She bit her lip before blurting out, “You’re very…attractive.”
She looked embarrassed as she said it, but still, the words had come out of her mouth and it was too late for her to take them back. She thought he was attractive! He wanted to laugh out loud.
D’Argo’s lips twitched as he tried not to grin. Okay, maybe it wasn’t the most auspicious beginning, but it was a start. It would take time to convince her that he could be more.
“All right then.” He lay back down to study the sky once more and tugged Veela back down till they were side by side, only this time he held her hand as he said, “Tell me more about Nebari Prime and this rebellion.”
**** **** **** **** ****
John sat in his workroom, exactly where he been and doing exactly what he'd been doing a week ago, with one difference. Up until that moment seven days ago, every day had developed a certain predictability that he’d grown to like over the cycles. He could count on every day being pretty much the same. Or as much as he could ever count on something like that. Once, that would have driven him insane, but after all the things that had occurred in his life, he would take boring any day. He had his wife and his children all around him and a job he enjoyed. There were no life altering choices to be made, no choices at all that were any more important than what to have for lunch or what next useless invention he was going to try and pawn off on the poor people of Illerad. Okay, so it had it’s down side, but for the most part he couldn’t have wished for a happier life.
Now? He was very afraid that it was all going to change.
He ran a hand down his face and sat back in the chair. And the very worst part was, he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. He wasn’t even sure he should try, assuming that it was at all possible. Aeryn didn’t seem to think there was a problem. In fact, she’d argued that D'Argo was well past the age where he should be taking responsibility for his life. John knew she'd miss the boy just as much as he would, but she still had that Peacekeeper mindset that said children need to grow up fast. He sighed as he sat there staring at the parts before him. Maybe she was right.
D’Argo. What a rich heritage they had given their son the first few days of his life. A name that meant valor and honor and bravery. A name that meant so much more. And if John knew anything about his son, then he knew with utter certainty that his boy was going to put all of the qualities that went with the name into practice. Somewhere else.
He’d had a feeling the first time he saw her that Veela was going to be trouble. He should have learned to pay more attention to his hunches by now. Not that she’d done anything wrong. No, the problem was that she had brought the universe to D’Argo. She had shown him a bit of what was wrong with it, and had then showed him a way to fix it, or at least the value of trying. That was an irresistible lure to a young man who was in his prime and ready to sow some wild oats.
He’d heard them talking the entire week that Veela had been there. About the Nebari and the rebellion. About…other things. He’d seen the gleam in D’Argo eye and not just at the thought of adventures, either. He’d watched his son with the Nebari girl. Watched the way they grew closer day by day. D’Argo was the only one who could lean over and whisper in Veela’s ear and make her do something as silly as giggle. She was the only one who could whisper in his ear and make him blush. Ah, young love.
John hated it.
Not because he didn’t understand it, but because he did. He knew the heart-pounding excitement of being with a beautiful girl. The wonder of hanging on her every word while knowing that she's hanging on yours in return, and the heady triumph of finally making love to her. Oh, yes, he knew. He also knew it could grow deeper or wither on the vine, but only time would tell. The real problem was that this love was going to take his son from him and throw him out into the cold cruel universe to sink or swim on his own. John knew that feeling all too well, also, and it wasn’t something that he wanted for his son.
John was pretty sure it was only a matter of days before D’Argo finally screwed up his courage enough to tell his old man that he was leaving. Just yesterday John had caught him working on the
Roadrunner, trying to modify the intake system for more speed. By god, it was bad enough that D’Argo was going to go off and fight in a rebellion that was not his own, but to do it in that rusted-out heap of cobbled together parts was beyond stupid. And his pride would prevent him from asking for their help.
John frowned in concentration as he considered the problem. Then, just as fast as the frown had come, it was gone again as the solution came to him. Jothee! Jothee would help him out. The Luxans had some of the best technology in the UT’s. Their military avionics were a match for the Scarrens or the PK's, and they might even give the Nebari a run for their money. He was sure he could wheedle a ship of some kind out of his best friend’s son. Of course it might come at a price. He mentally counted the money he’d stashed away for a rainy day. He should have plenty. He’d send out a message today. If his son had to go haring off to save the universe, he’d be doing it in style, and with a better than average chance at keeping his human/Sebacean hide in one piece.
Save the universe. Be a hero. That’s what it boiled down to he guessed. There was just too much of John in his son for that son to be entirely comfortable moldering on a planetary backwater with the old folks. John had wanted so badly to shine when he was D’Argo’s age, and he’d thought for a long time it wasn’t possible. Not when his dad was the most celebrated astronaut on the planet. Well he’d managed to do it, be a hero, only to find out that the cost was high. Sometimes too high. He could only hope D’Argo didn’t have to pay the kind of price John had. He wondered if it would do any good to give him the ‘your own kind of hero’ speech. Nah… D’Argo would look at him like he was nuts. He’d have to find out the hard way. They always did.
He heard a knock at the door and D’Argo’s brown hair peeked around the corner before he came fully into the room. At the expression on his son’s face, John felt his heart contract. Ah, God. So soon? He’d thought he had a few more days before he faced this.
“Dad? Can I talk to you for a microt?” D’Argo wiped a nervous hand on his leather pants.
John took a deep breath and screwed up his own courage and said a silent prayer to not screw this up.
“Come on in D’Argo. And close the door. I think we’re gonna be a while.”
The end.
Author
