Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Kishikata no Eos ❯ Wreckage ( Chapter 10 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Kishikata no Eos

Chapter Ten -- Wreckage

Dawn awoke to the sound of her own whimpering, dried blood on her cheeks and a monstrous bruise on the back of her head. The shudder of the engines was gone, as was the frantic sounding of the alarms. A panel on the side of the wall displayed the status of the major ship systems. Propulsion was probably fried, after Dawn's frantic hotwiring minutes before the crash. Clearly, they hadn't avoided the asteroid, but waking up meant that she wasn't dead. In this case, waking up not dead was probably the best luck she'd had all day.

Today. Her birthday. Damn.

Breandon crawled over and began to untangle the straps that held Dawn in the captain's chair. "You did it," he said quietly, avoiding her eyes. "We're alive."

Dawn beamed up at him. "That we are, although I must say, I've got a wicked headache coming on." As the straps loosened, she pulled her arms free and flung them around his neck. "Fix me?"

He blinked at her, green-lined pupils still large. "Fix you? Wouldn't you rather the medic did that?"

She closed her eyes and tilted her face up, giddy with the sheer fact that they'd survived, and that he was there with her. "Not like this."

With a shrug, he wrapped his arms around her and heaved her out of the shattered chair. "Where are you hurt, my angel of starry space?"

"Here and there." She managed to get her feet under her, standing slowing. "You? How long have you been awake, anyway?"

"Approximately fifteen minutes. The medic is still unconscious. We should have put you farther back in the hull with us, rather than the captain's chair; our seats held up rather better." He tugged her backward, away from the wreckage of the piloting boards and the captain's chair, back toward the cargo bay. "Can you do what you did with the engines on another machine? We need some data on this place. I'm afraid the heat and air are escaping fast, and I don't know if this rock can sustain us without help."

She managed a nod. "I think so. I mean, it let me override the engines." She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand, "Ship's friendly enough, I suppose." Dawn paused, fingers slowly feeling the bump on her head. "'M sorry for what I said earlier, too," she mumbled.

Finally, Breandon tipped his gaze up to her face. "What was that? You said many things, some of them at the top of your superb voice." His tone was still mild, but she could sense the anger simmering vaguely under the surface.

Her face reddened, but she didn't try to look away. "Mostly everything about saying words and it being more important than anything else." She could feel her throat beginning to tighten, but Dawn didn't bother to stop. "If you never say another word to me again, I'll still manage to know if you love me, or not."

A wave of relief, completely uncalled for under the circumstances, washed through Breandon. She would be reasonable. He was sure that once they were out of this dangerous, life-threatening situation, she would probably revert, at least a little bit, but that was part of what made her Dawn. Thus his voice wavered slightly as he said, "Apology accepted." Grasping her hand a bit tighter, he pulled her again deeper into the ship.

Dawn beamed, allowing herself to be pulled forward into the cargo bay. "Bet we could find your clothes now," she noted. "How about you do that, and I'll talk sweet to the ship. Scruffy doesn't suit you in the least." She gently pulled at his overalls, smile softening to something more tender. "Got it?"

He decided to ignore the clothes remarks. Scruffy was irrelevant right now. "I rather thought we might need some hazmat suits." He pointed down the passageway to a door marked 'Supplies.' "You go talk nicely to th-what's left of the ship. There might be a whole computer left in Enviro-control. And I think we might need a homing beacon. Meet me back here in fifteen minutes?"

"Yup, fifteen." She spun on her heel, strolling up to the panel on the wall. Before, she'd been able to display schematics and manually reverse one of the thrusters. Now, the screen scrolled lazily with commands and processes as it did its own evaluation. Dawn frowned, fingers tapping the wall. No buttons here, no holographic interface for her to pretend to poke and prod. She pursed her lips, wondering if all of the old television shows ever had an ounce of truth to them.

"Hello, computer," she attempted, mostly in jest.

Command lines halted, and a single underscore cursor blinked patiently. Flabbergasted, Dawn tried again. "Systems on-line?"

<Emergency life support on-line. Communications inbound only. Propulsion irreparable. Weapons irreparable. Exterior shields at 67% and holding.>

Well, I'll be damned, she thought to herself. "Can I go outside without a helmet?"

<Exterior atmosphere can support humanoid life.>

"Guess that's a yes," she mused. Now, for the harder questions...

On the main bridge, debris stirred. The top of a blonde head shifted against a broken chair back for a moment before its owner appeared. Blood marked the pale skin in tiny rivulets, stark and brilliant.

Brushing at the dust greying her space-dark tunic ineffectually with one hand, Valère glanced around the ruin of the bridge. She cradled the other arm close to her chest, palm upward. The room was clearly deserted, and she could hear a female voice querying the computer.

Slowly, she bent and scrabbled in the wreckage for a moment before coming up with something clutched in one hand.

"And inventory? Show me a list of what came on board before this trip," Dawn continued. Having been briefed on all of the major ship systems, she'd concluded that engines were shot and weaponry was non-existent. The chunk of rock, however, had a relatively moderate atmosphere that, at the moment, given their proximity from major stars and planetary systems, it would be habitable for the next few days.

A cough interrupted her. "That computer won't tell you that. Your voiceprint's way wrong," a vaguely familiar, ragged voice told her, at the same time the computer was saying the same thing.

<Voice does not match print on file. Cannot access inventory.>

"The only people who could access the inventory lists were Fehri and Zorya." Valère leaned against the wall nearby, still cradling her right arm, and Dawn noticed -- funny, what the mind noticed at times like these -- that her eyes were violet, a thin line of it surrounding the swollen pupil.

"Oh." Dawn blinked at the medic. "Well, it's not really that important, all things considered," she offered with a calculated shrug. Nodding at the injury, she continued in a guarded tone. "Can I help you with that? If you tell me what I need to do, maybe we can get that bandaged up and kept still until we get help."

The other woman glanced down at it. "It's broken. But thank you." Quiet footsteps sounded along the passageway as Breandon hove into view.

"Suit yourself," she sighed, crossing the room. "Hey, doll?" she called in greeting. "AI says we can play outside if we bundle up. How's that for good news?"

In answer, he held up three sealed packages. "I found dinner. And I ransacked the cabins for clothing, though I doubt it will fit any of us except for her. There are skinsuits in the storage room, though they seem to be sized specifically."

"Dinner works." She turned to size up the medic, who hadn't moved. "Well? Truce, and maybe we can discuss ideas on how to get out of here. How about that?" Dawn extended a hand in Valère's direction, a neutral expression on her face.

Turning to Breandon, Valère knelt, slowly. Whatever was in her left hand hit the floor with a metallic thunk. Keeping the right arm cradled, she leaned over until her forehead touched the floor, then slid the object toward Breandon's feet. It was the gun he'd been wielding.

"You saved my life without cause. I am yours, forever. My honour, my weapon, I lay all at your feet." The words were indistinct, but formal.

Dawn blinked, her jaw hanging open. Of all of the things to have happen, this was entirely unexpected. "You what? Oh, goodness, get up, please." She glanced back frantically to Breandon. "Tell her to get up, she's hurt. This is no time for bowing and scraping."

Breandon, in his turn, hastily passed the food packages over to Dawn and knelt beside the prostrated medic. "She's right, you know," he said softly. "I'm not refusing your sentiments. But this is neither the time nor the place for it. Wait until we are safe, fed, healed and rested, and then I will accept anything you choose to offer. I promise, we will complete the ceremony properly."

Valère raised her head, short blonde waves tumbling around her face. Holding Breandon's gaze steady for a moment, she nodded once, then attempted to rise. She made it about halfway up before crumpling like a plush doll.

Ceremony? An odd wave of jealousy and possessiveness rose within Dawn, but she shoved most of it aside to kneel next to Valère. "Can you get us access to what passes for an infirmary around here? I mean, we want to help you." She sniffed, glancing back to Breandon for a second. "Right?"

Valère's skin, already pale, had begun to take on a greyish tone. Still, her ragged voice was indignant as she replied, "Even here I would not close my workroom to any. The infirmary is open to all. It is shock, from the crash and the broken arm." The hand that lay splayed on the passage floor clenched into a fist. "Help me up."

Her head didn't hurt any more, but something gnawed at Dawn's stomach and etched lines in her forehead and around her mouth. In the glass along one wall, she could see her reflection. Scowling. Unhappy. Jealous. Trying desperately to act like nothing was wrong, and failing miserably.

She rolled over onto her stomach, her fuku replaced with simple cotton shirt and shorts she'd found in a closet. the cabin had probably been Fehri's, considering the size and proximity to the bridge, but knowing that she had the run of the former captain's cabin didn't make her feel any better. Thoughts keep going back to Valère's actions towards Breandon, how she'd more or less offered herself as a slave to him just because they hadn't blown her away when they'd had the chance. Letting out a "hmph", she toyed with her hair in an effort to distract herself, Where the hell -was- Breandon, anyway?

The nearly-silent whoosh of the door closing appeared to provide some answer to that. Still sulky, Dawn refused to roll over and make sure it /was/ Breandon, until warm, imperfectly dried hands landed on her shoulders. She hadn't noticed her skin being chilled until then.

"Did you find anything interesting, my angel of the sunrise?" Breandon murmured in her ear. Settling his weight on the bed beside her, he began to massage her shoulders.

"No." She dropped her head to rest on her hands, eyes closing. "Why, did you?" Voice dry and terse, Dawn willed herself to ignore the backrub or the tantalizing whisper in her ear.

"Yes, I did. She's right here."

She shrugged, muscles tense and knotted along her back and shoulders. "Really. Even though I'm not throwing myself at your feet for strapping me into the chair before?"

Voice smooth and unruffled, he asked, "Are you angry at her for offering, or me for accepting?"

Accepting? Dawn's head jerked up from the pillow, her face red with fury. "Accepting what, exactly? Servitude? Something more? Or, is this one of those things that I'm not cultured enough to understand?" Fingers clawed at the bedspread while she glared at Breandon. "I'm angry just... dammit, just because," she finished, gritting her teeth.

"I would hardly expect you to understand all the myriad cultures contained within the Lunar Kingdom, Dawn," he returned, a hint of amusement in his tone. "I merely accepted her gratitude for saving her life. Would you not do the same?"

"Depends upon the form of gratitude." Dawn's nastiest expression graced her face, the attempt comical in such a misunderstood situation. "How does one say, 'thank you' in space pirate medic, huh?"

Still massaging Dawn's back in slow, circular motions, Breandon commented slowly, "You know, I don't think she was always a mercenary. Or even a mercenary for very long. She seemed rather subordinate." Rolling over onto his back and propping the free arm behind his head, he went on, "Admit it. You're jealous."

Her eyes welled up with tears, frustration and unhappiness and fear all combining to make her face crumple. "I'm terribly jealous," she admitted, voice cracking. "And homesick. And I hate the future," she finally declared, burying her face in the bedspread while she shook furiously with tears.

'Oh, dear ... ' Regretfully sighing, Breandon rolled back over and put his arms around Dawn. "I will try to get you back to your own time, beloved child of the past," he murmured. "For now, I need you to be strong so we can get back to Crystal Tokyo." Leaning his face against the silk of her hair, he held her tightly.

She turned to her side to bury her face in his shoulder, feeling small burrowed into his chest. Dawn clung to him. wetting the front of his clothes with tears. "I'm trying," she whimpered, willing herself to stop crying. Sobs turned to sniffles, and she finally managed to turn her head to the side.

"I don't hate all of the future, just the bad parts," she offered softly. "Getting kidnapped and stored in a cargo hold and crashing who-knows-where on one's birthday counts as one of the bad parts, though."

Slowly, he stroked her hair. "I'm sure it does. Why don't we do something to make it better?" Breandon pressed his mouth to the top of her head.

She nodded in agreement, relaxing her grip on his clothing ever so slightly. "I'd like that." A long shuddering breath escaped her lips before she lifted her head. "You're not upset about me being jealous?"

He shook his head. "When I was I ever upset about that?" A gentle smile curved his lips. "I had a gift for you, before we were so rudely interrupted this morning. I doubt the lady captain threw it away."

"Really?" Dawn managed a smile as she traced the collar of the overalls he still wore. "You didn't have to do anything. Besides, we made it to tonight in decent health, so that's really gift enough," she pointed out.

Carefully disengaging from her, he walked over to a smooth panel of wall and placed a hand against it. A drawer sprang outward, and he picked up a small black box before shutting the drawer again. "I disagree," Breandon said, leaning over the bed with the box held on one outstretched palm.

Sitting up cross-legged, Dawn gingerly lifted the lid to reveal an exquisite jewellery set. Opals winked and glittered back at her, delicate drop earrings on either side of an intricate necklace that held three distinctly different kinds of the stone. She drew in her breath slowly, unable to speak for the first few moments. Fingers ran over the earrings and she looked up at Breandon, still at a loss for words.

"I asked ... a friend ... what the birthstone associations were for the Earth you come from. Sh--They said October was the opal." He flicked a finger at the box. "Will you wear them, when we get back?"

"Of course I will." Dawn leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "They're lovely, doll. Thank you." The smile she gave him was soft, love in big brown eyes that crinkled at the corners in happiness.

Breandon pouted slightly. "That's all I get? Just a kiss on the cheek?"

She took the box from him and set it beside her. "Of course not," she teased, gently pulling him closer. "It just seemed like a good place to start, that's all." A hand stroked his cheek as she kissed him longingly on the mouth.

Control shot out the airlock at the touch of her mouth. Grabbing both wrists, Breandon bore Dawn down to the bed and began to tear at her clothing.

She let out a short cry of surprise, but her own hands sought the buttons on his coveralls after a moment. She paused as the cotton tee was pulled off over her head, but managed to get a few more buttons undone. Even then, Dawn found herself gasping for air.

Breandon retained just enough sense of himself to issue two commands to the computer, locking the door and dimming the lights. Then all that remained to his world was red hair and a willing, pale-skinned body.

Dawn attempted to sit up, trying to peel the sleeves from his shoulders.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Lost? What do you mean, LOST?" Both Princess and Queen stared in horror at the holoscreen as Captain London gave them the bad news. Clearly, he'd drawn the short straw again, forced to deliver the message to Serenity while his second in command received a thorough chewing-out from Commander Greynn. True, it had been his team's responsibility to watch for Dawn in the square, and it had been the fault of the dozing port attendant who hadn't so much as blinked when the merc ship had docked. Still...

"How do you lose a Guardian. London?" Rini stepped in front of her mother, only marginally more upset than Serenity. Twin pink tails shook as she screamed at his image. "You have a security detail of fifteen officers, including two partial empaths and the ability to call on my mother's personal circle of officers and military confidantes! How could you LOSE her?" She pounded a fist on the table in frustration.

London sighed, his expression weary. "When bounty hunters set their sights on someone, Your Highness--"

"Bounty hunters?" This time, Serenity interrupted, the pitch of her voice her only concession to fear and worry. "Captain London, how do bounty hunters get into MY spaceport?"

"Your Majesty, I--"

She cut him off, livid. "Listen to me, you inattentive jackass. You find out who issued the bounty, what ships came in this week, who might be so asinine as to kidnap a Lunar citizen, and get me the answers within the hour, or so help me, I'll send you on a recon mission to the furthest edge of the Thillacrin belt!"

A mumbled "Yes, Your Majesty," was the only reply she received as the Captain blinked out. The screen now dark, Serenity sank into an armchair. Her daughter chose the less graceful option of the floor, head resting in her hands.

"When was the last time you saw her?" Serenity rubbed her temples, trying to remain calm. "Last night? This morning?"

"Last night." Rini didn't lift her head. "We left early from the dinner; she went to bed halfway through the movie after that."

"And today?"

Rini shrugged. "Something about meeting Rainault for breakfast, I dunno."

The Queen rose, pulling her daughter up by the arm. "Young lady, put your personal issues aside and start acting like an adult. This is serious." She pushed the teenager ahead of her into the hallway. "Until she is found and returned to the palace, you are confined to family quarters."

"MOM!"

Serenity glowered. "No Guardian, no leaving," she dictated. "Maybe that will mean more to you than the fact that one of our Senshi has been kidnapped." Furious with both London and the Princess, she took off down the hall at an almost-run. Serenity required answers, and a trip to LISA headquarters was in order.

"Ma'am?" Theo nodded crisply to the harried Queen. "We may know who's responsible for the abduction." Bloodshot eyes proved that a certain father-to-be hadn't been sleeping well. "There are two possible witnesses down at the spaceport. We're holding them for smuggling Zixiac rum through Vegan space, but..."

"But what?"

"It's the _Coqui Malo_. If anyone would know about a bounty on a Senshi, it'd be them."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It took Dawn a minute to remember where she'd gone to sleep and why she'd been curled up against Breandon, his warm breath even on her shoulders. The events of the past twenty-four hours came back, accompanied by an uneasiness in her stomach and a residual thrill of having made it this far. Light from twin suns glinted off the mirrored wall, catching the fire in her hair as she rolled to her side to watch him sleep. She brushed long strands away from his cheek, content to bask in her namesake between cool sheets.

Eyes half-closed, Dawn let her mind wander while her fingertips grazed his face. Did it matter that he couldn't tell her that he loved her without resorting to a myriad of images and countless caresses? Was it just the words? The action? The gravity of four letters strung together, the meaning so dear and so cherished that even Dawn had refrained from saying it until the day she'd come back to him. Maybe things were that much different in this time. Her fingertips slowed, one eyebrow traced with ever-gentle hands. Perhaps... perhaps she'd simply have to accept that she'd never hear him echo her sentiments. The thought sobered her, and she sank back into the pillows.

Feathery touches to his face roused Breandon from a light doze. The double brightness of twin suns speared through the viewport, barely cut by the thin atmosphere of wherever they'd crashed. He winced and slitted his eyes against the glare. "Dawn." His voice was low and scratchy with sleep.

"Mmm?" Her hand found his under the sheets. "Morning," she offered softly, her expression wistful. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a limp noodle, if you want the truth," he returned, squeezing her hand gently. It had been a long time since there had been a woman in his life who could wear him out. He closed peridot eyes as the worries began to set in. "Can I go back to sleep?"

"If you want." Her tone and expression belied her words. "I can just lie here." Rolling over, she eased herself against his chest, wondering if she could truly just remain still and quiet.

He sighed deeply. "I don't particularly want to be here either."

"I know." Somehow, not looking at him made it easier to talk. "They'll find us, though. The distress signal still worked. And really, there are few situations where we can say that no one's going to come and bother us."

Staring at the ceiling, he pursed his lips, then said, "Well, in that case, do you want to go ahead and have that fight you're spoiling for? I'm pretty sure Valère will leave us alone."

"I said I wasn't going to bring it up again, and that it didn't matter." She balled up tighter, knees to her chest. "So you're not ever going to say it, fine. I'll, I'll get used to it. Somehow."

"It wouldn't mean anything if I said it now," he pointed out.

"That's not true," she countered. "It wouldn't mean anything if you didn't want it to mean anything. You're eloquent, you know it's as much about the way you say something as it is about the actual words."

"If that's true, why are the specific words so important? Do you not derive the exact same meaning from the words I prefer to use?"

"Not really. Actions outweigh words, but..." Oh, this man frustrated her to no end! Eyes closed and she let out a long breath. "It's the simplicity and the pureness of those specific ones that make them mean more."

"That's nonsense, and you know it."

"It's not nonsense to me."

"You have a strange idea of how reciprocity in a relationship works."

"I..." Dawn rolled over roughly to face him. "Reciprocity? You're saying that I'm selfish? Selfish to ask that you- wait, no, I'm not going to continue this." She pushed herself up, sheets falling free as she stood with her back to him. "I'll stop being selfish and so utterly demanding of your affections and energies, and I'll make myself useful to get us back home."

"Nobility would become you far better if you didn't get so angry before you employed it. You can't seriously expect me to fall for that guilt trip, Dawn." He lay, infuriatingly calm as ever, gazing at her with amused eyes.

"Don't patronize me," she snapped, folding her arms across her chest.

He merely looked at her. "What more can you want from me? You have my body, my mind, my heart. I have defied the very Guardian of Time herself for you. If these actions are not enough to satisfy your voracious desires, then perhaps we should part upon our return to Crystal Tokyo." He hoped the formality would disguise the severe pangs caused by even thinking those words, much less uttering them.

Her throat tightened and hot tears wet her cheeks. All this lost for three simple words, was it really worth the loss and the pain? Was she truly that selfish to demand that from him, when he had given her every other piece of himself willingly? Naked and vulnerable, Dawn slowly turned to face him. Her voice remained steady, even as her entire body trembled. Just a simple answer, please. "Do you love me?"

Rising to his knees, Breandon met her gaze. Thumbs smeared the tearstreaks on her cheeks as his mouth met hers. When, after a short moment, he lifted away, he said, "As long as you must ask, that is the only answer I will give. Words mean nothing when required."

Dawn choked back a sob, hands wiping at her face. "I... I'm going to go check the beacon," she croaked out, snatching up the clothing she'd worn the night before. "They'll be worried, especially with the escape pods gone..." Her chest tight with worry, she hurriedly pulled the shirt over her head.

As the door slid shut behind her, Breandon whispered, "You are a fool." He could have meant either one of them.

Valère met Dawn on her way down the passageway. "There's been no response to the distress signal yet. It may be because we are too far off the usual space lands, or simply because this is a mercenary ship with mercenary codes." The medic's arm was encased in a cast, her eyes and skin clear from the marks of shock.

"Figures." Dawn paused, eyes trained on the floor for a moment. "I owe you an apology, ma'am," she began, the tinge of formality the only way she figure to show some degree of respect. "My actions haven't been the kindest, and you didn't deserve any of that attitude beforehand." She bobbed her head once, still wiping her eyes. "I'm truly sorry."

Valère laid a hand on Dawn's shoulder. "Shock makes us do strange things." She smiled, a gentle and somehow distant smile. "I accept your apology and forgive you." Taking her hand from Dawn's shoulder, she continued, "I shouldn't worry about the lack of response yet. It will have taken some time for the authorities to trace the ship."

"Yeah, well," Dawn muttered. "I've got another lack of response to worry about. At the moment, it appears as if we'll be found before he says anything."

But Valère only smiled again and continued down the passageway to the infirmary. Dawn took a few steps towards the bridge, then abruptly turned back. "Um, ma'am? Can I ask you something?"

About to enter the infirmary, Valère paused. "Yes?"

"What was that ceremony he was talking about before?" She scratched nervously at a dry patch along her elbow. "I'm not that cultured or familiar with things, and I think I might have, um..." Dawn trailed off, eyes on the floor. "Jumped to the wrong conclusions."

Valère appeared to pause for thought for a moment. "Oh." She looked a little shamefaced. "He saved my life without cause. I owe him fealty now, until I may make an equivalent trade."

"Oh." Dawn winced, her previous fears clearly for nothing. "I get it." Shoulders slumped, but she tried to give the medic a cheerful smile. "I'd assumed something, and it was wrong, and boy, am I stupid." She rubbed at her face with her hands. "How long do you think we have until someone finds us?"

"It is impossible to predict. We could be found in the next moment by a mercenary ship, or not found until you are missed from the Lunar Kingdom." The other woman shrugged. "I do not know how powerful the beacon is, either. You seem to be good with technology; could you possibly strengthen it? It would be a way to pass the time."

A lopsided grin found its way to Dawn's face. "Ma'am, you might not believe it, but I'm not even out of school yet. I just fix things on dumb luck." Hands found pockets, and Dawn glanced in the direction of the bedroom. Attempt an apology, or distract oneself with the ship's transmitter... a tough choice, but the Guardian was no fool. "But hey, I don't have anything better to do, until things clear up. Might as well be useful." A shrug, and she headed back for the bridge. "Thanks," she offered over her shoulder.

"You are indeed welcome, sister." The infirmary door whooshed shut.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Afternoon, ladies." Kis' blonde hair was twisted up in a messy tail, her work uniform relatively clean. She set a paper bag on the ground, the contents clinking as she pulled up a chair. "Y'all are mine, now," she drawled, sitting down and smiling a little too wide at the pair in the cell. "Know why you're here?"

The blue-skinned Kiilian answered Kis with a snarl. "No reason. You've got no call to keep us here."

Kis arched an eyebrow. "No?" She glanced to the other woman whose unruly dark curls were kept back with a tattered red bandanna. "What about you, baby girl?" In reply, Ili offered a smooth and fluid one-fingered salute, complete with a saucy kiss. Kis chuckled and reached into the bag, pulling out a slightly dusty bottle of smuggler's rum. "Y'got spunk, I'll give you that. Good taste, too. This is some good shit." Raising the bottle, she proceeded to take a long obnoxious pull from the bottle.

Kali screeched in outrage while Ili merely sat up a little straighter, adjusting the blue-tinted glasses that perched on her nose. "Half a bottle of that's enough to make a Thoqualian pass out," she noted.

"Well, if I'm asleep and you're still in there, then you'll be spending the night." She set the bottle next to her. "Admiral's not going to say anything either." Kis grinned at Kali, enjoying the animated display of rage and perceived injustice. "So, we got a missing Guardian, and rumour has it that she was taken by some bounty hunters." Fingers closed around the neck of the bottle. "Heard anything about it?"

"We didn't take your Guardian, you crazy rum-stealing bitch!" Kali shrieked.

Kis leered as if to say 'Wrong answer' and brought the bottle to her lips again.

"We don't have her and didn't have a part in the transport, but that doesn't mean we didn't consider the offer," Ili offered smoothly. "Share?"

"Who made the offer?" Kis countered.

The merc captain waggled a finger from behind the bars. "You share, then I share."

Kis obliged, pulling a tin cup from the bag and filling it to the brim. Handing it to the captain, she distinctly heard Kali whimper. "Yes?"

"Mine?"

"You're not cooperating," Kis pointed out, setting the bottle down. "You know who put out the bounty on the Guardian?"

The first officer turned to her captain, red eyes pleading. "Ili, c'mon, just one sip, a little taste."

"You know ship rules. Share everything else, but you're on your own for drinks." She knocked back the rum with a flourish.

Kali gave an agonized wail, hastily snatching up the cup and running her fingers along the inside for a few precious drops. "Just let me know who pit out the call," Kis repeated, enjoying herself. "I'll give you the other bottle to share."

"Share?" The cellmates exchanged glances, the silence an odd occurrence among them.

Kis grinned and took a swig, knowing full well she'd be too drunk to stand if she took another swallow. "Share. Think you can maybe give me a little..."

"Arronné family. Syrrene put two out, one on the Guardian and one on her hot boy-toy that Syrrene couldn't have. _CopperHawk_'s crew probably took it, since Fehri's crazy as shit and stupid enough to believe that the Arronnés pay bounties." Ili put her hand out for the bottle.

True to her word, Kis relinquished the rum. "And you?" She waggled a full bottle at Kali, grinning. "Anything you'd like to add for your very own bottle?"

Ten minutes later, a very drunk officer trudged out of the spaceport, the formulas for the _CopperHawk_'s energy signature scrawled on the chest area of her uniform. True, her methods were unconventional, but for once, the Admiral probably wouldn't care.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

She needed a shower. Fingers ran through slightly greasy hair before she twisted the auburn mass back up with a carefully-placed hinge pin. Dawn sighed audibly, neck and shoulders sore from having crouched under a console all morning. Now, her stomach demanded food, and she assumed that her companions would probably want the same thing. Kneeling on the floor of the galley, she methodically began to pull up floorplates, searching the stores for something remotely edible.

Approaching footsteps echoed off the walls. "Dawn?" Breandon stopped short in the door, confronted with Dawn's rear end. "Ah, Dawn?"

"Mmm?" She sat back on her heels, pulling up a metal box of dried produce. "Oh, hey doll. Hungry?" She gestured to her find. "We might not starve after all."

He crouched beside her, taking the box from her hand and tipping it back and forth. "I'm more concerned about the lack of water. I think the crash damaged some of the water purification system. The supply has been getting steadily lower over the last three days."

She chewed on her lip, nodding slowly. "Well, probably. I could try to fix it, but I might do more harm than good." Rubbing her neck, Dawn looked down at the storage space. She doubted there was much more than what she'd found, and certainly no spare water jugs. "And I think I upped the beacon signal," she offered wearily. "If someone bothered to look this far out, we'd be found in a heartbeat."

Breandon held up his hand for silence. "I hear voices." The pair strained their ears.

"The scan turned up three lifesigns, ma'am."

"Right. Split up and search the ship. Bring back anything that looks salvageable while you're at it. Make it so."

"Ma'am!"

Breandon looked at Dawn. "Maybe you should change your name to Cassandra."

She blinked. "Maybe." Carefully, she slid to the far side of the galley, doing her best not to make any noise. "Or maybe I'll just henshin and hope they have -- " The door slid open, Dawn's brilliant plan cut short by their visitor. She stared up guiltily, unsure of how to respond.

Their discoverer appeared equally surprised at the young woman on the floor, even as a small phaser swung down to target her chest. "Are you alone?"

The soft chink of a blaster being drawn from the holster answered her. "Don't point that at her. The ship's bad enough off as it is."

Running footsteps interrupted the stand-off, as a pale figure burst into the room. "Athenée, Rivka found Valè ... why are you pointing a blaster at these people? They're refugees, not prisoners."

Athenée twisted to look at the newcomer, setting her long silver braids swirling around her legs. "This is the ship that captured Zorya and Valère. Therefore -- don't move!" she snapped as Breandon began to kneel by Dawn. "Therefore, these two must have had a part in it."

"Aw, hell."

Dawn rolled her eyes, hands raised palm up. "Um, no. Sorry to disappoint you, but we'd make lousy kidnappers." She twisted back to see Breandon. "Doll, let's put that away. You'll scare the pretty lady, okay?" A forced smile on her face, she glanced over to the fourth person. "We got taken hostage by Fehri three or four days ago. Valère's been taking care of us, that's all."

Athenée's blaster sagged, and an expression of grief passed over her face. Placing an arm around her shoulders, the newcomer began to guide her toward the door. "You two come along," she ordered. Breandon exchanged a glance with Dawn, then shrugged and tucked the blaster away.

She scrambled to her feet ungracefully, reaching for his hand. "Is this a good thing?" she whispered, voice steady as her hand trembled.

"Since clearly there's some reunion of long-lost crew members here, I don't think we're going to be left behind. Whether we get back to Crystal Tokyo ... " he whispered back, gripping her hand. "If you think you can manage it, let me do the talking."

"Okay." Swallowing hard, she stayed close to him as they followed these new people down the hallways. "No Senshi, either?"

"Not until we know whose side they're on."

"'Kay." She squeezed his hand, more for her own reassurance than his. "Love you, doll," she murmured before they stopped in front of the infirmary.

They entered the room, to find Valère being embraced by a tiny, voluptuous woman bearing familiar Lunar captain's stars on her sleeve. Breandon tugged Dawn over to the side of the room that seemed least occupied. "Valère, is this our rescue?"

"This is Rivka, captain of the _Basilikya_," she replied fondly. "My captain," she added, a note of pride in her voice.

Breandon swept a bow. "My pleasure." Dawn decidedly didn't like the way he eyed the captain. "May I assume, my lady, that you will be our transport off this barren planet?" he continued.

"You may not." Rivka drew herself up as much as her height allowed, eyeing Breandon doubtfully. "That would be up to your caretaker, I believe."

"But -- " Dawn blurted out, promptly covering her mouth to stifle further outbursts.

Breandon turned to Valère politely, who knelt before Rivka, bracing one hand on the floorplates. "Chavi Rivka, I have sworn my life to this man."

"Why?"

"I kneel, living, before you today as a result of his actions and those of the woman who is his partner."

Rivka glanced over at Breandon and Dawn, silver eyes thoughtful and narrow. Valère continued, "Fehri is dead due to them." She looked up at her captain, and matching cruel smiles widened the mouths of all the women in the room except Dawn.

Rivka walked over to Breandon, thumbs thrust into her belt, and circled him slowly. Brilliantly red hair brushed the floorplates. Dawn didn't like the way the captain eyed Breandon, either. She hugged his arm a bit more tightly, possessively.

Breandon tried not to watch the captain circle him like some kind of female vulture, and began to study the other women who had come with her. The one called Athenée had hair as long as Rivka's, twined in a pair of long braids. A spacer's jumpsuit showed off a tall, lean body, as far different from Rivka's as bananas are from apples. The woman next to her, lounging familiarly against a bulkhead, looked enough like Breandon remembered Zorya looking to be her twin -- tall, dark-skinned, dark-haired, with glittering blue-green eyes.

Dawn's fingers nudging him in the side brought him back from idle musings. Chavi Rivka stood before him, flanked by her crew, hands on hips. "If we take you off this rock, that will settle the lifedebt between you and Valère. You saved her life, we save yours. Once you are returned home, there will be no more bonds between us. Agreed?"

Breandon never hesitated. He thrust his hand out immediately, grasping Rivka's and shaking it. "Agreed."

"You two got anything else you need off this hulk?"

Dawn cleared her throat a bit more noisily than she'd intended. "I do, ma'am, if you wouldn't mind." Slightly intimidated by the red-tressed captain, the Guardian bobbed her head in a submissive fashion. "It was my birthday back when we got kidnapped, and I got a little trinket. Nothing fancy, but it's awfully special and, well..." She offered a half-smile to Breandon as well as the rest of the crew. "Two minutes to get it, please, ma'am?"

Rivka gestured toward the door. "Valère, you should get your gear from the infirmary as well. Go with her."

Breandon wrapped an arm around Dawn's shoulders briefly, then pushed her gently toward the door. "Go on, love."

Dawn's step faltered slightly at the last word, prompting her to nearly trip through the entry. It was close enough, as far as she was concerned. One hand remained on the wall as she turned back. She bestowed a giddy smile upon Breandon, unable to keep from giggling. He'd almost said it, really. He'd managed to say the word in direct reference to her, even after all of the sniping and arguing they'd done. "Going," she laughed. "Love you," she added in parting, not bothering to wait for any sort of response.