Hold - Fast is the Only Dog

Author: crihavoc
E-Mail: crihavoc@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: Just rooting around in someone else's attic for a while...I'll put everything back where I found it, promise. And, none the worse for wear.
Rating: Eh, um, say... PG - 13
Timeframe: After the fearsome threesome have returned to Moya following the events of "Family Ties" and "Mind the Baby."

“How do you think it happened?” Valin asked, leaning his forearms on the table.

“’Dunno.” Sag shrugged. “Marto, you think a Carrier could do it?”

“Nah, thing is shielded up the arse.” Marto frowned down at scratches in the table – top. He began to trace them with his fingernail. ‘Techs’ve got the latest stuff at a frelling Gammak base.”

Tika took a pull from her glass. “Too tough for aerial assault, too shielded for frag fire… how does it get turned into a crater?”

“Shove an asteroid into it? Kinetic impact?” Valin sniffed the air. “Gah! What is that jak smoking?”

“What d’you use to push the rock? Reg’lar k’netic round won’t nack the building composites. You’d need something frellin’ huge, like a…”

“Shut up, you idiot frells.” Troop Leader Dank growled from behind them. “If I wanted to see what you thought about the job, I’d squeeze your heads.” She looked around the bar room, hands on her hips. Her eyes shifted to the four of them and she shook her head, grimacing. “Don’t shoot your frelling mouths off. It’s my arse if you do.” She pushed off towards the bar.

“It’s my arse if you do…” Marto imitated in a sing – song falsetto, bobbing his head. “Frelling whiney bitch.”

“She’s got a point, Marto.” Tika said, cleaning her nails with an unsheathed blade. She looked up at the man. “This whole thing has got a stink about it.” She snorted. “No one does a Gammak base.”

Valin raised a scrawny arm towards the passing Server. “Four ales, and four shots.” The creature waved a sinuous limb in acknowledgement. “No,” he said. “Someone did for that base. That…” he looked around quickly, and leaned to the middle of the table.

“That Crichton.” He whispered.

“Dren!” Sag expelled, and sat back in his chair. It creaked alarmingly at his bulk. “There’s no frellin’ way…” He began, loudly.

“Oop.” He finished, abruptly, as Tika elbowed him in the fat over his ribs. Troop Dank was watching them from her place at the bar. “Bitch.” He muttered, rubbing the impact point.

“Softly, you tub of waste.”

“I think it was an inside job.” Marto said. The other three stared at him, open –mouthed. He smirked. “Gotcha.”

“Oh, dren!” Valin laughed, crossing his arms over his middle. “Dren!”

“Oh, that was good, Marto.” Tika gasped.

Sag just shook his head, his sides heaving. Sweat bubbled across his forehead.

The drinks arrived, the server slamming the shots and ales down simultaneously, a whip – crack of limbs and liquid. Valin wiped some liquor from his face with the back of his hand. The large creature at the next table abruptly rose and made towards the easement chamber. “Get any on ya?” he called after the broad back. It paused for a microt, then continued on. He turned and locked eyes with the Nebari female still sitting at the table. “Got a problem, tralk?” The creature angled her head to the side as she studied him, then sniffed and turned away.

“Trying to start something?” Tika asked.

“That jak’d knock your head out your arse.” Sag added happily, jerking a thumb towards the easement chamber door.

Valin threw back his shot and slammed the glass down. “Won’t happen! I’ll put paid to any alien scum…” his voice rose and his bleary eyes shifted over the room. “Alien scum that frells with Valin Trun, Neffik Regiment, Special Assignment Group.” He jerked his chin in a semi - nod to his fellows as they pounded the table in ironic applause. Creatures at the tables around the four eyed him contemptuously. He turned, but the eyes of the Nebari were hidden by her shock of whitish hair. Her jaw muscles were taut.

Sag leaned over, causing the table to groan. “I’m sure evey’one nearby has ‘vacuated themselves…”

“Frell you. And you…” he said, pointing at Tika, “not a word.” She stuck her blade in the table -top, put both hands up and raised her eyebrows.

Marto grinned as he watched Dank slowly pound her head onto the surface of the bar. “Friends, Troop’s still watching us. We’re making her bloody life miserable. Let’s drink to it.” He turned to find the Server.

However, the Server was already there. Another round thudded to the table - top, fall – out splattering them a microt behind. The group exchanged glances.

“Ah, who ordered that one?”

“’Dunno.”

The eye – nodules of the server were pointed away, but a trailing limb gestured towards a two – top at the back of the bar room.

As the group turned to look, the Nebari female lithely rose to her feet. She deliberately knocked into Valin’s chair with her hip, causing him to start and turn towards her. “Check your pocket, Peacekeeper.” She breathed through gritted teeth. “Surprise for you.”

As Valin looked down at his tunic, she slapped him across the back of the head. He jerked up with a curse on his lips, but her slim form disappeared in the crush around the bar.

Marto studied the occupants of the table across the bar suspiciously. “Who the frell is that?”

Putting down his empty shot – glass, Sag rumbled: “They look Sebacean. Maybe they like you, Valin?” He raised an eyebrow and licked his thick lips suggestively. “Maybe you found some new friends with your little speech, huh?”

Valin scowled at him, and moved his eyes to the ragged strip of sheet – composite pulled from his chest pocket. His lips moved as he read the inscription.

“Love note?” Sag continued to press his interpretation of events. He snarled as Valin kicked him under the table.

“Shut the frell up, you fat bastard. “ Valin leaned towards the center of the table, and pointed with two fingers at the table across the floor. “Some jak wants to ask me questions.” He flicked at the sheet – composite with a fingertip. “Right here, says it’ll be ‘worth my while.’” He leaned back. “Hell!”

Marto snorted.

Tika rubbed her nose thoughtfully. “Someone should go over there.”

Valin grinned. “Why don’t we all go over there. We roll ‘em, we’ll drink free all night.”

“Now that…” replied Marto, “is an idea.” He slammed his fist down onto the table for emphasis. Sag picked up Valin’s grin, even as he rubbed his leg. Tika shrugged and pushed her chair back.

The two – top was occupied by a male and female, dressed as natives. Her hood was down, her face blank as she watched the squad stagger over. The male’s hood was raised, obscuring his face. He placed his hand over his mouth and coughed briefly, then lowered the hood, revealing brown hair and a scar that tracked from left eye to chin. His eyes flickered across their faces.

Sag leaned over and rested his large fists on the center of the small table. It began to bend towards the two with an alarming crack. “Right. Here’s how it’s going t’be. You give us…”

“Back off, Crisco.” The male said, and suddenly a pulse – pistol was under Sag’s chin.

The rest of the squad grabbed for their weapons.

“Stop if you want to live, Neffiks.” The female said. Two pulse pistols were steady in her hands. The troopers froze.

“Damn. They must not like you much?” The gun under Sag’s chin pushed up briefly.

Sag, sweating profusely, gave a sickly grin in response. “They really don’t.”

“We really don’t.” Valin confirmed with a nod. But his hands stayed clear of his weapons.

The table occupants exchanged glances. “This is going well.” The female said, raising an eyebrow.

“Just wait. All part of the plan.” He replied. She rolled her eyes.

Slowly, he removed the gun from under Sag’s jowls. As the big Neffik recoiled, he laid the pulse - pistol down on the table and carefully placed his palms flat to either side. “All I want is to talk, guys. Pull up some chairs and have a drink with us.”

“Yeah, right.” Valin replied scornfully.

“Do it, frell - face.” The female growled. Her two pistols had disappeared.

“I think I’ll join you.” Valin muttered. He grabbed the only free seat at the table. The others pulled chairs from the immediate area and warily sat down. Sag positioned himself so that Tika was partially between him and the pistol on the table - top. The owner removed it and placed it within his robe.

“How,” Tika asked, with a sidelong glance at Marto, “how did you know we’re Neffik.”

The female eyed her coldly. “I know Neffik Regiment. You ‘soldiers’ measure down to their sorry standards. So, put the blade you’re pulling out back in the sheath…” she leaned forward and frowned for emphasis, “or you’ll be one dead piece of Neffik dren.”

“What’s your Regiment, you bloody skank?” Tika started to rise, only to have Marto force her down into her seat. She slapped his hand away from her shoulder.

The female had not moved. She shook her head slightly, her eyes hooded.

“Kids…” the male interrupted, with a forced grin, “can’t we all just get along?”

The grin faded in the glare of five pairs of eyes. “Ok, so maybe we can’t. Hey!” he yelled to the Server, “Over here, pal. Some more of that primo rocket – fuel.”

His companion, still leaning on the table, cleared her throat. “You’ve been talking about a destroyed Gammak base. In violation of secrecy protocols.”

The squad – members were silent. Then, they all began to swear simultaneously.

Tika shook her head violently. “We’re bloody screwed, aren’t we.” She leaned back in her chair and pointed a finger at the male. “You’re Intelligence section.”

His face remained blank under her scrutiny. His companion turned to look at him, as well.

“If we were members, “ he began slowly, then stopped. “Let me put it to you this way: Officer Talyn,” he gestured to the female “and myself are on special assignment. “ He leaned forward and said, softly, “For High Command Counter – counter Intelligence.”

Tika swallowed. Sag jerkily wiped at his forehead. Marto frowned.

“Counter – counter intelligence?” Valin said, loudly. The Intelligence operative reached across the table and grabbed the front of the soldier’s duty - tunic in both fists. “Do you have a deathwish, idiot?” He hissed. He shook Valin and then pushed him back into his seat.

Pausing to straighten his robe, the operative continued. “Our sources tell us that you’ve been working at the former site of that base. You may have come into information vital to the pursuit of several fugitives…”

“Crichton.” Sag muttered from behind Tika. The male’s head shot around.

“What did you say, Crisco?”

Sag began to sweat again. “I was saying, this probably has something to do with Crichton.”

The male tilted his head. “What do you know about this, this Crichton?”

“Frell, “ Valin said, “he’s some kind of alien death – machine.”

“They say he’s ugly as a Scarran’s scaly rear.” Sag added, nodding sagely

Officer Talyn began to cough.

“Any other details you might want to share?” The male seemed irritated.

Marto drummed his fingers on the table - top and the Intelligence - man looked over to him. “Look, I don’t know why you’re pumping us here, ah, sir. I want to help, we all…” he gestured to his squad – mates, “we all want to help you.” He shrugged. “It’s just, we’re not exactly where the action is at the clean - up.”

Tika nodded. “We heard the crater was this Gammak base. They didn’t tell us right off. And, we heard that Arse - ugly…”

“Scorpius.” Valin whispered, darting his eyes around.

Tika punched him hard in the shoulder. “Shut up. Somehow, Arsius got his hands on this jak, an alien like no one’s ever seen. Stuck him in this scary toy the Techs whisper about, frelled him all up.” She tapped the table with her fingernail slowly, in unconscious syncopation to her words. “This bugger got loose. Somehow, Arsius got a Command Carrier to run him down with.” She looked to her fellows. “That’s when a name finally came out: Crichton. It’s like some kind of new curse, you say it loud, you get slapped down. What’s wrong with you?” The Intelligence - man had paled during the monologue, veins standing out on the backs of his clenched hands.

“John?” Officer Talyn asked, concerned. He looked over to her, then back at Tika.

He shook his head ruefully. “Just thinking about all the waste at that base.”

“Yeah,” Valin echoed. He looked at Tika, and then added: “Right after Scorpius leaves, the base gets leveled. All gone, ka - blooey” John frowned and wiped spit from his face.

“Then they called us in, “ Sag interjected. “’All the waste’ is bloody right.”

Valin agreed. “That’s when they called us in: Neffik Regiment.”

“Cleaners, as usual?” Talyn inquired.

Valin nodded. “That’s right. We’re ‘the Cleaners’…” he looked around, and turned to John. “Ah, I’m getting kind of dry here…”

“I hear you.” John stood. “Hey, octopussy! Hello! Yeah, you.” He turned to Officer Talyn. “What do you have to do to get a drink around here? Geez.”

“I’m glad you’re not calling attention to us, John.” Talyn responded woodenly.

“Uh – oh.” Troop Leader Dank was making her way across the room towards them, moving with great vigor and little muscle control. “Guys, I think your boss wants you.”

As one, the squad turned to regard Troop Dank. “Oh, dren.” Valin muttered, as Dank stumbled into a table of Zachnids and cuffed one out of her way. “She’s a nasty drunk.”

“Well, well…” Dank slurred as she approached the group. “Who’re your new frelling ugh!”

The Server had appeared with the latest round for the table, approaching from the Troop Leader’s blind side, and knocked her sprawling. Dank knelt on one knee, sputtering and wiping at the spilled ale that dripped across her face. Marto grinned in delight and then quickly hid the expression as Dank staggered to her feet. Her face mottled with spots of red, Dank limped to the table and scowled at them all. “You frelling bags of…”

Officer Talyn had her mouth open, but it was her companion that barked: “Shut up, Troop Leader! Stand at attention! Damn you, attention!”

Stunned, Dank acquiesced to cycles of discipline and assumed an intoxicated version of the Peacekeeper parade - rest. The Neffiks stiffened in their seats as well and regarded both their leader and John with wide eyes. Talyn gave a half – smile and nodded to herself.

In a more moderate tone, John continued: “Troop Leader Dank, I wanted to thank you for the opportunity to speak to your squad – members.” He paused as the Server attacked the table – top with more ale. “They have been most helpful to us.” John continued pleasantly, gesturing to himself and Officer Talyn.

“Just who the frell are you…ah, sir.” Dank croaked, swaying slightly.

“They’re bloody Intelligence section, you fool.” Valin hissed loudly, hand raised to cover his mouth. “Don’t frelling get us Retired.”

“Counter – counter Intelligence…” Sag choked out.

“Oh.” Dank paled, her swaying more pronounced. “Oh, frell.” She slowly looked around her. “Permission to sit, sirs.”

“Find a chair.” John made a downward motion with his hand. “Take a load off.”

Dank broke her stance, grabbed at a nearby chair and dragged it awkwardly over to the table. However, when she went to sit, only her left buttock made contact with the chair, knocking it aside. She fell heavily to the ale – puddled floor. Everyone winced, and exchanged glances. Marto choked out a laugh.

“Ow.” After a moment, Dank’s voice came from the floor. “I think I just broke my bum.” Her hands appeared at the edge of the table, and then her watering eyes. She struggled to a crouch. Valin righted her chair and moved it over for her, and she gingerly sat down. Marto shook his head disgustedly.

John pushed a full glass across the table at her. “Here, have some.”

She took a long pull at the glass, and studied him over the edge. “You’ve got some strange eyes.”

Valin and Tika both rolled their eyes. Marto coughed on a swallow of ale. Sag, who had missed the comment, leaned forward. Officer Talyn gave a tight grin.

“Oh, yeah?” John responded.

“Never seen that color blue before.” Dank continued. She took another drink. “Ever.” She turned to Marto. “Ever seen that color?”

“Ah, no. Don’t go around usually, looking into a male’s eyes. Not that lonely, yet.”

The table lapsed into a microt of uncomfortable silence.

Valin, eyeing John, slowly straightened from his slouched position. “You gave up your drink?” He asked in a strangely intense voice.

Puzzled, John nodded. “Uh, yeah?”

Valin continued. “You ever drink?” Tika leaned forward, her hands clenching.

John frowned. “Not for a while, pal.” Talyn was frowning, her hands hidden beneath her robe.

Tika and Valin exchanged glances across the table and the female swore. She pushed her chair away from the table abruptly. “We’re out, squad.”

Marto’s jaw dropped.

“What?” Dank asked thickly, her head drooping close to the table – top.

Valin grabbed her arm. “C’mon, Troop, we don’t want to be here.” He glanced at John and licked his lips nervously. “He’s a real Cleaner.” He pulled Dank out of her chair.

Sag leaned forward and reached for the Troop Leader’s unfinished ale. Tika knocked it off of the table and onto the floor. “What?” he said.

“Think, you piece of dren. Intelligence section. Not drinking. Weird eyes…” her voice rose. “He’s a Disruptor!”

Sag recoiled. “Frell!” His head tilted as he studied John’s eyes. “Frell! Y’know what? I bet you those is the new ocular transceivers!” He knocked a chair aside in his retreat. “Someone’s been watching us this whole time!”

“Hey!” John called after them. He turned to his companion. “Disruptor?”

She grinned as she watched the Neffiks attempt a retreat through the crowd. “They’re not making much progress, are they.” She turned to him. “A Disruptor is an Intelligence Section Prosecutor. No one knows too much about them. They gather intelligence, disrupt enemy operations, act as hunter – killers. They show up behind enemy lines,” she frowned, “or at units that are inefficient in the execution of orders. People die. Quickly.” She began to grin again and shook her head at him. “You, a Disruptor. If they only knew.” Aeryn Sun’s head turned quickly at the sound of a scream.

“They think I’m an assassin?” John Crichton asked, turning as well.

The Zachnids from earlier, seeing an opportunity, had attacked the Neffiks in a whirl of chitinous limbs. A black claw pierced Tika’s shoulder and she screamed again. Dank fell as a dark shape leapt upon Valin’s back.

Crichton began to rise. “We should help…”

Aeryn grabbed his arm. “Don’t worry about them. They’re Neffiks.”

“Aeryn, what does that mean. I’ve been playing along, but what’s this ‘Cleaner’ stuff? What are Neffiks?”

A group of tusked bipeds, having eyed the Peacekeepers since Valin’s earlier boast, joined the fight. In his eagerness to tackle Valin, one male knocked a Zachnid from its perch on Valin’s back. The enraged Zachnid whipped out with a clawed limb and the unfortunate newcomer attempted to cover the resulting wound in its thorax with a three - fingered hand. Azure blood began to pool on the floor.

Aeryn thoughtfully pulled at her lower lip. “Not all PeaceKeeper regiments are involved with combat. There are regiments that are responsible for logistics, for the care of wounded…” She jerked her chin in the direction of the out – numbered squad, “and regiments that are responsible for post – conflict maintenance.”

“Post – conflict maintenance? What, like a janitor?” John cocked his head at her.

“The Special Operations Group of the Neffik Maintenance Regiment are transported to a battle – site when the battle’s been won.” This was uttered with all of the contempt a line – soldier could muster for a rear – echelon bumbler. “They ‘recruit’ all available native resources in the area, and use those resources to go about ‘cleaning’ up the site: body disposal, weapons recovery, prisoner consolidation, the removal of debris and material…”

“Cleaners?”

“Cleaners.”

A Zachnid, attempting to leap, slipped on the spreading pool of blue and fell heavily. Its high – pitched wail attenuated as Sag fell atop it, and ceased when Tika drove her blade into its primary eye.

“What happens to these ‘native resources?’”

Aeryn looked at him for several microts. “They live, if they’re Sebacean.”

“Oh, hell.” John turned back to the brawl. “I was sort of starting to not hate those guys.” He cupped his hands over his eyes and sighed. He then rubbed the palms briskly over his eyes and forehead. “Damn, I’m tired.”

“John,” Aeryn said coldly. “That was stupid. You frelled up your scar.”

The bar room before them was a roiling mass of bodies. A figure dove out from the scrum, recognizable as Valin, bleeding from several minor wounds. He looked around wildly, saw a group of patrons blocking the exit and scrambled in the direction of the easement chamber.

“Hey, Heavy – D?” Crichton spoke into the com –link pinned to the interior of his robe sleeve.

“What, John?”

“Aeryn and I are going to head for the ‘pod. You’ve got a Peacekeeper coming your way.”

A bass chuckle came from the ‘com. “Good. I’ll join you shortly.”

John motioned towards the doorway, barely visible through the lively fight. “After you?”

As Aeryn stepped forward, two of the tusked bipeds detached themselves from the crowd around the Peacekeepers and blocked their way.

“Going to help friends?” one croaked.

“Those guys?” John said, with a polite smile. “Not any friends of ours.”

“Were sitting together.” the croaker continued, gesturing towards the vacated table with two of his four broad hands.

“Couldn’t wait for them to go.”

“Enough with the talk.” Aeryn groused loudly. Her right side – kick took the croaker in his thick neck and sent him staggering back. She stamped her right foot to the ground and pivoted upon it, flowing into a spinning back – kick that knocked the other creature twirling through a spume of blue mucus. Eyebrows raised in appreciation, John followed her through the carnage. They stepped over Dank, mumbling loudly from the floor.

Something slipped around Crichton’s neck, dragging him off – balance. “Hey!” He dug backwards with an elbow and the tight grip loosened. He turned, and saw a vaguely human creature reaching for him. He swung out with his elbow again and struck it in chest. The hide was softer than he expected. His attacker fell to floor, sucking air through a contorted mouth.

“Nice,” Aeryn said encouragingly, “right in the myvox.”

He looked at the mewling sentient, grimaced and wiped a hand against his robe. “Man, that’s got to hurt…”

Aeryn grabbed his arm and propelled him towards the door.

Valin tried to catch his breath inside the easement chamber. His back was to the wall, across from the entrance. Hoarse breathing echoed from the easement station to his right. He eyed the doorway nervously, his fingers adjusting their grip on the haft of his blade.

He pounded on the easement station door. “I don’t care who you are, jak. Finish your business and get the frell out.”

The occupant rose, its head visible over the top portion of the easement station. It was the large creature from the Nebari female’s table.

The giant, wrapped in a native robe, pushed open the ‘station door. It tilted its head back and studied the blade Valin held, then smiled a predatory smile. Valin’s knife – hand trembled.

“This isn’t the place to compare…” the creature rumbled, one arm motioning to their surroundings, “but I have to let you know…” The creature’s other hand went beneath it’s robe, and slowly unsheathed a long, long sword. “Mine is bigger than yours.”

After a microt, they both looked at the floor.

The giant dropped his sword and sighed. “Go ahead and clean that up…”

The End