Shane stepped out of his shop in his cloak and normal clothes, his dark brown eyes sparkling as he hefted a case over his back by its strap and headed down the street. His insides exploded so divinely every time he thought of the Nebari woman and his long night of such tender passion. He had never felt such wondrous pleasure in his life and it had been so very long since he had felt the touch of a woman. The way she gazed on him, her touches, her delicate voice so filled with the full freedom of her ecstasy, the way she made him feel as if he could have thrown himself into the wash of a tidal wave. He woke up without her, gone just as mysteriously as she had come to him and all he did was sweep! He already missed her smell, her warmth, the way she kissed him. It had to of been the most profound experience of his life apart from a rather unusual encounter with a Delvian. He felt something crack against his shoulder and stepped back, shaking his head slightly as he realized he just ran into a wall.

He gently rubbed at the sudden pain in his shoulder as he continued down the street at a casual pace, not really in a big hurry to get anywhere, unaware of the small smile that seemed permanently placed on his thin lips. He tried to keep her out of his mind but it kept sweeping up into him, his sense of release and such intimate sharing thriving through him. He wanted her again, he felt so amiss without waking to her he couldn't even think straight enough to work on his glass. Who was she? Where was she going? What had she seemed so afraid of, so sad, so desperate herself for someone else's touch ... What was she doing now? He felt too restless to stay home. He wasn't even sure of where he was headed until he had remembered a Scarren general who had asked him for a special request to make him a costume sword a month ago. He had declined but ... now he felt like doing something - unimaginably exquisite.

He walked the two miles to the Scarren's grand estate on the edge of the citadel. General Corrum. He only hoped he might be home now. After the PeaceKeeper's had lost a base to some renegade attack and several sectors had suffered the damages of the air fight that followed the citadel was in an uproar and General Corrum was reputed to be in a more or less very nasty disposition. He heard the rumors he had joined several other warlords to try to regain some war prisoner, the new master of the estates of warlords Setig and Pagar but he really hadn't been paying much attention to all the politics and rumors of the Scarren's and the PeaceKeeper's. If anything they made him look worse and just revived those old feelings between PeaceKeeper's and the Sebacean colonists who had been here first. They didn't like not having any authority over Rashari civilians that were Sebacean and those like him who had questionable backgrounds were their more favorite targets. The worse things were, the better off he felt in thoughts of packing up for another peaceful colony nobody would bother him ... but trouble would follow. It always did. He didn't relish the idea of leaving the world he called his home and dedicated so much of himself into either. He just wished uncharteds could have meant something like - PeaceKeeperless.

*************

 Setig opened his eyes as Mokan helped the doctor finish the stitches to the lash in his neck. Geyo blinked at the Scarren nervously as he froze holding the Scarren's new arm as if he had just been caught trying to steal it.

"Uh," Geyo spoke gently as he very carefully laid the arm over Setig's chest. "It's not a bug."

"What," Setig curled his lips into a snarl as he narrowed his eyes on Geyo. "I can't have this! I can't protect Lord Crichton's family and my home like this!"

He growled as he threw out the arm and the fingers inside it splayed out again like a centipede. "What the frell are these fingers for? I'll be shot on sight!"

"According to Jasmin it's an arm of the former pilots of this ship," Geyo stated gently as he scratched his chin. "Genetically it's patterned after them but meant for patching up their servicers like Jasmine."

"The arm of a slave!" Setig bellowed as he sat up, clenching the clawed hand of the arm into a fist. "Frelling useless! You may as well sell me to General Corrum that I might wager our security out of his mercy for a comrad! Lady Chiana will be reduced to a ward, my house will have no honor left! Why don't you idiots just frelling kill me?"

"You'll manage," Mokan spoke quietly as she planted her hand on his shoulder and leaned closer to his ear. "That arm is as strong as dirlithium tirithinate, it's a metal so strong you can't even work it with fire and it's far lighter than your frelling hezmana arm! My Stealth Fighter is made out of the stuff and you've seen how frag fire barely damages my actual outer hull."

Setig laughed as he swung his arm around. "My hezmana arm ..."

"You'll be fine," Mokan smiled wry as she patted his shoulder. "Don't be such a baby."

******************************

Chiana returned to the grove and stepped into the house. She laxed, relief drowning through her as D'argo came to her with Dora and rested her in her arms.

"Dora," she sighed with a gentle smile as she sat at the kitchen table with her daughter. "Is she out of feeding viles yet?"

"She eats almost worse than Rygel," D'argo smiled. "We had to move her along to ricenan paste."

"Already?" Chiana gaped at him as she looked up.

"She's a little ball of eat, sleep, cry and dren," D'argo spoke with amusement as he let his breath out through his nostrils.

"You look like dren," Chiana commented as she narrowed her eyes on him softly.

"Oh yes," he sighed heavily. "We had an encounter with two Scarren's challenging us for the grove. They nearly killed Setig. They chopped off his arm."

"Challengers," Chiana's eyes widened on D'argo wildly. "Chopped off Setig's arm ..."

"Mokan is at Jothee's new ship now trying to salvage his honor somehow," D'argo stated with a slight nod of his head. "This could endanger the estates."

"Well frell yeah," Chiana tensed, furrowing her brows as she tilted her head at him. "What did you say to them?"

"I didn't say anything," D'argo spoke gently as he raised his brows. "They wanted the grove."

"So he chops of Setig's arm?" Chiana raised her brows, her eyes widening as she suddenly laughed.

"Chiana," D'argo curved his head into a tilt as he sighed heavily. "It isn't safe without Crichton's presence. Something needs to be done."

Chiana sighed as she looked away.

"Mokan didn't debrief me as much as I probably should have been," D'argo spoke more gently as he softened his eyes on her. "Chiana, the only thing I know is that Scorpius took Dora from you ... you - could you have any idea how I feel wondering if you're hurt, so badly ..."

"I'm fine," she muttered as she moved away from him, not wanting to see the tears that threaghtened his eyes. "Just leave me alone right now."

"Are you pregnant with another child?"

Chiana sucked in her breath as she stopped, her eyes widening as Dora shifted in her hold and let out a sleepy mumble. She tocked her head as she continued to the stairs. D'argo followed as Chiana came to the stair case and paused. He touched her shoulder gently as she closed her eyes, swaying slightly.

"I'm just going to go rest," she spoke quietly. "While Dora's still sleeping."

She opened her eyes slowly as he drew his firm, gentle hold from her shoulder and continued up the stairs.

*************

"General," Shane half bowed his head as he faced the Scarren in a large room that looked almost more like the helm of a ship. Corrum stood to the right wall that was made up like a kind of control center with a helm against a portal screen showing space and Rasharies dark blue moon.

The Scarren turned to him. He was a huge man, built like an iron brick house and standing perhaps a head taller or more than six feet. His barrel chest was strapped in leathers, wearing a dark red kilt of some kind with tailored boots. He narrowed his piercing black eyes on Shane, curling his lip to reveal a long, semi curved fang in his sharp teeth.

"You asked me before about a costume blade," Shane spoke in a firm voice. "I'd like to make it."

"Shane Noroff," Corrum growled in a low tone as he smiled and came to the center of the room. "Unfortunately I have changed my mind, Shane. I want someone to make me that."

He pointed to a halbred on his wall of about seven feet in length with a sweeping leaf like blade and an almost pulse rifle shape contoured into its center. It's other end was counter balanced with a metal ball. It was something like the weapons of much older times like the qualta blades. It could act as a halbred meant for royals, warlords and generals in field combats of honor, it could also pulse fire and the metal ball on the other end could jolt an enemy on impact with a standard amount of stunning volts they were supposed to endure. It had also been a way of prompting the foot soldiers to pan out the weaker ones who fell to their knees from the blow. In more recent times though the halbreds had become a Scarren symbol of their royal decents and conquests, like a scepter. Those who had these halbred/sceptors were honorarily considered Scarren royalty whose houses could not be challenged except by another scepter carrier.

"I want one smaller," Corrum commanded. "Small enough for you."

"I'm not very skilled with pulse firing weapons," Shane shook his head slightly. "And if anyone found out I was making a Skrail I'd be executed."

"I want you to make me a very fine, modern Skrail," Corrum seemed to smile as he rested his thumb into the belt of his kilt. "That you could wield, Shane. It is very important to me, I trust you with the task."

"You know it would not be valid as a royal scepter," Shane raised his brows as he looked to him. "I think I could make it very fine General, but, it would be incredibly illegal too. I don't think it's worth enough to me to risk your honorary house for something no Scarren will ever accept as a true Skrail."

"Not yet," Corrum growled low in his smile as he lowered his head. "Not until after ... I am going to help a house come into the honor codes of the Skrail. You remember warlords Setig and Pagar?"

"Yes," Shane smiled slightly. "Nesient crystal vases, two dozen each."

Corrum laughed as he wrinkled his rat like muzzle at him. "I've had a very interesting discussion with them on a campaign."

"You know I'm not interested in war, General." Shane stated firmly as he crossed his arms. "The less I know about anything the better."

"The sooner I have this Skrail the better," Corrum narrowed his eyes on him keenly. "And indeed, your secretsy on its making interests me greatly."

"I won't take it," Shane spoke plainly as he raised his head to the Scarren. "It would be easier to kill me than trust I would keep the origins on a new Skrail secret forever. That means my name and yours. No thanks. I would recommend you just take Setig and Pagar's houses for yourself or have them marry into your royalty. I hear your daughter Itira is fierce and desirable."

"You are one man I know for keeping the secrets of royalty," Corrum grunted. "It's what keeps you - interesting, to us. And, whatever past it is you run from, I can assure you saftey from it."

"I think I remember this conversation," Shane smiled slightly as he turned his attention back to the Skrail on the wall. "You don't even know if I have a past to run from General. I could be someone who has nothing to loose, or secrets to keep. I am, however, very interested in staying out of the politics on Rashari."

"For once Shane," Corrum sighed. "This is a matter of honor and loyalty to salvage the esteem of both houses ... friends of mine, Shane Norof. Comrads from many battles, we came from the same training camps, we serviced on the same war carrier of my father. Lord Crichton has been captured by Scorpius. That leaves Lady Crichton, Setig and Pagar to reside the estates, virtually open targets to challengers for the mastery. I must have the Skrail. Setig and Pagar and I will fight in the great hall of rule for Darkrai."

"Darkrai," Shane raised a sharp eyebrow. "I'm not familiar..."

"Royal guards," Corrum growled his laugh as he narrowed his eyes again with amusement. "If we can withstand our Skrails for two arns I will have to make them royal guards and then the new Skrail will be recognized as the royal scepter of Lord Crichton because they will refuse to challenge me with my family scepter. It's a favor Shane, for my comrads. For honor."

Shane chuckled as he shook his head. "Fine, Sir. I need materials, diagrams and an assistant."

Corrum growled deep in his throat, smiling viciously as he snatched Shane's shoulders and shook him like a rag in a terriers mouth. "You shall have anything you desire!"

***********

 Chiana dreams she is crying. She can hear the unmistakable sound of Scorpius' Aurora chair spinning but she can't remember when she was in the chair or who had put her in it. She crouches, her hands against a wall as she tries to recognize where she is. It seems like Moya but everything is drowned in confusion. It could be the chair, she feels like it's piercing through her mind ... maybe - maybe it's starburst?

"Dora!" She shouts, her voice echoing. She can barely breath as her heart races. "My daughter! Please!"

She can hear someone coming and twists around, running as fast as she can down the corridors, the streets? She stopped short in a sprawl at a crossway, glancing from one end of the hall to the other. Moya... She can hear her daughter crying, from somewhere she can see or sense Scorpius, the hairs rise on the back of her neck. He's looking for her ... He's going to find my daughter!

"Nho!" Chiana barely breathed out as she ran for her daughters cries.

She leaped into what seemed like Moya's central command helm. The portal screen was on, showing the stars of space and Scorpius command carrier.

"Please."

She gasped, whirling around to Crichton's voice. He looked to her pleadingly as he came to his knees, his face flushed red as he held his hands to the sides of his head. "Please stop this!"

Chiana came to him, dropping to her knees. Her lips trembled, her eyes welled with tears as she looked into his face mournfully, touching his lips with her long fingers. "I'm sorry. John, please come back. Please, I'm sorry. Dora - she's - she's crying and I can't - I can't find her ..."

"Why did you give this back to me?" Crichton sobbed as he held out her wedding ring. "Why?"

Chiana groaned as she felt something grip her entire body, tensing as she was whirled around. She gasped as Scorpius stood in front of her. He snarled as he slit her stomach open with a blade. She buckled over, trying to scream as his hand reached into the wound to take her unborn child.

"Naaaoooo!" Chiana bellowed as she sat up in her bed, sweat pouring from her as Dora wailed like a banshee in her crib. D'argo burst into the room. His qualta in his hands as he tried to find some enemy. Chiana sobbed, crying almost as loud as Dora as she wrapped her arms around D'argo.

*******************

 "It's important!" Pagar growled as the door swung open. Shane turned, raising his brows as Pagar burst in and came to his knees in front of General Corrum. Corrum growled as he motioned him to stand. Pagar refused, lowering his head with a dark snarl as he dug his fists into his lap.

"High General," he narrowed his eyes as he waited for some expectant blow as Corrum rested his hand on the hilt of the gladiator sword at his side. "The specialized prowler we had on guard at the Nisra Base was taken last night by PeaceKeeper's. Nine guards were captured."

"That's my base," Corrum snarled as his eyes flared. He clenched tightly to his swords hilt. Pagar handed him a chip without meeting his eyes.

Corrum placed the chip into a slot in his control helm, gazing up as the invasion immediately began on his screen inside a hanger. He watched as a recon group of PeaceKeeper's swept in, quick and painless, very efficient. No alarms, no detection. Corrum curled his lip as he shut it off.

"Due to circumstances at Lord Crichton's grove I believe this attack was initiated by Scarren sympathizers to PeaceKeeper ." Pagar stated to the floor, as still as stone as he handed the General a pair of intel chips. "Two Scarren's attacked Setig and General D'argo over the - estate in challenge but they were killed. On them were encoded PeaceKeeper orders regarding this base."

Corrum curled both sides of his muzzles lips into a vicious snarl, baring his two long curving fangs at Pagar as he stepped to him again, motioning Shane to stay when he moved to leave. "Is Setig alive?"

"Yes," Pagar stated flatly. "He is returning to the grove very shortly in excellent condition."

"Very fortunate," Corrum narrowed his eyes with suspicion as he planted his foot on Pagar's knee. "Have you informed Lady Crichton of the prowler?"

"Being your base sir I felt it best to inform you first."

"My investments are looking very bleak, Pagar." He growled low in his throat. "Perhaps I have failed my own interests..."

"The one called Jasmine has the wormhole technology, as well as the hidden Nebari base." Pagar let a small smile cross his face, unable to help it. "They still maintain our alliance to them is in their use of it, for us."

"Very clever," Corrum nodded firmly as he removed his foot. "But now we shall need a craft, and someone to build the technology to place it in the craft. That will take time, I may be impatient."

"Give us until Darkrai," Pagar suggested. "This Jothee, son of General D'argo possesses the use of the Zenetan Flax on his alien ship. Lady Crichton still possesses the leverage of the Flax until everything can be put into order and made ready."

"Very well," Corrum sighed, laxing his shoulders with the relief he felt as he softened his eyes on Pagar. "Get up, go tell her. The sooner we have a wormhole craft again the better. Send my apologies. I have been disgraced of the guardianship Kha'nai Mokan entrusted me to, I shall amend myself to the esteemed house of Lord Crichton."

Pagar bowed his head deeply to him and left as swiftly as he had come. Corrum sighed heavily again as he turned to Shane and rested his eyes on him with a profound worry. "How soon can I have the Skrail? Nothing half done, I want a true Skrail that could kick my eema. Fierce and desirable, like my daughter!"

"Sir," Shane bowed his head in respect to him with a small smile. "As long as it takes to make a wormhole ship in ready I would assume."

Corrum laughed as he lightly slapped Shane on his shoulder, shaking it more gently this time. "Good man. Smart. I like you Shane."

"That's always good to know, General." Shane spoke gently as his own eyes saddened.

***************

 Mokan, Setig and Geyo returned to the grove. Setig stepped into the house first, cradling his arm wrapped in a heavy cloth as he sat to the kitchen table.

Mokan entered next. She tilted her head slightly, flaring her nostrils as she stepped into the den area, her gaze settling on Pagar, D'argo and Chiana who looked very unraveled. "What's going on?"

"The wormhole prowler is stolen," Chiana sighed as she brought her head into her hands. "We have to make one with the diagrams Jasmine recorded for us or we loose the Scarren support."

"Namely," Pagar sighed. "We still have some fortune, we can create this wormhole in the same time until we hold the Darkrai. It is our only strength with the Scarren allies unless we could prove Jothee's Flax and alien ship are powers of the Resistance they would do well to invest for the sake of Lord Crichton's house."

"Frell," Chiana sighed with a light swallow as she stared at the floor. "Maybe I can get the Rashari Councilates to accept Resistance Planetary Amnesty with the promise we can get the generator going as our trades good. With one alliance under us we won't have to worry about the other one so much, less sweat on General Corrum's mivonks and allot less to loose on our part."

"General Corrum expresses his regret," Pagar spoke haggardly. "He mentioned that it was Mokan who entrusted him with protecting the wormhole prowler and will redeem himself to the Lord Crichton house."

"Hezmana," Mokan muttered wide eyed as she sat down. "Who snurched it?"

"A very elite group of PeaceKeepers," D'argo narrowed his eyes. "With Scarren sympathizers on their side."

"Is anyone listening?" Chiana asked with irritation as she raised her head.

"Of course my lady," Pagar lowered his head slightly. "I would be honored to escort you to the Rashari Native Councilate great hall."

"Fine," she nodded sharply as she stood. "Let's get going."

"Chiana," D'argo spoke softly as he widened his eyes on her. "You really should rest."

"I'll be fine," she smiled gently as she rested her hand on D'argoes shoulder and cut Pagar a wry glance. "I'm surrounded by such big strong guys, how could this go wrong?"

"Don't say that," Mokan closed her eyes as she shook her head. "Everything always goes wrong when you say how it couldn't. I think it's a Chi thing. It just seems to follow you around."

"Oh!" Chiana barked her laugh as she tocked her head at Mokan. "Well you just voted yourself company."

"I can't go!" Mokan gaped at her wide eyed. "I - I have things ... I think my stealth fighter's maintenance is calling me."

"Yeah," Chiana smiled as she curved her head into her as she stood. "So you think there'll be anything left when you get back from that?"

"That's a good point," Mokan smiled gently as she toggled her head. "Lead the way your highnee."

**********

 OOC: I did some profiling on the Scarren's and Rashari planet, this all might contain spoilers of what I got in mind in coming events but it's the big ole set up before we shake da house, might check this out sometime:

Scarren's on Rashari
pub10.ezboard.com/frpgfarscapefrm35.showMessage?topicID=32.topic

Rashari Planet
pub10.ezboard.com/frpgfarscapefrm35.showMessage?topicID=33.topic

**************

 "I said I would be on standby," Jothee barked angrily at the huge screen in front of his broad semicircular helm where Melak's face came over half of it. "I never said I'd use my ship for a Resistance Carrier!"

"My apologies," Melak smiled, letting his eyes narrow slightly. "My mistake."

The screen blipped off, returning to the gray blue of his bowed out wall.

"Feket," Jothee snapped as he threw out his arm and turned away from the helm, his eyes settling on Jasmine who was running through different things near the edge of the long board. "What a crew. This thing is bigger than Moya and all I have for help is you - finally!"

"I miss Pilot," Jasmine commented as he came to her.

"So what did I get myself into?" Jothee asked as he leaned against the helm and crossed his arms. "What is this ship? What kind of aliens were running this thing? Where did they find you to service them?"

"I was incubated from genetic samples," Jasmine spoke quietly as she continued to work. "Dirsan travels making collections of genetic samples from the different planets they stop to examine or gather from the science probes."

"So this is an exploration ship?" Jothee asked. "Scientists studying planets, things like that?"

"No, this is a colony that enhances itself from the samples," Jasmine sighed lightly as she opened a panel and began to rewire. "Dirsan lives in nomadic colonies, we had a default with one of the interdimensional sample spheres Dirsan and others use for science and sample collection. We were thrown into this sector, this dimension. Damages are very extensive but at least we weren't genetically divided ... Dirsan lives like Pilot and Moya, we servicers live like the Drd's."

"Ugh," Jothee winced his eyes at her in disgust. "So we'd need one of these Dirsan's or what, Dirsan, to pilot this ship ... is this ship biomechanoid?"

"No, I'm biomechanoid," Jasmine continued as she narrowed her eyes on what she was doing as if his disgust hurt.

"You mean you're cyborg," Jothee wondered at her. "I've heard of cyborgs from the slaver battling pits."

Jasmine paused, tilting her eyes up to the ceiling as she rubbed her ear. "I was collectively created like the biomechanoids for Dirsan who was connected to this ship like Pilot and Moya. I'm just a smaller version of genetic and synthetic enhancement like Dirsan was to the ship. Dirsan is not communicating. Moya is a living ship, this ship is gathered materials, it does not live. It was Dirsan that made it live."

"Can you find out if Dirsan's dead?"

"Yes," Jasmine blinked slowly as she returned to what she was doing. "Dirsan is dead. There are no more servers either. I can make drones, servers meant to assist us for Dirsan. Like Drd's. But this ship is only a hull anymore."

"Are you going to revolt or something if I command this ship? I found it. It wouldn't be running this well if the Zenetan's didn't help me patch up this scrap work."

"Ghaa frell!" Jasmine cursed as she curled her lip at him and ran her hand through her short dark red hair. "We're dead. You can have it. What's to run?"

"I'll share command with you," Jothee smiled as he rested his hand on her shoulder. "Your drones aren't going to do something weird like make a new Dirsan are they?"

"No," she softened her eyes solemnly as she closed the panel back. "They're just like Drd's. Dirsan can never be replaced. We're a dead colony. What you said, scrap."

"After what I saw your regeneration stuff do to that Scarren's arm," Jothee snorted. "I'm a little afraid of what these drones are going to look like."

"Their soul purpose in life is servicing their specific tasks," Jasmine spoke quietly as she turned to another part of the helm and touched several small glyphs on a hexagon shaped panel. Within moments a hologram of a lower deck shot across the section of helm in front of her. The level was like a honeycomb with rows of capsules along the floor. Jothee recognized it as the place Amber had found her. Jasmine continued to play her fingers over the small glyphs until the hologram viewed in on a section of the honeycomb and several of its hexagon shapes began to slide out.

Jasmine winced her eyes as the first few that opened spilled out a black oil to the floor. She pushed them back in and opened others. After a few moments several drones began to sluggishly come out. Jothee curled his lip in disgust as he saw the legs slip from the combs and then the bodies that followed. The creatures scrambled to the floor and then slowly began to stand, raising their heads as they drew their shoulders back.

They stood at about five feet in height, lean, insectal creatures of a black exoskeletal with heads like an ant. Their eyes began to come to life in a dull red. Along their torsos insectal legs stretched while they raised armoured arms in unison, flexing their fingered hands as the turned to stand facing each other. They looked almost hybrid between ant-like and humanoid. There were about five in all.

"That - is scary," Jothee stated as he rested his hands on the helm and gaped at them. "Are you sure those things are even going to listen to us?"

Jasmine turned to him and clipped a small spider like device to his temple. She smiled slightly as he gasped and grabbed at it, wondering on him solemnly with her midnight blue eyes. "They will now, Pilot Joth."

"Captain," he smiled as he lowered his hand. "Captain of Hezmana."

"I thought Setig calls his arm the hezmana?"

"Yeah, well," Jothee smiled, letting his breath out through his nostrils as he softened his gaze on her. "I think the name fits."

***********

 Chiana held Dora in her arms, adjusting her little blanket she kicked off of herself. She entered the kitchen with Mokan and D'argo. She stopped beside Setig, gazing down at him quietly as he stared at his bundled arm.

"I don't think I've ever seen a Scarren blush before," she spoke quietly as she swallowed.

"It's my arm," Setig muttered as he lowered his head. Tears were coming out of the grown, hardened warriors eyes. "I am ashamed. I have been butchered by that bastard. I wish he had killed me."

Chiana shook her head as she reached out and rested her small hand on his big shoulder. "Let me see, please Setig."

Setig unfolded the bundle to reveal his hezmana arm. Tears continuing freely down his rat like face as he curled his lip in a reluctant, bare snarl. "I am sorry Chiana. I cannot protect you this way!"

Chiana took in her breath, kissing the top of her daughters soft golden hair as Dora called out noisily, jabbering already in baby talk. She looked sadly to Setig as she tried to squeeze his leather tough shoulder, tried to manage a smile as she tilted her head.

"Hey," she barely whispered as tears threaghtened her own eyes. "Maybe we can make you a glove for it Setig."

"Yes my lady," Setig muttered as he closed his eyes. "You are leaving for the Native Conciliate hall now..."

"No," Chiana glanced at the others as she sat at the table with Setig and rested her head on his shoulder. "I think we'll just wait until tomorrow, after your glove is made."

Setig let out a heavy, growl like sigh as he flexed the trembling fingers of his new arm. "Thank you ... my lady."

****************

 Chiana gazed up at the night sky from the balcony of her bedroom. The cool winds of the grove brushed along her slim form as she hummed to herself, enjoying the deep rich smells of the land, the sounds of the night creatures. She loved this grove, its trails, the mountains along its southern side, the beach along its west. The night sky was teaming with stars, Resharies deep blue moon full and brilliant almost right in the middle of it. She couldn't imagine anything more beautiful except maybe gazing out at such stars during starburst, the rumble of Moya at her feet as she jostled through the fine fabric of dimension.

She turned to her bedroom, gazing down on her sleeping daughter in her crib at the foot of her bed. She touched her sleeping face with her gray fingers, smiling gently at how much she looked like John. She undressed and crawled into her sheets, squeezing her pillow tight as she curled up alone. She didn't realize just how tired she was, feeling like the room was somehow turning, herself rising into space. She drifted in a silent depth, comforted by the sounds outside, the images of the stars in her mind.

She felt a sensation of descending then, her hand touched his chest. She opened her eyes slowly, breathing out a long sigh as she gazed on Crichton's face. He smiled, his hand touching her cheek. She tilted her head slightly as she ran her hands down his chest, enjoying the feel of his tender warmth, the smoothness of his skin and tone. She closed her eyes as he breathed into her hair, bringing in her breath with the longing she felt as his hands came up her thighs and along her sides. She gasped softly as his lips teased her breast. She placed her hand to the side of his head, breathing her sigh of pleasure into his ear as she ran her finger tips through his hair. Her body trembled, aching as he embraced her. A soft moan escaped him into her breast as he brought himself into her. She moaned deeply, her finger tips trailing down the warm flesh of his sides, drinking in his smell, his soft sighs of pleasure, the warmth of her husband.

She sucked in her breath in a shuddering sigh as he began to thrust himself into her, his arms wrapped around her as he moaned into her neck, kissing tenderly, passionately. She cried out in his strength, his comfort, ecstasy washing sweetly through her as his hands came down her back. She pressed her lips into his hair, gasping out her scream as he groaned, thrusting into her sharply, his hardness spasming inside her.

She grasped the sides of his head, savoring the deep richness of his sweat and musk, the heat that emanated from him, the warmth and strength of his hold as her body trembled, washes of her pleasure waving through her again and again. " John," she whispered in her deep ache to keep holding him, caressing him. She gasped desperately when he pushed into her again, grasping her hips tightly as a deep moan escaped him. Spindrels of ecstasy expanded through her, exploding like washes of a divine wave through her body. " Oh John!" She barely gasped into his neck as she clenched his shoulders. Her back arched, her head coming back as she cried out, near scream as her orgasm exploded through her, tendrils racing through it at the precious sound of her husbands moans, his desperate caresses and thrusts to have her.

Chiana woke up moaning, barely opening her eyes as she sat up in her bed, her arms drawing out as her head came back. "John ..."

She turned slowly, thick and droggy with sleep as she touched the empty space beside her. Her lips parted, her eyes dancing with the soulful tilt of her head as she ran her hand along the bed where Crichton would have lain.