albinomilksnake | OPEN RP PART II: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

[It does not take longer than a few solar days for Scorpius to become certain Aeryn's illness is no naturally induced heat delirium. The suit should have regulated her temperature and brought her to full recovery in that time, but instead her condition remains unchanged, even now.

Despite his assurances that John Crichton does not figure into his plans, he did not mask his disappointment particularly well in discovering the human long missing from the Leviathan when they located her. But the ship serves its other purpose well in the subsequent half-cycle, and with the coveted Crichton out from under them, he hears very little of Grayza beyond reports from his man on her command carrier. While the political situation remains unchanged, he is content to keep out of sight.

Today he finds Aeryn on the bridge, working. This insistence on exerting herself is not unusual, for her or for any space-bred Peacekeeper. But it does not bode well for her health.

He approaches from behind in near silence, setting a hand on her shoulder.]

Rest. I will finish here.

Edited 2014-06-18 17:58 (UTC)

No. [Low and too breathless to sound half as stubborn a refusal as it really is, though Aeryn leans into the hand at her shoulder rather than away from it. Fingers braced against the console as if it'll adhere her to it and prove how capable she is at the moment.] No, I can do this.

After all this time, do not for one microt think I doubt your ability. [Scorpius leans on her with his presence if not with his weight, his mouth dropped as near as he can bear to her ear, given her powerfully glowing heat signature.] You are overheating. I only ask that you indulge my concern for your health.

[It's too effective, how his gentle statements dig in under her coolant-sealed skin. She knows. Even before he'd brought it to the forefront of their conversation, Aeryn could feel heat radiating from her own skin, trapped between the cold of her suit and the heat of her body.

But she spends more time in that room than out of it these days, and there's nothing even remotely appealing about the thought of going back.] A few hundred more microts.

[He exhales stiffly through his nose, turning his head aside and withdrawing from her. But his hand lingers, and he gives her shoulder a squeeze before stepping away.] There was a time [he begins, tucking his arms behind his back, wrist in hand] when I was meant to believe Sebaceans were among the weakest of races.

What do you imagine my teachers would have to say about you, Aeryn Sun?

That I didn't die fast enough. [Managing a smile isn't easy, but Aeryn does her best, regardless of whether or not he can see it from where he's standing just behind her shoulder. Her grip eases on the console; she goes back to slowly plucking at the wires.]

[His teeth flash under a grin.]

You're not wrong.

[And despite his disapproval, Scorpius does not interfere as she returns to work. He has made it his policy to permit Aeryn as much or as little autonomy as she wishes. Thus far, it's earned him some each of her trust and her cooperation.]

I'm usually not. [Despite the delicacy of her work, Aeryn's focus is more on the dark expanse of stars in front of her more than it is the wires in her gloved fingers. She holds her breath for too long. Thinks she sees movement where there is none.

It's longer than the amount of time she'd asked for when dizziness prickles at the base of her skull, making her feel simultaneously unbalanced and insubstantial. No matter what she might want, she's out of time.

Aeryn shuts her eyes, sets her tools down.]

Edited 2014-06-19 07:13 (UTC)

[She comes up here to stare at the stars often, with even the frailest of excuses. It is no secret why she does it. He knows because he looks for all the same signs she does, and also because he has watched the longing consume her, little by little, for a long time.

The heat delirium is a more pressing concern. When she finally slumps over the console, Scorpius returns to her side in an instant and guides her weight back into his chest, catching her up in his arms. She will have to forgive him the indignity of being carried, because she cannot possibly make it back to the chamber under her own power.]

You will recall serving as your nurse was never part of our agreement.

Frell you. [There's humor in it, even if there's none in her at the moment. It's equal parts an expression of her unhappiness with the current situation and just how far they've come as nearly-lone companions in this uninhibited section of space.

She barely has the opportunity to talk with Pilot the way she'd used to. ]

Edited 2014-06-19 21:53 (UTC)

[The retort earns her a good-natured flash of teeth. But until they reach her room, he leaves the conversation at that. No need to exert her any further.

Scorpius raises the sleeping platform once they arrive and lays her out on it. With his hands then free, he makes haste to exchange the spent rod fueling her suit with a fresh one.

Between the two of them, their supply is reaching its limits.

He activates his comm.]

Pilot. Seal the chamber and reduce the temperature to optimum minus ten.

[He's never told her. Never hinted at it or suggested that soon either one or both of them might be staring down the inevitable. That said, he doesn't need to: even a soldier knows what it means to run on exhaustible resources. As he works to replace the rod, Aeryn's lidded eyes slide open, fixing themselves on the scored lines of his features.]

He's not coming back, you know.

[His work in securing the replacement slows, and he utters a sigh that speaks of more patience than he can truly take credit for.]

No, not likely. But I believe that if he is alive, he will return to this ship. [The blue rod snaps into place.] And for that we wait.

[Neither of them can stand to delay an excursion for supplies much longer. A crew of two eats very little, but to distill the solanterum within the Leviathan into a potent enough substitute fuel for his coolant system is beyond his skills.]

We can't wait much longer, Scorpius-- [Which isn't precisely what she means to say, and there's a few microts pause as she swallows thickly, ignoring the sweat staining her exposed skin.

Corrects herself:] I can't wait much longer.

[Scorpius does her the courtesy of not acknowledging the slip as he carefully locks away the remaining rods in their case and returns them to storage.

He sucks in a lungful of cool air through his teeth before turning back to her.]

If we leave this sector, we risk discovery, imprisonment, and worse. We risk missing the others entirely should they attempt to return. However [A short, weighted pause.] In doing so, we may yet survive.

And you could last out here twice as long if you weren't halving your supply. [The illness is worse these days. Worse than what it had been, and she burns through rods faster than he does, which means he technically has less than half his own inventory for personal use.

Bottom line: it isn't worth it.

Aeryn reaches up with the strength she's earned in that chilled section of Moya, pulling the rod free and extending it towards him. Half a cycle of waiting like this, and it's been long enough. More time than she had any right to from the start when she'd been infected.] Take it.

[On the whole, the illness has worked to his advantage. It granted him access to Moya, Aeryn's trust, and made him an indispensable part of her survival. But its usefulness has long since run its course; every day he shares his coolant solution is a threat to his own health.

Nevertheless, he takes the rod from her, catches her wrist to prevent her from resisting, and immediately circles back to re-engage it into her suit.]

I intend to hold up my end of our arrangement.

Then you'll die with me. [She hasn't got the strength to fight his grip, or to chase after the rod again. Not yet, at least, and as Aeryn's fingers go limp, she shuts her eyes again, painting out the vivid imagery that is their inevitable downfall: Peacekeepers, ruthless traders with knowledgeable ties...Scarrans.

Ullom.]

Survival has never been a particular issue for me. [And Scorpius can survive without the rods, without the suit. He spent his childhood in a perpetual state of heat delirium and perhaps because of his mixed parentage, he never did experience the Living Death in the way full-blooded Sebaceans do. Only pain.

He brushes the back of his gloved fingers against Aeryn's sweat-slick cheek.]

I believe we are overdue for a change in heading.

Don't. [Her eyes are still closed, but there's urgency in her tone that stresses exactly how certain she is that venturing into occupied territory will effectively kill the only comfort she has left.

And they'll miss him. He's not coming back, he won't get their transmissions but the microt they leave is the one all the pieces finally fall into place and all of this will be for nothing.]

[Even desperately ill, she is no less stubborn than she ever was at peak physical condition. Perhaps even moreso, he can't be certain. Before encountering her prowler a half-cycle ago, Scorpius had very limited contact with Aeryn Sun.

He places his hands on the edge of the platform, inclining himself over her.]

The time we buy in obtaining supplies--perhaps even in acquiring a cure for your condition--is far more valuable than the few dozen solar days we have left here.

[He earns a look for it: the effort it takes to open her eyes and focus directly on something absolutely worth it if only because in the moment, it matters. It matters to her that he understand how alone he'll be in his efforts if he goes because she hasn't got the strength to follow. To assist.]

If you're certain, I can't stop you.

Fortunately for you, I do not require your blessing to save your life. [Scorpius pushes himself back, straightens up through his shoulders, and turns toward the door. He hesitates, then pauses with his hand raised to the door controls.] I believe you know who is responsible for your illness. I intend to find out, with or without your cooperation.

[It's a bitter sort of smile that surfaces as a byproduct of his intentions, even if he's not paying attention enough to see it.]

Charting a course into occupied space is one thing, but if you try to find who is responsible for this, Scorpius, I can guarantee there won't be any coming back from it.

[The door opens, and Scorpius brings his chin toward his shoulder.] You underestimate my resilience.

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