TITLE: "OUT OF THE MOUTH OF BABES"

AUTHOR: Alison M. DOBELL

FANDOM: "Farscape"

PAIRING: No specific pairing

RATING: PG-13

STATUS: New.

ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.

FEEDBACK: Welcomed

EMAIL: AlisonMDobell@aol.com

SERIES/SEQUEL: SEQUEL to "NOT QUITE HOME"

WEBSITE: http://www.carlajane.50megs.com/Ali00.html

SUMMARY: "With Crichton missing, Chiana goes in search of him while Aeryn curses."

The usual disclaimers apply. No infringement of copyright is intended.


"OUT OF THE MOUTH OF BABES"
A "Farscape" story
Written by Alison M. DOBELL
* * * * *

Chiana was fascinated. It took effort not to stop at every stall, not to try to at least snurch something but she was not here for herself this time. She needed to find Crichton. Whatever D'Argo said she had a gnawing feeling in her gut and knew she would never forgive herself if anything happened to him. Let the others argue all they wanted, Moya would no longer be home to her without Crichton on board. He had believed in her when no one else had. She trusted him. Knew he cared deeply about each and every one of them. To even think of abandoning him was anathema to her. Little thief or not she knew where her loyalties lay.

She did not realise at first that she was being followed. Curious eyes watched her warily. Chiana gradually realised she was the subject of covert scrutiny and paused to look at some things on a stall, her dipped head turning slightly so the angle of her eyes could scan surreptitiously behind her. It was a girl. Young, wiry, tanned skin and with the blackest shock of hair she had ever seen. So black it had a blue sheen to it and as silky and shiny as ribbons of glass. The child had luminous pale eyes, like small bright moons caught in pearlescent clouds so that they glowed rather than shone. For a moment Chiana was stunned. Almost gave herself away. The child was what? Five, six cycles? A child that young had to have parents nearby. Chiana did not want to meet her parents however much she was curious about the child. Maybe this had been a mistake. She should go back to the transport, get D'Argo, then find Crichton. When she looked again the child was gone.

* * * * *

He woke feeling groggy, his whole world swaying around him. What the hezmana had happened to him? He opened his eyes and groaned softly. A hand touched his brow. Small childlike fingers placed cool leaves on his forehead. Leaves? He tried to focus and recognised the boy. "Bish? What happened?"

Bish looked a little awkward. Appeared to be doing something to his chest but Crichton could not feel anything. From the neck down he was completely numb. "You were shot, John."

His eyes widened. He remembered anticipating danger and trying to shield the boy. "Are you alright?"

A look of surprise surfaced in the liquid pools of his eyes. "I am uninjured."

Crichton closed his eyes a microt in relief. When he opened them again he saw the boy remove a bloody cloth and dab away at his chest. "How bad was I hit?"

"You will live."

"Thank you, Bish."

The boy shook his head, irritation flaring in his milky eyes. "Do not thank me. I tend you in shame. It was my people who shot you!"

Confusion. *His* people? Bish saw the question in the human's eyes. A gentle hurt that made him feel even worse. Crichton wished the world would stop moving beneath him. Bish noticed and explained. "You are in a rishwa."

"A what?"

"A platform in the trees."

"You're kidding me, Bish? You mean we're in a TREE HOUSE?"

Bish did not know the term but assumed the human was not used to the arboreal life of his ancestors. "The Forest of Tannar is beautiful, John Crichton, but it is also deadly."

"What do you mean your people shot me?"

The boy wished he had not asked but honour demanded an answer and he had a lifedebt to repay. He would answer any question the human asked. His hands did not pause in tending him as he explained. "When we came into the Forest the others were not expecting to see a stranger. This is a sacred place to us. Forbidden to outsiders."

Crichton became curious, his tone soft, inquiring. "They why did you bring me here?"

Bish sighed softly, some emotion stirring that Crichton could not quite pinpoint. He sounded almost wistful. "You celebrate Eventray. Her clothing greets your eyes with visions of joy. Her breath sustains you and makes your heart glad. All this I saw in you and more. I could not believe such things of a Peace Keeper." He paused. Ashamed. "My curiosity brought you here."

"I'm not a Peace Keeper, Bish."

He indicated Crichton's leathers. "Your clothing..."

"Isn't mine." Said Crichton steadily. "And before you ask, I'm not Sebacean either."

The boy raised his head fully and looked Crichton in the eye. His hands paused. Lying flat on his back unable to lift his head, Crichton could not see his chest. Had no idea how bad the wound was. He was grateful for the lack of pain but wished he knew how long he would be laid up. The others must be frantic by now. Aeryn he knew would be livid. For some reason that made him wish to stay longer. It was a petty perverse thought but he could not help himself. Sometimes the radiant Aeryn Sun was just a pain in the eema. Beauty could not excuse bad manners. Nor was it the sole reason why he missed her.

Bish resumed dressing the wound then left for a few microts to wash his hands. When he returned he knelt beside the pallet on which the human lay. He turned the leaves over and Crichton was surprised to find the other side cooler. Weird. <Okay, Dorothy, where did you leave your shoes?>

"What are you if not a Peace Keeper? From where do you come?"

"I don't know how much of this will make sense to you Bish, but I come from a planet far far away. A planet called Earth in a solar system unknown to you."

"Ert?"

"Earth."

"Earth? As is soil?"

Crichton smiled. "Yeah, as in soil."

The boy thought for a moment. "What is the solar system of which you speak?"

"It is not in the Uncharted Territories, Bish."

His eyes widened. "You come from beyond?"

He nodded.

The boy tried to absorb this. "Why are you here?"

Crichton smiled slowly. "It was an accident. You could say I got lost."

"What is the naming of your clan?"

"My people are human, that is the name of our race, our species. I am the first human to leave my planet and go to the stars."

For several microts neither of them spoke. Crichton was starting to feel tired but fought against it. He wanted information, answers, but nothing was forthcoming and he was not sure how long he could stay conscious. Not even sure how long he had been here. Arns? Solar Days? The dappled light through the treetop canopy told him little. He did not even know how long each Solar Day lasted on Eventray.

"You should sleep, John. By the time you reawaken the cut of my knife will have run its' course."

He wanted to ask what the boy meant but his mouth was growing numb and he could no longer feel his neck. He licked his bottom lip with his tongue. No sensation in his bottom lip and now his tongue was starting to go numb. Alarm flickered in his eyes. The boy murmured something in a strange tongue and a couple of warriors stepped up to the pallet. Just before he lost consciousness Bish leaned close to whisper in his ear. "Take comfort, my friend. Once I have removed the poison the healing will begin. Rest. Sleep. I will protect you."

Then darkness claimed him in a dreamless sleep, oblivious of the flash of steel or the hands that held him. Bish looked up at one of the warriors. "You know Ishinn you should really be doing this."

The warrior inclined his head. "I fear my hand would slip and complete my dishonour."

Bish grunted but did not hold him to the task. He wanted the human to live. Whether Ishinn was being truthful about being too nervous to hold the knife steady or not he was unwilling to chance it. The other warrior, Sangut, was older. More grizzled in his appearance but with calm eyes and a deep voice. He wanted to know Bish's intentions and how it would affect the clan.

"This stranger is not a toy, Bishyin. Where there is one there will be others."

"He is not a threat to us, Sangut. I see great good in him. His spirit came from the sky to touch the land. The journey may have been long but it brought him here. And others will not follow of his kind."

"How can you be so sure?" Asked Ishinn. "He is a Peace Keeper. Is that not enough?"

"No, Ishinn. He is not a Peace Keeper, not even a Sebacean. He comes from a planet beyond the Uncharted Territories in a distant solar system. It is called Earth."

"Ert? I have never heard of it."

Bish smiled and looked down at Crichton for a microt. "He says he is human and I believe him."

"Just like that," Said Sangut slowly. "You believe this stranger. You bring him to our most hallowed place then seek to save his life. Give us one good reason, Bishyin, why we should let you heal him?"

He raised his face and looked Sangut in the eye. His look steady and calm, his voice quiet but fiercely protective. "He is injured because of me. In my haste to show him the wonders of our world I did not approach the council first. Did not protect him when Ishinn struck as was his duty. The human thought we were under attack, stepped in front of me to protect me from death." He paused a microt. "This *man*, this stranger, saved my life and I will willingly give my life for his."

Sangut frowned. Ishinn nodded solemnly. "He speaks the truth Sangut. My aim was not true. If the human had not stepped forward I would have killed one of our own."

A look of shock swept over Sangut's face. "You know what that means? Your life is forfeit to the clan.."

Bish raised a hand. "No! It was an accident. Ishinn would never cause harm to me and we all know it. I believe what happened was a sign. For some reason this human has been brought among us and we will honour and protect him." He turned his head to look into Ishinn's eyes. "But know this Ishinn. Any harm that befalls him will befall you. Do you count my words fair, old friend?"

Ishinn paled a little but dipped his head in agreement. "It is fair recompense. I accept your grace."

Sangut nodded. "Very well. We will honour this compact."

Bish picked up a thin, sharp, curved knife with a bone handle. Ishinn spoke before he made the first cut. "And if the human dies?"

"Then we honour him as our own. We eat of his flesh, drink of his blood and bury his bones."

"He has no mask." Grumbled Sangut.

"If he dies I will make for him a mask."

The three exchanged a last look then bowed their heads in agreement. Taking a breath, Bish brought the arc of his knife down and cut deep.

* * * * *

Aeryn Sun was so furious she could not stop pacing. Rygel eyed her warily. Jool stayed out of the way and actually envied D'Argo for being down on the planet surface with Chiana. The Sebacean was a time bomb waiting to go off. Did the woman never relax? Aeryn spun and pinned Jool with a fierce look. "What are you staring at?"

"N...n...nothing."

Normally Rygel would have enjoyed seeing the Interon squirm but there were times when he just lost patience with Aeryn. "It is not Jool's fault. If you want to blame someone blame Crichton." Aeryn glowered at him but he continued smoothly, watching her reaction. "Of course, none of this would have happened if you had gone down to the surface with them instead of sulking."

"How dare you! I was *not* sulking you trat ridden Hynerian slug so shut your wakket hole or I will shut it for you, caw matan?"

Rygel grinned at her, a sight devoid of humour and a mocking gash in his face that told her quite clearly what he thought of the threat. "I'm not afraid of you, Peace Keeper bitch. So keep your threats for the enemy."

She darted forward but Rygel's thronesled was quicker. She glared impotently up at him where he hovered near the ceiling. "I am *not* a Peace Keeper and you are no longer a Hynerian Dominar. You are a worthless slime infested relkit. So unless you want to spend the rest of your miserable life in cryostatis keep your opinions to yourself!"

"Gladly! As soon as you learn to embrace another emotion besides anger. I am sick of your bad temper and throwing your weight around. You are not the Captain of this leviathan and you are not in charge of anything except your own incompetence. Caw matan?"

Before Aeryn could aim her pulse rifle and give him the only answer she thought he deserved, Rygel made his exit. She hissed angrily through her teeth. Noticed Jool cowered behind a console and stormed out of command. Jool slumped on the floor in a quaking heap. She hoped they found Crichton and Chiana soon. As far as she could tell the human was the only one who could moderate the Sebacean's irrational temper. Not that she would ever say as much to Aeryn. She was frightened of Aeryn Sun but not stupid.

* * * * *

He opened his eyes slowly. Everything felt sluggish, his body heavy and dull. A kind of non localised aching pain throbbed through his dead weight and confused the signals from his nerve endings. The light hurt his eyes. Seeing him flinch, the girl brought a screen of wide panapa leaves and positioned it to filter the light. A green tinge touched his pale face. He had lost a lot of blood. Hazily her face hovered in his view. His throat was dry so he licked his lips to moisten them. The girl noticed and brought water but did not let him drink. Instead she dipped in a finger and traced the moisture along his lips. He tried to nod his thanks but his head would not obey him. It weighed more than the planet at that microt. "Th...thanks."

She smiled. But it was too brief and he missed it the microt it vanished. She was such a tiny child with a bright almond shaped face, moonglow eyes and hair darker than midnight with a sheen that carried the night sky in its' depths. "You were talking in your sleep."

Her voice surprised him. Light but strong. Assured for one so very young. "I was?"

She nodded and stroked his hand. He barely noticed. Supposed it was intended to soothe him but he was hardly aware of her touch. His mind was a fog and he kept drifting in it. He started mumbling again, drifting. Wanting to say something to thank her for sitting with him. A story. A verse. Anything to bring a smile of joy to the child's solemn face. She leaned her head to one side, listening to the nonsense falling from his lips and tripping from his tongue:

"One dark day in the middle of the night
Two dead men got up to fight.
Back to back they faced each other
Drew their swords and shot each other..."

She giggled. Such a bright sound. He sighed. Pleased and thankful all at once. So much it hurt. Seeing his distress her humour faded and she put a gentle hand over his wound. When she took the hand away it was stained red with his blood and weeping pus. The child ran to where Bish was sleeping curled in a corner on juruk fibre matting. She shook him and he opened a bleary eye. "Rana what is it?"

"The human. Look!"

She held up her bloody palm and Bish jumped up and hurried over to him. Concerned, he peeled back the moss padding from the wound. He swore. The wound had become reinfected. Crichton was watching his face, awake but not really processing much of what he was seeing. Bish put a hand to his forehead. The human was burning up. Beads of perspiration soaked his face and neck. Bish was not sure he could save him but he had to try. He tried to think of all the things his martaw had taught him. Long dead now but not lost to him. He sat next to Crichton and murmured the sacred words over and over in his mind, the familiarity of the mantra allowing him to drift into trance for the answer he sought. She came to him pale as the winter moon, her silky tresses flowing in the solar winds behind the shadows of her face. "Why do you seek me, my son?"

"He is dying. I cut out the poison from Inshinn's arrow but it has become re-infected."

She nodded. Gentle. Compassionate and so very wise. "Which poison did Ishinn use? Tree bark or eskin?"

He could feel himself trembling. "Eskin."

It was the more deadly of the possible choices in the Forest. The poison of a particular snake whose bite could cause death within an arn. Only Bish's actions in cutting out some of the poison had allowed the human to live this long. But some had got into his bloodstream and was even now working its' insidious way to his heart. She nodded solemnly. "Then you must let the ama finish the circle so the fates may decide. If he is strong it will cure him."

Bish felt tears prick his eyes. But he was a warrior however small and no tears would fall from his eyes. "He must not die, mother. I am sworn to protect him."

"Then hurry, my son. His light grows dim."

He bowed. After a few microts he opened his eyes. The human had drifted off into a fevered sleep. Bish rose to his feet and looked at his sister. "Watch over him Rana, I must go."

"Where? Where are you going?"

"Into the Forest. Let no food or water pass his lips until I return."

"And if he gets worse, brother?"

"Pray for him."

She nodded, sad, and watched her brother go. He tumbled down from the tall tree, his bare feet hardly gripping the furred trunk in his descent. The moss covered trees were huge, their girths several dench across. As soon as his feet hit the ground he crouched, looking for the signs he needed. It took him half an arn to find the correct species of ama. He caught it behind the head and carried it live back up the tree, the ama wrapping its supple length round and round his forearm. When he reached Crichton, his sister backed off a little but watched her brother's face closely. Waiting to see what he wanted her to do.

"Hold his arm out Rana, underside facing up."

She did as he asked. Bish brought the head of the snake up to the nearest visible vein. He looked at his sister with an apology in his eye. He could not ask anyone else, they were scattered out in the Forest protecting this most sacred of places. They would not be back until Father Sun had fallen and Mother Moon held them again in her cool hands. "Massage the vein, Rana. It must be high and proud so that the fangs will find their mark."

Rana shuddered only a little then did as she was told. Bish watched the vein come up then nodded to her to move back. Carefully he offered the vein up to the ama and loosened his grip on its' head. Light a whiplash the ama struck, fangs sinking deep into Crichton's arm and puncturing the vein. Red blood dripped brightly down his arm but no one moved to do anything. Bish and Rana watched the snake. Waited for it to empty its' sac. Then Bish blessed the ama and let it slither away. He knelt beside the human and washed away the blood, the small punture wounds leaving angry red marks raised against the pale skin. Then Bish took several deep breaths, bent his head and patiently began to suck the poison back out of him. Rana watched in silence. The precise amount of the ama's poison necessary to heal the infection was not known but this method had proved the most accurate. As Bish drew out the poison instinct would tell him when he had drawn enough. Providing the timing was right it could save the human. If this failed he surely would die and not even the fates would save him.

* * * * *