tabaqui | Scaling Heaven, part six....

Scaling Heaven, part six....

Friday, December 23rd, 2005 11:44 pm

...it rhymes!
Sorry. Feelin' a little punchy. Heh.

Went out to stores *three times* today. OMG. I despise shopping at the best of times. Shopping *now*, when everyone is running around like weasles on crack? The absolute worst. Jayzus.

And why, why, why do people who apparently can't read, can't open plastic bags, and can't *touch the right button on the touch screen* use the self-serve checkouts? And when the sign says 'Express - 20 items only', why do they go up there with a *loaded cart* and start fumbling around??

*sporks them mercilessly*

Thanks for adding *twenty minutes* to the hell of my shopping day!
The reason i use the self-checkout is so i don't have to be social and talk to anybody! When you're trapped in neverending lines, it's inevitable that some doofus will *talk to you*!!

*sporks everyone*
*except my flist*
*ahem*

Anyway. A nice dinner at my mother in law's house this evening that my sister in law prepared. She really, really, really needs a vacation. Anybody wanna give a single mother of four a break?
*pets sister in law, who is *losin' it*, slowly but surely*

On to the fic! Many hugs and thanks to

reremouse, as always, for beta-ing and reading over and in general being utterly honest. *smooch*
Previous parts are here.

Ferro stood in a sort of modified 'parade rest' stance, his rifle resting casually in his hands. The gun tucked into the waist of his fatigues was digging into his back a little and he shifted slightly, eyes on the crowd of dogs. Next to him, Xander shifted and fidgeted and shifted again, muttering something very softly under his breath and glaring daggers at any dog that looked his way.

Fortunately, the dogs didn't seem to care. They stood in silent rows in what had been the barracks/rec hall of a troop transport, watching the negotiations. What seemed like a thousand dog muzzles lifted and wrinkled and swung down again - twice that many dog paws tightened and then relaxed on various rifle stocks and handguns as the voices coming from the center of the room rose and then dwindled again.

*Two fucking hours. Not gonna get any better. Jesus, this sucks.* Two hours of talking, yelling, threats and curses - two hours of the heads of fifteen jyiiy - including Rrahn's - barely restraining themselves from mass murder as Peacher stuttered and sweated and Spike paced and smoked. It was all a fucking mess. Xander shifted again and Ferro leaned into him the merest fraction, scowling. "Would you knock it off?" he hissed and Xander trained his glare on Ferro, instead.

"My fuckin' back hurts, I need to piss and the air in here is seriously compromised! I need to get back to the Dru."

"Yeah, well, you can crouch down and rest your back if you want and the fuckin' air in here isn't gonna kill you. As for needin' to piss - it's your own fault for not hooking up the fuckin' catheter when you put the suit on."

"It fucking chafes!" Xander snapped - dropped his voice back to a whisper as a nearby dog lifted an upper lip in a silent snarl. "And this is ridiculous! We can't go rushing into some kind of - civil war. It'll be like Llact. It'll be - worse -"

"Man, you know Spike's not that stupid. No matter what the fee is." For all his temper, Ferro could see the fear that underlay what Xander was saying. They'd always known dogs were ruthless with their own, but Xander had never actually seen it until Llact. Seeing it again hadn't been any picnic for Ferro, either, and no right-thinking spacer wanted to get in the middle of something like that if they could avoid it. But it looked like avoiding it was getting pretty impossible. It seemed that the home world dogs had finally decided to follow their exiled children into space and now they were running up against the edges of Outsider territory - and wanting it. Rrahn and her allied jyiiy were determined to hold ground - to maintain control of what they had and to force the home world crowd to negotiate - to recognize them. Home world jyiiy were senior, and therefore they expected to be deferred to.

Rrahn and her allies didn't want to defer, which was one reason for her recent power-plays - a canny and utterly ruthless plan to make a mostly-loyal army, and it had pretty much worked. But losing the Earth Ambassador had been a blow to Rrahn's credibility and if she didn't get him back soon - she'd lose everything she'd gained and probably her life in the bargain. Ferro couldn't even begin to care, but it was starting to look like the stability of every Outsider station - and every Outsider deal - hinged on the exiles keeping their status, and the home worlders keeping out of it.

Ferro looked up and around, eyeing the silent gallery of watchers in the bunk tier above them. This skip-point - they called it the Alamo - was a heaven for some sort of cult-y off-shoot of the Church of the Evanescent Spirit that had sprung up at the South Sea Bubble - the furthest human/demon station on the other side of Outsider territory. Ferro had no inkling as to what the tenets of this faction were, but apparently it included drugs. They'd passed row after row of hydroponic units on their way here, crowded thickly with luxuriant marijuana plants and orderly rows of bright poppies. This C of ES, Revised - had more money than god.

*Maybe they're the ones bankrolling Rrahn? Stuck out here at the edge like they are...letting this many dogs know their coordinates... Gotta be something in it for them. Outsider home world's supposed to be out this way - maybe they're paying for protection from these new dogs?*

Ferro shifted again, sighing a little. He was with Xander on one thing - his back ached, too, from carrying the weight of guns, ammo and armor, and he'd laced his left boot a little too tight. The voices were rising again from the huddle in the center - Spike snarling something at one of the dogs and Peacher doing his best to soothe them both without getting his head - literally - bitten off.

"It's a fucked up plan and a fucked up idea, Rrahn, and all the bloody prattle in the universe won't change that!" Spike looked like he was at the end of his rope, vamped and furious and practically spitting his words. Ferro leaned his head back and let it thump softly into the wall behind him. A Spike at the end of his rope was a Spike who did reckless things. Reckless things that would piss the dogs off. There was no way Ferro could shoot his way through the massed Outsiders and get himself and Xander back to the Dru. And no way could Spike win against the firepower that surrounded them.

*It sucks rocks, Cap'n, but for fuck's sake tell 'em we'll do it - tell 'em anything! Get us the fuck out of here and let Nia use her magic and find us a bolt hole for a while - find us a skip-point not on any map. By the time we come back, this'll all be...over. One way or another.* It wouldn't be the first time they'd played a client that had gotten a little too possessive of their hired hunters. *Fuckin' dogs are crazy - we don't wanna have any part of this...*

Spike tossed down the cigarette he'd been smoking - and Ferro couldn't believe he'd brought the damn things over but then, he'd probably have already killed somebody if he hadn't had them to fool with - and snapped something at Rrahn. Unhooked his helmet from his belt and turned around - strode through the crowd to where Ferro and Xander had straightened up, tense and eager.

"We've gotta talk. Let's go."

"Fuck yes," Xander muttered, getting his helmet free and twisting it on. Ferro pushed away from the wall and followed them, watching the dogs part like grass. The tube seemed even colder after the humid fug of the Alamo and by the time they got home safe to the Dru, Ferro could hear Xander's teeth chattering. His own fingers were numb with cold, and his lungs burned from the nearly-pure oxygen in the suit tanks.

"'Bout there - here we go - Nia, we're at the hatch."

"I see you, Ferro. Opening." Setting foot on the Dru's familiar, scarred decking was a relief and they wrestled their helmets off and started getting out of the suits. "Cap'n, there's someone else in the tube."

"We're locked up tight - who the bloody hell is it?" Spike asked, rubbing his hand on the frosted port in the hatchway door and frowning.

"It's... Rrahn says you'll do the job - say's H'ru has to come with us. Says he has the codes. Cap'n?"

"Oh, fuck's sake -" Ferro said, and Xander hit the inner-hatch switch hard enough, it had to hurt.

"I'm gonna go get warm - make some coffee."

"Xander..." Spike took a deep breath - shook his head. "Fuck, yeah, make some coffee." Spike hurled his helmet hard enough into a locker to crack it and Ferro watched Xander's shoulders twitch up and then go down. Then he nodded and walked out, down the corridor to the lift.

"I'll make sure dog's clean - you guys go up," Ferro said, and Spike slammed his locker shut - stood there for a moment in his own 'battle gear'. Eighty-year-old black jeans and a t-shirt from Earth that spent most of their time in a sealed box, and his steel-toed boots that were steeped in so much history - and DNA - they were practically sentient. The long, black leather coat that lived in a climate-controlled stasis-box - and made an appearance once every few years - had been too bulky to fit under the suit.

"Yeah. I know this is fucked, Ferro. But it's - important. It's -"

"Tell me up on the deck," Ferro said, reaching out and finding Spike's shoulder and giving it a hard squeeze. Spike's face finally relaxed back to his human features.

"Yeah, okay. Watch yourself. Nia, keep an eye down here, yeah?"

"Aye, Cap'n."

Spike's hand came up and gripped Ferro's shoulder for a moment before sliding away. "Be careful, and lock him up when you get him back to the office."

"Yeah, will do. Don't let Xander eat all the damn cookies. You know he'll be diving right in."

"Bloody junk food. Thought he'd have grown out of that by now." Spike grinned suddenly, the devil-may-care, tooth-baring expression of a predator that's just decided what prey to take down. "This is gonna work for us, Ferro, or we'll be taking a little trip to Neverland, I promise you that."

"Always wanted to be a Lost Boy," Ferro said, grinning back, and then the hatch was cycling to let H'ru in and Spike strode away down the corridor. Xander was holding the lift for him. Ferro picked up his rifle and turned around to face the incoming dog. Fairies were from Neverland - Nia's home world that neither she nor any other Fairy had ever talked about or even given a clue as to where it might be. Ferro shook his head, watching the dog through the port. If anyone could get them to Neverland, it would be Spike.

"Hurry up, you damn dog," Ferro muttered. "Xander's gonna have those damn cookies gone."

Gathering in the mess hall. It was what they did. Someone always made coffee - although as a rule Spike was banned from touching the machine - and someone always broke out food of some sort. Bread and cheese or fruit or chocolate if they'd had a good run, skip bars and chips if they hadn't. This time... Well, this time Xander was hauling out the real heavy-duty stuff. His very own hoarded stash of baklava that he'd traded for at Whale Deep three jobs back, and the very best cookies Fenris had to offer, rich with butter and nuts and caramel. Also - and Spike was gonna kill him but, fuck it - the last of the hydroponic coffee that the miners out on Charybidis grew. It was like gold on the black market. Normally they only use it by common consent but Xander was on edge and ready to smack somebody - he needed it.

Spike came back into the mess at a brisk pace, having been conferring up on the bridge with Nia. His nostrils flared and he narrowed his eyes, glaring first at the coffee maker and then at Xander.

"Xan -"

"Don't even, Spike. I'll do septic duty for six months, I don't care. I need it."

"Fuck, we all do," Ferro said, slipping in behind Spike and grabbing him hard around the ribs with both arms - pinning Spike's arms down and frog-marching him toward the table. "Got the dog settled. Don't get all spastic, man."

"I'm not spastic -" Spike snarled, and Nia came around the corner, looking tired.

"You are, Cap'n. Besides, I vote aye."

"Me too," Ferro said. Spike flexed and broke Ferro's hold - turned around and glared at him and Ferro grinned back.

"Me three. Majority rules."

"This isn't a bloody democracy -"

"Yes it is," they chorused, and Spike growled.

"Am I going to get to finish a sentence any time soon?"

Ferro looked over Spike's head at Xander and Xander lifted his eyebrows. "You just did. Now sit down, Captain, and tell us what's going on." Xander watched Spike start to ruffle up and then watched him sag a little - watched Ferro hook out a chair with his boot and push Spike gently toward it and Spike slump down. *Not good, not good. What the hell is going on? Should have brought the damn snoopers or something so me and Ferro could have listened in.* Xander turned around and got four cups down from the cabinet and checked on the coffee. Done.

"Hey Nia, wanna -?"

"Of course." Nia came over to pour out the coffee. She was the only one they trusted to make the portions even. She only took half a cup, herself - even with the good stuff, she ended up with more sugar and cream than coffee.

"Hey!" Ferro exclaimed, seeing the baklava at last and Xander smothered a laugh. He'd been wondering how long it would take anybody to notice. "You said it was all gone!" Xander picked up two cups and walked carefully to the table, watching Ferro pry at the lid of the tin.

"Yeah, 'cause you can eat a fucking pound in one sitting. That stuff cost me, man!"

"You're supposed to share with your crewmates! All for one and - whatever it is Spike says."

"One for all, you Philistine," Spike muttered, but he was sipping his coffee like it was ambrosia from the gods and Xander could see that the tension had gone out of him a little bit. His own jangled nerves were starting to feel a little smoother and he sat down and scooted his chair over close to Spike's - pressed his knee up against Spike's thigh and his shoulder to Spike's shoulder.

"Sorry I tweaked on you," he murmured and Spike pushed into him, letting their heads touch gently and just leaning there for a moment.

"Yeah. Sorry I got us into this soddin' mess. And it's about to get messier, boys and girls." Ferro popped the tin open finally and then put it down, eyeing the baklava but showing admirable restraint in not snatching a piece. Xander had no such compunctions - he nudged Spike one last time and then sat up and grabbed a piece. Ferro rolled his eyes and did the same - took a huge bite and then turned to Spike, talking with his mouth full.

"Messier how? I get that the Ambassador was kidnapped and for some fucked up reason Rrahn wants us to go and get him - but I don't get why us." He spat crumbs on the sibilant and Spike leaned away from him, scowling. "Why not just - gather the troops and go in shooting?"

"Yes, I'm wondering why not that, too," Nia said. She put her spoon in the washer and joined them, sipping at her pale-tan coffee with a blissful expression. She reached into the plasticware that held the cookies and took one, nibbling a corner with her little, pointy teeth.

"Rrahn's got this...idea," Spike said, and Xander sighed.

"I'll bet," Xander grumped. "Like the idea to get the Dru's crew sold to the Chaddock. Like the idea that escorting that fucked up mystic would be a good idea and then not telling us he was wanted in half of Outsider space. Or the idea that -"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, Xander, I know," Spike sighed - reached for his own square of baklava. "Rrahn's a bitch but she pays. In addition, she's not picky and she never fucking asks questions. We've come off worse with those that're straighter, and you all know it."

"Yes, we have," Nia murmured, fingering the scar on the back of her hand that was from a 'legit' deal gone sour. Sometimes 'hired help' meant 'expendable'.

"Yeah, okay - but?" Xander took another bite of his baklava, rolling the honey and nuts and sweet, flakey pastry over in his mouth. Sheer perfection.

"But. It's not another bunch of allied jyiiy that took the Ambassador - it's a renegade dog that's trying for revenge and Rrahn wants to take them out personally. Our job would be to get the Ambassador before Rrahn blows 'em out of the sky."

"Ookay - so - who?" Xander had a feeling they weren't going to like this.

Spike sighed - took a long drink of his coffee and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "It's what's left of Y'yis' crew. His second in command was his cousin or some such and he's called yr'rach on Rrahn and all her jyiiy since Rrahn killed Y'yis back at Fenris." Yr'rach was - something like a war, something like a feud. Something Outsiders did often and it usually meant clear the decks and batten down the hatches. Xander shivered, huddling over his hot cup a little. Pushing images from Llact out of mind as firmly as he could.

*Spike promised, and he keeps his promises. Always.*

"Y'yis that was screwing Rrahn over six ways from Sunday?" Ferro asked, and Spike nodded.

"Yeah - that whole mess with the m'ryi and Fat Jack - that was just the last straw. The Azk'k clan's trying to save face and I guess Y'yis' cousin thinks this is the way to do it. Bring the Ambassador to these home world dogs and get Earth involved in their little pissing contest in a big way - get back everything they lost when they screwed Rrahn over and get to be the head honchos of the new world order or some such bollocks. If the new dogs get the Ambassador, it'll mean Earth's too weak to hold their own."

"And that would be...bad," Nia said softly, and they all looked at her. "We have seen the home world. We've seen - what they can do. The dogs - will not hesitate to ruin every station between home world and Earth, and Earth in the bargain. They have no concept of compromise. And..." Nia paused and chewed her lip and Spike leaned toward her, a sudden look on his face that was a mix of anger and excitement.

"And? Spit it out."

"And - the rumors are true. The Outsiders have found another string of viable planets on the other side of Earth space. If Earth cannot help the Outsiders against the home world dogs... They won't hesitate to let humanity be the buffer between them and the home world. They always make sure they have a backup."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Xander muttered, feeling sick. Ferro slammed his cup down, fists hard on the table and his shoulders hunched, as if against a blow.

"You know for sure, Nia?" Spike asked, and Nia nodded sadly.

"I know. We've been - listening. There are even sentient species there. Humanity - and demons - have to prove their worth in this. They've just become expendable." There was a long moment of silence after that while they all contemplated a whole new set of jyiiy - and not the jyiiy that had invited humanity into space, but the ones that had kicked the Outsiders out. Jyiiy that didn't see any of them as allies. Didn't even consider them useful. It would be - an apocalypse.

*And isn't that what I came to space to escape? Fucking apocalypses and hells and...and crazy shit like that? Damnit -*

"One more piece of bad news, and then we're gonna need to rig for a run," Spike said finally, and everyone braced themselves. Xander clutched his cup hard enough to make his knuckles turn white.

"Get on with it then," he muttered, and Spike looked over at him, an odd expression on his face.

"I know the Ambassador. It's another reason Rrahn wants me there. Thinks it'll - make me try harder."

"You do? You know the Ambassador. He's been the Ambassador for - seventy years or something," Ferro said, and Xander felt the baklava in his stomach suddenly turn to lead. He lifted his head and stared at Spike, and Spike stared back. There were probably two people in the entire universe that Spike knew that were that old. And one was impossible. The other - unthinkable.

"Don't say it, Spike, don't -"

"It's Angel," Spike said.

Part seven.

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