Disclaimer:  Crusade concept and characters belong to their creators and production company.  The following story is exclusive property of the author; no copyright infringement is intended.
Rating: PG-14.  Sequel to  One Step at a Time.

A Different Perspective

© 1999, Jo Taylor

The Excalibur hung, huge and vaguely menacing, above Terea's abandoned surface.  "Now, what are you doing here?" Galen murmured.

The planet was known to the Technomages for a variety of reasons; not least, it's unsuitability for re-inhabitation.  A century before the surface had been bombarded by a large meteorite storm.  Their impact had initiated severe repercussions.  Floods had cleansed two thirds of the habitable land of its denizens.  A few natives had survived in odd pockets of stability but disease and hunger soon wiped them out.  The Tereans had never wanted space flight; their life had been idyllic, peaceful.  The need to conquer had never touched their hearts.  Before the disaster, the mages had often visited this haven.  What it lacked in technology was more than counter balanced by the herbal lore and medicinal expertise.  They welcomed visitors, would help and heal all that came to them, without a thought to travel themselves.  His order had done what it could to save the few remaining Tereans, rescuing maybe fifty, possibly less.  All that remained of a once populous world.  For all intents and purposes, the race died out nearly one hundred years ago.  Their knowledge lost.

How did you find this place, Gideon.  Who told you about the Tereans?

Galen had long wondered on Matthew's source of information.  He had his suspicions, as yet unfounded.  He hoped he were wrong, for Gideon would never willingly give up such a power.

He headed the flyer toward the landing bay.  Uncloaking his ship, he called ahead.  "Landing lights on, please.  Put out the welcome mat.  I'm back."

Striding into the bridge area all seemed quiet, bare of company.  Matheson sat in the captain's chair, Dureena was not visible and Max was probably on the surface grubbing around in the ruins.

"Where is everyone?"

The telepath's glance told him the testiness he was feeling had come through in his voice.  He made a conscious effort to control his feelings.

"I take it they are down there, somewhere.  They won't find any technology you know, they had no use for it."

"Actually, Max has found some texts, they are in the process of removing them from one of the buildings right now."

"You mean actual papers?  Not wall paintings, not etchings but hand written records?" He could not keep the astonishment from his tone this time; something that reflected in Matheson's barely held back smirk.

"Don't let them touch it.  I'm going down there."

"But . . . !"

"The least touch could crumble them to ashes.  If Eilerson wants to read them, tell him to wait."

He almost ran from the room in his eagerness to reach the surface.  He tuned in to the bridge communications as he sped through the ship.  Listening in as his order was relayed, and Max's curses answered.

Two minutes into his flight the Excalibur contacted him.  "Galen, Galen if you can hear me please respond."

"I hear you.  There's no need to shout, my hearing is quite adequate, thank you.  What is it?"

"Seismic activity just went up, and the communications went down.  Galen, I can't warn them.  I'm sending you the camp co-ordinates, can you help?"

He waited impatiently as his computer accepted the data.  "I'll deal with it, how many are down there?"

"Twenty."

"You had best send a shuttle down.  I will warn them if I can, but be prepared for casualties."

As soon as the flyer entered the atmosphere, he began transmitting, but not until he was within a few miles of their position did he get a reply.  In the meantime, his computer kept scanning the area, searching for life signs.  One blip kept showing on the outskirts of the built up area, far away from the others who were congregated well within the ancient city's walls.  Gideon gave him the answer.  Dureena had wandered off, as usual; the away party had no idea of her whereabouts, could Galen find her?

"Not a problem.  I would suggest you remove yourself from the area however, the quake could hit at any minute." He hoped his warning reached them as static drowned out their reply.  Communications were still open to the Excalibur however, and he relayed instructions to Matheson on the flight deck.

His flyer skimmed over the ruins, narrowing down the area to search, homing in on her life signs.  Setting down as close to her position as possible, he made his way quickly through the ruined city.  The updated seismic reports his flyer transmitted to his receptors kept him on the move.

There, he could see her perched high above him.  Damn stupid place to sit.

"Dureena!"

His call was lost in the ominous rumble that assailed his senses.  The ground beneath his feet trembled, then seemed to ripple and heave; a chasm suddenly opened in front of him.  He saw Dureena start to run, saw her lose her footing and topple over the edge.  Ignoring his own danger he ran to where he could see her descent, wincing as she bounced against the wall she had so recently ascended.

He slammed into her just as she touched ground.  Part of the wall was heading straight for them and he pushed her down, shielding her with his body.  His bulk smothering her slim form.  She felt so fragile beneath him.

As stones rained down on them, Dureena exploded into action; seemed to go berserk.  He saw terror in her eyes, a fear that she had never shown before.  Small fists hit out at him, her whole body rejected his weight; he had to do something quickly or they would both be seriously hurt.  With a well-placed pinch on a receptive nerve, he rendered her unconscious.

When the shaking finally stopped he stood and surveyed the damage around them.  The whole building had collapsed.  Fortuitously for them, the majority of the structure had fallen inward.  His back and legs ached from the impact of falling debris.  He could feel the bruises already starting to form.  They had been lucky -- this time.

The journey ahead was daunting; between here and his flyer lay a considerable obstacle course to be navigated.  He checked quickly for his staff; it lay part hidden under her small frame.  Retrieving it hastily, he checked for damage.  The implants responded well to the mechanism and he let out a sigh of relief.  With no other members of his order to turn to, repairs would have been almost impossible.

He turned his attention to Dureena, doubting her hurts were more serious than bruising going by the fight she had just put up.  What worried him more was the naked terror he had espied in her eyes.  He had never seen her that afraid before, and they had faced some serious perils in this quest.

Turning his mind from paths best left unexplored he began checking her body for broken bones or worse.  Clothing had been torn away in patches, exposing skin that already was showing bruising, deep cuts and scrapes.  Starting at the skull, he worked his way efficiently down her body.  Avoiding the damage done to her torn flesh, he continued his exploration.  His main concern now was the probability of internal damage.  Pressing lightly on her abdomen, checking for pressure to indicate bleeding, she suddenly awoke and did her best to rise.  The caustic remark that had been about to pass his lips died when he caught sight of her face.  The terror still lurked in her eyes; a terror more personal than the outcome of this accident could have roused.  So he held back his comments and quietly instructed her to let him finish.  All the while his mind turned over plausible reasons for her extreme trauma.  She had faced death before, never with any hint of fear, almost as though her life was not of paramount importance when weighed against a needier cause.  That he held the same view he did not consider.

Her ankle had been broken cleanly in two.  Probably when she hit the ground, had he been a few seconds later he dreaded to think what damage might have occurred.  The only viable way to proceed was to carry her; the pain she was suffering right now was nothing to that which she would experience trying to walk.  He bent to pick her up, and got abuse for his trouble.

At her insistence he helped her up, supported her as best he could with one arm, using the staff to balance himself.  He felt every shudder of her body as pain lanced through her.  His lips tightened on each scorching remark that tried to pass his lips, as his temper rose.

Damn stubborn woman.  What the hell does she think she is doing?  How am I supposed to get her out of this?  There, she's still struggling against me.  Damn the woman.  Damn the woman.  He may not be willing to confront her verbally but that didn't mean he could not think his rage into words.  Had she any idea how hard this was for him?

He didn't think she was aware of the groans that escaped her each time they took another jolting step.  He felt her body clench itself against another wave of pain, her fingers curling painfully into his shoulder.  She was white with the effort; eyes half closed as she concentrated on blocking out the agony.  He could not watch any longer.  Clasping her free hand around his staff, he lifted her easily into his arms; she was a light burden.  Ignoring her curses, he made swift progress through the rubble that littered their way.  She was rigid in his hold.  That the pain was great he was sure, whether that was the whole problem, he doubted.  He did not know what to say to her, what would make her relax in his embrace.  The fact that she could still harangue him encouraged him somewhat.  Surely if she were that badly hurt his parentage would be the last thing on her mind!

Tremors shook the area, more debris hurled its way toward them, and he hurried on, Dureena quiet now yet unbending in his grasp.  The flyer had survived the quakes undamaged, and he hurried to it.  Laying her down on his bed, he quickly took out the medical kit he had added to the ship.  When he had returned from his self-imposed search for Isabelle's killers, he had equipped the vessel with every practical healing device.  Having not been able to assist her had torn him apart, left him scarred for many years.  He could not help thinking of her as he prepared the painkillers for Dureena.  How he wished he had been as prepared then, as he was now.  His loneliness returned for a brief instant, then he turned his attention to the woman lying on his sheets.

He watched amused as the drug took effect, the grin on her face such a contrast to the grimace that had resided there throughout their journey.  He wasn't sure just how soporific it would be, hopefully enough to let her rest before they returned to the Excalibur.  He had first to check on Gideon and the others, though by now the shuttle should have arrived to take back any injured.  Once he left the ship, his safety measures would automatically set.  It could be fatal if she attempted to gain access to his computer logs.

The sleepy smile that lit her face as he tried to explain the precautions he had taken amused him and his mouth twisted into an answering grin of its own.  No, she would not be awake much longer.  To keep the flyer from harm he set the autopilot to hover the ship some five hundred metres above the surface until he was ready to leave.  The last thing he needed was to find it at the bottom of a chasm on his return.

The campsite was wrecked, flattened almost beyond recognition.  What was left of the temporary shelters, lay in a jumbled heap.  Gideon, Max and the scientists that had accompanied them were nowhere in sight as he strode into the melee.

"Matthew!  Eilerson!  Anyone?"

He expected to find bodies, alive or dead, something to indicate that the crew was still in the area, for he had not seen the shuttle on his journey through what was left of the city.  And then he heard voices, faint yet close by.  Within the nearest structure.  Were they totally insane!

Max was the first to arrive, carrying a large silver box with great delicacy, almost tiptoeing across the debris-strewn area.  Behind him came Gideon, covered in dirt, bruised and cut about the face and hands but alive.

"Hello, Matthew.  I see you have been enjoying yourself again."

"Did you find her?"  Typical of the captain to put his concern for others above his own problems.

"Don't worry, she's in my flyer.  I promised John I would check in on you and she is in no danger right now.  Broken ankle, cuts and bruises much the same as yourself.  Is everyone here okay?"

Gideon's gaze rested on Eilerson's bent head.  The archaeologist was holding tightly to his burden as though it held the Holy Grail.

"That's the only box we could find.  Most of the material inside is nothing more than dust, but there are a couple of fragments left that appear legible." He turned back to the ruin behind them.  "Buried somewhere in there are six more containers of possibly viable material.  All that we found with their contents intact.  Do we go in for them, Galen?  Will it be worth the time and effort, or do we move on?"

Why was he suddenly being asked for an opinion?  Matthew had his own sources, vary rarely did he take Galen's suggestions seriously when his other option came up with a location.  Though this was the third time that source had almost killed Gideon or his crew.  Was he only now considering the wisdom of his choices?

"If it is truly the Terean's work you hold, then yes.  They may not have encountered the plague but, their knowledge -- Matthew, you have no idea what these people could do!"

"But you do?"

Always suspicion, always scepticism.

Another aftershock hit the camp, saving him from answering.  Max stood, hugging the box close to him, dampening the tremors.

"Your shuttle is arriving, hurry now."

"How . . . ?"

His ship had relayed the message that still could not reach the crew.

Ignoring the question, he hurried them toward the set down point, leaving the party when his own flyer's position was nearly reached.  Calling down the ship he entered quickly and took off, speeding away from the shaking earth that tore itself apart beneath his thrusters.

Dureena lay peacefully asleep; one arm flung off the bed at an uncomfortable angle.  Leaving the computer to take them back to the Excalibur, he crossed to her side, bending down next to her recumbent form.  She had fascinated him from the first moment they had met.  Her courage moved him, her inner strength almost visible at times.  And yet she was vulnerable.  He had used her shamelessly in order to open the hidden doors guarded by the path of sorrows.  Her tears a testament to her emotional depth.  At times he wished that he could weep for all that he had done, cleanse the stains from his soul - if he had one.  He sometimes doubted his own humanity; there were so many things he had done that could never be forgiven.

He gently placed her arm by her side, holding the small hand in his large one for a moment.  Something within him stirred, sympathy maybe?  He could not consider any stronger emotion for that way would lie ruin, for both of them.  Her brow was smooth of any pain now, and he briefly touched the soft skin with the palm of his hand.  No fever, good.  Brushing back the hair from her face, a tenderness swept through him that shocked and warmed him.  Quickly, he pulled his hand back as though burned by the contact.  He rose hastily and resumed his place at the console.

Continued

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