A R N I N G
may say, that the Scarecrow-TV episode is the version Goose and
Niko finally agreed to report to Fox and Walsh when they returned
#1: just after Scarecrow attacked Niko
getting restless again. Zozo looked, worried, at sleeping
Niko. Quietly he left the room, crossed the hall and knocked on
Goose's door. The door opened and the barrel of a laser rifle
vanished sideways. Gooseman wore only uniform trousers and socks.
Since Scarecrow had forced his way in this afternoon all of them
were tense. "You have to come. I can't calm her. Every time
she falls asleep, she wakes up seconds later, screaming. I don't
know what to do." The little Kiwi wrung his hands in
hid her face behind her arms in unconscious repulsion. She
trembled. She cringed, her rigid muscles tugging at the blaster
wound between left shoulder and breast. "No!! No..."
Her cry ended in a half-telepathic sound of confusion that
resonated in the room. Goose fell to his knees beside her bed,
grabbing her wrists and pulling them with controlled power from
her face. Zozo, standing near the door, hesitated. It wouldn't
have occurred to him to touch her that forcefully. Obviously not
needed for the moment, he climbed into a chair next to the door
and tried to rest.
...the sudden tension between them seemed almost visible to Zozo. Did they actually remember him sitting there? Should he leave the room? He shook his head and jumped silently down from his chair. Humans... Zozo slipped out of the room and quietly shut the door. I thought I was done being surprised by this species.
gasped. Niko kissed him with considerable intensity. Her tongue
forced her way between his lips, touching his teeth, his palate,
getting caught with his own. Her hands burned on his chest. She
flung an arm around his neck, pulled him down to her, while the
other hand fumbled for the fastenings of his trousers. He managed
to slow down his fall, felt her hand on his thigh. He couldn't,
wouldn't fight against her. Following her almost insane passion,
he gave in, burying his face in her chestnut-red hair. A fever
seized him, and he felt his body react, as if making a choice his
mind could not. The movements of Niko's body beneath his dragged
him. He felt her nails digging into his back. She slung a leg
around him, to pull him in entirely. "Niko, we shouldn't..."
Her kiss silenced any objection.
It got cold in the hall outside. Zozo tried to open Goose's door but it was locked. Annoyed, he looked around. Finally, he decided he'd been polite enough and opened Niko's door slightly. His big Kiwi ears twitched: Silence. He slipped into the room and climbed again into his chair at the door, trying to ignore the two shadows huddled together in the tan twilight of a moonlit night.
A knocking at the door roused Goose out of sleep. A little disoriented he shook his head. What happened?... He felt Niko's warmth at his side and remembered: her panic, her desire... He propped his head on his hands, rubbed his aching eyes.. Finally he ran his hands through his hair to push it back and got to his feet in one motion. The knocking repeated. The doctor's voice demanded entry. The violet light of a Granna morning played on the quilt. Niko's hand searched for him, but she didn't wake. He wrapped the blanket closer around her and fastened his clothes. Zozo slept on the chair next to the door, a rifle across his knees. If he...? Irrelevant now! Goose carefully lifted the gun from Zozo's limp fingers and opened the door.
What happened last night?" Zozo looked quite nosily at him.
His innocent blink got on Goose's nerves.
#2:At the end of Scarecrow, before they enter Ranger-1:
were awaiting their clearance for takeoff in the pilots' lounge
at the Granna spaceport. Zozo kept an eye on the ship, which was
already prepared for launch. Niko had already had a serious
conversation with him, telling him what would happen if Fox
or even worse, Walsh were to hear anything about the
events Zozo had witnessed. She reminded him that Goose had to
fear the cryocrypt if he acted against his SuperTrooper training,
as the Board of World Leaders wasn't very liberal when it came to
SuperTrooper matters. And she herself would have to face
disciplinary action, or even worse, for her own behavior. Finally
he had understood. It had been a hard conversation for her, but
the one ahead was even more difficult. Gooseman sat at a small
table working on a first draft of his report. Her cheeks flamed
at the memory of his body collapsing beside hers. She paced the
room, finally stopping abruptly. Now or never.
...he saw the events again, this time through her telepathic eyes: fibrous black nothing crept towards him, a total void lacking any kind of substance, devouring everything everywhere. The whole room had a telepathic layer, like an additional dimension... He never had the faintest idea that psionics were like that. And then the void stirred again, streaking out for him, encircling him. He wanted to scream in terror... He saw himself, saw his gleaming aura of blue-golden vitality like a wall of flames between him and the darkness, felt the overpowering desire to touch this life, to wrap the memories of sulfurous death in his soul with this feeling of vitality to make it bearable... The memories of pain and death were dwarfed by the light, covered in a gleaming cocoon of telepathic silk...
looked uncertainly at Goose, trembling again in the memories of
death, of him, of what she'd done with him... He looked up,
showing shock and bewilderment in his eyes. "Shane..."
She felt deep sorrow now, starting to recognize the real nature
of his trouble - not her actions but his physical reactions to
#3: just after Scarecrow's Revenge during hyperspace travel back to BetaMountain.
leaned back in her seat. "I'm really glad you were the one
assigned to that cartography mission. At first, Commander Walsh
wanted Doc to do this job." She grinned weakly. "Don't
get me wrong: I just think you were more helpful with dealing
with Scarecrow on Tarkon than Doc would have been."