Till Death, Part Two

By: Speedbump <ledbette@ttc-cmc.net>
Rated PG-13 / R | 49KB | Archived 01.16.00
Spoilers: Season one
Summary: John and Aeryn are on the run and finding each other. The others
manage to escape the PeaceKeepers, only to have troubles of their own. And
does it end with a cliff hanger? Does the proverbial bear drop waste
material in the woods? :)

Disclaimer: Same old thing, aint mine, making not a dime, yadda yadda yadda.
Spoilers: part one, of course, little bit of my other three. Takes place
after Bugs Life, before Nerve etc. Alternate universe kinda thing now,
considering where Nerve and Hidden Memory have taken us.

Archive: Here, Pilot’s Farscape Zone, Browny’s, and Zen’s.

---

The planet whose name they still didn't know was a amalgamation of cultures
and technologies, somewhat like twentieth century Earth with it's third
world countries cheek and jowl with the Europe and the US, but much more
compressed. The result being they never knew if they were going to find a
primitive village or a high tech suburb in their travels. Running from the
main commerce town had been surprisingly easy considering the PeaceKeepers
had landed right after John, but luck had been with them, for a time.
Aeryn sat against the low brick wall out of the cutting wind. She felt
the comfortable bulk of her pulse rifle in her lap and her long knife at
her side. Dust eddied around her like a mischievous pup, nipping at her
ankles and stinging her eyes. She growled in frustration and rubbed them
with the back of her hand. She was filthy, they both were. It had been
five days and they had been on the run for all of them, never staying long
in any one place. They were tired but not terribly hungry. Food cubes, no
matter how unappetizing, kept them going. But worst of all was the stress.
Constantly looking over their shoulders and watching for danger while the
other slept was telling on them. So far they had kept out of sight of the
PeaceKeepers and they preferred to keep it that way.
The wind gusted again, this time with cold pellets of rain. Aeryn sighed
in frustration. She remembered rain from their trip to the false earth, it
had seemed so tranquil then, so soothing. This was misery. She absently
fingered the necklace of small pale blue stone set in liquid silver, John's
gift to her at his human holiday. It resembled the rain she was seeing
today about as much as a Hynerian resembled a Luxan.
A soft voice from her left startled her.
"Come back in here, my turn to watch."
She whirled to see Crichton observing her discomfort with a serious
expression. His seemingly never ending monologue of useless chatter and
courageous attitude hadn't dimmed at all, but he too was showing signs of
stress. As such he was less likely to try to tease her out of a situation
then he would have been earlier. Instead he adopted a take charge attitude
when she needed a break, and she found herself increasingly grateful. She
didn't even remonstrate him for startling her.
"Right then, hope you enjoy the weather." She smirked. He chuckled with
a grimace of distaste.
"It'll keep me awake at any rate." He was sitting in a small opening in
the stone wall, almost a cave. It was large enough for someone to lay
down, barely, and mostly dry. The wall itself was above a little used dirt
road some four or five miles from the nearest town. In the sudden storm
the night before it was the only shelter they could find. With daylight
the storm had barely abated, so they stayed to rest, hoping it would keep
them safe enough for that at least. Aeryn sat outside the hole under a
small scrubby tree, partially concealed from the road some twenty feet below.
John scrambled from the relative warmth of the hole to the bare shelter of
the tree. He let his body rest against Aeryn's, leg to leg, shoulder to
shoulder. As cold as she obviously was, she was also bored beyond belief
and didn't immediately leave. Instead, she let her exhausted body lean
against his, accepting the comfort he quietly offered.
"We need to find someplace to rest, really rest." He said at length.
"Maybe up in the woods, away from the natives."
"There's a reason the natives don't live there, you know." She said in
reply.
He shrugged indifferently. "I'd rather take my chances with the wild
animals than the PeaceKeepers at this point."
She only nodded in return. The wind hit them with a particularly strong
gust right then, spraying grit and rain in equal proportions. They both
ducked their heads down, and his arm went protectively around her. She had
to assume that this was normal on Earth, for human males to feel protective
of the female of their species. It was this way with many races. Not,
obviously, Sebaceans. As recently as a week or more ago she would have
flung his arm from her shoulders in disdain, but not now. Now she
recognized that regardless of the reasons, they both took comfort in his
gestures. She rationalized that he felt closer to his world and culture by
making familiar gestures like this, and besides, she didn't mind. It felt
good, she felt...safe. That was something you were never taught in PK
training, how to feel safe. It wasn't an objective, it wasn't tangible
like a victory or killing your enemy. It wasn't necessary to feel safe.
But now, here, on this hellish planet, being sought after by those she once
called comrade and with no hope of escape, she found that feeling safe,
even for only a moment, was important. She leaned into his body with relief.
They stayed in this desperate embrace for half an arn, until she realized
that sleep was overcoming her and she must get some rest. Gently, he
helped her into the hole and was not quite so surprised when she didn't
protest. Rather than relieving his concerns, this accentuated them. For
Aeryn to be so exhausted that she accepted his assistance was unheard of.
Crichton watched her drift off to sleep for a few microts, then returned to
his lonely vigil above the road. Their very existence relied on him for
the next few arns. If they were captured, he was certain they would die
horribly, and so he was determined to evade capture indefinitely. But
there were some real problems with this.
PeaceKeepers had a long tradition of getting results, and they were not
happy campers when they didn't. Destruction of property, mass executions,
brutality, torture, subverting the natives, they were well versed in all of
the best Nazi tactics John had ever heard of and probably had some of their
own as well. So he and Aeryn were doing their best to avoid the natives as
well as the PeaceKeepers. There was only one problem with that.
The only people on the planet were the natives, the PeaceKeepers, and John
and Aeryn. So that meant if a native saw them, they would most likely turn
them in to the PeaceKeepers in return for some gain, whether monetary or
simply relief of some sort. On most commerce planets there were so many
varieties of species it was much easier to blend in, even try to pass as a
different species. Here, wherever here was, the natives were those squat
gray beings with a heavy bristle of hair from the bridge of the nose to the
back of the neck. They hit both John and Aeryn about chest level, so
passing as a native was a no go. That left hiding, something John was
pretty good at when there was someplace to hide.
He let his gaze wander over the dimly lit countryside as he considered
their options. He studied the hills across the road in detail, noticing
everything he thought was pertinent to their survival. Possible water
sources, shelters, traps or dangers and of course, escape routes. He added
to that the information they already had and in his head created a map of
the ground they had covered. The hill country across the road looked
fairly extensive, there weren't likely to be more towns up there.
According to his "map" it was the least likely place for either natives or
PeaceKeepers, and that was good enough for him. By the time Aeryn awoke a
short arn before dusk John had a plan, a direction and the motivation. The
motivation being he was cold as hell and only a good long walk would help.
They walked into the forested hills briskly, hoping to find shelter before
dark. To John's dismay, Aeryn seemed ill at ease in the woods. It amazed
him that she deferred to his expertise, bare as it was. An abortive stint
in the boy scouts and a few camping trips with his dad barely qualified
him, but he did seem to have more woods experience than she.
The truth was, Aeryn felt completely out of her element once she was off a
ship or anywhere civilization seemed to be on the primitive side. And in
her exhausted state she wasn't about to challenge John's obviously superior
skills, in this instance at least. She was content to follow his lead.
And where he led her was a small cave in the hillside, hidden from view by
a screen of thick bushes. With some rudimentary geological facts tumbling
around in his brain he had reasoned that there might be caves in the hills.
He was correct. Finding this particular cave was a stroke of luck, or
maybe just a freak accident. He had fallen over an exposed root and landed
almost under a bush. There before him was what looked like a cave opening.
He checked it out first, crawling in with a flash and a pulse pistol in his
hand, sweeping the beam left and right in search of predators. But luck
was with them and the small cave was empty. In his examination he noticed
a small opening on top, no bigger than his fist. Upon a closer examination
both inside and out he saw a golden opportunity. With a grin and a quick
gleeful kiss, he told her to wait, he had a surprise. Then he left the cave.
He came back about fifteen microts later with an armful of dry wood and
piled it under the hole above. He was soaked from the increasing rain and
obviously cold, but still with an idiot grin. He looked at her and said
simply, "Tonight we get heat."
"You must be insane, Crichton. Don't you think that would be like
advertising where we are?"
"There's no risk, not tonight." He insisted. "There are bushes covering
that hole up there," he gestured to the small hole above them, "...they'll
dissipate the smoke. Besides, it's night, we're a long way from any town,
and the rain will keep anyone from seeing or smelling the smoke. And we'll
let it burn down before morning." He gave her his most disarming grin.
"Trust me, Aeryn, it's safe."
Still dubious, she was nevertheless hungry for heat. She nodded agreement.
In only a few short microts they had fire; a bustling, brisk hot fire that
felt like heaven. Even a meal of bland food cubes and water didn't
distinguish their mood. They soon found themselves shedding some outer
garments to dry in the heat of the flames. This gave John another idea.
{OK, everyone get their minds OUT of the gutter!}
Ignoring Aeryn's protests that he was insane to go outside again, John
left for more wood and took a small collapsible cooking pot with him. When
he came back, the pot was full of water. He set it by the fire to heat up.
"I thought you might like to clean up." He said simply. Aeryn stared
from the humble pot of water to John with dawning and not so grudging
admiration.
"And you? Are you going to clean up too?"
"Sure, but I'll let you go first." He replied smoothly.
"Oh, and why do I get to go first?" She asked suspiciously.
"Because you smell worse."
"Worse than what? You?" She tossed her jacket over his head. "Just for
that I won't let you watch."
Under her jacket, Crichton groaned theatrically and began to make gasping
noises. He fell over in a dramatic heap with his legs kicking and his body
twitching. Aeryn had to admit he was fairly convincing, but she only
smirked and kicked his ankle on her way by. "No peeking Crichton."
"You wound me, Aeryn." He sat up and tossed off the jacket, but kept his
face turned to the cave wall. "I wouldn't sully the virtue of one such as
you."
"I don't even want a translation of that, so don't even bother." He heard
splashing noises, and yearned to turn, just for a peek. Her radar must
have been fully operational because she spoke sharply at his back.
"Don't even think about it Crichton." A few droplets of water rained upon
his head. "I can hurt you, you know."
"Oh baby, don't I know it." He muttered with a grin.
For a time the only sound he heard was water splashing, and Crichton
concentrated on the sounds. Now, was she completely naked? No, not Aeryn.
She would strip down to her PeaceKeeper equivalent of a sports bra and his
Calvins and wash that way...wouldn't she? He ached to turn around, he
itched for it. He had to...He did.
Aeryn was bent over at the waist washing her legs. She wore Crichton's
Calvin Kleins and nothing else. He closed his eyes to the scene and then
opened them again. She had her back to him, but every time she turned even
just a bit he caught a tantalizing view...
"Crichton!" she shouted. He ducked just as a she threw her sopping wet
shirt at him. It hit the side of his head with a loud swaaap! He fell
over laughing.
She grabbed a semi clean shirt from the bag and threw it on, then jumped
on Crichton, pinning his arms over his head. He grinned up at her and
submitted at once. Damn him, she thought, he's enjoying this. And her
next thought was, so am I. But she made her face stern as she held him there.
"You said you wouldn't peek."
"No I didn't." He smirked.
"True, but I said you couldn't peek," she said menacingly. "Or I might
be forced to hurt you."
"Hurt me baby, make it hurt so good." He grinned like a madman and laughed.
"Crichton, you are just too bizarre." She said, but she was ginning like
an idiot herself. He was just so...infectious. She suddenly realized she
was sitting on top of him, dressed in only her tank top and a pair of
underwear. She was still wet, dripping in fact. Small wonder he was
enjoying himself. She decided a little turn about was fair play.
"So, Crichton, did you like what you saw?" She purred.
His eyebrows raised once, as if he couldn't quite believe what she had
said. His blue eyes turned bright with anticipation.
"Well, I really didn't see much..." he began. "Maybe we need to try that
again..."
She smiled then, a predatory smile that would have made Crichton nervous
in other circumstances. Amazingly enough, she grabbed the bottom edge of
her shirt.
"Did you see, this much?" She asked, teasing him by raising her shirt up
just a fraction. She was rewarded when he blushed an amazing shade of red
and seemed unable to speak. He only nodded.
"Well then, did you see this much?" And she raised her shirt a bit higher.
Again he nodded, unable to believe his good luck and definitely not
pushing it. This situation was just a bit too off center for him to feel
comfortable taking it further himself. Let her lead.
"Ok, did you see this much?" With that she pulled her top almost
completely off. He almost groaned in agony, but shook his head no.
And to his dismay she pulled her shirt back down abruptly. "Oh, too bad,
you don't get to see it now either. Your turn to get clean." And with
that she stood, leaving him on the cave floor with a red face and
a...predicament, so to speak.
She unceremoniously dumped the dirty water in a far corner of the cave and
handed to empty pot to John. "Maybe the cold rain will cool you off." she
said with knowing smile.
"You are one cruel woman, you know that Sunshine?" He groaned as he rose
to leave.
"Of that I am well aware." She answered smugly as he went out into the
frigid rain once again.




Leaving John and Aeryn alone on the planet had been difficult. Leaving
the system proved to be even more so. The PeaceKeepers had found them.
"Pilot! Can we evade them?" Zhaan asked frantically.
"No, I do not believe we can." He answered truthfully. "They can out
maneuver us of course, and outrun us. We are trapped."
"Then we will die fighting." D'Argo said defiantly.
There were murmurs of disagreement along with rumbles of assent, but it
was Pilot who surprised them.
"We are going to attempt Starburst." He stated quietly into the confusion.
"Pilot, I thought Moya couldn't starburst because of the baby." Zhaan
said worriedly.
"She might be able too, if it's imperative that she do so. I would say
this is a time to see if it's possible."
"And if she can't? If it doesn't work?" D'Argo asked.
"Then we will probably all die, but it would be preferable to all of you
being tortured to your deaths. Moya also prefers this option to most
certainly losing her baby and being a PeaceKeeper prison ship once again."
"If she can do it, then we must, it's our only hope." Zhaan answered
simply. She looked at the others for conformation, and received nods of
acquiescence for a reply.
"Then prepare for Starburst." Pilot said. "Please, hang on carefully,
this will be rough." He paused carefully. "If it works."
The PeaceKeeper ship loomed closer, a black menace. Rygell locked down
his chair and tied himself to it, Chiana squeezed herself into a tight
corner and held on. Zhaan and D'Argo braced themselves between the wall
and a console, holding onto each other for added strength.
Moya shuddered with strain, rumbling and wallowing in space as she powered
up for starburst. With a sort of grim satisfaction, D'Argo realized that
whether they managed to starburst or not, the power surge from Moya's
effort would probably fry the PeaceKeeper ship, maybe even destroy it. He
hoped he would be around later to gloat.
The floor suddenly bucked under them and then disappeared violently.
Despite their precautions they were all thrown wildly around the command
room. A shrieking Rygell slid by Zhaan, destined to crash unceremoniously
into the far wall. Zhaan snaked out a hand and caught him by one trailing
foot, stopping his forward momentum. Moya groaned with the strain, and
then suddenly they were in starburst, full fledged starburst, and all was
still.
But not all was well. Pilot began to call to them frantically as soon as
starburst was finished. They couldn't maintain it for long, less than an
arn for certain. Just long enough to escape the PeaceKeepers. But the
strain on Moya was tremendous. They could hear her groaning as they raced
to keep her functional through starburst. What they would find when they
stopped they didn't know. It was entirely possible that Moya wouldn't
survive the escape, and then they would all die as well.
In the midst of all the commotion, Zhaan had one particular thought that
kept nagging at her conscience. What about John and Aeryn? If they were
alive, would the rest of them even be able to find them? Or would they be
destined to live and die out their days on that planet, never knowing the
fate of their friends?




John woke slowly, aware that they were warm, safe and for the fist time in
days, resting comfortably. Not that a cave floor was actually comfortable,
he thought ruefully, but it sure beat sleeping in the rain in the crotch of
a tree. Besides, in the tree he didn't have a warm, sleeping woman cradled
in his arms.
He almost sat bolt upright at the realization that Aeryn was spooned
against him, her head nestled beneath his chin, her hips snuggled into his,
all their legs a tangle. His right arm was draped around her, and his
hand...he closed his eyes in fear and wonder. His hand seemed to be cupped
lovingly against her breast. He was a dead man, but he had a feeling he
might die happy.
Aeryn's PK training must have been in high gear, because she woke moments
after he did. He didn't move, hoping that by feigning sleep he might
escape physical harm. He did his best to keep his breathing low and even,
willing his body to keep it's lassitude of slumber. She took a deep breath
and moved slightly, rotating her hips into his and pulling one leg free.
He felt her breast move seductively against his hand and almost lost his
composure. When she suddenly stilled, he knew he was dead meat.
Aeryn came to the realization that Crichton's hand was someplace it
shouldn't be at the same time she realized that he wasn't asleep. Small
imperceptible movements of his body gave him away. He was also pressed up
against her tightly, and she could feel how her closeness had effected him.
Since he couldn't see her, she smiled wickedly.
"Crichton?" She asked with a distinct tone of danger in her voice.
"Umm, what?" He answered sleepily. She wasn't fooled.
"What are you doing." Danger, danger her voice screamed. She smiled still.
"Sleepin'." He murmured.
"No you aren't, you are talking to me."
"I would be sleeping if you weren't talking." he protested.
She was silent for a moment, then initiated part two of her plan. She
stretched languidly, letting her body rub against his and making sure he
got the full treatment. She was rewarded with a hiss and a low moan of
near pain. She grinned wider.
"Crichton?" She asked again, all sweetness.
"Y-yeah?" He answered shakily.
"Remove your hand."
He did so, promptly. He also managed to scoot back just a fraction. It
was when she suddenly lost that contact with him that she realized how much
she had been enjoying it. She remembered that time, how many months ago?
aboard her prowler when she had weakened and allowed him to make love to
her. She had, in effect, initiated the entire thing. And then turned on
him, told him it had never happened. She had nearly driven him to taking
his own life with her betrayal. And now she found herself once again in
his arms, running for their lives from PeaceKeepers, and she was still
pushing him away. What was she running from? Was she so insecure that she
felt nothing could happen between them without her initiating it? It was
only his respect for her that kept him from acting on his feelings. He
didn't fear her, he feared her rejection. And here she was, rejecting him
again. No, she decided, not again. Never again. She wanted to claim him,
for him to claim her, and there was no time like the present.
John was startled when she rolled over to face him, her steely eyes boring
straight into his own. She was close, her face inches from his and her
legs once again entangled with his. Curiosity got the better of him.
"Change of heart, Aeryn?" He asked as casually as he dared.
"Yes, I guess you could say that." She replied. She smiled then with
delight, wrapping one arm about his waist and pulling herself even closer.
"I think it's time I stop running from you. From myself, from my...feelings."
John licked his dry lips and swallowed hard. Oh boy, this was almost too
much. Aeryn rubbed herself against him and let her lips graze his
teasingly. He returned her tentative kiss and began rubbing her back with
light touches. He kissed her then, hungrily, like a starving man might
fall upon a plate of food. She surprised him with her own rising passion
that matched and even exceeded his own. Their hands roamed freely, until
he broke the kiss and whispered softly in her ear.
"Nothing like getting in touch with your feelings." He murmured, his lips
tickling her ear. He nibbled on her earlobe and was rewarded with a low
moan from her. "I am guessing you felt that one." he lowered his mouth
and kissed her neck. She gasped. "That one too." He moved lower still
and pulled the strap of her shirt down to place kisses where his hand had
rested upon awakening. She moaned louder and pulled his mouth up to hers,
plundering him with her tongue. They explored each other then like the
hadn't before, removing clothing with hurried tugs and covering the exposed
flesh with kisses and light touches. They would hurry, and then slow down
to relish their new found delight in each other. They were both hungry for
the touch and the feel of another, for slow caresses and wild, frantic
delight. And they found it in each other on that morning, hidden in a cave
on an unknown planet, being pursued by their enemies and the general
population alike.



Moya was going to lose the baby.
Of that Zhaan was almost certain. They worked frantically, barely
stopping to eat or rest. Vital lines of nutrient flow were ruptured; they
labored endlessly to fix them. Space debris had damaged Moya's hull,
weakening her and thus her baby; they donned E suits and patched them as
well as they could. Systems failed and crashed, were fixed and then
crashed again. They slept in shifts, two sleeping while two worked, and
many times all working with frenzied energy to save their ship, their
lives. And most likely Moya would lose the baby anyway, the strain was
just too much.
Zhaan paused and scrubbed her hand across her weary face as she examined
the readouts on the console in front of her. Environmentals were back on
line, hopefully they would stay that was this time. What did John call
this kind of problem? A domino effect. One system failed and others
followed quickly, until the entire group of systems tumbled endlessly.
Even without the visual that the phrase implied, Zhaan understood him.
D'Argo looked up at her from across command. The strain was telling on
him as well. He cast her a concerned gaze and strode over.
"You look unwell. Go rest for awhile, Zhaan. All is stable at the moment."
"You need rest as well as I do, friend D'Argo." She countered evenly.
"Yes, but I am not falling down with fatigue, as you are. Go, rest. I
promise to call you if I need you."
She demurred then, craving sleep more than she ever had before. With one
last check of the console, she went to her quarters.
Not even bothering to completely undress or to meditate, Zhaan tumbled
into her bed gratefully. In moments, she was asleep.
The dream was cloudy, fuzzed with gray. Alien features of a planet she
had never seen came in fragments, like misplaced puzzle pieces. Some
pictures were clearer than others, some were blurred beyond recognition,
but within moments of beginning this dream, Zhaan knew it for what it was.
It was a Seek dream, a far seeing of someone she knew. Sometimes the seek
dreams were visions of the future, sometimes they were spectors of the
past. But always they had proved to be accurate. Only someone she had
performed Unity with could seek her out in this manner, but who would be
strong enough to do so? And why, after all this time. The only ones she
had performed unity with recently were John and Taleen...
She quaked in terror, knowing now who was seeking her, who needed help.
Of course John didn't know how to seek her, it was his formidable human
mind, both flexible and expansive, that did so instinctively. She had
never encountered a mind as quick to adapt to unity as John's, a mind so
peaceful yet ringed with steel. He was in trouble, but there was no way
for her to help.
The images were frantic now, shot with gray and streaks of fire. She
moaned in dismay, pulse fire, she was seeing pulse fire. John was in
trouble. She caught a glimpse, in one of the clearer images, of Aeryn, and
so knew that she was there also. The feelings from John now came in waves,
engulfing her. Love, despair, anger, and finally, pain. The images
scattered into fragments of fragments, full of screams and shot with agony.
John was injured, and then, the vision broke fully, completely. Zhaan sat
straight up in her bed, the tears of loss flooding her vision.
D'Argo stood by her bed, a worried frown on his face. "Pilot said you
seemed to be in distress, and so I came to see. What is wrong?
She could only bury her tearstained face in D'Argo's chest. He sat down
and held her gently, knowing that something terrible would come of this.
His warrior instincts told him so. Nevertheless, he was unprepared when
she pulled her face away and spoke.
"I think John is dead."




The rain never seemed to stop. Cold sheets of icy water obscured the view
from the cave opening so that all Aeryn could see even with her oculars was
a veil of shifting gray. The cave provided excellent protection for them
in the rain. Not even PeaceKeeper sensors could penetrate the indigenous
rock, and the with the rain all signs of their hiding place disappeared.
For the time being, they were safe.
"Anything moving, Sunshine?" John drawled from behind her.
"Nothing at all." She replied, moving over to make room for him. It was
relatively dry under the brush with the overhanging rock wall above. He
sat close, letting his body press against hers, relishing the warmth. She
smiled and handed the occulars to him. Like her, he saw nothing to speak
of danger. Even so, being outside in daylight was dangerous. One more
good look and they both made their way back inside.
"This rain is enough to drive me insane." She commented as she moved to
the fire and soaked up some much needed warmth. "I take it back, I don't
like rain."
John laughed as he shook the water from his hair. "Too late baby, it's
said and done." He hugged her then, letting his head dip down to capture
the small silver and blue pendant hanging from her neck with his lips. A
small raindrop, his gift for her at Christmas, a human holiday with
possibilities, Aeryn thought. He let it slip out of his mouth and then
kissed her, letting her body mold to his in the heat of the flames. She
sighed and then pushed him reluctantly away.
"You are insatiable John." She teased.
"Of course I am, it's a human trait, we need sex as often as possible or
we curl up and die." He captured her mouth yet again, but she laughingly
pushed him away again.
"We need to decide what we're going to do whenever this rain decides to
quit." She said forcefully. "And if that were true about humans we would
have spaced you a long time ago!" But she gave him a quick kiss to lighten
her rebuke.
"You really know how to spoil a guys fun, ya know." He groused with a smile.
"It's my job. Come on, let's think about our options."
"Options?" He said, sitting down but making her sit in front of him so he
could hold her and tuck her head under his chin. "Let's see, stay here and
be found eventually, leave and be found eventually. Not to many options."
She elbowed him roughly. "Come on, let's be serious. If we can hold out
long enough they may decide we are dead and leave on their own."
John twisted his head around to look at her face. "You've been drinking
your bath water again, Annie Oakley. These are PeaceKeepers, remember?
Your people. They don't quit hunting just because they don't see anything,
they kill everything in sight with the hopes that somehow they'll kill the
ones they're looking for. Meaning us. Meaning the natives here are
probably hunting us just as hard as the Nazis. Meaning we are toast no
matter what we do."
"So what are you saying, John. Quit? Stay here and let them find us?
It's not like you to give up."
"I'm not giving up, I'm just looking at the bare facts. What we need to
do is stay low for as long as we can. If that means staying here for
awhile, that's what we should do. We're more likely to be caught sooner if
we leave than if we stay. A moving target is easier to spot than a
stationary one, especially a stationary one that's under good cover."
"You have a point." She conceded. "But we can only stay here as long as
our food lasts. After that, we have to leave."
"Yeah, I thought of that. If we stay here and hunt for food we're more
likely to be caught. A real catch 22."
Aeryn frowned over that one. "Catch twenty-two what?"
"Umm, it's a human phrase..."
"I gathered that." Dry from Aeryn.
"...that means you're screwed no matter what you do. Kind of damned if
you do, damned if you don't."
"Another human phrase." She commented.
"Well, consider the source." he teased, nuzzling her neck once again.
"One would think," she muttered as she extracted herself from John's
embrace to turn and face him, "that you just want to stay here and let them
find us."
Gray eyes caught blue, held, and saw both joy and sorrow.
"I don't want them to find us at all, Aeryn. I just want to enjoy what
little time we have. We both know that if the PeaceKeepers do find us,
we're dead. If they take us alive, we're worse than dead. If we stay
hidden as long as possible, they will find us later as opposed to sooner."
She contemplated that while watching his face. So earnest, so open. So
unlike anyone she had met previously. How her life had changed since
meeting this human, this primitive being from a planet no one had ever
heard of, a home he would probably never see again. But how well he had
adapted to what the galaxy had dished out to him, how strong he seemed
under adversity. He didn't have to come down here to be with her, he knew
from the outset that they would probably both die here. But here he came
and here he was, and she was most certainly grateful, and even more
important, she was without a doubt in love. Who'd of thought, a
PeaceKeeper commando in love with an alien from a backwater planet. But
there was no one she would rather live with, fight with, and die with than
John Crichton. She reached up to touch his face, her palm tracing a soft
caress from his brow to his chin, relishing the rough stubble that now grew
there.
"Then here we will stay, for as long as we can." She acquiesced.
His hand covered hers even as his mouth pulled her in for a kiss. The
rain came down, the fire burned hot, and they stayed in the cave for many
days.




"Where the frell are we John?" She hissed from the darkness of the alley
behind him. He frowned at the crude map he had made, looking up at
mountains sky lined above in the starlit night for reference points. Then
he said over his shoulder, "It aint Kansas, I can tell you that." All that
got him was a poke in the ribs, so he tried again. "I think we're about
here." He indicated a small dot on the map, a large industrial town near
the coast of the continent they had landed on so long ago. "About half way
down the coast line from the commerce city we landed in."
The last month had been a crash course in learning to live with each
other's differences and quirks. Nearly a year on board Moya hadn't
prepared them for living in the cramped quarters of a cave for weekens
without end, and so they left before they ruined what promised to be a
relationship of epic proportions. Their frequent arguments were usually
solved the old fashioned way, and so remained frequent. After all, making
up was so much fun. But the stress of running from PeaceKeepers and
natives alike kept their nerves on edge. Since leaving the cave, they only
felt safe enough to make love once, and both of them craved solace. If
Aeryn wasn't in a joking mood, John would back off. For now.
"I haven't seen any sign of PeaceKeepers yet." She said quietly. "We
need to find some food and get out of here." Like John, she had a healthy
aversion to staying in a town for any longer than it took them to steal
some food.
"Let's try over here." He gestured to a large open area with a line of
storefronts backing it. "It looks like an open air market, maybe there's
some food we can get to."
Nodding her assent, they made their way stealthily back down the alley and
began the laborious task of circling the huge open square. By the time
they had gained the alley behind the stores, rain had begun to fall again.
All this new discomfort brought from the two was a pair of stifled sighs of
resignation. What was more rain when you were hungry, cold, and strung at
tight as a guy wire?
"Here, let's try this one." She suggested. Using a thin piece of wire
she had acquired along the way, Aeryn began to work on the lock. In a
surprisingly short time she had the door open. They slipped inside like
wraiths.
It was a clothing store, full of sleek garments in various shades of gray.
It seemed to be the predominant color the natives wore, a fact that
rattled uselessly in Johns tired brain. The odds of finding food were
slim, but they looked. A perusal of the employees lounge turned up a few
boxes of some sort of cracker and a round of cheese like food. Not much
but better than eating air.
They had learned to do what they could to not attract attention from their
pilferings. Any obvious break in signs were to be avoided, but in the
event that they were unavoidable, they would try to steal something they
thought the natives might be inclined to steal and then toss it later.
Better for everyone to think that a native was breaking and entering, not
the fugitives. Better to keep the PeaceKeepers as far away as possible.
Having left no calling cards, they quietly closed the door and went on to
another store. After an hour they had burglarized four buildings and
acquired a few pieces of fruit, a loaf of some sort of bread, and wonder of
wonders, a jar of some sort of pickled meat. But dawn was only a few scant
hours away, they needed to be gone before. They scuttled through the
alleys like furtive ghosts, making their way back to the fringes of town
and the relative safety of the mountains.
They almost made it.
Aeryn paused in the mouth of the alley to scan the street ahead of them.
Dark and dreary with rain, the slick black night was beginning to lighten
into a day muffled in gray clouds. In the burgeoning light, Aeryn saw
John's face in profile, softly lit and darkly shadowed both. Despite the
cold and rain, the long trek through the forest and the harrowing trips
into the towns to raid, his face remained calm, like a man at peace instead
of a man on the run for his life. His hair was running to long, his cheeks
were stubbled with new growth, his eyes ringed with fatigue. None of that
seemed to darken his mood. Always when she looked at him, he caught her
look and grinned, as if to say, hey, this sucks, but we're in it together.
We can make it. As she had been over and over on this adventure, she was
in awe. But never would she tell him that, never could she. The shadows
shifted on his face as he turned to her, eyes asking a question. She could
only wonder at the perfectness of his features, even under all the grime
and exhaustion. The curve of his cheek, the line of his jaw, the hungry
gaze in his eyes. All for her. She felt overwhelmed.
"Penny for your thoughts, Sunshine." He murmured.
She shook her head and impulsively drew him into a kiss, surprising him
with her misplaced passion. Never one to turn a lady down, he returned her
kiss with equal ardor.
"What's wrong?" He asked softly.
"I don't know. Nothing, everything." She looked up at him and he was
surprised at the pain in her gaze. "It just feels like we're reaching the
end of something, that's all."
"Rattlers." John said decisively.
"What?" She frowned now, wondering what he was talking about.
"Rattlers, in your stomach." He shook his head. "Whenever I feel like
something bad is going down, the rattlers shake me up. Let's hope yours
are wrong." This last was said grimly, but he softened it with another
kiss. "Let's say we get the hell out of Dodge."
"Whatever you just said, I agree. Let's go." She turned to leave.
And just as suddenly as they turned to go, they were surrounded by
PeaceKeeper commandos, dropping like ungainly spiders from the rooftops,
emerging from the mouth of the alley, pinning them with their pulse rifles.
Galvanized by adrenaline, both fired at will, back to back, fighting for
their lives but most likely to their deaths, for they had sworn not to be
taken alive.
It was all in vain. The commandos had been instructed to take them alive,
and regardless of how many casualties they racked up they followed their
instructions. Accompanying the commandos was a small group of natives,
their squat gray figures an unlikely contrast to the PKs. They too held
guns, and John supposed they were the local police force. All too soon,
both Aeryn and John were taken, unwounded, their guns ripped from their
hands. Forced to their knees before their enemies, they fought still,
preferring death to their fate at the hands of Crais and his minions.
But the surprise was on the PeaceKeepers when suddenly the natives, joined
by countless others of their kind, opened fire upon the PeaceKeepers,
taking them by surprise. Not one to lose the advantage when she saw it
Aeryn savagely elbowed her closest assailant and made a grab for his gun.
Upon achieving her objective, she sprayed fire all about her, dropping Pks
in her wake. John too had acquired a pulse rifle and was backing her way,
careful not to shoot any of their erstwhile allies, the natives. Back to
back, they began to make their way towards them, hoping for protection at
the least, firing nonstop at the Pks before them.
"Jesus! They're like roaches, you just can't kill em all!" John
sputtered angrily as he raked his pulse rifle across the line of
PeaceKeepers once again. Aeryn could only agree silently as they ducked
behind the dubious cover of a row of garbage canisters.
The natives stood their ground in the mouth of the alley, silently
shooting the PeaceKeepers like ducks in a shooting gallery. Aeryn had to
admire their tenacity, but she and John were still trapped. They couldn't
quite get to their new allies and there were still too many Pks for them to
try and make a run for it. They settled for potshots around the canisters
and the scant cover they provided.
The PeaceKeepers made a sudden decision and began a suicide advance,
coming forward with pulse rifles blazing death. Knowing they were in the
path of this killer advance, John and Aeryn cast one last hopeful glance at
the natives and began to fire. John had one final thought, 'how in the
hell did a bona fide American Hero like me get in this kind of shitty
mess?' before the assault was on them.
He never felt the fire of the shot that hit him, only the kick. Deep,
deep in his belly like an angry mule had made first contact with his
backbone. Then the pain and the numb hit, and he fell over. The rest of
the assault was past him, beyond his knowing or caring. Where was Aeryn?
Where was he? Was he dead, was this where he was destined to end up,
dying in a scummy alley on a no name planet in a pile of garbage? Somehow,
he had always envisioned more for himself. In his agony, he cried out.
"Aeryn!" It was weak, a pitiful shadow of his voice, but she heard him.
From the mouth of the alley where the Natives were making a last attempt to
stop the PK advance, Aeryn turned back, suddenly terrified of what she
would find.
And then she was kneeling by him, her hands stroking his face, pulling his
head into her lap, pulling charred clothing aside to see his wound. Her
voice was soothing, comforting, but the fire in his belly raged, and he
screamed again and again. She held him, all she could do, until the
silence before her and behind her and a firm voice pulled her away.
"Stand up, traitor." came the icy command.
She looked down at John, his face pale with more than the dawn. His eyes,
normally so blue they startled, were rolled back in his head. He was no
longer screaming, in fact, he lay limp in her arms, dead weight. She
shuddered with pain. No, no, he wasn't dead. She lowered her face to his,
tears falling like rain, warm bitter rain. She ignored the second command
to stand, choosing to hold him close and pray to die with him. She chose
death over life, if it was life without John.
A pair of viselike hands grabbed her around the arms and lifted her
cruelly, yanking her away from John's prone body. She was held in a
vicious grip, arms twisted painfully behind her, back arched and head
pulled back. She felt nothing, only the pain of loss. Nothing they did to
her would have any affect, she was dead already. The Lieutenant in charge
stood facing her, and she was shocked from her grief to realize she knew
him, he was one of her own men.
"Officer Sun, you shame yourself and your race. You disgust me." he cast
a glance back at John, being examined by another PK officer. "He's alien,
and primitive at that. I am ashamed to have ever served under you." He
spat in her face for emphasis.
Aeryn ignored the spittle on her cheek, nothing could touch her now.
Instead, she bored her eyes into her ex officer's, her ex comrade's, and
spoke in a low, level tone.
"He is more of a man than you will ever be capable of Rollv, in all ways."
She stared stonily at him. "I prefer to die at his side than to live as a
PeaceKeeper ever again."
"Pity you'll never get your wish." He said smoothly, knowing full well
that Crais had something more permanent in mind than death for Aeryn Sun.
He turned to the officer examining John. "Well?"
"Dead, sir." the man said simply, giving John's ribs a kick as he
shrugged his shoulders. "Captain Crais will be upset to lose his prize."
Aeryn felt her world drop from beneath her. Dead, dead, John was dead.
The words rolled in her overtaxed mind like a wild tide, overwhelming her,
drowning her. He left the relative safety of Moya to fight with her, to
die with her. And die he did, but she lived on. How could she? All her
honor screamed alongside her grief for retribution, revenge. She wanted to
die, she wanted to kill. She wanted John, alive, by her side, making love
to her in a hundred different ways. She wanted to go to Earth with him, to
start a life and a family with him. She wanted all the things she had
feared and now could never attain. She simply wanted, and couldn't have.
She wailed with grief, but inside where none could hear. Never would she
give them the satisfaction of seeing her mourn openly.
"All right then, let's move out." He commanded. He gestured to a handful
of Natives, the few remaining, and the guards surrounding them. "Make them
cart off the dead. And make sure you bring Crichton with you, Crais will
want verification. When they're done, kill them all." With that he turned
back to his captive, suddenly quiet since the declaration of the Human's
death. Locked and bound in irons, Aeryn Sun posed no threat. He grinned,
remembering how she had rebuffed his advances when they had been in the
same platoon together many cycles ago. Well, now he would have what he
wanted, his way. He was going to enjoy this.
In the alley, in the rain, in the cold gray dawn, the natives began to
pile up corpses. PeaceKeepers here to be hauled up to the ship for
identification and proper burial, natives here to be burned where they lay.
Burn the town too, for good measure. The gray natives, who called
themselves the Many, cast sidelong glances at their captives. On the
rooftops above, they saw more of their own waiting patiently. Many, many
more. Soon, very soon, they would make their move again. Soon, soon.
Many would die, but that was the role of the many. The PeaceKeeper
fugitive would be a good ally, one who could help them shake off the yoke
of oppression now being imparted on them. Angered at the death of her
mate, she would make a good leader for the Many. As for her mate...
The human man lay amid the garbage, blood clotting in a pool beneath him.
He was most certainly dead, but the Many knew ways of coaxing life back
into the newly dead, provided they were caught in time. What a formidable
team they would make, leading the Many on their quest for independence.
The Many were nothing if not patient, but time was essential here. They
must move soon.
Soon.




(OK, no hate mail, please!!! I TOLD you I was evil! What good's a serial
if it doesn't end with a cliff hanger? Leave 'em wanting more is the
writer's creed. SB)