Alas, Poor Crichton
By AkaiHato
Quick Intro
So why, exactly, is a story with a title like, "Alas, Poor Crichton" being foremost archived at the SACC, of all places possible? Mainly, the ironies were too good to be true.
But without any further ado...
"Cr-rrIGHTON!"
"Gyah!"
"Yaugh! You almost hit me with that cracker!"
"You almost made me choke!"
Apparently deciding that retrieving the pitched cracker was too annoying, Crichton picked up another cracker, then twisted around in his seat to resume the conversation with Chiana- this time, face to face.
Chiana was grinning, as she arose from behind him. "But that's not the fruit of why I came here..."
"Good gods, why the Hezmana would we need your advise?" replied Rygel in a distracted mutter, while haphazardly shifting through a large pile of various trinkets on a table.
"Nonsense, now that you've come, you can help me convince Rygel that this is an glass imitation Cofo Crystle and nothing more," declared Aeryn, fishing up the object of debate from a separate smaller pile.
Crichton looked at Chiana suspiciously. Chiana cocked her head, and shrugging slightly, replied, "I never said they actually called for your advise. But, watching them, they could benefit from any advise you have."
"Hah, you and your glass crystals, next you'll be telling me that goblet of yours is made of ash-silver and belonged to-"
"Are all Hynerians as color-blind as you? That *is* the color of-"
"With Sebaceans, it's isn't just color-blindness, is it-"
"...Why don't you just run some tests on them?" offered Crichton.
"As I have *been* telling this Peacekeeper/Hynerian for the past-" began Aeryn and Rygel simultaneously. They turned to each other.
"Don't blame me when your glass Cofo Crystal melts and we have even less to bargain with."
"You take responsibility when that goblet discolors and permanently discourages trade."
While Rygel and Aeryn quickly explained to Zhaan their situation, Pilot informed them they were nearly at the Commoner's Planet.
As Zhaan complied with requests and reached to obtain various chemicals and substances, Moya suddenly, well, jumped.
"Jumped" was the closest term possible for the sudden and erratic movement of Moya, and it could also be termed for the way several medium-sized open cylinders containing some sort of liquid fell off a shelf and barely missed Crichton, smashing into Moya's wall behind him.
Where the liquid hit, there was a low sizzling sound, and vapors reeking of rotten eggs, in addition to a whiff of overcooked cabbage, arose.
"Where did those come from! I never remember shelving open containers of such-" began Zhaan furiously, only to be interrupted by Rygel's yell of surprise.
Rygel's throne suddenly jerked, then dangerously swerved towards Crichton. It was fairly obvious Rygel had no control over it either, being that he was nearly falling off.
As Rygel hung on for dear life and tried to punch something at his controls at the same time, Crichton scrambled out of the way. At the same time, so did Aeryn, and the two of them didn't exactly collide, but they did tangle a little bit.
Rygel cursed something, as his renegade throne made a shearing turn and came zooming back. Crichton vaulted to one side out the entrance way, Aeryn to the other. In the midst of this confusion, Aeryn's Pulse Rifel somehow came loose and hit the floor with a crash.
As it clouted the floor, the Pulse Rifle suddenly, and very conveniently, fired several shots at Crichton. The scarlet shots missed- but barely, as Crichton danced around trying to regain his balance, take in everything that was going on, and avoid several DRD's which had come wrrring out of a vent and were now beeping and meeping up a storm as they madly raced around Crichton's feet. In fact, if it weren't so dire a situation, it would have funny to watch.
By now, there had been quite a few cries and yells, and it was enough to attract D'Argo's attention.
D'Argo came roaring around the corner full speed, blade unsheathed. Unfortunately, Crichton hadn't realized the part about blade being unsheathed, and he was still trying to dance his way out of the twirling DRD's. As a result, when Crichton spun around, D'Argo's Qualta Blade was nearly driven into his gut, stopping barely to the point of lightly touching Crichton's mid torso. After a moment of silence, a burst of babbling ensued.
"I repeat, my connection with Moya is still no excuse for letting the DRD's romp around like that-"
"By the Goddess, I swear I didn't store those chemicals in such a haphazard-"
"I have never even *heard* of a Pulse Rifle pulling such a stunt like that before, they're just not made like that-"
"Likewise of my throne- well, not on Moya, anyway-"
As Pilot readied the transport pod, Aeryn, Zhaan, D'Argo, Chiana, and Rygel continued to voice their various reactions and apologies and whatnot to Crichton, swarming him as he boarded the pod.
"And as I mentioned before, I don't know how, with my training and reaction time, I could handled my blade like that-"
"Uh, sorry about nearly choking you-"
"Yeah, yeah, I get the message, thank you, now if you don't mind, I'm going to-" began Crichton, jerking something on the controls.
Guh-gh-g-ggg-VVVvvwwWWWOOOSH!
"Aah!"
SKEE! EeeEEEK!
"Yeaugh!"
"Ok, that was YOUR fault, Crichton!"
"Frell, no wonder you got stuck in the Flax!"
"Gimmie a break, I've been all but killed and maimed several times today, I just need to get back into my shtick again."
"....Into your what?"
"Crichton... did you just say..."
"...How exactly did the microbe translators translate that?"
"Wait a microt..." began Rygel, swinging his throne around to get a better view of the inside of the shuttle. "What are *all* of us doing in here?"
Indeed, as Rygel continued to note, there was, in addition to himself, the full fiasco of Aeryn, Crichton, D'Argo, Zhaan, and even Chiana, aboard the transport shuttle. "Now, I'm needed because of my bartering skills- and maybe I'll need a bodyguard -but other then that, what exactly are the rest of you doing aboard Moya's transport pod?"
Although snide, Rygel did have a point. Everyone looked at each other. Chiana shrugged it off with, "All right, so we were caught up in the heat of the moment."
"Is this thing even designed to hold so many people?" muttered Crichton ominously.
This time, Aeryn shrugged the statement off by ignoring it and proclaiming, "Well, Rygel can barter, Zhaan can stock up on medical supplies and herbs, D'Argo and I can keep an eye on everyone, and Crichton can... um... Well anyway, it's about time we all took a rest planetside and buy up whatever we need. And Chiana can stay out of trouble."
As the pod members, and a reluctant Chiana, accepted Aeryn's affirmation with nods and gestures, Crichton asked, "Which reminds me. Aeryn, Rygel, what did you figure out about the crystal and cup thing?"
Aeryn and Rygel suddenly looked flustered. Aeryn glanced at Rygel from the corner of her eye, so Rygel, taking a deep breath and rising back haughtily, stated, "Well, the residents of the bartering grounds don't *need* to know they're fake."
"It is a first, you have to admit," commented D'Argo mildly, as he watched Aeryn fiddle with the controls and Chiana and Crichton inspect the doors.
"With Crichton's dramatic exit out of Moya, abnormality would be applied if the pod *wasn't* damaged in someway," griped Aeryn, giving the controls for opening the doors a final wack of frustration.
Giving up in the doors and instead moving over to the controls, Crichton offered to have a shot at them.
As Crichton passed her by, Aeryn continued with, "Though why the damage ends up with the doors is beyond me..."
Aeryn trailed off, as she abruptly grabbed Crichton's arm.
Crichton gave a puzzled glance at Aeryn's hand gripping his arm, then at Aeryn. Aeryn herself seemed rather baffled to why she had grasped his arm.
A moment later, the controls to the door blew up in a shower of sparks and wires, dying down in a series of popping and zapping noises.
In the silence that followed, the doors to the shuttle opened with a low hiss.
Crichton muttered something like, "Could'a been electrocuted..." then sort of swung himself out of the pod in a dazed manner.
Some while ago, the various traders and travelers meandering around the docking grounds had begun to pause and idly gather some distance from the biomechanoid shuttle. When the hangar door had opened, a low murmur of surprise had swayed through the congregation.
When Crichton came out and took a few steps towards the ground, he was abruptly met with the sight of a large audience, who, as if on cue, emitted a few exclamations and cries as they backed up in a ripple of movement sweeping through the crowds.
Crichton blinked, feeling somewhat offended.
Suddenly, the crowd burst into a chaotic mix of movement and noise, and it took a moment for Crichton to realize that a) the crowd was frantically gesturing upwards, b) some of the noise was an odd cracking and snapping sound whose source came from above, and c) the rest of the noise was the crowd yelling at him to-
"RUN!"
And he did just that. It took all the self-control Crichton had to not look up, but instead surge to the side with every muscle he had (and a few he didn't realize he had).
A large, plasti-board crate came tumbling down beside him with a mammoth crash, its contents exploding everywhere.
It took another bit of self-control Crichton had not to gape at this near miss.
"What... Crichton, is some out to get you?" cried Chiana.
Suddenly, the crowd parted as a clawed, crazed, and (of course) large creature whose appearance resembled that of a large reptile on hind legs, looking like a runner-bird, came bounding of the crowd and straight at Crichton's throat.
Crichton yelled, not that anyone could blame him, but before he could react and before the Kyolu's rather shar- looking teeth could connect with Crichton's jugular region, a piercing shrill sliced the air followed by an angry and worried cry of what sounded like, "MRAR!"
A female dressed in a rustic outfit of earthy brown, bronze, and a glint of gold came storming furiously out of the crowd and ran the last few paces to Crichton's side.
"Mur'ar! How dare you! I'm sorry sir, Kyolu, much less my Mur'ar, never act that way, really I don't know what got into him."
The Kyolu, meanwhile, blinked, looked hurt at his owner's words, and then seem to notice Crichton for the first time.
The female looked nettled. "Don't give me that look, apologize to the man whose throat you nearly tore out."
Though appearing slightly doubtful of the situation, the Kyolu turned to the person of object, then, holding out both front claws in a peaceful gesture, bowed towards Crichton.
Crichton would have like to dismiss the entire surrealistic situation, but the cargo shifters came down from above to apologize too, as well as retrieve the mishandled load, and then several curious onlookers threatened to swamp Crichton and co. even more then they already were.
Crichton ran a hand through his hair, thought for a moment, then dashed into the crowd, burst through and quickly mingled into the mainstream of residents.
He was quickly joined by a Aeryn who muttered in a none-too-pleased tone, "Just once I'd like to stop by a planet without attracting unnecessary attention..."
Soon, Rygel came lazily floating over the crowd to descend to Crichton and Aeryn's level. After making some snide comment or another about Crichton's method of dealing with large audiences, Rygel began to give an update of what was going on back at the shuttle.
Unfortunately, he was immediately distracted by a nearby vendor stand selling ornaments, tools, and other novelties. "And as for D'Argo... Ooh! I say, what *is* that fascinating little trinket there..." So with this parting say, Rygel sped away in the middle of his explanation.
Aeryn and Crichton immediately went after him, yelling objections. "Rygel! Come back here and tell us the rest you little-" began Aeryn, then broke off as a nearby vendor also caught her eye. "....Is that an authentic Sebacean trigger-blade? Frell, I haven't seen one in ages..." With this justification, Aeryn, too, wandered off to a nearby vendor stand.
Crichton decided that, despite their words, both Aeryn and Rygel seemed to be having fun. That done, he went off to badger Rygel for information.
Unfortunately, the various little trinkets that had captivated Rygel really *were* quite interesting, and Crichton found himself completely sidetracked by an array of seemingly common items like rings, cups, and ornaments, all which contained hidden weapons or were potentially lethal in some other way.
It was when Crichton reached for a slightly off-set pen-like object, that the shop owner suddenly reacted, sharply telling Crichton not to touch it. Fetching a large piece of cloth and a push-stick, the owner carefully put the apparent writing-utensil away while explaining his need for concern.
" 'Iz ink-stick 'ere, looks normal, but ezt covered en sharp, sharp, leetle leethal poisonous spikes. Touch ee wrong way, much less grip, mi friend, an' you got ouchy, swelling fingas, ef not daid ones. Feh, I put dis back en proper case, donno 'ow et got owt 'ere, mi apologies."
The shop owner added, "Ez not fer sale, I 'ave client who gettin' et later, but rest ez," and gesturing to the rest of his goods, to which Rygel immediately responded to and began asking him about a ring.
Crichton, however, slipped away, despite the shopkeeper's protest that all such lethal or rare items were safely kept away in the back of the shop. Crichton decided to try and find the weapons shop where Aeryn had gone to, while scanned the crowd for any familiar faces of his crew. Wondering wether it was worth it to go back and harass Rygel for information, he spotted Aeryn near the weapons vendor. Crichton had managed to get her attention, when something chord-like fell around his neck, not unlike a large necklace.
Crichton lifted the thing, and ducked out of in. Puzzled, he about to take a look at it, when it was whipped away from his hand. It was the reins to a ground-transport animal, one which was now strutting off at a face pace, its owner running after it and trying to get hold of it.
Aeryn, coming over to Crichton, had a look of disbelief on her face not much different then that of Crichton's. "You were just standing there, and that rein nearly choked... How did that happen? Just how exactly did that happen?"
Crichton shook his head and held up a hand in a sort of surrendering exasperation. "I don't know! It's beyond the normal quota of how many times I get nearly killed per week, much less per day. The next thing you know, a bomb or something'll fall on me."
A moment later, a crude grenade came sailing down from absolutely nowhere and fell by Crichton's feet.
"What- Aagh!" cried Crichton in a tone more annoyed then scared, as he glanced down.
"Move! MOVE!" shouted Aeryn frantically, grabbing him.
"Whut's gowin awn- BOMB!" shouted someone in the crowd. The last word sparked panic in the passer byers, and as everyone scrambled away, the crass grenade exploded with a colossal bang.
After a momentary shocked stillness, speech and movement returned to the crowd, as individuals either continued walking, moved to investigate the explosion, or stood around and exchanged talk. Several people, apparently having been at the scene of the earlier cargo crash incident, noticed Crichton.
They began jabbering something excitedly, pointing to him, to the site of the explosion, and occasionally gesturing back towards the docking grounds. Seeing yet more complications ahead, Crichton cursed under his breath, and, still keeping a watch on the potential complicators, ducked into a nearby alley.
Crichton was about to take another step, when he felt a faint breeze float up from *under* him, which didn't make any sense. Not that much had, for the past year or so of his life. But anyway, it was enough to divert his attention from the potential complicators to where exactly he was going.
In fact, the potential complicators were completely forgotten, when Crichton realized he was about to step into a (not surprisingly) large, looming, very perpendicular and perchance bottomless ... hole in the ground. It was enough to make a jarred Crichton, perhaps if not to fall straight into the hole after all, at least lose his balance.
Happily, the walls of the alley were close enough so that Crichton manage to shove his arms and hands out against them, catching and halting himself from completely tumbling into the very big and menacing hole in the ground. Unhappily, Crichton ended up in a position where he couldn't do much else.
"Um... Aeryn?" Aeryn whisked her head around, wondering where exactly Crichton's slightly panicked voice was arising from. "Could you... give me a hand?"
D'Argo and Chiana, having decided that the explosion was somehow connected to Crichton, came tromping through the crowds. They appeared just in time to notice Aeryn duck into an alleyway, hear her cry out, "What the...!" and watch her back out again. By now, another group of curious passerbyers had begun to congregate.
Aeryn paused, put the tip of a hand to her temples, and stated, "...Right. I'll ask later. But I need some- D'Argo! Chiana! Could you... give me a hand?"
"....D'Argo, Chiana? Let me rephrase. I think it's funny too, but my arm muscles don't. In fact, nor do my shoulders, my feet, and the rest of my body, including my brain."
"Er, um, of course. Chiana, make sure his feet don't slip or anything, Aeryn, grab his torso, I'll help you pull him up."
"Aeryn, if your hesitating, I don't mind trading places with you- Ha, thought you'd say otherwise."
"Hm. Crichton, how many times must I save your life today? And stop attracting so much unnecessary attention!"
The nearby deadly-trinket shopkeeper glanced at the source of the fuss, and scratched his head. "...Since when 'as 'ere been sucha big arse 'ole dair?"
When the operation was finally complete, Aeryn, contrary to her former words, appeared considerably distressed after all. "The only thing that *hasn't* befallen Crichton is...is..." she began. Crichton, who was behind Aeryn as she spoke, begin to acquire a disturbed expressed, and looked like he was about to frantically gesture something as Aeryn continued to rant. " ...Is for him to be pulled in by quick sand-"
"No! Don't!" cried Crichton, then seconds later, "Yaugh! Oh, Dren!"
As Aeryn, Chiana, and D'Argo turned around in astonishment, Crichton began hurriedly stepping and jumping back to avoid being engulfed by a large ominous puddle of sand and water, which had somehow formed under, and only under, Crichton.
By now, of course, an even larger group of curious passerbyers had begun to form.
Crichton staggered over to some crates on the side of the road, and sat down in disbelief.
As he sank down, an ax came whizzing by and slammed into the wall above his head.
Crichton slowly looked up, studied the ax for a few seconds, then, mindless he was knocking the crates over, scrambled up and ran like the wind.
As he did so, several fireballs came flaming after him from the sky, all but singing him as they struck the ground.
Since a number of people had retreated into shops and alleyways, Rygel was finally able to poke his head up and investigate to what was going on. As he did so, Crichton came rushing by him, yelling, "Why me? Why me?" He was followed by a large fireball, which hit the ground in a burst of flames.
Rygel blinked, as another fireball went hurling after Crichton.
Abruptly, 3 fireballs which were heading for Crichton suddenly exploded above head in a shower of flames, and even those were quickly stifled. Crichton slowed down and ceased running, wary of what was going to be thrown at him next.
Suddenly there was a red glow, followed by a flash of silver light behind Crichton. Crichton spun around to find that a figure fantastically clothed in scarlet, ruby, and fiery colors with a rich red cape had materialized.
Although Crichton wasn't sure how to react, the figure didn't hesitate to raise a hand and make an odd flicking motion.
Crichton, also without hesitating, immediately dodged to the side, and a streak of crimson light flew from the figures's hand, through the spot where Crichton had been, and hit the wall nearby. The wall wasn't immediately vaporized or melted or anything, but it... didn't look very pretty. Crichton decided that the only reason why he didn't have his midriff, or some other part of his anatomy, in the same state, was because by now he was relatively used to random strangers, animals, and occasionally inanimate objects trying to kill him for no particular reason.
As the red-clad figure raised his hand for another shot, there was another glow of light, this time green, followed by the flash of silver light.
This time, a figure fantastically clothed in meadow green, emerald, and shades of forest with a rich green cape had materialized.
The red figure jolted, but continued gesturing. The green-clad figure pushed forward a hand in a stopping motion; an emerald streak of light bolted from the green figure's hand.
The green streak slammed against the released red streak, and both streaks disintegrated in a clash of white light. The red figure looked enraged, but the green figure appeared pleased.
Meanwhile, Crichton, who, seeing another funky-clothed being appear behind him, had been thinking he was doomed.
However, seeing that the green figure had intercepted the red figure's light-thing with a green light-thing, the possibility of the green figure being an ally . . . didn't really occur to Crichton. Rather, Crichton had decided the green figure had probably, oh, just aimed badly and missed him or something. At least, until the two figures began yelling at each other.
"That's it, Sah'kk!" bellowed the red figure. "Quit interfering with--"
"Last time, Ouseebie!" roared the green figure. "If you try to kill Crichton once more--"
"Um-" began Crichton, not sure what his position was.
"Do you know how long it's been since Crichton's actually gotten injured? Much less killed?"
"And I plan to keep it that way!"
Crichton, looking annoyed, waved his hand at the two beings. "Do I have a say in this?"
"NO!"
Meanwhile, the rest of the crew of Moya had somehow gotten together amidst the chaos and confusion. Actually, it wasn't too hard, since by then anyone with common sense had taken cover, rather then following the trail of dying flames left by Crichton and his fireballs. Which was exactly what the crew of Moya was doing.
Although Aeryn, Rygel, D'Argo, Chiana, and even Zhaan had, one way or another, gotten a glimpse of Crichton madly running away from bombarding fireballs, none of them knew what to think of it. Worried about Crichton, of course, but also immensely curious about the situation itself, they came upon the person of object just as the nearby red and green figures had begun hollering at each other.
Now, the two figures seemed to have forgotten about Crichton entirely, didn't appear to notice the appearance of Zhaan and co., and didn't seem to care about the residents of the nearby apartments and cottages who were peering out curiously, if cautiously, from windows and doors.
"Every time I work something up, you have to pull a few strings so that Crichton escapes harm!"
"You bet yer glumax! And I had to do more then pull a few strings, when you got more and more desperate and started throwing him into those insane situations!"
"Insane? Just how are they insane? And how is Crichton supposed to keep up a reputation with you keeping him nice and safe?"
"How is he going to keep a reputation *at all* with you?"
"At least I keep things interesting! Let this be a warning, Sah'kk, I will not give up!"
"Neither will I, Ouseebie, neither will I!"
With this, both disappeared dramatically with a flash of silver light, leaving behind faint glows of green and red which disappeared shortly.
"....What the Hezmana was THAT all about?" stated Rygel, breaking the silence.
"We may have been the witnesses to the movement of forces greater then our realm of power," murmured Zhaan.
Crichton, personally, wasn't so sure about that.
By then, not surprisingly, possibly the entire bartering ground's population started poking their heads out from nearby windows, doors, rooftops, and alley ways.
Aeryn looked at Crichton in an annoyed manner. "Didn't I tell you to avoid unnecessary attention?"
Then, in a moment of complete character breakage, she hugged him.
The End
Epilogue
Rather then dealing with the complications of staying for a week where rumors and reputations of themselves had apparently spread over the entire bartering grounds, if not the planet, where walking down the streets meant either people clearing the way in awe, or running up to you, or just running away, the crew of Moya left in a few days.
Actually, the crew of Moya did get some wonderful bargains, especially when Crichton went along.
Fearing PK and other enemies would benefit knowledge of them if they ever chanced upon the planet, the crew of Moya had a brief debate on what to do. In the end, nothing in particular was done, since they figured even more questions and stories would spring up, if they tried telling the residents to be quiet about them.
It may have not been the most typical of planetside stops, but everyone agreed it was.... interesting, loosely termed. And though they realized Crichton's unusual string of near-misses was linked to the red and green-clad beings, no one ever did figure what it was all about.
Afterword
Ho, did the ending make you either laugh, groan, or what? Anyway, as you may have figured out, the dear old SACC and IGDET squad, though they are so intent on protecting Crichton that they have been known to hug him to death, was the inspiration to this little fic. Though I think it was a Bboard post involving the roles of the SACC, as well Obligatory Crichton Bashing (OCB), which really set the cornerstones. (Hint hint) Anyway, all that added with the actual story content and all, I have (pretty much) dedicated the story to them.