MATCHMAKER
By: Jigs & Officer Don
Feedback: Any and all comments welcome. Email: jigsaw4@a...
or marks@c...
Archiving: Please e-mail us first
Rating: PG-13
Category: Action/adventure
Warnings: Possible references to scenes from the
Premiere through 'The Ugly Truth'
Summary: John and D'Argo run into an old friend on a
supply run.
Disclaimer: Regrettably we have no claim to Farscape;
we're just borrowing the characters for the SACC
FanFiction Challenge 2000.
Nighttime did little to improve the hospitality of
Bacca-Prime, either in the demeanor of the inhabitants or
the climate. The mammoth sun produced insufferable
heat during the day so the market was only open between
dusk and dawn. Even then, the temperature was too
intense for Sebaceans. It looked a lot like Dam-Ba-Da, or
Tatooine, John Crichton thought, either way this
God-forsaken place was too hot for Aeryn Sun.
That anyone would inhabit this tiny planet defied
explanation, which led John to believe that anyone here
was probably hiding from legitimate authority, and
probably had very good reasons for doing so. As far as
he'd been able to determine there was no recognizable
law enforcement in what was apparently the only urban
area on this world. It could hardly be called a city; it
reminded John of the barbarous towns in the old west of
American history. The biggest gun ruled the town, which
was actually a way station for every criminal element in
the territories.
In fact, that's probably why the outlaws of the Uncharted
Territories thought it a safe haven. The heat alone would
keep the mercenary Peacekeepers from establishing a
presence here, which meant no constabulary interference
to disrupt nefarious activities or uncover sinister plots.
On this particular night, however, one of the elite of the
Peacekeeper Special Directorate had infiltrated their den
of iniquity.
The Sak'kra Empire sent a small, clandestine
compliment of advance troops to Bacca-Prime two
weekens ago, led by Lord Jesliac. Their purpose was to
either locate or secure information on the whereabouts of
five data crystals that were stolen from one of their
couriers. It was a very important mission if the Empire
was to have its revenge for the annihilating defeat it
suffered hundreds of cycles ago in the Sak'kra War.
The precious data crystals detailed the first phase of their
plans for retaliation.
Rumors of the Sak'kra's resurgence were whispered
throughout the surrounding systems. Although the major
space-faring races rarely ventured into the Uncharted
Territories or maintained outposts here, they still had
agents strategically placed to keep tabs on the activities.
The Tellez, notorious for rooting out information, which
they in turn sold to the highest bidder, arrived on
Bacca-Prime two solar days ago. A consortium of several
smaller worlds hired them to find out why the Sak'kra
Empire was reasserting their presence in the Uncharted
Territories. It was a risky alliance, but the lesser worlds
would be most vulnerable to attack by the Sak'kras,
and concluded they had no other choice than to deal with
the Tellez.
Although they had not been able to completely decipher
the data on the crystals, the Tellez knew the information
belonged to the Sak'kra Empire and that made it
extremely valuable. Considering the significance of this
information, the Tellez were looking for a buyer that
would pay their price.
After loading up the few supplies they were able to find,
John and D'Argo sauntered into the local pub looking for
something cool to drink. It was dark and smoky inside
with clusters of patrons huddled in whispered
conversations at the tables scattered around the small
room. The place would have been called a dive on Earth
John thought as he and D'Argo plopped down on stools
at the bar.
"Let's grab something cold and get the hell out of here,"
John suggested in a hushed voice. "No friendly types in
these parts, if you know what I mean, pilgrim," he
drawled in his best John Wayne impersonation.
"More human nonsense…there is no end to it!" D'Argo
muttered to himself, then looked over at John. "I agree. I
think trouble could find a priest in this wretched place."
The barkeeper was a humanoid male, as best as John
could tell, tall and lanky with golden skin. His baldhead
was at least twice the size it should have been for the rest
of him. A bone ridge circled his head, bisecting it from
the back of his collar to his shirtfront. He was in deep
conversation with another of his species at the end of the
bar and didn't seem to notice the two strangers that just
sat down. John whistled and the barkeeper finally looked
up, acknowledging them with a toss of his head.
"Name your poison," he said walking over and casting a
glance at D'Argo. "Luxan, right? Don't get too many
Luxans in here."
D'Argo grunted, rolled his eyes and turned to survey the
bar again.
"We just want to quench our thirst with a cold drink and
we'll be on our way," John offered, eyeing the man
curiously, his blue eyes studying the man's unique face.
"Can do," the barman replied as he set two glasses in
front of them.
"How long have you been here on Bacca-Prime?" John
asked inquisitively. He'd never seen this species before
and thought he'd make a little conversation to pass the
time.
"I'm Trilok. My family has owned this establishment for
20 cycles. That's my twin brother, Hiselk," he said
pointing to the man with whom he had been speaking.
"Trilok, I'm Cri…Butch." It suddenly occurred to John
that leaving his name on this barren world might not be
the best move considering the clientele.
"Cributch. That's an odd name."
John laughed but made no effort to correct him. Trilok
served what appeared to be the UT equivalent of a soft
drink. The frothy, lime-green concoction smelled awful,
but it didn't taste too bad and it was cold. John figured he
was better off not knowing what it was; he had
discovered after nearly two cycles in the Uncharted
Territories that the old adage was usually true: ignorance
was bliss, especially when it came to food and drink.
Trilok eyed John with interest, "you are not a Sebacean,"
he stated flatly.
John smiled, "no, too hot for them here."
"But you wear the clothes of a Peacekeeper," he noted,
still trying to identify John's origins.
"Let's just say he didn't need them anymore," John
offered as an enigmatic explanation, hoping to soothe the
man's curiosity without actually revealing any details.
"Good, I like people who kill Peacekeepers," Trilok said
with a wry smile.
D'Argo sipped the cool, fizzy liquid, wondering why
Crichton felt it necessary to engage this stranger in polite
conversation. He just wanted to finish his drink and get
the Hezmana back to Moya. Something about this place
made his tentacles twitch.
The discussion taking place at the table nearest the bar
caught D'Argo's attention. Three hairy looking beasts
were gesturing wildly to each other as another biped,
shrouded from head to toe in drab-colored, rough-hewn
cloth sat quietly watching, listening intently.
Trilok noticed D'Argo's interest in the foursome and
explained, "they've been talking for the last half arn. Well
those three Tellez have been doing most of the talking.
Don't know who the other one is, but I wouldn't waste
my time with them if I were her."
"Why is that?" John asked suddenly curious about the
Tellez. They were among the oddest critters he'd ever
seen.
Covered in bright orange fur with fleshy, tan cheeks and
slanted eyes. They were bare from the waist up wearing
black pants tucked into the tops of their boots and
holsters slug low across their hips. Each wore bands of
tiny knives crisscrossing their ample chests. To John they
looked like orangutans dressed up like Mexican banditos.
He couldn't help but smile at the image.
"The Tellez are scoundrels of the first order, information
brokers. Good natured sorts, but they can't be trusted.
Rumor is they will do whatever they have to get
information that someone is willing to pay for," Trilok
explained.
John nodded, "and the other one?"
"Don't recognize that one, like I said," Trilok answered,
wiping the bar with a damp rag as he headed back to
finish the conversation with his brother.
Unbeknownst to John, he actually knew the other person
at the table, dressed in filthy rags with a grimy scarf
wrapped around her head like an Arab abayah, she was
hardly recognizable as the beautiful woman she was.
Jenavian Chatto sat confidently amidst the Tellez. At first
it was easy convincing the unsuspecting outlaws that she
wasn't a Peacekeeper since they counted on the fact that
it was too hot on this desert planet for Sebaceans. But the
determination of Peacekeeper High Command knew no
bounds; they were not about to let a little heat interfere
with their plans to obtain the information they desired.
It was fortuitous for her current mission that the med
techs of the Special Directorate had recently developed a
top-secret serum that enabled Sebaceans to withstand
extreme heat for short periods of time. It wasn't generally
known that such a drug existed or was powerful enough
to prevent the dreaded Living Death inducing heat
delirium. It wouldn't do for your enemies to know all
your secrets, now would it? The only drawback - it had to
be administered at regular intervals. Jena was half an arn
past due for her next dose and she was beginning to feel
the effects. It was a mistake Jenavian Chatto would soon
regret.
D’Argo could overhear only part of the conversation as
their voices raised excitedly. The potential buyer,
obviously female he thought, seemed most interested in
what the leader had to say.
"You think that a Plokavian weapons deal is what these
crystals are about?" He smiled derisively, "I must admit
that's what we thought at first…. But I don't think that
would be of concern to the other buyers who have
expressed an interest in them."
She was not surprised by this tactic given the Tellez's
duplicitous reputation. Deciding she didn't want anyone
else in the bar to eavesdrop on their negotiations, she
leaned over the table and whispered, to the leader, " I see,
Gammet, and just what is it that interests these *other*
buyers?"
The Tellez leader smiled slyly and bent down to whisper
the answer in her ear. "It seems the Sak'kra Empire is
up to its old tricks. We believe they may be planning an
attack on the known Territories. We intercepted some
data crystals from one of their couriers."
The being in rags seemed even more surprised and very
interested in that information, but she tried to hide it. "So
I take it the price has gone up then?"
D'Argo lost interest as the hushed conversation prevented
him from hearing their exchange over the noise in the
bar. It was just as well, he was ready to return to the pod
and get as far away from Bacca-Prime as he could.
Gammet nodded to his client as one of the other Tellez
noticed a Peacekeeper Special Ops Captain and a Luxan
seated at the bar. "Gammet, look! A Peacekeeper!"
"He's no Peacekeeper, you fool! It's far too hot for them
here. Still, I have to admit he looks the part in that
uniform. I wonder where he got it? And the Luxan seems
to be in no hurry to kill him. When was the last time you
saw a Peacekeeper and a Luxan sharing a drink?"
The raggedly dressed woman looked over and
immediately recognized the newcomers, having crossed
paths with them once before, or rather they had crossed
hers. For an instant she wondered what they were doing
here, but turned back to the Tellez as the bargaining
entered a new stage.
"You're wasting my time, woman!" Gammet told Jena.
"The information you want will be costly. And from the
looks of you, I don’t think you will be able to afford it,"
he sneered, reaching out to touch her raggedy garment
disgustedly.
As the heat began to have more of an affect on her
Sebacean physiology, the Tellez became more
suspicious. Beads of sweat were forming on her brow as
the first tremors of the Living Death rattled her svelte
frame.
"Looks can…be…deceiving," Jena said brokenly, jerking
her arm out of the Tellez’s grasp.
"You are the deceiver," Gammet said calmly, then
pushed his chair back from the table and yelled, "you PK
tralk!"
With a burst of strength Jena turned the table over and
snapped her wrist blade out from beneath the long sleeve
of her garment, slashing it threateningly through the air.
The Tellez seated next to Jena grabbed her arm while
another pulled a small laser pistol from his boot. In an
instant the stiletto blade was sliced away from the base,
scorching the surrounding flesh in the process. Jena
clutched her wrist in agony, crying out in pain. As her
body succumbed to the heat, her considerable abilities
eroded quickly. She was not able to defend herself
against the three burly Tellez. Gammet backhanded her
across the face, knocking her to the floor.
Without further provocation, the fight erupted throughout
the bar with a ripple effect. It didn't take long for all the
patrons to join in, fists flew and glass shattered, along
with a jaw or two. Before John and D'Argo had figured
out what was going on they were in the midst of a good,
old-fashioned barroom brawl. John had Winona ready in
a flash and D'Argo drew his Qualta blade with equal
alacrity.
Having promised Aeryn he would return unscathed, John
was determined to keep his word. Agilely dodging
punches and flying furniture, he and D'Argo deftly
managed to avoid any physical damage, weaving in and
out of the melee with the fluid skill of seasoned NFL
running backs as they scrambled for the exit. Above the
din, John heard what sounded like a woman scream in
utter pain.
Instinctively he stopped and looked around the bar,
searching for the creature making that pitiful wail. He
spied his target lying in a heap on the dirty floor
surrounded by the menacing group of orange brigands.
The woman appeared to be badly injured, clutching her
arm and writhing in pain as the Tellez kicked at her with
their feet.
Just for an instant John thought there was something
vaguely familiar about her. //No… impossible. A
Peacekeeper wouldn't last two arns down here.// The
feeling vanished as a barstool zoomed passed his head
and crashed into the wall above the bar. Self-preservation
took precedence and John slid to the floor as D'Argo
dropped down to join him.
"Now you die, PK bitch!" Gammet vowed.
The wounded woman tried to get up, but she was too
weak to mount much of an effort. Without thinking of the
consequences, or his promise to Aeryn, John moved
toward the fallen woman, incensed that the Tellez would
attack a defenseless creature with such viciousness. There
was no honor in that.
As he stepped forward he aimed Winona at the leader of
the group; "I wouldn't kill her if I were you, Hairy
McClary!"
The hirsute man turned toward his accuser and raised his
weapon, but John fired first. The shot was a little off, but
it had the desired affect - disarming the leader - literally!
John had only meant to hit the ape-man in the hand,
dislodging his weapon, but Winona was still having
technical difficulties. Although the errant shot surprised
him, the sparks that flew from the wounded man's
shoulder socket shocked the hell out of John Crichton.
That, and the fact that losing an arm didn't seem to phase
him; he was laughing. Lucky for John and D'Argo his
laughter kept his cronies occupied as they joined in the
strange joke.
"Now that is the strangest reaction I've ever seen to
losing limb," John said, turning to D'Argo.
"I've lost nothing," laughed the one-armed bandit bending
down to pick up the disembodied arm. "You aren't the
first to severe one of my appendages. I lost my arm three
cycles ago, but I…well…shall we say I persuaded a
skillful surgeon in the Nim-Orthax System to fit me with
this artificial one. It is a simple procedure to reattach it."
John and D'Argo looked at each and shrugged. There was
apparently no limit to the wonders of the Uncharted
Territories.
The leader approached John; "you are brave for someone
who has a faulty weapon. What are doing on
Bacca-Prime?"
"Just a supply run," John answered then grinned bravely,
"but it seems we got a little more than we bargained for!"
The leader laughed boisterously with his fellows, he was
quite jovial as it turned out. When he composed himself
finally, he turned back to John, "I am Gammet," he
offered, slapping John on the back with his only hand.
"Why would you risk your life for a Peacekeeper? You
obviously aren’t Sebacean."
"Let's just say that Peacekeeper's have their uses when
they are alive and able to answer questions. Comes in
handy when you have a command carrier after you."
Giving him one of this patented hysterical laughs, John
added, "that's right, kinda makes me one of you, doesn't
it?"
"Indeed!" Gammet shouted, appreciative of John’s sense
of humor. He bowed slightly, then turned to his friends.
+++++
John and D'Argo had been gone about six arns - two arns
passed their scheduled return time, and Aeryn Sun started
pacing over an hour ago wearing a path across central
command. She was in such a foul mood that Zhaan and
Rygel left her alone to take her frustrations out on the
control console. Only Pilot blinked in occasionally to
check on his friend from the safety of the clamshell
viewer.
She was still angry that she couldn’t accompany the men
down to the planet. To her mind, it was the only way she
could keep John out of trouble. It wasn't that she doubted
his ability to take care of himself, not really. She was
quite proud of his progress in that area, under her
tutelage, of course. But there was a reason they were
called the Uncharted Territories; none of them knew what
hidden dangers might be lurking on these unfamiliar
worlds. And John, well he was so curious; sometimes his
fascination with the unknown short-circuited his natural
survival instincts. Aeryn considered it her personal
mission to keep him safe.
+++++
D'Argo was still contemplating John's unusual behavior,
wondering why his friend was so intent on saving a
Peacekeeper? Then it occurred to him that if there was
one Peacekeeper here there could be others. The human
just might be savvier than D'Argo gave him credit for -
sometimes. Quickly converting his blade to the rifle
configuration, D'Argo moved to John's side just as he
knelt beside the unconscious woman. That feeling of
familiarity hit John once again, but he didn't take the time
to dwell on it.
The woman’s wrist was badly mangled so John checked
the other, finding her pulse faint and thready. He looked
up at D’Argo, "she probably has a concussion. We better
get her up to Moya…Zhaan may be her only chance."
Deciding it was futile to argue the point right then,
D'Argo growled disapprovingly, and scooped the
Peacekeeper into his arms, cradling her as gently as he
could. The trio moved toward the exit with the big Luxan
leading the way as John watched their backs, hoping
none of the riffraff from the bar tried to come after them.
Fortunately the fight was still keeping most of them busy
and the three slipped out of the bar easily. The transport
pod was only a short distance from town and for once,
trouble didn't follow them.
Within a few microts they were all safely aboard the
transport pod. As D'Argo placed the woman on one of
the bunks along the wall, John manned the controls and
piloted them away from Bacca-Prime. Once they broke
orbit, D'Argo jerked Crichton out of his seat and
slammed him into the Hammond side bulkhead.
"What the Hezmana were you thinking, Crichton? You
risked both our lives for a half-dead Peacekeeper! Why
am I not surprised she's female?"
John frowned at that comment. //Always was a sucker for
a damsel in distress.// In truth, John prided himself on his
Southern gentility, even if he didn't believe that women
were the weaker sex, his mama had raised him right. Men
should at least try to protect them, if possible. A knight in
shining armor, well in John's case PK leather, fighting to
defend a lady's honor - not that it was really appreciated
in this end of the universe!
"Take it easy, D'Argo! If we get back to Moya in time
Zhaan might be able to save her, and then we can find out
what she's doing here. And more importantly, how she
managed to stay on Bacca-Prime without the Living
Death making her a vegetable."
D'Argo growled, "this is foolish, Crichton!"
"Maybe…but I have to try…. What if it was Aeryn?"
"That's not fair!"
"Who said life was fair, big guy?" He said, punching his
friend in the arm as he moved passed him.
D'Argo muttered some Luxan curse that John didn't
catch; neither did the translator microbes. Moving to the
pilot's seat, D'Argo took over the pod's controls while
John tended to their still unconscious guest. He carefully
unwrapped the scarf from her face, not at all prepared for
what he saw.
"Frell! What the hell…." It was the only thing he could
think of to say. The shock of seeing someone he actually
knew caused him to drop the damp cloth he had in his
hand in the middle of her face.
She sputtered, then groaned as she came to, "frell," she
groaned.
"Jena?" He managed to say as he picked up the cloth and
gently wiped her forehead.
"John?" She opened her eyes briefly trying to focus on
the visage looming above her, but it was the voice she
recognized. "Yes human, it's me…." She groaned again,
"or rather what's left of me."
"You're in pretty bad shape, but Zhaan will be able to fix
you up…I hope."
"You're taking me to your Leviathan…to Moya?"
"Yep, even though Grizzly Adams there isn't too happy
about that." John nodded his head toward D'Argo.
"The Luxan?"
"Yeah, D'Argo. What were you doing on that sand pile
anyway?"
"Ask me again if I recover," she moaned, slipping back
into unconsciousness.
John sat back and looked at the Peacekeeper that had
saved his life more than once. He had gotten to know
Jenavian Chatto very well, at least in the Biblical sense.
John smiled sadly at that. He'd be lying if he didn't admit
to enjoying their night at the lake, but Jena wasn't Aeryn,
and that's the only Peacekeeper he really wanted to get
close to. //Aeryn!// Like a blast from a pulse rifle, the
thought suddenly hit him. //Oh man she will go nuts if
she finds out about that.// Then quickly amended the
thought. //Well, I hope she will…or maybe I
don't…considering her temper!//
John walked up to D'Argo, "hey…guess who our little PK
is - Jenavian Chatto."
D'Argo turned abruptly, "from the Royal Planet?"
John nodded, "the one I frelled after she saved my sorry
ass. Remember, I told you about it."
"You're in deep dren if Aeryn finds out, Crichton,"
observed D'Argo.
"Ya think?" John deadpanned.
"Leave it to you to pick up another Peacekeeper!" D'Argo
said with a slight smirk. The big Luxan wasn't blind; he
had interrupted John and Aeryn in the flax and overheard
their conversation about ‘just the once’ on the mining
asteroid that confirmed his suspicions about what
happened between the human and Sebacean at the safe
house on the false earth.
As the their friendship strengthened, John and D’Argo
began to share some secrets. It was a natural progression
in their relationship, and filled a void for John. One of the
things he missed the most about home was the
camaraderie of male companionship. After the body
switching, D'Argo hadn't been surprised to learn that
John and Aeryn had shared a bed again. D'Argo, just as
the others in Moya's crew, was aware of the strong
attraction between them and found it puzzling that neither
seemed to act on it with any regularity.
"Well I guess I get what I deserve." John replied,
grinning as he hit the comms to Moya. "Pilot, have Zhaan
meet us in the docking bay. We have a medical
emergency."
"Who is injured?" Zhaan asked, concern evident in her
voice.
Aeryn screamed in the background, "Crichton! You
promised…."
"Calm down, Aeryn," John interrupted, secretly pleased
that she was concerned, "don’t worry, it’s not me or
D'Argo. We ran into an old friend, Jenavian Chatto."
"What?" Aeryn asked in disbelief, "that tralk?"
"Aeryn, I wouldn't call a member of the Peacekeeper
Special Directorate a tralk," John laughed, though given
what happened between them at the lake it might be truer
than he cared to admit.
Before Aeryn or Zhaan could react to that piece of news,
John cut the link. Turning to D'Argo he wiggled his
eyebrows, "let the games begin…."
D'Argo shook his head, "sometimes you are just too odd,
Crichton."