When Skies are Gray 2

Tour Bus: 1

By ISIS

Disclaimers: Farscape is the property of Rockne S O'Bannon, Jim Henson Company et al. I make no claim on them. I borrow only. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

Archiving: You're welcome to it; please tell me where it's at. (louiseboyden@earthlink.net)
Acknowledgements: Thanks as always to Quilt Lady for her great suggestions and criticisms

"Are you sure that this is such a good idea, Rygel?" Zhaan asked skeptically, as she accompanied the deposed Dominar of Hyneria down to the docking bay. Her long blue robes swished around her ankles as she moved purposefully through the corridors of the Leviathan Moya that had been first her prison and was now her home.

"Of course, it's a good idea!" the floating Hynerian exclaimed. "These musicians are worth their weight in currency. Their manager Milban assures me that Vortex is one of the highest grossing bands in the Uncharted Territories."
Zhaan remained unconvinced by her mercenary shipmate's claims. "But can they pay?"
"Good universal currency!" Rygel boasted. "All we have to do is transport the band and its crew to its next three concerts and we will receive enough currency to keep us in foodcubes and supplies for the next two cycles."
"What do the others say about this?" Zhaan asked.
"They're extremely happy to be doing this," Rygel insisted, with more bravado than truth.
***************
"I don't trust this Milban and I don't trust Rygel," Aeryn stated emphatically, as she and Crichton, D'Argo and Chiana made their way down to the docking bay to greet their latest passengers.
"I'm with Aeryn," D'Argo agreed darkly. "Not only are they musicians, but their manager is Hynerian. Put two Hynerians in a room together, negotiating, and I get very nervous about the outcome."
"Ah, come on, you guys, this could be fun. Haven't you ever dreamed about being a rock star?" John Crichton replied. The vacant looks on the faces of two of his companions was enough to convince him that they again had no idea what he was talking about. He sighed and followed them into the docking bay to meet the transport carrying what Rygel assured them was the hottest band in the Uncharted Territories.
Beside him, Chiana was bursting with excitement. "I'm with you, Crichton. I saw Vortex perform on Rompuz 7. It was the draddest! I can't believe I'm actually going to meet them face to face!" Her face was glowing with anticipation as the transport door opened slowly. Glancing at his other two companions, John saw that they had merely raised their weapons higher.
An Hynerian drifted out, his thronechair ornate and high tech, obviously a later and more improved model than Rygel's. He raised his hands immediately. "Please, no interviews, no pictures, autographs, vids. The band is only interested in getting to their quarters and resting up for ... " He stopped his obviously rehearsed speech when he saw the two weapons trained on him by D'Argo and Aeryn. "Uh, what is this?" he asked uncertainly.
"Merely a security precaution," Rygel assured his Hynerian counterpart, as he positioned his own thronechair between the transport and his two shipmates. Casting a glare at the two armed fugitives, he extended his hand in greeting to the band's manager. "I am Rygel the Sixteenth, Dominar of the Hynerian Empire.
The other Hynerian examined him suspiciously, "YOU are the Dominar! I thought the Dominar was named Bishan!"
Rygel's gaze darkened considerably, "Bishan is an impostor. I am the true Dominar!"
"Whatever!" The younger Hynerian dismissed his planet's politics with an impatient wave of his hand. "It does't matter to me. I have renounced my citizenship. As have all the members of the band. We are free spirits in the Uncharted Territories; free to explore our personal and artistic freedom."
"Great! Woodstock here we come!" John said sarcastically. Then, with a speculative glance at Aeryn, he added, "Though free love may not be such a bad idea."
His Sebacean colleague merely glowered at him, not lowering her weapon a dinch.
"What exactly does that mean?" D'Argo demanded impatiently.
"It means we have no passports, no papers, not even the slightest idea where our homeworlds are, and we're proud of the fact," a new voice added. A new figure emerged from the transport. The first word that came into John's mind was elf. All right, tall elf.
Vortex's lead musician was a tall, slender bipedal creature. His skin glowed with a faintly greenish tinge. His long, flowing hair was white blonde, cascading freely around pointed ears pierced and decorated with several gold hoops. His features were very refined and delicate. Piercing slanted emerald eyes glowed above sculpted cheekbones and sensuous olive lips. He wore a shimmering golden vest and a pair of tight auburn leather pants. He moved with a confident grace, taking in Moya's docking bay with a mixture of calm and caution. Beside him, John heard Chiana sigh with awe.
"Isn't he the draddest?" she breathed. John looked at her with confusion, clearly not seeing the attraction. Then he turned in sudden fear to Aeryn, checking her response to their new passenger. He relaxed perceptively to see that the only reaction she exhibited was one of suspicion and disgust.
The elfin musician stepped gracefully from the transport and languidly assessed his surroundings. His green gaze settled on Chiana, who was standing apart, her eyes fixed on the handsome features of the lead musician with adoration. His eyes swept over her slender form appreciatively and he smiled ingratiatingly. Chiana sighed with pleasure and stepped forward. The musician took her hands in his and raised one to his lips. "Raf Triconian, formerly of the planet Hegemonos. And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?" Chiana melted visibly in the face of his gallantry.
"I ... I'm Chiana," the Nebari stuttered, overcome at meeting her idol. "You are so dradd! I've been a fan of yours simply forever!" Behind John, D'Argo growled menacingly. "I saw your performance on Rompus 7 with my brother Neri. It was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen. You rocked!" John smirked at Chiana's use of Earth slang, which clearly confused the alien musician. "Would you please give me your autograph?" Chiana pleaded, pulling a transparency and stylus out of her bodice, to Raf's great interest.
The manager Milban hovered quickly between the two. "I said, no autographs!"
"What's the problem, Milban? I think I can afford to give this lovely lady an autograph, since she is a member of the crew that will see us to our next concert stop." Chiana sighed again when he focussed his emerald gaze once more on her, kissing the back of her hand again. "Definitely a most lovely lady!"
"Raf! Where are you? Why won't you help me down?" a pouty voice asked from within the transport. Raf's eyes darkened with annoyance and he kissed Chiana's hand quickly before meeting her eyes apologetically. Then the tall thin musician started to turn back to the transport pod's hatch. Before he could reach the door, a scantily clad female appeared in the entry, her pause carefully calculated to place her at the best advantage for photos. John marvelled at her appearance. She was primarily humanoid with a striking figure and features. The only alien aspect was the pair of coiled and polished opalescent horns that graced either side of her head, similar to a mountain goat. Her hair, or mane, was a beautiful auburn colour flowing around the horns and down her back, and her eyes were a golden brown. Her gold and auburn colouring was highlighted by the shimmering gold skirt and bodice that she wore, carefully draped and slit to reveal a tantalizing expanse of thigh, midriff, and bosom. She looked around the docking bay and pouted prettily to see that she was not the centre of attention. Tottering on impossibly high heeled shoes, the alien surveyed her surroundings with a mixture of calculation and helplessness. Her gaze landed on John and her eyes gleamed with speculation. Deliberately starting down before Raf had reached her, the female let out a shriek and stumbled on the stair. As the closest, John moved quickly to grab her around the waist to steady her. She looked up at him with a mixture of speculation and appreciation.
"Thank you, ....?" the alien female whispered, letting herself fall into John's supporting arms.
"John. John Crichton."
"I'm Shiona," she replied breathlessly.
"Just Shiona?" John asked, giving her one of his engaging grins.
"Yes, just Shiona," she replied flirtatiously. "But you can call me Shy for short." The female pressed herself suggestively against John. He coughed uncomfortably and deliberately stepped away from her. He didn't dare look at Aeryn, who still had her rifle trained on the newcomers.
"Ah, I wouldn't exactly call you 'Shy'," he sputtered.
"Frelling trelk!" Aeryn muttered under her breath, drawing Raf's attention to her for the first time. John noted the way the elf's eyes widened in appreciation at Aeryn's dark beauty. His green eyes travelled assessingly up and down her slender form in its black leather vest and pants. Then he plastered an insincere smile on his face and stepped forward to the Sebacean. "I don't believe we've been introduced. I'm Raf Triconian. I'm the leader of Vortex. And you are?"
"Not interested in the slightest," Aeryn replied scathingly. "If you wouldn't mind, please move out of my line of sight," she said, hefting the pulse rifle. Raf stepped back in shock. Aeryn's reaction was not one he had experienced lately, if ever. His green eyes darkened dangerously.
Beside him, John heard the female draw in her breath. A quick glance at her face showed him how pleased she was by Aeryn's rejection of the elf. He was not too displeased at her rejection himself.
Whatever might have happened next was interrupted by the appearance of the remaining band members. The Vortex equivalent of a bassist, Zel, was clearly an Illonic, which caused D'Argo to draw in his breath in surprise. The drummer, Etric, was a frenetic alien whose appearance John could only describe as raccoon-like. He was a small creature, whose face and neck was covered in grey fur, delineated with the characteristic darker mask. His eyes were bright and intelligent and his speech was rapid and filled with jokes and laughter. He never stopped moving, drumming his fingers or hands on the table or tapping his foot incessantly. John could not help but like the creature.
The group was completed by the languid and unexpected appearance of two 'roadies', expatriate Tavleks who helped the band move and set up their equipment. John nearly laughed out loud to learn that the ugly red-skinned brothers' names were Friq and Fraq.
The confusion of the group's initial docking past, Rygel and Milban launched into careful negotiations regarding the placement of the group's equipment. On hearing that the band required not only quarters but rehearsal space as well, Rygel upped the price by what he considered an outrageous amount. His face registered consternation when Milban agreed without question. As the Hynerian manager directed the roadies to remove and set-up the band's instruments and sound equipment in the empty cargo bay next to the one Aeryn had appropriated for her exercise room, Rygel completed the final introductions of the crew to the band members. Then the imperious little Dominar led the newly arrived passengers out of the docking bay and to their new quarters.
Etric chose to stay behind and help with the set-up of his precious drum set. With a quick grin, he smiled at Moya's crew and then turned his attention to his instruments. Zel kindly and quietly offered to take his luggage to his room for him, and bent to lift the two satchels and follow Rygel. Zhaan offered him a hand but he smiled briefly at her and shook his head, his fleshy tattooed tentacles flying.
Seeing no further need for her pulse rifle, Aeryn quickly set the safety back in place and turned to leave. Raf moved swiftly to intercept her on her way out, but her no-nonsense stride had her out the door before he could join her. Feeling somewhat foolish at having been ignored again, the elfin musician turned to see Chiana gazing at him with adoring dark eyes. Smiling and feeling more in his element, he stretched out his hand to her. "I would love it if you would show me to my quarters, Chiana."
The Nebari's eyes widened in shock then she grinned and joined him. "It would be my pleasure," she said breathlessly, cocking her head to look up into his eyes flirtatiously.
"And my bags?" Raf said. He turned to D'Argo who hovered nearby, clearly not pleased at Chiana's reaction. "Would you mind?" Without waiting for an answer, the Hegemon elf took Chiana's hand and followed Zel out of the docking bay.
D'Argo growled so dangerously that John put out a restraining hand on the enraged Luxan's arm. "This is definitely not a good idea!" D'Argo ground out under his breath.
"It's only for couple of weekens. And we really need the currency," John whispered.
D'Argo met his eyes, unconvinced of the wisdom of their plans. He bent and grabbed the leader's bags, slinging them roughly over his shoulder.
Shiona emerged once more from the transport with the last carryall to add to her enormous pile of luggage. Her eyes glittered dangerously to see that she had been left behind by the rest of her band and Moya's crew. With a plaintive call after Raf, she stamped her foot in frustration. Then she sighed and turned pleading eyes to John. "Could you help me with my things?" she asked wistfully. "I seem to be forgotten here."
John smiled again at her, recognising a spoiled female when he saw one. Not wanting to have her view him as a personal servant, he said quite deliberately, "Choose the two most important bags. Then I'll get your roadies to take the rest to your quarters." He stood back and waited. Shiona' eyes glittered dangerously again, but seeing the Human watching her carefully, she smiled and indicated the two largest bags. Then she thanked him prettily enough and headed out of the docking bay after the rest of the group. D'Argo smirked at John despite his anger and they worked to get the heavy bags down to the quarters that had been assigned to the band.
***************
The trip to the first concert location, on a remote commerce planet called Plethron, took two solar days and three starbursts. During that time the crew tried not to let their passengers disrupt the routine they had fallen into, but the band members more often than not interfered. Shiona especially made increasing demands not only on her fellow band members and crew, but on Moya's shipmates as well, mostly John, to whom she stuck like a leech. Aeryn's expression was one of tight anger most of the time, despite John's efforts to avoid the clinging singer. The ex-PeaceKeeper spent more and more time taking her frustrations out on her exercise dummy, all the while listening to the music that poured from the cargo bay next to hers as the band rehearsed incessantly. D'Argo too was not pleased. Chiana spent an inordinate amount of time down watching the rehearsals and fawning all over Raf. The tall elfin Hegemonian seemed to accept Chiana's near worship as his due. But John had noted jealously that the leader's slanted green eyes strayed frequently in Aeryn's direction, whenever she was in the same room with him. The fact that the Sebacean ignored the handsome alien was obviously a new experience for him. Typically for Aeryn, she was completely unaware of his interest in her, a situation that John was quite happy with. All in all, rather than being a welcome distraction, the band Vortex was only increasing tensions in the already tense atmosphere aboard Moya.
The one thing that Moya's crew could all agree on was that the band was good. Very good. Their sound was unlike anything that John had heard before, not that he had heard a lot of music in the Uncharted Territories. There had been the rather techno music in the PeaceKeeper officers' lounge on the Gammak base and the insipid disco on the Royal Planet, not to mention the Grateful Dead clone that had appealed to the %%%% stoned D*Argo and Zhaan, but Vortex was another sound altogether. Shiona's voice was resonant and surprisingly deep, given the breathy, high, little girl speaking voice she affected. Etric's percussion was more like a sampler than a drum set. He seemed able to produce the most amazing sounds from his instrument, and there wasn't a rhythm too fast or too syncopated for his skill. Zel, on bass, came alive when his elaborately stringed instrument was in his hand, transforming him from the quiet, reserved being he was with the crew to a masterful showman and virtuoso instrumentalist. But it was Raf that John had to admire the most. The elfin lead's long thin fingers coaxed the most beautiful melodies and riffs from his guitar-like instrument, and his rich baritone voice complemented Shiona's contralto perfectly. The band's repertoire ranged from frenetic dance music with throbbing rhythms and powerful harmonies, to delicate, soulful ballads. And the band was adept at singing in a variety of languages, each one carefully attuned to the rhythm and style of the music they produced. John found himself frequently drawn to the cargo bay turned rehearsal hall. He was not surprised to see Pilot's image in the viewscreen listening to the rehearsal as he manipulated Moya's controls with ease, his four arms seemingly moving in time to the music.
One evening, after yet another dramatic exit by Shiona after a fight with Raf and Milban, Raf had turned to Aeryn with an oily smile on his face. "Would you care to join me on the terrace, Aeryn. I understand it is a favourite place of yours and I have yet to see it. I would love it if you would show it to me." The elfin being leaned over, deliberately invading Aeryn's space.
John felt his anger rise. *Hey, that's my girl!* he wanted to yell, but all he could do was sit silently and fume at the musician's obvious flirtation.
His anger quickly dispersed, however, as Aeryn stared at Raf as if he had lost his head. Then she dismissed him. "Sorry. I have to go down and check my Prowler, then change the chakan oil cartridge in my rifle. Perhaps Chiana would be interested." Aeryn rose abruptly, replaced her tray, and marched out of the room, her dark ponytail flying.
The rest of his band and the crew coughed or turned away to hide their amusement. Raf stared after her, a dark look of angry embarrassment on his face. Then he smiled, though it did not reach his eyes. His eyes, glittering with resentment, moved deliberately over to D'Argo then Chiana. He turned to his eager young Nebari fan. "Is Aeryn right? Would you be interested in showing me Moya's lovely terrace?" he asked, leaning in close to the white-haired Chiana.
"Yes, Raf, yes, I would. Aeryn's loss is my gain." Chiana had the grace to let her eyes slide somewhat guiltily towards D'Argo and then back to Raf's handsome face. She stood and held out her hand. "Shall we go?" The Hegemonian smiled again and took Chiana's hand, leading her from the central chamber.
John looked over at the stricken D'Argo. *Oh, man, Chiana! You're playing a dangerous game here.* The Human knew that things had not been going well between the Luxan and the sometimes capricious Nebari. He studied D'Argo's face, almost relieved to see hurt there rather than the ever possible hyper-rage.
Before he could say anything, the usually quiet Zel spoke. "Not to worry, my friend. Raf is all talk."
D'Argo gave the Illonic a sad smile. "Yes, but Chiana is not." Zel had the grace to look embarrassed, then he smiled at the Luxan. "Females!" His comment clearly included John Crichton as well.
"Yeah, I hear you!" John said with a wry grin.
The next microt his comm sprang to life. "Crichton! I could really use your help down here." Aeryn's voice came through imperiously.
John met Zel's eyes, rolling his own. Zel grinned and even D'Argo had to smile. "Sure thing, Aeryn. I'll be right there," he replied. He quickly cleared his tray and headed out to meet the Sebacean. As he moved out into the corridor, he heard Zel begin to question D'Argo about his Shilqulin. D'Argo answered him eagerly. *That's a good man there,* John thought to himself as he sauntered down to meet Aeryn.
***************
"I have made contact with Dropo Ard," Pilot informed the waiting Milban. The rest of the band and Moya's crew had gathered on the Command as soon as Pilot had informed them of their proximity to Plethron.
"Excellent, Pilot. Can you put him on screen?"
"Right away!"
Pilot's image disappeared to be replaced by that of a purple-skinned being with wild blue hair that would have been a dead ringer for Don King if he hadn't sported the conspicuous third eye in the middle of his forehead. "Milban! Baby! Welcome to Plethron! How are you, my good friend?" The creature enthused, waving three ring-covered hands, his glittering suit almost blinding.
"Dropo! I'm well. Are you ready to be blown out of the water by my friends here?" Milban said, hovering in front of the screen.
"Frelling right I am! We've got a sold-out show!" Milban shared a satisfied look with the other members of the band. "I'm so glad you were able to find transportation! I guess you got that little cash flow problem solved, eh my friend?"
At his words, Rygel glided forward to confront the other Hynerian. "Cash flow? What the hezmana is he talking about?"
Milban waved the Dominar away urgently. "Later. I'll explain later," he hissed urgently. "What problem, Dropo, you liar? Vortex is raking it in."
Dropo smiled insincerely. "Well, you've definitely made a killing here. When will you be landing, setting up?"
"Immediately. The band wants a sound check and then time to relax. You've got the rooms ready for the group, their roadies and security?"
"Security?" John mouthed to Aeryn. She shrugged at him, as bewildered as he was.
"As you requested. Or shall I say demanded?" the Plethronian laughed, a smug, insincere sound. "We'll see you when you land," Dropo said before signing off.
As soon as the screen darkened, Rygel gave D'Argo a sign. The Luxan reached over and hauled the Hynerian manager out of his thronechair. The sled dropped to the floor with a thud. Rygel hovered over, his face in the other Hynerian's. "What's this about a cash flow problem?"
Staring up into the enraged face of a Luxan, Milban had the grace to look scared. "Uhh, okay. I was a little less than honest with you about the state of our finances."
The band members hovered nearby, clearly as interested as Rygel. All but Raf, who seemed to be trying to back out of the room, attempting for once to go unnoticed.
"You had better tell us the truth, you Hynerian slug!" D'Argo threatened, shaking the already trembling Hynerian.
"It's ... it's not a ... a problem," the Hynerian stammered. "Once we do these three concerts, we'll be solvent again. I swear!"
"But what about the profits from the rest of the tour?" Shiona demanded.
Milban looked over at Raf, then back at the band members. "They're ... they're gone!"
"Gone?!" Shiona shrieked. "How!?"
Milban looked over at Raf again. He pointed his finger at the leader who was trying to disappear. "It was Raf!"
All eyes turned to the elfin being. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Look, it wasn't really my fault. How was I supposed to know she was only fourteen cycles? She looked at least twenty!"
Zel stepped forward, a disappointed look on his usually serene face. "So what happened, Raf?"
The lead musician's green eyes opened, filled with resignation. "This female kept throwing herself at me, back on Saltyn 4. She was at every concert, sending me notes, pictures. Then she showed up in my room. I swear, I thought she was old enough!" He closed his eyes, remembering. "It turns out that not only was she underage, she was the niece of Saltyn's President. It took every cent we had to buy her off. Otherwise, we would have all landed in jail for a very long time."
Shiona was the first to react. She marched over to Raf and smacked him across the face. Then she stormed out. Raf met the eyes of his fellow musicians, almost pleading for forgiveness. Zel moved over to D'Argo and spoke softly. "I'm sorry, my friend. I guess he's not all talk after all. " Zel nodded to Etric and the two left the Command. Raf looked after them sadly.
Rygel hovered over to Milban, who still dangled in D'Argo's grasp. "So what does that mean for us? You promised us hard currency and a lot of it."
Milban struggled and D'Argo let him drop to the floor. The Hynerian manager pulled himself upright. He recovered his thronechair and hovered over to face Rygel and the others. "You'll get your money. But you have to follow through with the entire deal. The band will be well paid, and their cut is half the profits as well. But they don't see a cent until after they've finished the last concert, on Lensh 12." Milban looked from one of Moya's crew to the other.
"I say we dump this dren right now!" D'Argo growled. Aeryn looked like she was ready to agree with him.
But John held up his hand. "We still need the currency, people. Remember the Budong. We don't ever want to go hungry like that again." He looked over at Zhaan who nodded. Chiana seemed ready to stay the course as well.
"You guarantee we'll get paid?" Rygel demanded.
"You have my word on it!" Milban replied. "If not, we forfeit our equipment and the last demo tapes we've made. You can see that they're worth money," he hastily added, when the crew gave him a look that clearly indicated how much they valued his word.
"You better be telling the truth, pal, because we're not exactly interested in going into the record biz," John threatened.
Milban sighed and wiped his sweaty brow in relief. "So, we've got a deal?"
"We'll renegotiate based on profit projections, but I think we can come to some alternate arrangement," Rygel said with a smirk.
***************
"So tell me again how it is that we got roped into providing security for the band," John complained.
Aeryn cast him a glance. "Rygel says if anything happens to the group before their last concert, we don't get paid. So it's in our best interests, as well as theirs, to make sure they survive to the end of their tour." Aeryn hefted her pulse rifle and surveyed the crowd of screaming fans. The concert had just about finished. Vortex was wowing their fans with their grand finale, a spectacle of music, lights and special effects. John was a little disappointed that he had had to watch from the sidelines. It had been a long time since he had been able to let himself go at a musical extravaganza the likes of which Vortex obviously was famous for.
The crowd of fans screamed as the last notes died out. Shiona, clad in a very revealing outfit, ran off the stage, followed by Zel and Etric and finally Raf. The multi-racial crowd in the open-air arena screamed for more as the last traces of smoke dissipated. The band took a microt to wipe their sweaty faces and down a few gulps of water before going back out to tantalize the crowd with a final encore from their latest vid, hastily assembled from the live performances of the tour so far. Hawkers were already in place in the lobby, with copies of the disk ready for sale.
Aeryn's face clearly showed her disapproval of the whole pop music scene, to such an extent that John could not help teasing her. "So, you don't like their music?"
"It's not that," Aeryn said, her eyes moving over the crowd of screaming and largely youthful fans. "I don't understand why they scream. They paid good money to be here. How can they hear the performers if they keep making so much noise?"
John smiled, his heart a little saddened by what Aeryn had been denied through her regimented life with the PeaceKeepers. "It's all part of the experience, Aeryn. Those kids out there probably know the music better than Raf and the band. They are just revelling in their youth and freedom."
Aeryn stared at him uncomprehendingly. "Did you go to concerts like this, back on Earth?"
John smiled in memory. "Yeah, I did. You'll have to remind me to tell you about them sometime." Then he saw the sad look on her face and instantly regretted his words. He reached out to place a consoling hand on her arm.
Just then, the band members started to emerge from their dressing rooms. A large number of screaming fans had started to assemble at the stage door. "Okay, heads up, Aeryn. This is where things can get a little dicey." He checked out the distance from the stage door to the waiting transport.
Aeryn removed the safety from her rifle and hefted it, ready to fire. "No, Aeryn! They're just kids. No shooting!"
Unfortunately, Raf chose that microt to try to get to the waiting transport. Several fans surged forward, trying to get an autograph or souvenir of the evening. Aeryn moved forward to intercept them, protecting Raf. John cried out in horror as Aeryn was overcome by the surging multitude of screaming fans, most of them female. "Aeryn!" John drew his gun and fired into the air. Unbelievably, it took a couple of shots before the crowd finally dissipated somewhat. A bruised and battered Aeryn emerged from the crowd, her arms scratched and her clothes torn, her eyes flashing fire. John saw that Raf and the others managed to reach the transport unscathed. Then he reached around and hauled Aeryn into the transport behind him and locked the door. They could clearly hear the thumps and bangs as the rabid fans hurled themselves against the transport.
"Are you all right?" John asked, his hands passing over the Sebacean, lightly checking for serious injuries as she sat back in one of the passenger seats.
Aeryn glared at him, her blue eyes blazing in her beautiful face. "Just kids, you said, Crichton!" She tried to pull her torn vest together again. "Next time, I shoot to kill!"
She started to get up to pilot the transport back to Moya, but John pushed her gently down. "No, I'll fly." He grinned as her face clearly showed what she thought of that idea, but she relaxed back into the seat with a groan. *She must be more hurt than I thought,* John mused. He gave her one more glance then moved over to the controls, beginning the launch sequence.
Raf came to kneel in front of her. "Are you all right?" he asked.
Aeryn looked at his handsome face and sighed. "Yes, Raf, I'm fine. Thank you for asking." She stared at the elfin alien in dismay. "Is it like this every time?"
Raf grinned ruefully. "Yes, ever since we made it big."
"How do you live like this?" the ex-PeaceKeeper asked in horror.
"Actually, it's what we've always dreamed of." He leaned over and gave Aeryn a soft kiss. "Thanks for your efforts to protect us." He smiled, the expression making his face more handsome. Then he leaned down to her again.
Aeryn accepted the elfin creature's second kiss with an embarrassed air. Her eyes slid to John's jealous gaze then she closed her eyes, seemingly surrendering to sleep as the transport flew back to Moya. None of them noticed Shiona's murderous stare.