Chapter 49

Aeryn

"A weapon?" Aeryn choked. "You mean that." She looked up at D'Argo, trembling in fear.

D'Argo looked back at her with a grim expression. "I do."

John laughed.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

Crichton chuckled once more. "Nothing. Only out here would anyone ever consider a sex bomb as a weapon." The human went on. "Course the effect is not as deadly."

"Might be more fun than deadly," Aeryn said then looked back D'Argo. "Weapon you said."

"Yes," D'Argo guffawed. "For when they were occupied…" he smiled terribly and turned away.

Aeryn looked to the side at Crichton who was sprawled bonelessly on the floor. "Sorry, for if I hadn't been here…"

John reached out a shaky hand and touched her leg. "Aeryn, uhm, I tried to… stop…"

She shook her head. "Been a while since someone tried to make love to my boot."

Crichton grinned. "That wasn't quite my objective, I believe."

"Lucky boot," she answered and stroked his fingers. "Shame…" she cleared her throat and shaking her head complained, "And a headache besides. Not quite what I craved."

He ran his hand over his face. "Hell of a day. A spaceship crash, lost in these caverns, and a sexual explosion. Sheesh."

"Not your regular sort of day."

"No," John said. "I am sorry about the boot," he snorted, "and the other things."

Aeryn reached out and touched John's hand. "Not our fault."

"I wonder," he asked her softly, "what would have…"

"What do you think?" she leered slightly. "Not exactly planned, though."

"No doubt," his voice fell. "Ah, not very nice, however. I'm sorry all the same."

"Crichton, I have no doubt that we… we… would have…"

"I get it. Just stop and Aeryn, I wouldn't ever force you."

"Nor I you. Recreating should never be that way." She looked away. "But given the right time and place," she cleared her throat and looked about the room. "Can't say this would be it." Her hand shifted its grip and softly stroked his wrist. What she wanted… well… who she wanted was lying two motras away and it was taking all her willpower not to climb onto him. "John…" she started to say. "I…"

On a command carrier, it was fully expected that Peacekeeper troops would recreate freely, as it long it did not interfere with their assigned duties. Her friend Yal Henta was one, that for a time, recreated with anyone and everyone after lights out.

Aeryn asked her, "Why? What is wrong? You didn't used to be like this. Are you trying to prove something? Plus you're getting a drenish reputation."

Yal bobbed her head, her short hair flicking. "Aeryn, after what I saw…"

"What? On your last mission?" Aeryn and Yal were closeted in a dark corner of the pilot's reserved bar.

Her friend drank her raslack and leaned back, rolling the mug between her hands. "I saw my flight leader and his wingman collide after the attack roll out."

Aeryn stiffened. "A mid-air?"

"And after we got through all the defensive fire those mud-grubbers were putting up!" Yal took another drink and looked long and hard at her Aeryn. "What's it all mean?"

"You had your orders. Just as we all do."

A tall pilot slunk down on the cushion next to Henta and stroked her shoulder. "Tonight?" he asked softly.

Henta put down her mug and gave Aeryn a sad smile. "We fly and we frell! What else is there?" Then she stood up and entwining her arms in the man's left Aeryn sitting in the booth.

Aeryn knew that recreating was important. It released natural biological and physiological tension, or so she had been taught. She had no intent of asking to be put on a breeding roster, which was sometimes granted to volunteers, but was typically based on random selection.

Another pilot sat down. "Your friend left."

Aeryn recognized the man. "You're in Recon."

He smiled and it was a nice smile. "Belak Mela."

"What do you want?"

He shrugged. "You looked lonely." He stretched his arms and one landed behind her shoulders, where his hand started rubbing. "And… I'm lonely. So…"

Aeryn watched Henta and her date leave the noisy bar and that wasn't what she wanted. "Go away."

The hand withdrew and he stood. "Some other time, perhaps."

"It's not you," she told him, and he was nice to look at, tall and dark, with blue eyes. "Its…"

Belak cupped her chin and grinned. "Wrong time and place, Officer Sun?"

Aeryn had left the bar, changed into workout gear and pummeled the punching bag until it gave up.

Crichton pulled his hand free of hers. "No. Bad timing. Wrong place." He sighed. "We're still stuck underground. And how will find Zhaan or Rygel? No one has tried to shoot me, today, must be about time for that to happen." He looked over at Pulta.

The little miner blanched, if it was possible for a furry creature to do so, and ducked his head abashedly. He seemed to tower over the prostate human and Peacekeeper. "I should return this to you." He held out John's pulse pistol. "You are clearly not a threat. Take it back."

"What about my pistol?" Aeryn asked.

Pulta coughed. "I will order that your weapons be returned." He cast a worried look at Ka D'Argo. "And yours in addition to theirs."

D'Argo crossed his arms. "I feel bereft without it. A Luxan warrior without his blade…" his voiced drooped. "Not much of a warrior."

Crichton chuckled. "I've seen you do plenty of damage without your blade."

D'Argo sniffed. "True. Now how can we find our companions? They must be searching for us. You mentioned your people have seen a floating thing. That is one of our friends."

"You told me you had strange friends. Describe this one."

"Rygel is a small person, sort of grayish-green. Small eyes and ears. He doesn't walk much; prefers to ride is hover-chair. And he is, or was, a dominar, an emperor."

Pulta snorted. "Doesn't sound like much of an emperor."

"Rygel ruled the Hynerian Empire. He claims six hundred billion Hynerians called him their ruler," D'Argo intoned. "It's true."

Pulta's eyes grew large. "Six hundred billion? He must be very wise."

Aeryn and Crichton laughed together. "Not hardly," Aeryn added. "He'd steal the laces from your boots, if he thought there was a trader who might give him a few krindars for them."

"Oh, I'm sure I'd tremble in fear before him," sniffed Hemach. "How are you feeling, you two?" She squatted down, nose twitching. "You two are zelmash, I can tell."

"Zelmash?" croaked Aeryn whose hand was still trying to crawl across to John's.

Hemach smiled, her ragged teeth shining. "Yes. Oh yes. It's what we call two who have…" she paused, "been together."

"Not for some time," said John with an odd look.

"It was just the once, Crichton," Aeryn said crossing her arms in anger. "And none of your business!" she barked at the furry healer.

"Fine! Fine, if that's what you wish." Hemach held up her paws in surrender. "I'll not mention it."

John's head tilted towards Aeryn's and he whispered, "If it really happened."

Aeryn's head turned to hers and his face went white when her saw the fierce look she had. "Now you want to deny it happened?" She rolled away from him and huddled into herself. "Frell yourself!"

Author's Notes:

Krindar - Monetary credits used on some worlds of the Uncharted Territories.