"FRELL!" D'Argo said, kicking a nearby airvent. "Pilot, why didn't you stop her?"
"She was quite... insistant. I'm afraid I didn't have much choice."
D'Argo growled. This whole Captain gig just wasn't quite what he'd hoped for.
Chiana opened the transport pod hatch, the dusty air of the planet immediately drying her eyes. Checking her pulse pistol, she stepped out, boots crunching slightly on the gritty sand. "OK," She whispered, "For Nerri."
Sikozu opened up the dusty, grimy skylight, finally having caught a glimpse of the human. "Crichton!" She half called, half whispered through the opening. He looked up, squinting at the bright light in the dim room, startled. "Sputnik!" He turned his head to the grey figure on the chair nearby, who was looking up, her eyes wide and her mouth in an "O" of surprise. "See, I told ya my friends would be along." He looked back up to Sikozu. "Hey, can ya get down here and untie me?"
Before Sikozu could answer, the loud clank of the door lock echoed through the warehouse. She pulled her head back quickly, reaching for her Comms.
"D'Argo, I found him."
"So, you must be the famous John Crichton. It's a pleasure to meet you." His captor circled the pillar he was strapped to, looking at him closely. Before he could respond, she continued, her boots crunching on the gritty floor as she moved. "You know, you're turning into quite the legend in the Uncharted Territories. Destroying a Shadow Depository, a Gammak Base, and even a full Command Carrier." She paused in her circuit of the pillar, standing directly in front of him, looking him in the eyes, with a tilt to the head that made him think instantly of Chiana. "Funny, I never thought you'd be caught this easily."
He looked at her. "Listen, sweetheart, I've had bigger, grosser and more bad-ass nasties pick my brain, so let's just cut to the chase. What do you want from me?"
"My dear Crichton," she said, running a finger through his hair and chuckling. "Who said I wanted you?" She turned on her heal and walked away, the crunch-crunch of her boots marking her movements, even after she left Crichton's view. He heard Ferra struggle, gasp and call out in anger as the woman passed her, which was suddenly silenced by a ringing slap. Then the door clanked as it opened and closed again. Crichton let his head droop. Not he just had to hope Sikozu would be back.
Aeryn and D'Argo moved up the thin, dark alley, towards the rear entrance to the warehouse, weapons primed and ready. Peering around the corner, Aeryn counted three guards, two Sebaceans and a Luxan, all apparently mercenaries. She turned to D'Argo and nodded. They burst around the corner, weapons up. The guards saw them immediately, firing as soon as they rounded the corner. None of them saw the red-clad figure half-way up the wall. Within seconds, all three guards lay immobile on the dusty mini-dunes covering the floor in these little-used backstreets.
Crichton heard the door burst inwards, for a moment thinking that their captor had come back, then he realised that the sound was that of the door lock being ripped off it's mountings, the door itself banging against the wall. He couldn't see where the sounds was coming from, but he caught sight of Ferra's face, surprise written across her features. The young Nebari's mouth was open, her eyes wide. He tensed, waiting for the blow, the sting, whatever it was that would be coming. Instead, he heard a sharp clang, metal against concrete, and the tension binding his hands to the pillar was gone.
"Crichton, are you alright?"
"Aeryn? Yeah, I'm fine." He rubbed his wrists. The plastic-like bindings had caused deep red welts to come up where they had bitten into the flesh. "Listen, the guards hightailed it outta here not long ago. I think it would be a good idea not to be here when they get back."
D'Argo steeped from behind Crichton's pillar, re-sheathing his Qualta Blade "Agreed." He rumbled, kneeling to untie Ferra. Aeryn tossed Crichton a Pulse Pistol. He looked at it for a moment, a pensive look on his face.
"This doesn't feel right... Where's Winona?" He moved behind one of the other pillars covering the door, Aeryn shrugged, taking up the opposite position. As D'Argo got Ferra free, Crichton couldn't help but think "This is too easy..." He looked at Aeryn.
Her expression confirmed it... this WAS too easy.
"Pilot, any news from Chiana yet?" D'Argo's voice betrayed the concern he still felt for the young thief, as he guided Lo'La into the docking bay.
"No, Ka D'Argo, not yet." The slightly harassed tones of the ship's Pilot filtered through Lo'La's speakers. "Nothing since she took the Transport Pod down approximately three arns ago."
"Have you tried to contact her?" He knew that he must have done. The crew themselves had several times already, with no luck.
"Of course! However, I cannot pick up a signal from her comms, which means it's either deactivated or..." Pilot trailed off, knowing what he was implying. Besides Aeryn, Chiana was his closest friend on the crew.
"Keep trying, Pilot." Lo'La came in to a graceful landing in her customary place in the bay.
She awoke in a chair, dizzy. The world seemed to spin wildly around her. The mearest movement caused a bright bloom of pain in her head. Opening her eyes was almost unthinkable. Trying to raise her hands to her temples, to try to relieve some of the pain, and realised she couldn't, that cold, hard metal was pinning her arms down, to what felt like armrests on whatever chair she was sitting on. She tried cracking open her eyes again. The pain was less. She looked at her hands, tried to see what was pinning them down. Some sort of manicles held her, almost cutting off the flow of blood to her hands, the grey flesh turning slightly more pale, the fingers tingling, almost useless for her normal skills to be effective. Looking around, she saw that it was a bare metal room, only about twice her height in each direction. She was no door, but she could only see three walls, all bare, grey and shiny, no patterning. She only knew of one race that would design something so utterly boring...
Suddenly, there was a hissing sound behind her, a door opening. Footsteps clanked on the floor, slow and even, the practiced walk of a torturer, aiming to un-nerve even the coolest of captives.
"Well, my dear, I'm so glad to have you here." The voice was female, soft and seductive, seemeing to promise in it's every inflection that, provided it's instructions were met, then there would be no need for unpleasantness.
"You put up quite a fight, you know. Killed several of my guards." The footsteps continued around the chair, until a face came into view. Chiana knew it instantly.
"What the frell?" she exclaimed, eyes widened, mouth hung open in shock. It couldn't be!
She felt a pinprick, then blackness overtook her. The last thing she thought was "It can't be... it can't be!"
Half an arn later, D'Argo was waiting in the Command, sat looking pointlessly at the readouts on the panels, hoping for word about Chiana, when Pilot's crustacean-like face appeared in the Clamshell.
"D'Argo." He started, quickly. "Moya just sensed a ship leaving the planet. It's Nebari in design. We picked up a transmission."
"What did it say?"
"As far as we can tell, 'Target aquired'"
"Pilot, follow that ship. Now!" His jaw locked with determination. He would not let this happen.
"She was quite... insistant. I'm afraid I didn't have much choice."
D'Argo growled. This whole Captain gig just wasn't quite what he'd hoped for.
Chiana opened the transport pod hatch, the dusty air of the planet immediately drying her eyes. Checking her pulse pistol, she stepped out, boots crunching slightly on the gritty sand. "OK," She whispered, "For Nerri."
Sikozu opened up the dusty, grimy skylight, finally having caught a glimpse of the human. "Crichton!" She half called, half whispered through the opening. He looked up, squinting at the bright light in the dim room, startled. "Sputnik!" He turned his head to the grey figure on the chair nearby, who was looking up, her eyes wide and her mouth in an "O" of surprise. "See, I told ya my friends would be along." He looked back up to Sikozu. "Hey, can ya get down here and untie me?"
Before Sikozu could answer, the loud clank of the door lock echoed through the warehouse. She pulled her head back quickly, reaching for her Comms.
"D'Argo, I found him."
"So, you must be the famous John Crichton. It's a pleasure to meet you." His captor circled the pillar he was strapped to, looking at him closely. Before he could respond, she continued, her boots crunching on the gritty floor as she moved. "You know, you're turning into quite the legend in the Uncharted Territories. Destroying a Shadow Depository, a Gammak Base, and even a full Command Carrier." She paused in her circuit of the pillar, standing directly in front of him, looking him in the eyes, with a tilt to the head that made him think instantly of Chiana. "Funny, I never thought you'd be caught this easily."
He looked at her. "Listen, sweetheart, I've had bigger, grosser and more bad-ass nasties pick my brain, so let's just cut to the chase. What do you want from me?"
"My dear Crichton," she said, running a finger through his hair and chuckling. "Who said I wanted you?" She turned on her heal and walked away, the crunch-crunch of her boots marking her movements, even after she left Crichton's view. He heard Ferra struggle, gasp and call out in anger as the woman passed her, which was suddenly silenced by a ringing slap. Then the door clanked as it opened and closed again. Crichton let his head droop. Not he just had to hope Sikozu would be back.
Aeryn and D'Argo moved up the thin, dark alley, towards the rear entrance to the warehouse, weapons primed and ready. Peering around the corner, Aeryn counted three guards, two Sebaceans and a Luxan, all apparently mercenaries. She turned to D'Argo and nodded. They burst around the corner, weapons up. The guards saw them immediately, firing as soon as they rounded the corner. None of them saw the red-clad figure half-way up the wall. Within seconds, all three guards lay immobile on the dusty mini-dunes covering the floor in these little-used backstreets.
Crichton heard the door burst inwards, for a moment thinking that their captor had come back, then he realised that the sound was that of the door lock being ripped off it's mountings, the door itself banging against the wall. He couldn't see where the sounds was coming from, but he caught sight of Ferra's face, surprise written across her features. The young Nebari's mouth was open, her eyes wide. He tensed, waiting for the blow, the sting, whatever it was that would be coming. Instead, he heard a sharp clang, metal against concrete, and the tension binding his hands to the pillar was gone.
"Crichton, are you alright?"
"Aeryn? Yeah, I'm fine." He rubbed his wrists. The plastic-like bindings had caused deep red welts to come up where they had bitten into the flesh. "Listen, the guards hightailed it outta here not long ago. I think it would be a good idea not to be here when they get back."
D'Argo steeped from behind Crichton's pillar, re-sheathing his Qualta Blade "Agreed." He rumbled, kneeling to untie Ferra. Aeryn tossed Crichton a Pulse Pistol. He looked at it for a moment, a pensive look on his face.
"This doesn't feel right... Where's Winona?" He moved behind one of the other pillars covering the door, Aeryn shrugged, taking up the opposite position. As D'Argo got Ferra free, Crichton couldn't help but think "This is too easy..." He looked at Aeryn.
Her expression confirmed it... this WAS too easy.
"Pilot, any news from Chiana yet?" D'Argo's voice betrayed the concern he still felt for the young thief, as he guided Lo'La into the docking bay.
"No, Ka D'Argo, not yet." The slightly harassed tones of the ship's Pilot filtered through Lo'La's speakers. "Nothing since she took the Transport Pod down approximately three arns ago."
"Have you tried to contact her?" He knew that he must have done. The crew themselves had several times already, with no luck.
"Of course! However, I cannot pick up a signal from her comms, which means it's either deactivated or..." Pilot trailed off, knowing what he was implying. Besides Aeryn, Chiana was his closest friend on the crew.
"Keep trying, Pilot." Lo'La came in to a graceful landing in her customary place in the bay.
She awoke in a chair, dizzy. The world seemed to spin wildly around her. The mearest movement caused a bright bloom of pain in her head. Opening her eyes was almost unthinkable. Trying to raise her hands to her temples, to try to relieve some of the pain, and realised she couldn't, that cold, hard metal was pinning her arms down, to what felt like armrests on whatever chair she was sitting on. She tried cracking open her eyes again. The pain was less. She looked at her hands, tried to see what was pinning them down. Some sort of manicles held her, almost cutting off the flow of blood to her hands, the grey flesh turning slightly more pale, the fingers tingling, almost useless for her normal skills to be effective. Looking around, she saw that it was a bare metal room, only about twice her height in each direction. She was no door, but she could only see three walls, all bare, grey and shiny, no patterning. She only knew of one race that would design something so utterly boring...
Suddenly, there was a hissing sound behind her, a door opening. Footsteps clanked on the floor, slow and even, the practiced walk of a torturer, aiming to un-nerve even the coolest of captives.
"Well, my dear, I'm so glad to have you here." The voice was female, soft and seductive, seemeing to promise in it's every inflection that, provided it's instructions were met, then there would be no need for unpleasantness.
"You put up quite a fight, you know. Killed several of my guards." The footsteps continued around the chair, until a face came into view. Chiana knew it instantly.
"What the frell?" she exclaimed, eyes widened, mouth hung open in shock. It couldn't be!
She felt a pinprick, then blackness overtook her. The last thing she thought was "It can't be... it can't be!"
Half an arn later, D'Argo was waiting in the Command, sat looking pointlessly at the readouts on the panels, hoping for word about Chiana, when Pilot's crustacean-like face appeared in the Clamshell.
"D'Argo." He started, quickly. "Moya just sensed a ship leaving the planet. It's Nebari in design. We picked up a transmission."
"What did it say?"
"As far as we can tell, 'Target aquired'"
"Pilot, follow that ship. Now!" His jaw locked with determination. He would not let this happen.