FIC: Farscape, Disruption 4
We reached the marketplace without incident; as I suspected, it was quiet. The wide, four-sided plaza lay at the center of a labyrinth of small, winding streets - it was here that vendors from all over the city gathered each morning to sell their wares. But now, in the late afternoon, most of the vendors had closed up their stalls and gone. Except for a few half-packed piles of merchandise and a few merchants who had apparently spent what they'd earned on intoxicants, the square seemed deserted.
Sun and Crais were across the square; when they saw us, they headed in our direction, weaving their way through the empty stalls. Crichton moved forward, out of the narrow alley, Chiana close on his heels.
I hung back, peering out from the shadows of the buildings, scanning the square, looking for trouble. I found it before Crichton had taken five steps into the open marketplace. A group of Peacekeepers, lingering outside one of the drinking establishments that lined the square to our right. I saw one of them notice him, frown slightly - and then the frown faded into astonishment in a clear sign of recognition.
I didn't need more than that, only moved forward, reaching for Crichton, only to be stopped, held back by D'Argo. "What do you-?"
"He's been seen," I hissed. "Peacekeepers!"
His eyes widened, and he turned. Too late. The man I'd seen had his weapon out, was aiming at Crichton. Aeryn Sun had seen the danger as well, was already drawing her pulse pistol. "Crichton! Down!"
Everything exploded then. Crichton ducked, came up with his pistol in his hand; Sun fired, taking the Peacekeeper in the shoulder, knocking him back, sending his shot wild. Ahead of me, Chiana cried out, crumpled to the ground. Crichton moved to her side, still dangerously exposed. A pulse blast hit the ground near where Crichton and Chiana were huddled; Crichton's return shot missed.
The other soldiers had scattered, taking up positions in the alleyways around the square, and were all armed. Luckily, they were also all half drunk. Sun and Crais tried to move forward, only to have heavy pulse fire send them scurrying back to seek shelter by one of the deserted market stalls. Trapped, near the center of the square, in the worst possible position. At least it wasn't open ground.
D'Argo had his Qualta Blade out, and was moving forward.
"D'Argo!" I shouted. "I need-"
He snarled at me. "Stay out of this!"
"I need a weapon!"
He turned and fired, taking me by surprise. The blast from his Qualta Blade passed over my shoulder as I rolled and came up on my feet in one smooth motion. I was furious, didn't bother to hide it. "What the frell?!"
"You need a weapon?" D'Argo asked. "Take his."
Behind me was the crumpled form of a Peacekeeper. He'd gotten close. Too close. I threw the Luxan a fierce grin and moved quickly to strip the body of his weapons.
But even as I reached D'Argo's side, I knew backup was on its way. And even if they were substandard, back-planet troops, they had two advantages. There were too many of them, and they knew the ground too well.
D'Argo and I provided covering fire while Crichton brought Chiana back to the relative safety of the alley. As they ducked back between the buildings, the peacekeepers in the square turned their attention to Sun and Crais.
Beside me, Crichton was swearing steadily, incoherently. "Goddamn Cassandra complex, magic fucking eight ball, vision quest load of crap..."
Two choices. Make my allegiance to the Peacekeepers clear, and undo all the progress I'd made with Crichton and his friends. Or, stick by the fugitives, consolidate my position with them even further - and risk getting shot by my own people. A risk that increased the longer we stayed where we were.
Sun and Crais couldn't last much longer. Once they were taken care of, the soldiers would target us. And we'd be done for.
"We have to fall back!" Crichton didn't answer me, just kept firing. Stubborn man. "John, our position can't hold. They'll already be circling around to take us from behind."
Luckily, D'Argo agreed with me. "John, we have to retreat!"
"No!" Crichton protested. D'Argo grasped his arm, but Crichton wrenched himself free. "Not without Aeryn!"
"We're out of time!" I snapped. And it was true. In the square, Crais was down. Unconscious or dead, I couldn't tell. Sun was surrounded by soldiers, weaponless.
Not entirely weaponless, it turned out.
"Jenavian Chatto!" Her voice carried clearly across the compound. "Get Crichton to safety! I know I can trust you-" The Peacekeeper behind her swung his pulse pistol down, catching her in the side of the head - a moment later, she was sprawled out next to Crais.
Frell. I pushed down the sudden, fierce anger. I couldn't afford the distraction. "John!" I urged again, "D'Argo's right, we have to get out of here!"
"But..." he shook his head sharply, as if trying to clear it, and muttered, "Don't you start..."
"Don't argue!" I snapped between pulse blasts. "We can help them. But if we're captured, we're all dead!"
That got through to him, and he nodded once. His expression was again tight, contained, showing no sign of his momentary lapse. "Where?"
I held up a smoke grenade I'd snagged from the fallen soldier. "When this goes off. Back up the alley. Let me take the lead. Don't get separated."
"Jena-"
"Trust me, John. Please."
He hesitated a moment longer, his expression strangely distracted, then nodded.
The retreat worked well; under the cover of the smoke grenade, I led them down the narrow, twisting passageways, taking one turn after another.
Our sanctuary was a shuttered shop, far from the marketplace; I chose it for the relatively small size of the windows and the merchandise on offer. Carnathian prencilk wraps and drannit pelts were pricey enough that the owner probably sold to criminals, rather than acted as a front for them, so the place would be deserted after hours. The lock was an easy pick, and we were inside and barricaded in within 40 microts.
"Smooth work," Chiana commented. I threw her an amused glance.
"Coming from you, that's quite a compliment," I answered, and she laughed, only to have the laugh hitch over pain.
"Easy, Pip." Crichton had already pulled down a stack of the merchandise for a makeshift bed. D'Argo laid Chiana down on the soft pile, and Crichton knelt, examining the wound in her side. "How you doing?"
"Just fine. It's not bad."
"Okay," he said, turning to me and D'Argo. "We need to get Chiana back to Moya, and get Aeryn and Crais out of there. Any ideas?"
"John," D'Argo began, "You heard what Aeryn said-"
"Yeah, I heard her," Crichton spat. "And she's out of her frelling mind! I don't care if she isn't talking to me - she cannot seriously think I'm going to-"
D'Argo merely smiled patiently, shook his head. "No, she knows better. But what she has done is ensure that you will not go alone."
I was surprised at his perception. Crichton frowned, confused. I nearly laughed. Chiana was right. Men are stupid. But Aeryn Sun? Aeryn was smart.
She'd trapped me neatly. No getting around it. She knew Crichton would go in after her and Crais, and knew she couldn't prevent it. But now - now I had to go in with him. By naming Crichton, she hadn't given them anything that they didn't know already. She hadn't given them anything. Except me.
Oh, I could tell Command that I was just playing along and pretending to be an ally to the fugitives. Dance the line between what Command had ordered and what my division had instructed and try to satisfy them both. But she'd made it clear that she could and would tell her interrogators anything regarding me, anything at all. She could dig me a hole so deep that Command would never believe my protestations of duty, of loyalty. They'd add my name to the list after Aeryn Sun and Gilina Renaez, and my life as a Peacekeeper would be over.
But the beauty of Aeryn's maneuver was that it didn't matter. Even if I thought that Command would believe me, I had to act as if I didn't; otherwise, Crichton would know that I wasn't crossing lines to help him. I was hemmed in completely by the role I was playing. If I wanted to keep Crichton and the others believing that I was an ally, I had to maintain the illusion that the alliance put me at risk.
Crichton and D'Argo were looking at me, and I pulled myself together. D'Argo's smug expression was annoying; Crichton's uncertainty was more troubling. I couldn't have him uncertain about me. "Of course I'll help you, John," I said reassuringly. "We'll get them out." I closed my eyes briefly, thinking fast. "We should wait until dark. It's only a few arns-"
"A few arns and they could be dead," D'Argo protested.
"No," I countered. "They won't kill them. Not while there are still others out here to capture. They'll interrogate them, but nothing more."
"That's enough," Crichton snapped. "I'm not going to let them be tortured-"
"There's nothing you can do about it, John," I interrupted sharply, then laid a comforting hand on his arm. "If you go in now, unprepared, you'll be captured. And then they'll be killed, and you'll be sent to Scorpius. But do this right, and you can still save their lives."
Crichton turned away, and I saw D'Argo's face change. "It wasn't your fault, John."
"The hell it wasn't," Crichton answered back. "They recognized me, D'Argo. Me. Which means I got the inside scoop about trouble just in time to go and cause it. What kind of fucked-up Yuri Geller crap is that?"
"John-" Chiana began, but Crichton cut her off.
"Details, Chiana," he snapped. "Next time, I need details, or don't bother."
Chiana sucked in her breath, and Crichton's shoulders slumped. "Sorry, Pip. It's just... Okay. Just nothing. I'm a jerk."
"John..." D'Argo darted a nervous glance at me, then sighed. "We were supposed to meet them there in another quarter arn anyway. And those Peacekeepers weren't going anywhere. It would have changed nothing."
"You don't know that."
"I don't have to."
I was frowning, looking for some foothold of meaning, when Crichton took a deep breath and turned back to me. "Okay. I'm listening."
"Good. Our only chance to get them out is to go in under cover of darkness. They'll be all right." I sighed. "They won't interrogate them yet. They'll be put in a holding cell, held securely while the majority of the personnel search the town for us. Right now, we're in more danger than they are."
He didn't like it, but he was listening. I kept talking, voice quiet, firm. "D'Argo, you should take Chiana back to the transport pod, back to Moya."
"I will not leave Crichton," the Luxan protested.
What he meant was that he wouldn't leave Crichton with me, but Crichton sighed, shook his head. "Jena's right, D. We're going to be sneaking into a PK base, and as far as sore thumbs go, you're a doozy. Chiana can't walk back, and she can't stay here."
D'Argo growled, but had to accept it. "I will come back to retrieve you-"
"No," I disagreed. "They'll have locked down the transport areas - you'll never get clearance to land. We can find a ship ourselves. That will be the easy part."
"Okay," Crichton said. "We'll get you back to the pod-"
"No, John," D'Argo said reluctantly. I knew what he was going to say, could tell how much he hated it. "You should remain in concealment. If we travel together, it increases our chances of being discovered."
"Expecting trouble, Big Guy?" Crichton asked, his mouth twisting into a smile.
"Not on my behalf," D'Argo responded, looking at me. "If you betray him, Peacekeeper-"
"Relax, D'Argo. She's not going to-"
"Are you certain, John? This whole situation might have been avoided if she had told us about the base here."
"I didn't know!" I protested.
"I find that difficult to believe."
"It's not exactly a base, Luxan. More like a... backwater outpost. I can't be expected to keep track of every Peacekeeper in the Uncharted Territories." He didn't look convinced. "Look, I don't like this any more than you do. I was counting on staying on this planet. I can't, now. I'm stuck with you until the next commerce planet, and you're stuck with me, so you'd better get used to the idea."
D'Argo snarled, but turned away. Chiana was staring at me, her expression calm. I stared back, and she smiled suddenly. "Here." She detached her comm badge from the front of her coat, tossed it to me. "In case you get separated. I have a feeling you will."
Crichton opened the door, peered out. "All right, looks clear. I'll see you guys back on Moya."
"You make sure you do, Old Man," Chiana said with a wan smile as D'Argo scooped her up easily into his arms. Crichton grinned, gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, and closed the door behind them. Then he took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and moved back over to his position against the wall.
I eyed him calmly. "They'll be all right, John."
He smiled tightly. "I know. It's a cakewalk. No problem."
"It's us we need to worry about." I didn't move to approach him. No need to startle him. "We need to think of a plan."
"Any bright ideas?"
"I'm a Disruptor," I reminded him with a smile. "I'm full of bright ideas."
He grinned suddenly. "I'll bet you are."
I slipped back into our safehouse to find a pulse pistol leveled at my head.
"Relax, John. It's me."
He holstered his pistol, and handed me the flask of water. "So, what'd you find out?"
I'd managed to convince him to stay put while I scouted out the area. He hadn't liked it, but he hadn't really had a choice. After all, it was his face that was known from the wanted beacons spread throughout the Uncharted Territories - and after what had happened in the market square, he had to accept that he'd be recognized. And although I was genuinely impressed that these fugitives were still alive after three cycles, I was an expert at this, and didn't want an amateur along on a recon mission. I'd move faster and more quietly alone, and he knew it.
I was also an expert at getting information out of people - in a variety of ways. One of which was the use of pain and the threat of more pain. I had what we needed, and Crichton was probably just as happy not to know how I'd gotten it. Amazing he'd survived this long.
"The compound is beyond the market square," I told him. "There's a common transport area on the other side of the compound - we can pick a ship up there, once we get them out. I had a look at the site - two buildings, standard PK design. That means they're a lot like a Gammack Base."
"Well, that's pretty convenient." He sounded skeptical.
"Peacekeepers ship out prepared components for our personnel to assemble and inhabit. It leads to a certain uniformity of design."
"Not big on supporting local craftsmen, huh?"
I looked at him in surprise. "Allow locals to construct our bases? The odds of sabotage would be overwhelming."
"Right. So we're looking at Gammack Mark Two here?"
"Hardly. This is a very limited presence. The upper shell will be two levels, most likely over a series of sublevels dug in underground, no telling how many until we get inside. One of the buildings is a storage facility, the other's the base. They'll be in the base."
"How do we get in?"
"I can break through the security codes. It shouldn't take me more than 60 microts, even if they're top level - and I don't think there's a chance of that."
"And once we're in?"
Under the circumstances, it was the best we could come up with. A simple classic loud diversion to draw off most of the base personnel, then a fast infiltration. Not much of a plan, but as much of a plan as we could invent, given the limited time and information we had. One recon mission, little inside information, no enemy count, no support. No preparation. Not my favorite kind of situation. But if we went in quiet, and fast, we'd be able to handle it.
Crichton responded well to my guidance, and was listening to me, despite D'Argo's open distrust. Time, perhaps, to consolidate our relationship a little more? I can't say I was displeased at the prospect. After Clavor, and J'atris, and the others like them - who could begrudge me an assignment that I actually enjoyed?
"Nothing to do now but wait," he said, sighing and running a hand through his hair.
"Nothing?" I asked, moving to kneel in front of where he was crouched against the door.
He smiled uncomfortably. "Jena..."
"We have at least an arn before we can move from this place. We might as well use it constructively."
"I would think a nap would be constructive."
"So would taking off the edge. Working off some nervous energy that might make us frell up. Clearing our heads."
"It isn't a good idea."
"Oh?" I leaned forward, placing my hands squarely on his knees. "It's been known to work before."
He shook his head slightly. "Look, Jena, it's not that I'm not tempted-"
"Tempted?" I laughed, low in my throat, the husky sound that I knew worked on men of many species. I saw the sudden warmth in his eyes, knew it worked on him, too. "I'd say more than tempted." I moved my hands higher, curving them downward, running them across his inner thighs. I didn't miss the heavy flicker of his eyelids, the slightest gasp of indrawn breath. I smiled lazily. "How long has it been, John? Since someone touched you like this?" I ducked my head in, close. "Don't tell me that I was your last?"
"Jena, stop this-"
I didn't. "Is this about Aeryn?"
"You could... could say that. She's in a cell right now, Jena, and even if she wasn't-"
"It didn't stop you before." My hands were still moving, kneading, teasing. I was fully aware of how good I was at this. I'd been trained to be good, after all.
"We were... unsettled before. Things weren't... um... decided." He was having a hard time concentrating, I could tell, and I felt a twinge of triumph. Just a little bit more...
I breathed a laugh against his neck. "And things are decided now?" One hand continued its progression on his thigh, the other went to the side of his face, fingers at his neck, at that spot right below his ear...
His eyes closed, head tilted into my hand as if I'd pressed a mechanical control. But he was still arguing. "Things are... complicated."
"More complicated than they were on the Royal Planet?" Small fingers under the ear, thumb stretching down to caress the hollow at the base of his throat. Stroke lightly, feel the throbbing of blood under the skin, judge his reaction by how quick the pulses were. Fluttering, fast. That's it, Crichton...
He swallowed with difficulty and laughed, a lovely, rueful laugh. "As hard as it might be to believe? Yeah. Makes the Royal Planet look like Connect-the-Dots."
"Well, this isn't complicated. This is very uncomplicated. Just what we both need. Don't you want something simple? Something that's exactly what it seems to be? Something you don't have to figure out?" I moved forward, closed the last whisper of distance. His mouth was sweet, strong, supple... this was familiar. Simple. Comfortable. I was right. This was exactly what we needed. And he responded, in that way he had of going from soft to passionate, yielding to aggressive in the space between breaths. One hand went to my hip to pull me hard against him, the other to the back of my neck, fingers twisting in my hair. I remembered this...
He leaned back slightly, gasping for air. "Oh, god, what am I-?"
I didn't give him a chance to pull away, following, lips finding his neck, just below the jawline. Just where I knew he liked it, working my way across his throat to that sensitive spot under his ear. It wasn't fair of me, I knew it. I knew that he was a skilled and enthusiastic lover, that he enjoyed sex. Well, so did I. It didn't have to be any more complicated than that. And he'd been denied too long. Easy prey for someone who knew what they were doing, who was also skilled and enthusiastic. I felt a shiver of excitement, a warmth spreading through me as his tongue traced the curve of my upper lip. Oh, yes, I definitely remembered this.
My hands pulled at his shirt, slid underneath to touch bare skin, warm and soft. He jolted, as if hit by an electric shock, then groaned and moved quickly to grasp my wrists, hold them immobile. He rested his forehead against mine for a long moment, taking gulping breaths, collecting himself.
"Man," he said, his voice husky, unsteady, "I can just hear every guy I've ever met in my entire life calling me an idiot." He took another deep breath, pulled back and looked at me. "Jena, this is not gonna happen."
I stared at him for a long moment, evaluating. He meant it. I was having a hard time breathing myself, for some reason. "John-"
"I'm sorry," he said, looking genuinely contrite. "I should have stopped this sooner. I didn't mean to-"
"To what? Lead me on?" I grinned. "I'm a big girl. I'll get over it."
But I couldn't help the curl of disappointment in my belly. The scent of his skin, the taste of him, had brought back delightful memories. That he would pull away - I hadn't expected it. It stung my pride - although I did take a certain satisfaction at the fact that his face was flushed, his breath uneven, his grip on my wrists somewhat desperate. To restrain me, or himself, or a bit of each - either way, it was obvious that pulling away had cost him.
Good. I'd hate for it to be easy for him.
For a moment, I was tempted to push it, to pursue him. I had no doubt that his memory was as sharp as mine. Given time and space and the luxury to draw him in, I could have done it. But with the situation as it was, with a deadline looming, he'd be just as likely to hold out. And I don't beg for any man.
"So," I said, leaning back. "What was the second choice? A nap?"
He grinned self-consciously. "Yeah. I'll take watch, if you-"
I shook my head. "You sleep, I'll watch. After all, you need it more than I do." I said it with a deliberate twist of my lips, knowing that he'd understand the double meaning to my words.
He chuckled ruefully, shook his head. "I certainly won't argue with you on that one, Jena." He leaned his head back against the wall, closed his eyes. But only for a microt. He grinned. "I've got a better idea. What say you give me a crash course on penetrating PK security codes? It might come in handy for what's ahead of us."