Much to my delight, the muses, who have been a little bit derelict lately, presented me with an idea for a story for this year's Terra Firma Beach Bash circus theme! I had a great time playing in season 2 for the first time in a long time! Many thanks to Crash, ShipsCat, and MadScientist for suggestions and drive-bys at various stages of completion, and thanks to the Bunnies in general for some discussion about Luxan physiology.
Rating: G
Setting: mid-season 2
Spoilers: nothing specific, but some general character bits up to that point
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this universe, but I sure love them! No money being made, I'm just playing with them for everyone's amusement, and I mean no harm!
One of Those Days....
Crichton was in the maintenance bay, his hands and his attention deep in the innards of the Farscape 1 module. He barely noticed the grumbling from Rygel, hovering near him on his thronesled. Through a combination of threats and bribery, he'd managed to elicit the Hynerian's help reaching into a few tight corners. At the moment, Rygel was on standby.
Angry voices intruded from the corridor, though John tried to blank them out.
"You tralk!" Aeryn bellowed from somewhere nearby. "When I get my hands on you...."
Pip rushed into the room, followed by Aeryn, who, John saw when he lifted his head from his work, had her pulse pistol in her hand.
He suppressed a sigh, thinking, "What is it
this time?"
Chiana scooted over and positioned herself behind John – and typical Chi, she stood close enough that he could feel the tension in her body. But she really didn't seem all that scared, even though Aeryn was obviously furious, so he decided to wait to see the drama play out. If and when Aeryn actually aimed the pulse pistol, he'd think about intervening....
"Crichton!" Chiana breathed. "You gotta help me! It was an accident!"
"That's right, coward! Hide behind the human!"
"Aw, come on, Aeryn, give me a break! It's just a beat-up old prowler!"
With a snarl of anger, Aeryn lunged. Pip leaped across the room to one of the other doors, and the chase was on again.
Rygel, who'd vanished at the first sign of trouble, reappeared from underneath a workbench.
John was just irritated enough to call the Hynerian on his behavior. "That's something you don't see every day," he began, intending to finish with, "You, hiding."
"The Peacekeeper gunning for the tralk?" Rygel interrupted dryly.
John had every reason to believe that Sparky was deliberately diverting him, but he couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. "Yeah,
that's a rare occurrence around here," he agreed. "Now let's get back to this job. I need you to attach this connector way back there." He pointed towards a spot in the back of the module's engine compartment.
"I'm a Dominar, not an electrician," Rygel grumbled as he floated over, and looked more than a little affronted when John collapsed in laughter.
Protesting the whole time, the Hynerian made the requested connection, and backed off to his waiting position again while John tested the circuit. John kept half an eye on him, because he had no doubt that Rygel would take the first opportunity to sneak off. There was another interruption from the corridor, as D'Argo strode into the bay, with Zhaan at his heels.
"Hey, D," John greeted him abstractedly. "Zhaan," he added. "What's up?" he asked, not really expecting an answer.
The Luxan snorted. "I am looking for a ruuken knife. I need to make a small modification on my shilquen to improve the sound. It is a very delicate process, and I require the proper tool." He began to rummage through a tool chest on one of the counters. After a pause, he continued, "
Zhaan is being annoying."
"D'Argo, I merely offered—"
D'Argo turned to Zhaan and said bluntly, "I said, No." He deliberately turned his back on the Delvian priest, and buried his nose almost literally in the tool box.
The sharpness of D'Argo's tone brought John's attention to bear on the two newcomers. Zhaan, he noticed, carried a small crystal vial in her hands.
"But D'Argo, I have created this cleansing oil especially to remove tattoos from Luxan skin. There is nothing to fear."
"I am
not afraid!"
Zhaan and D'Argo glared at each other in temporary silence.
John was distracted from the current entertainment when a whole line of DRD's came scooting through the bay, eyestalks waving, with Chiana on their tail. Whether she was following them intentionally, or had run into a chain gang Pilot had pressed into service for some kind of repairs, was hard to tell. "Shoo, shoo!" she shouted, letting out a sharp squeak as she zigged to avoid tripping over the nearest one, and then zagged to miss its buddy.
What the heck?
No sooner had Chiana disappeared again out another door, then Aeryn came barreling in. She skidded to a halt in the middle of the bay, and everyone turned to look at her. Breathing hard, she waved her pulse pistol in the air and demanded, "Which way did they go?"
Silently, Crichton, Zhaan, D'Argo and Rygel all pointed to the door through which Chiana had vanished.
"Thank you," Aeryn said, and with another gulp of air, took off in hot pursuit.
Into the silence, D'Argo gestured to his chin and growled, "I do not wish these tattoos removed."
Zhaan looked at him with something approaching pity. Not a good start, John thought. "D'Argo," she began, "I understand that these marks reflect your great respect for the Luxan general whose life you saved through impersonation. But because they also represent a deceit, they cause you great emotional pain. You need not wear the badge of shame any longer." She reached to touch the tattoos on his chin, and he batted her hand away with a snarl.
"You are not a warrior. You have not earned the right to discuss such things! And you do
not understand."
Anger sparked in Zhaan's eyes, but she kept it reined in. Putting her hands together in front of her, she bowed her head and said through gritted teeth, "As you wish...." She turned and left the room, radiating disapproval. John would have bet real money, if he'd had any, that this wasn't the last D'Argo was going to hear about the topic, but that was D's problem, not his. With Zhaan gone, D'Argo quickly found the tool he had been looking for, and stalked out of the room.
John was just getting his head wrapped back around the layout of the circuit he'd been working on when Pilot called. "Commander, Officer Sun and Chiana are scaring the DRD's."
Aw, shi— "Don't worry about 'em, Pilot. Aeryn's only pissed at Chi, not the DRD's. She won't hurt her." Much. If Pip really had damaged Aeryn's prowler, then she deserved whatever Aeryn did to her. That was just about the one thing Aeryn owned that she truly prized, and Chiana knew it.
"If you say so." Pilot's voice was dubious.
"I say so," John said firmly, hoping he was right. He was about to go back to his work when a soothing voice came over the comms.
Apparently undeterred by the failure of her attempts to "help" D'Argo, Zhaan unexpectedly entered the Aeryn-Chiana conflict. "No worries, Pilot. I'm on my way. I'm sure Aeryn can be made to see reason."
This cheerful announcement was greeted by several moments of stunned silence all around. John was wondering what Zhaan had been smoking when Pilot cleared his throat and said, voice edging higher in what sounded like near panic, "Commander Crichton?"
"Oh, no, Pilot," he said, shaking his head vigorously. "No way I'm getting in the middle of that! And I suggest you follow the same course."
With a sigh, Pilot agreed.
Giving up temporarily on getting any work done, John dropped his tools into the seat of the module. "You know, Sparky," he said, turning to his erstwhile helper, "some days it's a real circus around here."
"What's a sir-kis?"
"Ah, it's a show, entertainment for kids," John said. "They've got clowns, and acrobats, and death-defying acts like trapeze artists and tightrope walkers, and lion tamers."
The last part either puzzled Rygel, or sparked his interest. "What's a lion tamer?"
"A lion is a large cat. A really large cat. With claws and teeth, and...well, it's a predator, a meat-eater." John thrust his hands in Rygel's direction, fingers curled, miming large claws on the attack. "So, you know, it eats things the size of people in its natural environment. The lion tamer gets into a cage with it and gets it do tricks for the audience, without it eating him." It was lame, but it was the best he could do on short notice. It had been a very long time since he'd been to the circus.
"Ah. That sounds like the Tasmien Festival. One of my favorite holidays," Rygel rumbled.
Curious in spite of the fact that he
knew that whatever Rygel's festival was, it would be made out to be far superior to anything merely human, John asked, "What's that?"
"The Tasmien Festival is a celebration of the reign of the first Dominar. It's one of the primary celebrations of the Hynerian calendar." Rygel went on to describe an arena where traitors to the Empire were brought face to teeth with a large dangerous critter that made John think of the rancor that had almost eaten Luke Skywalker in "The Empire Strikes Back."
It sounded like a bullfight. Or.... "That's more like bread and circuses, Sparky."
"Bread? Of course not! How plebian! But, there is plenty of cake, and of course, marjoules! Marjoules heaped so high one couldn't see over the pile..." Rygel smiled fondly at the memory.
John hated to ask, but, "What about the enemies of the people? Any of 'em ever survive?"
"Of course not. They're enemies. Guards are stationed to take care of any who might have evaded the tambor."
John shook his head. He'd known better than to ask.
"Rygel!" D'Argo bellowed from down the corridor. "Where is that no good...."
Without further ado or a by your leave, Rygel scooted.
John muttered under his breath, "Told ya. Barnum and Bailey." He looked back and forth for a while, scanning the maintenance bay and waiting for the next intrusion. Any microt there would be another shout, a scream, gunfire.... Huh. Nothing. All was quiet. The circus was apparently out of town, for the moment.
He shook his head and turned back to his module, whistling as he worked.
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