Pip

"I'm telling you, Chiana, it's too dangerous to go out there looking for him now! Once they're done with him in the Aurora Chair, they'll put him into a cell, and I'll be able to find out where he is and patch into the security system to speak with him."

Crichton's little blonde PK tech friend sounds more like she's trying to convince herself to wait than she is me. Oh, yeah, she's got it for him bad. I know the signs. I've certainly introduced enough men to those symptoms.

But I'm worried about him, too, if only because I've got a much better chance of getting off this frelling rock if we're together. Plus, Aeryn'll likely kill me if I come back without him. And coming back without that tissue sample will likely kill Aeryn.

Frell. Remind me again why I wanted to come on this mission in the first place?

"But what about those explosions?" I say. "We don't know what's happening out there."

"Communications are--" she starts to say. But we've been over this. Temporarily disrupted. Can't find out what's going on. Wait until things get sorted out. Until they finish messing with Crichton's mind and throw whatever's left of him into a cell. Frell that.

"Look, I'm not asking for excuses, here. I'm just saying. For all we know, those explosions are his attempt at a distraction. In which case, we should go now and look for him."

"Look for who?" comes a familiar voice behind me.

I turn and see, standing in the opening door--

"Crichton!" I jump up into his arms, giving him my best glad-to-see-you hug. Well, all right, maybe not my best hug...

"John!" exclaims Gilina, a beat behind. I back off to let her get her own hug in, but she's too busy being all awkward and surprised. "How... How did you escape?"

"That's a damned good question," he says.

Suddenly, I notice two more people standing in the doorway behind him.

"Crichton," I say, drawing out his name. "Who are your friends?"

"Oh, so you can see them, too," he says. "That's good to know." This being Crichton, I can't quite tell whether or not he's joking. "Pip, Gilina, this is the Doc and the Brig."

Two older guys, not too terribly bad-looking, I suppose, but not really my type. They look Sebacean, but they're not dressed like Peacekeepers. That one white-haired one definitely isn't dressed like a Peacekeeper. Judging by the way they scowl slightly at Crichton's introduction, I suspect he's already pegged them with nicknames, and I'll have to find out what they're really called later.

"Pleased to meet you," I purr. It always pays to be friendly. Well, at least until it doesn't.

"I gotta sit down for a minute," says Crichton, and perches on the end of one of Gilina's work benches. He really looks terrible.

"You really look terrible," I say.

"John, what's going on?" Gilina seems kind of close to losing it. Well, relief will do that do you sometimes. "What were those explosions?"

"Damned if I know."

Never mind the explosions. I'm trying to keep my mind on the reason we came here in the first place. "You got the tissue sample?"

"You mean this tissue sample?" The non-frilly guy -- "the Brig" -- holds up the injector-gadget with a slightly smug look on his face.

"That would be the one."

"I managed to hide it in a niche on the wall before I got captured," says Crichton. "These, uh, people and their friends were kind enough to help me get it back."

"Great," I say. "Does that mean we can get out of here now?"

"I think that would be an exceptionally prudent idea," says the frilly guy. "This way!" And he scoots off down the corridor.

Crichton rises to follow him.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Gilina whispers to him. "Do you trust these people?"

He shrugs. "Well, they seem to have been on my side so far, which is more than you can say for most of the rest of the universe."

So we follow them down the corridor. At least it's better than waiting forever cooped up in here...

1. Elsewhere...

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