It might be MASSIVE overkill, but still . . .

That wormhole near the dead Leviathan outside is going to "erupt", possibly not only swallowing her but this Command Carrier as well . . .

Meanwhile, back inside the TARDIS....

Sigin

"Kinda . . . over-equipped for the upcoming game, aren't ya?" Crichton asks Inquirer, who's making last minute adjustments to one very visible piece of gear. "I mean, good Gawd!"

It is rather amazing that Inquirer had had any time to learn how to correctly bring what she's now wearing online, considering how busy she and the Doctor had been making sure misunderstandings and such aboard the Defiant didn't flair up into bloody conflicts. I myself had been the one to download the "specs" garnered from the transporter logs and B'Elanna who'd done the replication job (which had nearly depleted everything the unit had in into make what Inquirer now has), but there is a long way between HAVING and being able to USE such a thing.

The Doctor is NOT likely to be exactly thrilled about this, but then again when Crichton here was getting "squirrelly" with the possible upcoming rescue, saying that HE wanted to pitch in . . . . Inquirer had taken measures to show that his aid was neither required (nor exactly desired).

A Marauder Suit (replicated from Rico's transporter logs) would usually hardly be suitable for a rescue mission which aims for ZERO enemy casualties (something we all agreed to aim for before we even started on this Quest). However, all the lethal weaponry has been replaced with non-lethal "crowd control" devices (tear gas, etc) so that's something. Inquirer, if things go to Blazes and we (with Inquirer in the lead and us Champions bringing up the rear, casting spells left and right) will try to take on the ENTIRE forces of one Command Carrier (or as many as can be had in whatever room we have to fight into and out of).

Well . . . I do hope that it doesn't come down to THAT. Even with everything, we'd still be facing LONG odds.

"Alright," Crichton sighs, throwing up his hands and sighing. "It'll be John Crichton, Astronaut and Stay in the TARDIS kind of Companion . . .

"For now!" he adds meaningfully. "Promise to my wife or not . . . "

"Okay," Inquirer says, seeming to agree with John (but in reality I know from that tone it'll be over her dead body that John will put himself in harms way).

"Right," John mutters, shaking his head. "Power armor? What next, will it be where robo-maiden here rescues a blonde girl here from acid blooded aliens? Will it be said soon: 'Get away from her, you b*tch!'"

Mutters a few more things that related to Syg . . . I mean one of Inquirer's favorite movie, Aliens.

. . . .

I hope to Heaven that that's not some kind of crossover we'll have here . . .

. . . .

Anwyay, as for promises Inquirer made, she had pledged to "our" Crichton's wife to keep him safe. Pledged to Aeryn Sun that John here would arrive back alive and well.

She takes her promises VERY seriously . . . Know that for a fact from long association, my friend.

AS it turns out, things DO go a bit "screwy"

1. Bit of running and screaming occurs. Yelling. Pain! It, however, is not the way we'd feared. Not pleasant, but . . . .

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