|
Chapter
Three
Pilot watched
and worked. He couldn't really say he was enjoying himself, but
it was nice to see the crew not at eachothers throats, and happy
for once. He was surprised to discover just how much he liked
all of them. They were a little loud, and in many cases very
drunk, but he didn't mind too much. As long as they didn't make
it a regular occurrence. Over the arns since they had made there
escape from the Peacekeepers, he had come to understand these
strange beings. His species were not social creatures by nature,
and pilots in particular were familiar with isolation. Apart
form Moya, he had never had anyone he could relate to. Now, virtually
all around the table shared a bond with him. It felt nice to
be part of something. Friendship, Commander Crichton had once
told him, that it is the greatest gift any person can ever have.
'Forget currency, forget love, forget fame. If you haven't got
friends you can rely on, trust and share the horrors of your
life with, then life can be very traumatic indeed.' Crichton
was often a wise being, and often a complete mystery, and more
often than that, just plain odd. The others often missed the
Commanders wisdom. Aeryn knew.
At that moment
though, Pilot would have happily had Commander Crichton elsewhere.
He was singing. Or attempting too. An old earp song. It was awful!
jammin',
jumba's and jepsalas...
"Is this
Bob Marley very popular on your planet, John," Zhaan asked,
a hint of amusement twinkling in her eyes.
"We're
jammin'....I wanna jam it with you...." John continued,
lost in the moment.
"Please
stop," Aeryn grimaced. "I think I'd prefer half an
arn in the Aurora chair."
"No!"
yelped Stark. "That isn't very nice, I'm afraid. Not very
nice, at all."
John nodded, still singing.
"Yes,
but this is torture in itself," Aeryn continued.
John ignored
them. "We're jammin'....jammin'....and i hope you like jammin'
too..."
"Why don't
we play that other game, John," offered D'Argo, smiling
and grimacing.
John halted.
"Oh, so you want to play now?"
"Yes,
John." blurted Chiana. "Anything but this." She
smiled sweetly.
"Truth
or dare," confirmed D'Argo. "Sounds a promising game
to me."
"Okay,
I get your point." John acquiesced.
"Is there
anymore food?" Rygel interjected.
"All gone,"
revealed Stark.
"Are all
your stomachs not full enough?" asked Aeryn.
"Gone!"
Rygel snorted, turning his gaze to Chiana. "On my world,
it is considered very bad etiquette to leave your guests hungry."
Chiana smiled.
"And on my world slugs are considered vermin!"
Rygel glowered,
but said nothing.
John leapt
to his feet. "Alright them, as games co-ordinator elect,
lets get this show on the road. Yo, Pilot! You first."
Pilot, head
down, pretended to not hear the human.
"Pilot!"
Pilots large
golden eyes rolled upwards. "Yes, Commander."
"It's
your turn, big guy. And call me John, will ya!"
"Yes...John.
Do I have to participate?"
"Yes,
Pilot," Zhaan added, looking better as the evening passed.
"It would be unfair of us not to let you participate."
Pilot sighed.
"Very well, then. I choose truth."
Chiana clapped
her hands. D'Argo bellowed with laughter.
"Truth
it is. Any one got a question?" John said, smiling broadly.
"I have,"
came the reply from Rygel.
Pilot sighed.
"Okay,
Sparky, you're up."
Rygel cleared
his throat. "On Hyneria, it is customary for a Dominar to
be crowned at TheVestern, but what three offerings must the Dominar-elect
make before he is allowed to enter?"
"Say what?"
John blurted.
"I don't
think its supposed to be that kind of question, Rygel,"
Aeryn offered.
"Why not?'
came Rygel's disgruntled reply. "Just because you don't
know the answer. Does that mean I win?"
"No!"
John muttered. "Ignore that, Pilot. Anyone else got a question?"
Pilot coughed.
"But I know the answer, Com-. John."
"That's
beside the point, Pilot."
"Why is
it?" Rygel grumbled.
"These
Earp games do seem a little strange, John," Zhaan offered.
"I think
we've been through this already," John said, his cheeks
reddening.
"The answer
is," began Pilot anyway. "A lock of hair from the Hynerians
brow. A vial of his blood. And his Jumba."
"He's
right," muttered Rygel. "How'd you know that?"
"I know
a lot of things, Dominar," Pilot responded, feeling very
pleased with himself.
"Okay,
stupid human here. But what's a Jumba?"
"A Jumba
is a kind of house pet each Hynerian is given on their birth.
The higher your status, the bigger your Jumba," Pilot continued
haughtily.
"So you
killed your dog?" John asked, turning to Rygel.
"Not a
dog," Rygel corrected. "A Jumba."
"But why?"
"Because
it is a offering."
"To who?"
"I don't
know," Rygel shrugged. "It's just they way we do things."
"So this
Jumba, how big was yours?"
Rygel smiled.
"My family were very prominent. My Jumba second in size
only to Rygel I's."
"What,"
John continued. "We talking as big as you?"
Rygel harrumphed.
"Only the lowliest of my subjects were unfortunate to have
such a small Jumba."
"So?"
urged Chiana.
Rygel paused,
enjoying his captive audience. "Well, you know how big Moya
is? Times that by three and you might have an idea."
Everyone sat
in stunned silence.
John was the
first to speak. "You kept it in your house?"
Rygel nodded.
"And you
killed it? Or offered it?" John continued.
Rygel nodded
and smiled.
"By yourself?"
Aeryn said, finally finding her voice.
Rygel laughed.
"I have never had to do anything for myself."
"What
the hezmana with?" John asked.
"Mostly
we poison them,' Rygel informed. "Too messy to do it the
old way."
"The old
way?" Aeryn followed, feeling strangely queazy.
"Yes,"
continued Rygel. "Terrible mess it used to make. I remember
as a boy when Hezzat IX was crowned, it was the last time they
used the old ways. Smell was awful. Lasted for monens."
Aeryn gulped.
"Does that not seem a little wasteful?"
Rygel harrumphed.
"Nothing is wasted. The meat is trimmed and given out to
the masses, as a sign of the Dominar's generosity." He smiled
serenely.
"That
seems fair," Aeryn continued. "But I bet you keep the
choice cuts!"
"Never!"
Rygel blustered. "I wouldn't touch Jumba meat. Frelling
awful stuff! Yeuuchhh!"
"Lucky
masses," said D'Argo.
"They're
happy enough," Rygel replied.
John, who had
spent much of the last thirty microts staring into space, suddenly
snapped out back into focus. "Yeah! Great, okay. We'll take
Pilot as have being done already, so that means it's you next
D'Argo."
"Why me!?"
responded the Luxan.
"It just
is!"
"That
does not seem fair," D'Argo insisted. "Surely as Stark
is closest he should be next."
"Is it
my turn?" piped Stark.
"No!"
John groaned.
"Your
turn?" Stark followed, his face perplexed.
"No! No!
No!" John repeated, his hands balled. "It is D'Argo
next. Okay?"
"Fine
by me," smiled Rygel.
"Go, D'Argo,"
chimed Chiana, her gaze unwavering under the withering ocular
assault that followed from the Luxan.
"Yes,
dear D'Argo," Zhaan offered, "I await your turn with
much anticipation."
D'Argo raised an eyebrow. "Very well, it is my turn."
John clapped.
Rygel chortled.
"I've
got a question," Chiana followed instantaneously.
"No!"
D'Argo responded vehemently. "Not her!"
"What
you scared or something?" Chiana retorted, smiling and cocking
her head.
D'Argo fumed, but said nothing.
"Look,"
John placated. "Big guy. Pip. Lets just try to have some
fun here, okay."
Both parties
reluctantly nodded.
"Now,
Chiana," John continued. "Nothing saucy, okay."
Aeryn smiled
crookedly. "Saucy? What does that mean?"
John sighed.
"It means of a delicate sexual nature."
"Like
me!" heralded Chiana.
"You were
never delicate," D'Argo grumbled.
Aeryn burst
out laughing. The others were either smiling, or keeping their
heads down.
"I was
too!" responded Chiana.
D'Argo smiled
humourlessly. "I still have the bruises. I can show them
to everyone here, if you'd like. Oh, and lets not forget about
the bite marks."
Chiana smiled.
"Alright, you've got me. I admit it. I'm a big, saucy tralk!"
"Amen
to that," said John, lifting his glass.
"But we
do have an objective witness here," Chiana continued, turning
her had and smiling at Pilot.
Pilot looked
back. His prominent brows dropping.
"Well?"
Chiana urged.
Pilot paused,
gathering his thoughts together. "I would like to state
for the record, once again, that I have no point used the DRD's
to spy on another member of this crew."
"Yeah
right!" laughed Chiana.
"We believe
ya, President Clinton," John followed.
Pilot looked
positively insulted. "What possible reason could I have
for wanting to observe your murky private practices!?'
"Murky?"
Aeryn replied, smiling. "That's one way of putting it."
"So, what?"
Chiana said. "How do they do it Pilot World, then?"
Why, and how, did I get involved in this? though Pilot. "I
have no wish to discuss such matters."
"Come
on, Pilot!" called John.
"The,
um, 'goings-on' of my species are no concern for any of you,"
Pilot continued, unmoved.
"I bet
it's very odd to look at," spoke Stark. "What with
Pilots being so large and all."
"It is
not odd!" insisted Pilot.
"Tell
us, then Pilot," Zhaan said. "Are you ashamed of your
method of precreation?"
"I am
not ashamed!" Pilot responded. "It is just private.
I have not asked any of you to explain yours. So why me?"
"I could
tell you a few things if you want Pilot," Rygel replied,
grinning salaciously.
"Everyone
leave Pilot alone," said Aeryn. "He doesn't want to
talk about it, then that's his choice."
"Thank
you, Officer Sun," responded Pilot.
"The question
is answered, now lets move on!' Aeryn continued.
"Good,
now that's all cleared up," John interjected. "D'Argo?
Truth or dare?"
D'Argo glanced
at Chiana. "Truth!"
Chiana smiled.
"Okay, baby. If you had to kiss anyone here, who would it
be?"
D'Argo growled
menacingly.
"Better
not be frelling me!" Aeryn called, bursting into another
fit of giggles.
"Nor me!"
laughed the Hynerian.
Pilot shook
his head. What a strange collection of beings they were. Fancy
asking him about his species' method of procreation! Those days
were long behind him. In a way, he missed them. Oh well, the
life of a Pilot is a lonely one. But some days he longed to be
back in the pools at Yressia Komor. Perhaps, Jepsalas would still
be there for him. The things she could do with her claws.........
<prev
|
