Disclaimer: Not mine. I'm just playing. I'll put'em back when I'm done.

Rating: NC-17 (for rape)

Synopsis: John takes a little trip to a planet called Xata to burn off some energy and runs into way more trouble than he can handle.

Onboard Moya

It had been a long, long day and everybody was tired enough to drop. Aeryn felt that she especially had given her all in once again avoiding detection by the Peacekeepers seeking to destroy them and she felt that overwhelming fatigue that followed in the footsteps of such actions. Combined with that she hadn't slept very much the night before, it had left her in dire need for some downtime. The reason for her lack of sleep made her smile a little while she stretched out on her bunk in languid ease. John might not be too smart, compared to Peacekeeper standards, but he had other talents that made up for that.

"Hey, Aeryn. What are you doing?"

He also had other more annoying habits, like the fact that he never let her get any decent rest. Rolling over on her back, she blinked sleepily up at him. "I am trying to sleep, in case you hadn't noticed. Why don't you do the same? We could all use some downtime right around now."

He dropped down on the edge of her bunk on one knee, leaned in and kissed her. "Nah, I'm too fired up. I'm going down to Xata, see if I can find something interesting to do," he replied.

Aeryn slipped a hand behind his neck and pulled him back down for another kiss. "And what if I asked you to stay?" she whispered. "You never know what might happen."

He planted another kiss on her forehead. "Baby, all you wanna do right now is sleep. And you deserve it after all the hard work you've done. So, I'll just leave you alone for a bit, okay?"

That made her smile again. Annoying as he could be at times, he was a lot more considerate than any other male she had met before. "Right. Stay out of trouble, alright? I don't want to have to come to your rescue again," she told him.

He grinned crookedly. "Yes, mommy," he promised her. "Now, get some sleep. See you later." With that he took off again.

Aeryn draped an arm over her face and sighed. Sometimes he reminded her of an over-excited child. With that thought on her mind, she rolled back onto her side and drifted off to sleep.


On Xata

Xata was, much like any other commerce world he had been on over the past three cycles, a busy place. All types of aliens mingled in the hectic capital and John nearly felt overpowered by the chroma of this place. Not that he disliked the feeling, it got his adrenaline pumping and he felt a little high on account of it. There wasn't much happening in the ways of the action he was actually seeking, which was some type of party where he could get obscenely drunk and get his mind off things for awhile, but that didn't matter much when it came down to it. Xata was just the kind of place he needed to visit for some much needed R&R. Of course, his idea of R&R differed a lot from what Aeryn thought.

That made him smile while he picked up a fruit that looked familiar from one of the stands, tossed the owner the credits needed in passing, and went on his merry way, watching the commotion with a detached kind of pleasure. It still got to him sometimes that he was so far away from home, surrounded by all this weirdness. Fortunately for him, he looked like a Sebacean, which gave him the ability to blend in quite easily without raising suspicion.

In passing, something caught his eye and he made an appreciative sound and back-stepped to the stand displaying various types of perfumes and other exotic merchandise. "Hey, this is nice," he said, mostly to himself, and picked up a bottle of three different colors of liquid, which were divided, although clearly not by any specific separation. "Hey, shop-keep," he said, turning his attention to the oddly shaped alien shop keeper. The being was very long and very thin with ten sets of arms all the way along its body and one optic extension at the top. "What's this called?"

"Clahn'da," the creature said through a small opening at the very top of its body. "Special essence for your love."

That made John grin mischievously. "Cool," he muttered. "What's it do?" he wanted to know.

The shop keeper's twenty hands clasped together. "Heightens pleasure. You like? I have more. In back," it said, waving to the back of its shop. "Different colors, different strengths," it added.

"Really?" John asked, intrigued. This might make a perfect addition to the little têtê-a-têtê he had planned for with Aeryn when he got back to Moya. "Well, let me have a look," he suggested and followed the shop keeper into the back.

The being pulled a curtain apart to show him into a room behind the shop. "Is plenty to choose from," it whistled, letting him walk ahead.

The room behind the curtain was dark and for a moment, he couldn't see anything. Then various colors slowly oozed out of the darkness, giving the room an eerie glow. "Wow, this is really cool," he managed right before someone hit him over the head, knocking him clean out.


Onboard Moya

"Officer Sun!" Pilot's voice woke her from a light slumber.

Aeryn rolled over on her back and blinked heavily up at the ceiling. "Yes, Pilot. What is it?" she asked, still drowsy.

"I am sorry to disturb you, but I do think you should come up here immediately. This is a matter of some concern," Pilot's voice rang.

For a moment Aeryn stayed where she was, wishing he would just leave her alone, but then she sighed and sat up. "I'm on my way," she said, swung her legs over the edge of the bunk and got up.

Reaching Pilot's den, Aeryn wondered what was up now. "Here I am," she announced, well aware that Pilot knew she was there. "What's up?"

"Moya has run a scan of Xata and reported something odd to me a little while ago. I have rechecked it three times with the same result," Pilot said, raising his massive head to gaze directly at Aeryn.

"What has she spotted?" Aeryn wanted to know, wondering if perhaps Moya had found Peacekeepers on Xata.

"Act'has," Pilot replied. "Moya has spotted Act'has on the surface. She is rather concerned about it, too."

Struggling with her memory of basic alien life forms, Aeryn tried to recall what exactly Act'has were supposed to be. All she could remember about these beings was that they weren't dangerous unless encountered during mating season. "So? Why is that a problem?" she asked. "From what I remember, Act'has aren't dangerous unless they're in mating season."

"That is correct. There is a higher number of female Act'has on the surface than there are males. And they are in the mating season," Pilot confirmed.

"Well, then the males better steer clear of them," Aeryn replied, still failing to see why this should be upsetting news. "Is that why you called me up here, Pilot? Because there are too many female Act'has on the surface?"

Pilot eyed her for a moment, obviously realizing that she didn't recall the most essential part of Act'ha history. "If you will remember, Officer Sun," he said, "Act'ha females must mate during mating season, whether there are sufficient males or not. If there are not enough males of their own species, they will turn to others."

That clicked something into place and Aeryn suddenly remembered the whole bit she had learned about these odd creatures. "And they usually kill those males, don't they?" she asked.

"Not entirely correct. If you will recall, Act'ha females are equipped with ten orifices, compatible to the male's ten reproductive organs. They have been known to kill males of other species with exhaustion and ... well ... just plainly by suffocating them to death in order to fulfill their natural instinct to mate," Pilot explained, noting that Aeryn looked increasingly worried. "Perhaps it would be a good idea for the ... uhm ... males of this crew to steer clear of Xata for now," he added.

"Well, thank you for the warning, Pilot. But John is already on the surface," she said and switched the comlink on. "John?" she called. No reply. "John, can you hear me?" Still no reply. "John, if you can hear me, answer me. It's important."

"Moya says that it appears that his comlink is not functioning. Perhaps he left it behind?" Pilot offered.

"Not likely. He's not always as careful as he should be, but he isn't stupid," Aeryn replied, deeply worried. "He would never go down alone without the comlink on at all times. He's too afraid of being left behind."

"That is true," Pilot agreed. "I can ask Moya to try and track him. His pattern is usually easy to follow."

"Do that. I'm going down. Keep in touch with me at all times and tell me if she found something," Aeryn said. "Oh, and ask Chiana to join me at the transport."

Pilot complied while Aeryn hurried toward the pod chamber, hoping her worry was unfounded, fearing it wasn't.


On Xata

Being hit over the head never made him feel good and John felt anything but good as he slowly came to again. His head hurt ferociously and he was cold all over. Groaning, he tried to touch his face, but found himself unable to move.

Forcing his eyes open, he blinked somewhat sluggishly at the ceiling above him and wondered where he was. More importantly, he wondered why he couldn't move. Again, he tried to move his right arm and felt it responding when his muscles flexed, but his arm didn't move. Turning his head a little, he stared at his right arm that was apparently suspended above his head. So was his left arm. And he was definitely lying down. With a grunt of annoyance, he raised his head to try and discern more about his whereabouts.

He was in a rather large room, suspended on what appeared to be some type of plinth, completely immobilized, and, to his immediate regret, completely naked. "Shit," he hissed as that realization hit home. No wonder he was cold.

Glancing around, he tried to determine why he was in this room and why, for the love of God, he didn't have a stitch on. "Hello?" he tried, then cleared his throat when his voice came out a little gravelly. "Excuse me?" he tried again, figuring the nice approach might be advisable. He wasn't exactly in any position to antagonize anyone right now. "Hey, anybody here?"

"Ah, you are awake," a disembodied voice fizzled from somewhere.

Turning his head as much as he could, he tried to spot the speaker, but found nobody around. The room was completely empty apart from the plinth he was suspended on, and it was very brightly lit and chilly. "Hey, what's the idea here?" he called out, hoping to get some answers.

"We were very lucky to find you," the voice replied, sounding pleased with itself.

"Yeah, well, I'm very happy you did. What's with this setup? It's not exactly warm in here," he replied.

"Oh, yes, I am sorry about that, but Act'ha cannot function properly in higher temperatures," the voice replied. "Your genetic makeup is perfect for us, though. That unfortunately means that we need you."

With a frown, John mulled over those words for a moment. He couldn't for the life of him figure out what that meant. "What are you talking about, dude?" he wanted to know. "And what the frell are Act'ha?"

"To your right," the voice directed and he turned his head and looked in that direction, seeing nothing. "On the floor," the voice continued. He looked down at the floor and still saw nothing.

"What am I looking for?" he wanted to know, not really sure he liked this whole thing. The fun had gone out of this trip the moment he'd been hit over the head.

"Oh, you'll see her when she comes to you," the voice said.

"She?" he asked, wondering what he was in for now. They obviously didn't want him to fight them and he had the odd sensation that they were up to more than just studying here. Glancing around again, he tried to spot whatever that voice was talking about, but still saw nothing he could identify as being something living. "Okay, right, listen, I'm not in the mood for your games here, okay? Just let me lose, give my clothes back and we'll call it even."

"I am sorry, but we cannot do that," the voice replied. "The ritual has begun and we cannot interrupt now."

"What frelling ritual?" John demanded, both nervous and angry now. There was no doubt in his mind that something bad was going to happen to him. He just couldn't figure out what it might be just yet. "Look, this isn't funny, okay? I am cold and, I must admit, rather embarrassed. So, could you just cut me some slack here? I have friends waiting for me. If I don't turn up within an arn, they're going to suspect something's wrong and come looking for me. One of them's a Luxan. You don't wanna mess with him when he gets angry."

The disembodied voice virtually sighed. "Ah, Luxans. Well, let him come. We can use more breeders."

Somehow, that hadn't exactly been what he had thought. "B...Breeders?" he asked, stunned. "What the frell is that supposed to mean, breeders?"

"Well, as it were, there are hardly enough Act'ha males on this planet to satisfy our females. Fortunately, with the right genetic makeup, we can use males from other species. You fit perfectly. So will a Luxan. They endow us with such wonderful qualities," the voice explained.

"Ho-wow, slow down a microt. What the frell are you talking about?" John yelled. "You can't do this to me. I... I won't..." He couldn't think of what exactly it was he wouldn't do and nervously groped for the right words.

"Well, I do apologize up front for any discomfort you may experience. And... well... it is rather unfortunate that you Sebaceans are such frail beings. It would be so much better if you could repeat the procedure at a later point. But, alas, that will not be possible," the voice said, sounding sad. "But that cannot be helped. Do try to enjoy this a little. And thank you. You have done us a great favor."

"Ho-wow, come back here. Don't... don't you just... leave me here. Hey, are you listening to me?" John yelled, trying desperately to wiggle free of his restrains. But he couldn't. "Damn it, why do I always end up in a fix?" he hissed through clenched teeth. "HEY, ACT'HA GUY. COME BACK HERE!" he then yelled. "I AM NOT SEBACEAN. YOU HEAR ME?"

That didn't seem to make any difference, though. He received no reply. "HELLO?" he tried, but was greeted only by silence. Cursing under his breath, he again struggled against his ties, once again finding that he could move only a fraction of an inch. Not nearly enough to put some leverage into getting free. And that really concerned him, because he had started hearing some pretty odd sounds from the other end of the room. He wasn't too keen on knowing where they came from, though. It was a distinct possibility that those slurping sounds were emitted from whatever female was sharing this room with him and if she emitted sounds like that, he wasn't too keen on getting to know her.

The sounds were followed by a thud which mostly sounded like a wet piece of meat hitting a plane surface. Curiosity got the better of him and he turned his head a little to look for the source of that sound. There, on the floor, sliding toward the plinth he was suspended on, was what he could only call a pretty big slap of pale white meat. He hadn't noticed it before because it matched the color of the floor perfectly. It was about ten inches thick and rectangular, moving forward on a blanket of slime.

The sight alone made him nauseous. Swallowing hard, he felt his heart rate speed up, his pulse quicken and every fiber of his being screaming for release. Because that thing was heading toward him and he could do nothing to stop it.

"Oh no," he whispered and intensified his struggle. But no matter how he tried to twist and turn, he just could not move. His arms were suspended above his head, locked under what looked like transparent plastic covers from elbow to wrist. He had a band of transparent plastic over his chest and waist, two over his thighs, one half way up, the other right over the knee, and two more to hold his shins and his ankles. It didn't budge when he tried to move and the way his arms were positioned made it impossible for him to put any strength into getting them free.

"Shit," he hissed again, then turned his attention toward the approaching slap of meat. It was a lot closer, moving rather quickly for something without any obvious appendixes. "Aw no, stay away from me. Okay? You're not my type," he told it. It made no obvious difference to its approach.

Upping the intensity of his struggle, he knew however that it was futile. He could not escape this without help. What he didn't really understand was this breeders-crap. How could they possibly expect him to do anything with a pale slab of meat? And a slimy one at that.

Thinking about it some more, he realized that they didn't want him to do anything. Hence all the restraints; which meant that thing oozing toward him had the capacity to do something other than ooze. Almost as if in response to his unspoken thoughts, the slap of meat reared up, revealing a row of what looked suspiciously like little mouths. And they were all opening and closing constantly. The slab hit the floor again and oozed on toward him, increasing its speed.

Groaning in fear, he struggled harder still. "Aw hell, this can't be happening. Why is this always happening to me?" he asked nobody in particular. Deciding that his next course of action would have to be to summon help, he tried to buck against the restraints and couldn't. "HELP!" he yelled. "SOMEBODY? HELP ME!"


It took time, but the female Act'ha finally reached its destination and started climbing the incline to the plinth. It used its slimy secretion and hidden claws on its underside to hold on and climb upward toward its twitching goal.

John watched with fear as that thing oozed up the incline, then raised itself a little and slipped up over his feet. "Aw God," he yelped at the feel of that thing. He wanted to throw up. It was cold and slimy and it disgusted him beyond reason. Maybe because he knew that he could do nothing to stop its assent as it slowly oozed over his ankles and up his shins. "GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU DISGUSTING PIECE OF SLOB," he yelled at it. "GET OFF ME," he tried again, but nothing deterred it from climbing further up his legs.

At that very moment, he realized what was going to happen. Those openings on its underside were running down the center of this thing and it had positioned itself so they would run along the center of him. "AW NO. DON'T DO THIS TO ME. GET OFF ME." He realized that he could scream until hell froze over and nobody would come to his rescue. "HELP ME!"

And still the Act'ha female climbed upward. Only there was a change in its exterior as two tentacle-like appendixes emerged from its front, both adorned with what look suspiciously like pretty thick stingers. They searched forward, going directly for his exposed crotch. Finding the right area, it inserted the stingers into his skin, which definitely would have made him hit the ceiling if he hadn't been tied down. He screamed in agony, but only for a moment. The singers emitted an electric charge, which stopped his screaming and sent his body into violent convulsions. The charge had one purpose and one purpose only. It forced his body to react to what was apparently a sexual stimuli in Act'has. It had the same effect on him, but not in any pleasurable sense. With the convulsions still raking his body, the being eased down on his already painfully hard erection and sucked him dry in seconds. Then the charge stopped and he once again had marginal control over his body again.

Gasping for breath, sweat now covering every inch of him, he tried to regain his composure in some small way. There was no way he could go through this once more without dying of it. That was, at least, how he felt at that moment. "HELP ME!" he screamed when he felt the Act'ha moving again, upward. Its movement jostled the stingers imbedded in his crotch and he yelped in pain. "Aw no. Don't do this. Please," he pleaded, tears in his eyes.

Before he could say another word, another charge was set off, once again raking his body with spasmodic contractions and the whole thing repeated itself.


Aeryn stopped at the same stand where John had examined the exotic merchandise no more and an arn ago. She eyed the bottles for a moment, then tapped the comlink. "Pilot?" she asked. "Has Moya found anything yet?"

"Yes, Officer Sun. She has traced Commander Crichton to where you are standing now. Apparently, he never got any further than there," Pilot's voice replied.

"Does she have any idea where he could be now?" she wanted to know, scanning the busy street, searching for something that might give away what had happened.

"She says that she senses him in the area. He must still be alive," Pilot said.

"He'd better be," Aeryn mumbled, continuously scanning the area. Then her attention turned to the shop keeper, who stood upright behind the display. An Act'ha male. Several things started making sense and Aeryn did not like where this was taking her. Turning to fully face the being, she eyed it. "I'm looking for someone. I know he was here. Have you seen him?"

The Act'ha eyed her back. "I have seen nobody," it claimed.

Aeryn could sense the untruth in its words and pulled her pulsepistol. "Are you sure?" she asked, her expression tense. "I want to know where he is. Right now."

"There is nothing you can do for him," the Act'ha claimed, clasping his twenty hands together. "He is making a great sacrifice for our species. He will be remembered."

"The frell he will," Aeryn replied harshly. "I will blow your arms off and leave you at the mercy of one of your females if you don't show me where he is right now."

Apparently, the threat was taken seriously. The Act'ha's hands unclasped and it backed up a step. "There is nothing you can do for him now," it claimed again.

"We'll just see about that. Lead the way," Aeryn replied, nodding toward the back of the shop. "Go. And one wrong move and you're space dust."