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"Guardian Angel"
by J.T. Marechal
"John! Look out!" Zhaan yelled at him, still clasping one hand to her side to slow the bleeding from the knife wound she'd taken.
Crichton turned to see a very large humanoid charging toward him and raising a wicked-looking club to splatter his brains all over this alien world. The human tensed and prepared to dodge. Before he could reach Crichton, though, the club-wielder was tripped when a pair of Vorkarians engaged in their own battle rolled in front of his feet. The giant went down with a crash on top of the other two.
"Come on," growled D'Argo. "This riot is getting even worse."
The group ran for the transport pod. None of them were sure what had sparked the riot. D'Argo had muttered a comment that it was probably Crichton's fault, but that was almost a reflex by now. Rygel, on his throne sled, was able to skim above the heads of the surging crowd.
Aeryn was on point, sidearm drawn. Even out here in the Uncharted Territories, the sight of a Sebacean with a drawn weapon was enough to make most people get out of the way. D'Argo held his Qualta blade one-handed, the other supporting Zhaan. John was bringing up the rear.
A blast from an energy weapon struck nearby, just missing John's head. It was close enough that he could smell the ozone left in its wake. Even as he looked around, an answering shot from Aeryn's weapon took out the shooter on the rooftop across the street.
"Keep your head down, Crichton," she chastised him. "We're almost there."
Crichton's reply was lost in the shouting of the crowd. "Probably for the best," he thought to himself. "I don't need them riding me any more than they already are." He dodged another rioter and continued doggedly after the others.
The riot had reached the transport landing areas. A roar from the Luxan and a few well placed shots by the ex-PeaceKeeper cleared a path.
Rygel had the door open as they arrived. Aeryn leaped inside and began the launch sequence.
D'Argo helped Zhaan into the doorway, then turned to face the crowd. Crichton had fallen behind in the surging mob. The Luxan growled and, with a roaring hiss, plunged into the crowd after the human. He grabbed the collar of Crichton's flight suit and pointed him in the direction of the pod. "Go!" he shouted.
As he turned around with Crichton, a thrown brick hit him in the arm, causing him to drop his blade. John grabbed it and, together, they bulled their way through the crowd to the pod's doorway, Zhaan firing Aeryn's sidearm from the doorway to clear the path once more. Once aboard, they quickly closed the hatch and Aeryn launched the pod back toward the relative safety of Moya.
On the trip back, they checked their wounds. The cut in Zhaan's side was painful, but shallow. D'Argo's arm was badly bruised, but not broken. Aeryn had suffered a few scratches and cuts from the first stages of the riot. Rygel had a small gash on one arm, about which he complained endlessly. Crichton was unharmed.
"How the Hezmana did you manage *that*?" the Hynerian demanded, still bemoaning his own injury.
"I don't know," Crichton said. "Maybe I had a guardian angel today."
"A guardian angel?" Zhaan asked. "What is that?"
"It's a spiritual being who watches over you and . . . ." At the look on the others' faces, he said, "Never mind. It's just a human story."
* * *
"'Just a human story,' he says." A thoroughly exhausted angel, wings drooping, feathers completely ruffled, was reporting in.
"What's the matter, Arachael?" asked the chief-guardian-angel in charge of assignments.
"The next time the SACC puts in a request to keep that accident-prone human safe, send someone else."
"Okay, Arachael. Take a break. I'll give you a different assignment. We have a request for a guardian angel to protect someone called Duncan MacLeod. You can start tomorrow."
The End.
Comments, critiques and flames welcome