|
Destination Unknown - The Farscape Movie
by LeatherGirl, E-mail: leathergirlfns@yahoo.com
About Destination Unknown - The Farscape Movie
Summary: This is way too big to summarize. Read it and be entertained! And if you’re familiar with my writing style, the title is more than enough to summarize this fanfic!
Rating: R for mainly strong language, a little sexual content, and some violence
Category: Drama/Action/Adventure
Spoilers: Everything up to Eat Me, S3.
Disclaimer: I wrote this fanfic purely for entertainment with no intentions of making a profit off of Farscape, Jim Henson Productions, Channel 9, and the amazing creators of this show or anybody else involved. When you have fun creating, money is no object. Ka’ru is a fictional character of my own creation. As for the many scientific impossibilities found in this fanfic, frell them because this is science FICTION after all!
Author’s Note: This fanfic has to be the largest writing project I have ever challenged myself into producing. I actually felt further away from Farscape than I have been in the past when writing fan fiction, thus making it even more difficult to breathe life into the well-known characters. Real life issues also strayed me away from this fanfic, many of the issues dealing with inner struggle. I bring the final piece to you as my heart and soul. Please read it as a whole and respond with feedback. Even though completion and joy of writing is satisfying by itself, feedback is the ultimate satisfaction in order for me to truly see if my efforts paid off.
Thanks to the following beta-readers for helping me out: pkbarb, jilacosa, and johryn.
Special thanks to the creators of Farscape for a unique look into the world of a universe we may never know.
This story was somewhat inspired by Stephen King’s latest novel, Dreamcatcher. If you loved The Stand, this one is even better!
Chapter 1
John Crichton stared into the amber glass bottle traced with beads of perspiration. He twirled the bottle around so the branded label faced away. The level of liquid within the bottle was low. He’d have to get a refill soon. DK would take care of that. What transfixed the astronaut was not actually the smooth amber glass or the alcohol content within. John’s mind was much further beyond the simple object. Even though he was a tad bit drunk.
"DK! Anuthher round here, please!" John stated with a slur. He pointed to his bottle with his index finger drawn out and smiled. His eyes drooped as he tried to focus on the two stumbling versions of his best friend make their way through the various women standing beside a pool table near the booth where John was presently seated.
DK exchanged a flirtatious glance with one particular brunette on his way to John with two beer bottles wobbling in his hands. He had already spilled a few drops from each bottle by the time he made it to the booth. DK set the bottles down on the table and John held out a hand. DK slapped his own hand against John’s and they clasped their hands together in a tight grip. The two looked at each other with nods of deep understanding. Friends since childhood, DK and John were as close as brothers. Nothing could ever change that.
The two sat in a local bar near the Kennedy Space Station where they were presently employed. The glowing traditional clock stationed above the bar across the room displayed 1:24 AM. Bar time was almost over. Yet the buzzing crowd remained quite boisterous. DK and John had visited this bar plenty of times before during their two-year-long stay in Florida. In fact, several fellow astronauts often came to this bar to relax. The locals knew DK and John well and often drank with them. But this night was different. The two had discussed that exact feeling earlier. No one stopped by to say hello or even nod a greeting their way since they had stepped into the bar.
John scanned the somewhat thinning crowd through the hazy cloud of smoke settling throughout the bar. A rambunctious woman was leaning on an extremely intoxicated man at the dimly lit pool table that still had a few pool balls scattered upon it. A couple of old men were hunched over at the bar laughing loudly and patting each other on the back. A group of questionably young adults were playing a final round of darts, missing horribly and laughing at anything and everything. John took in a deep breath and closed his eyes as he released the breath. He didn’t hear DK calling his name at first.
"John? John? Are you listening to me? Hey bud, maybe you’ve had a little too much…" DK was saying with a laugh as he reached a hand out to pat John on the arm. John opened his eyes and looked to DK with a partial smile.
"Me? You’ve been going to the bar and ordering a shot for yourself every time you’ve gotten us drinks. Sly dog. Wish I had thought of that. Would of put my mind at ease." John stated and looked back to the bar scene he had been observing.
"Come on, John. What’s with the Jack Crichton act? You’re way too serious. Enjoy the buzz and worry about the other stuff the morning after." DK laughed and swaggered a little. John nearly snorted and burst out laughing, exchanging a look with DK. DK laughed even more, nearly spilling the contents of his drink. John struggled to keep a straight face.
"My dad has his moments, okay? Anyway, I’m not like my father. I can hold out on my own. And in a week, we’re gonna prove that and a whole lot more." John stated and brought his bottle up to his lips, pausing. He stared off into seemingly nothing, his eyes sparkling in the dim-lit atmosphere of the bar.
"A fucking hell of a lot more!" DK exclaimed and raised his bottle to John. John side-glanced DK and mimicked his friend. Their bottles tapped and they both proceeded to down their entire drinks. At the same time, they both slammed the emptied bottles back onto the table and let out a breath of satisfaction. DK exhaled a rudely large burp in the process and patted his stomach with pride.
John was about to open his mouth when a flicker of blinding light illuminated the bar. The annoying buzz of fluorescent bulbs began to hum at the break between songs on the jukebox near the door. John shielded his eyes, trying to adjust to the bright light.
"Twenty minutes folks!" A scruffy voice called from somewhere nearby.
"Why the hell do they have to do that?" DK whined and grabbed his head with his left hand. John laughed.
"DK, you need to get out and drink more. How else do you expect them to clear out the bar? Anyone who’s had at least oh, I don’t know, maybe thirteen beers tonight’s gonna want to find a nice, dark place to crash." John stated. DK looked to him with an annoyed look.
"I may be five months, six days, two hours and three minutes younger than you but that is pure bullshit, my friend." DK stated as-matter-of-factly. He had placed his elbow on the table to point at John and was finding it difficult to keep that elbow from continuously slipping off of the edge. John could barely restrain his laughter. If there was one thing that differentiated these two, it was alcohol tolerance. DK could never drink more than eight beers before puking his dinner out behind John’s Thunderbird in the parking lot.
"Listen, DK, why don’t we head on ou…." John started to say, scooting over and placing a hand on DK’s back.
"Well looky here! If it isn’t the famous Astronaut’s son and his lab monkey! It’s been a few, boys. Guess all that wasting of government funding and time at Kennedy has really burned you out. Must be nice to kick back a few before you have to go into quarantine, huh Crichton?" A huge burly man acclaimed. Upon his head was thinning, short hair. A prickly beard was forming on his chin. The man boasted a blue silk jacket with an IASA patch stitched onto the shoulder. Two other men, one much taller than the rest with a balding head and long facial features and the other a stocky man comically shorter with a military crew cut gnarled down over the first man’s shoulders. DK’s smile faded into a serious expression laced with fear. John’s smile also faded, but his face grew serious. His eyes dared the men to provoke them. Just one fist aimed their way and John would show them what he was made of. Pure confidence and strength.
The first man nodded his head and let out a dry laugh. The other men followed suit. They reminded John of puppets on strings. Bobbing their heads and hiking their legs up and down.
"Hey, it’s Mr. Freeze! Your henchmen aren’t very convincing. Listen, it’s been a long night and we’ve all got a lot of work ahead of us. Why don’t we call a truce and go home? Come on buddy, what do you say?" John tilted his head and held out his hands, waiting for an answer. DK slipped a glance over to John nervously, watching the situation unfold. The man leaned forward. He placed both arms onto the table. The empty beer bottles began to slide towards his direction.
"Listen, Bobby, why don’t you, Gregory, and Opus here take the high road the hell out of here and leave us be? You’ve harassed us since we first got here two fricken years ago. Get a clue. We’ve got seniority here." DK stated in a small voice, trying to clear things up but not realizing the anger he carried in his own voice. Bobby looked to DK with a snarl. John slapped his hand onto Bobby’s right arm. Bobby slowly turned his head to look at John with an even larger snarl. John’s stomach churned. He gulped and smiled.
"We’re just holding off on the real, important missions until you and your little soap box take off and fly into oblivion. And maybe you won’t come back." Bobby stated and leaned in closer to John on the last words, biting at each syllable. John only blinked. DK could sense in John’s posture that his friend was slightly shaking with fear. But John remained as steady as he could, holding his ground.
"And maybe I discover that my theory really does work and we steer space travel into a whole new direction. Before you know it, we’ll be getting your sorry asses to the moon faster, dropping you off, and disappearing before you can cry for your mother." John stated with clenched teeth.
Bobby slammed his left fist onto the table. Both John and DK jumped. The motion shook the empty beer bottles into chaos. John’s bottle tipped onto it’s side and began to roll around in a semi-circle. DK’s bottle jumped and actually teetered on the edge of the table, balancing by a hair from shattering onto the floor. Opus scrambled around and kicked the table onto its side as Gregory took a hold of DK’s collar and held him at bay.
"Oh crap." John said in a small voice just before Bobby grabbed him by his shirt and picked him up. Gregory held DK dangling two inches from the ground in his grip and Bobby held John against a pole. Opus searched for the spare pool sticks. Just as John and DK were about to be thrown like chalk cubes onto the nearby pool table, a loud whistle distracted them all. The group turned to look towards the front door of the bar. A man stood with his arms crossed, waiting patiently for any excuse to pounce on the offensive men.
The entire bar grew silent and a few inhabitants decided now was the time to leave. The drunken inhabitants of the bar began to clear out. The bartender and waitresses were finding it hard to keep everything under control.
The man who had saved DK and John stood in the opened doorway thirty feet away in absolute silence. The black night behind him carried in a slight breeze, rippling his IASA jacket. A stern and steady look across this man’s face was enough to motivate Bobby and his friends. Bobby tapped John on the chest, his eyes dancing with revenge. The men released DK and John and rushed towards the back door of the bar, disappearing just as quickly as the man had appeared at the front door. DK stumbled over to John and the two grabbed onto each other. They hesitantly glanced at the man at the doorway and then around at the empty bar. The waitresses began to fan out, cleaning up the night’s spills and messes. The bartender, with a white towel draped over his right shoulder, leaned his arms onto the bar and looked to the two as if they had caused the uproar.
Slowly, the two made their way to the man at the doorway. They managed to keep their gaze anywhere but the man’s face. DK sheepishly began to make his way past the man and stopped. He looked into his face and then looked away. He disappeared out the doorway and John stepped up to the man. He tightened his lips and gained eye contact with the man. Disappointment. John didn’t like to see that in this man’s eyes. He respected him, looked up to him.
"Dad, I…." John began.
"Save it. I’ll take you boys back to your house." John’s father stated, folding his arms over his chest. He continued to gaze into John’s somewhat unsteady gaze. Almost searching for something. John felt uncomfortable under this gaze. His mother had once done the very same thing.
"Dad, you don’t und…" John was cut off once again.
"How do I explain to the boys back at Canaveral that Jack Crichton’s son likes to spend the last couple days before quarantine wasting away at some local bar raising hell with his fellow co-workers? I’m angry, John. Extremely angry. We’ll talk in the morning…oh-seven hundred." Jack barked. John felt the sharp voice piercing through his already aching mind ten times the affect he would if he had not been drinking. He took in a deep breath and mumbled something.
"What was that?" Jack almost ordered an answer. Something was bothering John. Jack could sense it and had known it for days now. It was extremely unlike his son to disregard all responsibility like this. High school and college had been the time for drinking and being young…now John was an astronaut with more than just the world to prove to.
"Yes. SIR." John stated and hung his head, brushing past his father as he walked out the door.
Jack turned half way to watch his son try to walk somewhat straight towards the jeep. Jack felt sinister for being the bad guy this time, but knew even though John was drunk, his son could never really disrespect him in any way. John thought the world of him. Even before he had gone to the moon. Even before the medals and the national attention. Even when he sometimes hadn’t made it home for John’s birthday.
*****
The blazing orange sliver began to melt into the deep blue ocean at the horizon line. Orange pools of reflected light glittered on the shimmering water, begging for more life than the oncoming nightfall would allow. A slight salty breeze whooshed across the surface of the endless waters from the darkening clear blue sky above.
Sifting his sandals through the cool, saturated sand at the edge of the oncoming tide, John observed the final sliver of the day’s sun slip under the horizon. The cerulean blue tint in the sky this evening was incredibly beautiful. John wondered if his perception of things was enhanced due to the fact that this was the last sunset he would witness for nearly a week before the big day.
DK cleared his throat. John’s clouded mind cleared for a moment as he turned to his friend standing just to his side. He had nearly forgotten that DK was there. DK had earlier agreed to come along with him to the beach to have a chat. This was a secluded, somewhat swampy beach that few had access to. The two childhood friends often would sneak away to this government owned area to get away from the headaches of life. They had an incredible view of both the endless Atlantic Ocean and just miles away, the incredulously shrunken silhouette of the empty launch pad at Cape Canaveral.
"Hey John?" DK asked, looking to his friend with one eye narrowed in question.
"Yeah?" John asked in a half-hearted tone. His mind was elsewhere.
"What were you talking about at the bar last night? You know, about ‘proving a whole lot more’? You’re not making this into a mission to prove to the world that you can hold out on your own, be your own hero…are you?" DK pushed the subject. The gentle breeze rippled through his loose-buttoned shirt, revealing some of the slight muscle on his chest.
"You actually remember the whole night after all that drinking? I’m impressed with you DK." John joked. DK chuckled but grew serious once more. John smiled and dropped his head for a moment. He dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans and shook his head. He then raised his head to look to DK.
"Actually, DK, no. I love my father and I think he’s the coolest guy in the entire universe. That’s not what’s really bothering me, DK. Far from it, actually." John turned to look back over the wavy ocean before them.
"Then what’s bothering you, man? This should be the most fucking exciting time of your life! Relish it! I sure the hell am!" DK leaned forward, raising his voice with a smile. John flashed a smile in DK’s direction. "Maybe…maybe it’s Alex. She wasn’t worth it man. She’s long gone anyway. Course, the way you were staring at that bottle last night, I sure as hell thought sooner or later you’d be asking it to marry you."
John flashed another look to DK. This one urged him to go no further on the subject. Alex had been John’s first true love. A couple years earlier he had asked for her hand in marriage. But career won over love in Alex’s case. Perhaps John was too stubborn to leave with her and give up his dream project. Either way, John figured they were both better off.
"And another thing…how did your dad know where we were? How the hell did he show up with such good timing?" DK questioned in bewilderment. John turned his entire body towards DK. He then began to walk past him, placing a hand on DK’s shoulder and making eye contact.
"You ask too many questions, DK. That’s why you’re such a damned good scientist." John said with a grin and continued on his way up the beach. Parked on the gutted out path leading to the main road was John’s prized car. The pure red paint job of his 1962 Ford Thunderbird glowed even in the dimming light of dusk.
DK spun on his heels and hurried to catch up to John. He was a curious man indeed. Ever since they were kids, DK had always been the one to take a closer look. John himself was a curious soul but he had always had a few more brain cells, knowing what spelled trouble. Of course, that never kept either of the two out of it, though.
"Tell me, man. Are you having second thoughts about Farscape One? We’ve been over her a thousand times already. She’s perfect. A fucking beaut. And if you’re worried about the weather, don’t be…we’ve been blessed by a dry season so far. Five day forecast looks clear as a bell. It’s all a go. All our blood, sweat, tears…all of it has come down to Friday afternoon. The second you lift off, our entire futures will never be the same. Everything will change. We’re going to prove your theory and we’re going prove to the world John Crichton and his very intelligent life-long friend DK are not to be messed with!" DK stated with confidence. John stopped in his tracks to listen to his friend and observed his excitement, feeling some of that energy beginning to tingle within himself as well.
"Except for the hottest chicks who will no doubt throw themselves all over us once we step foot out of that debriefing room Monday morning." DK held out his hands in a quick bout of laughter. John tried to retain a straight face and looked into his friend’s ecstatic expression.
"DK, my…our life-long dream is about to come true, I realize this. We’ve been blessed with all the right breaks and favors to get this far. But you have to realize that once I get up there and proceed to prove a highly disregarded theory is good enough for me to relish in at this moment. I’ll worry about all the small stuff when the time calls for me to. Right now, I’m just happy to see my last sunset before quarantine." John grabbed DK by the shoulders, gave them a squeeze and headed off to his car.
DK, with a somewhat puzzled look transforming onto his face, followed John with his eyes. He then jumped to catch up to John. John climbed into the driver’s seat just as DK took a faithful leap and landed in the passenger’s seat without bothering with the door. John shook his head with a smile and started up the car, switching on the lights in the darkened evening. He shifted gears and spun some sand before the car took hold and zoomed off down the path. The red taillights glowed like a pair of eyes, growing smaller and smaller as they headed further down the path with a trail of dust swirling behind.
*****
The glowing yellow sphere flirted with the hazy atmosphere as it lifted up into the sky. The dawn of a new day. The tall shuttle representing American pride was silhouetted by the sun, resembling an erector set. Cape Canaveral. A few songbirds awakened the rest of the world to the early morning around him. John sat at the head of his car, staring at the sunrise. His head was spinning with thoughts, concerns, and most of all, hope. A tiny fluttering feeling was teasing his stomach but John ignored this momentarily to relish in his surroundings. He inhaled the salty, earth-enriched air around him and smiled.
Sure, he had broken quarantine to come here and witness this sunrise, but John knew there was some importance to doing so. Usually not one for philosophical mumbo-jumbo on fate, John was somewhat disembodied. His intuition was growing stronger by the moment, screaming to him that something was about to turn sour this fine day.
On the contrary, listening to his intuition was the least of his objectives today. John was determined. He was about to make history. He was going to break into a whole new world of thought and discovery. A significant discovery needed in the constant struggle to reach into the outer boundaries of the planet and better yet, the solar system that bound the fragile human race.
The sun rose higher into the sky, it’s golden rays kissing the edge of the space shuttle stationed on the platform. John smiled even brighter before preparing to leave. He was going to prove a theory that had been dancing around his head since he first realized his dream of space travel had become real. John Crichton, astronaut and scientist, was going to be a hero.
*****
"Launch in ten…nine…eight…." A calm female’s voice carried over the airways of several loudspeakers situated throughout the grounds at Cape Canaveral.
An impressive crowd of family, friends, and the media were gathered at the viewpoint a mile or so from the launch pad. John’s two sisters and their families were among this crowd, waving American flags and crossing their fingers. Across the entire planet, television sets, radios, and even Internet broadcasts were tuned in to the launch…history in the making. No matter the time of day or night, the entire world was watching.
The scientists in the control room of IASA headquarters stood near their monitors, watching through the windows with hope and excitement dancing in their eyes. The maintenance crew that helped with transporting the shuttle stood in a hanger, watching from afar.
"Seven…six…five…."
DK hovered above his chair, ready to jump into the air at lift off. His eyes nervously scanned the weather satellite images and instantly updated data displayed on the computer monitor before him. The newspaper with the article headlining childhood friends proving a theory lay sprawled across the desk beside the computer.
Jack Crichton stood nearby with his hands in his pockets, secretly scrunched so hard into a ball that his fingernails were digging into his palms His face remained steady and cautious, watching through the windows of the control room and praying. He thought of a moment he had shared with his son just an hour earlier. John had mentioned he had a feeling of rattlers in his stomach. Jack dared not to admit the same and reassured his son that everything would be fine. He gave John the puzzle ring laced onto a silver necklace given to Jack by the famous Russian astronaut, Yuri Gagarin. It had always brought Jack luck and hopefully, the superstition would hold true today.
"Four…three…."
John thought of the small module sitting within the shuttle beneath him. John and DK had slaved over the module, appropriately titled Farscape One, for what had seemed like an entire lifetime. Every nut and bolt holding that baby together had been personally overseen or even screwed in place by either John or DK. John had dreamed of this machine for so long, it seemed he had never thought of anything else in his entire life. The buzzing of the engines firing up from below began to vibrate throughout the shuttle. A moment passed when John thought all might go up in smoke but then realized this was it. He was going to prove his theory. He was going to slingshot across the atmosphere of Earth, using its gravity to catapult his module to previously unprecedented speeds. The roaring rumble of the rocket boosters shook him back to tasks on hand and John quadruple-checked every monitor and warning light on the panels before him. Determination and pride boiled within, masking those rattlers briefly. John felt like screaming at the top of his lungs. He smiled and relaxed his body.
"Two…one…LIFT OFF!"
With an incredible pull against gravity, John, the shuttle, and the rocket booster that empowered it shot upwards towards the heavenly blue above. The crowds below screamed and hollered with excitement, some jumping up, others throwing a fist into the air. The control tower was nearly shaking as every body and soul in the building shrieked and danced. DK let out a whoop but continued his steady gaze on the monitors. He, too, was feeling rattlers in his stomach. Jack Crichton smiled with deep pride and admiration, beaming at the barely visible shuttle above the stream of smoke from the rocket boosters head up into the atmosphere.
The buzz of excitement began to settle as scientists concentrated on the task at hand. Within thirty minutes, the rocket boosters had been released and the shuttle had been stationed in orbit. John’s module was currently being raised into outer space. The view was most likely incredible. Jack smiled and thought about joining his daughters at the space center. DK’s frantic voice interrupted his thoughts.
"John abort!" DK exclaimed, dancing in front of his computer as if ants were crawling inside his pants. Jack rushed to the monitor, barely acknowledging the glaring warnings flashing across the screen, and leaned forward. He didn’t need technology to tell him something was wrong…his intuition was enough.
"Son, you have to abort! Abort now!" Jack screamed into the microphone on the desk.
Before any of them, perhaps even John, knew what was happening, the module disappeared off the screens, vanishing from any detection. An odd silence fell over the entire base. Even with months ahead screening for any wrong action or warning unseen, John Crichton and Farscape One would never be heard from or seen again.
*****
John awoke in a fierce cold sweat, rolling onto his side. Unfortunately, the incredibly soft bed he had been lying on was not long enough to roll around on. John fell with a rude thud onto the hard floor below. With his palms flattened out on the warm surface, John could sense a slight moving sensation from the floor. He took in a deep breath. Straightening, John sat onto his bed and rested his head in his hands. Just another nightmare. So vivid and exact he sometimes thought he was really there. He could still feel the cool sand from the beach or smell the fresh air off the ocean.
For an ounce of a second…microt…John had thought he had been home on Earth in the comfort of planet-induced gravity and his soft feather bed. The calm lapping sound of waves crashing ashore that had often lulled him to sleep was now a quiet humming noise of thousands of parts working together to propel a large ship through space. He had been living aboard Moya, the biomechanoid Leviathan ship for nearly three cycles now. John had learned that dreams were dreams and home was further away from reality than the stars sparkling out the small view screen in what he claimed as his quarters.
Earth was a far away dream that had once existed two and a half cycles…or years in Earth terms…ago for John. He had indeed proved his theory in a way, but also discovered a whole new universe that changed his way of thinking forever. Somehow, he had created a wormhole and was transported to another part of the universe. So far away that even the strange creatures he encountered here didn’t know what or where he was from. They hadn’t even heard of Humans.
Here, now as a fugitive with knowledge that even these highly superior beings hungered for, John lived a life that challenged each day. John was not alone on Moya, however. He traveled with a crew of several other odd species who were fugitives as well but for different reasons. They had grown close like a family and learned to honor each other’s differences. If any of them had a home to return to when the time came, it would be difficult to separate.
So many struggles and setbacks had tangled with their lives as the fugitives traveled deep into a space known commonly as the Uncharted Territories. Love, distrust, loss…they had encountered it all. The extremes often challenged John’s scientific boundaries. He had learned that nothing was for certain in this far away universe. Not even death.
A twitching noise came from nearby. John would have jumped on a normal day. He knew all too well the sound of the small yellow "bugs" or biomechanoid robots that often patrolled the ship. The DRDs, or Diagnostic Repair Drones, were the eyes and ears of Pilot, the creature that controlled Moya and interpreted her actions and feelings to the crew. John let his hands rest to his sides and shifted to see the tiny glowing eyes of the DRD as it approached. It bounced into his feet as a teasing gesture. John let out a laugh as he realized this was the DRD that had been damaged the first day he had arrived on Moya. One of it’s antenna eyes had nearly been severed. John had taken a snip of tape from his gear and carefully wrapped up the antenna, fixing the DRD and restoring the light receptor that resembled an eye.
"If I had a watch or any way of telling what frelling time of the morning it was right now, I’d have to say you are way too early to be bugging me now. What’s up?" John asked the DRD as if it would be able to talk back to him. He used terms more common in the Uncharted Territories like they had been a part of his vocabulary since he first learned how to talk. But he never lost the phrases and words that were so unique to his culture. The "Crichtonisms" confused his fellow crewmates and that both pleased and frustrated John.
With a huge sigh at realizing sleep for the night was over, John stood up and stretched. The darkness of the quarters could easily be changed by command, lightening to a soft glow. But John preferred the darkness for the time being. It complimented his mood.
Walking through out the twisting maze of semi-lit halls to Command, John allowed his thoughts to wander like his feet. The reddish tint to the oddly structured halls reminded John of his treasured Thunderbird. Where was it now? Had his father taken it back home and covered it? Maybe DK had taken ownership and finally gotten to cruise the town, picking up chicks. John often wondered whatever came of his family, friends, and Earthly possessions. Throughout his time in the Uncharted Territories, evil beings that he had encountered had toyed with his memories of home. More than once, John had been fooled into believing he had made it home and was amongst his loved ones once again.
Much the wiser and quicker to distrust, John was now a forever changed soul. And just recently, his persona had taken on a more angered tone of caution. The curious scientist who had once welcomed new discoveries now questioned them. He also constantly carried a pulse pistol on a holster on his right thigh. A necessity out here indeed, even for the most peaceful of mind.
The DRD whisked past John and hurried towards an opened doorway just down the hall. The large chamber where the crew often converged contained the largest view screen on the entire ship, save the Terrace where there was no ceiling at all save the space that surrounded them. Even with his most present concerns, the concept of the Terrace with a breathable atmosphere and centered gravity still perplexed the human.
John stepped into Command and no longer could see or hear the DRD. What he observed instead was that all the interior lighting had been turned on to full capacity. It was quite bright in here for this time of the night. Night was something only the body’s cycle was able to determine. No sun or clock could tell the time.
Quietly walking up to the console near the right side of the room, John observed the incredible view out before the ship. More brightly lit stars flavored this canvas than John could have ever witnessed from even the outer stretches of space near Earth. Amazing but heart-breaking at the same time. Here he was, the first human to make alien contact and survive unbelievable adventures. Traveling in distant space not even the Hubble Telescope could see. Witnessing the past, present, and future of the stars from within an enormous living ship. Alien contact on a regular basis. Trouble and the threat of death always within an arm’s reach.
Taking in the quietness, John realized he hadn’t enjoyed this unusual serene silence in quite a long time. As he leaned forward onto the console, a sudden noise from behind caused him to jump out of his skin. John instinctively reached for his weapon and spun around to face whatever it was that had disturbed his silence. His racing heart skipped a beat and John rested his butt against the console in relief. A woman of striking beauty stood before him with a look of concern spread across her face.
The woman wore a black tank top and black leather pants. Quite unusual for this time of night. Her bare shoulders boasted her well-toned muscles. The firm look upon her face told of discipline and strict attention.
John gave the woman he had grown to care for a warm smile. Her look almost projected an angry response. Instead, the rigid woman stepped forward to view the controls on the console. She opened her mouth. John expected a harsh comment but only saw her yawn instead. She side-glanced at him and smiled, giving John the feeling that all was well.
"What are you doing up?" She asked, observing the controls.
"I should ask you the same, Aeryn. I couldn’t sleep. ‘Sides, that DRD brought me here." John said, looking around to see if he could spot the gone missing DRD. Without so much as a glance, Aeryn continued her motions with ease.
"You must be seeing things again, John. The only DRDs I’ve seen have been patrolling the halls." Aeryn stated in a bored tone. She looked to the view screen to observe the sight for a moment. John rolled his eyes and straightened. He turned to face the view screen once more and stole a glance in Aeryn’s direction. She was looking radiant even in the early morning hours.
"Yeah, whatever. So what’s your excuse?" John asked wryly. Aeryn glanced at him with a questioning look. The look passed as she grasped his inquiry.
"Pilot mentioned some strange readings earlier and I just wanted to make sure everything was secure." Aeryn stated and looked deeper into John’s troubled eyes. "The crew’s worried about you. I’m worried about you."
Memories from his dream about his past flashed through John’s mind. The look his father had given him at the bar. It was the same look Aeryn was giving him now. John felt uncomfortable, unable to handle this kind of confrontation regarding his own personal well-being. He tried to redirect the conversation.
"We need to find another peaceful commerce planet. Food and supplies are getting low." John stated what Aeryn already knew.
Indeed, the crew was growing short on supplies lately. In fact the space they were occupying at this moment was bare and uninhabited. Not a single planet, let alone an inhabitable planet had been detected for over a weeken in their travels. Being in uncharted space and often the prey in a hunt by numerous enemies, the crew often struggled with this dilemma.
"John…if there’s something wrong, you have to tell us. No more of the Scorpius dren." Aeryn charged on. She spoke of John’s nemesis with disgust. John frowned and turned Aeryn to face him. She peered at him with caution.
"Scorpius has left the building, Aeryn. If you really want to know, I’ll tell you. Dreams. Or maybe nightmares to be more exact. Nothing like Scorpy could conjure up. Just pure and simple dreams of home. Happens now and then and it’s nothing to get worried about." John smiled at her and leaned in to give her a quick kiss on the lips. Aeryn savored the kiss; John could see it in her eyes. Aeryn watched him with question as he drew away from her. John turned half-way to leave.
"Good because we have enough to worry about already. Rygel eats more than his weight in an arn, we have two new crew members to keep an eye on, and the supply of cartridges for the pulse rifles is depleted." Aeryn replied. John only nodded, his thoughts already elsewhere. He then left Command almost as swiftly as Aeryn had arrived. Aeryn frowned. Pilot’s image appeared at the clamshell on the wall.
"Keep the DRD on him, Pilot. Trust amongst us has been compromised one too many times. I want to know if he even so much as sneezes, understand?" Aeryn ordered, glancing over at Pilot. The creature wore a surprised expression.
"If there’s anyone on this ship to trust it is Commander Crichton, is it not?" Pilot questioned.
"Pilot, even D’Argo agrees with me on this. The entire crew does." Aeryn argued. She turned back to the console and stared out the view screen.
"Officer Sun?"
"Pilot…." Aeryn began with an angered voice. She took a deep breath and turned to face the imagery in the clamshell. Her face displayed annoyance. Aeryn’s patience had been dwindling quickly since her return from the dead monens ago.
"I am no longer an officer." Aeryn barked. Her angry eyes frightened Pilot. He nodded to acknowledge her statement.
"Yes, offi….Aeryn." Pilot obeyed, wincing as he made a slip in addressing her.
"Just do as I say." With that final comment from the ex-PeaceKeeper, Pilot disappeared from the clamshell.
Aeryn exhaled tiredly as she leaned onto the console with a heavy face of guilt. She cared deeply for John. Lately, especially now that she was living a life that had been gifted back to her from death, Aeryn was beginning to realize something. Her life until now had no real purpose. She had always believed what she had been ordered to believe. She had obeyed every order as a Peace Keeper and never questioned anything. Not even things she may have disagreed with.
Now, Aeryn was beginning to think about her future. Did she want to continue living on the run? Always picking up the mess and saving her seemingly helpless crewmates? And her past. She yearned to gain access to her family’s history. Why had she never known her father? What had ever happened to her mother?
Time was coming for Aeryn to make a decision. The only problem was that she had no decision to make. Moya was the only place she had to stay. And she wasn’t about to go live on a planet any time soon. Aeryn had been raised on a ship in space. For now, Aeryn simply kept to herself and observed those around her with caution. At this very moment, her instincts were screaming to her. Danger was always hiding in the shadows. Aeryn was determined to reveal the danger. And dispose of it as efficiently and quickly as possible.
Chapter 2
Day one. John sat with his arms folded and resting on the tabletop in what he had claimed as his quarters. The lighting within was dim. Settled before him on the table was the flight recorder from his module. The day had been a long, stressful and incredible ride he would never forget. His head was spinning with questions. Most of all, his heart yearned for home.
John had just recorded a message to his father on this recorder. Something he would do often in the treacherous upcoming months aboard this Leviathan.
Everything he had encountered in the past day had been extremely wondrous and frightening at the same time. Excitement thrilled him as much as the adrenaline still pumping through his veins.
He had been on another planet today. Another planet. Just wait until Dad heard about this! He’d probably have John sent to get a head CT and make sure nothing was rolling loose in his skull. Of course, that was if John was ever going to make it back to Earth…in one piece.
John had made alien contact. Several alien contacts. He was bewildered. Hell, he was even presently seated on a living space ship. He had been injected with translator microbes to enable him and others to understand the infinite languages spoken in this part of the universe. And exactly how far away was he from Earth anyway? Definitely far from the Milky Way. Probably light-years from the furthest visible light source via the good ol’ trusty Hubble.
A frown formed onto John’s face. He had also made an enemy. Of course, who was to say the alien beings he was trapped with at this moment weren’t his enemies as well? Instinct. John had a feeling about them. But he also had a feeling about the Captain Crais he had encountered today. The man…if that indeed was what he really was…had accused John of murdering his brother. The mistaken run-in passed through John’s mind. John had no control over that. This Crais was a vengeful soul.
The various events paraded through his mind like a movie. Being sucked through a wormhole, caught in another world’s war, witnessing more than his home planet could ever dream of seeing, standing on another planet, meeting other intelligent species, using his theory a second time…. The theory! John bolted upright. He had proved it after all! It had worked! Unfortunately for him, the only reason he hadn’t really acknowledged that when it had occurred was simple. No wormhole had formed the second time. And no wormhole meant no returning home. John didn’t even want to think about what his father and DK must be going through at this point in time.
How long would he be stuck in this place known as the Uncharted Territories? Would he ever see home again? Would Captain Crais really hunt him down? And would that little green slug Rygel actually steal all his stuff?
John looked back at his recorder and felt the day’s stresses and bruises settling in. He was truly exhausted. As he turned to make way to what resembled a bed near the wall to his right, John stopped cold. His heart skipped a beat. The being standing near his bed was not who he had originally seen in this memory. John stood and came to face his sly grinning nemesis. Scorpius was back once again in his mind.
*****
D’Argo charged through the hall on Moya, his face set in anger. The large Luxan living aboard the ship had had many setbacks in his life. For eight grueling cycles, he had been a prisoner aboard Moya when she was a prisoner ship under PeaceKeeper control. His crime: murdering his wife, Lo’Laan, a Sebacean. The truth came to be that Lo’Laan’s brother had killed her in a rage against her marrying another species and not one of her own. D’Argo was falsely imprisoned and separated from his son, Jothee. He had been searching for the boy since his freedom two and a half cycles ago. Once he found his son, under the unusual circumstances that had come to play, D’Argo pushed Jothee away. Jothee in turn found attraction to D’Argo’s love interest at the time, Chiana, a Nebari. This spun off a disastrous effect in all three lives involved. After the upsetting affair was revealed, D’Argo became temporarily suicidal. Jothee decided to leave Moya, to prove to both himself and his father that he could do better in life. Chiana struggled to resolve the differences now set between her and her former love. And D’Argo strived to resolve the inner turmoil within, unsure of whether he wanted to love again.
Chiana was not far behind D’Argo in the hall, chattering incoherently fast. The Nebari had come to Moya as a prisoner. Her life changed drastically and she became free aboard this ship. After being labeled as a tralk and a skilled snurcher by the crew, Chiana had to work her way to respect. Though she had been aboard for two cycles now, Chiana still struggled. She was young but had a good heart. And she was desperately trying to speak with D’Argo without being brushed off. Of course, after the incident with Jothee, Chiana couldn’t blame D’Argo for not wanting to be around her anymore. Still, they had to live with each other and to do that, they had to communicate and get along.
Recent events had brought them closer since her escapade with Jothee, but Chiana still sensed things weren’t going to go back to normal. Chiana was determined to change that. D’Argo had to forgive her. After all, he had treated her like a child, underestimated her, and even pushed her away while searching for his son.
Rygel appeared ahead of the two, floating in his throne sled with his chin held high. Former Dominar XVI of over 600 billion Hynerians like himself, Rygel had been imprisoned. He had fallen asleep on his throne, only to be impersonated by his cousin. Bitter ever since, Rygel’s ultimate goal was to reclaim his throne, and destroy his cousin.
Rygel had finally come to terms with living on Moya with the crewmates he secretly cared for. He was beginning to realize the benefits of living with a bunch of criminals. They often came upon treasures and money that begged for proper handling and ownership. Rygel was the perfect little Dominar to take on the job. And keep everything for himself.
D’Argo eyed Rygel suspiciously as the Hynerian approached. D’Argo slowed to a stop. Rygel stopped his throne sled before D’Argo and looked up at the sneering Luxan with a bored expression. Chiana caught up to the two and smiled. Opportunity awaits.
"Out of my way, Luxan." Rygel demanded. D’Argo crossed his arms and stood tall with a grin.
"D’Argo, while you’re here…." Chiana began with a nervous laugh. D’Argo allowed his gaze to fall onto Chiana for only a microt before looking back to Rygel.
Rygel backed his throne sled only a few denches. He looked from Chiana to D’Argo. He shook his head, muttered something under his breath, and redirected his throne sled to pass by D’Argo. D’Argo trailed Rygel with his eyes as he passed. Rygel ignored the Luxan and sped up once he had gotten back into the open hall. His third stomach was rumbling, announcing that it was time to eat once again.
D’Argo was about to take a step forward when Chiana stepped in front of him. She placed her arms on his chest to stop him and smiled briefly at the touch. D’Argo sent her a chilling look and she lowered her arms. But she steadied her gaze into his eyes, realizing that somewhere within, the sweet D’Argo she had loved and continued to love had not disappeared.
"What do you want, Chiana?" D’Argo asked in defeat. He lowered his arms to his sides and waited impatiently for Chiana to speak.
"I want you to talk to me, D’Argo. I know you. You’re sweet, gentle…and you listen. So please, listen to me now. We need to talk about…things. We need to resume our lives, try to forgive the past, and move on with the future. I love you, D’Argo, I always have. Even if you don’t love me, I need you to at least respect me. I’ve always been able to take care of myself. But I’ve become so much stronger…so much more caring because of you." Chiana stated with tears beginning to float in her eyes.
"Do you regret what you have done? Do you realize the pain you have caused me?" D’Argo barked. Chiana shrunk back.
"Yes, I haven’t even begun to forgive myself, D’Argo. I never meant to hurt you." Chiana stated in a small voice.
D’Argo opened his mouth to reply. Suddenly, Moya jolted, sending both Chiana and D’Argo into the wall nearby. Chiana cried out and D’Argo grabbed a hold of her as the ship began to shake violently.
"Pilot! Aeryn, John! What’s going on?" D’Argo yelled into his comms.
"We’ve come upon some kind of force field…I’m not certain what it is. Moya’s scans are going fahrbot." Pilot shouted back.
"I can’t see the stars beneath us." Aeryn’s puzzled voice stated on the comms.
At that moment, Moya came to an abrupt stop. Chiana and D’Argo remained stationary, arms held out ready to embrace the walls in the event of another shaking episode.
"What the frell was that?" Chiana demanded to know. The two stood up and looked to each other in question.
"I think you better come to Command, D’Argo." Aeryn’s confused voice urged over the comms.
Stark and Jool appeared in the hall to the left. They slowed as they approached Chiana and D’Argo. The four joined together and headed towards Command. Jool was her normal impatient, whiny self. Stark was on alert, his face set in concern.
Stark had come to live with the crew only recently, as well as Jool. He had survived many unspeakable tortures and had even been dispersed at one point. Thought dead, Stark returned unexpectantly. He indeed had come back from the dead, to warn the crew of danger. After several distressing events, Stark became a permanent member of the crew, only to lose his one true love, Zhaan. He now reigned as a spiritual replacement, tuned in to Zhaan. Yet he still retained his unusual insane personality.
Jool was one of the Interons John brought back from the Ice planet where he had had surgery on his brain. The same place that Aeryn had died not too long ago and had been brought back to life by Zhaan. Jool survived the process that unfroze her and became a member of the crew, whining and unappreciative of her spared life. She had talents that could be useful to the crew, but cared not to share them.
"Does it ever get boring around here?" Jool asked, not getting an answer nor expecting one. She whipped her red curly hair around, a strand whisking across Chiana’s face. Chiana veered away in disgust, glaring at Jool.
"I sense some strange energy waves in this region. Perhaps we’ll know more once we can see what’s out there." Stark suggested. Stark began to lead the group as he eagerly wanted to see what all the commotion was about. Anything he could do to keep his mind off of the recent loss of his love, Zhaan, was welcomed.
Rygel appeared ahead of the group near the split in the hall. He glanced at them for a moment and proceeded forward out of view, towards the opened doorway to Command. The group quickly caught up and entered Command as well. John was already there, standing next to Aeryn, staring out the view screen in awe. Pilot’s image was displayed on the clamshell and Rygel had joined the two to look as well.
"What is it?" Jool asked without a care for an answer. She stopped behind John and crossed her arms. The others stopped in a line along with Aeryn, Rygel, and John, to stare out the view screen.
Before the crew, existed the usual vast black canvas of space out the view screen. Only the numerous sparkling distant stars that normally painted the view were diminished to a few distant lights. The direct space below and far all around them was littered with swirls of light surrounding perfect cylindrical black holes. The swirls consisted of dust, gases, minerals, and even unlucky ships and their inhabitants, breaking apart under the incredible crush of gravity. These swirls were far between each other, and some were even pulling onto each other, the stronger winning the fight. There were seven such swirls in Moya’s direct view. Never before had any of the crew encountered such an awesome sight.
"Black holes." John stated in a small, wondrous voice as he stared on. He was awestruck: controversial black holes in his very line of sight. The scientists back home would have died for an opportunity like this. Black holes were mystical and little was known about them. The one thing that was absolute was the fact that if you could see a black hole in person, you were in deep dren. John’s stomach began to flutter. He backed away and pointed at Pilot.
"Reverse! Starburst! Do something or we’ll be sucked into one of those black holes!" John ordered. The rest of the crew grew anxious.
"What are you talking about? You’ve seen this before? Are they dangerous?" Jool asked with fear seeping into her voice. She too began to back away.
"I’m afraid I can’t do that, Crichton. There’s a force that is pulling at Moya. We’re slowly being pulled towards the closest of these ‘black holes’." Pilot announced fearfully.
"What are black holes, John?" D’Argo questioned with urgency riding his voice.
"Pilot, you have to get us out of here now!" John ordered. "Those black holes can disintegrate anything. They suck in all light and matter around them. We have to move now!"
The look on his face was nearly enough to motivate Pilot and Moya. Moya began to back away from the chaos.
"We’ve already passed one since we’ve encountered these things. Maybe you’re mistaken." Aeryn charged, looking at John. John titled his head at her and scoffed.
"Aeryn, you don’t understand…these things are…." John stopped, once more looking out the view screen.
"What is that?" Chiana asked with a quiver in her voice.
A large ship passed above Moya, rambling her and everyone within slightly. The ship was of unfamiliar technology and obviously out of control. It careened towards the nearest black hole to Moya. The crew leaned forward with fear in their eyes. The ship was violently thrashed into a spin and exploded near the edge of the black hole. The large shards of the ship and its contents merged with the matter already spinning into the black hole.
The crew leaned back and allowed the sight to sink in. They then turned to John, ready to listen.
"That ship. We didn’t even see it coming. Pilot, are your scans still working?" Stark pondered. Silence came from Pilot. The crew waited for a few microns as Pilot checked the scans and communicated with Moya.
"No." Came the surprised answer from Pilot. The crew once again turned to the human. Doom spread across his face.
"The ship was headed straight for that black hole. That’s one thing. But we still should be veering towards it ourselves right now."
"But we’re not." Jool stated the obvious.
"And I want to know why." Aeryn finished.
"Maybe they’re not strong enough. Maybe…." John became silent, the scenarios running through his mind on how any of this could be possible. The crew looked to him impatiently. They were scared and in the hands of someone they considered inferior to them. They did trust the human, but they still had their reserves about him.
John suddenly looked up and snapped his fingers. He looked to Pilot.
"Pilot, was there a solar system here at one time? Can Moya at least detect that? Anything at all that could be the result of all the matter we see out there?" John asked.
Pilot looked to his console before him in his chamber. He depressed a panel and tapped a button. After a long pause he looked up.
"Nothing but empty space." Pilot responded.
John’s face drew serious and he turned slowly to look back out the view screen. His shipmates stared at him in question, some glancing back and forth between him and the black holes. Aeryn stepped forward to face John. She brought up a hand and grasped John’s chin. She turned his head to face her, his eyes glazed over in worry and dread. John’s eyes settled onto Aeryn.
"What is it?" Aeryn demanded an answer.
"There’s only one explanation. Those black holes…are remnants of failed wormholes. Someone’s been attempting to create wormholes…and are screwing up badly." John answered. Silence fell amongst the group and they all faced the view screen once more. The swirling mass of matter around the black holes held an eerie feeling. Now the only question was who was trying to create the wormholes turned black holes?
*****
The spinning spirals of colorful light were already dimming. A few even dissipated, blending in with the black canvas of the surrounding space. These mysterious black holes were collapsing into themselves fast.
Moya hovered at a somewhat safe distance, stationary and quiet. Her senses warned of high levels of radiation—even higher than a Leviathan ship could handle for long periods of time. Though in slight distress, Moya was faithful to the crew she sheltered. She remained in place, awaiting orders.
"So what you’re saying essentially, is that we’re frelled." John stated in a bewildered voice. Seated on the console in front of Pilot in Pilot’s den, the human was desperately trying to rationalize the wormholes. Pilot was annoyed. John was annoyed. And Stark was annoyed.
"Would you get to the point please? Any more of this nonsense and I’ll be joining Zhaan much sooner than I had planned!" Stark screeched as he raced across the pathway to Pilot and John. His face was reddened in anger…well, the left side that wasn’t covered by his metal mask anyway. John straightened his posture and glared at Stark.
"We are not going anywhere Stark. You must study your opponent before you head into battle. Thought you would have learned that one by now." John barked. He turned to Pilot who was busily communicating with Moya.
"You’re sounding more and more like a PeaceKeeper." Stark insulted John. John slowly turned his head to glare at Stark with narrowed eyes. Stark felt no fear. He was merely as sane as the human on all accounts.
John opened his mouth to reply but quickly recanted. He turned back to Pilot.
"We’re not frelled, Commander. If we were, we would be as you call it…space dust by now. Moya’s senses indicate that these black holes of yours are dissipating and collapsing inwards. They’re essentially harmless now." Pilot assured the distressed human. John’s shoulders drooped and his face displayed frustration.
"Pilot." John stated and leaned forward to point to a pulsing green control before Pilot. "Those radiation levels are enough to poison both you and Moya. And once that radiation seeps in, it’ll kill all of us, too. And my anatomy sure as hell ain’t designed to enjoy those kinda rays of sunshine."
Pilot gave John the usual strange look of misunderstanding. John could almost see the thought pass through his large shell head. You are the strangest creature I have ever met.
Stark stepped forward to remind the two he was still there, fretting over their current situation. He leaned onto the console with his hands and looked at Pilot with his one wide eye.
"I demand you to turn around immediately and get us out of here!" Stark ordered.
John frowned as he allowed his foot to swing back and forth over the console. He observed Stark in silence. The first time John had met the Banik Slave was back when he was imprisoned on the Gammak Base. John shivered. The painful experience of the Aurora Chair remained like an opened wound in his memory. Stark had dealt with the chair far longer than John had and in fact seemed quite insane the first day they met. Soon, John discovered Stark’s anatomy allowed for extreme pain and suffering. In fact, he could even ease other’s pain and did so when John had been extremely weak from the effects of the dreaded chair. After several bizarre and harrowing events over two cycles, Stark was now here with him on Moya, living the life of a fugitive. John looked down, trying not to think of the other being he had met at the base and listened to Stark and Pilot argue.
"Maybe you would like to take a venture outside to help things along." Pilot was saying. John muffled a laugh. Stark sent him a glare.
"We must do something!" Stark cried.
John hopped off the console and faced Stark.
"Cool it. We all signed on knowing the terms. You can’t step out on this one. It’s all the way or nothing. And nothing means going out there, into space." John stared straight into Stark’s angered eye. He took a deep breath. "Listen, why don’t you go get something to eat or meditate or do whatever it is that makes you calm and rational. Pilot and I have things under control…for the most part."
John flashed Stark a smile. Stark seemed to calm down slightly. He looked to Pilot who nodded in confirmation and then looked back to John. A suspicious look passed through Stark’s face before he turned and left Pilot’s den. John turned back to Pilot and released a deep breath.
"D’Argo and I will inspect the fluid lines in maintenance bay 3 to see if we can’t cross-reference the Defense Shield for some long-term protection." John stated in a calm voice, forming a plan as he spoke. Pilot nodded with worry blanketing the fear both he and Moya felt. John turned half way and looked back to Pilot. He smiled once more. "Don’t worry, Pilot…we’ve been through worse."
The human marched off leaving Pilot with Moya and the controls. Somehow, Pilot sensed this was only the beginning of the worst.
Chapter 3
Red flashes. Yellow pulses. Blue sparkles. Green blinking. Strings of these colorful lights decorated the large section of a sandy beach. The ocean spilled out to an invisible horizon of a crystal clear night. A full moon rested above the graceful ocean. Soothing waves of the Atlantic crashed onto the beach. Millions upon millions of tiny sparkles of light speckled the dark sky. An occasional meteor streaked across the sky, followed by countless shouts of excitement from down below. Laughter floated into the slightly cool air. A warm bonfire lit the lonely section of beach and the ecstatic crowd of recent graduates. Many were dancing in a group near the fire to music blaring on a boom box. Others were in small clusters, drinking alcohol and pondering their futures. And two best friends rested down on the beach, away from all the madness.
Aside from the noisy crowd nearby, the two could not believe the overwhelming silence of nature surrounding them. The silence was both beautiful and frightening at the same time. Somewhat like the experience of being in space.
DK sat on a large rock, dangling his bare feet in the cold waves. John lay on the bare sand nearby watching the small meteor shower streaking across the night sky. DK glanced over at his friend and laughed to himself. This was one MIT grad who could never get enough of the stars, even on the night they were supposed to be getting drunk silly and scoring with their girlfriends.
"You are one strange person, John." DK laughed. John raised his head briefly to give DK a crazed smile.
"We’re about to run dry, my friend. How many more beers do we have left?" John called back. DK leaned over to view the contents of a blue cooler resting to the side of the rock he was seated on.
"Two. I hope the girls aren’t missing us." DK stated. John laughed.
"Don’t worry, I’m sure Melissa has plenty to keep her entertained."
"Hey! She only works at that joint to pay back her loan. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, you know!" DK said in as serious a voice as he could.
"DK?" John’s voice carried a serious tone. DK tilted his head and looked to his friend.
"Yeah?"
"Did your parents show up?" John asked of the graduation ceremony earlier that day.
"No." DK’s disappointed voice answered. John hoisted himself upwards and looked to DK.
"Look, I’m sorry man. Just know that my Mom and Dad are as proud of you as they are of me. In fact, probably ten percent more!" John winked.
DK let out a small laugh. He shifted so his body was facing John. He scooped up two bottles of beer and snapped off the caps. Smoky wisps of air whirled above the lips of the bottles. DK stood and handed one to John. He sat back down on the rock and took a gulp of his beer. The gentle waves crashed along the beach in the silence. The two men contemplated about life for quite a long time before speaking once again.
"What are we going to do now?" DK asked, not really expecting an answer. He looked to the sky, almost begging for a response from above. John lay back down on his back and observed the stars, the question running through his mind.
A rather large meteor glazed across the atmosphere hundreds of miles above. Both DK and John muttered in surprise at the brightness of this meteor and continued to as it streaked on and grew brighter. The burning meteor now becoming a meteorite sparked something within John. He snapped his fingers, startling DK into spilling a little of his drink. John watched the meteorite fizzle out and sat up in excitement. DK could swear he could see the excitement glowing in his friend’s eyes through the darkness.
"Man oh man why didn’t I think of this before! Atmospheric friction…traveling at the speed of light…it’s all possible DK. It’s been at our fingertips since the beginning of mankind and no one’s ever even thought of it!" John rambled on at light speed, his hand raised with a finger lowering on each point made. DK looked at his friend as if he had just come from another planet.
"Maybe you’ve had a little too much to drink…."
"DK! Listen to me! Since the beginning of the space program, humans have been limited by travel in outer space. Traveling at light speed. It was simply impossible to generate enough power…we’ve got it, DK. All along, we’ve been staring at the answer all along." John’s voice began to rise in excitement. DK began to catch on, with excitement growing within his own stomach now.
"Traveling at light speed. We’d need a shuttle with damned high quality aerodynamic design to do that." DK muttered, making about as much sense as his friend at the moment. Equations, thoughts, theories, and physics raced through both the graduates’ minds.
"Using the Earth’s atmospheric friction and the speed generated from that…DK…we could send a shuttle into unprecedented interstellar travel." John said. His stomach was fluttering, his heart was racing, and his mind was littered with possibilities.
"To Pluto and back in less than a week." DK smiled. The two nodded to each other in perfect understanding. Though sketchy at the moment, this was the beginning of an incredible theory that would change both their futures.
Nearly half an hour passed. DK ventured to the main party to gather more alcohol. John lay in place with a smile plastered on his face. Exciting ideas were formulating in his mind. A loud clapping noise disrupted his thoughts. John lifted his head and his smile slipped into a frown. Seated on the rock where DK had previously sat was Scorpius. John sat up with caution. Scorpius lowered his arms and gave John a chilling smile. The moonlight shone off his leather suit as Scorpius stood. John scrambled to stand.
DK called to him like he had in John’s original memory, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. John’s heart rate quickened and the half consumed beer bottle in his hand slipped from his grasp, toppling over on the sand by his bare feet.
John stared into the dark, hollow eyes of Scorpius, feeling an intense rage filling his every bone. DK called once again. In the original memory, John had answered. This time, nothing came from his opened mouth. DK answered as if John had responded just like in the original memory. John titled his head. What was going on?
*****
John was slightly disoriented. How had he gotten to Tier 3? He remembered leaving Pilot’s den but he could not for the life of him remember traveling all the way to Tier 3. At least he was still on course for maintenance bay 3. Had he asked D’Argo to meet him there yet? John shook his head. What was going on this time with his mind? He tapped his comms when Aeryn appeared down the hall, traveling towards him. John’s heart skipped a beat at the beauty passing him by. He loved her more intensely than he had ever physically and mentally loved a woman. And he now knew that feeling was mutual since Aeryn had proclaimed her love for him just monens ago.
Aeryn did not acknowledge him, however. She kept walking, her face set in anger. John would have thought this typical of the ex-PeaceKeeper a cycle or two ago, but knew better. He caught up to her and grasped her right arm gently. Aeryn spun around, her long black hair swirling in the air, glinting off the light of the hall. John looked into her troubled eyes as she came to a stop, facing him. He released his grip on her arm and frowned.
"What’s wrong?" John asked gently. Aeryn blinked and held her emotions at bay. John could see she was fighting back tears. He wanted to bring her close in an embrace but somehow sensed now wasn’t the right time.
"We need to get out of here now and no one is doing a single frelling thing about it. I’m going to Pilot. I know I can do something." Aeryn had always displayed incredible devotion to Moya.
"Really, what’s wrong, Aeryn?" John asked again, unsatisfied with her answer. Aeryn stepped forward, her face growing stone cold. John instantly began to regret stopping her in the first place.
"Your frelling wormholes, that’s what’s wrong. They blind you. You don’t see the danger. You react with your emotions and not your intelligence. It is stupid and selfish. Don’t you see what you’re doing to Moya? To Pilot? To your crewmates? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say your more fahrbot now than before the surgery on your brain!" Aeryn exploded with anger. Her face grew red as she shouted into John’s bitter expression. John’s patience was wearing thin. Aeryn was only seeing her side of the situation and it was making him angrier than she appeared to be. Aeryn, in John’s eyes, had chosen the wrong moment to release her anger towards him.
"Wormholes? Is that what this is all about? Explain to me please why you won’t even get close with me lately?" John roared back. "Is it because I’m human and you’re Sebacean? We wouldn’t want to contaminate the bloodlines now would we? It would do your species some good to gain a little intelligence and heart."
John stepped forward, so that both were now nose to nose. They glared at each other, daring the other to say something that would give one an excuse to strike the other. She called me selfish. John couldn’t believe Aeryn was so blind to his devotion to his research. He had the mivonks to insult me. Aeryn had expected strange and dull-witted words from this human before but he had crossed a line this time.
"What’s with you lately, really?" John pressed the issue. Aeryn glared at John, her look warning him to go no further on the subject.
"Maybe I should be asking you the same thing. You seem distant. Are you sure Scorpius isn’t bothering you again?" Aeryn stated. She held her ground before John, her fists clenched. John took immediate defense at the mention of Scorpius.
"I am no longer under his control, Aeryn. You know that." John raised his voice.
"How can I trust you completely again? I don’t deny my love for you but…." Aeryn stopped. She could not believe she had said that. John paused as well, realizing how hard it was for Aeryn to speak of her feelings. John stepped closer to Aeryn, breaking the boundary she had been protecting.
"But what?" John replied softly, feeling his love for her conquer his anger.
"I…I…." Aeryn stuttered, distracted by John as he ran his gentle hand across the small of her back.
Before John could do anything more, Aeryn shoved her hands into his chest, pushing him away. She began to walk away but John grabbed her arm and brought her back to face him.
"I’m getting sick and tired of this crap, Aeryn. Talk to me!" John raged.
"I don’t know where my future is going anymore, John. I’ve never really had to think about it before. I was a soldier destined to die in battle. I’m no longer a soldier. I don’t even know who I am or where I came from." Aeryn spilled out the truth. John was shocked. This had to be a first for Aeryn. She never had revealed her inner turmoil to him in the past like this.
"That wasn’t so hard, was it?"
"I’m serious, John. I don’t know where I belong anymore. I…I want to leave Moya." Aeryn revealed the ultimatum that had been swirling within her for weekens now. John dropped his jaw in shock.
"What?!" He shouted and shook his head. "I won’t let you, Aeryn. I love you…I can’t let you leave."
"What happens when you find a wormhole to take you home?" Aeryn challenged.
Their heated argument instantly sparked something between the two. John grabbed Aeryn and embraced her. She welcomed John’s embrace and wrapped her arms around him. Their lips met and they kissed passionately for microts, nearly teetering over several times. The couple bumped into a nearby wall and continued to kiss. They were completely focused on each other, unaware of everything around them. His heart raced and his mind swirled as he kissed harder. Her body tingled and she pressed her body onto his, kissing back with the same intensity she received. Nothing in this universe could distract the lovers now.
*****
[An arn later…]
A cloudy wisp of steam swirled up through the cylindrical columns protecting Moya’s essential neural clusters in maintenance bay 3. D’Argo stood beside the columns, staring into the steam, lost in his own thoughts.
"Hand me that wrench, will you?" John’s muffled voice called out from the pit within the columns. His right hand stretched out towards D’Argo.
D’Argo did not respond. He continued to gaze as John hoisted himself up out of the pit he was working in. John looked at D’Argo impatiently.
"I’d say Earth to D’Argo but it seems Moya to D’Argo would be more appropriate. What’s up, big guy?" John asked. He swung his legs around so he could sit facing D’Argo.
With a solemn expression, D’Argo leaned up against one of the columns beside John. He took a deep breath and exhaled.
"I miss my son." D’Argo stated simply. The Luxan’s eyes had grown misty as he spoke.
John knew the feeling all too well. He smiled at D’Argo and patted his friend on the shoulder.
"He’ll be okay, D’Argo. He was on his own long before you two were reunited. He’s young. He needs to figure things out for himself."
"John, I pushed him away." D’Argo spoke with intensity. He shook his hand to accent his points. "I hurt my son. I should have been embracing him; teaching him of Luxan traditions and honors like my father had taught me. I should have been sharing the memory of his mother so he could know what a glorious woman she was."
"D’Argo." John began. He stood to be in more direct eye contact with D’Argo. "Jothee knows who his mother was. He’ll always remember her as a loving, caring mother. He won’t forget her. No son could ever do that." John shook his head; his own eyes began to moisten. D’Argo sensed sadness in John’s voice. He titled his head but remained focused on the current issue.
"Jothee needs a father, John. He needs someone to tell him everything’s okay. I don’t want him struggling to survive each day like we do. He deserves so much more than what fate has handed him." D’Argo glared at John. The strongest emotions were swirling within him. Tears were floating in his eyes but anger burned deep within them. John grew weary of the Luxan’s emotional state. John nodded once, tightened his lips, and then relaxed his posture.
"Don’t worry, D’Argo. Jothee already has an incredible father. He’ll be fine. He’s a survivor…just like you and me." John responded finally. He then turned back to the neural cluster.
"Jothee is a strong young man, you’re right. But can I trust he’ll do the right thing? He sure as hezmana didn’t when left alone on Moya with Chiana!" D’Argo enraged, his voice escalating in anger. John spun around to face D’Argo once more; tired of the anger the Luxan had been carrying around within himself for monens since Jothee and Chiana had betrayed him.
"Forgive and forget, D’Argo." John bit back. "It’s in Chiana’s blood. Frell, they’re both young and stupid. Are you sure you didn’t do something like that when you were their age?"
D’Argo snapped. He lashed his tongue out at John. John leaned back quickly, barely escaping the tongue-lashing. He instantly retrieved his pulse pistol from its holster and had it aimed at D’Argo before either man could take his next breath. D’Argo backed away from the column he had been leaning on to face John. Both men nervously yet carefully observed the other, waiting for an excuse to strike.
"John, D’Argo, have you reconfigured the neural cluster yet?" Pilot’s untimely question came over the comms.
"No!" Both men growled in response. The tone of their voices was enough for Pilot not to respond.
"Cool it, D’Argo." John warned.
"Or what, you’ll shoot me?" D’Argo laughed.
"I just might." John answered. His eyes never left D’Argo’s. His face was beginning to redden with anger. D’Argo suddenly realized the intensity of the situation and took a deep breath.
"Look, I’m sorry John. I got angry." D’Argo tried to calm the situation.
"Yeah, well you get angry a lot. Maybe you should look into some anger management courses." John stated with annoyance as he holstered his weapon. Both men then relaxed.
"Maybe you should join me." D’Argo stated with sincerity. John tilted his head and sent a doubtful look D’Argo’s way.
"Just promise me you’ll give Chiana another chance. She’s crazy about you." John said. He then crawled back into the pit he had been working in. He glanced back up at D’Argo to see that he was considering with heart what John had suggested.
D’Argo knew the human was right yet again. He still felt love for Chiana. In fact he had cared for her like no other woman since Lo’Laan. Yet he could not let go of the past. Chiana had betrayed him and tried to deceive him. It had all been for her benefit. If D’Argo couldn’t get past that, then he could never move forward with her again.
"Hey, D’Argo, the wrench? Please?" John called out, stretching his hand out once again from within the pit. D’Argo’s thoughts were disrupted.
"Oh, here." D’Argo said, scooping up the wrench resting on a tool crate nearby. He placed the wrench in John’s hand. John grasped the wrench and began to work once again.
"Thanks, D’Argo." John called out.
"No…thank you, my friend." D’Argo stated. John raised his head up in surprise. D’Argo smiled at him and headed out of the maintenance bay leaving John to work alone. A look of confusion enveloped John’s face. He shrugged and then clambered back into the pit. At least somebody on this ship was going to make amends.
*****
D’Argo rested his Qualta Blade on the table in his quarters. He gazed at the weapon fondly, thinking of his son who only monens earlier had finally come back into his life. D’Argo was about to discuss something with Jothee when his son had picked up the Qualta Blade, admiring it with wonder and awe. D’Argo could sense the pride his son had for him. However, he also had sensed the anger Jothee carried beneath the surface. Why had Jothee and Chiana disrespected him? D’Argo was still angry about the affair between his former love and his son. Now that Jothee was gone on a quest to find himself and Chiana was left to make amends, D’Argo was unsure of what he wanted for his future. A small sound distracted D’Argo. He sniffed the air and smiled slightly, savoring the sweet smell of Chiana. He turned to face the Nebari standing in the doorway behind him, her face streaked with tears.
D’Argo stepped towards her at the same time that she stepped towards him. The two met up in the center of D’Argo’s quarters. D’Argo reached to place his hands on Chiana’s shoulders but retreated awkwardly. Chiana looked up to him and flashed a small smile of embarrassment. D’Argo’s eyes were soft and caring, nearly causing Chiana to fall in love with the Luxan harder than ever. Her feelings for him remained true, no matter what kind of tralk she could be. Unfortunately, being a tralk was in her nature and only now was she beginning to behave more devoted to one being. Throughout the two and a half cycles living aboard Moya, Chiana had grown more mature and stronger than ever. D’Argo realized this in her and loved her for it. He only wished that he could truly love her for everything she was once again.
"D’Argo." Chiana addressed him.
"Chiana." D’Argo responded in the same tone.
"You have to trust me, D’Argo. If we’re going to be…friends now. This ship is only so big for the both of us to be avoiding each other all the time. I may be young but I know what’s right and what’s wrong. I make mistakes. We all make mistakes. What truly makes someone who they are is if they can forgive another for an unforgivable act. D’Argo, you’re a sweet, strong, sexy man and I…." Chiana stopped, realizing she had stepped closer to D’Argo and had begun to twirl his braid like she had always done in the past. D’Argo had frozen, unsure of what to do or feel. Chiana backed off again and looked down for a moment. "What can I do to make things the way they used to be?"
D’Argo remained silent. Chiana felt as if a weight had partially lifted off of her shoulders. Yet she still shivered with anxiety, wondering where their relationship would go from here.
"Nothing." D’Argo finally replied but then smiled. "We’ll just have to start over."
"I know I’m a tralk and that’s what everyone expects me to be but…what did you say?" Chiana rambled on for a moment before realizing what D’Argo had suggested. Her heart skipped a beat and she stole a step forward. She tilted her head at D’Argo and smiled flirtatiously.
"As friends, Chiana. Nothing more…at least not for a while. I think we both need some time alone." D’Argo explained and smiled caringly at Chiana.
"I can respect that." Chiana nodded with a serious voice. She stepped back and looked to the floor. D’Argo paused and then drew Chiana in for a hug. The two embraced warmly, as friends and nothing more.
D’Argo let out a big breath and released Chiana. Chiana looked up at D’Argo’s face, waiting to see what he would do next. D’Argo only smiled back at her, his eyes telling her he still loved her but his actions showing her that their romance was over. Chiana beamed back at him and the two knew at that moment that things were finally getting better between them.
*****
Stark sifted through the few physical remnants Zhaan had possessed during her stay on Moya. He sat in the center of his former lover’s quarters, smiling fondly at the memories that passed through his somewhat distressed mind. Stark gazed at Zhaan’s ceremonial objects among the remnants and looked towards the ceiling. He closed his eye and looked inward on himself, searching for the place Zhaan had taught him to go. This place was a sacred place in the soul, where a being could be one with the universe and one with himself. This was also where Stark could reach Zhaan in the afterlife…if he was lucky.
All physical surroundings disappeared and Stark felt pure peace. He breathed in deeply and opened his eye. All around him was a white plane of empty space. He turned slowly, his arms outstretched in caution. Zhaan was there and he could sense it. But where?
"Stark." Zhaan’s gentle voice stated. So close Stark swore he could feel her breath on the back of his neck. He turned and true to his intuition, Zhaan was standing there before him, smiling more beautifully than he remembered of her.
"Zhaan! Oh Zhaan!" Stark cried and reached for the Delvian. They connected in a hug. After a microt, Stark looked Zhaan straight in the eyes and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. Zhaan released her grip on Stark and stepped away. Stark’s shoulder’s drooped as he began to think she was leaving him. Instead, Zhaan only smiled back and tilted her head in wonder.
"How did you ever become so sweet?" Zhaan asked, not expecting an answer. Stark smiled at his love.
"You made me more than I ever thought I could be." Stark responded.
"What is it that troubles you so?" Zhaan pondered further. Stark’s smile faded. He already knew what she spoke of. True, he was quite an unsettled individual. He would often become frantic and react on pure emotion. Stark could only blame the dreaded Aurora Chair he had spent two cycles with Scorpius fine-tuning it’s efficiency.
"N-n-nothing. Nothing at all, Zhaan. I am here with you and that’s all I need." Stark stuttered. Zhaan tilted her head in the other direction. Her eyes were almost piercing into Stark’s own soul. He was beginning to feel that all too familiar urge to snap start to fill his existence.
"Why do you lie to me, Stark?" Zhaan asked.
"I would never lie to you, my love! Never!" Stark cried, falling to his knees.
"Harness your anger, Stark. Know that I will always love you. Remember everything I have taught you about your mind. Goodbye Stark." Zhaan stated. Her image faded from view.
Stark cried out, reaching for her and fell to the floor on Moya with a thud. He blinked several times, pulling himself up from the floor. The white space was gone just as instantly as Zhaan. A few of Zhaan’s possessions rolled away from Stark’s feet as he stood up abruptly. A bewildered expression formed onto his exposed face. Stark backed out of Zhaan’s quarters slowly. The moment he arrived at the doorway, he turned and made a mad dash for the hall, racing as far from the quarters as possible.
*****
Aeryn stared into the mass of black holes out the view screen. A feeling of dread had settled into her stomach. Her dark eyes carried a trace of fear. This ex-PeaceKeeper who had always had the notion of dying during battle, could not comprehend the newest threat to her existence. Granted she was trained only as a soldier, not as a tech or scientist. She could not even begin to understand the gibberish from John about these black holes. She smiled warmly at the thought of the human. Their earlier encounter had been amazing. But the two quickly separated afterwards and headed their separate ways, as if they had nothing further to discuss. Aeryn had felt lost yet satisfied...the tension between the two was now gone. And while Aeryn had learned to rely on her feelings, she did not want to acknowledge the sinking sensation that provoked alarm within her. She knew she had to be focused and alert.
Chiana and Rygel had retreated to the Galley to eat even in the time of crisis, as usual. Jool had accompanied them as well, muttering something about fearing for her life and complaining about it, as usual. D’Argo had been called to assist John, as usual. And Stark was nowhere to be seen, again as usual. Aeryn was standing in Command, with nothing better to do than stare out the view screen and ponder what life could have in store for her now. Ever since her recent death and resurrection, Aeryn had a new outlook on her life. She felt the first half had been wasted on being a soldier, nothing more, and nothing less. A life valued in number, in battle against the enemy. She was realizing there was so much more and that her life was a gift. Zhaan had risked everything to bring her back to a life she did not want to return to. Zhaan had died to save her. Aeryn owed it to Zhaan and herself to do more. Be more.
The black holes appeared to be collapsing in on themselves now. The strong pull on Moya had lessened. The threat now appeared to be diminishing. Aeryn was almost tempted to leave and resume her daily exercises. But something caught her eye. Aeryn stepped forward, placing a hand on the console before her. Her heart began to beat faster. A spark of happiness ignited within.
"Pilot!" Aeryn called into her comms. She turned to see Pilot’s image appear on the clamshell. She then turned back to the view screen to watch the object she had spied coming closer.
"Yes, offi…Aeryn?" Pilot asked, nearly forgetting their earlier conversation. Aeryn did not notice.
"Talyn! I see Talyn. He’s coming this way." Aeryn announced. Pilot checked his scans.
"Moya does not sense any…." Pilot began. Aeryn interrupted him.
"I see him, Pilot. He’s coming towards us. Establish contact immediately." Aeryn ordered.
"Moya cannot sense Talyn nor can she receive any frequencies from him. Perhaps the radiation levels have skewed transmissions. I will try once more." Pilot informed Aeryn.
"They’ve most likely seen us by now. I’m going to the Docking Bay." Aeryn stated and left Command.
As she headed for the Docking Bay, Aeryn reminisced about the gunship she had grown to care deeply for. Talyn was Moya’s offspring. He was a hybrid gunship, half Leviathan with PeaceKeeper weaponry genetics. While still a baby, Talyn was separated from his mother.
Aeryn thought of the man who had taken over and commandeered Talyn, Captain Crais. Like Aeryn, Crais was now an ex-PeaceKeeper. And like Aeryn, he had bonded with the hybrid gunship. The little ship had adopted him and him alone as its temporary captain. Every instance that Moya and Talyn met, Aeryn jumped at the chance to board Talyn. Somehow, she felt at peace on the gunship.
Chapter 4
"Remember, Talyn. There must be no mention to Moya as to where we have been. She does not need to know anything of Scorpius’ new Gammak Base." Crais spoke to his ship. Numerous bleeping and flashing lights illuminated the interior cabin of the adolescent gunship Crais was commandeering.
Talyn was not too happy with this request. Moya was his mother and he wanted to impress her with his travels and achievements. Unfortunately, Moya would not approve of most of his adventures. This was because Talyn had a harsh PeaceKeeper side to him that allowed for fighting in battles and rushing into situations without much thought. On the other hand, his Leviathan qualities included loyalty, trust, and friendship. He could be a caring little hybrid…when he wanted to be.
"Talyn, please. You must trust me. It is for Moya’s own benefit." Crais persuaded.
He smiled as Talyn’s bleeping commenced. He had been joined, via a neural transponder, with Talyn a cycle ago. He understood the gunship’s every emotion, every thought, every impulse. Crais stepped forward to view Talyn’s mother out the view screen. They were already approaching the area where Talyn would dock so Crais could travel in a transport pod over to Moya. The enormous Leviathan looked somewhat stressed, under the incredible gravitational chaos occurring throughout the present field of black holes Talyn was entering.
"You must remain quiet about the secrecy of this base. The human, John Crichton especially must not know of Scorpius’ existence or his work at the base. Can you promise me this?" Crais asked and paused, awaiting an answer. The ship bleeped once. Crais smiled even more brilliantly and stood at attention, awaiting their arrival to Moya.
Fifteen microns later a transport pod carrying Crais landed in the Docking Bay with a gentle thud. The Docking Bay doors closed behind the pod. All preparations to make the atmosphere breathable were completed. Crais emerged from the ship and approached Aeryn, the only one of the crew standing in the Docking Bay at the moment. He smiled, both glad to see that Aeryn had come to greet him and that she was alone. Aeryn’s harsh expression softened slightly. Crais knew it was because she was close to Talyn once again. He wanted to believe, however, that it was because she had feelings for him.
"Crais." Aeryn acknowledged him, her eyes displaying no emotion.
"Aeryn." Crais stated, masking his smile.
"What are you doing here, Crais? Why haven’t you or Talyn been affected by those black holes as Crichton calls them? If you know anything at all about these things, tell me now." Aeryn ordered in a cold voice.
"I know nothing of these "black holes". Talyn and I are just as intrigued by them as you must be. We bring you some urgent information. However, I have a much more pressing matter for you alone to consider." Crais stated and did not wait for a reaction from Aeryn. "I have in my possession, a chip. A chip containing information about your past."
Aeryn’s eyes widened in surprise. She quickly recovered, growing cautious. Her past had always been mysterious…especially the exact identity of her parents. She peered at Crais in question, urging him to continue.
"Never mind how I got it; I know that’s what you must be wondering. What matters is what’s on this chip. It is of extreme importance." Crais continued.
"Where is it?" Aeryn demanded to know.
"Somewhere safe." Crais teased.
"No games, Crais. Give me the chip. I must know what is on that chip!" Aeryn argued. She stepped forward, her anger emulating. Aeryn thought of everything she was struggling with since coming back from the dead. She realized her future was uncertain now. Her life had been changing from the moment she encountered Moya, John, and everything they had struggled with from then until now. Before hand, she had been living a life engraved with set ways from birth to death. Aeryn almost didn’t know what to do with herself.
Crais knew he would have to divert her attention quickly. Aeryn’s past had always been shadowed and any chance to reveal its secrets was at the top of her list of priorities. Crais chuckled to himself and looked Aeryn in the eyes. He loved those dark eyes. They complimented her flowing black hair.
"More important things first." Crais stated, fully in control of the situation. He walked towards the center of the Docking Bay. Aeryn turned to face him.
"I demand you hand over that chip." Aeryn raged.
"Talyn and I have discovered very important information regarding everyone’s immediate future. I will discuss this further with the rest of the crew…where are they?" Crais said. Aeryn stepped forward, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. She knew Crais would not give her what she wanted…not without the right price. She coldly walked past him.
"We’ll talk in Command." Aeryn stated and headed out of the Docking Bay. Crais smiled to himself and quickly followed.
The rest of the crew was waiting impatiently in Command by the time Aeryn and Crais entered. John eyed Aeryn but she ignored him and headed over to the opposite side of Command, near the clamshell displaying Pilot’s image. Crais nodded a greeting to them all and came to a stop before them.
"Talyn and I have discovered quite a few things that will pique your interests since our last encounter. We felt it was of extreme importance that once we located your position, we notify you of the danger you are in. And by the look of things, I see we may be a little too late." Crais joked, looking out the view screen at the swirling black holes before them. Not a single being before Crais was smiling, however. John glared at Crais, gaining eye contact with the ex-captain for a microt. Crais looked away.
"We don’t have much time if you haven’t noticed." Chiana remarked. She stood beside D’Argo, who was glaring at Crais just as sternly as John was.
"On with it, Crais. I’m getting hungry." Rygel stated in a dull voice. He hovered near the doorway, with Jool close to his side. She was unsure of what to make of this Crais and knew she didn’t care to stay around and find out. Stark stood nearby as well, his eye narrowed in suspicion towards Crais.
"I’ll get right to the point. The Scarrans have been to blame for the recent slaying of a high-ranking officer in High Command. The Scarrans are strategically killing PeaceKeeper officers of high status. This has lead to evidence of covert operations on PeaceKeeper Colonies and Command Carriers as well. A rebellious Command Carrier retaliated against several known Scarran spies near the border of the Uncharted Territories earlier this monen. They were…unsuccessful. From what I can gather, the Scarrans are seeking knowledge." Crais informed the crew. He paused and looked straight to John, relishing in the uneasiness seeping onto the human’s face.
"Knowledge? What kind of knowledge?" D’Argo demanded an answer. The tension in the room was growing stronger by the micron.
"Wormholes." Crais stated. Nearly everyone turned to look to John, with almost annoyed expressions. They were shocked only to a point. John raised his chin and remained quiet.
"Unfortunately, that is not the worst of the news I bring you today." Crais continued. The crew turned to look to Crais once again, their faces showing concern. "The Scarrans are searching. Obviously everything they are doing leads to the wormhole technology. And while they cannot seem to find Scorpius, they do know the one true source of all this information. And they will do whatever it takes to get it. I’m sorry, Crichton, but it seems that you are being hunted by an even more insane species than my own or even Scorpius."
John clenched his teeth as Crais looked to him with his most sincere expression. He knew deep down that Crais was exhilarated by this news.
"Tell ‘em to get in line." John growled.
"Why should we trust you?" Stark asked Crais, eyeing the ex-peacekeeper captain with distrust.
Crais glanced over his shoulder at the Banik slave.
"I do not ask for your trust. Talyn and I both are concerned for Moya and those who inhabit her." Crais glanced at Aeryn briefly.
"We’ll take into regard everything you have told us." Aeryn stated.
The crew began to separate, heading out of Command to be away from Crais and the new information they did not want to believe. Crais watched Aeryn leave, smirking at her the entire time. Aeryn glared back, showing Crais she could be as cold as him. She then left Command, leaving Crais to stare out at the black holes before them. Crais smiled. Everything had played exactly to his expectations.
******
After the intense conversation between Crais and the others, John had decided to return to the maintenance bay to inspect the work he had completed arns earlier. As he worked his fingers into the tangled mess of nerves, John was struck with a strong flash of images from his past once again.
The grass was greener than ever under the clearing blue skies above. The morning rainstorm had passed quickly, allowing the sun to break through the heavy clouds and warm up the day. Lines upon lines of gray granite tombstones stood like dominoes against the grass. A few large oak trees shaded the wet paved path twisting throughout Memorial Cemetery. A line of black Cadillacs following a Hearse inched their way through the cemetery. Each vehicle boasted small American flags secured onto either end of the front of the vehicles. The flags whipped around in the remaining wind of the storm. Distant thunder quieted nearby chirping birds. The day appeared the same as any other. Yet something was slightly off.
A crowd of mourning souls stood around an open gravesite. The skies had completely cleared by now and the wind had died down to a whisper. Nearly every person at the gravesite had tears in their eyes. A shimmering gray casket was settled onto brackets stationed above the open grave, waiting to rest six feet down for the rest of time. The disease that had struck the soul within the casket had been painful and slow. Nothing could have prevented it and nothing could have stopped it. The only remorse for those closest to the deceased woman was the fact that her death had finally come.
Oh God, the funeral. How could he have forgotten such a miserable day?
The priest overseeing the funeral said little. His words were of no comfort to the immediate family. The death had seemed sudden, because the cancer had revealed itself only four months earlier. Four months to let the deceased know how much she had been loved and appreciated. Four months to relish her humor, her love, and most of all, her life. Four months was like a blink of an eye.
Jack Crichton stood alone at the grave site after the rest of the relatives, friends, and acquaintances had paid their respects and returned home to their own fulfilled lives. He had been allowed to stay with his wife one last time alone. For a half hour anyway.
He hadn’t seen it at first. Leslie would come home from work looking completely exhausted. She would skip dinner and go straight to bed. He had been busy, working on training for the next lunar mission at IASA. He figured she was just putting in more hours, working harder for that promotion. The one Sunday afternoon he had decided to go to the office to go over a few things was when everything changed. Leslie had collapsed in the backyard, while working in the garden. The neighbors had discovered her. His two daughters had left after the morning picnic and John had been with Alex in Maine. By the time he had gotten to the hospital, Leslie had already been admitted for observation. The doctors had said there was a tumor. She immediately had it removed but weeks later another one surfaced…this one inoperable. Leslie was given four months. Jack spent every waking moment with his dying wife, caring for her. He argued with the doctors, just knowing they had to be wrong, there had to be another way. But as each week drew closer to the end of his wife’s life, Jack could see in her eyes that this was it. Not even the dangers that he faced as an astronaut scared him more.
A sound behind Jack disrupted his thoughts. He smiled at his son, dressed in a tuxedo identical to his own. John was a handsome man with the heart of his mother and the bravery of his father. John flashed a brief smile at his dad. John saw the tears in his father’s eyes and felt his heart tear.
John was confused more than ever now. He realized that this flash of disjointed memories were not entirely his own. He was beginning to wonder if his mind wasn’t just making things up at this point. He didn’t dismiss the Scorpy clone hard at work, either.
The day had been rough. Throughout the funeral ceremony, John was dying inside. Outside, John was strong and supportive. He felt he had to be. His father and two sisters, even DK were falling apart. They needed him to make it through the day. John would smile and laugh, trying to keep their minds at ease. But meanwhile, his heart would ache, his mind would be plagued with guilt, and his eyes would carry a dull look of shock.
John stepped forward to stand at his father’s side. The two stared down at the casket for several minutes in silence. Finally, Jack placed his left arm around John’s shoulders and brought him close for a hug. John welcomed his father’s embrace and patted him on the back. Jack looked into John’s eyes, studying them for a moment. John felt uneasy and glanced down. Jack rubbed John’s shoulder and turned to head back to the vehicle waiting to take them back. John stood alone, staring at the cold gray tombstone engraved with his mother’s name. Half of the tombstone was blank, awaiting the name of his father to be added someday in the future. John shivered despite the heat that was warming up the afternoon.
"Although I am quite intrigued by this show of customary worship of the dead, I do wish we could get to the point, John." The all too familiar voice that ran chills down John’s spine stated. John looked over to his right to see Scorpius standing beside his mother’s casket. Intense rage filled within John. He leapt for Scorpius, his hands outreached to grasp the creature’s throat. Scorpius vanished instantly, causing John to stumble and spin around.
"What are you doing in my memories?" John raged into the air. He stepped forward and saw Scorpius appear on the opposite side of the casket.
"Are these really your memories?" Scorpius riddled. John only glared back.
"Why do you feel such incredible guilt? Did you end this woman’s life?" Scorpius inquired. He was puzzled by this memory that had surfaced in the human’s mind.
"This is one place I will not allow you to be, Scorpius. Leave now." John ordered with his teeth clenched together. His face was growing more flush by the minute.
"What is so important about this memory that you are trying to hide it from me?" Scorpius pushed on, baring his deteriorating teeth.
"I’m not hiding anything from you, Scorpius! There are certain things in a person’s past that are meant to be buried and to stay buried. Leave this memory." John spat. He felt protective of his mother, as if Scorpius was really there or as if any of this was even happening at this moment. "Not everything in my brain contains information about wormholes, Scorpius. Leave. Now."
"John, John, John. Don’t you realize? You have the power here. You can get rid of me at any time. You called me here. I had no concerns with this memory. It is you who brought me here and you who can make me disappear." Scorpius stated twisted things around.
John shook his head, nearly laughing at the absurdity of the situation. So many intense emotions had been swirling within him in this memory. As he was mentally experiencing the entire memory all over again, his physical body was suffering as well. He tried to relax his posture.
"Forget it, Harvey. You’re dead." John grinned. He closed his right hand into a fist, extending only his index finger and thumb like a gun. He pointed his hand to Scorpius and lowered his thumb. A pulse, much like that of one exiting a pulse pistol, raced from his finger to Scorpius’ mid section. The evil soul immediately vanished. And so did the memory.
******
His mother’s death had scarred him. Guilt burned in his stomach for a long time, and though he did not realize it at the moment, the guilt would last a lifetime. It would even haunt him from time to time. John was seated on the shimmering Harley Davidson his father once owned. He had parked the motorcycle on a lonely country road in Florida. Eight extremely long months had passed since his mother’s death. The Farscape Project was in its first stages of gaining funding and support from the government and IASA. In fact, earlier that day, John had been turned down once again for government funding. Both he and his partner, DK, had been discouraged. With all these stresses, John had decided taking a ride to the Everglades to get away for a while.
Why am I still stuck in the past? These memories were growing more frequent and intense by the arn. And just as strange as the last memories John had experienced, this one took another leap into the bizarre by skipping instead of playing straight through.
He was on the wrong side of the highway, looking over at Bobby, a co-worker from IASA who often antagonized John. Bobby was seated in his convertible, grinning at John and pumping the accelerator with excitement. It was a challenge that John was in no mood for addressing.
John suddenly realized that this memory had always been sketchy. He allowed the memory to progress.
Smoke swirled into the midnight air, filtering past the taillights of the racing vehicles as they sped down the dark highway. Their roaring engines drowned out the sound of croaking frogs and hooting owls. A turn came up in the relatively flat road. Bobby took a sudden swerve towards John, traveling against the curve. To the best of John’s knowledge, there had been a deer. He remembered seeing its frightened eyes in someone’s headlights. Had the deer been in his path or Bobby’s?
A horrible screeching noise overcame the drone of the roaring engines. John barely remembered rolling over and over until he was so dizzy he couldn’t determine up from down. He remembered staring up at those stars, cold and confused. Sensing glaring red lights flashing his way and feeling completely numb. Watching a falling star and remembering that the concept of Farscape One was not a complete disaster if he just tried a little harder.
The remainder of this memory was not as clear, just as it hadn’t been originally. John knew he had called DK to pick him up at the hospital. But how long he had been there or why his father hadn’t been notified, he could not discern. John did know he had been the only one at the accident scene and there had been no sign of the phantom deer. His bike had been completely destroyed. Dad wouldn’t be too happy about that. John had escaped serious injury with only two broken ribs, a sprained wrist, and one hell of a concussion. John remembered telling DK to keep the entire thing quiet. Somehow, he didn’t realize at the time that his father would definitely notice the bike missing as well as the bandages John sported.
What’s the purpose of this memory? John pondered. The fact that he was witnessing this recent string of flashbacks from life on Earth was puzzling enough. John had tried to connect them in some way, struggling to see if they had meaning. If only Zhaan were here. John felt a twinge of sadness. Zhaan’s death was almost as devastating as his mother’s. Especially since he felt partially responsible.
John noticed one last thing before falling asleep in his quarters on Moya. How did I get here from Command anyway? And why am I so tired? His mind wandered for a brief microt. Back to the point… Scorpius had been absent from this memory. That along with all else that was really happening complicated everything tenfold.
******
"Crichton! Wake up, Crichton!" An urgent voice demanded. John felt a hand shaking his shoulder as he slept on his side. Another voice was low with sarcasm. "Why the frell would anyone sleep at a time like this anyway?"
John opened his eyes, immediately squinting in the brightened light of his quarters. Rygel was pushing on John while Jool stood further back with her arms crossed and her face set in a pout.
"What is it?" John grumbled, pulling his body up to sit on the edge of the bed. He rubbed his eyes and looked from Rygel to Jool.
"Everyone’s in Command. Something’s going on out there and I don’t think we should be here anymore. Ugh! Why the frell did I not die like my cousin? It would have been so much easier!" Jool cried.
John shook his head and stood. He felt extremely tired and these two creatures were the last he wanted to be with at the moment. His patience was running thin as well. Rygel grunted.
"Yotz! Not even my thronesled moves that slowly. Let’s go!" Rygel demanded.
John gave Rygel a look and headed out of his quarters with Jool and Rygel following close behind.
Their walk to Command was a silent one. Not even Rygel spoke. This alone made John’s stomach churn. What could possibly be going on for the crew to not be able to figure out a solution on their own? John turned the corner leading into Command and instantly came to a stop before the opened doorway. He could already see what was going on through the view screen. Rygel and Jool came to his side. John looked to them both and then to the crew standing near the view screen. They turned to look at him as he rushed forward, his jaw opened in shock. A sickening feeling burned deep within.
John came to Aeryn’s side, not noticing the slightly panicked look in her eyes. D’Argo had his arm around Chiana and Crais was standing as if at attention. John didn’t even take notice that Crais was still here, and not back on Talyn. Stark was cowering behind one of the consoles. Pilot’s frightened image was displayed on the clamshell to John’s left. John broke away from his shipmates to stand alone in front of the view screen. The silence within Command was deafenin | | | |
