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Written by: LeatherGirl
Archive: 9 July 2001
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!
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.
*****