Part VI

"I can’t stand this." John said, jogging toward the corridor. "I can’t just sit here and watch. There’s gotta be something I can do. I’m going after her."

He turned to the clamshell, mid-stride: "Pilot, I want those bay doors open. I don’t care how. Got it?"

"What?" Aeryn called, immediately on his heels. "You can’t be serious, Crichton."

She bolted past him, blocking his path. "What could you possibly hope to accomplish… except dying sooner than the rest of us?"

"I can’t just sit here and do nothing." He tried to step around her, but she countered each of his moves to evade her.

"Aeryn, damn it! Come on—"

"Crichton, this is madness!" She waved an accusatory hand in the direction of the impending doom of the carrier. Angrily she enunciated each word. "L’Tan is the one who brought the carrier here! Right now, we’re the ones that need to be rescued... not her!"

"That’s not it! She’s not going to the carrier to rejoin it." His voice lowered. "There’s no time for me to explain. This is something I have to do."

Their eyes locked. There was more, much more that needed to be said. But Aeryn was the first to look away. She turned from him, striding back to the shield unit.

"Fine! Go to your death, Crichton." She said in a callous hiss.

He paused in the threshold, hand outstretched to her turned back. "Aeryn, I—"

D’Argo slipped between them, oblivious to their silent exchange. "Don’t do this, John. Remember what I said... Let go."

John looked up at his friend before turning back to the corridor. "It ain’t that easy, big guy. If it were Jothee out there... don’t tell me you wouldn’t be doing the same thing."

#

"Why are you doing this, Alya?" Vedit Corsair cautiously rose from the command chair. His eyes did not leave hers. "This is a poor allegiance you have chosen. Scorpius has no power."

"You say that as though I had a choice." Alya returned.

"What did he offer? House Corsair—"

"Enough! You have no idea the risk I am taking for you right now, Vedit." The warning was tempered by the suggestion of a painful plea.

The pulse gun slowly turned away from him. But her guard was not reduced as she motioned him to the door. "There is a marauder in the hammid bay, Area 12, section 4... It’s currently assigned to dry dock. Take it."

He looked at her in disbelief. This was not his Alya, the creature he knew. Her eyes were cold blue pools of secrets, depthless. More than he could ever know. Realization trickled down his spine like ice water.

"Who are you working for... really? Not Scorpius. A faction, then?" Corsair stepped forward only to draw her weapon’s attention once more. "If you truly feared Scorpius, you would not be doing this."

Did her spine stiffen at the last accusation? Or perhaps it was a trick of the light.

She answered, voice momentarily thoughtful. "You have no idea what is at stake."

Her stern expression softened. The gun lowered to her side once more. "Move quickly, Vedit, before he returns... before I change my mind."

#

He was beyond rage. He was fury. And it was all named Corsair.

Corsair, in his idiotic fit of ambition, had to select this moment. The fool held no interest in the escaped leviathan or the wormhole technology. His own petty interests had blinded him to the true power in the capture of the human.

The snarled crackle of his knuckles filled the small space as he rolled his hands into fists. Scorpius halted his pacing and glared down at the security complement’s dead bodies, restraining the urge to kick, to rend, to tear. His true nature sought to erupt through his well-maintained exterior.

Patience.

The leviathan was so close; he fathomed that he could smell it.

Crichton... Crichton. So maddeningly close.

He resumed pacing, eyes on the door.

Waiting.

It finally opened. Alya Brin was a shape, backlit from the corridor.

"Well... is it done?" He snapped, descending upon her.

She moved further into the fold of the dim before answering. "Yes. It’s done."

His eyes narrowed on her for a long measuring moment. It occurred to him that this woman was most probably lying. After all, she had been bred to Corsair. No doubt a loyalty may have been established that would prevent her from slaying him.

But right now it did not matter.

There was Crichton. Out there. At last.

He forced himself to be still. To show calm. He granted her a condescending smile as he brushed hurriedly past. "Well done, Lieutenant Brin."

The woman recoiled slightly under his gaze. She stammered, following at his heels. "The prowlers have been launched. The leviathan’s starburst is still non-operational."

"Good. You will instruct them to take Crichton alive. No other prisoners." He stopped. "I want the leviathan searched for the experimental prowler that launched the distress beacon."

"Experimental prowler?" Brin paused, falling behind for a moment. There was no surprise in her voice, only an apprehension.

"Timing is essential." He turned on her, patience evaporating. "A key failing of your predecessor, Brin."

"Sir... a vessel has been launched from the leviathan. It’s not broadcasting an identsignal." She said, reluctance barely veiled. "Its appears to be a modified prowler."

"It’s course?"

"On an intercept with us. So far no communication has been established. Its comm array appears damaged."

Scorpius regarded the cold metal walls, rheumy eyes laying out the myriad of possibilities with this new variable. He said quietly to his absent prey. "What are you doing, Crichton? Do you think to fool me twice with the same pathetic bid you used to destroy the Gammak Base?"

Brin prodded. "Your orders?"

Scorpius renewed his hurried pace toward command. "Maintain pursuit of the leviathan. The prowler is no doubt meant to be a distraction."

#

The command carrier loomed ever closer within the field of the occulars, impossibly larger than the Jocosta. The prowler seemed lost against the huge metal monster, like a mote of dust in the swirl of a storm. L’Tan felt a stab of fear at the sight of it.

Strange. So strange.

What was once a welcome sight brought her only fear, trepidation.

And so far she had remained unnoticed by the great lumbering beast.

This was easy.

Too easy.

A ripple of suspicion settled in her hollow chest. Her fear fed upon it, hungrily, like a serpent consuming its own tail. Dimly, she realized that she had been holding her breath.

There...

The Hecht drive...

L’Tan fixed her sights to the rear of the carrier’s defensive rings, dangerously close the frag cannons.

Closer...

Closer...

The Jocosta needed to be much closer in order for her destructive plan to work. Anxiously she watched the spheroid’s readouts within the display. The device’s distortion wave signature grew at an agonizingly slow pace.

Singularity Activation Eminent

489.75

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and tried to think of a prayer, a Delvian verse to calm the soul. But there was nothing, only the mad flutter of her heart and the racing thoughts in her head.

L’Tan opened her eyes and drew in a deep breath.

Her heart stammered at the new hellish sight.

A wave of prowlers suddenly erupted from the hammid bays of the carrier. Like an angry swarm of venomous insects, they arched directly for Moya, seeming to ignore the Jocosta.

Frantically she looked back to the display.

Singularity Activation Eminent

501.78

"Come on. Come on." She coaxed in an urgent whisper.

Yet the numbers marched on dutifully keeping their pace, oblivious to her peril.

#

"Damn it! God damn it!" John cursed, still flushed from fighting his way through the disabled bay doors. "It’s never easy!"

He took in the damage once more. The prowler’s side panels stood agape. Environmental scrubbers were strewn across the floor like fallen teeth. With a disgusted flourish, he kicked the ruined components. They made a hollow clatter as they scattered across the cavernous bay.

Quickly he made his way to the Farscape 1 module. Its canopy was open as well. He peered inside. Tell-tale snips of wire decorated the interior. In the dimness he made out the vacant hollow that once housed the module’s ignition sequencer. It sat neatly on the floor, tucked beneath the seat. The module was not going anywhere anytime soon.

Feeling the painful twist of failure, he triggered his com. "Pilot? How much time before starburst?"

"5 microns... 12 microts."

There was no time left to prepare a transport pod. Not that it would do much good against a flood of prowlers.

"Damn it." He muttered. Anger seeped into his chest and quickly turned to a bitter fearful helplessness.

Eyes burning, he turned a furtive, silent plea toward the aloof arch of Moya’s bay.

Anger seeped into his chest, quickly turning to a bitter fearful helplessness.

"Damn it!" He muttered. In another sudden burst of impotent rage, he cast the flight helmet along the bay floor with a hollow clamor.

"You didn’t have to do this, Ellie." John whispered. "There’s always another way."

#

"Good fortune, Vedit." Alya said in a hurried whisper. Quickly, she changed the display at the tactical station, certain to mask the identsignal of the escaping marauder.

"Time to engage the leviathan?" The hybrid’s voice demanded at her back.

She stiffened at the sound of him, knowing that he owned her very soul.

"1 micron... 49 microts." Alya answered over her shoulder, seeking to hide her undeniable loathing.

An alert sounded at the station.

Her brow furrowed. "Sir... the modified prowler. Its energy signature has altered... significantly."

"What? What of it?" Scorpius turned on her, irritated with the distraction. He glided to the tactical station, muscling her out of the way.

His eyes widened with cheated surprise. "Impossible."

Alya frowned at the display, her own curiosity overpowering her loathing of Scorpius for the moment.

The apex of the energy wave was unmistakable.

They were witnessing the formation of a wormhole. All apparently at the control of this strange new prowler.

A cold knot formed in her stomach as her momentary wonder turned to dread.

The vessel was on a direct course for the Hecht drive.

"The containment coils... " Alya hissed. "The distortion wave could corrupt Containment."

"Disengage the leviathan now!" Scorpius’ voice deepened with cheated rage. "Destroy that prowler!"

"Frell."

Panic grabbed her heart with icy fingers.

The marauder erupted from the bay with such sudden ferocity she did not notice it until it was upon her. Her heart lurched to see it bear down upon the Jocosta with deadly intent.

L’Tan’s instinct as a pilot fought the destructive cause of her mission. Staving off the urge to evade the marauder, she locked her hands around the yoked control column and held the course toward the carrier’s Hecht drives that lay mere metras away.

Her attention darted between the approaching marauder and the spheroid’s display.

Soon...

Singularity Activation Eminent

603.6

Very soon...

There a the momentary flicker of the telltales. The familiar jolt of the distortion wave moved over her with mind numbing power. Relief mingled with her fear when she looked upon the display once again.

Spheroid Enabled

Eyes narrowed in a dare on the closing marauder, she tore a white-knuckled fist from the control column and slammed it viciously down on the activation key.

The Jocosta’s entire frame emitted a tortured whine that echoed thorough the control yoke and rattled her very core. Her shoulders rocked back within the restraints of the harness as she was tossed by the will of wormhole’s raw energy. It blossomed around her. The distortion wave moved over the skin of the carrier, cutting a deep gouge into the Hecht drive containment coils, her true target.

For L’Tan the universe became a brilliant swirl of blue and white light.

#

"How much longer, Pilot?" John called, still breathless from the race back from the bay.

"What could that possibly matter?" Chiana returned. "We’re as good as dead."

He shot her a angry glance. "Can it, Pip."

"Starburst in 30 microts." Pilot’s image answered from the clamshell. The navigator’s eyebrow lifted in a sudden expression of incredulity. "Commander...It appears an energy vortex is forming... in close proximity to the command carrier."

"The Jocosta…" He anxiously peered at the view screen, being right never felt so terrible. "Can we see, Pilot?"

The view shifted compliantly.

The sight was awesome and terrifying at once.

"Oh… by the goddess." Zhaan whispered, horrified. She clutched his arm, but he could not tear his gaze away from the screen.

A deadly blossom of azure veined with white consumed the entire mid section of the carrier. The hulking metal beast crumpled inward, folded toward the mouth of the wormhole. Like the delicate fabric of a curtain, the skin of the carrier undulated under the ravages of the distortion wave.

At tremendous ball of fire issued along the exposed side of the carrier. The flames quickly silenced by the cold of space. For a brief flickering moment, the wash of blue grew stronger still.

"The Hecht drive." Aeryn muttered with a fearful amazement. "The carrier’s energy reserves must be drained, otherwise we wouldn’t be here right now."

The vortex suddenly vanished, leaving the ravaged carrier to list, twisting against an imaginary eddy, a huge gash dissecting its decks.

"That's my girl." John whispered, feeling an empty new pain in his chest.

"Starburst in 3 microts.... 2... 1"

#

"Hey."

John looked up to see Aeryn standing over him as he sat on the floor of Ellie’s empty room. He had not heard her approach.

"Got a speech ready, Aeryn?" He stood, the flag patch in his hand. "Goes something like ‘I told you so’?"

She frowned slightly. "I have no speeches, John. Except to say I was wrong.... I misjudged her."

They were quiet for a long moment. Only the mutter of the great leviathan disturbed the air. She watched him turn the battered Earp symbol over and over in his hands. Aeryn was about to turn, to leave him with his misery when he broke the tense silence.

"She meant it, Aeryn. She meant to stay... and try." He said in a low, tortured voice. "Instead, she gave her life for us."

Aeryn shifted uncomfortably. "She died well."

The line of his jaw tightened; his blue eyes focused beyond the walls of the room. "Aeryn... this was our daughter. Not some nameless commando."

She countered, her voice soft, concealing the steel beneath. "Crichton, if I accept that, you’re asking me to accept my own grim future… my own death. I am no one’s mother. I wouldn’t know what one is... I barely knew mine."

His voice filled with a quiet hurt. "Aeryn, that’s the thing... it doesn’t have to end like that. Her very presence here may have changed things… permanently… for all of us."

It was her turn to look away, scanning this strange new horizon of possibilities.

John retrieved the tape recorder from his pocket and looked up at her

"She, um... she left a message for us." He said, clearing his throat. "If you want to hear them…"

Aeryn regarded at the small device in his outstretched hand as though it were some talisman, a box better left closed. Her lips pulled into a pensive line.

"I’ll listen." She said, haltingly.

They sat together on the warm floor of the room. Their eyes met for a sullen quiet moment.

He depressed the "play" to button.

Eleanor Sun-Crichton’s voice, made tinny by the motion of plastic and metal, layered over the hum of the leviathan’s engines and drifted out into the corridor.

#

Was Moya safe? Father? Mother?

With a sullen twist of despair, she realized that she could never know.

"I know you’re awake." A man’s voice hovered over her ear. "Stop pretending."

The young woman started the slightest bit. The accusation was true. She had been waiting, eyes shut, listening to the noises of this new place, trying to remember the passage of time that had brought her here. But her battered memory provided little more than the dazzling fury of the wormhole as it engulfed the Jocosta.

"You’ve rested enough. I have questions for you now." His voice was clipped, cultured by the mantle of command. Regardless of its staunch demeanor, there was a quality to the voice that was vaguely familiar, almost a comfort.

After testing each muscle in the aching riot that was her body, she brought herself up on one elbow. A wave of fresh agony washed over her side as her ruined ribs ground together.

Trying to ignore the pain, she opened her eyes and hungrily took in the details of the room. It was a dimly lit, confined space. A study in constricting alloy bulkheads and toothed gratings. The shadows filled every space, staved off by the meager lights that shone down directly upon her.

"I’m... alive." The simple observation became a bewildered question as she turned to follow the shade in the darkened room.

"Yes... a condition that remains entirely up to you." But there was little reassurance in the statement.

"What is this place?" She croaked; it was the sound of a rusted hinge.

"You are on my marauder. Your prowler nearly collided with me." The figure moved closer. Face still hidden in the shadows, he used a thick arm to push her back to the makeshift bedding on which she lay. "Don’t move. You’ll worsen your injuries."

"Collided with you?" She sat further up, ignoring his attempts to restrain her. "The carrier—"

"The carrier is nowhere to be found on sensors."

"The Jocosta?"

Her thoughts raced to piece together these scant clues. Somehow the marauder was swept into the wormhole with the Jocosta. Both vessels had been spared of the destructive force of the carrier’s demise.

He held up a silencing hand. "I shall ask the questions."

A tin of water was pushed beside of her. It was agony to raise her arm over her chest to accept it. The cool fluid tasted as flat as its metal container, but silenced the complaint of her parched throat.

"Name. Rank. Regiment." The stranger quietly demanded, seizing the cup away before she could drink it all.

She followed his form, seeking his face. But he remained a thicker part of the shadows.

"I’m not a Peacekeeper." She hesitated.

"Well... that I find a mystery." He offered an dry chuckle, rich with sarcasm. "You’ll forgive me if I do not believe you. You merely dress as one, pilot a prowler, and wear an identchip."

He paced the blacked corners of the room, apprehension mounting. "And there is a more curious thing.

"You bear Scorpius’ mark... branded into your back. Pray tell your explanation of that."

"It’s a story of some great length." She said cautiously. A tension grew with the mention of her former master. But she sensed no real danger from him… not yet.

He moved closer, leaning over her.

His face moved into the light.

A tremor was felt through her soul as she looked upon a dead man.

Delvar...

Deep brown eyes studied her from beneath blonde hair that had fallen from a plait at the base of his neck.

"I am Vedit Corsair. Captain. Ravstar regiment." His eyes narrowed. "Identify yourself."

Confusion mounting, she studied his face.

No, this was not Delvar.

This man was older. But the resemblance was undeniable. Here the lines of his mouth were different. There was not the same square jaw. Whoever this was, may have been a brother or a father to him.

"Eleanor." She answered, hesitantly. "My name is Eleanor Crichton."

The End

The sequel to this story is Nemesis.

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