Like Father, Like Son
Author: Christy
Rating: PG/PG-13? (possible language and violence later on)
Part: 1/?
Archiving: If you want it, you can archive it (I'de like ya
to e-mail me first though, but if you don't and just archive
it without asking that's okay too).
Synopsis: The crew of Moya runs across a future "friend".
Disclaimer: Don't own any of the Farscape characters (only in
my dreams), don't sue please. All other characters are mine
however so HA! If anyone wants to use my characters feel free
to ask (I'de probably say go ahead).
"Commander Crichton? Commander Crichton, please wake up!"
John Crichton bolted awake in bed, nearly falling on the floor
in the process. He rubbed his eyes slowly before grabbing his
communicator from the table by his bed and answering Pilot’s
calls. "Yeah Pilot, what’s wrong?"
"Your presence is required in command immediate, Moya has picked
up some strange readings in a nearby system and we believe you
may find them...interesting", with that, the communicator went
silent again. John sighed and swung his legs over the bed. He
had grown used to these kind of "early morning wake up calls"
from Pilot or any other member of the crew, but what irritated him
was when he was woken up. Something always seemed to bring him
back from his dreams of returning or being back home on Earth,
seeing DK again, talking with his father. Even his little
"fantasies" about Moya’s resident ex-Peacekeeper seemed to always
be interrupted by one situation after another. He doubted he would
even get a decent nights sleep again, at least not aboard this
Leviathan. John sighed, it was pointless to get angry over it. It
wasn’t Pilots fault these things happened, they just..did.
He quickly threw on his clothes and hurried to command still half
asleep. He was the second last to arrive, which had become the
normal routine when these things happened. Already Zhaan was
inquiring what had happened while D’Argo and Aeryn worked on consoles
to identify the problem themselves. John walked over to Chiana who
stood by, listening to Pilot’s explanation to what Moya had picked
up, "-some kind of small ship, though Moya and I are having trouble
identifying it. It appears to be a mixture of several different
technologies, we cannot identify if that’s what it is or if it’s just
some species we have yet to have encountered."
"This is odd. The basic attack systems as well as navigational are
reading as Peacekeeper", Aeryn stated while continuing to work at the
console. Crichton looked over at her shocked.
"Whoa, you’re telling me that thing’s Peacekeeper out there?" "No, too
many different hybrid systems. My best guess would be it’s a
scavenger’s ship, probably put together pretty hastily as well."
"Which might explain why it’s lying dead in space", D’Argo growled and
looked up at Pilot’s holoimage. "Pilot, I say we leave this area now!
If that’s a scavenger’s vessel his collages could be back later with an
even larger ship. I would prefer NOT to be in the area when
untrustworthy space pirates arrive along with their Peacekeeper weaponry!"
Zhaan simply looked over at D’Argo calmly then at Pilot again, "Agreed,
I do not believe we should put Moya or her child at risk-", before Zhaan
could finish Pilot interrupted her. "Please hold on. It appears....the
ship is emitting a distress beacon of some sort."
Crichton finally stepped in, tired of just watching the show from the
corner. "You mean it’s in trouble?"
"It could be a trap!", D’Argo didn’t even bother looking at the human.
"After the last time we helped an unknown species-" "That wasn’t his
fault! How was he to know that..."THING" was onboard?", John turned to
Zhaan. "We should at least make sure they’ll be all right." Zhaan sighed
and nodded, "Agreed...Pilot, scan the vessel for any damage or life
forms." "I have already begun the process. This is...strange." "What is
it Pilot?" "Moya is picking up one life form in the craft, but she
cannot place the species."
"That’s a bad enough sign, I say we leave here NOW!!", D’Argo hit his
console to make his point more obvious. The others ignored him however,
as a holo-image of the ship appeared in place of Pilot.
"Pilot...is that the ship?", Crichton stepped towards the image, getting
a better look. He knew the familiar shape all to well. Aeryn stepped
over beside him, staring at the image.
"Crichton , if I didn’t know any better I’d say that looks like your
ship." "It can’t be...", he steeped past the others, moving even closer
to the display. "Pilot, can you zoom in on the writing on the side?"
Pilot paused for a moment before answering. "Zoom in?" "Yeah..just
enlarge the image of the ships right side", another image appeared on
the main view screen, this one of a closer picture of the vessel.
With a clearer picture in front of them, it was obvious to the crew
this craft had been in battle not long before. Singe marks were evident
all over the out hall, but from the outside nothing appeared to be
seriously damaged.
The symbols on its side were also much clearer, though everyone but
Crichton could identify what any of them meant. "John, isn’t that your
language?", Zhaan looked at the human puzzled. John simply nodded.
"Yeah....it’s the Farscape VI", the other aliens looked over at him
again. A million questions were racing through his mind, but one stood
out above the rest. Was this really from Earth?
Aeryn watched him a brief moment, the shock was clear on his face.
She turned back to Pilot, "Bring it aboard." Pilot nodded and set to work
on the task. John entered the cargo bay first, his excitement and
curiosity moving him ahead of the others. The small ship Moya had pulled
aboard appeared to be an exact replica of Farscape I, only it’s sleek
black paint stood the two ships apart. D’Argo and Aeryn soon stepped
inside, both armed and ready just in case. Crichton just ignored them,
too curious about their new prize. He stepped closer, the scorch marks
on the ships hall now much clearer then before. There was no doubt
something or someone had tried to destroy this ship which made him all
the more uneasy. He took a closer look at the crafts identification on
its side. It was a Farscape vessel all right, but a strange symbol was
painted under it. It looked familiar, only he couldn’t identify where
he had scene such writing before. Aeryn slowly walked over, also
noticing the strange mark. "It’s Atlarian..."
John looked over at her in shock, "You know what is says?" Aeryn just
shook her head. "It’s a dead language, old Sebaceans dialect. It was
abandoned long ago when the Peacekeeper order was established." D’Argo
seethed to himself and converted his blade into a rifle.
"Peacekeepers! I should have known, better we shoot this piece of dren
back into space and leave it to decay!" "No, this deffinent wouldn’t
have anything to do with the Peacekeepers. The Atlarian language was
made illegal, those who attempt to even learn it are imprisoned."
"Whoa, you’re kidding right?", Crichton eyed her. The expression on her
face was the same one she always gave the human when she had to explain
things to him, and he quickly realized exactly how serious the matter
was. "But, it’s part of your history. I thought you guys at least
respected that." "Atlarian was used by the resistance during the Colony
Wars. They did not believe in the new order and so they refused to adopt
any of the new Peacekeeper standards. Since then it has been believed
anyone who so much as understands a word of the language is to be deemed
a traitor."
John stared at her in disbelief then looked back at the ship. "Okay, if
no one knows what it means how come it’s on this ship?" "I don’t know..."
Crichton’s curiosity was now getting the better of him. He looked up at
the ships hatch. A few blast marks etched the tinted windows, but it
seemed to be in one piece. "Well, there’s only one way to solve this
mystery."
D’Argo and Aeryn stood ready behind him and he climbed up the ships side
and reached for the hatch. He jumped back suddenly as the cockpit flew
open, sending him to the ground and causing the D’Argo to raise his
weapon, preparing to fire. Aeryn quickly stepped closer herself but
stopped when a figure emerged from the cockpit. She trained her pulse
rifle on the pilot. "Identify yourself!"
When the figure didn’t answer her, she thought he might not have heard
her the first time. She repeated the command, this time even louder. The
pilot seemed to pitch forward suddenly, then fell right out of the side
of the craft, landing on the floor with a small thud. John was the first
to rush over. Aeryn walked up behind Crichton as he examined body on the
floor. She quickly noted that she didn’t recognize the uniform, or what
the bars and symbols on the shoulders and breast areas could mean.
Though the helmet covered his face, Crichton had presumed from what Aeryn
had told him and his outside physical appearance he was probably Sebacean.
But the question of ships name still lingered and somewhere in the back
of his mind he prayed that this person might even be from Earth. He heard
Aeryn call for Zhaan’s assistance from behind him as he removed the helmet
from the pilot. He sat back as the pilots identity was revealed. He
appeared Sebacean, raven black hair covering his head, some falling over
his face.
What shocked John was his age, by the looks of his face he couldn’t have
been over twenty cycles. The cargo bay door opened and Zhaan glided into
the room and over to where the others were now gathered. John stood back
and let the Delvian check over the young pilot. He glanced at Aeryn who
stood emotionless beside him, her face had converted back to its cold
surface. He knew what she was thinking: between the writing on the ship
and the fact he appeared to be a Sebacean he was probably a traitor to
her people. Crichton sighed inwardly, wishing things could be easy for
all of them just once.
"He appears to be okay from the outside", Zhaan looked back up at the
others. "We should run some tests on him to make sure of this however."
She looked over at D’Argo who knew exactly what she wanted. He glared
slightly at the pilot and hesitated but felt Zhaan eyeing again.
Reluctantly, D’Argo put away his blade and picked up the young man,
carrying him off to Zhaans’ medical quarters.
He woke up with a splitting headache and feeling very disoriented. He
could feel a cool hand graze over his forehead and tried to open his
eyes only to find he couldn’t. His entire body ached as he tried to
recall what had happened. One microt he was running from the
Peacekeepers...trying in futile to evade them the next he’s here.
Flashbacks of the chase raced through his mind. The feeling in his
stomach as he dove towards the planets atmosphere then- It all came
back to him in an instant. The tossing and turning as his ship entered
the vortex and a sharp blow to his head. But what had happened after
that? Where was he now? He could hear voices, but they seemed so
distant and he couldn’t make out what was being said. He again tried
to open his eyes, this time successful though his vision was still
blurry. He stared up, allowing his eyes to adjust. Gold...a golden
sky? No, it was a ceiling. He slowly tried to sit up but the dizziness
came back and he laid back down. He heard footsteps echoing away from
him. He wasn’t alone? Who was there? He again sat up, this time
fighting back the dizziness and managing to swing his legs over the
side of the bed. He looked around. Where the hezmana was he? A flash of
a distant memory came to his mind, but he couldn’t place it. He slowly
stood up and fought back the urge to vomit. He didn’t know where he
was, but it surely wasn’t his home. He knew he needed to get out of here,
away. He needed to get back to his family, get to them before the
Peacekeepers did.